By the time the enforcers were done interrogating me, I judged the time to be in the pre-dawn hours. I left the enforcement post and made my way to the transit line. Luckily, a few lines ran continuously. I didn’t fancy a long walk back to the port where our ship was docked.
I had told the authorities as little as necessary to clear myself of suspicion. I didn’t bother telling them that the shooter was some hired assassin. It had been clear to me that she was well-connected, which made me immediately wary of telling the authorities anything.
I did manage to drop in some subtle digs just in case the assassin got her hands on a copy of my interview. My account included descriptions of how I thoroughly outmatched her in the fight, emphasizing that she only escaped by getting lucky. I took extra pleasure in describing how I easily outmaneuvered and outsmarted her during my pursuit, throwing in my opinion of how inept she seemed at even something as simple as hiding and fleeing like a coward.
Coward, I had told the official taking my statement, c-o-w-a-r-d, make sure you put that in there.
I let out a weary sigh as I finally approached the ship’s dock. Bunking on the ship had not appealed to me earlier in the day. The prospect of sleeping in an unsecured room, most likely shared with people I didn’t entirely trust, in a location all our hidden enemies must surely know about by now, didn’t seem like the best option.
Now, however, I didn’t really care as long as nobody bothered me for several hours. I realized that I hadn’t been to sleep in nearly two days, not counting that brief stint of being unconscious in the cargo bay.
Dick sat on the dock with his back against the side of the transport near the hatch. He looked to be stargazing, if there had been any stars. Instead, the pseudo night sky was dotted with luminescent sea creatures of varying sizes swimming around in the dark ocean depths just beyond our transport’s bubble.
“Aww, honey, you waited up,” I joked, sarcastically, too exhausted to keep my guard up around him.
He grinned and turned to look at me as I approached.
“What can I say?” he teased. “The bed was cold without you.”
I felt the familiar rush of heat in my body as I walked closer to where he sat. The idiom about how dangerous it is to play with fire seemed appropriate to me in a way that a million tons of sea water surrounding us couldn’t extinguish. Maybe even in my exhausted state, flirting with him proved too treacherous to trifle with.
I chuckled and shook my head at my own befuddled thoughts as I took a seat on a nearby crate someone had left on the dock.
“What’s so amusing?” he inquired, softly.
“I was just thinking about some old friends,” I said, my mind wandering in the past. “I imagine they’d have a good laugh watching me struggle to not sleep with the mysterious, sexy guy in tight leather pants.”
“So, you’re saying I’m your type,” he teased.
“One of many types,” I rebutted. “So, don’t flatter yourself.”
“Interesting to know,” he said with a chuckle and some wickedly mysterious grin. “So noted.”
I shuddered involuntarily.
We sat in silence for a moment before he spoke again.
“Ryuuk filled us in on what happened with the assassin.”
“Yeah? You also going to give me the riot act about ruthlessly shooting helpless killers who just committed attempted murder?”
Dick let out a short bark of laughter and shook his head.
“Hardly. I’m more of a realist than an idealist. I’m always in favor of prioritizing myself over other people's morals.”
I smiled. The implication that he had no morals of his own did not go unnoticed.
“Ryuuk did say the word Outlaw was mentioned,” Dick added, cautiously.
I sighed in frustration. That damn Avian was becoming a serious pain in my ass.
“What would you know about Outlaws?” I asked, trying to dodge the question.
“Maybe more than one would think,” he said, grinning cheekily. “I’ve slept with quite a few Outlaws. You’re a randy bunch.”
I eyed him contemplatively for a moment, cocking my head to the side and squinting one eye.
“No,” I said, pretending to recall if I had been one of them. “I think I’d remember if I had slept with you before.”
“Oh, babe, I know you would.”
“Your humility is staggering,” I said, trying to keep a straight face.
“You can’t possibly know just how humble I’m being right now,” he said. “Though that’s a problem we can rectify anytime.”
“Don’t tempt me,” I said. “We Outlaws are a randy bunch, remember? But if you’re thinking of turning me in for a bounty, I hate to disappoint you. I cleared any bounties I had a long time ago, and I’ve been out of the game for a while, now.”
“Took the money and ran?” he asked. “That’s what I’d do.”
“Something like that,” I said, solemnly, and we could both feel the mood of the conversation shift.
As if sensing his words had hit closer to the truth than I was comfortable with and respecting my reluctance to talk about my life as an Outlaw, Dick changed the subject.
“We made a makeshift patch over the breach, so at least nobody can just climb in on us while we sleep,” he said. “Vomero and I couldn’t get the security systems operational, though, not without replacing some wiring that was hit by one of the blasts. It was too late to go looking for some by the time we figured out the issue.”
“Is that why you’re standing guard out here?”
He shrugged. “I don’t mind. I got a few hours of sleep, and that’s honestly about as much as I’m likely to get.”
“Insomniac?”
“Something like that,” he said, echoing my earlier words.
“Well I definitely have no problem sleeping for the next 12 hours straight, given the opportunity,” I said and stood to make my way inside.
“There’s a makeshift bedroll in the control room I was using if you need somewhere to crash,” he called. I stopped and peered back at him in mock suspicion.
“Alone,” he added, holding up his hands in surrender.
“Thanks,” I said, then headed inside.
Ryuuk and the old guy were stretched out on opposing loungers in the passenger cabin, snoring loudly and sleeping soundly. Matthew was draped across a bench along the wall. He had removed his outer robe and rolled it up like a pillow. I didn’t see Vomero, so I guessed he must be sleeping in another part of the transport.
Making my way to the control room, I found it empty save for a vacant bedroll on the ground as Dick had promised. Stretching out in the bed roll, I let out an involuntary groan as my weary limbs relaxed for the first time in days. The problem of my sleeping arrangements became immediately apparent. Dick’s scent, including a healthy dose of his special pheromone concoction permeated the bed roll.
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Too tired to move, much less find other sleeping accommodations, I resigned myself to what would surely be a long night of restless sleep, filled with erotic dreams.
* * *
After sleeping till mid morning, I set out determined to partake of some hot food and an even hotter shower. Luckily, the port was used to transients and had several hospitality stations located on each pier.
Basic toiletries, as well as rentable shower rooms, were reasonably priced. They even had instant launder machines in each shower room for an upcharge, of course. I put my clothes in one of the machines while I showered, and by the time I was done, my clothes were clean and wrinkle-free.
I found breakfast at the Merry Mermaid. The barkeep employed an inventive business model that took advantage of those patrons who had too much to drink the night before and needed a good meal to fight off the hangover. The matronly lady behind the bar, Pearlak, recommended the abalone sea biscuit and side of coral hash. It was heavenly, made even more delicious by the fact that it was free courtesy of Derrick. He insisted that paying for my meal was his way of acknowledging a worthy competitor.
By noon, I was browsing through the market stalls with Vomero. He had commandeered me into helping him find the necessary parts to get the ship’s systems fully functional. I knew three more languages than he did, which was typical of most Outlaws, so he figured I would be useful in negotiations where language barriers might be an issue. We also dragged along Matthew, thinking he’d probably enjoy the experience since he hadn’t traveled much. I was also keen on making him a pack mule so I didn’t have to carry everything on Vomero’s lengthy list.
“How exactly are you thinking we’re going to afford all of this,” I asked Vomero. “In case you forgot, we’re kind of broke.”
“If the local authorities want to saddle us with the responsibility of the transport’s financial obligations in lieu of being able to locate the actual transport company, then I think that makes the cargo on said transport ours to do with as we please, as well.”
“Can we do that?” Matthew asked with skepticism. “Won’t whoever owned the goods want it back, eventually?”
“I imagine by now they will have noticed the ship never arrived at its destination,” Vomero answered. “Thinking it hijacked or just crashed, I’m sure most owners of that cargo will have filed claims with their insurance companies by now.”
“I can think of at least one cargo owner that might not be filing an insurance claim just yet,” I said, thinking of the item hidden under the cargo bay floor.
“Yes, well, obviously we won’t be looking to trade that particular item,” Vomero replied. “For one, we can’t even figure out how to remove it from the ship. And second, we have no idea what’s actually in that containment unit.”
“I agree, “ said Matthew. “We shouldn’t touch that thing, whatever it is. It gives me bad vibes, and I would rather just forget it existed.”
He must have seen it while I was being detained by the enforcers because he hadn’t been with us when we first found it. That would have really given him a scare.
We spent hours in the market trading our cargo for either credits or items we needed. I spent most of that time bored out of my mind as Vomero agonized over whether to get the carbon fiber wrapped wires or the silicone based ones.
Instead of paying attention to whatever our lizard-like companion was doing, Matthew and I amused ourselves with some people watching. We chuckled at a kid, about six years old in age, who kept putting items in his satchel while his mom was distracted. This did not go unnoticed by the shopkeepers, however. Their reactions varied between just letting the little scamp have the item, to handing him his own bill for the products as a joke. The mom didn’t think the joke was funny and ended up dragging her tot out of the market by the ear.
At another stall, two grown Syreni men were arguing obnoxiously about who saw an item first. After they got into a fight over it, the stall owner threw them both out of the market. He was at least a foot and a half taller than either of the two men fighting, so they put up no resistance.
Another commotion caught my attention at a fruit vendor’s stand. Well, that’s not entirely accurate. The man standing at the fruit vendor is what first arrested my attention. He was Centuri, a humanoid race that shared exactly the right anatomy with their equestrian forebearers to make them wildly popular with the ladies. Almost absurdly tall with smooth, chestnut-colored skin, the Centuri man’s arms and chest rippled with lean muscle underneath a simple white button shirt. A Centuri’s face looked mostly human, with the main prominent feature of their heritage being a strong jawline and prominent cheekbones.
His appeal seemed to have captured the attention of the young woman tending the fruit stand. This fact did not go unnoticed to the large Syreni man who owned the stand. The owner also turned out to be the woman’s husband and was by no small miracle of genetics, somehow even larger than the Centuri.
“I’m just trying to buy some fruit,” the Centuri man said as the husband threatened to hammer him over the head with a board.
“Buy it somewhere else, lover boy,” the man said and unceremoniously slung the would-be suitor up over his shoulder and into a nearby water fountain.
“Garek!” the pretty young woman from the fruit stand scolded. “How many times have I told you to stop being so jealous of every male customer I talk to.”
But as she pulled her husband away from the fountain and the drenched Centuri, she winked at him over her shoulder and subtly licked her lips.
As the man pulled himself from the fountain, his now soaked and nearly transparent white shirt clung to his torso. Matthew and I both stared, mouth agape, at such an incredibly virile specimen of masculinity. As if sensing our gaze on him, the Centuri glanced up as he plucked at his wet clothes and caught us gawking. He smiled a sexy grin.
“Oh man, uh...where did Vomero get off to?” Matthew said, stumbling over his words.
We were both suddenly very interested in looking anywhere but in the direction of the fountain.
“Yeah, we better go find him before he buys out half the market,” I babbled and took off in a random direction.
Moments later, we located our companion who seemed finished with his shopping list.
“I was able to barter quite a bit of our goods for credits,” said Vomero. “Of course, we won’t get some of it until they come pick up the cargo. But I think we’ve got enough to pick up a few basic food items to keep on the ship. You guys got a craving for anything in particular?”
“Not fruit!” squeaked Matthew.
“Anything but fruit,” I agreed.
* * *
After leaving the market, I parted ways with Vomero and Matthew. It was nearing one of the visitation hours at the surgery center, and I wanted to check in on Cash. Mostly though, I was hoping he was recovered enough to answer some questions.
“No! I don’t want anything for dinner!” I heard Cash bellowing down the hallway before I even reached his room. “This stuff tastes like ass and is probably costing me a fortune.”
A small Syreni woman came barreling out of the room. She looked to be holding back tears.
“Making friends, I see,” I said as I leaned in the doorway and took stock of his condition.
He looked slightly paler than usual, but other than that and the giant wrap around his chest that looked crafted of seaweed, he appeared normal.
“They refuse to release me, even though I told them I’m more capable of monitoring my own condition than they are,” Cash griped. “So, yeah, I’m a little pissed.”
“Dick guessed that you’d probably wish that assassin woman had finished the job once the bill comes,” I said, watching him closely and noticing how his eyes sharpened when I said the word “assassin.”
“They said you went toe to toe with her,” he said, with a genuine mixture of admiration and gratitude.
“Incorrect,” I said, casually leaning against the window sill in his room. There weren’t any chairs as visitors weren’t a priority in these types of rooms. “I kicked her ass.”
At this he let out a short laugh, and I noticed he winced as he did so. He wasn’t as stable as his bravado made it seem.
“I would’ve killed her, too, if our resident friendly bird brain hadn’t interfered.”
“Well, I do appreciate the sentiment, but I’m glad you didn’t, if I’m honest.”
I raised an eyebrow in question.
“I’m really looking forward to evening the score myself whenever they let me out of this asinine place.”
“Understandable,” I replied with a nod.
“Did you happen to find out anything about her during your encounter?” he asked.
“Just that she’s some assassin,” I said. “She wouldn’t say why she was so keen on killing you, not even when I was intent on putting a bullet in her head.”
Cash just nodded thoughtfully, and I could tell he understood why the woman would choose to die rather than reveal her mission.
“But that’s not the real question you were wondering, is it Cash?” I said casually.
“What’s do you mean?” he said, snapping out of his musings.
“What you really want to know is if she told me anything about you.”
Cash’s eyes went hard as steel and his face became unreadable. I saw a shadow of something pass over his countenance, but it was gone too fast to identify. It was like a mask fell into place, or was finally falling out of place.
“You really are an onion, huh, Theodoric Cash?” and I suddenly realized why his demeanor felt so familiar. “You’ve got lots of hidden layers just waiting to be peeled back.”
“What are you getting at, Skye? Why are you here? Just to check on me? I don’t think so. Get to the point.”
“Very well. I’m here to barter.”
“Barter or blackmail?” he accused.
“A fair trade. That’s how I prefer to operate. You see, I believe I have something that would, in fact, help you identify your lady assassin, it might even help you track her down and exact revenge.”
Cash was silent for a long moment, as if unsure what game I was playing. I didn’t leave him in suspense for long.
“And all I want from you in return,” I said, slipping my blaster discreetly from its holster and leveraging it at him in a way only he and I could see.
“Is for you to make me believe all the shit that’s happened to me in the last two days isn’t somehow connected to a cybernetic hitman who just so happened to be on the same ship.”