Drifters' Alliance, Book 2 (11 page)

Idiot.
No one gets that jacked up over poultry, not even way out here.

“Well, they’re not very fresh, but we might have one.” My heart is hammering in my chest. If this guy knows about the dead chickens, what can that mean for us? For the Alliance? Maybe he’s Alliance and this is some kind of test.

“I’d be interested. No need for freshness. Gonna feed it to my pig I got back at the old homestead, so, you know, even rotten is good.”

Ho-ly crap.
He went for it.
Captain Boob is right.

“Great to hear,” I say, using my soothing voice, letting him think I’m that stupid. “How about we dock up and see what there is to see? I’m sure you’ve got something I’d love to have on your ship.”

“You got it, little lady. Happy to. Standard protocol?”

I try really, really hard to keep the grin out of my voice. “Yeah, sure. Standard is fine. Looking forward to doing business with you.”

As soon as he starts to move his ship into position and we cut the comm link, I smash my hand onto the array and yell. “All crewmembers, prepare to be boarded by a stinking liar who is trying to pull a scam on us. Engineering, you there?” My breath is coming out in puffs as my pulse races way too fast.

“Oh, hell yeah, we’re here, Captain,” Gus says. “You want us to arm up? I got a ray repeater down here that’ll knock your socks off. Or his socks off. It’ll leave your socks alone. As long as it’s aimed properly, of course.”

“No, keep the arms unobtrusive. I don’t want him knowing we have the intent to keep him here, and I don’t want him seeing any firepower.”

“Got it. Engineering, outskeez.”

Lucinda cuts in from the biogrid. “I don’t know what you expect me to do.”

“Lock up, Lucinda. No admittance to anyone, not even into the antechamber, and that includes Rollo.”

“Okay.” She sounds more alert now. “Anything I should be aware of?”

“Turns out Rollo’s an old friend who’s kind of pissed at me, so he’s not going to be working on the grid for now.”

“Great,” she says, hissing out a breath. “Forget sleeping, I guess.”

“I’ll get you some help, I promise.”
Even if I have to turn myself into a damn brownshins again
. “I’ve gotta go. Just stay locked up until further notice.”

“Understood. Biogrid out.”

“Jeffers,” I say, after linking up the hallway outside the float chamber where he’s standing and watching Macon beyond the portal window.

“Yes, Captain?”

“We’re being boarded by Captain Boob. I mean, Captain Bob.” I have to pause to wipe the sweat from my brow. “Lock Macon in the chamber and join me in the cargo bay, would you, please?”

“Yes, Captain. Right away.” He locks the portal, and Macon doesn’t even flinch. It’s like he’s given up, and that hurts even more than him being angry with me.

“Adelle!” I don’t realize I’m yelling until my voice bounces around the flightdeck. I clear my throat to try and get a handle on my emotions.

“Yes, Captain.”

“We’re going to dock up with that PC cruiser off the starboard side. I’ll need your assistance with that, and also, I’d like you to tap into his electronics if at all possible and disable them.”

“He might have a coldwall up, which would interfere in my ability to do that.”

“I realize that. Just do the best you can. I don’t want him getting off my ship until I’m good and ready.”

“I will do my best, Captain.”

I run from the flightdeck, the cargo bay my destination.

Chapter Sixteen

OUR SHIPS LINKED TOGETHER, CAPTAIN Bob comes through the airlock. A blinking red light above his head in the short corridor alerts me to the fact that he’s armed. His curly black hair and bushy beard make him look like an old-school Earth pirate. The big, overfed gut hanging over a thick leather belt is not hurting that image one bit. If he smiles at me and has metal for teeth, I will not be surprised.

“If you could just leave your weapons on your side, that’d be great,” I say, smiling as encouragingly as I can.

He pauses. “Not sure that’s such a good idea for my welfare.” He rubs the buttons of his shirt at the front of his belly, then his fingers glide over and scratch at a spot off to the side. His upper teeth bite into the beard below his lower lip as his eyes roam the cargo space, taking its measure.

Ew.
I can only imagine how long it’s been since he’s bathed. The smell drifting over from his direction tells me it’s been a while.

I shrug off his concerns. “It’s just policy. No one from another ship gets on with weapons. But if it makes you feel any better, all I have on me is this.” I point to the knife at my leg and try to look as girly as possible. Twirling my hair around my finger seems like the thing to do. I grin as hard as I can while doing it.

He frowns at me. “You feelin’ okay, little lady? Ya look a little … piqued.”

I stop the twirling and the grinning.
I guess I’m not as good at the girly thing as I thought. Dammit.
“Yeah, I’m fine. You here to deal or not? I don’t have all day.”

“Thought you were hanging around for somethin’,” he says, pulling a gun from his waistband at his back and twirling it around like he’s a practiced gunslinger. I’ve met enough droid heads to know that the ability to spin a gun doesn’t necessarily translate into the ability to fire one and hit anything accurately, so it doesn’t impress me like I think it’s supposed to.

I shrug. “Just doing a little spit shine on the ship.” I gesture to the still marked-up walls in the cargo bay around us. “As you can see, she’s in pretty bad shape.”

“You been captain for long on her?” His eyes continue to roam the space in appraisal. He’s probably dreaming about stealing her from me, the bastard.

“Nope. Just got her. Got lots to do to get her shipshape.” I rub my hands together. “Put that gun in the airlock and we can get started. What’ve you got to trade?”

He walks backward very slowly, reaching up to hang his gun by the trigger loop on a hook inside the airlock, just past the door on our side.

“Welp … I got me some quasicrystal if you’re interested.”

“What kind?” Baebong would probably give one of his eyeteeth for a chunk big enough to power one of his stupid gadgets. The refractions coming off some of those things can focus a lot of power, depending on its clarity and subtype.

“Katang rose.”

I nod.
Yep. Baebong is going to be handing over some teeth
. “Nice. Can I see it?”

He shrugs. “Let me see your chicken first.”

“It’s in the deep freeze right now. We were trying to keep the smell from getting too bad.”

Tam shows up at the entrance to the corridor that leads into the cargo bay. “We all good in here? Need me for anything?”

“No, thanks, Tam. I’m going to have Jeffers show us to the deep freeze so Captain Bob here can take a look at what we have to trade. He’s interested in
chicken
.” I open my eyes a little wider so he can see that I have a plan. Kind of.

I don’t actually know where the damn deep freeze is; I just know that this is where we decided to keep the schlafhammer and its smelly host until we know better what to do with it, and it’s got to be a more confined area than this cargo hold. I need to get Captain Bob in a smaller space without his gun, and then I’ll be able to control the situation with minimal risk to myself or my crew.

Tam nods. “Oh, okay. Gotcha. Chicken. Cool.” He backs slowly out of the cargo area and into the corridor, quickly disappearing from view.

Jeffers moves off toward a hallway I haven’t explored too much yet, and I gesture for Captain Bob to precede me. He walks sideways, apparently not too excited about leaving his back exposed to me like that.
I guess he’s not as stupid as he looks.

“Why’d you keep it?” he asks. “The chicken. If it was stinkin’ and all.”

“I wasn’t going to, actually. But this guy who used to be on the ship came after me for it, so I figured it was pretty special to him, at least. Thought he might come after us again, and decided it’d be better to have a bargaining chip if he’s going to be persistent about it.”

I focus on Bob’s body language, trying to figure out if he knows Tremblay by his reaction. So far, he’s giving nothing away, walking slumped over, looking over his left shoulder at me every few seconds. Apparently, he expects my attack to come in the form of me jumping on his back, but that’s not how this is going to go down. I don’t plan for there to be that much body contact, if and when I take him out.

“Some guy, huh?” he asks. ”You don’t know him?”

“I know his name, but that’s about it.” I gesture at our guide. “Jeffers knows him better than I do.”

“His name is Tremblay,” Jeffers says, not turning around. He moves up a narrow set of stairs to a small door ahead. It has a wheel lock on the front of it that has to be turned with two hands. “He piloted this ship before Cass came to be captain.” Jeffers grips the ring and begins to turn it. “I didn’t know too much about him outside of that.”

“Do you know him?” I ask Bob.

“Nope, don’t recognize the name. Can’t say that I do. Nope. Never met him.”

Lie. Okay, so Captain Bob knows the pilot and he knows about the chicken, too. Does this mean he’s Alliance? That Tremblay’s Alliance?
I’m finding either one of those scenarios hard to believe. If they
are
Alliance, it makes me worry about joining.
Do I really want to be aligned with guys like this, dependent on them for my survival?
The whole idea is rather sickening when I think about it for more than two seconds. This guy is one of the worst liars and the worst players of the lame duck gambit I’ve ever encountered.

Jeffers pushes in the door and steps into a small chamber just in front of a wall of large drawers. His breath comes out in puffs of white smoke around his face. “Do you remember which drawer, Captain?” Jeffers is waiting for me to tell him what to do. The only problem is, now that I’m here, I have no idea what my next step should be.

Chapter Seventeen

BOB TURNS TO ME, A smirk on his face. “Yes, which one is it, Captain? Tell us.”

I look at the bank of drawers in front of me, my vision going a little blurry. It’s like I’m playing a game of truth or dare, and I’m almost sure the truth is going to be the wrong answer here.
Better turn this game around, then, Cass.

I smile, acting like I haven’t a care in the world. “First tell me how you know Tremblay.”
Truth or dare, Captain Boob?

Captain Bob turns around to face me more fully now, leaving Jeffers at his back.
First mistake, asshole.

“What makes you think I know this Tremblay person?”

“I know that’s why you’re here. You heard about our … chicken … and decided to get it for yourself. What I don’t know is whether this is a deal negotiated between you and Langlade’s man, or if you decided to go rogue and just take it for yourself once you realized he’d lost possession of it.”

He smirks. “You sure do get your head in a twist over some crazy things, don’t you? You been in the dark too long, little lady? That why you’re so obsessed with dead animals? You know, back in the day, they used to call things like that roadkill, and they weren’t good for keeping around.”

So, you’re choosing dare, is that it? Argh
, I hate it when people don’t cooperate.

My eyes roll in annoyance. “Another Earth lover. Figures.” I back up a step to prepare myself for the inevitable. Narrowing my eyes at him, I rest my hand on my dagger. “I’m giving you another chance to answer my questions before I become more forceful about it. Why don’t you spare us both the hassle and come forward?” I point at his beard. “Do that and I promise not to cut that roadkill off your face.”

He leans way back and bursts out a big belly guffaw that leaves his midsection jumping around long after he’s done enjoying himself at my expense.

“Aren’t you a pistol!” He’s grinning, but there’s a hint of malice to it that has me alert to potential sudden moves that he might be thinking about making against me. “Cute too. Too bad you don’t know how to use the brains God gave you.” He reaches out toward me with one of his big mitts.
Second mistake, asshole.

My knife catches him in mid grab. The upward, reverse stroke I used opens up the palm of his hand to the tune of a six centimeter slash that’ll take enough stitches to close that I’m not worried about him using that hand against me anytime soon.

As the man howls in pain, Jeffers grabs him over the shoulder at his collarbone, using a simple three-fingered
pinch with a deep thrust from his thumb behind the bone
to bring the guy to his knees. I watch as Captain Bob’s eyes widen and then glaze over in pain as he slowly sinks to the ground with his hand cradled to his chest, where it continues to bleed down his shirt.

My knife is dripping fat-hairy-pirate blood, so I lower it to his shoulder and wipe it off. When it’s as clean as it’s going to get, I bring the point to the guy’s face so he can see the tip of it really clearly. “Ever been stuck in a deep freezer before?”

His beard is trembling from rage or fear, I’m not sure which. Not that it matters. I’m in too far to turn back now.

“It’s pretty painful, actually.” My voice is light, almost happy. I attribute this to the fact that at least I’m getting somewhere with him now. Besides, he chose a dare over giving me the truth. It’s not my fault he underestimated his opponents. “Especially for the fingers, the toes … and then the nose and the chin for some reason.” I think back to the time when I was forced to endure that torture. I’m lost in the memory for a few seconds before I come back to the matter at hand. “It’s a lot easier to just answer questions, to be honest. I mean, the freezing is bad, but the thawing out is way worse. Trust me on this.”

His mouth is trembling with rage. “You’re going to pay for this.”

“I’m already paying for it.” I wave my hand in front of my face. “Jesus, when was the last time you washed?”

He lifts his elbows, like he’s thinking about using his one good hand to slash out at me, but he needs to get his balance first. I don’t think this guy gets on his knees very often.

I shake my head. “Don’t do it, Pirate. I’m fresh out of patience with you.” I step a little closer, letting the blade get nearer to his nose. He’s going cross-eyed looking at it for a moment before he lifts his gaze to me, his dark eyes narrowed. “You came at me with bad intentions, Captain Bob. That gives me the right to defend myself by any means necessary.” I sway the knife around and back off a little. “Tremblay’s not worth the price you’ll pay for not telling me what I want to know.”