Poisoned Pawn (21 page)

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Authors: Jaleta Clegg

BOOK: Poisoned Pawn
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“I’ll agree to the first one, but not the second,” Jasyn said. “I don’t trust you and I don’t like you, either.”

His lips twitched in a suppressed smile. “Fair enough.”

“Final approach,” Clark said.

The ship erupted in a flurry of activity. Querran excused herself and went into the end cabin, the smallest, that she shared with Juen. Clark had ended up in Jasyn’s extra bunk, but Jasyn didn’t mind him. Clark was different, he was crew. Lowell patted her shoulder as he left the cockpit. Jasyn muttered under her breath what she thought of him.

“He isn’t a bad sort,” Juen said, speaking over her shoulder to Jasyn as the ship descended through atmosphere. “I’ve worked for worse. He’s at least fair.”

Jasyn didn’t answer. She didn’t want to believe it. She wanted to keep Lowell at arm’s length as the villain.

The ship touched down. Clark shut down the engines. Lowell came back, wearing the tan of Planetary Survey. He dropped another jumpsuit, the same tan, in Jasyn’s lap.

“If you’re coming with us, you have to look the part. This is what we have in your size.” He tossed a different jumpsuit at Clark, this one pale green. “EcoSystems Preservation, Limited,” Lowell said with a half grin. “You are now a flitter pilot who works for them.”

“And what am I?” Jasyn asked.

“The new camp cook,” Lowell said as if it were obvious. “Welcome to the Patrol.”

She clamped her mouth shut over the reply she wanted to make and went to change into the uniform.

It fit fairly well. She guessed it belonged either to Querran or Lowell himself. The other men on board were much larger than she was. She fastened it up the front and found a pair of sturdy boots. She brushed out her hair and braided it tightly, feeling the need to control something. Events were far out of her hands, and had been for some time.

The lounge was transformed when she came out of her cabin. The extra equipment was dismantled and gone. The scanning boards were back in place, though Jasyn doubted they functioned. All the cables were neatly coiled and stacked near the hatch. Boxes of equipment, most marked with scientific labels that meant nothing to her, were piled around the galley. The black uniforms were gone, replaced by tan and pale green.

Lowell talked on the com. “All arranged then? Good. We should arrive by morning, planet time.” He signed off, catching Jasyn’s eye as he shut the board down. “Your ship will be left here in storage. They complained until I explained that it was leased by the conservationists and that they were willing to pay a hefty fee for storage.”

“And when they check the ship records?” Jasyn stood near him, out of the way of the men hauling crates out of the ship.

“They will find a lease agreement, signed two months ago.” Lowell pulled the collar of his tan jumpsuit straight.

“Do you think of everything?” Jasyn asked.

“It’s what I’m paid to do. And if anyone asks,” he said, glancing down at the name tag on her uniform, “we aren’t related.” He grinned as he left the cockpit.

She sat in her chair. The ship was shut down, the essential systems in sleep mode. A single pair of lights glowed green on the main board. Everything else was dark. She ran a finger along the edge of the nav board and promised herself that she would come back. “With Dace,” she added in a whisper.

“They’re ready,” Clark said, interrupting her.

She stood and walked through the door into the lounge. Clark blocked her way. She looked up at him.

“You want to say something?” Jasyn asked.

“I admire your courage, Jasyn.”

“For what?”

“For standing up for Dace. For lots of things.”

“Is there a point to this, Clark?”

He bent forward and kissed her lightly. She stared at him, shocked. His face turned red. He mumbled an apology and fumbled for the door.

“Clark?” Her voice was carefully neutral.

“I’m sorry, Jasyn. I shouldn’t have presumed.”

She stopped him by putting her hand over his mouth. “Why did you do that?”

“Because you are the most intriguing woman I’ve ever met,” he said, his lips moving over her fingers as he talked. “Because you are loyal to a fault. Because you give friendship only to a few people. And because I want to be one of those people.” He paused, moving her hand away gently. “And because I fell in love with you way back on Dru’Ott.”

She kissed him then, a promise of the future. She stepped around him, thumbing open the hatch. He was barely breathing, stunned by her reaction.

“They’re waiting for us. And I think I started falling for you then, too.” She grinned mischievously. “Especially after you started wearing those tight pants.”

Jasyn spent the afternoon watching Lowell’s men load three different flitters. Box after box left the cargo hold of the ship, carried into the waiting flitters by Lowell’s men.

Burundia was not what she had expected. The landing field was just a field, currently covered by short nubby grass. The heat of landing had shriveled most of the grass near the ship. There were trees, stunted and single, but they produced some shade. Jasyn sat on a big rock under one and picked twigs apart while she watched the loading.

There were only a handful of ships on this side of the field. Most of them had Planetary Survey blazoned on the side. There were a couple of small traders. The Phoenix didn’t stand out as anything unusual. The port representative had come out to visit them, clipboard in hand. One of Lowell’s men had talked with him, acting as if he were in charge. The man signed papers and the representative went away, satisfied.

Everyone else had a job to do, Jasyn noticed. Even Sector Chief Querran was busy tracking crates. Jasyn had been told to sit in the shade and be patient when she’d offered to help. She got the distinct impression that she was in the way. So she sat and shredded twigs.

On the very far side of the field were more ships, sleek personal yachts for very rich people. The landing field over there was plascrete and fenced away from the rest. She saw glimpses of buildings through the trees crowding the fence. It was hot. The air was dry. She pushed sweaty strings of hair out of her eyes.

Lowell came out of the ship and crossed over to her. He looked as cool as ever. He handed her a map.

“Why does the new camp cook get a map?” she asked, squinting at him.

“Because everyone needs to know how to get help,” Lowell said. “In case something should happen.”

She studied the map.

The space port, what there was of it, was located on the equator in the middle of a desert area, according to the map key. She looked around at the grass and trees and decided it might qualify as a desert. Planetary geography was not one of her specialties.

The planet had two major continents, enormous land masses separated by wide oceans. The smaller continent, the one without the space port, was marked off into unequal spaces. The other continent, by far the largest, was also sectioned off. Diagonally across the larger one from the spaceport were a series of red marks. She turned the map and looked closer. One of them was labeled main camp. Three others were spaced in a semicircle roughly ten miles apart. They were labeled study areas. In the middle of them all was a single red star. And nothing else. She applied herself to memorizing the major landforms between the red star and the spaceport.

They took off near sunset. She was put into a flitter, flown by a man she didn’t know. Lowell took the seat on one side of her, Sector Chief Querran took the other. They lifted into a sky blazing with sunset color and flew into the night.

Jasyn fell asleep after a while, her head slipping to land on Lowell’s shoulder. He shifted it to a more comfortable position and let her sleep. Querran went to sleep, too, leaning against the far window.

Jasyn woke hours later, stiff and embarrassed to find herself leaning on Lowell. She sat up, rubbing her neck. The sky was now bright with sunrise.

“We’re almost there,” Lowell said.

She peered over him, out of the window. Unbroken forest stretched below them like fuzzy green carpet. Far away, very far away to the south, a chain of mountains caught clouds like misty hair. The rising sun tinted them pink.

The flitter descended, spiraling down. Jasyn sat back in her seat and pulled her belt tight. Wind pushed them briefly sideways. The trees below rushed up at them. At the last second, a meadow opened below. The pilot set the flitter down with barely a bounce. She moved to get out. Lowell stopped her with his hand, gently holding her in her seat.

Two other flitters set down on either side of them, kicking up dust. After their engines shut off, Lowell unbuckled his belt and slid the door open. The thick smell of pine trees and meadow grass and morning filled the flitter. They climbed out, stretching kinked muscles.

“I’m looking for Lowell,” a man called out, hurrying over from the other side of the meadow where bubble shelters were set up.

Lowell went to greet the man. They talked together, the man waving his arms around, for quite some time. Meanwhile, Lowell’s ever efficient team unloaded the flitters. Boxes labeled food and other supplies were carried across the meadow to the bubbles. She knew most of them had weapons in them. And the scanning equipment. It all looked so innocent. It amused her, in a twisted sort of way. She walked over behind Lowell.

The man saw her and clammed up. Lowell turned his head to her.

“Your new camp cook,” he said, drawing Jasyn beside him.

“Who is she really, Lowell?” the man asked.

“She can cook. Does the rest really matter?”

“You know you’re disrupting real research for this.” The man wore a pale green EcoSystems uniform. “I shouldn’t let you do this at all.”

“You’re being well paid, and you have the full cooperation and use of quite a few Planetary Survey engineers and scientists.” Lowell scratched his ear.

“And what about our data sets? What about the time we are going to lose? You’re going to disrupt the ecosystem for quite a while.” The man slapped his clipboard against his leg. “Last time I let you ‘help’ me, I lost the grant.”

“You should have told me, Trey,” Lowell said. “I could have fixed it for you.”

“Not everyone appreciates your help, Lowell,” Jasyn said.

The man shifted his attention to her. “Can you really cook? It’s going to get hard around here if we have to go on ration bars. Lowell tends to bring too many people with him. Without thinking through all of the logistics.”

“I can cook,” she said, surprised by his assessment of Lowell.

“Trey, this is Jasyn. Jasyn, Trey.” Lowell waved them at each other. “How about you get acquainted and complain about me while I get things organized?” He smiled brightly as he went back to the flitters.

“He’s definitely an odd one. We do have a field kitchen set up,” Trey said, switching the subject. “I hope you brought supplies. I’ve only got enough food for the twelve of us that are supposed to be here.”

“I don’t think we’ll be here long,” Jasyn said. From the look of the equipment Lowell’s men were unpacking, they could start a small war.

“That’s going to wreak havoc with the bushies,” Trey griped. “The animals we’re studying here. Not the little furry ones you find everywhere. We’re studying the big ones that eat the little ones. It’s a game with the rich people who own the planet to hunt them. Most of them have several dozen pelts on their walls. Makes me sick.” He started towards the bubble shelters.

Jasyn hesitated and then followed him. Lowell had just told her to stick with Trey, she’d better do it. Lowell was busy anyway. He and Querran had their heads together over something. She caught a glimpse of Clark hauling crates with the rest of them. Trey was still spouting off about the bushies, whatever they were.

“Why all the weapons?” Trey asked, pausing at the entrance to a shelter. He frowned at the portable missile launcher Lowell’s men were unpacking. “That’s definitely off limits here.”

“Lowell hasn’t told you why he’s here?”

“Something to do with some crime ring,” Trey said offhandedly. “I don’t get the news often. I haven’t heard of anything big lately. This is the kitchen. Breakfast hasn’t been served yet.” He flipped his clipboard against his leg. “Fix whatever you want. Let me know if you need anything.” He was gone before she could even open her mouth.

Jasyn looked around the kitchen at the assortment of mismatched pans and stacks of cans and packets of dried rations, most labeled with the Survey leaves. The portable stove looked as if it hadn’t been cleaned in decades. Five rickety tables sat on the uneven floor. She put her hands on her hips and tried to decide where to start.

Muttering a highly imaginative description of Lowell’s ancestry, she began by sorting the supplies. She was in the middle of scrubbing the tables and the stove when men started drifting in, looking hungry. Most of them drifted back out when they saw cleaning in progress. A skinny woman, tall and all angles, planted herself in the middle of the room.

“What are you doing in my kitchen?” she demanded.

“Cleaning it,” Jasyn answered.

“Who are you?”

“My name is Jasyn and Lowell says I’m the new camp cook.” She added a few muttered words about Lowell.

“You can make something real for a change, then. The men are tired of ration bars.” The woman turned around and left.

Jasyn slopped soapy water over the stove. Black bits floated across the floor in a dirty stream. At least the kitchen included a tap for running water. Jasyn didn’t want to think about where the water came from. It looked clean enough and she wasn’t going to worry. A growing chorus of complaints filtered into the tent from the crowd outside. No one dared open the door and look inside.

Lowell finally came in. He watched her finish scrubbing the stove. She reached for a pot. They were clean. Most of them looked as if they had rarely been used. She filled the pot with water and put it on the stove. The stove spit and sputtered before finally glowing.

“Do you want help?” Lowell asked.

She shot him a glare.

He grinned. “You wanted to be included,” he reminded her.

She dug through the supplies. She lifted big bags onto the tables. “How many do I have to feed and for how long?”

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