MoonRush (34 page)

The petite Asian waved her arms around the derelict ship. “Yeah, but it’s not much.”

Jarod smirked. “Trust me, I’ve got it going on where it counts.”

Cleo was about to rag on Jarod some more when Mia reached into her pocket and removed something sleek and black.

Jarod spoke into the hushed silence. “She says it locates
S
tar
D
iamonds.”

Cleo stepped back, her eyes rolling while the words spilled out of her mouth. “That’s impossible.” She saw, out of the corner of her eye, that Buton was gazing at the device with no discernible judgment. He appeared enthralled.

Rob openly scoffed. “I’ve read all the geology journals
—
”

“That’s because the researchers weren’t looking in the right direction,” Mia explained. Watch…”

She waved the scanner over a bulkhead. The device remained inert. Then she brought it near Rob’s head, and it began beeping.

“It’s tuned to electromagnetic pulses normally associated with brain activity.”

That aroused Cleo’s curiosity. “Like an EEG?”

“Exactly.”

Buton inserted himself between Cleo and the woman with her device. “Is that a Bayer Medscan?”

“Right.
A
Model 4 plus.”

“You’ve modified it. May I examine it?” Buton held out his hand for the device, which Mia deposited in his hand with some reluctance. Buton turned the scanner over in his hands, observing it from all angles.

Cleo still didn’t understand. “Okay…but what’s that got to do with
S
tar
D
iamonds?”

“My doctoral dissertation was on the effects of fine arts on the human brain.”

A light seemed to go on in Jarod’s brain. He smacked his forehead with his palm. “Painters and shrinks!”

“Exactly. One day I passed by an exhibit of
S
tar
D
iamonds on my way to the Impressionist collection
at the Louvre,
when the scanner went berserk.” Mia shrugged her petite shoulders. “After a few…well…false starts, I put two and two together and refined the scanner to sniff out diamonds.”
S
omething about that experience Mia clearly wasn’t mentioning, but that was the least of Cleo’s concerns right now.

Buton handed the device back to Mia. “We can test it right now.”

“Um…,” Mia said slowly. “I hate to point this out, but we’re a long way from the panning fields… A long way from any diamonds at all, actually.”

Buton began replacing his helmet on his head. Cleo and the rest of the crew followed suit. Rob turned to Mia after making sure his seal was secure.

“If you’re lying,” Cleo said
,
“
y
ou’re walking back.”

Mia just stood there. “I don’t understand.”

Jarod patted her shoulder as he passed by. “I’m about to
really
show you mine.”

For once,
Cleo really wanted to see that.

* * *

Gil glanced around the dark bar as he entered. He had followed the trio
—
an older gentlem
a
n and two men of the more muscular persuasion, from the “prospecting” camp in the northeast sector, making sure he kept well back and out of sight. This was not where he had anticipated ending up. Gil’s radar was up and pinging.

As he scanned the dingy club, Gil noticed remnants of what looked like one doozy of a bar fight. The patrons were all on edge, nursing their drinks as well as their grudges. And any number of bruises, Gil would guess. He continued his survey, locating the prey but allowing his gaze to pass right over them as if he had taken no notice.

There were two men that were obviously military types. Lean, mean fighting machines whose heads continually swiveled around, taking in all points of the darkened bar. An obvious escort. The third was so out of place
that
he might as well have been sporting gills. He was an older man with an academic air about him.
That
he was buying drinks for the prospectors to his immediate left was not lost on Gil. The man was pumping the locals for information. Gil had done the same thing enough times to know what it looked like. And this guy, quite frankly, had no game.

Gil, on the other hand, did. He watched for a little while, hanging back in the shadows. The older man was driving the regulars off in droves. They would hang around just long enough for the academ
ic
to buy them drink
s
, then slink off after answering a couple of questions. They did not return. There was a palpable zone of discomfort around the guy. Gil almost felt sorry for him.

After he’d observed enough, Gil approached the bar on the far end
—away
from the strange trio. He waved for the bartender, who nodded an acknowledgment and leaned over the bar to top off the drinks of a couple of miners
who
hadn’t yet been driven off. As the barkeep sauntered over, Gil tossed him a credit chit. The man swiped the chit, his eyebrows rising as he viewed the number listed there. He went to hand the chit back to Gil.

“Keep it.”

“But it’s an open credit line…” The bartender left his sentence hanging in the air.

“Yes it is. Up to a thousand.”

The credit chit vanished in the blink of an eye. Gil couldn’t say for sure where it had gone. This was his kind of bartender.

The man leaned in, his voice low. “What can I do for you?”

“Vodka tonic…” Gil drawled. He nodded toward the awkward threesome in the other corner. “And a heads
-up.”

* *
*

Rob trudged alongside the Asian woman…Mia?...and her dead silent scanner. He had gotten excited when Buton showed interest in the thing, but now, forty-five minutes and a couple of hills later, Rob was going back to his original thoughts on “diamond locators
.
” He glanced at the woman and her device, trying not to look too suspicious. He imagined he wasn’t succeeding very well.

He didn’t know about anyone else, but he was tired, thirsty, and totally over exotic
-
looking women with weird amulets and strange devices. He looked out over the rest of the crew, their glum faces mirroring his own. They had all been so excited just a little while ago. Rob couldn’t help but blame Mia for the change. Probably not fair, but there it was.

The woman stopped, kicking up moondust. “This is getting us nowhere…
If you want me to prove it, we need to go to the diamond fields.”

Yeah. Rob trusted Buton and his calculations a lot more than some cheapo
M
edscan thingy.

“Hope you have been working your quads, babe
?
I
t’s a long walk back.”

Jarod scanned the area after throwing Rob a quick disapproving glance. Probably for the “babe” comment. Hey, Rob called
’
em like he saw
’
em.

Jarod huffed. “Are we sure
that
this is the right place?”

Rob rolled his eyes. Trust Uncle Jare to take the chick’s side
about
something.

Cleo stepped in, her voice colder than the space outside their helmets. “The better question…
Does her device truly work?” For once, Rob was right with Momma Bear.

Mia matched Cleo’s tone ice for ice. “I have a medical degree from Harvard, a Ph.D. from Stanford
—
”

Buton’s voice, in contrast, sounded bored. “And I have taught at both institutions, so please do not attempt
—
”

The scanner in Mia’s hand suddenly screeched, loud and long. She bent her head to look at the readout,
and
then looked up, her expression befuddled.

“There must be something wrong.”

Jarod peered over her shoulder. “What’s it say?”

“This can’t be right. It’s way too big…”

Buton took the device from Mia and glanced at the readout. “I believe it is precisely accurate.”

Mia looked from one member
of the
crew to another, seeking something she could understand. “What could cause such readings?”

Rob whispered, hardly trusting himself to say the words. “The mother lode.”

The crew was silent, locking gazes with one another for a long moment. Then, as one, they started whooping and slapping each other on the back, hugging and maybe even crying a little bit. Just a little bit. Mia just stood there, uncomprehending.

“Um. Would somebody like to explain?”

Rob trotted over to do just that. All of
a
sudden, he really liked this woman and
her freaky little black device.

* * *

If Gil
weren’t
so busy getting the
exact
information he needed, he would’ve been tempted to rub his success in the old man’s face. One drink at a time? Gil smirked. Pure amateur hour. Open up an unlimited tab, and all of
a
sudden
,
you were the most popular guy in the place. Gil kept the beer and liquor flowing, and the patrons had responded by sending the tidbits flowing back upstream. Tit for tat, baby. Tit for tat.

Once more, Gil was proving his superiority. He snapped his teeth together inside of his mouth with a satisfying
clack
.

But what the grizzled Aussie in front of him was saying brought Gil up short. “Describe them both again?” Gil probed.

“He was blond and tanned. Looked like a surfer. She had this awesome scorpion necklace and a body that could knock a Joey out in a boxing match. The bloke had a good right hook, sure enough. But his Sheila? Man, could she kick
!
” The Aussie drained the rest of his beer and looked meaningfully at the empty glass.

Gil waved for a refill. “And you’re sure they
were
headed
away
from the fields?”

The man belched, his head bobbing up and down. “Sure as sure. Thought to myself, ‘what’re they doin’ goin’ out that way?’” The Aussie slumped back into his drink, his story done
and
his energy fading along with it.