Cleon Moon (4 page)

Finally, the map displayed. Alisa looked up Terra Dhwan and Terra Jhero. They both appeared to be substantial domes with cities of a million plus inside.

“Yumi, can you read the details for me? See which one sounds safer for us? And which one is less likely to charge exorbitant docking fees.” With her gaze on the landscape ahead, Alisa did not want to try to read while flying. They had come out of the wilderness and were approaching one of the domes. Everything from shuttles to helicopters to spaceships cruised about nearby.

“Jhero is owned by the Satin Scourge mafia organization,” Yumi read. “Dhwan is owned by White Dragon.”

“Uh,” Beck said from the corridor. “I know where my vote goes.”

“They’re apparently in the middle of a feud with each other,” Yumi added.

Alisa grimaced, setting a course toward Jhero. “Your Starseer allies set up in a great neighborhood, I see,” she told Abelardus.

“I highly doubt that either entity is aware of their existence,” Abelardus said. “My people may have intentionally chosen to build their residence between two warring mafia factions, assuming they would be too busy posturing at each other to notice anyone else in the nearby area.”

“Is this the only Starseer outpost on Cleon Moon?” Alisa asked.

“That I know of, yes. I checked with Lady Naidoo while we were in transit. She verified that it’s the only official outpost.”

Anticipation jittered in Alisa’s belly. If there was only one Starseer enclave, and if Durant had been on Cleon Moon, surely he would have stopped to visit his brethren, right? Maybe he would have stayed with them and told them where he was going when he left. Or maybe he hadn’t left. Maybe he was down there right now, and maybe Jelena was with him.

“What’s the purpose of the outpost?” Alisa asked.

Abelardus hesitated.

Leonidas stepped into NavCom, looming behind his seat and looking even more intimidating than usual in his crimson armor.

Abelardus sneered up at him, his expression proclaiming that he wasn’t intimidated. But he did answer her question.

“All of our installations are observation outposts,” he said, “for gathering information from local planets, moons, and stations, and for sending it back to the main temples. You saw the control room on Arkadius.”

Alisa nodded, remembering the data streaming on various monitors, displaying information relevant to the Starseers.

“This one is also a teaching center, and it’s been an orphanage in the past, where our people tried to intercept the empire and steal away children who were deemed likely to develop powers. Steal them before the empire could get their paws on them.”

Alisa bit her lip. An orphanage? A teaching center? That made it seem even more likely that it might be a place where a kidnapped girl would have been brought.

“I’m not sure what’s going on there now, since the fall of the empire,” Abelardus said, “but if my brother was—or still is—on Cleon, the Starseers here ought to know about it.”

“Good. Thank you.” Alisa did not have trouble sounding sincere with her thanks this time.

Abelardus smiled. “I told you I’d help you find her. And my offer still stands to teach her when you do.”

Alisa glanced back at Leonidas. With him kitted out in his armor, it was hard to tell if he had a reaction, but she was sure the idea of Abelardus sticking around didn’t appeal to him. After he had tricked her into kissing him, Alisa could not say that it appealed to her either.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said. “In the meantime, does anyone want to jump on the net and look for cargo in Terra Jhero that needs a ride somewhere? Leonidas has convinced me that this ship should be outfitted with weapons, and I’m looking for a legitimate way to pay for them.”

“Are you calling my fungi illegitimate, Captain?” Yumi asked.

More the drugs Yumi wanted to
make
from her fungi.

“You’re welcome to go harvest some while I look for these Starseers,” Alisa said. “I’d just prefer to stick with what I know when it comes to making money.” She didn’t want to raise Jelena in the tenebrous world of drug dealing, and now that she seemed so close, the notion that she might actually have her aboard with them both excited her and made her want to stay on the path of morally acceptable behavior. “Maybe Beck can accompany you to keep you safe,” she added, not liking the idea of their innocent science teacher wandering around on this moon by herself. “Didn’t you say that some of the mushrooms here are edible?”

“You want me to grill mushrooms, Captain?” Beck asked.

“You never know what delightful new ingredients you may be introduced to when visiting exotic locales.” Alisa pointedly did not look at the fifty-foot fungal stalks they were flying over.

“Guess I’m open to trying new culinary experiences,” Beck said.

Alisa leaned back in her seat and tried to make herself relax as they flew closer to Terra Jhero, but she couldn’t help but wonder what kind of tax collectors they might meet at the entrance to the dome.

“You and Leonidas should stay in your armor,” she said over her shoulder.

“Anticipating trouble?” Leonidas asked. Nothing in his tone suggested he objected to wearing his armor on this moon.

“It does seem to find us regularly.”

Chapter 3

Alisa guided the
Nomad
toward the translucent dome of Terra Jhero, the marshlands cleared of fungal forests for a mile in all directions. That did not keep the gray gloom of the moon from encroaching. Mists and swamps thickened the muddy ground all around the dome. A couple of raised roads led away from it, but there were few structures or signs that people lived outside of the protective walls. One exception was what appeared to be a racetrack of some kind several miles outside of the dome, with wide roads traversing the hills in concentric loops.

Beck trotted into NavCom, his boots thudding on the metal decking.

“Got something for you, Captain,” he blurted, nearly clubbing her in the head as he wedged his bulky form into the co-pilot’s seat. He had removed his helmet, but not the rest of his armor. There had not been sign of pursuit since the other ship had crashed, but just knowing the White Dragon were in another domed city only thirty miles away probably meant he would stay in his armor for the entire visit to the moon. “Cargo.” He smiled brightly.

“You seem inordinately excited about it,” Alisa said. “Are you concerned that I won’t be able to pay you if we don’t take on some freight?”

It was a valid concern, but she had not admitted it to anyone. She had stopped charging Alejandro and Yumi for passage since the Staff of Lore had been retrieved. It had not seemed right to ask for money since she was now on her own journey instead of theirs, not that any of them were asking her to go elsewhere. Abelardus seemed to have convinced Alejandro that she could lead them to young Prince Thorian. Alisa had zero interest in doing that, but if it kept Alejandro out of her hair, let him believe it. She hadn’t told him that she had no intention of letting that staff find its way into the hands of imperial loyalists. What she intended to
do
with the staff, she did not know. The
Nomad
wasn’t a secure enough place for it, but she hadn’t thought of a better one yet. Further, she would have a battle on her hands when she tried to take it from Abelardus and Alejandro. She would worry about that later, when she had Jelena back and safe.

“I wasn’t concerned about getting paid,” Beck said. “Uh, should I be?”

“I have a little money left,” Alisa said, “and if hauling freight doesn’t work out, Yumi apparently knows enough about mushrooms to guide us on how to become drug kingpins.”

“Huh, that’s not what you expect from someone who leads the meditation and prayer sessions in the mess hall every night.”

“You have to watch out for the quiet ones. They’re often the masterminds in a group.”

“Maybe so. But here, check out this cargo.” Beck held up his netdisc, the holodisplay already turned to a page full of information. “And look who’s doing the hiring,” he added, touching a hand to his chest, a starstruck expression blossoming on his face.

“Jean Pierre Leblanc?” Alisa had never heard the name.

“
Chef
Jean Pierre Leblanc. He’s got a chain of restaurants on almost all of Aldrin’s moons. He takes basic food that everyday people like, but makes it gourmet. His moonstorm burger is
amazing
. I used to beg my grandparents to take us into town every week when I was a kid so we could get one.”

“That’s right. You’re from one of these moons, aren’t you?” Alisa asked, amused by the reverence in his tone. Most people saved such adoration for vid stars and sports celebrities.

“Masa,” he said, pointing toward the sky. “It’s the second farthest of Aldrin’s moons. Lots of geothermal activity. You can farm anything that’s happy with heat and doesn’t mind how weak the suns are this far out. My grandparents have an algae bog.” He wrinkled his nose. “If you’ve ever tried to make a delicious meal with algae, you know what a losing proposition that is.”

“I imagine it doesn’t grill up well.”

Beck snorted. “It’s the main ingredient in the takka porridge they serve to miners, prisoners, and anyone else who’s pissed off the sun gods. Nutrient dense. Flavor dense, too, but not in a good way.”

“Yes, I’ve had some of the algae-based ration bars. It was all the Alliance could get in the early years of the war.”

“Disgusting isn’t a strong enough word to describe the stuff. I couldn’t wait to escape the farm. I only go back for weddings and births, and only for those of relatives I really like.”

“Have you got a lot of them?” Alisa had often wished for brothers and sisters when she had been growing up on the
Nomad
.

“Oh, yeah. We’re a fertile clan. I’ve got twelve brothers and sisters and thirty-two cousins. First cousins only, mind you. I couldn’t wait to escape to the peace and quiet of the military. But look here, Captain. The chef’s offering a real good deal for cargo hauling, and you don’t have to go far.”

“Oh?” Alisa couldn’t help but grow suspicious when people offered “real good deals” in exchange for little work.

“Looks like he—or I imagine it’s some of his people, right? I doubt he would be loitering on this drab murk-water. Anyway, his people are harvesting mushrooms this week and storing them in their refrigerated warehouse here in Jhero. If we can be available for pickup in four days, we could try to get the cargo. The chef needs them taken around to the other moons and portions of them dropped off for his restaurants. Ten moons and fourteen stops in all. We’d need to refrigerate the cargo hold, but we can do that, can’t we?”

“I imagine Mica can come up with something. The chickens might object.”

“Yumi can keep them in her cabin again. Or they can escape and roam around the ship like they prefer to do anyway.”

“Don’t remind me,” Alisa said.

“It would only take a week or so, and look. He’s offering twenty thousand tindarks. That’s stellar good money for a week’s work.”

“It is good money, especially for hauling fungi. These aren’t Yumi’s orgasmic mushrooms, are they?”

Alisa had a hard time believing restaurant mushrooms could be so valuable that the owner could afford to pay so much. Of course, based on what she had experienced so far, she did
not
have a hard time believing that hauling cargo in and out of these moons had become a challenging enough chore that freighter captains had raised their fees substantially. The system had changed a lot since the days she had traversed the freight lanes with her mother.

“Beck?” she prompted when he did not answer, his face gone distant, or perhaps thoughtful.

“Uh, sorry. You said Yumi and orgasmic and my mind went… elsewhere.”

“Uh huh. Are you sure these are legal mushrooms? I don’t want to accidentally get involved in something illicit.” She might not object to
intentionally
getting involved, if it would help her upgrade her ship, but she preferred to exhaust other options before going that route. And on the chance that she would have Jelena four days from now… she did not want to deliberately choose danger if her daughter would be on board. No, she was becoming convinced that heading back to haul freight between the Alliance core worlds would be the safe thing to do then. So long as she could figure out something to do with that staff first. And find a way to keep the Alliance from coming after her because she had Leonidas on board.

She rubbed her temple. When had her life grown so complicated?

One thing at a time. She would get Jelena and then worry about everything else.

“Says they’re for condiments for his restaurants,” Beck said. “I can’t imagine why such a successful chef would bother with illegal activities.”

“Unless his restaurants are nothing more than a cover for illegal activities.”

“Captain, if you’d
had
his moonstorm burger, you wouldn’t say such things.” Beck leaned over and laid a hand on her arm. “And this could be my chance. If he’s overseeing one of his restaurants when we deliver the cargo, I could stroll in nonchalantly, pull some of my sauce bottles out of my pockets, and casually offer him a taste. Could you imagine?”

“You pulling bottles of sauce out of your pocket? Oddly, I can imagine that.”

“What if he tried them?” Beck asked, oblivious to her sarcasm. “And
liked
them? Blessing of the Suns Trinity, my apple cider barbecue sauce would be brilliant on his burgers. What if he realizes that and wants to order some for his restaurants? He’s got dozens of restaurants. It could
make
my career, Captain.”

“Will you still protect me from thugs and brutes when you’re rich and famous, Beck?”

“Uh, maybe not indefinitely, but at first, of course I would. Do you know how expensive it is to contract a quality co-pack facility and ramp up production when you’re just getting started? But maybe I could start here, set aside a portion of the cargo hold.” Beck gazed through the hatchway, as if he was even now envisioning conveyer belts of bottles down there with robotic equipment squirting sauce into them. “I’d cut you in, of course.”