Gurminder let out a sigh. This was going to land on somebody and it wasn’t going to him.
He decided to pass the buck. Varlamov and his people could decide what was to be done with her. Who knew, they might even be able to trade her back to her family, depending on how important they were for a few resources they needed.
He then looked at the p-suit she had on and winced. Yeah, it needed adjusting. It was fine horizontally, but she clearly had no idea how to adjust it to fit her height-challenged body. Her shoulders and hips were wide enough, but if she was going to survive, he’d definitely have to do some work on the arms and legs. Those folds were catching on everything. Tory wouldn’t be any use to the big man if she started ripping it and her blood boiled out.
He motioned her to come closer. The girl stared at him and didn’t move an inch.
“Look, you’re not going to get anywhere with your suit like that,” he told her. “Let me get it fit for your frame. I’ve figured out how this might work out for the both of us. Come on, do you want to get that suit ripped. Believe me, you rip it enough, it isn’t going to self-seal, newer.”
“Okay,” she finally relented. “But stop calling me that. I had to punch the last kid who called me that.”
Gurminder had to smirk, not surprised that she had.
Tory stepped within arm’s length, close enough for him to work the belts and bands to straighten the folds. It only took a minute. Done, Gurminder stood back up, head bent as he loomed over her, casting her in shadow as he blocked the overhead light.
“Honestly, I don’t have time turn around,” he told her. “CU Exit Control held me back so long that I’m already late with my delivery. But I can take you to where I’m going and the people there can decide what to do with you.”
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She narrowed her gaze. If she knew what he was carrying, then she was probably right to be suspicious.
“Would they take me back to Cerberus?” she wanted to know.
He laughed.
“I’m sure that’s the last place they are going to want to take you,” he told her. “But I’m sure they’ll do what they can to make sure that once they get you back, your parents will want to go back to Earth as well.”
The girl didn’t grin back. Nor should she. The Rusclan weren’t likely to take her presence on his gun run with good humor either, but it was either that, or dump her in the red. He wasn’t going to radio MarSec and it seemed Tory didn’t want him to anyway.
He motioned her to the front of the transport, and she started waddling in her suit up the cars, him following behind. When they reached the cockpit, Tory plunked herself down in the passenger’s seat, while he returned to his chair and started up the engines. She glanced through the dusted up windows of the rig’s cockpit while he flipped switches and then jerked the vehicle back into motion. Finally she turned back to him.
”So, who exactly do you work for?” she asked, then, “and where are we going?”
“It’s better that you don’t know,” he told her, briefly glancing at her before returning his eyes to the terrain up ahead, “You’ll get into less trouble the less you know.”
“I’m going to find out anyway,” she said, “So you might as well tell me. It’s not like I can do anything about it.”
What a brat. Maybe she was the tween he’d originally pegged her as, but he wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of not already having figured it out.
“Did you pull crap like this back on Earth?” he asked instead.
“Kind of,” Tory admitted. “All mom and dad seem to want to do is keep me locked up whenever I have. It’s like their scared of what might happen to me every time I’m out of their sight. I think bringing me here was they’re idea of punishing me.”
Gurminder sighed.
Or they’re scared of what might happen to the people you get in trouble.
“Just be quiet and pretend to enjoy the scenery,” he told her, “I need to think. And so do you. We’re both going to have some explaining to do.”