Rebel (25 page)

He spotted Roncas behind a table where she was serving up bowls of soup to a line of the thinnest, most ragged bunch of waifs he’d ever seen—quite a few of which weren’t female. The moment she waved at him, a cheer went up from the crowd. He made his way through the throng, receiving everything from pats on the back to kisses on his cheeks.

“Where did all these other kids come from?”

“Beats the shit outta me,” Roncas replied. “They started showing up right after I talked to you. Said they’d heard we needed help and that this was a safe place.”

Onca wasn’t sure how safe it was, but obviously stealth hadn’t been required for him to enter. He only needed to look hungry and wander in with the rest of them. “You didn’t lock the doors? I wouldn’t have thought—”

“Val spotted them out front the last time he flew in. Said we should feed them along with the others.”

“That wasn’t very smart,” Onca remarked. “They could be undercover agents trying to infiltrate our gang and uncover incriminating evidence.”

Roncas twittered. “Point out anyone who doesn’t look the part, and we’ll dunk them in the creek.”

He glanced at the smiling faces, wondering which ones the cops had sent and which were truly homeless and found he couldn’t make any distinctions. “They could’ve been paid to do this.”

“Oh, no, we weren’t,” a small boy said. “This big scaly guy told us you needed help, and that we should spread the word.”

“A big
orange
scaly guy?”

The boy nodded vigorously. “He had one of my friends with him. She said she’d been trapped in a nasty fuck house and that you helped to set her and her friends free.” He grinned, showing several gaps in his teeth. “You’re her hero.”

Onca stared at the boy, who couldn’t have been more than seven or eight—no matter what species he happened to be—and for the record, Onca wasn’t sure what species that was. With blue skin and a small tusk on the end of his snout, he looked like a cross between a Twilanan and an Edraitian. “Fuck house?”

The boy stomped his foot. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah. Just never heard it called that before.” He cleared his throat. “This orange scaly guy…did he have a name?”

“Shemlak,” the boy replied. “He said he owed you something.”

“Yeah. An apology,” Onca muttered. He glanced at Roncas. “Where’s Val?”

“Gone to get more food.”

Onca shook his head. “We might as well call the Norludians and have it delivered. Don’t suppose you’ve come up with any reporters on the client list, have you?”

Roncas stomped her foot in a reasonable imitation of the child’s indignation. “When would I have had the time?”

He frowned again as something else occurred to him. “I thought you said you had all the girls here with you. One of them obviously must’ve wound up with Shemlak.”

“Yeah. Like I had the chance to do a head count while we were under attack. I had to take their word that they were all accounted for.”

“Guess they must’ve missed one.” He looked at the boy. “Who was with Shemlak? Anyone I might know?”

Onca wouldn’t have thought a child so young would be capable of sarcasm. Clearly, he was wrong. The kid snorted loud enough that several of the others turned to stare at him. “I doubt it.”

“Try me,” Onca said. “I know more kids than you might think.”

“A Kitnock girl named Jatki.”

“Obviously Jatki exaggerated the part about being one of the slaves,” Onca muttered. “But at least we know she and Shemlak are okay. What’s your name, kid?”

“Han,” the boy replied.

“Han? That’s all? It isn’t short for something else?”

One of the other girls laughed. “Short for Handsome.”

“Really?” Onca studied the boy for a moment before deciding that, whether it was true or not, the girl had meant it as a joke. He chose not to treat it as such. “I’ve only got the one name myself. Onca.” He held out a hand. “Pleased to meet you, Han.”

Han bobbed his head. “Same here. Can I have some soup now?”

“Sure thing. Just tell me where you saw Jatki.”

He shot a surreptitious glance at the other children. “We have this place in the commerce district where we hide. Jatki knows about it. We don’t tell anyone else.”

“But the orange scaly guy was with her?”

“No. He was waiting for her a few blocks away. She told him we might be too afraid to talk if he was with her.”

Onca chuckled. “Smart girl. Do you know where she is now?”

“She said she was going to try to find more of us. Shemlak said he would stick with her.”

“Wish they’d bothered to tell
us
what they were up to,” Onca grumbled. “We’ve been worried sick about them.”

“Shemlak said he lost his comlink when he was fighting off the Herps who were chasing Jatki.”

“Makes sense—certainly more than him getting captured or stunned. He’s one tough dude.” Giving Han a pat on the head, he aimed him toward the serving line. “Thanks for the information, Han. Go ahead and have some soup. Eat all you want.”

The boy’s eyes widened, taking on a dreamy glow. “All I want? I’ve never had all I want before in my life.”

“You can now, kid. Chow down.”

Onca went over to give Roncas a hand with the serving duties. Pretty soon, the Palace was filled with the boisterous laughter of children with full stomachs—which was as good a way as any to keep the kids off the street so they couldn’t be nabbed by the bad guys.

Whoever
they
are.

Onca would’ve given a lot to be able to interrogate one of the Herps who’d chased Jatki. Unfortunately, with Jatki to protect, he doubted Shemlak had bothered to capture any of them. Pulling up a chair, he sat down at the link station in the office, hoping to glean something about the
real
perpetrators from the news article.

As luck would have it, however, Onca’s was the only name mentioned except for the Den’s owner, who reportedly resided offworld. Was that the only reason for the corruption? An absentee business owner whose employees had run amok simply because they lacked supervision? He doubted it, although the article seemed to lean in that direction—which was about the only good spin anyone could have put on the matter. The undercurrent that Onca might turn out to be the hero of the day was in there, but hadn’t been embellished upon. The fact that the girls “working” in the brothel had fled didn’t mean a damn thing. In a riot, any prudent prostitute would make herself scarce whether she was there against her will or not.

Still, a good reporter with a photographer in tow could’ve had a field day with all the empty cages. There was no way to spin
that
story without the truth coming to light.

Onca still hadn’t figured out how all these kids were going to help—except for the girls who’d been in the Den. The only thing the rest of them could say was that he’d fed them.

Perhaps the fact that they required feeding was enough to shed some light on the need for better facilities for Damenk’s orphans. Onca never dreamed there would be so many. There had to be at least a hundred or more—and he doubted more than a third of the actual number had shown up. As time passed, more trickled in, but there was still no sign of Jatki or Shemlak and no word from them, either.

When he called Rashe to report the news Han had given him, he came very close to begging Kim to come to the Palace but somehow managed to hold his tongue. The less he saw of her the better. Rashe was right. His on-again off-again attitude was bound to piss her off eventually—if it hadn’t already. Better to keep away than to mess with her mind any further.

All he had to do was to get through this mess, find Dalmet, and send Kim to Terra Minor. He didn’t have to go with her. Jack could handle the details, and Kim wasn’t a child. She could give her own account of who she was and where she came from.

And
if
she
isn’t here, I can’t smell her—or see her or taste her or hold her while she sleeps.
He tasted blood before he realized his fangs had penetrated his lower lip. He couldn’t regret rescuing Kim, but he regretted just about everything else he’d done with her. From the very beginning, he’d known that getting involved with her was wrong. He was too old for her. If he turned himself in, he would at least be spared having to face her again.

Maybe.
Then again, the case might be so open and shut, he would never serve any jail time at all. What he needed now was a good lawyer—one that hadn’t already been bought off by whoever was behind this conspiracy.

Unfortunately, the only one who flew in was Val.

“Hey, Wings,” Onca said as Val landed lightly beside him, despite being laden with several bags of groceries. “Roncas said you’d gone out for more food.”

Val nodded. “I see we have already acquired more mouths to feed.”

“Apparently Jatki and Shemlak sent them, so we know
they’re
okay—at least they were the last time any of these kids saw them.”

“I am pleased to hear it.” Val handed the bags to Roncas, whose pink skin was already tending toward purple. “We feared the worst.”

“Yeah, well, I guess you’ve seen the headlines. Think you could take a look through my files and see if you can find any reporters or lawyers?” Onca paused, frowning. “They would have to be cross-referenced against employment records or some such thing. It’s not like we ever asked anyone to list their occupation when they scheduled an appointment.”

“You astonish me,” Val said with the barest hint of a smile. “I’m surprised you don’t have their credit ratings and health records dating from birth.”

“Be nice, now,” Onca cautioned. “All we did was scan them for disease and fuck them—and tell them to register any babies with the Zetithian Birth Registry. The fees were usually paid in cash.”

Val ruffled his feathers. “Too bad yours was such a shady business. I would imagine any reporters or lawyers booked their appointments under false names. I doubt I’ll find anyone among your clients who’ll be able to help you.”

Onca let out a growl. “I hate it when you’re right.”

“You’ve got plenty of money, Boss,” Roncas said. “You could probably buy off the jury—or the judge.”

“But I’m
innocent
,” Onca protested. “I shouldn’t have to buy off anyone.”

“Well, you did rough up that Herp,” she reminded him. “They’ve got you there.”

“I didn’t lock those girls in cages, which should be the issue, not whether I let a randy Herp fuck me or not.
They’re
the guilty ones, not me.” Onca gritted his teeth in frustration. “Sure wish I knew who to trust—I mean, corruption isn’t something you can see just by looking at a person.” Onca heaved a sigh. “This could really get ugly.”

“You knew that going into this,” Val pointed out. “It is an evil business run by wicked people. You cannot expect to remain unsullied by the taint.”

Onca ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. “What my partners and I did here at the Palace wasn’t anything like that. What I saw in the Den was incomprehensible to me.” He didn’t have to ask Val’s opinion. His quivering wings said it all.

“Then we must end it.” Val glanced up at the sunlight pouring in through the open roof, triggering a dramatic pupillary response in his ice-blue eyes. “What you said about corruption isn’t entirely true. My eyesight is far more acute than that of anyone else on the planet, and my memory is superior.” His pupils dilated as he shifted his gaze back to Onca. “I can identify the police officers involved—
and
I know a good lawyer.”

***

Kim sat in Rashe’s living room, watching Tom-tom dust the furniture, feeling as though she would jump out of her skin at any moment. “This is worse than twiddling my thumbs at Onca’s house.” At least there she could have talked with Captain and perhaps learned something while she waited.

Rashe didn’t have a house computer. He only had the droid and what were essentially manual controls. Tom-tom’s repertoire of beeps and buzzes didn’t make for very stimulating conversation—although he
was
a good cook.

Ganyn had already left to go back to work at Oswalak’s, and Rashe was in the teepee with…someone. She understood their reasons for maintaining the illusion of innocence by going on with their normal routines—after all, no one had identified
them
as being involved in the “riot” at the Den. Onca was the only one who truly needed to hide, and he was essentially hiding in plain sight himself. Anyone who knew who he was would have to assume he was either at his home or at the Palace. What was odd was that no one had come looking for him—at least, not that she knew of. Surely someone would tell her if they’d heard anything.

On the other hand, there was no reason for her not to stick her nose out, was there? She was just another street urchin to anyone but the villains at the Den. No one else would know who she was if she wandered out. After all,
she
hadn’t swallowed a tracking beacon, and she didn’t necessarily have to carry a comlink. She could disguise herself as…

As what? A street walker? She reminded herself that she was in the brothel district. The air outside was laced with sex pheromones to the point that any man she passed by would see her as fair game.

Wait
a
second…

She was in the portion of the district that catered to females.
She
would be more apt to be overcome with the need for sex than the men would. But were the scents truly that specific? She thought perhaps they might be. Rashe and Onca hadn’t seemed to be affected. Then again, they had been inside the house or the speeder, not walking around outside. And Ganyn was a lizard. Pheromones that would affect mammals might not do anything to a Darconian at all.

Hmm…

Rashe would freak out if he came back in the house and found her gone. And she wasn’t about to stop by the teepee to advise him of her plans. She knew she was better off staying put, but the need to see Onca was overwhelming.

Perhaps the pheromones were affecting her after all. She was sort of…dizzy, for want of a better term. She’d never felt that way before—at least, not that she could recall. But then, she hadn’t spent any time on this end of the brothel district. She and her pals had learned long ago that they were better off in the commerce regions where food and clothing were more readily available—and more easily stolen. The subliminal advertising there had ceased to affect them long ago.

Deciding she couldn’t sit still another moment, she stood up and nearly fell back down.

Tom-tom beeped once and floated out of the room, returning a few minutes later with a delicately fluted cup filled with a hot beverage of some sort in one of his many “hands.”

“Thanks, Tom-tom,” she said, taking the cup. “I think.”

After giving it a sniff, she took a cautious sip. She had no idea what it was, but it tasted good.

Rashe stuck his head in a few minutes later. “You doing okay?” he asked. “This has got to be boring as hell for you.”

“Sort of,” she admitted. “Do you think anyone would mind if I went over to the Palace to see Cassie and Peska?” The fact that Onca was also there was such a minor detail she saw no need to mention it.

Yeah, right.

Rashe wasn’t fooled. “Onca, too?”

“Well, yeah. Onca too.”

He strolled across the room and plopped down beside her on the couch, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he was completely naked.

“Nice tattoo,” she said.

“What? Oh, yeah.” Grabbing a pillow, he used it to cover his groin. “Forgive me. I know you aren’t used to it, but I spend most of my time in the altogether.” Heaving a sigh, he leaned back against the cushions. “I need to rest for a little bit. That last one was kinda energetic.”

“You don’t schedule appointments the way Onca did, do you?”

“No. Since I don’t have a receptionist, if I’m standing outside, I’ll do anyone who wanders by.”

“How do you keep anyone else from walking in on you?”

“I have a busy sign I put up. Every now and then someone barges in on me when I’m with a client, but lots of ladies like the threesome thing, so it usually works out okay. Now, if I had
Onca
in there with me, we’d probably have women lined up halfway down the street.”

“Business at the Palace was that good?”

Rashe snorted. “Come on now, kiddo. You’ve done him, so you know the sort of chaos those dudes would cause if they weren’t seen by appointment only.”

“How do you know—?”

He snorted again. “Don’t make me laugh. You’re already hooked on him, aren’t you?”

“Hooked on him?” Kim knew he was right—whether she was willing to admit it or not.

“Sex with a Zetithian is dangerous, Kim—and he knows it. You’ll get so attached to him you won’t want anyone else.”

“And that’s a
problem
?”

Rashe didn’t answer right away but sat chewing thoughtfully on his lower lip. “Probably not.
He
thinks it is, but I’m not so sure myself. Jack somehow managed to get his conscience working overtime.” Chuckling, he added, “Never knew he
had
a conscience.”

“I almost wish he didn’t have one now.” She took a deep breath and plunged ahead. “I’d really like to, you know…keep him.”

“Interesting way of putting it.” Wrinkling his nose, he sniffed the air and glanced at her cup. “Are you sick?”