Part 28 (1/2)
Ruthless. Determined.
The Chimpect sector was solidly in Neon Red territory. No surprise that they had caught her. No surprise, too, that they couldn't keep something like her. And what Shaw said was true. Quinten was probably the only one among the cartel's even semi-regular customers that wouldn't turf them out on their ears the moment they caught sight of the cargo.
”Why would I want a Sub?” Quinten asked, idly. ”Don't you think I have enough to worry about without adding one of them to my problems?”
In the back of his mind, however, there was something strangely compelling about the deal he was being offered. If there was any person, or species, more reviled than him in Republic s.p.a.ce, with the exception of shapes.h.i.+fters, it was the Type B humanoids. Their ability to act with total implacability, their physiology-sometimes exceeding human norms-and their propensity to wreak havoc within governed s.p.a.ce, were legendary. Whenever a Sub community was found, the Republic either killed them all or s.h.i.+pped them to Bliss, depending on how much trouble they turned out to be. There was no love lost between the two groups. Only shapes.h.i.+fters were treated with equal ruthlessness.
It occurred to Quinten that the solution to his nagging problems was staring him straight in the face.
Not hearing a response, Shaw put a wheedling tone in his voice. It was his equivalent of exhibiting intellect.
”She could be useful to you.” He looked around. ”On this s.h.i.+p. Pretty big for just one person to handle.”
So, it was obvious to them too. That wasn't welcome news.
”As long as you keep her on the nerve-chain, she'll be as pa.s.sive as a lump of putty, and not likely to betray you. And if you get lonely,” Shaw shrugged, ”well, with that chain around her neck, she's not going to be too”
Quinten unlocked his harness in one movement, and vaulted over the gantry's railing, landing hard on the floor. The thick metal vibrated with the force with which he hit the deck. He had towered over Shaw by a head when he was whole, and he looked down on the pirate now from that height.
”Too what, Shaw?” he growled.
Shaw's eyes tightened and he looked away, but whether it was from the expression in Quinten's eyes, or the remnants of jagged scars that radiated from his right cheek across his entire face, didn't matter. Breit remained as still as a rodent, not drawing attention to himself. Only the Sub dared look him in the face and he was surprised to see that she was taller than he thought, the tip of her head just brus.h.i.+ng his bottom lip. Her expression was impa.s.sive, detached, as if the men were discussing something other than her life.
”I was going to say, she's not going to be too resistant,” Shaw muttered. It was a lie.
Fussy. The b.a.s.t.a.r.d was about to say, fussy.
Quinten made a show of walking around her. Probably to safeguard their own security, they had dressed her in little more than what was strictly necessary. The tight, short-sleeved suit hugged slight curves, the leggings ending above her knees. Her toes, like her fingers, were long and lean, tipped with short, colourless cuticles. Everything about her form was bland and pale, except for those huge angled, dark eyes that looked at him as if he was nothing more than an interesting biological specimen.
”We'll throw the nerve-chain in,” Shaw added. ”No charge. We reckon you'll need it.”
”And what are you asking for in return?” Quinten took a step back and c.o.c.ked his head, watching her intently.
”Captain Mestoo wants some s.h.i.+eld technology.”
”You can buy your own s.h.i.+eld technology.”
”Not like what you got. Not the stuff that can evade the military's sensors.”
”I can't evade all their sensors.”
”But you can evade more than most,” Shaw insisted.
Quinten considered the deal. The s.h.i.+elds on the Perdition were his own refinements built on a very promising kernel. Even if he traded an older version of his customised technology for the Sub, there was still the slight chance that somebody could reverse-engineer what he'd done and find a vulnerability.
He shook his head. ”Forget it.” And turned to walk away.
”Wait!”
Shaw's frantic voice stopped him in his tracks. He slowly spun around and lifted an eyebrow.
”We don't know what to do with her,” Shaw admitted with a hunched shrug. ”We don't want the entire f.u.c.king government after us just because we have her with us. It's dangerous enough as it is for the cartel. Once word gets out that we have a Sub, one that murdered some f.u.c.king gentry family with more money than sense, everybody'll be wanting a piece of us.”
”But you obviously don't mind if they have a piece of me?”
”Anyone with sense already knows to stay away from you.” Perspiration started beading on Shaw's upper lip. He was fighting for the continuance of his, and his friends, lives. If Quinten had been them, he would have shoved the Sub back into the pa.s.senger craft the moment he'd discovered her, and given her three minutes to either take off or be blown into oblivion. Human-alien hybrids were more trouble than they were worth.
”And it's much harder to just go after the Perdition than the five s.h.i.+ps that make up the cartel. None of our s.h.i.+ps are as fast as yours.” Shaw was almost begging by now. ”Give us something, Tamlan, and we'll be happy with that.”
”You shouldn't have caught her.”
”We didn't know there was a f.u.c.king Sub in that s.h.i.+p! We thought it was easy pickings for us. Looting, ransom, then a quick escape.”
Silence filled the chill of the cargo bay.
”I have two military-grade sensors in storage,” Quentin finally told them. ”Republic sourced, version five kernels. They're still working, but I upgraded my systems three years ago, and they're now obsolete.
”They're still more powerful than any of the commercial stuff that's selling nowadays,” he added, holding up a hand to forestall their objections. ”That's my deal. The two sensors for the shapes.h.i.+fter.”
He might still need replacement sensors for the repair job he knew awaited him, but the two he was trading wouldn't set him back significantly. Besides, he still had the feeling that the current malfunction was minor.
Shaw and Breit looked at each other.
”The Harness is one of the fastest s.h.i.+ps the cartel has,” Quinten told them. ”And it can't outrun a Republic striker. Help yourselves. Take the deal. Increase your chances of survival.”
”There are five s.h.i.+ps in the Neon Red,” Shaw said.
”I only have two sensors.” He waited for three heartbeats. ”If that isn't enough for you, then take the Sub back to your s.h.i.+p.” The alien s.h.i.+fted at the words, and Quinten wondered how much of the conversation she understood. ”Try selling her to someone else.”
”We did,” Breit remarked, before Shaw could stop him. ”n.o.body wanted her.”
A cruel smile lifted the edges of Quinten's mouth, made even crueller by the pull of scar tissue on the right side of his face.
”Two sensors, Shaw,” he repeated. ”That's the offer. Take it or leave it.”