Wings of Retribution (3 page)

Giggles grimaced.  “Attie, I ain’t gonna serve them no booze.”

Athenais gave Giggles a baffled look, then turned to glance at the three men.  The leader was watching her with his alien yellow eyes.  Like her, he had a scar across his cheek, though it was on his right side instead of his left.  She winked at him again.

Turning back to Giggles, Athenais said, “Them three?   Did I ask you to serve them, Giggles?   I said
I
want three beers.  Are you gonna tell me I can’t buy three beers?   Do I need to take this up with Rabbit?”

Giggles licked his lips.  The fact that Athenais was childhood friends with the owner of The Shop was part of the reason why Rabbit had to relocate his place of business so often.  On their own, either of them could—and did—skate under the radar of the law with ease, but together, their combined notoriety often made for unpleasant surprises. 

But it was a price they were more than willing to pay.  They’d been lovers, business partners, and even children together, on Millennium, before her father had inflicted his lunacy upon them both.  Rabbit had stolen his first kiss from her.  Athenais had been the first one to call him Rabbit, and to her delight, it had stuck.  Their relationship had morphed and evolved over the years, cycling through all the possible variants until it had settled firmly on ‘good friends,’ and it was that stability that kept Athenais sane.

Too much had changed over the last seven thousand years.  Things crumbled, people died, stars imploded.  Only beer, sex, and Rabbit remained the same.

“Naw,” Giggles finally said, “But Rabbit ain’t gonna like it.”

“What are you talking about?”  Athenais said.  “Rabbit loves to see me drunk.  It’s the only way he can win at dice.”  She waited as Giggles reluctantly scanned her credit coin, then grabbed the three tankards of beer he slid under the glass.

“Sit down, fellahs,” Athenais suggested as she went back to her table.  She set the tankards down on the stained wooden table and returned to her seat.  “What brings you to T-9?”

She caught the quick flicker of their eyes, as well as the leader’s slight nod.  She pretended not to notice.

“We’re looking to join the Utopia,” the biggest one said as he sat beside her.  Half of his face was smothered in a thick brown beard and his spacer outfit creaked from the strain his huge muscles were putting on it.  Despite the roughness of his dress, however, he was clean and did not carry the overpowering stench of most males who worked in space.  Not even his breath was very offensive.  “I’m Morgan.  The guy missing a digit is Paul and the skinny one’s Stuart.”

‘Skinny,’ in this case, was relative.  As the three of them took seats at her table, Athenais gave them a quick perusal.  Whereas the yellow-eye looked like something belonging in an Erriatian Death Squad, the smallest of the three resembled some sort of fishing bird.  He had a hooked nose attached to a perfectly spherical head.  Combined with his long neck and lean frame, he looked a lot like a stork on steroids.  Though he was easily bigger than any other man in the room other than his two companions, he didn’t look like he belonged with the three colonists.  He seemed somewhat out of place.  Like an observer in someone else’s show.

Athenais shoved their beers at them.  “Even if you were dumb enough to steal a Utopian vessel and joyride off-planet, you’re not that stupid.  Colonists can’t join the Utopia.  You three can get executed just for being here.”

“Oh yes.”  The big, bearded man beside her gave a rumbling chuckle. 

Of the three of them, Athenais was most intrigued by the man with the stark yellow eyes.  She couldn’t shake the feeling she knew him from somewhere, but she’d never forget eyes like that.  And, though was easy for Utopis to change their eye color, colonists usually did not have that luxury.

“Stealing a ship was necessary,” Paul said.  “It was the only way to get free.”

“So you
are
colonists.  Walking around the Utopia.  In broad daylight.”  Athenais was impressed.  “You three have some brass balls, I’ll give you that.  What colony you from?”

“Penoi,” the bearded man told her. 

Athenais glanced from one to the other, trying to decide if he was serious.  She had been born on Millennium, Penoi’s tropical moon.  Though she’d never visited Penoi, she had seen its deep blue and green landscape every time she went out of doors in her childhood.  What surprised her was that her father was the Overseer of Penoi and he had not let a colonist escape in over seven thousand years at his post.

She glanced at the yellow-eye.  “And you?”

“Paul’s different,” the storkish one muttered into his beer.  Beside her, Morgan stiffened, then covered it up by running a hand through his beard.

Athenais lifted a brow at the leader.  “Different how?”

“What he means is—” Morgan began.

“What he means is this,” Paul said, holding up the hand that was missing his pinkie finger.  He set it down on the table between them, shielding it from the rest of the tavern with his beer.  Both Morgan and Stuart fell into a subdued silence, their eyes locked on the missing finger.

It took Athenais a moment to realize that the scarred stub was growing, stretching.  In less than a minute, the finger was whole again.

Athenais swore and jumped backwards, her seat crashing to the floor in her haste.  All eyes in the bar locked on her.  From behind his glass, Giggles touched the pistol strapped to his hip and gave her a questioning look.  Athenais ignored him and glanced back at Paul’s hand.  The finger was gone again.

Tearing her eyes up from the stub, Athenais whispered, “You’re a shifter.”

Paul took a long swig of beer.

A wash of excitement flooded Athenais’s good sense.  Almost all shifters had died in the last war.  Three million credits were up for grabs for anyone who could provide information that led to a shifter’s extermination, but the prize had not been claimed for more than four hundred years.  By showing her who he was, Paul had put his life into her hands…and potentially a lot of money.

Athenais picked up her chair and sat back down.  “Thought you were all dead.”

“There’s still a few of us around.”  Paul spoke Utopian without a hint of an accent, so perfectly that Athenais still couldn’t believe that the man sitting across from her was an alien. 

“On the colonies?”  Why did she get the idea she knew him from somewhere?

“Yes.” 

Athenais leaned back.  “I take it back, shifter.  Coming here, telling me that… You got balls of goddamn titanium.  But then again, you probably don’t have balls, do you?  Come to think of it, how do you guys…you know…?”  She gestured at his crotch.

“We’re off subject.”

Athenais frowned at him.  “Why?  You a male or female?  Or are you guys like seahorses and grow your own?  Come to think of it, how do seahorses do it?” 

Paul narrowed his eyes at her.  “If you’re stalling because you sent a neurogram back to your ship, this conversation is over.”

Athenais bristled.  “It’s just small talk.  I want to know.”

The shifter looked stressed and irritated and ready to leave.  The bearded man put a steadying hand on his shoulder, visibly holding him in place.  Paul scoffed and looked disgustedly aside, then forcibly relaxed.  When he failed to enlighten her on either the breeding habits of shifters or seahorses, however, Athenais sighed and said, “So how’d you meet your friends, here?”

“Common interest.” 

“Which is?”  She had trouble believing that a shifter wanted to get his hands on the Millennium Potion.  They already had a natural lifespan longer than anything Marceau could concoct with his pharmaceuticals.

“Downfall of the Utopia.”

She felt herself grin.  “What a surprise.”

“Indeed,” Paul said, looking at his mug.  He took a deep swig and set it down again, none too gently.  “But we have better things to do than discuss the past.”  He sounded strained, his words forced.

Athenais checked her watch.  “I’ve got another ten hours until I need to go find out which half of my crew is sober for cast-off.  As soon as we get underway, I’m looking at several weeks of playing cards and reading old newsbits.  I’d gladly buy you another drink to hear your tale.”

“That would take all ten hours, plus some,” Paul said.  “Besides, you probably know the story already.” 

It struck Athenais that he sounded as if he were acting in a play.  His tight, jerky conversation suddenly made the tiny hairs on her neck stand on end and she glanced over her shoulder at Giggles, who was still watching her.

Steadying herself, Athenais took a long moment to study her drinking companions.  She couldn’t find a hint of Utopian on them anywhere.  They were too rough, too…poor.  Not for the first time, instead of following her gut and ending the conversation, curiosity got the better of her.  “I know the gist,” Athenais admitted, “But how’d you survive all this time?  They had extermination squads out for years.”

Paul smiled bitterly, but said nothing.  She got the sudden, strong feeling that this man—
alien
, rather—hated her.  Not just hated Utopis, but
her
.  The sheer animosity coming from behind his piercing yellow eyes—alien eyes, now that she thought of it—made her skin prickle uncomfortably.  She wondered again if she was walking into a trap.

She smiled at them, masking her unease.  “Two colonists and a shifter and you’re gonna bring down the Utopia.  Do you have any idea how many lunatics I’ve heard say the same thing?  What kind of stupid stunt are you planning to pull?  A planet-killer stored in the hull of some transport?  An engineered plague?  Exploding Millennium’s star?”  She’d heard them all before.

Paul’s alien eyes glittered with challenge.  “A few beers doesn’t buy a tale like that, Attie.”

Athenais flinched at the mention of her nickname, then realized that Giggles had used it when they had first arrived.  She relaxed, wondering what was setting her nerves on edge.  After all, most of her crew was within earshot in the back rooms and Giggles would gladly shoot all three of her drinking companions if she so much as gave him the nod.

“Fair enough,” Athenais said.  “What does it buy?”

A malicious smile stretched Paul’s lips.  “Spoken like a true pirate.”

Athenais grinned.  “That’s what’s wrong with the Utopia these days,” she said.  “A woman can’t keep an eye to her finances without being accused of piracy.”

“You know what you are just as well as we do.” 

The outright anger, the deep-rooted malevolence in his gaze left Athenais feeling more and more unnerved.  She tried to laugh, but failed under the alien’s unwavering yellow gaze.  She found herself gripping the beer stein reflexively as she said, “Giggles must have pissed in your drink.  I’m no pirate.”  Immediately, she regretted the words.  They had come out defensive, not at all like the confident space captain that seven thousand years of Hell had shaped her into.  Since when had these fools gotten the upper hand in this conversation?

Paul’s yellow eyes bored right into her with alien intensity, nervously making Athenais wonder if shifters somehow read minds, too.  “Yes you are.  You’re human scum.  Wanted in all four quadrants and have death warrants on sixteen planets.  The price on your head is double that of the next three bounties combined.”

Athenais beamed, showing teeth.  “Still half what you’re worth, I’m sure.”

The shifter gave her a sly grin and raised his tankard.

Athenais felt herself liking the alien despite his hostility towards her.  “Tell me,” she said.  “Who are you, really?  Why tell me about…that?”  She indicated his missing pinkie finger.

He shrugged.  “You bought us a drink.”

“Your life for a drink?  I don’t buy that.”

Paul bristled.  “I didn’t come here to exchange pleasantries with Utopian filth.”  He started to stand.