Smuggler's Blues
The atmosphere on the moon was thin but breathable and, John suspected, artificial. It was also thick with dust and pollutants. In order to preserve the soil of the planet, Kinfea Prime's inhabitants had moved all of their industrial facilities to Gital Deep. Raw material mined on the main world was also shipped off world for processing here. The result was a settlement that reminded John of Detroit on a still day. The landscape was suspended in night and the inhabitants traversing the streets of the station did so with an air of blue-collar revelry. Laborers and industrial workers mingled with travel weary space traders, spending the day's wage or bounty on intoxicants and entertainment. The spirits were strong and the diversions were typically lewd and violent. What little order there was, came at the end of a pulse pistol. Or by the threat of one.
Docking at Gital Deep's spaceport was easy. Legal Authority had no jurisdiction on the moon station. Cabmauri had warned them that a Council of criminal Houses regulated trade here, exerting complete control. No one would ask questions. It was hardly reassuring.
Their destination was deep within the sprawl of structures that crowded around the spaceport. Bonyon Daul operated a Leu Den, providing a narcotic drug to anyone with the currency and time to spend under the influence of induced bliss. They had no trouble finding the building. It seemed anyone they asked knew how to get there.
John was first through the door. His features were schooled to the emotional indifference common on Peacekeepers. A military stance forced his chin up, shoulders back, the pulse pistol at his side in clear sight. He had practiced this display of intimidation before and did it well, but it hung on him like a sweater two sizes two big. His appearance seemed to garner little attention from the inebriated clients of the den but he made a show of scrutinizing the place anyway.
Heavy purple smoke clung to the low ceiling, making it difficult to see the details of the room. Mellowed light filtered through glass wall sconces, briefly illuminating ornate carved beams that supported the roof. Most of the patrons lounged on couches placed conveniently in clusters around the bowl shaped Leu pipes. Transparent curtains of multicolored gauze enclosed alcoves along the walls, providing somewhat secluded areas for shy guests. Attendants moved with languid care among the sofa clusters, refilling the pipes with a powdered mineral from the small pots they carried.
John was beginning to suspect he was the most hostile creature in the place until he spotted the security guards watching discreetly from corners. They eyed him with a professional curiosity but had apparently concluded what John had hoped they would. The black leather clad Sebacean was merely a bodyguard for whoever was coming through the door next. Around here, it was not uncommon or unexpected.
John reached back to push open the door. On cue, Chiana sauntered in with her typical smug grin and velvet purrs. "Now this is what I call a party." D'Argo followed just behind her, taking a position by the door opposite John.
An attendant moved toward the Nebari, bowing low as he approached. "How may I be of service?"
Chiana tilted her head to one side, running her tongue along her lips. "You can start by telling your boss he has a visitor. Tell him Chiana is here, with regards from Cabmauri."
The attendant bowed again and turned, moving toward one of the room's other doors. As he passed, he gestured at the house security. Two of the guards stepped out from their places, making their presence and purpose more apparent as weapons were revealed.
John's hand went immediately to his pulse pistol and D'Argo began to reach over his shoulder toward his Qualta Blade. Chiana made a clicking noise with her tongue, preventing the show of force from turning into anything more then a declaration of intent. "Relax, boys. We're here on business. Not pleasure."
"Just a precaution," said a silken voice from across the room. "When mercenaries ask for me. They are most anxious to demonstrate their loyalty."
Bonyon was tall for a Kinfea and lanky, with limbs that seemed stretched beyond normal proportions. His face was also narrow with a high brow and the flesh visible beneath his priest like robes was streaked with subtle gray. He clasped his hands together and inclined his head in greeting.
Chiana turned the full force of her charm on the individual. "At least they enjoy their work." She gave a terse glance over her shoulder. "Stand down, boys. Try to display a few manners. After all, we're guests."
She was good at this John had to admit. Not that he ever doubted her ability to convincingly con their way through a successful transaction. It is why they had all agreed that Chiana should take the lead, delegating John and D'Argo as her personal security. It was not so different from the plan used at the Shadow Depository. Except then it was Zhaan as the ringleader and Aeryn beside him. He quickly pushed the memory from his mind. There was very little about it that was worth remembering anyway.
"And a lovely one at that." Bonyon nodded toward his own guards, indicating that they could retreat into their corners. "Shall we?" The man gestured toward one of the screened alcoves in the back of the den.
"Works for me."
The smoke was starting to get to John as he followed Chiana and Bonyon toward the alcove. It made his eyes sting and irritated his nose. Worse then that, his senses dulled like he was on the receiving end of a Thorazine drip. The longer he stayed here, the more John was sure he wouldn't care if Scorpius walked through the door, dragging the Aurora Chair behind him. As Chiana and Bonyon ducked into the alcove, he was glad his part required nothing more then to stand outside the curtain and keep watch.
John looked over toward D'Argo to see if the narcotic smoke was affecting him as well, but the Luxan appeared fine. It was good that someone would be able to keep their wits about them. Truth be told, there was no one in this arm of the galaxy he would rather have at his back then D'Argo.
Well, that was not entirely accurate. He would prefer Aeryn. There was symmetry to the way they worked together. Each one balanced out the other's faults to the point where they existed as one flawless entity. The smile these thoughts brought to his face was bitter and he was quick to quell it. There was no telling where Aeryn was right now or what she was doing. It was better to not think of it.
Besides, he needed to focus on the here and now if they wanted to get Jool back. He had been uncomfortable leaving her back on the planet. In many ways, the two of them were alike. Forgetting the biological similarities that Grunchlk insisted upon at the Diagnosan's facility, they shared circumstances. Both of them had been propelled from their safe, cozy lives and dropped into an environment they were unprepared to deal with. John had had longer to adapt, but he still felt like a babe in the woods most of the time. He could relate to the anxiety Jool must be feeling right now.
Although from what he had learned about her, John almost felt more sorry for Cabmauri.
"What is funny?"
John blinked toward D'Argo, unaware that he had laughed aloud. "Nothing," he said with a shake of his head. "Contact buzz. I'm cool. No worries."
D'Argo responded with a suspicious frown, as if unsure if he could believe the Human's claim. But he said nothing, returning his stare out toward the room.
He and D'Argo were friends as a matter of survival. They had gone to bat for each other so many times over the last few cycles John did not want to try to count them. They had failed each other too. If a time ever came where they did not need each other to survive, would they remain friends or go their separate ways? It was not a question John wanted to dwell on. He might not like the answer.
The curtain parted and Chiana stepped out, looking rather pleased with herself.
"We good?" John asked, hoping his voice was not as loud in reality as it sounded in his own ears. He could not wait to get out of here and clear his head.
"Better then good," Chiana tilted her head and grinned.
***
"What, you think Rygel is the only one who can negotiate?" She did not understand what the problem was or why D'Argo was getting so upset over this. They should be happy she had been able to work out such a profitable deal. After all, Chiana thought, they deserved to get something extra for all the work they were doing.
"You took an unnecessary chance. What if Bonyon had said no?"
"He didn't." Chiana almost skipped along the walkway, forcing the Luxan to make long strides in order to keep up with her. "And he would have gotten suspicious if we didn't try to haggle a little extra for ourselves. Real smugglers would have done the same."
"That's not the point."
"Then what is the point, D'Argo?" Chiana came to an abrupt halt, spinning around to face the man following her. "Are you that worried something is going to happen to Jool? Because I know you don't care what talents I might have used in my negotiation."
D'Argo's mouth hung open a fraction longer then necessary before speaking. "You've made it very clear you will do what you want regardless of how I feel about it. My only concern is that all of us get back to Moya without further incident as soon as possible."
She felt a moment of disappointment as the Luxan brushed past her and continued walking toward the spaceport and their transport pod. Chiana was still staring after him when John paused at her side.
"He still cares, you know."
Chiana darted her eyes toward the Human, but could not bring herself to look at him fully. She did not want to risk him seeing the regret etched on her face. "Yeah, well. He has a funny way of showing it." Drawing a deep breath, she plastered a smile on her lips. "What about you, old man? The Leu wearing off yet?"
"Little fuzzy around the edges but okay. We better catch up to D'Argo." John took Chiana's arm and started moving.
She nodded her agreement, but something caused her to hang back, someone in the crowd that looked familiar. She freed her arm from John's grasp. "You go on ahead. I uh, need to check on something."
John turned, reluctant to go on without her. "We're kinda in a hurry here, Pip."
"I'll just be a microt. Girl stuff." Chiana took a step backwards, hoping the growing distance would urge John to leave. "And you're in no condition to be walking the streets by yourself. You can still catch D'Argo if you're quick."
It was clear he did not want to leave her, but John relented anyway. "Okay. But keep your comm open."
Chiana watched the Human amble through the crowd of pedestrians, trying to look steadier on his feet then he was. She was not worried though, D'Argo was not too far ahead that he would not hear the commotion if John got in trouble. And the larger threat in his current condition was that he would get his pockets picked.
The person Chiana had recognized waited until she stood there alone before coming forward.
"I know you," she said in a low voice. "You're the guy from the planet. The ambush at the docking station."
"You saved my life," the Kinfea replied. "How did you know?"
Chiana chuckled, shrugging rather self-consciously. "I have experience when it comes to traps. Why was that person trying to kill you anyway?"
"Retaliation. That is why I am here now. To return the favor."
"What do you mean?"
The Kinfea scanned the crowd, appearing uncomfortable at being out in the open so long. He started to edge away, threatening to disappear into the crowds. "Gital Deep is not a safe place for mercenaries. I recommend you get on your transport and leave as soon as possible."
"We plan to, as soon as our business here is finished."
"It is that business which will kill you."
"What do you mean?" Chiana staggered as someone bumped into her, almost spilling her onto the ground. When she looked up, the Kinfea was gone. "Great," she muttered.
***
When John reached D'Argo, the Luxan was standing stock still on the ramp of the docking station. "Wassup, Big D?" The effects of the Leu smoke were finally fading, leaving him with a lingering giddiness. "You look like someone just ran over your puppy."
D'Argo turned a scathing glare on the Human. "Our transport pod is gone."
"Impossible."
"Why would I lie?"
"What? No." John started walking up and down the ramp, checking the other ships on the docking pad. "It's still here. You just forgot where we parked."
"I did not forget," D'Argo growled, folding his arms over his chest. He watched his friend search. "This is the right place."
"No, it can't be the right place because that would mean the pod was stolen. And if the pod was stolen, so were the boxes Cabmauri sent us to deliver. Which means we have nothing to give to Bonyon." John's voice began to boom, getting louder as he grew angry. "And if we have nothing to give to Bonyon, we have nothing to get Jool back with. So no, this is not. The right. Place!"
"Are you finished?" D'Argo cast a terse smile at a group of individuals passing nearby.
"No." John kicked at nothing, almost overbalancing himself as his leg swung through the air. "Now, I'm finished."
"This is the right place."
"Frell!" John walked in a tight circle, hands on his hips and watching the ground. The giddiness was turning into a dull headache, accentuated by growing stress. "Okay. Maybe someone saw something. We'll just ask around-"
"Ask around about what?" Both men looked over as Chiana joined them. "Where's the transport?"
"Temporarily missing," John grumbled. He rubbed his eyebrows, glancing back toward the spot the transport pod had been docked at, almost hoping it would magically reappear.
He missed the expression of distress that flickered over Chiana's pale features. "Oh."
"Oh what?" John asked.
"Well, he was too late then."
"He?"
"Too late for what?"
John and D'Argo spoke over each other as they moved closer to the Nebari.
"This guy I met on the planet. He just tried to warn me that something bad was going to happen." She gestured over her shoulder. "Just back there on the street. But he was too late."
"I think we need to go find your friend and see what he knows. He might have some clue as to who jacked our ride." John grabbed Chiana as he walked by, bringing her with him back into the street.
The atmosphere on the moon was thin but breathable and, John suspected, artificial. It was also thick with dust and pollutants. In order to preserve the soil of the planet, Kinfea Prime's inhabitants had moved all of their industrial facilities to Gital Deep. Raw material mined on the main world was also shipped off world for processing here. The result was a settlement that reminded John of Detroit on a still day. The landscape was suspended in night and the inhabitants traversing the streets of the station did so with an air of blue-collar revelry. Laborers and industrial workers mingled with travel weary space traders, spending the day's wage or bounty on intoxicants and entertainment. The spirits were strong and the diversions were typically lewd and violent. What little order there was, came at the end of a pulse pistol. Or by the threat of one.
Docking at Gital Deep's spaceport was easy. Legal Authority had no jurisdiction on the moon station. Cabmauri had warned them that a Council of criminal Houses regulated trade here, exerting complete control. No one would ask questions. It was hardly reassuring.
Their destination was deep within the sprawl of structures that crowded around the spaceport. Bonyon Daul operated a Leu Den, providing a narcotic drug to anyone with the currency and time to spend under the influence of induced bliss. They had no trouble finding the building. It seemed anyone they asked knew how to get there.
John was first through the door. His features were schooled to the emotional indifference common on Peacekeepers. A military stance forced his chin up, shoulders back, the pulse pistol at his side in clear sight. He had practiced this display of intimidation before and did it well, but it hung on him like a sweater two sizes two big. His appearance seemed to garner little attention from the inebriated clients of the den but he made a show of scrutinizing the place anyway.
Heavy purple smoke clung to the low ceiling, making it difficult to see the details of the room. Mellowed light filtered through glass wall sconces, briefly illuminating ornate carved beams that supported the roof. Most of the patrons lounged on couches placed conveniently in clusters around the bowl shaped Leu pipes. Transparent curtains of multicolored gauze enclosed alcoves along the walls, providing somewhat secluded areas for shy guests. Attendants moved with languid care among the sofa clusters, refilling the pipes with a powdered mineral from the small pots they carried.
John was beginning to suspect he was the most hostile creature in the place until he spotted the security guards watching discreetly from corners. They eyed him with a professional curiosity but had apparently concluded what John had hoped they would. The black leather clad Sebacean was merely a bodyguard for whoever was coming through the door next. Around here, it was not uncommon or unexpected.
John reached back to push open the door. On cue, Chiana sauntered in with her typical smug grin and velvet purrs. "Now this is what I call a party." D'Argo followed just behind her, taking a position by the door opposite John.
An attendant moved toward the Nebari, bowing low as he approached. "How may I be of service?"
Chiana tilted her head to one side, running her tongue along her lips. "You can start by telling your boss he has a visitor. Tell him Chiana is here, with regards from Cabmauri."
The attendant bowed again and turned, moving toward one of the room's other doors. As he passed, he gestured at the house security. Two of the guards stepped out from their places, making their presence and purpose more apparent as weapons were revealed.
John's hand went immediately to his pulse pistol and D'Argo began to reach over his shoulder toward his Qualta Blade. Chiana made a clicking noise with her tongue, preventing the show of force from turning into anything more then a declaration of intent. "Relax, boys. We're here on business. Not pleasure."
"Just a precaution," said a silken voice from across the room. "When mercenaries ask for me. They are most anxious to demonstrate their loyalty."
Bonyon was tall for a Kinfea and lanky, with limbs that seemed stretched beyond normal proportions. His face was also narrow with a high brow and the flesh visible beneath his priest like robes was streaked with subtle gray. He clasped his hands together and inclined his head in greeting.
Chiana turned the full force of her charm on the individual. "At least they enjoy their work." She gave a terse glance over her shoulder. "Stand down, boys. Try to display a few manners. After all, we're guests."
She was good at this John had to admit. Not that he ever doubted her ability to convincingly con their way through a successful transaction. It is why they had all agreed that Chiana should take the lead, delegating John and D'Argo as her personal security. It was not so different from the plan used at the Shadow Depository. Except then it was Zhaan as the ringleader and Aeryn beside him. He quickly pushed the memory from his mind. There was very little about it that was worth remembering anyway.
"And a lovely one at that." Bonyon nodded toward his own guards, indicating that they could retreat into their corners. "Shall we?" The man gestured toward one of the screened alcoves in the back of the den.
"Works for me."
The smoke was starting to get to John as he followed Chiana and Bonyon toward the alcove. It made his eyes sting and irritated his nose. Worse then that, his senses dulled like he was on the receiving end of a Thorazine drip. The longer he stayed here, the more John was sure he wouldn't care if Scorpius walked through the door, dragging the Aurora Chair behind him. As Chiana and Bonyon ducked into the alcove, he was glad his part required nothing more then to stand outside the curtain and keep watch.
John looked over toward D'Argo to see if the narcotic smoke was affecting him as well, but the Luxan appeared fine. It was good that someone would be able to keep their wits about them. Truth be told, there was no one in this arm of the galaxy he would rather have at his back then D'Argo.
Well, that was not entirely accurate. He would prefer Aeryn. There was symmetry to the way they worked together. Each one balanced out the other's faults to the point where they existed as one flawless entity. The smile these thoughts brought to his face was bitter and he was quick to quell it. There was no telling where Aeryn was right now or what she was doing. It was better to not think of it.
Besides, he needed to focus on the here and now if they wanted to get Jool back. He had been uncomfortable leaving her back on the planet. In many ways, the two of them were alike. Forgetting the biological similarities that Grunchlk insisted upon at the Diagnosan's facility, they shared circumstances. Both of them had been propelled from their safe, cozy lives and dropped into an environment they were unprepared to deal with. John had had longer to adapt, but he still felt like a babe in the woods most of the time. He could relate to the anxiety Jool must be feeling right now.
Although from what he had learned about her, John almost felt more sorry for Cabmauri.
"What is funny?"
John blinked toward D'Argo, unaware that he had laughed aloud. "Nothing," he said with a shake of his head. "Contact buzz. I'm cool. No worries."
D'Argo responded with a suspicious frown, as if unsure if he could believe the Human's claim. But he said nothing, returning his stare out toward the room.
He and D'Argo were friends as a matter of survival. They had gone to bat for each other so many times over the last few cycles John did not want to try to count them. They had failed each other too. If a time ever came where they did not need each other to survive, would they remain friends or go their separate ways? It was not a question John wanted to dwell on. He might not like the answer.
The curtain parted and Chiana stepped out, looking rather pleased with herself.
"We good?" John asked, hoping his voice was not as loud in reality as it sounded in his own ears. He could not wait to get out of here and clear his head.
"Better then good," Chiana tilted her head and grinned.
***
"What, you think Rygel is the only one who can negotiate?" She did not understand what the problem was or why D'Argo was getting so upset over this. They should be happy she had been able to work out such a profitable deal. After all, Chiana thought, they deserved to get something extra for all the work they were doing.
"You took an unnecessary chance. What if Bonyon had said no?"
"He didn't." Chiana almost skipped along the walkway, forcing the Luxan to make long strides in order to keep up with her. "And he would have gotten suspicious if we didn't try to haggle a little extra for ourselves. Real smugglers would have done the same."
"That's not the point."
"Then what is the point, D'Argo?" Chiana came to an abrupt halt, spinning around to face the man following her. "Are you that worried something is going to happen to Jool? Because I know you don't care what talents I might have used in my negotiation."
D'Argo's mouth hung open a fraction longer then necessary before speaking. "You've made it very clear you will do what you want regardless of how I feel about it. My only concern is that all of us get back to Moya without further incident as soon as possible."
She felt a moment of disappointment as the Luxan brushed past her and continued walking toward the spaceport and their transport pod. Chiana was still staring after him when John paused at her side.
"He still cares, you know."
Chiana darted her eyes toward the Human, but could not bring herself to look at him fully. She did not want to risk him seeing the regret etched on her face. "Yeah, well. He has a funny way of showing it." Drawing a deep breath, she plastered a smile on her lips. "What about you, old man? The Leu wearing off yet?"
"Little fuzzy around the edges but okay. We better catch up to D'Argo." John took Chiana's arm and started moving.
She nodded her agreement, but something caused her to hang back, someone in the crowd that looked familiar. She freed her arm from John's grasp. "You go on ahead. I uh, need to check on something."
John turned, reluctant to go on without her. "We're kinda in a hurry here, Pip."
"I'll just be a microt. Girl stuff." Chiana took a step backwards, hoping the growing distance would urge John to leave. "And you're in no condition to be walking the streets by yourself. You can still catch D'Argo if you're quick."
It was clear he did not want to leave her, but John relented anyway. "Okay. But keep your comm open."
Chiana watched the Human amble through the crowd of pedestrians, trying to look steadier on his feet then he was. She was not worried though, D'Argo was not too far ahead that he would not hear the commotion if John got in trouble. And the larger threat in his current condition was that he would get his pockets picked.
The person Chiana had recognized waited until she stood there alone before coming forward.
"I know you," she said in a low voice. "You're the guy from the planet. The ambush at the docking station."
"You saved my life," the Kinfea replied. "How did you know?"
Chiana chuckled, shrugging rather self-consciously. "I have experience when it comes to traps. Why was that person trying to kill you anyway?"
"Retaliation. That is why I am here now. To return the favor."
"What do you mean?"
The Kinfea scanned the crowd, appearing uncomfortable at being out in the open so long. He started to edge away, threatening to disappear into the crowds. "Gital Deep is not a safe place for mercenaries. I recommend you get on your transport and leave as soon as possible."
"We plan to, as soon as our business here is finished."
"It is that business which will kill you."
"What do you mean?" Chiana staggered as someone bumped into her, almost spilling her onto the ground. When she looked up, the Kinfea was gone. "Great," she muttered.
***
When John reached D'Argo, the Luxan was standing stock still on the ramp of the docking station. "Wassup, Big D?" The effects of the Leu smoke were finally fading, leaving him with a lingering giddiness. "You look like someone just ran over your puppy."
D'Argo turned a scathing glare on the Human. "Our transport pod is gone."
"Impossible."
"Why would I lie?"
"What? No." John started walking up and down the ramp, checking the other ships on the docking pad. "It's still here. You just forgot where we parked."
"I did not forget," D'Argo growled, folding his arms over his chest. He watched his friend search. "This is the right place."
"No, it can't be the right place because that would mean the pod was stolen. And if the pod was stolen, so were the boxes Cabmauri sent us to deliver. Which means we have nothing to give to Bonyon." John's voice began to boom, getting louder as he grew angry. "And if we have nothing to give to Bonyon, we have nothing to get Jool back with. So no, this is not. The right. Place!"
"Are you finished?" D'Argo cast a terse smile at a group of individuals passing nearby.
"No." John kicked at nothing, almost overbalancing himself as his leg swung through the air. "Now, I'm finished."
"This is the right place."
"Frell!" John walked in a tight circle, hands on his hips and watching the ground. The giddiness was turning into a dull headache, accentuated by growing stress. "Okay. Maybe someone saw something. We'll just ask around-"
"Ask around about what?" Both men looked over as Chiana joined them. "Where's the transport?"
"Temporarily missing," John grumbled. He rubbed his eyebrows, glancing back toward the spot the transport pod had been docked at, almost hoping it would magically reappear.
He missed the expression of distress that flickered over Chiana's pale features. "Oh."
"Oh what?" John asked.
"Well, he was too late then."
"He?"
"Too late for what?"
John and D'Argo spoke over each other as they moved closer to the Nebari.
"This guy I met on the planet. He just tried to warn me that something bad was going to happen." She gestured over her shoulder. "Just back there on the street. But he was too late."
"I think we need to go find your friend and see what he knows. He might have some clue as to who jacked our ride." John grabbed Chiana as he walked by, bringing her with him back into the street.