Chapter 2

“Borovsky will arrive tomorrow and take you on with her to Pritchitt Orbital Habitat, where she’s based. You and Borovsky have to ensure Locke comes to at least one meeting about the sale. If you can put him and the weapons in the same place, we’ve nailed him.”

And what then? A court martial? A public show where everyone got to say they know those Lawrentians couldn’t be trusted? Or would he be ordered to quietly resign or retire, citing ill health? Barb wanted the truth. But she wasn’t sure she wanted the truth exposed to everyone else.

* * * *

Barb turned up at the spaceport the next day with a duffle bag and the number of the berth where she could find Borovsky in the area reserved for small commercial ships. She stepped off the tiny, automated electric tram that ran up and down the long lines of ships on the ground, without bothering with the door or with slowing the thing down. It crawled along like it had treacle in its wheels, anyway. She hopped over the guard rail and barely wobbled on the landing, though she did jar her bag from her shoulder.

The sound of someone slow-clapping as she picked up the bag made her look up. The ship she’d come to find—an unimpressive hunk of junk—stood in front of her, and, sitting beside it in a lawn chair, apparently enjoying the sunshine sat…a person who must be Borovsky. Height, age, and weight all matched the file Barb had read. But the picture in it had been quite innocuous: a late-twenties woman with mid-length brown hair, wearing a white shirt.

This person was not innocuous. She wore a tight shirt and pants, which did nothing to hide her figure. A good figure, too. She looked taller than the height recorded in her file because she wore quite enormous boots. Her hair was in one of those fashionable just-got-out-of-bed styles, and streaks of blonde and dark red enhanced the brown. Least innocuous of all, she carried a gun on her hip. It pushed the limits of the term “handgun.”

“Corolus?” Borovsky said. “Hell, why am I asking? You stink of military.”

Barb resented the idea of her stinking. And she didn’t have on her uniform. Borovsky was probably points-scoring.

“Let me check your ID,” Barb said.

“By the book, huh? Sure.”

Barb held out her pocket terminal. Borovsky swiped her fingers across it too fast. The terminal said the fingerprints were unreadable, but a second later, it showed Positive DNA match. Taisiya Borovsky

“Yes, I’m Lieutenant Corolus.” Barb offered her hand. “Good to meet you, Agent.”

“Let’s nip the ‘lieutenant’ and ‘agent’ shit in the bud right away, before you say it accidentally in front of the wrong people,” Borovsky said as she shook Barb’s hand.

“Would you prefer me to call you Borovsky or Taisiya?”

“It’s Taya to my friends. But you can use it, too. What about you? Barbara? Barbie?” Borovsky smirked.

“Barb.”

“Pointy. Okay, Barb.” Borovsky—Taya—led the way up a steep ramp, which extended from the side of the ship, and through a hatchway. “Welcome to my ship. It isn’t big enough for two people to share comfortably, so we’re shit out of luck there. Come aboard and find someplace to dump your gear.”

Finding someplace didn’t take long, since the ship was too cramped to have many places.

“Living quarters and control room up here, cargo hold and engineering section underneath,” Taya said. “Engineering section is really just the far end of the cargo hold.” She opened a hatch in the floor for Barb to check out the lower section.

Barb dropped down the ladder to it and looked around. Taya didn’t accompany her, apparently having better things to do than give her the grand tour. By the time Barb climbed back up, she found Taya in the cockpit, starting the engines. Barb slipped into the co-pilot’s seat and brought up the preflight checklist, which had nothing marked off.

“What?” Taya said, catching the look Barb flashed her. “Please, I’ve got the whole thing in my head.”

“Completion of the checklist is a legal requirement.” Barb worked her way through it, to Taya’s obvious amusement.

“Auxiliary power unit operational?”

“Auxiliary power unit happy as Larry.”

“Communications board status.”

“Green as your eyes, Babe.”

“That’s Barb.” She marked the item off the list. Ignoring any of Taya’s nonsense, Barb finished the list by the time they had takeoff clearance. The ship rose. The orange sky faded to indigo at the horizon.

“Course set and laid in for Pritchitt Orbital.” Once they reached orbit, Taya steered away from the planet. “You want coffee? I’d kill my grandmother for a cup right now.”

“Do you have decaf?”

Taya looked at her as if she’d asked for a cup of blood. “God, no. Are you mad?”

“Tea then?” Barb needed a night’s rest before they hit Pritchitt. She needed to be fresh and ready for action when they reached the rendezvous.