Wings of Retribution (49 page)

“Sounds complicated.  Do you want to do this?”

Just listen.  The driver’s gonna ask for an address.  Give him the headquarters of the shuttle company.  It should be on the wall under its certification from Port Authority.  A minute away from the terminal, change your mind and tell him you just realized you needed to run errands in the Straw District.  If he asks what type of errands, tell him the family you work for just lost a slave and you need to buy a new one.  That will put him on edge enough to stifle further conversation.  Jeriah families wealthy enough to afford hired help
and
slaves are always crime-affiliated.  It also reduces the risk of him trying to sell you to a collector.  Even a whiff of the wealthy families of Jeriah is enough to put even the most opportunistic slavers on edge.

“Um.  Would you like to do this?  You seem to know more about it than I do.”

Don’t worry, Captain.  You’ll do fine.

Dallas grinned.  “You’re the only one who still calls me Captain.”

If you don’t get this right, I’ll probably be the last.

“I thought you told me not to worry!”

I don’t want you to look nervous.  To live in Jeriah, you’ve gotta be hard.  Which reminds me.  Go to the restroom.

“
Why?  I don’t have to pee.”

Just do it.

Dallas sighed and obeyed.

As soon as she had entered the stall, Stuart said,
Take your hair down and put it in a pony tail.  Wipe your finger along the crack against the wall and rub some of the dirt on your hands and face.  Now take a shit.

Dallas, who had complied up until this point, flinched.  “You’re kidding me.”

The Straw District stinks like hell.  It’ll be more convincing if you stink, as well.

“Screw that!” Dallas cried.  “I’m not rubbing shit on myself!”

Not you.  Your clothes.  Just a tiny bit will suffice.

“Ugh!” Dallas snapped, backing out of the stall.  “I’ll take my chances.”

Believe me, Captain, you want to do this.

“No, I
don’t.”

Stuart took over.  As Dallas squirmed with disgust, he moved her bowels, collected the result, and brushed portions of it on the bottom of her shoes and against parts of her coat.

“You are
disgusting!”
Dallas screeched when he finally put her back in control.  “I’m going to get sick!”  She ran to the sink and started sanitizing her hands.

In her head, Stuart sighed. 
Now you’ve gotta find some more dirt to rub on your hands.  You can’t get in the cab with clean hands.

Dallas refused.  Stuart took over again.

“You’re really starting to piss me off!” Dallas screamed when he gave her back the controls.

It’s for your own good, Captain,
Stuart said. 
I didn’t want to come down here in the first place, so unless you’re gonna return to the shuttle and go back to
Retribution,
I’m not letting you screw us both over.

“You sound just like Athenais.”

I’m just keeping things in perspective, Captain.  It’s not just yourself you’ve got to take care of anymore.  It’s me, too.

“I wonder if tapeworm medicine will work if I pour it in my ear.”

You’re the one who signed up for this,
Stuart reminded her.
  Rabbit was ready to shoot me.

“You’re an ungrateful bastard, you know that?”

Stop talking to yourself.  I think you’re frightening the guard.

“Shut up.”  Dallas wrenched the door of the bathroom open and walked across to inspect the Jeriah Space Transport’s shuttle license.  She memorized the address, then stalked out the door to stand on the sidewalk, in a foul mood.

Almost immediately, a well-groomed man jogged up and gave her a charming smile.  “I’m so glad I found someone.  This part of town is always so deserted and that worthless guard wasn’t any help.  You look like you know something about mechanics.  My skimmer stalled just around the corner—”

“Bugger off,” Dallas spat.  “I’m busy.”

The charming smile faded into a scowl.  “I see.”  At that, he turned and left.

Not a few seconds later, a frail old woman with a four-footed cane hobbled past her and dropped her bag of groceries.  Food and vegetables spilled all over the ground in front of Dallas and the old woman gave a cry of horror.

Dallas stood, immobile, ignoring the woman and her spilled groceries.  The woman struggled to replace the food in her bag, but her palsied fingers trembled too much to keep a reliable grip on anything.

“Excuse me, dear, would you mind helping me?” the woman asked.

Dallas kicked a yellow fruit across the road, where it was crushed against the hood of a passing skimmer.  Stuart was such a
dick
.

The grandmotherly eyes darkened.  “I see.”  Swiftly, she gathered up the fallen groceries and stuffed them back into her bag.  Then she tucked the cane under her arm and walked off.

So far so good,
Stuart said.

“Shut up,” Dallas said.

Minutes passed and Dallas had to turn down several bright yellow skimmers that stopped and offered their services.  Finally, a green cab came into view and she waved it down.

“You free?” Dallas called.

Be assertive,
Stuart said. 
Don’t ask.  Tell.

Dallas’s face remained in a tight grimace.  “Go screw yourself, worm.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I said, take me to 333 East Renoyld Road.  I just got finished dropping my friend off at the shuttle and I need to get home before the boss realizes I’m gone.”  Dallas climbed into the back seat.

The woman at the driver’s console relaxed.  “Of course.  333 East Renoyld.  Isn’t that the commercial part of town?”

Careful,
Stuart said quickly. 
She smells something.

“Yeah.  It’s my shit-covered jacket,” Dallas snapped.

The woman looked startled as she stared at Dallas through the rear-view.  “Excuse me?”

“Mind your own business, woman,” Stuart said.

Dallas glared.  “Don’t do that again.”

The driver looked thoroughly confused.  “Of course.  333 East Renoyld.  You a native of Odan?”

“Just shut up and drive,” Dallas said.

Looking bewildered and a bit put off, the woman did.

As soon as they were out of sight of the shuttle station, Stuart said,
Okay.  Now tell her you need to run some errands in the Straw District.

“Change of plans,” Dallas said.  “Take me to the Straw District.  Boss just lost another slave and needs a replacement.  Usually I snag one myself, but I don’t have the time I’m normally given, so today I guess I just gotta pay the Man.”  She smiled at the woman in the front seat, who immediately turned pale.

The cab dropped her off on a damp, stinking street littered with bits of straw.  Dallas immediately learned why.  Rows of cages, each with three solid cement sides, a roof, and a viewing area of solid steel bars, lined the streets in all directions.  The people inside the cages had a bucket, a pile of straw, and, if they were lucky, some clothes.  Most looked sick and underfed.

As she watched, one of the men outside the cages poured the contents of one of the buckets into the street.  Human waste spilled out over the ground, where feral pigs converged on the scraps and began to root through it.

Dallas held her nose and looked away.

Don’t,
Stuart said. 
Act like you see this every day.

“I can’t,” Dallas whispered.

Move closer to the cages,
Stuart ordered. 
Pretend you had to spit.  They’re watching you.

Dallas’s feet were rooted to the ground.  “I can’t,” she said again.  “I want to go back.”

You can’t go back.  They’d know you for what you are and put
you
in one of those cages.  Is that what you want?

“No,” Dallas whispered.  She was fighting down nausea.  “You do this, Stuart.  I don’t want to.”

No.  It’s not
my
people who put their own kind in cages. 
You
will do this.

“
I didn’t even know this place existed!” Dallas cried.

Collect your thoughts.  Now.  That man walking toward you is a slaver.  He’s wondering if you’re lost.  If you say one wrong thing, he’s going to order those men over there to grab you and we will be sold to the highest bidder.  Do you understand?

“
Why are you being so
mean?!”
  Dallas was shaking.  She could handle a fleet of ships, but this was too much.  She was too exposed.

You need to realize that not everything in life is sitting in a captain’s chair and doing loops in space.  You need to grow up, Dallas.

Dallas stared at the approaching man, stunned.  “What did you say?”

Stuart remained silent.

The slaver stopped and smiled at her.  “Ye lost, miss?  That cab drop ye off in the wrong district?”

Dallas’s face contorted. 
You’re just like Athenais.  You don’t respect me—you’re just using me.

“I’ll be takin’ that as a yes, then,” the man said, glancing behind him.

Dallas shoved the man aside.  “Get the
hell
outta of my way.”

The slaver, who was six-five and at least three hundred pounds, looked surprised.  He caught her shoulder with a meaty hand and stopped her.  “Here now, sweetie.  Such a little thing like ye…my, wha’ a pretty face.  What ye doing here?  Ye sure yer not on the wrong side of town?”

  Dallas paused and turned, slowly.  “Get.  Your.  Hand.  Off.  Me.”

The slaver released her shoulder.  “Sure thing.  Just tryin ta help.  Maybe if ye told me what yer looking fer, I could help ye.”

Dallas scowled at him.  “The family I work for recently lost a good slave.  Shipman.  Utopian-trained.  They want me to buy them a replacement.”  She glanced at her watch.  10:46 Standard.  “Before noon.”

The slaver’s eyes widened, sensing easy money.  “Sure thing, miss.  Why, I’ve got three right in my pen.  All former Utopis.  One’s even got a scrap o’ uniform left.”

“Show me,” Dallas ordered.

The slaver did.  None of the miserable-looking men behind the bars were Colonel Howlen.

“They must meet certain specifications,” Dallas said, scowling.  “Yours all look sick.”

“Look at the women, then,” the slaver offered, moving in front of a second cage.  “They’re naturally more healthy than the males.”