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Joat shook her head. "You already have," she pointed out.
"Word is you've fallen on interesting times," he said, and smiled. Like the rest of him, the smile was thin and vicious-looking. "As in the curse."
She raised her brows. "Word gets around fast."
"Is it true?"
She sighed. "Yeah. It's true." She smiled in her turn, tight and controlled and dangerous. "We're gonna drink the money we have left."
Something invisible relaxed in the thin man's posture. "No need. Let me buy you a round." He looked pointedly at Joseph and Alvec. "Would you guys mind placing the order? Lisha will bring ours over to us, but you'll probably prefer to drink yours at the bar."
They looked at Joat, and rose at her nod. Joat could sense their reluctance, but they were both too experienced to queer her pitch. n.o.body would want to book s.p.a.ce with a captain who couldn't command her crew; particularly not people who wanted to be sure that their cargo got to its destination without inspection.
When Al and Joseph reached the bar they leaned against it, putting their weight on their elbows as if they were completing a journey of a thousand miles and their feet hurt.
"What'll it be, gents?"
"Arrack?" Joseph asked hopefully.
The bartender shook his head. "We got gin, we got whisky, we got beer . . ."
"Earth beer?" Alvec asked straightening.
"Four kinds," the bartender named them.
Alvec slapped Joseph's arm with the back of his hand.
"Ya gotta try this stuff," he said. "You're gonna love it!"
Joseph looked skeptical but nodded.
'Two," he said. He looked briefly in Joat's direction.
"Don't worry," Alvec said. "It's nothin' she can't handle."
Joseph sighed. "Yes, no doubt you are right. Still. . ." He shook his head. Then he looked around, as though really noticing the bar for the first time.
"It is amazing," he said, "Except for the signs, this tavern could be on Bethel. It is like any number of places on the docks where I grew up."
"Yeah," Alvec sighed nostalgically. "Me too. I think they invented a place like this back on Earth, and they've been shippin' them out wholesale from the same factory ever since."
"C.O.D.?" Joat asked in disbelief. "You expect me to ship this cash on delivery?"
"Captain, smuggling is like any other business. There has to be an element of trust or nothing can happen." He smiled his thin smile again, showing a sliver of teeth. "For example, we're trusting you not to fly off somewhere and sell the cargo."
You're trusting that I know what happens to people who try to stiff the Organization, she thought. The criminal equivalent of the Better Business Bureau wasn't a formal league, but it did have a strong, working joint policy on welchers. she thought. The criminal equivalent of the Better Business Bureau wasn't a formal league, but it did have a strong, working joint policy on welchers.
"n.o.body ships interstellar C.O.D.," she said firmly. "At the very least I'll need credits up front that will pay the expense of the trip. I'm not interested in getting to Schwartztarr and finding out that this has been a joke."
He pursed his lips. "So, what would that come to?"
"Two thousand," she said firmly.
He raised his brows and laughed faintly.
"You'd better check your engines, Captain. Your fuel consumption is way way off the mark." off the mark."
"I'm going to have to bribe my way off this station. I consider that a legitimate," she smiled briefly, "expense of the trip."
"They're supposed to let you continue to operate your business so you can pay your fine."
"Yeah, and they're not supposed to fine me the value of my ship for a misdemeanor, too. Two thousand up front, my man; twenty-five thousand on delivery. I won't even consider it without."
Joseph raised his br.i.m.m.i.n.g stein to his nose and sniffed dubiously.
"It smells like meat," he said.
"Meat!" Alvec sniffed his. "Mine's okay. Whaddaya mean, it smells like meat?"
"To me," Joseph explained, "this 'beer' smells like raw meat."
Alvec looked at him.
"Yeah, well," he grinned, "I can't wait to have a steak on your world."
Joseph took a tentative sip and smiled.
"You shall have one of the best when you visit my rancho," he promised, "if "if you will bring the beer." you will bring the beer."
He was raising his still br.i.m.m.i.n.g stein to touch gla.s.ses with Alvec when a shabby fellow in a once-yellow ship suit elbowed him aside; beer slopped over Joseph's sleeve and down the front of his robe. He set the remainder down and wiped the fabric with a napkin. The s.p.a.cer ignored him . . . until he poked a rigid finger into the man's shoulder.
"That," he said, "was clumsy."
The s.p.a.cer turned to him; when he spoke it was with a strong accent, wheezing and sharp. "Donchu touch me you b.a.s.t.a.r.d son of a wh.o.r.e!"
Ooops. Alvec thought. Joat had told him a little about Bethel, and he'd accessed more from the Alvec thought. Joat had told him a little about Bethel, and he'd accessed more from the Wyal' Wyal's database. That was not a good thing to say to a Bethelite; especially in Josephs case, because it might well be literally true.
The bearded man handed Joat a credit chip and a blue datahedron.
"The information is protected by a very nasty virus, so I warn you, don't try to access it or you may find yourself drifting in hyper-s.p.a.ce until you become a ghost story."
She smiled. "Smuggling is like any other business, there has to be an element of trust or nothing can happen."
He leaned his head to one side in acknowledgment, then looked over sharply to the bar.
Thwuck.
She had never seen Joseph look quite like that. that. His face was pale, with paler circles around his wide blue eyes. He was holding a s.p.a.cer in a yellow suit with one arm twisted up behind his back. Blood ran down the man's face from a broken nose. His face was pale, with paler circles around his wide blue eyes. He was holding a s.p.a.cer in a yellow suit with one arm twisted up behind his back. Blood ran down the man's face from a broken nose.
"Apologize, you furrower of pigs," the Bethelite said quietly, in a voice that carried. "For the insult you gave my mother."
"Fardle you and and your mother, like your pig daddy!" your mother, like your pig daddy!"
"That was unwise."
Joseph's other hand gripped the s.p.a.cer by the back of the neck and slammed his face into the gla.s.steel surface of the bar again. Thwuck. Thwuck. This time something else broke. This time something else broke.
Joat started to rise; that was not not like Joseph. She also started to shout a warning, as another s.p.a.cer in a yellow shipsuit rose with a chair in her hands. Alvec moved before she could speak, a quick s.n.a.t.c.h for the chair and a short chopping punch to the stomach-much less hard than he could have dealt, because the s.p.a.cer simply staggered back clutching her gut rather than collapsing. The bartender had ducked down; he rose again, with a short bell-mouthed weapon in his hands. like Joseph. She also started to shout a warning, as another s.p.a.cer in a yellow shipsuit rose with a chair in her hands. Alvec moved before she could speak, a quick s.n.a.t.c.h for the chair and a short chopping punch to the stomach-much less hard than he could have dealt, because the s.p.a.cer simply staggered back clutching her gut rather than collapsing. The bartender had ducked down; he rose again, with a short bell-mouthed weapon in his hands.
Sonic riot gun, Joat thought, as she prudently dropped flat. That didn't block her view of a beer stein sailing through the air and thunking with solid authority between the barkeepers eyes. He fell backward, and this time stayed down. Joat thought, as she prudently dropped flat. That didn't block her view of a beer stein sailing through the air and thunking with solid authority between the barkeepers eyes. He fell backward, and this time stayed down.
Her new business acquaintance had vanished silently. Good idea, Good idea, Joat thought, crawling towards the bar. Joat thought, crawling towards the bar. Good idea, prudent idea. Good idea, prudent idea. The tables were bolted to the floor, providing reasonably safe pa.s.sage to the thick of things; bodies and pieces of furniture sailed through the air above, and grappling pairs dropped down to her level but couldn't roll past the table legs. The tables were bolted to the floor, providing reasonably safe pa.s.sage to the thick of things; bodies and pieces of furniture sailed through the air above, and grappling pairs dropped down to her level but couldn't roll past the table legs.
Joat encountered the waitress under one of them, just lighting up the stub of a dream-smoke stick and looking mildly entertained.
"I like the little blond one," she said to Joat, blowing a stream of smoke towards Joseph.
The Bethelite had just kicked a tall humanoid in the crotch, seized his head under one elbow as he bent over-evidently a vulnerable spot in that species, too- and was energetically punching him in the face.
"I got a thing for guys with muscles," the waitress went on. Alvec picked up another yellow-suited s.p.a.cer and threw him in the direction of the door, clearing a pathway.
"He's married," Joat told her.
"So?"
"Uh," Joat shrugged, "whatever. Have you called Station Security?"
"Oh sure. We got a b.u.t.ton under the bar, they'll be here in a couple a minutes." She drew deeply on her dream-smoke stick and offered it to Joat.
Joat shook her head. "No, thanks. I'd better be going."
She crawled under the next table and found herself beside Joseph and Alvec. Joat leaned out and grabbed their sleeves to get their attention.
"We're leaving. Now. Out the back."
"Aw, Joat-" Alvec began.
Another s.p.a.cer was struggling with a stationer just behind him; the stationer staggered away, clutching at an arm. The s.p.a.cer waved a long blade and shouted something blurred, lunging wild-eyed for Alvec's back. Joat and Joseph moved with the perfect coordination of dancers; Joat grabbed handfuls of cloth at wrist and shoulder and pulled the attacker forward, redirecting his force and hip-checking him into a sideways stagger. Joseph whirled aside like a matador as the lunge was thrown his way, stepping inside the curve of the outstretched arm and driving the stiffened fingers of one hand up under the s.p.a.cers ribs.
The figure in yellow collapsed, wheezing, and curled into a ball. Joseph toed the knife up against the bra.s.s rail and broke it with a quick stamp of his heel.
"Yeah, I see what you mean," Alvec said. "Funs fun, but knives are cheating. Let's go, Cap'n."
Joat picked up a pseudosilver tray; Alvec picked up a chair and pulled it apart, like tearing the wings off a chicken. That left him with two lengths of gleaming alloy. Joseph walked between them; a knife of his own appeared in one hand, curved and looking sharp enough to cut light. They put their backs together and moved in a rotating circle towards the doors at the rear of the bar, through a kitchen that made Joat glad she hadn't ordered any food, and then through a hatch marked danger danger into an access corridor. into an access corridor.
The lights blinked. "Station Security," "Station Security," a voice said, vibrating through the metal of the circular corridor. a voice said, vibrating through the metal of the circular corridor. "All wrongdoers will cease disturbing the peace and submit to arrest. Station Security "All wrongdoers will cease disturbing the peace and submit to arrest. Station Security-"
"This way," she gasped.
The access door three s.p.a.ces down was dogged shut, and she fumbled in her jumpsuit for the picklock. It hung beeping for a nerve-wracking twelve seconds, and then the hatchway hissed open and they tumbled through into a dark and narrow corridor smelling of greasy food and dirty rest rooms. A weedy youth pushing a floater full of dirty plates and gla.s.ses stopped and gaped at them, his eyes going wide, and paled at the sight of the weapons.
Joat tossed her tray onto the floater. Behind her she heard a clank as Alvec dropped his chair-legs; Josephs knife had never made any noise, coming out of the hidden sheath or going back in.
"You never saw us," she said, tucking a half-credit piece into the pocket of a stained white ap.r.o.n.
The chinless face smirked. "Saw who?" he said, and pushed the floater on through a door whose lying stencil read sanitation. sanitation.
"You two go clean up," she snapped, looking at their grazed, b.l.o.o.d.y faces. "I'll get us a table, and we'll make innocent. Just Just what I needed, arrest on a breaking-the-peace charge with stolen goods on me!" what I needed, arrest on a breaking-the-peace charge with stolen goods on me!"
She pushed through an opaque forcefield door; it was maladjusted, and the harmonics set her teeth on edge. There was a corner table by the wall-window free; it gave an excellent view of Rimrunners patrons being dragged out of the premises next door by helmeted Station Security police in light-impact armor. Shockrods snapped amid shrieks and curses; brawlers were lifted and tossed bodily onto the flat-body back of the Black Mariah, where a tanglefield held them in uncomfortable stasis, just as they fell. One of the police was sitting on the pavement with a compress on his flattened nose.
"Hid deb one for be!" he called. A comrade boosted his captive onto the flatbed with an enthusiastic boot.
Joat looked up as the two men returned, and jerked a tight-lipped nod towards the scene.
"I-" Joseph began. Then he looked down at his hands, opening them and closing them once. "He should not have insulted my mother . . ." He looked up. "And there has been no news of the Benisur Amos for more than three weeks. He is my Prophet, my brother, my friend . . . and I have failed him."
Joat sighed and let her shoulders relax. "Okay."
It was Joseph who'd taught her to keep her emotions out of business, though. n.o.body's perfect. I guess learning that's part of growing up. n.o.body's perfect. I guess learning that's part of growing up. Even Simeon lost it sometimes, and he Even Simeon lost it sometimes, and he could could control his emotions, literally, by regulating the endocrine feeds to the body inside his Sh.e.l.l. control his emotions, literally, by regulating the endocrine feeds to the body inside his Sh.e.l.l.
"You are right, Joat," Joseph admitted. "It was foolish of me and it will not happen again, you have my word."
"Mine too, Boss."
She sighed. "Thank you. And you're right, no harm came of it. Except for your bruises." And I hope they hurt! And I hope they hurt! she thought. she thought.
She reached over and gripped Joseph's hand. "I realize you're under pressure, Joe. Sorry I snapped at you."
"Hey, Boss, what about me?"
Joat looked at Alvec out of the corner of her eyes and growled softly.
"Yeah," he said, "that's kinda what I figured."
She stood. "Let's go, I want to hustle up a cargo if I can. It won't look good if we leave with an empty hold."