Captive Surrender (15 page)

Vi Mot Cu was no different from a hundred other space port cities scattered around the galaxy. The rich and elite had their towering abodes clustered in the center of the metropolis, and the grittier, poorer sections lay on the outer fringes.

“What makes this place so special?” she asked as they strolled down one avenue, heading for a particular bar where he had contacts. It was late afternoon, and shopkeepers were offering last-minute deals to passersby before they closed up for the day. When Safan stopped to ask for directions, she eyed a nice vest displayed at one kiosk and grinned. They’d had a bit of trouble trying to get the ship to fabricate clothes for him. Although the previous owners had been tall, their clothing had been minimal. The ship was not prepared for a being the size of Safan.

“It keeps giving me an error message.” He growled. Fearing he might punch out the data board, Maurra pushed him aside to try for herself.

“Are you sure you entered your measurements correctly?”

“Four times.”

After double-checking his input, she pressed Enter. There was a moment of silence, followed by a click, and a message popped up on the display.

“Data does not compute. Do you want a blanket?”

Maurra laughed so hard, she had tears in her eyes.

Inevitably, they had been forced to recalibrate the onboard computer to accept his data. The tunic and pants fit, but they weren’t fancy. Neither was Maurra’s outfit, but that was a good thing. They wanted to present themselves as tough, hardworking but relatively inexpensive merchant shippers, available to haul any kind of cargo as long as it was borderline legit.

The name of the bar was in a language she couldn’t translate, but it didn’t matter. A bar was a bar was a bar. The interior was dim, crowded, and it stank. Not surprising. Many alien species emitted odors that would clog a ship’s vents.

He led her over to an empty table that wasn’t too far from the center serving area yet allowed them some amount of privacy. Plus the wall was to their backs. Always a safe move.

She kept one eye on her mate and the other on the patrons, and a smile lifted one corner of her mouth. She wasn’t accustomed to subterfuge. Her JoJo uniform had precluded anonymity. Safan, however, seemed to be comfortable going undercover.

Propping her boots up on the table, she leaned back in the booth when he ordered for them both. She grabbed his arm.

“Whoa. What are you doing?” They had no creds.

“Ordering us drinks.”

“And how do you plan to pay for them?”

“I have a cred or two to spare.” He slapped his hand across the inset tablet flashing their bill. After a moment, their drinks appeared through the depression in the center of the tiny table.

She narrowed her eyes. “All right. Tell me what’s going on.”

“Do you trust me?”

She answered without having to think about it. “Explicitly.”

“Good. Then hear me out. We have a ship for hire, no questions asked about the cargo. At the moment we can’t be picky. Got that?” He turned and gave her a stern look. “We get a small percentage up front, enough to cover our immediate expenses and fuel. After we get you a decent translator, we’ll take on the cargo, make our delivery and collect the rest of our fee.”

“We’re actually going to go through with the job?” she asked over her mug of barritzo. The stuff was mild, compared to the derivatives usually served. She could drink it all day and not get buzzed, which was why she’d ordered it. She couldn’t take the chance on being high. Not now. On the other hand, if they really were merchant shippers, it would have been different. She could allow herself to get as soused as she wanted, and know Safan would safely carry her back to the ship.

Taking another sip, she gave her partner another once-over. Despite his attire, the Ellinod projected an air of power and authority, towering over the local inhabitants. If anyone looked like he belonged in law enforcement, Safan did. She made a mental note to ask him how he’d been selected as an Orgoran.

Safan lowered his mug of quontus and belched. “We are. It’ll put a few creds in our pockets, and a decent recommendation on our resume if we ever need to dip into these waters again. Speaking of dipping, did you know there’s an interstellar bank not five blocks away? We’re less than two parsecs away from Kronnaria. What do you think the chances are Vol Brod is using this location to house some of his ill-gotten gains?”

Maurra blinked. “There’s an interstellar bank on
this
world?”

“Yeah.” He threw a thumb to their left. “That way, if I remember correctly. Go see if you can find out anything. I’ll stay here and try to earn us a few credits.”

“And try to stay out of trouble while you’re at it,” she teased. This time he gave her an answering look that told her he had caught the joke. She took two more huge gulps of her drink before leaving the bar.

The streets were not as crowded as they had been, which allowed her to jog to the bank with ease. Normally interstellar mercantiles remained open around the clock, given the time differences all over the solar system. But occasionally they would close for small, routine maintenance sweeps. Depending on the planet, those intervals could last for several hours. If she was lucky, she wouldn’t encounter such a problem. She didn’t know how long they would be on Vias Daruggah, which meant she had to keep the mission tight.

There were several platforms open inside. She claimed one and positioned her face in front of the scanner.

“State your name.”

“Maurra Vinish-Nahood.” Wincing, she realized she hadn’t used her real last name in over two decades. Once she became a JoJo, there was no need for that kind of identification. She had briefly considered using the name she’d used on Alintarus, but because it was an alias, the computers wouldn’t recognize her.

“Confirmed. Select your request.” Several lines of that indecipherable language popped up on the screen.

“Please translate into InterGalac.”

The lines instantly switched to where she could read them.

“Requesting status of funds.”

“Account number.”

“No account number. Requesting availability of funds for client Tramer Vol Brod.”

“Request denied without account number.”

Uttering a little growl of irritation, she tried a different approach. “Requesting last contact with client Tramer Vol Brod.”

“Request denied.”

“Fuck!” She’d forgotten how rigidly a bank protected the identity of its clients. That’s why interstellars were as popular as they were.
Is it possible to outwit a bank brain?

“Requesting transfer of funds.”

“Account number of recipient.”

That one was easy. Maurra punched in the series of symbols with the ease of long practice. There had been hundreds of times when she had needed a few extra creds while on assignment.

“Account confirmed. Account number of depositor.”

“Tramer Vol Brod.”

“Account number of depositor,” the bank repeated.

“Account number unknown.”

“Transfer declined.”

Maurra angrily slapped the monitor. Her reflection stared back at her, including the small bluish orb forming in front of her forehead.
Too bad psychic abilities have no effect on computers.

Maybe not, but they work great on living beings.

Maurra glanced over her shoulder at the creatures coming and going from the bank’s other platforms.

Normally, it was against regulations to invade people’s and probe their emotions without their knowledge unless they were known criminals she was stalking. Maurra smiled. The more she thought about it, the more she found herself enjoying the lack of restraints.

All she needed to do was a full surface scan, hitting every inhabitant within her range. It would be no more than a light skim, just to see if anyone had had any kind of recent contact with her target. It wasn’t quite mind reading, but it was as close to it as she could come.

Tramer Vol Brod.
She placed the man’s name to the forefront and took several deep breaths to prepare herself.

Tramer Vol Brod.

The platform would give her the privacy she needed. The ball of psychic energy hovering in front of her face tended to attract attention.

Tramer Vol Brod.

She had nothing to go on but a hunch. But if someone here knew or had heard of Tramer Vol Brod, it would be enough. Everyone a person came in contact with always left an emotional fingerprint. If he had been here and met someone, she would find the residue, and she would be able to follow that slender clue. All she needed was the spark.

Tramer Vol Brod.

Closing her eyes, she opened her hands and held them palm-out. Her focus strengthened, fueled by the anger she had been nursing ever since the man had kidnapped her. Taking a deep breath, she sent her blanket of energy out across the city without fear of having it recognized. In its dispersed form it was nearly invisible. No more than the palest blue luminescence on this world bathing in the rays a dwarf blue sun.

Tramer Vol Brod.

She passed over people. Through people. Around people. Barely touching their minds as she checked them out. She didn’t need to go deep. If her target had been here, either in person or by interstellar communications, the memories would be fresh and lying right at the surface.

She touched Safan’s mind but withdrew without brushing through it. She could sense her image already resting on the surface, and beneath it simmered his emotions brought about by memories of last night. She got the faintest whisper of him interacting with another person. Maybe a client. Even so, he was slightly pissed about having his original train of thought interrupted. Smiling, Maurra went on.

Tramer Vol Brod.

There was less traffic on the roadways and in the skies as people settled down for the evening. Maurra wondered how Safan was doing as she whirled through large groups and pockets of sentient creatures. She knew without asking that he was as eager to make Vol Brod pay for what had been done to them as she was.

Tramer Vol Brod.

A visage suddenly flashed into her mind with blinding clarity. Maurra could see the tall, thin man with intense gray eyes as if he were standing before her. The expression on his face was a mixture of impatience and worry.

Tramer Vol Brod.

She instantly grasped the mind of the person holding the information she needed with psychic hands and slid invisible fingers further into his brain. Maurra whirled around with her breath caught in her throat. He had been here on this world yesterday, and she finally had a clue as to where he might be.

She ran back to the bar to get Safan.

She turned down the street where the bar was located. Safan walked out the door, talking with a creature she couldn’t place. He looked up as she joined them.

“Maurra, this is…” The name he pronounced wasn’t pronounceable for her. Neither could her translator find any equivalent. She gave the creature a slight nod to acknowledge him and remained quiet to listen, but her senses were revving, sending her warning signals of something imminent. Something dangerous. Telling her not to trust the large sluglike alien. She was tempted to scan it when Safan continued, “We’re taking on a load of ansia byrite crystals and taking it to Trisom Villig.”

She bobbed her head again and dismissed the client. Ansia byrite required a special containment field, and their ship had that equipment. If Safan believed dealing with this alien was safe enough, she had to learn to trust his instincts. She continued to play mute.

The creature squidged out a few more syllables of its impossible language, to which Safan answered in his deep voice. The comparison would have been laughable if it hadn’t been so serious. Adding another watery blurp, the thing gave a nod in reply and slithered off on it monopod underbelly. Unfortunately the warning signals didn’t lessen with the thing’s departure. She debated whether to say something. Safan placed a hand on her back and turned to head for their ship.

“Let’s go.”

“Safan, something about that client isn’t right.”

“The client isn’t the most law-abiding of creatures. Of course you’re going to get bad vibes from it.”

“No, I think it’s more than that.”

He shot her a questioning look. “All right. I’ll heed the warning and keep up my guard. Anything else?”

“Yes! I got a lead on Vol Brod!”

“Hush. I know. So did I.”

“What?”

“In the ship, Maurra. Don’t forget we’re strangers out here, and everyone is watching to see if we can be trusted.”

She bit her lip and remained silent until they were back inside the
Lorrmandi II.
As the door sealed shut, she followed him into the bridge area.

“All right. Spill it.” She watched as he punched in the coordinates for Trisom Villig before looking back at her. Something was bothering him. Had been bothering him ever since she rejoined him at the bar. At the time she had dismissed it as being a result of their job offer, but not anymore. By now it was pouring off of him in waves.

“Vol Brod has a bounty on our heads.”

“He
what?
”

“Somehow he’s found out I’ve escaped the mines, and that you and I have hooked back up. The man is smart, as well as dangerous. He knows we’re coming after him.”

Maurra took a step back. “How did you find out?”

“The mine incident was broadcast over the news service in the bar. It mentioned my escape and the resulting bounty. Fortunately, my escape is only a priority two alert, since I’m not considered a danger. But everyone is being told to be on the watch for an Ellinod in the company of a red-haired human. The only thing that wasn’t mentioned was your psi powers or that you used to be a JoJo.”

“That’s to our advantage. But now we’re wanted criminals. Safan, is someone going to come after you to take you back to the mines?” She cursed herself for not thinking about it earlier. Another thought struck her. She had told the warden she was heading for Farak Took Mees. That planetary system was in the opposite direction from Bansheer Prime. Safan’s choice had inadvertently given them a few days’ grace. To her relief, he shook his massive head.

“No. They won’t come after me, but that doesn’t mean Vol Brod hasn’t hired a bounty hunter or two to search for us. Maurra, the bounty is ten million creds.”

“Oh, sweet heavens!” She took another step back and stumbled. She would have fallen onto the floor in shock if Safan hadn’t grabbed her first and pulled her against his massive chest. She clutched his shirt with white knuckles and pressed her cheek against it as his warmth seeped into her.

Ten million creds? The number was simply too large for her to comprehend. Where did the man get that kind of money? Just how much had he charged his customers to watch her and Safan screw? For that matter, how many customers subscribed?

“What are we going to do?” Strange, how being held like this calmed her. It allowed her to gather her wits so she could think more clearly.

“Right now? We refuel, grab our cargo and deliver it. You’ll have to wait a bit longer to replace that translator. Sorry.”

“That’s all fine and good for now, but what about afterward? What’s to stop someone else from putting a bounty out on us?”

Drawing her away, he lowered his face closer to hers as he continued to grip her by the arms. “Unless by some sort of miracle I’m given a reprieve, it’s a possibility we’ll have to face. You knew you would be guilty of collusion when you came to rescue me, didn’t you?”

She had known it, but the need to rescue him from the mines had been more important to her than the risk of being branded a criminal. “I’m not used to being on this side of the law.”

“Neither am I. Guess that makes it a learning process for both of us.”

Safan released her and ordered the ship to head for the nearest fueling station, then reached into his pants pocket to hand her a receiving disk. “Here’s our advance. There’s four hundred creds on it. We get another four when the recipient acknowledges the delivery. Can you resupply while I have the engines scanned?”

“Sure. Anything in particular you want or that I need to know?”

“I’ll eat anything except gorse. I’m allergic to it.”

She paused and gave him a small smile. “Funny. So am I. All right. I’ll be as quick as possible. Where are we picking up the job?”

“We’re meeting the Xelopian over on pad 625. If you’re not back here in forty quadrills, I’ll meet you over there.”

Maurra quickly converted the time into units she could follow and set her internal clock. “Let me have that little cylindrical communications device again, just in case.”

Safan found the tiny capsule where she’d left it on the console and handed it to her. As their fingers touched, she looked up to see a worried frown on his face.

“Watch your back, Maurra,” he said, his gravelly voice filled with concern. “I don’t completely trust the Xelopian, but we had no other choice. Until we get our bearings, every transaction is risky at this point.”

She nodded and turned to leave, but his grip remained firm. She was about to ask if there was anything else but was silenced with a kiss. It was a long, warm one that sent little shivers all the way to her toes. Other than his hand and his lips, he didn’t touch her. There was no other bodily contact, but she felt as if she was being lovingly embraced. More and more, her mate found ways to bind her to him.

When the kiss was over, she quickly left the ship and headed back into town.