Supergiant (Gigaparsec Book 2) (14 page)

The actual jump from the Cocytus system to Little Flowers
was among the shortest Roz had ever made. Due to the need to conserve fuel,
however, the total time port to port was nearly thirty ship days. She was
exhausted. Piloting took almost all of her waking time during the normal-space
periods. In subspace, she tried to give priority to Echo’s special project, but
Max, Jeeves, and her aunt also wanted blocks of time.

Ivy moved in with Reuben
officially.

Roz confided her personal problems
to Alyssa as they collected ingredients for Roz’s favorite cinnamon rolls. The
woman was always willing to listen. “Jeeves has become quite the chunky monkey
since I let him choose how much to eat. We’re turning that bulk into muscle,
though. He exercises with Max and me … until he gets bored and swings off. Of
course, Max can’t do the T-shaped side plank because of his wrist.”

“
Vasisthasana
. Try the
Peacock pose. It represents love.”

She didn’t want to know why her
aging aunt knew the Hindu terms for advanced yoga. “Sure, I’ll look that up.
The time with Max feels natural, like we’ve known each other for years.
Sometimes, I stretch it out because I don’t want the night to end.”

Alyssa’s smile made her eyes
sparkle. “Enjoy this time. Even his quirks will seem endearing.”

“I was thinking of making him
dinner some night this week.”

“Oh. What menu?”

“Steak and potatoes.”

“That’s your favorite,
querida
,
not his,” Alyssa said, turning on the oven. “He prefers stir-fry. It’s a
compromise between vegetarian and what he is accustomed to. He can also
substitute shrimp or fish to be closer to the Magi.”

“Do you keep a list of what
everyone aboard likes?”

“Yes. I’ll email you a copy, with
some recipes and ingredients we’ll need more of next port.”

“Thanks.” Roz added this to her
mental shopping list. Max had requested medical diagnostic and treatment
programs for Bats, in case something happened to Deke. He already had a
collection for Humans, Goats, and Saurians.

After they measured flour for a
double batch, Alyssa recited the salt for a single batch. Roz chuckled. “I
guess I didn’t get my math skills from your side of the family.”

Distracted, Alyssa said, “Your
father was the one who earned the Penrose Fellowship …” She paused for a
moment, confused.

Roz put a hand on her aunt’s.
“Brain surgery and meds have side effects. Sometimes I mix things up, too.”

The older woman bit her lip, deeply
affected by whatever memory she was reliving.

Roz pretended not to notice,
crushing nuts that were sweeter Prairie variants of the pecan.

After that, they cooked every day
for at least an hour. Though Roz had not been suited for the life of a migrant
worker, she found that she missed women gossiping around the camp stove.

Alyssa slipped up a few times in
odd ways. When Roz made her a hanging rack for her favorite pots and utensils,
Alyssa muttered, “You’re kind like your father. He gave thoughtful gifts, too.”

Roz snorted. “Are we talking about
the same Enrico Mendez?”

Her clearest memory of her father
was him yelling, “Stop daydreaming and start working. These fields won’t
harvest themselves.”

On the last night before returning
to real-space, Roz looked up the Penrose prize in the ship’s library. Only one
man on Napa had ever won it—Niels Anderson. When she clicked on the link for a
bio, she saw the bearded math professor who had proctored her test. His photo
had the same bland features and thick eyebrows that had tormented Roz in the
mirror her entire life.

I guess I know where I got my
math skills from, and why Niels gave me that extra time to fill in my test
form.

She knew her mother, Carmen, had
been pregnant when she got married, but she always thought Enrico Mendez had
been the reason. Shame filled her for a moment. Roz was illegitimate. Enrico
had raised her but had never been warm. Perhaps he had known all along. That
would explain his willingness to risk her inside the harvester. She had never
belonged. Would her biological father, the kind one, be more accepting? Could
she meet him again after this mission and find out more about who she really
was?

Roz scanned the rest of his
biography. He had founded his career on Number Theory proofs, with an
impressive list of publications. The last line gave her pause. Niels had died
three years ago. Reality kicked her in the gut. She was an orphan again,
minutes after the she had made the deduction.

The Napa news service reported him
going down in a plane crash. He had been a pilot, just like Roz! He walked away
from the wreckage, but with no air filters, the planet had killed him in a day.
Had he chosen the other direction to travel, he might have reached shelter. A
world-class genius dead at the flip of a coin.

Carmen and Alyssa had been
classmates and friends. Why hadn’t anyone told her the truth? Perhaps they were
worried Roz’s negative reaction might cause something unfortunate to befall the
messenger, as had happened with Max. She had to confront Alyssa with the truth,
but not on the ship. Roz didn’t want Echo or Ivy overhearing.

****

On her piloting shifts, Roz was stuck with Kesh on the
bridge. Max seemed afraid of her. Ivy was pissed, and her ignorant, cheated-on
boyfriend took Ivy’s side. Kesh didn’t open up for a while, but once she gave
him permission to criticize her color palette, he wouldn’t shut up with advice
about what she should wear. “For your leadership position, you should consider
a charcoal long coat. You’re muscular, but you hide everything. You should show
that off with tight clothing. Black dress stockings, to accentuate your
definition, covered by a jewel-tone shirt would suit you wonderfully. It was
all the rage on Venice a few years ago.”

“O … kay. I’m not making that my
official uniform, but I’ll try on an outfit like that when I take my aunt
shopping.” Roz considered another area where she would welcome assistance. “Do
you know anything about interior decorating?”

“My taste is legendary.”

“Could you offer me your taste
confidentially?”

“About?” The Saurian seemed
intrigued.

“Since Ivy moved out, my room is
girly but empty. I’d like to transition to a room that would be suitable for a
man and a woman together.”

“A particular man?” Kesh teased.
She smacked him playfully at the base of his tail. “May I ask you intensions
concerning my friend?”

“I’m going to sneak up on him, and
when he least expects it, I’m going to make him happy.”

Kesh grunted approval. “Max
appreciates simplicity and durability. You want to go with Earth tones,
something peaceful. A wall with tree greens. Perhaps a Zen stone fountain. No,
something silent. Furnishings should be rugged, with plenty of places to hide
weapons or information cubes. I’d recommend a fingerprint safe somewhere near
his head beside the bed—firm and king-size, with a way to flip it on its side
easily as a barrier against gunfire.”

Roz stared at the Saurian
accountant. “You’ve put a lot of thought into this.”

“Nonsense. Just thinking out loud.
I do this sort of analysis with every project.”

“Then why are you here instead of
working with Reuben and Ivy on the cargo plan?”

Kesh gestured broadly with his
hands. “One selects cargo like a stock portfolio. Think of a pyramid with the
safest and most stable commodity on bottom. Those two can handle the core
investments with references to the infobase and my oversight. I reserve my
expertise for the top 10 percent of the risky, custom, high-value cargo.”

“The ones you won’t find online, or
everyone would be doing it,” she guessed. “What are you thinking about buying
in Flowers?”

“First, we won’t convert all our
power gems immediately. We can use the replacement parts, and there’s always
someone desperate enough to trade something useful for them if we wait. I also
allocate a small percentage of the hold for mail. It buys goodwill with the
locals. Then I look at differentials. Flowers is a decent tech world only
because it’s a border planet. The next stop, Butterfly, is a low-tech fringe
world. They’ll want reliable weapons, steel, tools, but the government is
afraid. They’ll permit a small number of composite crossbows, but they won’t
allow the import of explosives. We could try to subvert that limitation by
choosing fertilizer, salt, or fish oil for the Butterfly-ians … ovians …
whatevers to make the explosives themselves. They need them to lay rails, build
roads, or clear farmland. However, I would need to locate a buyer who knows how
to do the conversion.”

“Chemical engineers on the
frontier,” Roz said. “Is this why you and Reuben were researching explosives in
the ship’s library?”

Kesh had a guilty expression. “Not
much gets by you.”

“I run a tight ship. I flagged
certain references to make sure no one would ruin all my hard work.”

“The diplomatic packages Aviar sent
with us are rigged with self-destruct charges.”

Eyes wide, Roz said, “Space them!”

“Relax,” he replied, placing a
scaly hand on her shoulder to put her back into the pilot’s chair. “When the
package picks up the proper signal from the navigation beacon in the target
system, the charge deactivates. Inside are envelopes link-addressed to the recipient
and our contacts. The first one is a real winner, Chazno. He’s a drug dealer
who cuts out the eyes of people who offend him and feeds them to his dogs.”

“Ick.”

“That’s why Max has requested you
stay aboard our ship when we dock at the refuel station.”

Roz frowned. “He doesn’t think I
can handle myself? I can lift a Bat Deke’s size with one arm.”

“You’re too valuable to risk in an
exchange like this.”

“Sweet but rather silly when I’m
the one carrying the bombs.”

“Max insisted we bury the packages
in the sand of my desert biome to keep them as far from the hull and you as
possible.”

“Always thinking about me but never
discussing things
with
me. We’re going to have to fix that. Be sure to
max us out on fuel before the delivery, in case we have to run again.” Roz
moved on to the next worry on her long list. “So why was Reuben researching
religious rebellions?”

Kesh raised a single claw.
“Non-violent popular uprisings of oppressed peoples. He wanted a selection of
Human songs to set the mood for our music sales. We want to attract our target
demographic and create a grassroots marketing swell.”

“This, I’ve got to hear.”

“I wouldn’t recommend it,” Kesh
said with a sour face. “That noise frilling hurts my ears. We’ll try out our
most likely candidates on the folk of Flowers. We’ll take a hundred kilos of
data fobs to each stop on our tour to minimize risk and keep prices high.
They’re so small and durable we can disguise them as packing foam to smuggle
past customs. We’ll start selling the fobs at 50 credits a piece.”

“But we practically picked them up
for free because the tourism board wanted people to visit Prairie.”

“And?”

“Do you know how many fobs you can
fit in a hundred kilos? They’re like two grams each. That’s fifty thousand
cheese wheels, earning us a profit of—over two million credits.”

Kesh swished his tail in amusement.
“Times ten stops, which comes to twenty-two million. That’s the beauty of
supply and demand.”

She bowed onto one knee. “You are
the cargo king.”

As a result of her bonding time with
the nominal captain of the ship, he officially named her first mate on the
ship’s paperwork. “You’re the one running this place anyway. In my absence, you
have complete authority aboard the vessel.”

This gave her a glow of
accomplishment until she wondered why. Was Kesh worried he might not return
from the underworld meeting?

Before Roz left
Sphere of Influence
, she locked the
mantle of the Enigma in Echo’s personal safe. Kesh and Reuben were selling
cheese fobs like they were going out of style. He was considering raising the
price.

The spaceport of Little Flowers was
awash with every size and color of Bat she could imagine. Deke seemed to favor
the fox-colored ladies. With the restoration of his knight status, they seemed
to be appreciating him right back.

Max’s only warning was for Roz to
steer clear of the priests in red robes. “Up close, they have the ability to
see genetic anomalies.”

“Some sort of purity police?” she
asked.

“We use the talent to keep our
children disease-free, but they might be able to detect your unusual
abilities,” Deke replied. “Be safe,”

Later, as Roz wandered the narrow
maze of streets in the marketplace, Roz felt eyes on her, like she was being
followed.
Ridiculous
, she told herself.
You’re just overreacting to
Ivy’s presence.
The family outing had turned into a girls’ day out, with
all the women on the ship traveling in a pack. Roz tried several times to send
Ivy across the street for a coffee or to the other side of the store for a
shoehorn, with no success. The spy was stuck to her like wheat on bread. Ivy
also held firmly to the ditzy secretary cover, pretending to misunderstand
blatant requests from Roz to piss off. The longer the farce continued, the more
irritated Roz became.

Perhaps Roz was merely embarrassed
by the new clingy pants Alyssa bought for her at the Moonlight Lust boutique
while the rest of them were delivering a consignment of fashion clothes and
furs. Roz had only agreed because the smart-pants came with an instruction
manual to change the pattern on the surface. It turned out that black was the
most conservative choice. “Maybe I should take these back.”

Alyssa said, “Nonsense. Kesh was
right. They flatter you.”

Ivy and the salespeople at the
latest boutique all nodded. The regal Alyssa created such a stir in stores that
the owners usually came out to assist her personally.

“I feel naked,” Roz whispered,
pulling out the tails of her uniform shirt to hang as low as possible. “At
least let me buy something practical to cover up with.”

Ivy came over with dark-gray,
knee-high boots. “Way ahead of you.”

Roz would have objected, but they
suited her perfectly. They reached her knees and included holsters where she
could keep tools. Once they were on her, the soft insides hugged her so well
she didn’t want to take them off. “Oh, yes.” She flexed the ankles
experimentally. The soles could be retrofitted with ship magnets.

By the time she noticed the price
tag, Alyssa had already run her credit stick.

“You can’t afford this much,” Roz
said.

“Please,” Alyssa said like a
duchess on a yacht. “I put a little aside for retirement, and Kesh is managing
our milk money quite well. I’m thinking of having him manage all my money.”

How can I politely discourage giving
her savings to an embezzler?

A shop girl came up with an
emerald-green blouse with a bold plus cut in the bodice. “Here’s the top you
asked about, ma’am.”

Roz’s eyes bugged. “Oh, no.”

“I told you she was too much of a
prude,” Ivy said with a sneer.

“Am not. That just leaves very
little to the imagination.”

Ivy chuckled. “I don’t know. Max
seemed to imagine a few things when he watched the Bat woman wearing this same
top.”

“Really?” Alyssa said. “Then you
must wear it for him.”

Roz felt an odd flutter. Should she
really encourage Max to stare at her?

The shop owner confided, “If the
gentleman’s voice doesn’t drop an octave when he sees you in this, I promise to
refund your money.”

Roz didn’t remember agreeing to try
it on. The store was a haze of tea, jasmine perfume, and compliments until she
was carrying an armload of shopping bags out of the store and onto the crowded,
public plaza. Self-conscious, she hugged the large bags to her front and behind
like a fan dancer.
What the hell did I just do?

As they shuffled down the street,
several unemployed male Bats offered to carry her bags for her. Roz refused
with a squeak of panic in her voice. She needed armor to hide behind. Outside a
navy surplus store, a line of destitute men waited for the store’s lunch break
to be over. Roz spotted a fireproof, military-grade, engine-room coat on one of
the derelict Bats—radiation and blaster resistant armor. Though she was taller
than its owner, the long coat would still reach her knees to obscure her recent
purchases. If she bought the personal armor from the veteran, the price would
be much lower, she wouldn’t need to wait an hour, and the money would go to a
better cause. She approached the Bat slumped against the wall in a daze. “How
much for the coat?”

Her translator AI named a value
less than a fifth what the garb was worth. She agreed and added a generous tip.
The coat smelled a little, but she felt safe when it wrapped around her.

“Bad-ass accessory,” Ivy said. “Now
you just need a hip holster and a pistol.”

Roz pretended to ignore the
gratifying comment. As she passed the veteran a handful of local bills, she
asked, “Were you an engineer?”

Showing pride for the first time,
the man parting with his coat said, “Yes, ma’am. Assistant chief engineer on a
destroyer class vessel.”

“How would you like to earn more
money carrying my bags until we return to my ship? There might be a meal in it
for you, too.”

At the mention of the word “meal,”
the Bat engineer hopped to his feet. “Iirkurdy.”

Roz smile, shook his hand, and
tried not to mangle the vowels too much as she repeated the name. Another man
at the end of the line stood up. “I am, Yenang, a plasma technician.” That was
code for weapons repairman. “I will work for the meal alone.”

Nodding her head to Alyssa, Roz
said, “Take her bags.”

Shifting the conversation to
Spanish, Alyssa said, “This is a bad idea.”

Roz overrode her concerns. “We were
once this poor. Have compassion. God honors those who give alms. Besides,
Butterfly is starving for engineers, but these men can’t afford passenger
tickets to get there.”

Grudgingly, Alyssa allowed the
charity to continue. “Perhaps … we could transport those who are willing and take
a cut of the first year’s salary from the employer.”

“We’d need rigorous background
checks before signing. These men could lead us to lots of valuable
specialists.”

Alyssa shook her head. “The ship
can’t hold many more people in the two staterooms.”

“We could transport up to eight
Bats in the cargo stasis units. Kesh can figure out how to make the scheme
pay.”

The next stop was a furniture store,
where Roz picked the sturdiest bedroom set she could find, plus biometrically
sealed metal file cabinets for nightstands. Alyssa chose the sheets, while Ivy
bounced on mattresses until she found the best one.

****

When the ladies passed a bank, Ivy said, “That reminds me. I
promised to register a legal document.” She puzzled Roz when she put a clear
mask over her features. Ivy ducked inside alone, but the others could see her
in the lobby through the windows.

Roz asked, “Is she robbing the place?”

The Bats seemed to perk up at this
comment, so Alyssa answered in Spanish to avoid eavesdroppers. “Ivy needs to
obscure her facial features so the bank cameras don’t have a record of her
visit.”

“When she enters her ident codes,
someone will suspect,” Roz countered.

“Echo gave her Magi codes. See?
She’s standing at the concierge service desk for alien dignitaries.” This
usually meant a large financial transaction.

“I know Echo can’t leave the room
with the medical chamber, but why didn’t she entrust me with the task?” Roz asked,
unable to keep the hurt out of her voice.

“Maybe it was last minute. Ivy is
the only one Echo can appear to out-of-body.”

The teller printed and stamped a
paper receipt for the transaction.

Roz blocked Ivy’s path outside. “If
this is company business, I have a right to know.”

“It was supposed to be a surprise,
but since you don’t trust me.” Ivy handed Roz the mystery document. “You’re now
officially the heir to
Sphere of Influence
.”

“Thank you,” Roz said, more stunned
than grateful.
This is real.

Four stores later, they stopped at
a Human restaurant, and Roz paid for all-you-can-eat buffet for both Bat
Sherpas. Iirkurdy balked at first. The translator AI was crude as it converted
his question. “Why are you so nice us?”

Roz paused for a moment. “Our—my
boyfriend is a soldier like you who was also discarded by the war.”

“You are
urwatchi
?” Iirkurdy
asked in dismay.

Ivy covered her snicker with a
hand. “He means ceremonially unclean, in this case an alien sleeping in the
same bed as a Bat. The purity police are pretty strict. Viruses like chicken
pox or other Herpes can jump the species barrier.”

Again, I get blamed for her
behavior.
“I’ve never—” Roz remembered sharing quarters with Echo for a
prolonged period. “Well, I’ve never slept with a
Bat
, just … you know.
And that was spiritual—stop smirking at me. You’re just as guilty as I am. I’m
glad I never used your toothbrush by mistake.”

The puzzled Bat asked Alyssa,
“These two share private space?”

Unaware of the context, the older
woman replied, “Frequently over the last year or so, which is why Ivy helped
pick the new furniture.”

Iirkurdy turned to the other Bat
and began to explain what Ivy testing the mattress had really meant.

Aghast, Roz whispered to Ivy, “Now
look what you’ve done. They think we’re
lesbians
.”

Glancing at the short hair, the
men’s jacket, and the wrench in Roz’s new boot holster, Ivy said, “I can’t
imagine where they got that idea.” When Roz opened her mouth to object, Ivy
planted a kiss on her in order to scandalize her audience. “Don’t be such a
prude. You’re shacking up with a Magi, for pity’s sake.”

****

As they finished their meal, a runner stopped Roz at the
exit. She recognized the teenager. “You delivered the furs to Moonlight Lust?”

Their profit margin on the deal hadn’t
been the only obscene thing in the store. Roz coughed. “Yes. I helped lift the
crates.”

“Owner wants more,” the runner
explained in a jerky computer voice in her earbud. “All sold out. We pay twice
previous price. Customers have stripped us bare.”

Ivy was busting a gut holding in
the laughter.

Roz really hated her today. “We’ll
call the ship and meet you at the Moonlight in a few minutes.”

“The quickest way back is to cut
through the alley to the east,” the runner said, accepting a generous tip from
Alyssa.

She met with the others at their
table and put Kesh on speaker. “Agree, but ask for a fuel surcharge. We’ll have
to make a second trip down because they under-ordered.”

Alyssa chuckled at the gouging. “He
is definitely managing my retirement fund.”

Turning off her translator, Roz
mentioned her idea for recruiting ex-soldiers for export to Butterfly.

Max complained that the cargo
stasis was never meant for sentient life.

Roz replied, “The same Magi device
inhibits all organic and electrical activity inside the box. The only
differences are the monitors, sterile environment, and another order of
magnitude on the reliability. Medical grade is guaranteed for a century of
use.” Turtles had access to the warm-blood suspended-animation technology, but
both Bats and Humans were judged too immature. Each of the fledgling races had
used their uplift gifts to hold people captive against their wills.

Eventually, Max agreed on a trial
run of eight specialists, to be chosen by Kesh and vetted by Reuben. “Many of
the soldiers have diseases, often caused by malnutrition. The government wants
to prevent them from spreading.”

Frustrated during the long
argument, Roz led her entourage through the designated alley, away from the
hubbub of the market streets. By the dim light, she saw three Bats crouched
behind dumpsters ahead, all with frayed military garb. The argument no longer
seemed important. She told the others, “Run.”

Ivy spun and ran into the Bat
blocking their escape with a machete. Rather than balk, Ivy attacked, disarming
the Bat in seconds. One of the ambushers near the Moonlight loading dock shot
her with a sonic weapon in response. Her friend collapsed on the filthy bricks,
blood trickling from her lips. She didn’t look dead, but another shot at close
range might end her. Due to size and armor, Roz was the only woman in the group
who had a chance of surviving a point-blank blast from that weapon.

The Bat with the pistol said in
perfect Banker, “I’m a poor, unemployed soldier. I have nothing to my name
except this mark-seven scrambler. Now hand over your money.”

Iirkurdy couldn’t meet her eyes.
Guess
we know who set us up.

Yenang seemed outraged. “Do you
know who this woman is?”

Her aunt turned to the Bat with the
machete and slapped him hard across the face. In the stunned silence that
followed, she said, “
La Generala
thought to buy from professionals, but
we were mistaken.”

She had handed Roz a role, one from
a famous Spanish novel,
Sombrero de Tres Picos
. She had to bluff it out
if they were going to walk out of here. At least she had to stall until the
others arrived. She touched her earpiece as if she were opening a channel. “Don
Chazno, I have more food for your dogs.”

The Bat lowered his pistol, and his
friends backed away. “W-wait. This was just a mistake. We were told to hit a
few foreign marks. We didn’t know. What were you looking to buy?”