Fool Me Once (Privateer Tales) (3 page)

I woke up the next day at 1400 local. I loved how I smelled, or more accurately, didn’t smell, and ran my hands through my hair. It felt good to be clean.

Locate closest mineral exchange. Find current value of platinum
.

There are five mineral exchanges within two kilometers of current location. Platinum is trading at forty-two point two oh nine per gram,
the ship answered from the bridge.

I picked up a reading pad. I needed to remember to bring one with me so I wouldn’t have to raise my face shield while I was out. I had no clothing other than my vac-suit. It was one more item I’d need to take care of.

The five hundred gram bar of platinum that Liam Hoffen traded for my cooperation while he took over the Red Houzi base got strapped to my midsection beneath my breasts. It wouldn’t do to lose it. A stack of gold coins worth six thousand m-creds went in a pouch beneath my belt. My first day out would be my safest. Once word got out that I carried valuables, trouble would find me.

I closed the ship's door and walked down the ramp, hoping I’d distracted Benny enough the night before so he hadn’t put the word out on me yet. He'd given away his intent when he mentioned that my ship was unregistered. Dinner and the promise of a date should buy me a couple more days. Money makes people unpredictable, but I'd given myself the best shot I could.

My eyes hurt from the sun. Until last night I'd never been outside a pressurized environment. The sweet smell of the air was intoxicating, but the brightness was blinding. I instinctively held my hand up to cover my eyes. It helped. The next thing I noticed was the noise filtering over the top of the high walls of the Budget Park. I could tell I was in for a lot of new experiences.

Exiting onto the brick streets, I was surprised by the transformation.
Benny’s description was, if anything, too modest. Where it had been mostly empty the night before, now there were tables and tents neatly arranged up and down the entire street. The spectacle continued as far as I could see.

The light filtering through the colored tent awnings was beautiful. There was a cart loaded with flowers of every possible size and shape.
Children were running down the street wearing shorts and t-shirts, and women were in dresses and skirts. Men wore jeans and suits, and though a few people wore their vac-suits, we were very much in the minority. I needed to fix that. I didn't want to stand out.

I chastised myself for getting lost in it all. I was carrying more wealth than I'd ever owned and hoped I could use it to find my sister. I needed to focus. I wasn’t safe and didn’t know where danger would come from first.

My reading pad gave me directions to my first stop - Punjay’s Pawn. It didn’t sound like a place that would buy platinum, but they might bite on the gold coins. The pawn shop was cleaner than I’d expected. The tables outside were filled with displays of jewelry, knives, small electronic devices, and some real books.

Inside the store, a young, dark-skinned man with black, loose curly hair stood behind a glass counter containing more expensive looking jewelry on one side and a handful of pistols on the other. He offered a quick smile as I approached.

“Welcome to Punjay’s. What can I help you find? Perhaps a beautiful ring for your long, lovely fingers?”

“Are you Punjay?” I asked.

“Oh no, but I am his nephew, Samsir. Whatever you need, I will help you.”

“Okay, Samsir.
What can you tell me about this?” I handed him one of the twelve gold coins I carried, already fully aware that the value was close to five hundred m-creds.

Samsir placed the coin on a soft gray scan pad on the counter. He turned a reading pad around so I could see what it had gleaned.

“Very nice. It is a gold dollar coin from early Earth history. I will give you two hundred creds for this.”

“If I sold you that coin for two hundred it would be the last coin you would see.
We both know it’s worth at least six hundred.”

“No, Punjay would fire poor Samsir if I gave away so much of his money. But you seem to be an educated woman and maybe Samsir has underestimated the value of your coin.
Perhaps you would consider two hundred fifty?”

“Well Samsir, I guess Punjay will not need to be upset with you.
I will take no less than five hundred for my coin and it seems you aren't interested. I appreciate your time.”

I picked up the coin and slid it into a small pouch on my suit and turned to walk out. The coins were worth five hundred, but even though I couldn’t expect someone to give me full retail, I wasn’t ready to take a fifty percent loss.
There was time to visit a few more shops.

I was barely outside when I heard the baritone voice of an older man behind me. “Young lady, please come back and visit with me. My boy, Samsir, is under a lot of pressure.”

A man in a long, off-white robe stood in the doorway. The dark skin of his face was framed by a neatly trimmed grey beard and a necklace of satiny black rocks hung from his neck. He wore a gentle smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“With whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?” I asked.

“Punjay Gowda, and this is my humble establishment.” He spread out his hands to indicate the store.

I followed him back inside
and Samsir was nowhere to be seen. We didn’t stop at the front counter, but walked past into an office overlooking the main room of his shop. He motioned for me to sit in one of two ornate red high-backed chairs.

“May I see the coin?” he asked.

I handed it to him.

“It is a beauty. My best number is three hundred fifty. I must have room to make a profit.” He sounded very convincing.

“We’re getting closer, Mr. Gowda, but you need to know I’m looking for a business partner, not a one night stand. How about you give me your best number now or I will just move on. You know better than I do, I will eventually find someone to give me a fair price. I think that should be you, don’t you agree?”

“It would seem I should know your name if we are to be business partners,” he said smoothly.

“My friends call me Lena.”

“Well Lena, my dear, I assume you have more than one of these coins and now you certainly have stirred my curiosity.
It would seem coins of this nature might be in the company of other similarly interesting items. Would that be the type of partner you are looking for?”

“You have a fanciful imagination, Mr. Gowda. Let me state that if I were able to find someone who could help me with this coin, then that would be a good start.”

Punjay Gowda held the coin up and pretended to inspect it in-depth, trying to divine some new hidden value. We both knew it was a show. His AI had already told him what he could expect to sell it for, its break-even point, and had probably offered different thresholds for twenty, thirty, forty and fifty percent returns. He was just buying himself some time.

“Okay, Lena. I’ll bite. Forty-seven fifty for the entire dozen.”

I was a little startled to find he knew I was carrying that many coins. It was a good price. The way I figured it, he would make twenty percent. He was sending a message by tipping his hand about his awareness of the other eleven coins.

“Immediate transfer?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Agreed.”

“Anything else you wish to discuss?” he asked. By now, I had no doubt he knew I had something strapped to my chest. If he was willing to work at twenty percent, I was willing to lay my cards on the table.

“How are you set for funds? Will you work at twenty percent for precious metal, ninety-two percent pure?”

“How much?”

“You would need an additional eighteen thousand.”

“If it pans out, yes,” he answered.

“Immediate transfer as well?”

“Yes.”

I unzipped my suit-liner far enough down the front to unstrap the small platinum bar and placed it on the table.

“Ahh. Platinum. You are asking eighteen thousand?”

“I am.”

Standing outside a few minutes later, I considered my accomplishments. If I didn’t settle anything else that day, liquidating those assets was enough. I could now move to my next objective - trying to fit in. For that, I needed to do some people watching.

I consulted my map, even though I knew it would mark me as a tourist. I was no longer carrying anything of any value, so my risk was low. There was a concentration of restaurants a few blocks away and I was hungry.

Small round tables with umbrellas, littered the restaurant district I’d discovered. Subtle differences in table size and umbrella style or color made it obvious which tables belonged to which cafés. It was hard to imagine that this hadn’t been here last night or that the décor wasn’t anything but original. The building’s walls looked like they had been there for centuries and the weather-worn look of the bricks in the street gave that same feeling of age. I felt completely out of place in my vac-suit and poorly maintained hair.

If the waiter noticed, he was polite enough not to say anything, and I was grateful for that small kindness.
I didn’t recognize anything on the menu. I needed to choose a persona. Who would I be? What would my story be? I scanned the crowd for women my age and tried to figure out who they were and what they might be doing. The first women who caught my attention was in a flowery dress with bright red shoes. She had matching glossy red paint on her lips and long flowing blonde hair. There were bags on the ground next to her, so she was obviously out shopping. A thin flat golden wire ran along her cheek from her ear to just in front of her eye. I wasn’t sure how it was attached but it was an HUD of some sort. She sat there chatting loudly into it and drinking from an impossibly small cup of something. Clearly, a woman with few problems on her mind. It wouldn’t be my first choice, but I thought I could pull it off, if necessary. She was mesmerizing to watch. The world owed her and she knew it.

The waiter caught my attention, “Madame, have you decided?” He spoke with an accent I didn’t recognize.

“I’m new in town and not sure what is good to eat. Would you make a recommendation?” The waiter was at least forty years old and I knew, being a man, he couldn't resist the request. His face lit up.

“Oh, then let Moreno take care of you, if you please. Such a beautiful woman is a joy to serve.
The chef has a delightful antipasto with a delicious vino cheese. We would follow that with a small serving of our fettuccini noodles with olive oil and to top it off, a pastry made right here by our very own chef.” He beamed at me.

“That sounds wonderful, Moreno.” I was a little afraid it would be too much, but I needed to spend time here.
Moreno bustled off, only to return with a small glass of a white bubbly drink.

“d’Asti for the lady,” he announced and waited for me to take a drink. I obliged and found it to be sweet and alcoholic. I smiled in acknowledgement.

The next woman I saw was quite the opposite of the flowery woman with red shoes. Dressed entirely in gray, she wore long pants and a coat. Her hair was pulled back severely and she punctuated her conversation with sharp movements. She was interesting, but a business woman was not what I was looking for.

Moreno brought out a small plate of cheese with thin pieces of meat.

“Your antipasto.” He bustled off without waiting to see if I enjoyed it or not.

By the time I'd finished my meal and a delicious cup of coffee, I was both physically full and mentally comfortable with the person I wanted to become. Watching the restaurant patrons and others walking by, I felt like I had a range of styles and personas that made sense for me. Now, I just had to find a shop that would be able to work the transformation I had in mind. Finding the right place might require a bit of a walk, but the Martian air was still as sweet smelling as it had been this morning and I had a pocket full of m-creds that needed a new home.

The first several clothing vendors I approached had some items that looked nice, but even with the help of a sales person, nothing came together quite right. I almost walked by a strange shop, a table really, with nothing on it but two large reading pads and a sign that read, ‘Boutique.’ The woman, sitting by herself, returned my gaze with only mild interest. She was striking, dressed in a black tunic and long skirt, with high-heeled black shoes. With deeply tanned skin and straight black hair that was neatly trimmed at shoulder length, she was a picture of quiet sophistication. This was a woman who could help me.

“You don’t look like my normal clientele.” Her voice was lower and huskier than I’d expected.

“Is that a problem?” I asked, probably with more hostility than necessary.

“Not at all.
I like a challenge.”

“I need a new look and I think you can help me.” I tried to retract the claws.

“Why me? There are plenty of shops around here.”

I couldn't understand what I had done to perturb her, so I pressed on. "Instinct."

She looked me up and down and then twirled her finger at me. I obliged by turning around.