Rebels and Lovers (14 page)

“Yes.”

“You have an open-ended reservation. Looking to relocate to Dock Five?” The tone of her voice said she clearly knew no one from Aldan Prime would do that.

“I had some personal business with no definite timetable.”

The striper poked at her reader again. “You and your family are free to go. Sorry for the inconvenience.” She focused on Kaidee. “Your ID?”

“Griggs, captain of the
Void Rider,”
Kaidee said, as she reached under her jacket and pulled her ID chip’s small case from the upper left pocket of her flight suit. A false ID would be nice, but she didn’t have that kind of talent or money. “I have ID and my CFTC chip.” Many stripers had a lenient attitude toward CalRis Free-Trader captains because of a long-standing practice of “free samples”—that was really what the
free
in
Free-Trader
stood for, Dock Fivers always said—that made their way from freighter holds to stripers’ hands. But there were always those who looked down upon the practice—or felt their free samples were never large enough or often enough.

The striper accepted the case, then studied Kaidee’s data on her reader. “You’re not rated to transport passengers, Captain.”

“I know,” Kaidee said. “I—”

But the striper was glancing to her left, frowning. “Mr. Barvin, I said you’re free to go.”

Devin had moved only a few steps away and stopped. Barthol, leaning heavily on Trip, waited behind him. “I just want to make sure there are no problems.”

“You’re a registered guest—”

“Problems with the captain,” Devin continued smoothly over the striper’s explanation.

The woman’s frown deepened. “If she offered you passage off station, yeah, there is a problem. Because she’s not rated for that.”

“I didn’t—” Kaidee began, but this time Devin cut her off.

“She offered us a way out of a bar fight where my elderly uncle was about to get his head bashed in or worse. We’re grateful—enough that I’m concerned with what appears to be a misinterpretation on your part over Captain Griggs’s role.”

He should have been a professor. Or a barrister, Kaidee thought. Granted, Devin was taller than the striper, but he wasn’t using his lean height so much as his voice and his gaze. Steely-eyed? She almost laughed. She’d been watching too many of those low-budget action vids Kiler had loaded into the
Rider’s
library.

Except those vid heroes never wore silver-rimmed eyeglasses. Or spoke with a cultured Sylvadae accent that clearly didn’t belong on Dock Five. Or belong with her. And the sooner he made that clear to the striper, the better off he’d be.

“Maybe you don’t understand what we got here on dock,” the striper replied. The woman reset Kaidee’s chip into the ID case, then tossed it to her. She turned back to Devin. “We got a lot of freighters on lockdown and a lot of captains who would easily risk a
misinterpretation
,” and she stressed the word, barely concealing a sneer, “to get back in the lanes. Including lying about what they were rated to carry.”

Kaidee bristled. Not that she hadn’t thought about it. “I didn’t—”

“Especially,” the Takan female spoke out, her voice
carrying to where Kaidee stood, “when they have a lock lien on their ship from Z. M. Orvis.” She leaned back from her deskscreen and, with a satisfied grin on her thin lips, crossed her arms over her chest. Gustav, still perched on the desk’s edge, continued to study the screen. “In the amount of twenty-five thousand,” he added without looking up.

“Thirteen thousand,” Kaidee said quickly. Too quickly.
Shit. Next time you open your mouth, make sure your brain is in gear first
. She’d just aired her financial dirty laundry, not only to the striper but to Devin Guthrie.

She had no idea how or why the Taka had pulled up that information on her, but then, this was the hotel’s supply office. It wasn’t unlikely they’d have access to ship schedules, manifests, and, yes, financial status, which could affect a freighter’s ability to deliver contracted goods. Or else—her luck—this Taka was the sister of the one Frinks had tailing her.

“Thirteen thousand,” Kaidee repeated. “I’ve paid it down.” She found Devin staring at her, eyes narrowed behind the clear lenses of his glasses. And her mind, with disgusting clarity, filled in the gaps: Makaiden Griggs had a lock lien on her ship and was found in the company of a missing Guthrie heir. Extortion, anyone?

Slagging wonderful. But she couldn’t say anything to Devin without giving away who he was—something the striper and the Takan shipping clerk would no doubt find even more interesting. And damning.

“Look, Mr. De—Barvin. I’ll get this all straightened out on my own. Okay? You’re guests here. You’re safe.” She shrugged. She was rambling. She wanted them to leave. If the Taka had uncovered the lock lien, there was no telling what else she might dig up. Stuff
on Kiler. Stuff on Makaiden before the Griggs surname granted her what she thought was safety and legitimacy.

None of this was Devin’s, Trip’s, or Barthol’s problem.

Go away. Leave
.

Her telepathic prodding failed. Devin didn’t move, and Trip was frowning. Did the kid think she meant to use him? That hurt almost as much as the coldness in Devin’s eyes. Only Barty seemed unconcerned, but then, he was playing elderly and infirm.

“Stay put, Captain Griggs,” the striper said as she walked over to the Taka’s desk. Hand on one hip, she stared at the screen. The Taka said something in a low voice that Kaidee couldn’t hear. The striper nodded. Gustav nodded.

Kaidee glanced over her shoulder.
Go
, she mouthed to Trip, because he was the only one looking at her.

Then Barty sighed a pained, wheezing noise. “I do think it’s time for my nap. This is a bit more excitement than I’m used to.”

That seemed to accomplish what neither the striper’s assurances or Kaidee’s mental pleadings could. Devin and Trip turned to Barthol.

“Of course,” Devin said. “Uncle.” He put one hand under Barthol’s elbow. “Officer, if you need a statement from us, leave word at the front desk.”

So that was it, then. She was on her own. “Good luck, gentlemen,” she called after them, as if they really were strangers, people thrown together by happenstance: a bar fight, a chance proximity of their table and hers. Not as if she was someone who’d been in their employ for several years, who’d shared meals, laughter, shopping excursions …

That was a different lifetime. A different Kaidee.

This Kaidee’s life was in shambles. She imagined Devin was now very glad that Captain Makaiden Griggs was no longer in GGS employ.

She turned back to the trio at the deskscreen, ignoring the retreating steps of the trio behind her, the scrape of a hatchlock door. Then the sounds faded. Her sadness over losing Devin’s respect flared to anger, adding a sharp note to her words. “I wasn’t trolling for passengers.”

The striper shot a quick glance at the closed hatch door, eyes narrowed, then back at Kaidee. “I have witnesses here,” she said, “who say you were.” She took a step toward Kaidee, hands on both hips now, chin lifted in defiance.

What in hell?
“You have no proof of that.”

“We have plenty.” The striper looked over her shoulder at the Taka. “Let her hear it, Norga.”

The Taka tapped at the deskscreen.

“If she offered you passage off station, yeah,” the female striper’s voice said clearly through the unit’s speakers, “there is a problem. Because she’s not rated for that.”

“She offered.” That was Devin’s voice. “Yes.”

A chill raced down Kaidee’s spine and settled, hard, in the pit of her stomach. Norga had been doing more than researching her ship’s status on her deskscreen.

“This young lady said she could get us out. Me and my nephews,” Barty’s voice said.

Then from Devin: “Officer, if you need a statement from us, leave word at the front desk.”

The striper’s smile was slow, confident, and damning.

Kaidee met her gaze without flinching. “What do you want?” Her voice was deliberately flat. Inside, she was screaming, kicking over the Taka’s desk, pounding
smarmy red-haired Gustav to a pulp, and smashing the deskscreen over the striper’s head.

The smirk widened to a smile. “What do you think? Nice, law-abiding captains don’t go around owing money to the likes of Orvis. Even before Norga found that info, you gave yourself away with those hatch codes. That guy from Aldan, what is he? A new buyer? He sure wasn’t happy to find out about the lock lien, was he?”

“What,” Kaidee repeated, “do you want?”

“That ship of yours is a sweet Blackfire. Fast. Probably got some even sweeter modifications.”

Gustav snorted out a laugh at the striper’s words.

“Or you wouldn’t even be working for Orvis,” the striper continued.

I’m not working for Orvis
, she almost said but stopped. One, she knew the woman wouldn’t believe her, and, two, if the striper or Norga dug deep enough into their obviously less-than-legal databases, they’d find proof that, yes, at one time the
Void Rider
did have ties to Orvis’s pirate enterprise.

Kiler’s death severed that connection but not the debt.

“If you think I’m going to turn my ship over to you rather than face charges of illegal passenger transport, I’ll take my chances with the latter,” Kaidee said.

“No, no, you got it all wrong!” The striper chuckled. “I don’t want your ship, Captain Griggs. We’re here”—and she flashed a quick look at Norga and Gustav—“to offer you our special services.
Protection.”
She stressed the word. “You know how it works. We’ll keep your little secret, keep the authorities from hassling you so you can continue your, uh, lucrative business. All we want in return is a small fee. Say, four thousand a month.”

It was a shakedown. No wonder the striper hung out at Norga’s desk. Just like Pops, Norga had the data on ships docking here. The striper had the muscle. Kaidee wondered how many other captains were already paying a “protection fee” based on words gleaned from ordinary conversations in Norga’s office, then twisted into incriminating statements.

She also wondered if the CFTC knew about this. Or, not unlikely, was in on it.

“And if I say no?”

The woman’s eyes went hard and cold. “Then illegal-passenger-transport charges will only be the beginning. Trust me on that.”

“We’ll keep your little secret, keep the authorities from hassling you so you can continue your, uh, lucrative business.” The striper’s voice, sounding a bit hollow, echoed into the room, and not from Norga’s deskscreen. Kaidee jerked around, looking for the source. So did the striper, Norga, and Gustav.

The hatchlock to the old access tunnel swung open. Devin Guthrie crouched on its edge, microcomp in his left, Carver in his right. Shock surged through her. Why had he come back? Surely not for her sake.

“Two can play at this game, Officer.” His voice was light, but he wasn’t smiling.

“All we want in return is a small fee. Say, four thousand a month,” the woman’s voice continued, but from a different direction.

Kaidee spun. Barthol stood in the main hatchlock to the hotel corridor, also with a microcomp and a Carver. “I would advise against any sudden movements,” he said, all traces of age and infirmity gone from his voice and stance.

Devin’s boots hit the decking. “Back away. Over there.” He waved his weapon at Norga and Gustav.
“Now.” He clipped his Rada back onto his belt as he took the seat Norga vacated.

Barty moved toward Kaidee. “Captain Griggs, I could use your assistance.”

She was already reaching for her L7. “Gladly.” She didn’t know why Devin and Barty had returned, but she was damned glad they did.

“Hands out, turn, face the wall,” Barty ordered.

The trio grumbled but complied.

Barthol pulled the striper’s pistol from its holster and then tossed it across the decking toward Devin.

Out of the corner of her eye, Kaidee watched the weapon skim the floor. She could see Devin’s Carver on the desk, his focus and fingers on the deskscreen as he altered or erased whatever data Norga had on Kaidee and, possibly, others. The Guthries were known to be generous, but she wasn’t sure how far their generosity extended in this situation or how long it would extend to her. She knew what Devin had heard; she could guess at what he was thinking. That made her consider for a moment why he was even helping her. But then, she’d been associated with GGS. Scandal of any sort—especially with Philip Guthrie’s current renegade status—wasn’t something GGS wanted.

Suddenly the striper dropped down, swinging out with one leg, her boot making contact with Barty’s ankle. He stumbled, falling backward. Kaidee fired, her shot hitting the striper in the hip. Not center mass—not enough to fully stun the officer—but enough to put her flat on the decking, her eyes blinking rapidly as her body went limp.

Barty rolled onto his back, Carver gripped with both hands. “Freeze!”

Norga froze. Gustav bolted, throwing himself at Devin as Devin turned in the desk chair. They crashed
against the desk, grunting, swearing, the chair’s deck lock keeping it and them upright. Kaidee took aim, but there was too much movement for her to get a clear shot. Devin grabbed Gustav’s shoulders. Gustav shoved him back. Coffee mugs flew, spattering liquid. A basket of datatabs upended, clattering as they hit the sides of the desk, then the decking. Gustav tried to pin Devin against the desktop, but Devin swung at him, his fist catching Gustav’s left ear with a smack. Gustav fell sideways against the desk, then sprang just as Barty fired. Barty’s shot grazed the desk where Gustav had been a second before.

Someone shifted in Kaidee’s peripheral vision. She switched her aim from the struggle at the desk to Norga. The tall Taka held still, all but radiating with intensity. The striper near Norga’s boots groaned, swearing, but her limbs were motionless—at least until the effects of the stunner wore off.

Which could be any second now.

Oh, hell
. Kaidee flicked her stunner to full charge and fired again at the striper, catching her center mass this time. Then, before Norga could react, she hit the Taka with a blast in the chest. The Taka collapsed next to the unconscious striper.