Authors: W. C. Bauers
“Don't mind him.” Tanin returned with her meal and a glass of water on the rocks. “He just wants your food, not his. Please don't feed him. He's partial to fingers.”
“Thanks for the tip. He's pretty cute.”
The creature scowled at the bartender before blowing Promise a kiss, and then he climbed a tree branch and disappeared into the foliage.
“Yeah, well don't let his eyes or charms fool you. He can con you with two, but the third is always on the meal.” Tanin held up his left hand and waved his center digit. It was missing the first joint. “My souvenir from my first day on the job, and I don't regen. The previous barkeep didn't bother to warn me.”
At this, a furry three-eyed head dropped through the leaves upside down, looked at Tanin with two eyes open and the middle one closed, and stuck out a long blue tongue at him.
“Laugh it up, Punk,” Tanin said as he gave the beast his truncated middle finger.
“He's pretty smart, too. What's his name?”
Tanin looked at Promise squarely. “It's Punk, and believe me, he deserves it.”
“Hello, little Punk,” Promise said, and then she blew the fur ball a kiss.
A furry arm dropped into view, waved at Promise, and gave Tanin its middle finger before it disappeared.
Tanin scowled and shook his head. “I won't keep you two from each other. Holler if you need me. I'm on break for the next ten. I'll just be over there.” He pointed toward a couch and screen in the far corner. A large wooden tribal mask hung from the overhead. “The Stellars-Grayclings game is on holocast and I'm only through inning three. I have box seats, too.”
“Wait ⦠isn't that an old game?”
“Ah, so you're a fan?”
“A friend of one.” She was thinking of Sergeant SindriâMaxi. “He gambles a bit and loves to talk sports. I've picked up a few things from him over the years. I don't recall the century.”
“Twenty-sixth, during the Sector Series. A few planets tried to make a go of a mulitworld league. Unforeseen costs quickly bankrupted the venture. Such a shame. It was a marvelous series. The Stellars won in the sixth game, final inning.”
“Well, enjoy.” Promise held up her half-full mug. “Fantastic caf by the way.”
“My pleasure,” Tanin said.
Promise dug into a heaping plate of al dente pasta, shellfish, and something like squid. She got a shock when a tentacle latched itself to her back molar and refused to let go. She had to chew it to death. The food was well seasoned and on the raw side for her taste, but altogether satisfying. Promise gave herself permission to lick the plate clean.
I am on vacation. A few extra klicks in the morning should take care of that.
She was halfway through a second cup of caf when a man joined her on the opposite side of the bar. Tanin placed a tall beer in front of him without saying a word. Promise nodded when he looked up. He seemed lost in another place and looked right through her. He wore a fitted, white, short-sleeved shirt with
KIES
embroidered over the heart. The man worked out.
A lot.
She couldn't help noticing the ink on his arm. It was nearly a full sleeve. She thought she saw the coiled tail of something much larger too. Her hand snaked up her arm to her shoulder, which was still pretty angry from her time in the chair with the father. When the man cleared his throat, Promise realized she'd been staring at him.
“Sorry,” Promise said from across the bar. “I was admiring your tattoo.”
His eyes could have frozen space.
“Enjoy your stay on the tourosphere.” He held her gaze a moment longer, until she looked away.
Tanin broke the awkwardness of the moment with a second beer and a plate of sushi. He placed both without saying a word. Then he skirted the bar to Promise's side, and grabbed a pitcher of water on his way around.
“One of your colleagues?” Promise asked in a low voice, nodding to the other man.
“Yes and no. We both work for Kies. He's corporate. I know what he drinks and eats, and to leave him well enough alone.” Tanin gave her a firm look. “The rest isn't my business.”
“I was just admiring his ink. I got my first before coming here.” Promise patted her shoulder. “His line work is exquisite. Even from here I can see that. Do you know what the tail goes to?”
“A dragon. I've seen the rest and it looks cultural, from where I couldn't say.”
“Local artist?”
“You'll have to ask him but I wouldn't bother. Name's Wade. I'm back to my game. Yell if you need something.”
Promise finished her caf and keyed her minicomp. She added a hefty tip for Tanin and sent a quick thank-you to his queue. As she got up to leave, Wade pushed back too, and they locked eyes. This time there was a hint of something else in them. Wade gave her a reluctant nod, looked left, right, and behind him, and then headed for the entrance.
He just checked his sight lines and the exits. Strange thing for a corporate type to do. Unless â¦
Beneath the shirt she noticed the slightest bulge, by the left kidney. Wade was packing.
And he's a leftie.
Â
MAY 14
TH
, 92 A.E., STANDARD CALENDAR, 2337 HOURS
PLANET GUINEVERE, NIGHTSIDE
KIES ORBITAL TOUROSPHERE
As Promise exited White
Kies she caught sight of Wade entering the hotel Tribeca, on the opposite side of the concourse. A small kiosk of Kies souvenirs flanked the entrance. The lobby was open-aired, giving her an unobstructed view. And, given the lateness of the hour, deserted. She'd briefly considered staying at the Tribeca until she saw the nightly rate. The four-star hotel lay along the outer wheel of the tourosphere. The presidential suite was famous for its swimming pool that seemed to flow into space.
Just inside, Wade stopped at the hotel's caf bar and withdrew his minicomp.
Which reminds me. I said I'd make the best of this.
Promise glanced at her chrono, and then realized she had no schedule to keep but her own.
Perhaps, just this once, I'll take a lesson from Maxi and spend some of my hard-earned chits. But only a bit.
As she reached the kiosk, Gunnar appeared in a white Kies uniform, and asked if she was after something specific.
“No, thank you. Just browsing.”
“I have several items on special. Perhaps you'd like to see.⦔
A small light-blue tote immediately caught her eye; then she scanned the price.
Oh, well.
The white and blue Kies souvenir cup was cheap enough, and it fit within her budget.
“We're running a three-for-two special, today only,” said Gunnar. So she scooped up two moreâone for Maxi and one for Kathyâand the lapel pin for her PT cap. She held out her bracelet to pay.
Out of the corner of her eye a man and a woman appeared from a door marked
EMPLOYEES ONLY
. Promise paid them little attention at first, until the man gently shoved the woman forward, causing her to stumble a bit. There was a brief exchange of words, but Promise was too far away to make them out. Her antennae shot up instantly.
The couple made their way to Wade, and a moment later ordered drinks. The man opened his hand and gestured toward the woman, palm up, from head to toe. Like Wade, he was middle-aged. His hair was braided and pulled back and tied with a lavender ribbon. The woman seemed younger, but from this distance Promise couldn't be sure.
The woman's dress was floor-length and hooded. When the older gentleman pulled the hood back and brushed the woman's face with his hand, Promise felt her gut knot up.
She was just a girl, perhaps a young woman at a stretch. The men shook hands and Wade headed to the lift while the ponytail and the girl stayed at the bar.
Promise moved to the minicomp cases on autopilot. She found an armband died a lovely shade of blueâfor her morning runsâand a large bill hat to match. She purchased them and a Kies tote bag to carry it all in without checking the price. While she paid, the girl became agitated and shook her head. Their voices rose, and Promise heard the girl say, “No.” Then she tried to pull away and Ponytail spilled his caf. He grabbed her arm and pushed her toward the lift at the back of the lobby.
Promise didn't think. She rounded the kiosk, purchases in hand, and jogged between the tables and chairs to reach the lift just as the doors closed.
“Thanks for holding it for me.” Floor ten was already lit. “Eleven please.”
A hint of a smile crossed Ponytail's thin lips. “First time on the station?”
Promise held up her bag stuffed with overpriced trinkets. The simple-script gold Kies insignia on the tote consumed most of one side. “Guilty as charged.”
“My daughter and I spend a lot of time here.” Ponytail's hand was still wrapped around the girl's arm. “I do a bit of consulting for Kies, so⦔ He trailed off as if nothing more needed to be said.
Right.
Promise went fishing. “What sort of consulting?” Promise smiled at the girl, who promptly looked away.
“Mostly legal contracts,” said the man. “Not very interesting I'm afraid.”
The girl shifted her weight and the man pulled her closer to him, and then he pulled her hood on, covering her eyes.
“Forgive my daughter's rudeness. She ate something that didn't agree with her.”
“Well, I hope you get to feeling better.”
The girl nodded but didn't speak.
Maybe I'm being paranoid. Maybe she really does feel bad. For all I know, there's a perfectly good explanation for all of this.
“I'm off to the surface tomorrow morning ⦠and I've had a long day of travel. Bed sounds good.” She forced a yawn.
“Enjoy. Ahâhere we are. Have a nice stay.” The lift doors opened at ten.
Promise exited a floor above, found the stairwell, and descended as fast as she could, making as little sound as possible. As she reached the stairwell exit she heard voices approaching. Ponytail's was immediately recognizable.
“Try something like that again and it will cost you.” His voice was gruff and pitched low.
Light spilled beneath the exit door, and then flickered as their shadows swept by.
“Mr. Wade is an important client, and he's very particular. You understand?
Answer
me, foolish girl.”
“Yes.” The one-word answer was clipped and full of pain.
“When he's done with you, meet me in the lobby like we discussed. Listen carefully to everything he says. I want a full⦔
Promise lost the conversation as they moved farther from the stairwell door. She counted to ten and tried the door. To her great relief it opened without protest. As she slipped out onto soft butterscotch carpet, they turned the corner and disappeared from view. One hand to the wall, Promise advanced down the corridor until she came to the L, and then she peered around the corner. They were five doors down and still moving. Promise ghosted across the passageway and into the alcove. Two high-back chairs and a small table faced the viewport and the starscape beyond.
Down the hall more words were exchanged, a door opened, and a third voice spoke. Wade's. The door closed and a set of footfalls drew close. Promise slipped into one of the chairs and curled up, waited until the lift opened and closed. Surely the man with the ponytail had returned to the lobby like he'd said he would. A few moments later, Promise was at the door of Room 10312. “Now, go undress,” she heard Wade's muffled voice say. Feet shuffling. Something hit the wall and shattered. She heard a defiant “No,” and the sounds of a struggle.
Promise reached for the stunner concealed against her hip and passed it to her off hand. Fleet Forces were prohibited from carrying lethal weapons while off-base and out of uniform. She'd never have gotten her service pieceâor her GLOCK, for that matterâthrough the platform's security anyway, even though the GLOCK was a registered antique and grandfathered under the RAW's firearms laws. Stunners were allowed with the appropriate permit. It would have to do.
She fished the cap from her bag and pulled it down to conceal her eyes, pulled the bag over her left shoulder, and pushed her hand and the stunner into the bag. Then she put her eye to the scanner on the door of 10312 and blinked rapidly to generate an error. She heard the error message sound, and wondered if it was enough to get Wade's attention.
Better kick the door just to be sure.
“Why does this always keep happening to me?” She kicked the door a second time. “I
just
want to go to bed.” She grabbed the handle and tried to force it open, jostled it in frustration to be sure Wade heard her. “I'm going to give Gunnar a piece of my mind. I paid too much to put up with this crap.” The door clicked, and swung inward. Promise did her best to look surprised.
“Oh, I'm sorry. I must have the wrong room. What number is this?”
Wade was shirtless and dressed only in skivvies. His eyes focused upon her, and then his head tilted slightly. His tattooed dragon covered a third of his body and it seemed to be alive. “Wait, don't I knowâ”
Promise squeezed the trigger as Wade's eyes went wide in recognition. His body tensed immediately from the shock of the blast. She followed up with a hard kick to his groin. Wade stumbled back into the room, bent over in pain.
Â
MAY 14
TH
, 92 A.E., STANDARD CALENDAR, 2346 HOURS
PLANET GUINEVERE, NIGHTSIDE
KIES ORBITAL TOUROSPHERE
Wade stumbled back several
paces and almost went down on the plush carpeting. He somehow managed to get his feet beneath him and when he came up he was actually smiling.
Uh-oh.
“Is that all you've got?” He put his hands up, both palms out in mock surrender, and began moving backward toward the bedroom door.