26
Even a decade of military jargon and naval technical manuals did not prepare Molly for the convoluted abuse of the English language she held in her hands. She gave Edison’s immeasurable IQ a chance, but it was even worse for him. His need for absolutes in communication recoiled from the lawyerly phrasings. Each sentence could mean three or four things when read individually; taken together, they had all the potential of a chess game prior to the first move. His advice was to burn them, not sign them.
She considered giving Walter a chance, he hailed from a planet of devious barterers, but the boy was too distracted by their new guest. He kept sizing Albert up like a direct competitor, but he also wore something of a leer, an expression Molly often saw him direct toward her. Other than his video game and loot, she’d never known anything to fascinate him so.
Albert must’ve noticed the way Molly was staring off into space. “You seem confused by the contracts,” he said, “but I assure you they’re standard fare. We use them all the time. It just means you and I will do all of our business together. If you need something I don’t have, I’ll ask around—no need for you to go elsewhere. It’s all about making this process easy on the customer.”
Molly laid the contracts in her lap and leaned back against the bulkhead. “Easy on the customer? Are we even customers? I’ll tell you what’s confusing me, and it isn’t these contracts: it’s you. And this place. What in hyperspace just happened? We jumped into an L3, found a ring of rock instead, got pounced on by a fleet of suitors, then you practically mated with my ship without even buying her flowers.” She picked up the contracts and waved them at Albert. “And now you wanna get married?”
Cole covered his mouth and stifled a laugh.
Albert beamed. “Well that explains your odd behavior! And quite nicely, as well. Your charts are a tad out of date, I must say. Not very safe, as you’ve just learned. No worries, I also have the latest star charts, several versions in fact, from the survey efforts of three major races. For a special price, we can load the trio into your ship’s computer! My goodness, you sure are lucky to have found me. One of the first things you’ll learn about Darrin from the Bel Tra charts and reports—and I’m giving this information to you at no charge, even without those contracts signed, just to show you what sort of man I am—is that the war between Darrin the First and Darrin the Second in the year 2402, a very somber year for us, did not go well for either side. The belt you flew into is all that remains of Darrin the First, and they didn’t get the worst of it. Darrin the Second is in smaller pieces. Not to brag, but much smaller. They lie scattered beyond our far more sensible orbit.” He wrapped his arms around his chest and shivered for effect.
“I kid, of course. We’ve set those differences aside and now all the people of Darrin get along famously. We’ve had peace for seven years straight! Not a shot fired. Well, pretty much. Besides, the few of us that deserve to make a profit have found it more lucrative if we compete on an individual level, rather than banding together and squeezing as a unit. Things get out of control that other way. It’s really a shame we didn’t think of it earlier, but what’s done is done and business is finally getting back to some of the pre-war levels.” He frowned, then added in a somber voice, “After accounting for changes in population and per-capita GDP.”
“You people blew each other’s planets to bits?!” Cole had gone from covering his mirth to controlling his outrage.
Albert recoiled from the outburst and looked sad, but only for a moment. He beamed once again and boasted to all four of them, “You want the best starship armaments in the galaxy? You obviously came to the right place!” He gestured toward the contracts, still smiling. “Now, please sign away before we arrive at my store. We must do these things properly or my impeccable reputation for fair-dealing could suffer. Nothing you sign there mandates a minimum purchase amount, and frankly if your budget is reflected by the ship’s condition—well, please understand that I’m used to dealing with a more demanding clientele and will consider our transactions over the next several days as a favor to you in the hopes you’ll always return to me when you need a good deal.”
Albert spread his arms and gazed hungrily at the papers. “But of course you will. It’s all there in the contracts, after all.” He smiled at each of them as if they were the only people in the universe.
????
Signing the contracts put Molly in a bad mood. She despised being forced to do anything. Even if it was something she’d been planning on doing already. They’d come to Darrin to make illicit improvements on a starship, so they expected to put up with shady arms dealers on back-moon shipyards. But having someone force her to do the exact same thing made her want to resist. The urge was as infuriating as it was nonsensical. She would’ve been happier if the escape from the asteroid belt had been met with laser-fire. At least then she’d be dealing with a threat she understood.
Albert pitched products while the two mated ships cruised back to his shop, seemingly on autopilot. These “feeding frenzies” were reserved for new clients, he assured them. Brutal markets meant each customer had to be “won over.” The little scuffle between Darrin I and Darrin II had decreased supply somewhat, but the demand had shot down even faster. The word was not completely out that the system had returned to business-as-usual, and Parsona’s unwise entry demonstrated another unfortunate reality: the buyers of their astral charts were probably disappearing from the market altogether. Literally.
“Once we get my charts installed and register your ship as one of my exclusive clients, you’ll be able to come and go as you please,” Albert told Molly. She forced a smile and considered telling him how unlikely a return to Darrin would be.
A beeping sound interrupted the discussion and Albert pulled something from his belt, a small black device with just a single-line LCD display. He held the gadget up and squinted intently at the readout. “We’re about to land,” he announced to the room. He flapped back one side of his suit jacket and struggled to thrust his pelvis away from the seat before securing the device back to his belt. With a satisfied grunt, he pushed himself up, collected the contracts with a grin and a wink, and busied himself arranging them in his briefcase.
“Not many of these old GN-290s around, are there?” He smiled at Molly, his face completely innocent.
A chill spread through her limbs, her palms moistened and began to cool. What in the galaxy did he mean by that? Did he know who they were? Was there a bounty out on the ship? She shot Cole a glance. His arms were folded across his wide chest, his face frozen in a glower.
“It was a few design flaws that did this model in,” he said. “Putting the cargo bay on the starboard side with the airlock, for instance. Horrible idea. Can’t open both at once. We’ll leave the ships docked so you don’t have to land her, but that means you’ll have to pass through my baby to enter the shop. Do me a favor? Don’t touch anything as you go through. And do not feed the Drenard.” He laughed out loud.
Molly tried to soothe the tension out of her body, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from his briefcase. It felt as though a chunk of her soul rattled around within.
As they entered his hangar bay, a soft light filtered through Parsona’s portholes and moved from front to back, popping through each window in turn. Every head swayed in unison as the landing gear scraped on metal decking, signaled their arrival. Molly was furious at the gear for lowering at another’s behest. For the second time, someone else had assumed command of her ship, and she hated it as much as people controlling her.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Albert began with a flourish, “welcome to Albert’s Arms. Please follow me for a quick tour. Again, mind the mess as we pass through Lady Liberty, I was not expecting company today.” He winked at Molly as if this were a private joke between the two of them and strolled back into the airlock as calmly as he had exited it. Molly felt another stab of betrayal when she heard her outer airlock door slide open for Albert. Walter rushed after him like a puppy while Cole gave her a vicious look. Edison was still absently rubbing his injured paw.
“I don’t like this any more than you guys do,” she said.
“We aren’t the ones that signed those contracts, though, are we?” Cole replied.
“Flank you, Cole.” Molly shot out of the crew seat and stormed across the cargo bay. “As soon as we arm my ship so you feel less ‘naked,’ we’re out of here. And straight to the Navy this time. I’m sick and tired of doing whatever other people want.” She trailed the rant behind her and spun into the airlock, slapping the doorjamb with her palm as she ducked through.
Yeah, it was a design flaw, she thought. She squeezed through the outer door and marched across the mating tube to Lady Liberty. She had pointed out the airlock problem to Cole while they were on Glemot, but hearing it from someone else made her angry. Or maybe her disgust with having signed those contracts had her lashing out.
She stepped through the coupling into Albert’s airlock and nearly choked on the smell. Something sticky and formerly edible mixed with the odor of plastic upholstery; the combination assaulted her olfactory senses. She could hear Walter and Albert in an animated discussion beyond and hoped the boy’s bartering skills were being put to good use. She also hoped Albert’s shop didn’t smell anything like his airlock. She stepped through the inner hatch and joined them in a room lined with spacesuits and padlocked storage compartments. It looked like a Navy MP locker room. She could only imagine what an arms dealer would keep in those bins.
Albert smiled at her. “Right this way,” he said jovially, stepping into Lady Liberty’s cargo bay. Walter followed and Molly hurried after them before Cole and Edison could catch up. She already regretted lashing out at them, but fought the urge to be contrite.
The cargo bay was a wreck, but at least the open ramp allowed fresh air in from beyond. Albert and Walter clanged down and out to the hangar. Molly took two steps and glanced to one side, down the hallway of Albert’s ship. She felt the urge to snoop, looked the other way, saw something move in her peripheral.
She froze.
The shape. The color. Years of training triggered synapses wired for fear. Molly reached for a stunner that wasn’t there. She pawed behind her for Cole. She looked for a stick or a weapon of some sort.
Albert was not joking about having a Drenard onboard.