Wrath of the Void Strider (25 page)

Gavin nodded and glanced to his feet.  “Just making sure.”

Valerie lightly punched his shoulder.  With a dry laugh, she muttered, “Jerk.”

He chuckled and regarded her curiously.  “What do they feel like?”

She lowered her shirt and plucked her bra from the bed.  Deftly, she got back into it and scoffed, “Nice try.”  Plopping her arms in her lap, her gaze met Gavin’s.  Longing surged suddenly within her.  Clearing her throat, she muttered, “I, uh, need to go.”  She felt her heart racing.  “Back to my room.”

“You don’t want to know anything about me?”

“No!  I mean, I do, I just…”  Shaking her head, she muttered, “I need to go,” and she stood up.  She picked up her jacket and draped it over her arm.

Gavin got to his feet and hurried to the doorway.  He pulled it open, and Valerie stepped out into the hall.  “Thanks for trusting me with your story.”

She exhaled evenly, trying to regain her composure.  “I only told you about my tattoos.”

“That’s part of your story.”

Shifting her weight over one hip, Valerie looked upon him with a playfully defiant smile.  “That was just the prologue.”  She laughed quietly to herself. 
What is it about you?
  “Get some sleep, okay?”

“Good night, Valerie.”  His heart felt about to burst, and butterflies danced in his stomach as he looked upon her.

She waved awkwardly and nodded.  “Good night, Gavin.”

He watched her turn and go.

When she thought she was out of sight, Valerie beamed and hugged her jacket close against her chest.

Chapter 16

It was still dark outside when Zerki awoke within a cold room, dimly lit by ribbons of blue light that ran along the tops of the walls.  She was warm under a floral print comforter.  Rubbing her eyes, she tried to remember how she had gotten here. 
We had a drink, and then
…  She shook her head and slowly sat up.  Her joints ached.  Lifting the comforter, she discovered she was wearing someone else’s slip.

She studied her confines.  Across from her stood an antique dresser, and next to it hung a covered birdcage.  Her clothing was piled on a white velvet chaise lounge.

From the next room, she heard Reynold bark, “No, listen to me!”

Silently, she slipped from under the covers and crept to the doorway.

“You didn’t tell me she’d been in cryo.  None of the usual cocktails worked, and I don’t have time to get my hands on something that will.”

The person on the other end of the conversation remained calm, speaking in even tones.  She listened intently, and although she couldn’t decipher the words, she recognized the voice. 
Kanlen, you son-of-a-bitch
!

“I really don’t have that kind of time.”  His couch creaked under his weight as he shifted.  “He’s already landed, that’s why!”  A moment of silence followed, and Kanlen said something that caused Reynold to cough.  “I don’t have that much money on hand.”

Zerki gripped her arms to fend off the cold, and she leaned as close as she dared.  She could barely make out Kanlen’s voice as he suggested, “Give Ibarra the money you were going to use to pay the asset.”  The ghalloom chuckled dryly.  “
Alee
, but tell him if he wants his money, he’s going to have to kill her for it.”

“That’s unprofessional.”

“
Alee karrac
, but you don’t have much choice.  He’s here to kill her anyway, right?  So, make it a game!  Tell him there’s a bonus at stake.  It’s not like you can’t afford to pay him a little extra.  You’ll be collecting one of the biggest ellogon bounties on record for the death of Ibarra and the destruction of her starship.”  Kanlen quickly added, “
Ha karrag
, minus my fee, of course.”

Reynold exhaled as evenly as he could.  “I’ll call you when it’s done,” he grumbled, and he hung up.  The quiet popping sound of his device’s digital keyboard ticked out as Reynold composed a text message, and Zerki took that moment to slip back under the covers.  Her mind raced.

In time, Reynold got up and came into the guest room.  He sat down on the chaise lounge, knocking Zerki’s things to the floor.  Muttering to himself, he leaned over to pick them up and bumped into the birdcage on his way up.  The parakeets contained within fluttered noisily, and one of them squawked.

Zerki sat bolt upright, feigned bleary eyes, and she yawned.  Her expression gathered into an apologetic gaze as she regarded Reynold.  “Sorry, I don’t know what happened.  I think I blacked out.”  She regarded her attire and wore a look of disgust.  “Mr. Cavendish, I thought you were a gentleman!”

“That’s Sir Cavendish, and I am a gentleman,” he replied.  “That slip is my wife’s.  She dressed you, expecting you to stay the night.”  He scooped up her belongings, got to his feet and walked over to set them down before her.  “I’ll be in the next room.  We should talk business after you’re dressed.”

“We’ll see,” she curtly answered.  When he had gone, she shed the oversized slip and got back into her clothes.  She folded her gloves, placed them inside her purse and styled her hair with her fingers.  Satisfied with her appearance, she crossed through the doorway into a much larger room, where Reynold awaited her.  He sat before a square wooden table surrounded by four narrow, high backed chairs.  A red leather couch spanned the floor at his back.  The walls were alternately white or blue, depending on the wall, and a clutter of yellow recesses had been set throughout the room.  A softly luminescent globe floated high above the table.

He gestured for her to sit.  “Please.”

She took a seat across from him.  “Nice place.  Is this where you take all the women you drug?”

“Mind yourself.”

She laughed dryly.  “Mind myself?  I wake up in your wife’s underwear, and you tell me to mind myself?”

“One call,” he warned as his hand hovered over his phone, “and this meeting ends with me calling my private security force.  You disappear.”

With a mocking laugh, she barked, “Then do it.  Make the call.”

He narrowed his gaze. “You doubt my conviction?”

Zerki scoffed.  “A professional makes the call.  An amateur talks about it beforehand.”

“Do not test me.  I am no amateur!”

Shaking her head, she supposed, “You know, I think you might actually believe that, which makes you the worst kind of amateur.  You make threats to keep your business partners in line, and that tells me you’ve never made a deal this big before.  Just because you’ve spent years dealing with small timers who have dirt on you, doesn’t make you a professional, Mr. Cavendish.”

He swallowed visibly.  His voice caught in his throat for a moment.  At last, he managed, “That’s Sir Cavendish.”

“Like I said.”  Before he could reply, she stood up and leaned forward, fiercely holding his gaze.   “You drugged me and stripped me down.  Tell me what else you did.  Tell me how I got here.”

Flustered, he stammered, “The… uh, hotel staff carried you out to my sky car at my behest, and I drove you here.  Your clothes were filthy from the spilled drink—”

“Gin doesn’t stain.”

“It… I was worried that you’d damage that pretty—”

She snarled, “Last chance.  Lie to me again, and I walk.”

His shoulders sagged.  “Fine.”  Drawing a deep breath, he admitted, “I thought if you woke up like that, it might put you at a disadvantage.  Psychologically.  I can see clearly that I was wrong.”

“If you so much as touched me, I will ruin you.”

Regarding her flatly, he said, “I thought only amateurs used threats.”

“That wasn’t a threat.”

Gazing into her eyes, he felt a chill run up his spine.  Quietly clearing his throat, he whispered, “I didn’t lay a hand on you.  I told you, my wife dressed you.  That much is true.”

She sat down slowly, studying him intently.  “As soon as I get back to my starship, I’ll be running DNA scans to confirm.  Tell me what I’m going to find.”

“There’s nothing to find.”

For a moment, she gnawed on the inside of her lower lip.  “I choose to believe you—for now.  Let’s try this again.”

Reynold’s smile was nervous.  “Please.”

“I have something you want.”

“That’s correct.”  He leaned forward over his interlocked hands.

“I need to know that you understand exactly what’s on the table.”

After a moment, he answered, “Exclusive curatorial rights to all the cultural resources found within Behemothylax’s interior.”

She nodded coolly.  “Good.  But I retain full salvage rights, and that’s not open for negotiation.”

“You’re certain to make millions.”  He checked his wall clock.

With a furrowed brow, she asked, “What’s the hurry?”

“It’s late, and my wife is waiting for me to come to bed.”  He shifted his weight.

“What did I say about lying?”

“I’m not lying!”

She studied him intently.  “Maybe not, but you’re keeping something from me.”

He sank slightly.  “It’s complicated.”

“I’m losing patience with you.”  Shaking her head, she released an exasperated sigh.  “Forget it.  Let’s move on.”

He puffed his cheeks.  “Thank you.”

Zerki leaned back in her chair.  “Alright, I can show you where to find Behemothylax, but you should know that we ran into some trouble with the ellogons on the way out.  Perhaps more importantly, the ellogons ran into some trouble with something much worse.”

“What sort of trouble?”

She shrugged.  “I’m not sure.  Try to imagine Downtown Anywhere suddenly lifting off and heading for space, but underneath, it has a beam cannon that’s as large as a starship carrier.  Imagine that beam cannon scattering the ellogon warships like they were made of building blocks.”

Reynold’s eyes widened.  “That’s impossible.  That kind of firepower doesn’t exist.”

“Return with me to my hauler, and I’ll show you the footage.”

His throat bobbed visibly.  “No, I… I believe you.”  He coughed into his hand.  “This flying metropolis, is it still there?”

“I doubt it.  The ellogon fleet seemed to be their primary target, and they made short work of it.”

Reynold absently stroked his beard.  “I’m not sure it’s worth sending any of my own starships out there to find out.”

Zerki scooted back and stood up.  “It probably isn’t.”  She extended her hand.  “I’d say it’s been a pleasure meeting you, but I’d be lying.  Good evening.”

He insistently gestured with both hands for Zerki to sit.  “Slow down!  I said I wasn’t sure, not that I wasn’t interested.  Please, sit.”

Zerki eased back into her chair.

“Can you at least tell me the system?  I’d like the chance to verify your information before we continue.”

“Oh, that’s not how this works.”  She crossed her arms.  “Why are you so interested in Behemothylax, anyway?”

His pale countenance flushed slightly.  “I’m a collector, a curator of galactic wonders, if you will.”

She laughed coldly.  “Yeah, we’re done.”  With snide regard, she clapped her hands upon her knees and stood again.  “Good luck.”

Reynold slammed his massive hand on the table.  “Sit down!”  His face was bright red.  Finding his calm, he simmered, “Please, sit down.  What do my reasons matter?”

“They don’t.”  She plopped down on the chair.  “I just wanted to know if you were serious.  Sure, I’ve got other interested parties waiting for me to get back to them, but they don’t have the same passion that you do.”  She mimicked striking the table with her fist.  “Very passionate.”

His red slowly faded.  “I’m used to getting what I put my mind to.”

“I can see that.”  She smiled slightly. Plucking a pad of digital paper and a stylus from her purse, she set them down on the table.  “This is what’s going to happen.  I’m going to write down a number, and you’ll give me half now.  You’ll wire the other half to an account number that my first mate will send you in a day or two, after you’ve verified the location of the crash site.”

He nodded wordlessly and gestured toward the pad.

Zerki leaned over and set her stylus against a sheet of clear plastic paper.  After a moment, she declared, “That’s the adjusted price.”

His mouth fell open as his ruddier shades returned.  “It’s too much!”

“You drugged me.”  She regarded him darkly.

He coughed, “I don’t have that kind of money!”

“Yes, you do.  You have a hundred times that.”

“Not on hand, I don’t!”  His eyes were wide, and his breathing was becoming increasingly more ragged.  “I can’t pay this.  Not even half!”

She asked, “How close can you get?”

“I have 500,000 in my safe.”

“Wow, that’s still 250,000 short.”  Drumming her fingers on the table for a moment, she stared blankly at Reynold.  She tapped on her lower lip.  “I’ll take something as collateral until I get the rest of your payment, preferably something I can fit in my purse.  What do you have around here that’s worth that much?”

He grinned.  “Plenty!”  Rising to his feet, he said, “I’ll go get your payment.  While I’m doing that, please take the stairs down to the lower level and have a look around.  Any one of my palladium statuettes is easily worth your asking price.”

“Wonderful.  I’ll see you downstairs, then.”  She stood and found her way down to a darkened room divided by a maze of glass boxes and heavy steel display stands.  Overhead lights flickered on automatically, and across the way she spotted a door marked, “ARTIFACT RESTORATION – AUTHORIZED PERSONS ONLY.”  Quickly, she crossed the room and pushed open the door.  Inside, she found several tables and chairs, along with a vast assortment of tools.  She sifted through stiff brushes and tiny hammers.

Behind her, the stairs creaked.

She plucked a heavy, rod-shaped device from the table and hurried back to the gallery floor.  Reynold cast his gaze around the room in search of Zerki.  Upon seeing her, he held up a leather briefcase and set it down on a glass surface, where he released its latches.  He lifted it open, and she regarded the bed of Union credits contained within.  “Count it, if you like.”

“I will, but not here.”  She showed him what she had retrieved from the restoration room.  “I’ll take this in trade.”