Objects in Motion (2/4)
Objects in Motion
part one
“Anyone give you trouble?” Alex asked once they were inside the hatch, and Gabe could tell from the flicker of his eyelid that he didn’t just mean the locals.
“I’ve never seen anyone so happy to watch me leave,” Gabe replied, making sure to waggle his ass on the way past. “And that’s saying something.”
“Usually that has more to do with what you did while you were in the room,” Victoria remarked coolly. Her eyes flicked to William and dropped before returning to Gabe, and he knew she hadn’t missed the dirt scuffs on the knees of William’s trousers.
He wasn’t in any way ready to answer that particular question, though, so he took the easy way out and pretended he hadn’t noticed. “Everything go well on your end?”
“It’s all in the cargo hold, flash-frozen and ready for transport,” Alex reported. “Ryland got back about an hour before you did, so we’re all accounted for.”
“With customs clearance to boot,” Gabe returned. “Let’s blow this hunk of ice.”
Alex headed toward the navigation station, and if Gabe knew Nate, he was already in the engine room, making sure no one had snooped around and touched anything in their absence. Which meant they were ready to go.
Gabe turned to sling his coat over a rail. He got as far as “Do you know…?” before realizing William had disappeared, probably back to his room behind a locked door. It wasn’t that much of a surprise, all things considered. He shrugged at Ryland’s look of enquiry and said, “I’ll go call Pete.”
He stopped to key in the launch codes, which was how by the time he got to the radio, Victoria was already lying in wait for him. “So,” she said neutrally, hair swept up and makeup immaculate, one arched eyebrow awaiting an explanation.
Gabe held up both hands in surrender. “I swear, Victoria, I didn’t touch a hair on his head.”
Victoria regarded him for a moment. Then she said, “Your fly’s undone,” and left through the open hatch.
“Fuck,” Gabe said, fumbling with the skipped button on his trousers. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Victoria had questioned him before, on various points, but she’d never made any accusations. Then again, they’d never had a slave on board who was quite so…well. She might have reason, now, to be watching him.
The bell sounded next to the radio console, signaling their departure and emergence into unrestricted space. Gabe flung himself into the chair and hit the auto-dial.
Within seconds, Pete’s face was grinning back at him. “That was fast.”
“We’re on schedule,” Gabe confirmed. “And on our way.”
“I’m sending you a name,” Pete said. “A nice place to make a pit stop. It shouldn’t take you too far out of the way. How’s my present holding up?”
“Proven to be handy in a pinch,” Gabe replied. “Although he’s gotten hold of a pair of scissors, which makes me nervous.”
Pete’s expression sobered. “Jumper?”
Gabe shook his head. “Not even close. Save me a bottle, I’ll tell you the whole thing.”
“I’ve got one with your name on it,” Pete promised, and they both signed off.
The rest of his crew was waiting at the table in the lounge when Gabe reached them. He dropped into his customary chair at the end of the table and was just about to pass along the latest news when he caught a whisper of movement from the opposite archway and saw William watching them.
Gabe propped his chin up on his hand and grinned. “Hi there. Come for dinner?”
William slipped through the archway into plain view before halting again. “If I may.”
Gabe gestured to the sixth chair sitting empty at the far end of the table. “Pull up a chair. You’ve earned it.”
“More than,” Victoria commented, her attention on the dish of mashed peas as she spooned a serving onto her plate. Gabe felt a muscle in his jaw tic, but he didn’t let his smile drop.
William sat, still moving cautiously but coming far closer to all of them than he had since he’d come on board, so Gabe was counting it as a win. It was the little victories that counted, on this ship. He rarely got to see the slaves they rescued years after their liberation, which was all a part of the deal; he reminded them too much of another time in their lives, associated with everything they most wanted to forget.
There was a slightly awkward silence, which Ryland graciously broke by asking, “What’s the news from Pete?”
“What he means,” Nate translated for William as he helped himself to Victoria’s dish of peas, “is what are we doing with all the shit in our cargo hold?”
“And the answer to that,” Gabe declared grandly, determinedly recovering some of his good humor, “is The Butcher.”
William’s eyes flicked to each of them in turn, searching for reactions. “The Butcher?” he echoed.
“It’s a nickname,” Gabe said. “He’s a fence, and one of the best working for our side. He also dabbles in the acquisition of fine art, if you know what I mean. He’ll be able to get us a fair price for our stolen antiquities.”
“He’s a good man,” Ryland chimed in. “We’ve worked with him before.”
“And how,” William inquired carefully, “did he come to be known by such a colorful nom de guerre?”
Gabe’s ears pricked up instantly, trained to spot the little details that people let slip. William was educated, then, or at least raised among the upper class. He wouldn’t have been willing to bet on anyone at this table besides Ryland knowing that phrase.
“It’s a long story,” he replied with a quick smile. “And not one that involves art theft.”
William’s answering smile was guarded, but it reached his eyes, which Gabe was willing to count as another victory. “How very reassuring.”
Gabe was surprised into a short laugh. “Ryland’s the best one to tell it,” he said, glancing over. “I think we’ve got time.”
“Indeed,” Ryland replied, pushing his borrowed spectacles up his nose. “But first, if you please, pass the peas.”
-
The drop went off without a hitch, which was why Gabe was caught off guard when they were twenty minutes out from Butcher’s home base of Sila IV and Alex called out grimly, “We’ve been flagged.”
“What?” It took less than five seconds for Gabe to swing up to the console and read the government-issued warning over Alex’s shoulder. “Why?”
“Fuck if I know, but they’re moving fast. There’s a government schooner on an intercept course.”
“Butcher?” Ryland asked, appearing behind them with one hand on the rungs of the ladder leading to the gunnery tower.
“He wouldn’t sell us out,” Gabe argued. “There’s no way.”
“We were clean when we left the Myrmidons, I swear to fuck,” Alex insisted. “If it’s not us, it’s him. They’ve got to have surveillance up.”
“Fuck,” Gabe said with feeling. “Get word out to Butcher that…shit, nix that, they’re probably monitoring communications.”
“He’ll figure it out fast enough if we don’t check in with Pete,” Ryland pointed out. “Which is looking likely at the moment.”
“Not if I can help it,” Gabe replied. “What are our chances?”
“They outweigh us, outgun us, and out-engine us,” Victoria said, taking up position next to Alex to man the second console. “Slim to none.”
“Like fuck they out-engine us,” Nate called up from the bowels of the ship.
Victoria shook her head. “They’re too close, we won’t make it if we try to run.”
“And they’ll probably just shoot us full of holes,” Gabe commented. “Fine, let’s try not to look guilty. What have we got on board?”
“Nothing, we passed it all off to Butcher,” Alex answered. “The gold, but it’s unmarked, it should be clean. And a bottle of Nerrivik ice-wine, but that’s barely a felony.”
“If they’ve tagged us through Butcher, though, there’s a good chance they already know we look guilty,” Ryland put in.
“If they don’t have proof, the most they can do is charge us,” Gabe began, which was when he saw William lurking nervously in the hallway and the words dried up in his mouth. “Fuck.”
Victoria looked around sharply, following his gaze. “They can’t convict you for anything,” she said, but he could hear the uncertainty in her voice. They didn’t know how much the law had on them at this point, and Gabe only liked taking chances when the odds were in his favor.
“Transfer ownership?” Alex inquired, looking up. “If they only go after one of us, it’s most likely to be you.”
Gabe shook his head, eyes still on William. “There’s no time. Not only suspicious as hell, but we can’t get it notarized, which means he’ll still legally be my property at the time of arrest.”
William’s chin lifted a fraction, defiant even though he clearly still didn’t understand all of what they were talking about. “What’s going on?”
“We’re about to be boarded,” Gabe replied, the taste of the words bitter in his mouth. “And if I’m arrested and convicted of anything, my property is forfeit and seized by the government. Which means you go up for public auction.”
William went five shades paler. Gabe unfortunately didn’t have time or means to reassure him.
“Move the gold,” he ordered. “Get it out of the smuggling compartment, put him in instead. Move the gold in front of it, make it look poorly disguised. There’s a chance they won’t dig further.”
“Slim,” Victoria opined, but she didn’t contradict him. “They’re trying to get us on radio.”
“If they find the gold and figure out where it came from, they’ll have more of a case to make against us,” Alex pointed out. “He, on the other hand, won’t get us into any trouble if he’s discovered.”
“If they tagged us through Butcher, they already know we have something of value on board,” Gabe countered. “And they’ll be looking for it. I’m willing to give it to them without a fuss if it means they stop looking. He’s more valuable.”
“We can make it look like we keep him locked down there,” Ryland suggested. “That way if they do find him, it’s no harm, no foul.”
William flinched away slightly, looking like he was about to run, but Gabe still didn’t have time for him. The radio light was flashing, and the schooner was gaining ground, easing up behind them with guns at the ready.
“Do it,” Gabe said, and Ryland went, motioning for William to precede him down the gangway and wisely not trying to touch him.
“They’ve made it official, we’re to halt our course immediately or they fire a warning shot,” Victoria reported, jerking Gabe’s attention away from the vacant gangway.
“Is there any fucking chance of us getting a message out to Pete?” Gabe asked, plopping himself down into the chair in front of the radio.
“Not without it being picked up by a third party,” Victoria replied, her voice steel and calm.
“Fine. If they cut any of you loose, get to Butcher, tell him to get the fuck out,” Gabe ordered. “Even if they’re on us for some other reason, it doesn’t take much to connect the dots back to him.”
He held up his hand for silence, took a deep breath, and punched the radio button.
“This is Captain Saporta of the Cobra,” he said pleasantly. “To whom do I owe this pleasure?”
A dark-haired, round-faced man in uniform appeared on his screen, with a scrolling direct transfer feed at the bottom of Gabe’s screen authenticating his credentials. “This is Commander Way, badge number one-three-zero-zero-two-five,” the officer announced by way of greeting. “Halt your course and prepare to be boarded.”
-
Gabe had enough time to glance over the haphazard stack of boxes and containers Ryland and Nate had created to disguise their less-than-legal cargo, delete the records of their recent communications, and check his reflection in the sliver of mirror before punching the docking button and preparing to be charming. He could totally be charming. It was practically in his blood.
“Commander Way,” he said with a wide smile (but not too wide; acting genuinely happy to see law enforcement officers would only make them suspicious). “What’s all this about?”
Commander Way took his time looking around the hold before his gaze returned to Gabe. His eyebrows said you don’t know? but Gabe couldn’t very well confess before he knew what they had on him. If it was nothing but suspicion and circumstantial evidence, they might be able to skate.
“Your engine oxidizer is leaking helium,” Way informed him, causing Gabe to blink and very nearly gape at him in disbelief. “Are you aware of this problem?”
Gabe looked at Nate, who was already frowning. “Were we aware of this problem?” he echoed, genuinely at a loss. What he really wanted to say was, that’s what all this is about? but the obvious response to that would be why, what should it be about? and Gabe wasn’t stupid.
“No,” Nate answered. “Helium pressure reads as normal, the engines would have shut down otherwise.”
“Not necessarily,” one of the other officers spoke up - Lieutenant Toro, according to his badge - as he stepped forward beside Way. “There are certain ways to maintain helium pressure even after tampering with the fuel preburner system.”
Nate was starting to bristle already. “Nothing’s been tampered with,” he declared. “I maintain the engines myself. If there’s a leak, it’s a genuine mechanical error.”
“That you somehow missed,” Toro replied, too gently. Nate bristled even further.
“Hey, woah, wait,” Gabe interjected, before Nate could open his mouth and go ballistic, and possibly get them into even more trouble than what Gabe wasn’t already totally sure they were in. “So we have a mechanical problem.”
“A helium leak from the engines obscures your registration code and locator signal,” Way replied. “This particular one has been doing so for at least the past several days.”
“Wait.” Gabe still couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. “So basically what you’re saying is that you boarded us because our taillight is out?”
Way looked blank, which meant that he hadn’t spent enough time on gentrified planets to catch the reference, but Toro snorted. “A helium leak of this type is also a common byproduct of preburner tampering, as I was saying,” Toro informed them. “Which has been known to happen during installation of a jump-start turbopump.”
“Those are illegal,” Gabe said automatically, and then wanted to smack himself in the face. Of course they were illegal, why else would they have officers traipsing around on his ship?
“You know what they are, though,” Toro said. Gabe did, mostly because he’d smuggled one a few months back, but he couldn’t very well say that.
Nate spoke up for him instead. “Yeah. And we know there’s not one aboard,” he replied, folding his arms over his chest.
“You don’t mind if we have a look around,” Way said, and it wasn’t a question.
Gabe swept them a bow, extending his arm toward the hatch leading to the engine room. “Be my guest,” he offered. Nate glared, but he didn’t object, for which Gabe said thankful prayers inside his head. If they could get this over with and send their unwanted visitors off none the wiser, it would be one hell of a lucky break.
Toro spent a lot of time in the engine room, poking at various things, but Gabe knew full well they didn’t have shit down here, so he just kept an eye on Nate, ready to snap the leash if necessary to keep them out of trouble. Luckily, Nate seemed to remember there was more at stake here as well, because he didn’t bite anyone’s head off even when Toro fucked around with the pressure gauges and inspected the controls for the feed line manifold. At least, that’s what Gabe thought it was. As a general rule, he left the engine room alone as Nate’s domain.
“It looks like a genuine mechanical failure,” Toro said at last, and Gabe exhaled, shoulders dropping incrementally as he watched Nate bite his own tongue.
“So that’s it?” Gabe asked, sure there was a catch somewhere he was missing. “It’s just a leak?”
Way puffed up a little bit, his voice hitting an all-new range of high and nasal. “Space pollution is a growing problem,” he said with irritation. “Especially this close to an inhabited space station. It’s not something to be taken lightly.”
“Right, of course not,” Gabe said hastily, trying to sound sincerely concerned and not relieved as fuck. “We’ll get that taken care of right away.”
Way still looked like he had ruffled feathers, but he just nodded shortly. “There should be a mechanic on hand at Sila IV…” he began, when another voice - the third officer, Iero, the one watching the docking hatch - called down, “Gee, you’re going to want to see this.”
Just that fast, Gabe’s stomach dropped into his feet. Way gave him a curious look, and called up, “What is it?” as he started to climb the ladder to the cargo hold.
Gabe was stuck behind Way and Toro, so he couldn’t see what was going on, but he heard it clear enough when Iero said, “Remember that report we got on six crates of stolen gold out of Persephone?”
Gabe exchanged grim looks with Nate, and headed up into the hold. Now it was time to play for real.
“You were snooping around again?” Way asked, with a hint of resignation in his voice.
“You should be glad I was,” Iero replied, and Gabe arrived in the hold just in time to see him pulling William forward out of the hidden compartment. “They also have a stowaway.”
Shit. “Not a stowaway,” Gabe said quickly, stepping forward with his hands up. “Pleasure slave. Legally bought and paid for, registered with the authorities on Jarilo VII.”
Way’s expression darkened, and Gabe watched every chance they had of getting out of this without complication vanish in the space of a second. “I’m bringing you all in for questioning,” he announced, “for suspicion of possession of stolen goods. And that’s better than you deserve,” he added, with a disgusted look at Gabe, “you filthy human trafficker.”
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Gabe said.
“Afraid not,” Toro replied, seemingly apologetic even as he twisted Gabe’s hands behind his back to shackle them. “Captain Saporta, you and your crew are under arrest.”
-
It wasn’t that Gabe couldn’t see the irony in the situation, that he was being held and ruthlessly investigated because the law enforcement officer with whom they’d crossed paths was a liberation sympathizer, because he could. He just really didn’t appreciate it at the moment.
“Where did you get the gold?” Way asked, for at least the fourth time. Gabe hadn’t bothered counting. They’d been circling the same topic for an hour now, in a stale, warm interrogation room on the schooner. Gabe didn’t know if his people were being interrogated as well or just held, but the longer they kept him in here, the more antsy he became. He also didn’t know what the fuck they’d done with William, which was the reason for more than half his twitchiness.
“Found it,” Gabe said, like he had the last three times. “Finders keepers, right?”
“You just happened upon it,” Way said, with a level of sarcasm that would read from planet-side. “That’s your story.” When Gabe shrugged, slouching indolently in his uncomfortable - and small - metal chair, Way said, “That’s bullshit. Were you aware that it was stolen?”
“Not by me,” Gabe said honestly. It wasn’t much of a defense, but Gabe hadn’t been anywhere near Persephone in more than two years, and his ship’s navigation system would back that claim.
“If it wasn’t you, it was your crew,” Way stated. “I can take them down as easily as I can take you.”
Gabe’s eyes narrowed, sharp in a deliberately and deceptively lazy expression. “Do you have any proof to back that up?” he inquired mildly. “Because I don’t think you do.”
“Temperature readings say that gold was flash-frozen within the week,” Way said, attacking from another angle. “Did you melt it down?”
“If I had, and if it had been legal currency or tagged relics, you and I both know there would have been electronic markers mixed in with the metal,” Gabe replied, steepling his fingers on the table at the extent of his chains. “Did you find any?”
“I’m not accusing you of melting down government currency,” Way said. “I’m accusing you of possessing stolen property, specifically six crates of gold bars stolen from the mining facility on Persephone.”
Gabe gave him a tight, sharp smile. “And I’m saying, prove it.”
Way paused for a moment, looking out through the veil-glass lining one side of the interrogation room. “I’ve seen your records,” he said, the tone an attempt at casual that was ruined by the tension beneath it. Now, Gabe thought, they were finally getting to it. “I’ve pulled your ship’s manifest. I know you’ve bought twenty-six slaves within the past two years, and yet you’re only traveling with one.” Way turned around and folded his arms tightly, the gesture more emotional and defensive than confrontational. “Where did the others go?”
This was a topic Gabe had to work very carefully to avoid. He shrugged one shoulder, nice and slow. “They outlived their usefulness.”
“Did they?” Way asked. “Did they outlive anything, or did you kill them once you got bored with them?”
Gabe met his expression head-on and didn’t give him so much as an eyelid flicker. “I’m sure it wouldn’t matter what I did with them,” he said, affecting as bored a tone as possible. “They were my property.”
He knew Way would pick up on the past tense, and sure enough, his jaw snapped shut with an audible click. “You’re right,” Way said tightly. “I might not be able to prove you stole those crates from Persephone, but I can get a chemical match and nail you for possession of stolen property, as well as space pollution and operating a ship’s engine under hazardous conditions. That’s enough to meet the minimum requirements for legal forfeiture of all of your property, including your ship and your latest toy.” Way’s eyes burned with satisfaction. “The body count stops at twenty-five.”
Gabe’s body jerked forward reflexively, his heart rate jumping wildly. “No,” he said out loud. “You can’t.”
“Watch me.” Way tugged on his uniform jacket sharply, knuckles white. “I might not be able to keep you on a prison station, but I can put you there for long enough to save a life.”
“Fuck,” Gabe said. He tried to rise, forgetting for the moment that he was shackled until the chains brought him up short and jerked him back down into his chair. “I don’t give a shit about the gold,” he said honestly. “But if you convict me, he goes up for auction. You know where he’s going to end up from there? It’s not going to be with a bleeding heart like you.”
“I wouldn’t buy another human being,” Way sneered. “And it’s still better off than disappearing after a few months with you.”
Way had him cornered. Gabe had no doubt Way would be able to put together enough of a case to put him behind bars, and if that happened, talking big and getting Pete to post bail wouldn’t save William. William, with his unfettered fucking defiance and his criminally pretty face. He’d bring in a fortune on the right market. And Gabe would never be able to find him a second time.
He had two choices, and one of them wasn’t even an option at all. For the first time since he’d started in this trade, he was going to blow his cover, and he was going to do it on the long shot that it could save one slave.
Gabe blew out a breath. “You want to know why they disappear?” he demanded, pulling forward against his restraints. He sat back, telling himself to calm the fuck down, and took a few breaths. “Shut off the surveillance and I’ll tell you.”
Way looked suspicious now, as well he might, but also intrigued. Intrigued was good. Gabe could work with intrigued.
Way flipped three switches on the wall by the door, and touched a panel that had the surface of the veil-glass shimmering and turning a cloudy opaque. He came back to the table and stood for a moment at the end of it, regarding Gabe. “I’m listening,” he said finally.
Moment of truth. If Way wasn’t actually a liberation sympathizer, if he was onto them and fishing for evidence, Gabe could be risking Pete’s entire operation. If Gabe didn’t tell him, though…if he played dumb, he’d be handing William directly over to the slavers.
Gabe laced his fingers. “They disappear because I don’t keep slaves,” he said; the plainest terms he could manage, without completely trusting that this conversation remained unrecorded. “I buy them, but I don’t keep them. Do you understand me?”
Way was silent for a moment. “You peddle,” he interpreted.
Gabe shook his head slowly. “There are no records of sale,” he said evenly. “You already know that.”
Way twitched like he wanted to be moving, too much emotion bottled up for such inactivity. “Why should I believe you?” he asked. His voice was still laced thoroughly with suspicion, but with something else in there too, Gabe thought. Hope. He wanted to believe it.
Gabe smirked. “I’m traveling with a pleasure slave who’s been in my possession for days, and he’s still registered as a virgin,” Gabe said. Shaking his head, he added, “You’ve seen him. You really think I’d wait so long for that?”
Way’s expression was difficult to read, but he’d started chewing on the inside of his lip, so at least Gabe knew he was turning that over. “He’s worth more in resale value,” Way said. “Do you think I don’t know that?”
Gabe raised his eyebrows. “You already know I don’t sell them,” he pointed out.
Way’s eyes narrowed. “Then you were breaking him in. You were keeping him locked in a cramped compartment under the floor, without access to water or proper facilities.”
“Right,” Gabe said, because he couldn’t very well say, no, we were just hiding him from you. What he could say was, “He was surprisingly clean and well-dressed for someone who’d spent days locked in a small compartment, wouldn’t you say?”
Way suddenly went very, very still. “Assuming I believe you,” he said slowly, “I’m a government officer. If I follow up on what you’ve just told me and find even one of those missing people, you could go to jail for the rest of your life.”
“If you convict me for anything at all, someone else goes missing, back to the slave auctions,” Gabe answered. “It’s a chance I’m willing to take.”
Way chewed on his lip for a moment more. “And your crew?”
Gabe shook his head. “I’m sticking my neck out for me. I’m not giving anyone else up. And they won’t tell you anything.”
Way stood silent for a moment longer before he paced to the door, reached out and flipped the switches on the wall. “The helium leak thing is still a problem,” he said, turning back to face Gabe and holding up the key to the shackles. “I can set you up with a mechanic.”
Gabe tried hard not to just slump across the table in relief, but his hands still shook from the adrenaline when he replied, “That would be much appreciated.”
-
Commander Way didn’t actually escort them back to Sila IV. He towed them all the way around to Sila III, which was nice because it saved them fuel on the journey, and got them bumped up to the first working slot. Gabe had to admit, arriving on the heels of law enforcement did have something going for it.
The dock was run by a no-nonsense, knows-her-shit mechanic named Alicia, and Gabe had to take a second to reclassify the Commander in his head once they touched down inside the enclosed station bay, because Alicia was hitched to none other than Mikey Way.
It had been a few years since the Atlacoya job, but Mikey recognized Gabe as fast as Gabe had recognized him. “Hi,” he said, wiping his hand off on his trousers as he tucked a data pad into one of his coat pockets. “Friends of my brother?”
So that was the connection. Gabe knew enough to be able to translate that sentence into because if you aren’t, then you and I don’t know each other, and he grinned acknowledgement. “New friends,” he answered. “We got flagged for an engine violation coming out of Sila IV, and he was kind enough to give us a lift.”
Mikey bobbed his head. “Cool,” he said, and jerked a thumb back over his shoulder. “I’m just gonna…” he said, silently trailing off into call Pete, if Gabe knew Mikey. And good, there was one of their problems taken care of. Gabe didn’t dare risk checking in with the Commander’s ship practically blacking out their satellite range, but they were overdue and he didn’t like to make Pete nervous.
Alicia and Nate were pissing on their respective turf over by the exhaust pipe when Gabe checked, so he took up residence by the boarding ramp to keep a general eye on things. Their escort hadn’t cleared off when Alicia had started working, so Gabe hazarded a guess that they weren’t out of the hot water yet.
There was another mechanic taking readings, her sleeves rolled up almost to the point of being scandalous, exposing blooms of color tattooed all across her skin. Commander Way - Gerard, if Mikey was his brother, and had Gabe ever heard a lot about him back in the day - was watching her with a goofy little dopey smile on his face, hands in his pockets and suddenly far more sheepish and awkward than a Commander really ought to be.
Iero caught Gabe’s grin and answered it with one of his own, drifting over to lean against one of the support rails, chewing on an anise stick. “It’s cute, isn’t it?” Iero commented, as Alicia’s mechanic passed Commander Way a wrocket tool and he held it like it was a precious treasure, with the jittery nerves of someone about to drop it and bruise his toe in another half-second. Gabe snorted. Iero grinned at him sideways. “I’m not saying we go out of our way to stop ships with mechanical trouble,” Iero confided, the anise stick bobbing out of the side of his mouth as he spoke, “but Gee does tend to perk up when we find them.”
“Lucky for us,” Gabe replied, and Iero smirked.
“Lynz, I’m going down to check the pressure gauges, can you stay here and monitor the leak?” Alicia called, doing a good job of ignoring Nate standing practically on her heels, arms crossed and glowering. Probably, Gabe guessed, at the use of the singular pronoun. As if Nate would ever let another mechanic run amok in his engine room without supervision.
Lynz nodded, pushes up her sleeves another inch, and started fiddling with a device of some sort that involved a dial and a lot of knobs. Gabe saw William lurking around the far curve of the external bulk that was the ship’s engine, taking everything in while staying just out of the way. Lynz spotted him in the next instant, and Gabe saw her mouth quirk up sideways, wry and amused. “You want to come help me with this?” she asked, waving the device around lightly. “I could use a hand.”
William slipped out from his hiding place to meet her, and Gabe barely had a chance to marvel before someone said right next to his ear, “Your guys thirsty?”
Gabe jumped, and held a hand to his heart. “Fuck, M-man,” he said, catching himself just in time with Iero so close and so curious. “You scared the shit out of me. Warn a guy.”
“Sorry,” Mikey said, in a tone that was nothing if not unapologetic. “We have some limonale, I think, if you want.” He scratched his nose. “There’s a lot of us, though, you might have to help me carry it.”
And that, Gabe thought as his skin prickled, was an invitation to speak privately, which meant Mikey probably had news from Pete. “Sure thing,” he agreed, casually pushing off from his slouch against the side of the boarding ramp. “Lead the way.”
He followed Mikey down a zig-zag corridor filled with spare engine parts and knots of cable, through a furnished room that was obviously part of someone’s living quarters into a small refrigeration unit. Mikey shut the door behind them, a soundproof barrier to the outside world, and said, “Pete says hi.”
“Mikey fuckin’ Way,” Gabe said in answer, clasping Mikey in a proper welcoming hug. “The fuck have you been? It’s been ages. And why the fuck didn’t you mention your brother worked the Sila IV beat?”
Mikey shrugged, accepting the hug the way he did everything else, with gracious tolerance. “He moves around a lot. He’s only been here for a few months, since me and Alicia moved. I don’t think he’s ready to settle yet.” His eyes looked softer than Gabe remembered them, clearer without the spectacles he used to wear. “He didn’t arrest you?”
“Nah, I gave him a bleeding heart story and suckered my way out. The bleeding heart story,” he added with a grimace, because he and Mikey had never worked together doing what Gabe did now, but Mikey knew full well what it was Gabe currently did for Pete. “No way around it, so tell Pete to tiptoe lightly around here for a while.”
“He won’t say anything,” Mikey said, with no trace of uncertainty in his voice, like he was stating a fact he’d read in the Encyclopedia Galactica. “He cares too much.”
“Yeah, I figured.” Gabe gave Mikey a searching once-over, remembering stories swapped in the lounge of another ship, a long time ago. “He the reason you got into it, or the other way around?”
Mikey shrugged. “He doesn’t know. I mean, he knows some things, I think, but he doesn’t ask. He says he can’t know. He might not believe in everything the government says, but he’s serious about his job.”
“Then we got really fuckin’ lucky,” Gabe said. “We’ve got a shit-ton of unmarked gold on board, and its disappearance has not gone unnoticed, if you know what I mean.”
“Yeah, Pete said.” Mikey shifted his weight, pulled out the data pad he’d been carrying earlier and started typing. “I can find you a place to ditch it, I think. Gee probably had to report it, even if he didn’t arrest you, and word gets out.”
“Fuck,” Gabe muttered, although it could have been worse, and he should have known that was coming anyway. Gerard could afford to be lenient to a point, but letting them go wasn’t the same as falsifying reports. The last thing they really needed, though, was trouble from pirates once they hit the edge of the Decay ring. “Anywhere we can get full price on short notice, without taking us too far out of the way? I’d rather not take many more detours if we can help it.”
Mikey rubbed his nose again, a gesture Gabe recognized as having evolved from years of pushing his glasses up and having them slide back down again. “Yeah, but you’re not going to like it,” he said. “There’s already a buzz, and most of it’s coming out of Shiva.”
Mikey was right, Gabe didn’t like it, although he really should have seen that coming as well. “I fucking hate going to Shiva,” he said, as conversationally as he could around the sinking pit of lead in his stomach.
Mikey shrugged one shoulder. “There are other places,” he said, still tapping away at his pad, “but they’re all in the wrong direction, if you’re heading back to Pete.”
Which Gabe knew, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. “We are,” he confirmed, looking at the door to the refrigeration unit as if he could see through it to William on the other side. “We’ve got a delivery to make.”
“Yeah,” Mikey agreed neutrally. Then, “Don’t forget the limonale.”
Back in the bay, Nate and Alicia appeared to have hammered out their differences with spanners, or at least drawn lines both of them could live with, since Gabe didn’t see any blood on the deck. The rest of his crew was lounging around talking to Iero and Toro, managing to look casual while Gabe knew for a fact, by the way they all simultaneously glanced at the doorway when he entered, that they were keeping a sharp eye on everything and everyone in the vicinity.
He looked around for William and was surprised to find him not only still helping Lynz the mechanic, but honestly interested, nodding along as she explained something and holding up her dial device whenever she motioned for it. He looked more animated than Gabe had ever seen him when he wasn’t trying to fuck Gabe’s shit up.
Mikey’s brother appeared by his side, still with that dopey look on his face. “She’s good at that,” he said, watching Lynz show William how to do something to the ship’s hull by placing his hands where she needed them. “Drawing people out.”
“So I see,” Gabe answered, amused. Gerard was chewing on his lip again, lost in thought or simply hopeless adoration.
“I think she used to be a slave,” Gerard said finally, quiet enough to be for Gabe’s ears alone. Gabe half-turned toward him, eyebrows raised, but Gerard didn’t meet his gaze. “I can’t ask her, obviously, but, I mean…she says things, sometimes, and she acts…” Gerard gave a little sigh, rubbing at the sleeve of his uniform coat like it was an itch getting under his skin. His voice dropped even lower, forcing Gabe to listen hard to hear him. “And she has scars, on her arms. You can’t see most of them, because of her tattoos, but they’re there.”
“Lots of people have scars,” Gabe replied neutrally. He wondered if this was the reason Gerard was still looking but not touching; if he feared more than rejection.
Gerard sighed again. “Yeah,” he said, so like and unlike Mikey in that moment that Gabe blinked.
He put aside their respective positions - and careers - for a moment and turned to face Gerard fully, resting a hip on the bay wall. “Look, dude,” he said honestly. “I get why you don’t want to crowd her, because you’ve got obligations and shit, but if you respect her, you’ve got to let her make her own choices. It’s part of the whole free person thing, and by taking it out of her hands, you’re not exactly treating her like you think she is one. You get what I’m saying?”
Gerard looked startled, and then thoughtful. “Yeah, I get it,” he answered, his gaze flitting away from Gabe to settle again on Lynz. He glanced back again within a few seconds and added, “You’re pretty good at the pep talking.”
“Yeah, well.” Gabe cracked his neck and let himself look at William. He was nodding again, listening intently, pushing his newly-clipped hair back behind his ear as it seemed determined to fall forward into his eyes.
Gabe cast a critical eye over Lynz and wondered if Gerard might be right. He hadn’t spent enough time with her to know, but she had a certain way of moving that might speak to a past, and the colorful tattoos were as clear a statement of defiance and taking control of her own body as he’d ever seen. Maybe that was why William had warmed to her as quickly as he had, when he hadn’t opened up to anyone else. Maybe he’d sensed the same thing Gerard suspected. It was good for him, anyway, to talk to someone. Maybe she’d get him to relax a little bit, share stories and start to heal whatever wounds he had that he hadn’t let Gabe see.
Hard on the heels of that thought came another. He looked sideways at Gerard sharply as soon as it occurred to him, playing the hunch. “This is a test, isn’t it?” he asked. “You asked her to check him out. See if I was telling the truth.”
Gerard’s twitch of reaction gave him away even before the faint color staining his cheekbones. “It never hurts to be careful,” he hedged. “I could still arrest you if I had to.”
Gabe grinned. “How’m I doing?”
Gerard looked like he was struggling with himself for a minute, but then he shrugged, giving in. “Alicia says he’s not afraid of you. Any of you.”
Gabe snorted. “He’s given half of us black eyes, no fucking kidding he’s not afraid of us.” He ignored Gerard’s curious look in favor of watching William, whose gaze flicked over a moment later, like he’d sensed that they were talking about him. Gabe smiled at him, lazy and harmless, and William got that evaluating expression Gabe knew to avoid up close before looking away again, distracted by Lynz and some piece of electronic machinery.
Gerard’s voice was a study in cautiousness when he offered, “He’s pretty. If you like that sort of thing.”
Gabe did like that sort of thing, as it happened - and he had noticed - but he wasn’t stupid. “He’s off-limits,” he told Gerard, straightening up and casually stretching out, getting ready to go check on the progress report. If they were hitting Shiva, he wanted to do it before too many more people became aware of who was purportedly carrying around six crates of stolen gold.
Gerard didn’t make the comparison, but he didn’t have to; his eyes were obviously on Lynz as he commented, “That’s a bit hypocritical, isn’t it?”
This time, Gabe’s smile had teeth. “It’s a little different. He still has a bill of sale, and that bill has my name on it.”
He could have been imagining it, but he thought Gerard relaxed slightly. “I suppose.”
Gabe rolled his shoulders out. “Ask her out,” he advised. Then he thought for a second and added, “Or have your brother do it, he’s a fuckin’ charmer.”
He saw Gerard’s eyes widen, suspected a few more pieces had just fallen into place, and watched that one casual statement, open to interpretation, seal their freedom.
“Travel safe,” Gerard said. “You might want to stop off along the way, get rid of some of your excess cargo. Added weight just slows a ship down.”
“Already on it,” Gabe assured him, sketching a half-assed salute. He caught Mikey’s eye as he turned - watch your back, expect questions - and laughed short and sharp at Mikey’s answering eyeroll and look of annoyance.
William straightened up when he saw Gabe approaching, but he didn’t move away from Lynz, no guilt or fear in his posture. Gabe just grinned wider.
“Nate,” he called up the boarding ramp. “How’s my ship?”
“Ready to go in five minutes,” Nate called back from somewhere within, accompanied by the heavy clank of metal-on-metal. “You should probably start settling the bill.”
“Right,” Gabe answered, turning around and jerking his chin at the rest of his lazy-ass layabouts. “Cobra crew, let’s roll.”
-
“Shiva,” Alex echoed, in the same tone Gabe could see on all of their faces, unhappy but resigned.
“It’s not far from here, it’s practically on our way, and it’s where the rumor mill got all fired up about unmarked gold coming out of Persephone,” Gabe said. “Until we get rid of that shit, we’ve got a big fucking target on our backs.”
“We know,” Ryland told him, apparently speaking for Alex the way he did sometimes, and vice versa. “We just have strong feelings of dislike for that particular hellhole.”
“Believe me, I’m with you,” Gabe said. “Especially right now.” He was trying not to think too much about that yet, but it couldn’t be avoided forever. At some point he needed to figure out what the fuck they were going to do with William.
“You have a contact?” Victoria asked, crossing her legs. Of all of them, she showed the least sign of being bothered by their current destination. Then again, Victoria knew how to keep things to herself.
“Travis is working on it. He’s heading there as well, should touch down an hour or so before we arrive.” It was the one reassurance he had, and he was grateful for it. Travis and his crew ran in a different direction than most of Pete’s network, but they were solid guys, no question about it. Gabe would rather have them at his back than a lot of the punks he’d worked with in the past.
“Is there a plan?” Ryland inquired, fingers steepled, focused like he always was before a drop like this one.
“Nate and Alex take the cargo to a safe place, somewhere with bruisers in close proximity. If Travis’ crew is there, you meet up with them. Victoria and Ryland are with me, I want the firepower if anything goes wrong. Once a deal is made, they go together to escort you to our buyers. No one travels alone.”
“Except for you,” Victoria remarked, “once we leave.”
Gabe smiled, a little sharp though his heart wasn’t in it. “I won’t be alone,” he told her. “We’re currently a crew of six.”
She searched his eyes, but didn’t comment. He wished he knew what the fuck she was thinking, but it probably wouldn’t be all that helpful anyway.
“Anything else?” he asked, tapping his finger on the table. “We should have three hours, give or take, so it’s time to get our heads in the game.”
That was apparently good enough for Alex. “I’ll plot a course,” Alex said, standing up. Victoria was already on her way out the door, no doubt to start on her makeup. They had a couple of hours yet, but Victoria took her roles very seriously. Nate pushed back a second later, thoughts turned inward from what Gabe could read of his expression. He headed toward the gunnery turret rather than the engine room, and not for the first time, Gabe thanked fuck for Nate. Their security would be double-checked from top to bottom by the time they made contact, which was really all they could do.
Ryland was watching him steadily. Gabe sat back and let him come around to it, which he did soon enough. “You have a backup plan?” Ryland asked, mildly enough.
“Cross my fingers, hope we get lucky, and give everyone guns just in case we don’t,” Gabe answered, tone more flippant than he felt. He knew Ryland wouldn’t buy the act, but it was part of his persona. This close to show time, he needed to start pulling it together. “I’ll come up with something.”
Ryland nodded, and Gabe stood up from the table to head back to their shared crew cabin. He had his own preparations to make.
It was times like this that reputation counted, and his was one of the best - or worst, depending on how you looked at it. He donned a silver tailored suit with the faint hint of scales patterned into the fabric, a burgundy cravat, and enough flashy rings to fit every finger. His walking stick fit itself neatly into his hand when he reached for it, to check both the hidden catch and the sharpness of the blade concealed within. He started to walk out, satisfied with his appearance, and then paused, reconsidering as he remembered the last time he’d handled this particular cane. He opted to leave it just inside the door, where he could grab it again easily before departure.
Then he went to see William.
It took a moment before William cracked open the door to his cabin at Gabe’s light knock, looking surprised and wary, which was fair enough. They hadn’t disturbed his sanctuary since he’d come aboard, leaving him to come to meals or not as he chose. Normally Gabe would respect that throughout the voyage, but these circumstances were slightly out of the ordinary.
His eyes swept Gabe up and down, and Gabe had to repress the urge to strike a pose for William’s visual appreciation. William’s gaze caught for a moment on Gabe’s gloves, the ones he never bothered to wear onboard in their relaxed social setting, and he jumped to the correct conclusion. “You’re going somewhere.”
“We,” Gabe corrected, firm and unapologetic. “We are going somewhere. Shiva. Have you heard of it?”
It was another roundabout inquiry into William’s past, and one that Gabe saw him debating before William finally opened the door another crack and said, “The Underworld.”
“One of them,” Gabe agreed. “This one’s more unpleasant than most. Unfortunately, we need to get rid of some things in a hurry, and Shiva’s the place to do it. I’m here because I need you to come along for the ride.”
“You don’t trust me,” William interpreted, and Gabe couldn’t help flashing him a quick, wry smile. He didn’t, of course, but that wasn’t the real issue.
“Shiva is full of pirates, thieves, and other outer space scumbags,” he informed William. “If anyone steals my fucking ship while we’re down there, they’re not getting you along with it. Not while I’m still breathing. That’s what I don’t trust.”
William considered him for another moment, and then opened the door the rest of the way. “What do I need to do?”
Gabe didn’t push past him into the small cabin; he gestured instead for William to go first, and waited until there was enough room before following behind. “Dress the part,” he answered belatedly, lounging against the wall next to the narrow wardrobe locker. “We can’t disguise that collar around your neck, not down there, so you’ll have to play the role. Ordinarily I’d stop off somewhere and pick up a more traditional pleasure slave costume, but we don’t have the time, and there’s nothing like that on board.”
William’s eyes flicked to the wardrobe, where Gabe suspected the virgin’s brothel tunic had been discarded to the very back of the locker. Then they flicked back to him, and Gabe was thankful he had a different plan, because he suspected he would have had to beat William near to unconscious before being able to wrestle him back into that shift.
“Not that,” he said, smiling slightly. “I’d rather not tempt fate. Or the locals. And you’re a bit too much of a temptation in that.”
William’s guard didn’t go down in the slightest. “What, then?”
Gabe opened the wardrobe locker, after a brief eyebrow-quirk at William for permission, and sorted through until he found what he was looking for. “If we can’t make you look like a traditional slave,” he explained, holding up the silk shirt, “we can at least make you look like you’re mine.”
It was arguably the best in his wardrobe; certainly one of the most expensive. The charcoal trousers he pulled out next were just as fine, and cut to hide very little.
“See Ryland if anything needs to be tailored on short notice,” Gabe offered, hunting through the locker in search of a suitable waistcoat. “He’s good at that.”
When he looked around again, vest in hand, William was holding the clothes up in front of his chest, and Gabe could read what he was thinking all too easily.
“I’ll be outside,” he said, hoping to reassure. “Just knock if you have any problems.”
There was a part of him, although he refused to acknowledge it, that wanted very badly to stay, to watch William undress and drape Gabe’s silk shirt over his shoulders like a second skin. There was a part of him even further down that wanted to place his hands over William’s waist and feel the silk warm as it absorbed his body heat.
“Outside,” he told himself firmly, pacing a few steps down the corridor. He distracted himself by going through the plan again, step-by-step; who would be where and when and what might go wrong.
Then William opened the door again and Gabe forgot all of it.
It was ridiculous to be aroused by the sight of another man wearing his clothes, but there was something primal about it, knowing that William was surrounded by his scent and how the cloth felt against his skin. He told himself firmly to stop staring, and then again when it didn’t work the first time.
The shirt was just the right color for William’s skin, and the vest fit around his waist like a dream. Gabe clasped his hands behind his back to keep from touching and asked, as casually as he could manage, “How do they fit?”
William plucked delicately at his shoulder. “The shirt’s a little…billowy.”
“It does that,” Gabe affirmed, giving in and using the excuse of wardrobe critique to run his eyes over William full-length one more time. “The waistcoat will pin it down, it looks fine.”
More than fine. More like Gabe wanted to start taking it all off again, preferably with his teeth.
“And the trousers…” William began, but with a certain note of resignation that meant he already suspected what Gabe was going to say next. Gabe chuckled.
“Yes, they are meant to fit like that. You look good.” Really, though, there was only so much free rein he could give himself as an excuse for staring at William’s crotch. He pulled his eyes up, and saw William watching him steadily. Busted.
He cleared his throat and said, “There is just one more thing.”
William froze in the act of closing the cabin door behind him, suddenly alert again. Gabe was reminded of a skittish, fleet-footed herbivore abruptly spotting a predator, and hated himself immediately for the comparison.
He drew the thin, shimmering length of chain out of his inside pocket and held it up for William to see. “The planetary law on Shiva states that no slaves are permitted to roam free outside of private residences.”
William stared at him. Gabe didn’t back down or move a muscle, holding his ground until William said slowly, “You want to put me on a leash.”
“Think of it as an accessory,” Gabe offered, but his attempt at levity fell flat in the face of William’s unchanging expression. He offered the clasp-end of the chain up for William’s inspection. “It won’t be locked, you’ll be able to get it off in a hurry if you need to. I’ll show you how to release it.”
William kept staring at him. Gabe supposed the idea of being paraded around on the end of a jewelry chain as private property wasn’t one that made itself particularly appealing. Especially when similar things had undoubtedly happened before, in less playacted circumstances.
He sensed a fight coming on, one that they didn’t have time for, and spoke firmly enough to hopefully head it off at the pass. “I can’t leave you here and I can’t bring you along without this. It’s either the chain or I knock you over the head with something and carry you over my shoulder, but this way seems a lot easier for everyone.”
William held his gaze for another full minute, long enough that Gabe was starting to tense up and think he might actually have to resort to plan B. Then William tilted his chin up deliberately and held it there, granting Gabe access to the collar around his throat.
Gabe stepped in, nearly chest-to-chest in order to manipulate the clasp and ensure that any unexpected pressure wouldn’t pull the collar sideways into its secondary function as a choke-chain. He clipped the leash to William’s collar and drew the gleaming chain through his fingers, barely brushing William’s skin with the backs of his knuckles.
“You can hold onto this for now,” he said, and wanted to smack himself in the face for how his voice sounded, low and gravelly in his chest. William hadn’t broken eye contact, and was currently regarding him far more knowingly than Gabe would have preferred. He didn’t make any move to take the leash, so Gabe coiled it and tucked the slithering length of metal into the side pocket of William’s borrowed waistcoat.
“We have about two and a half hours,” he said, clearing his throat and stepping back, out of William’s personal space. “I’ll see you then.”
He didn’t look back as he walked away, but he could feel William’s eyes on him all the same, all the way to the command bridge.
part three
part one
“Anyone give you trouble?” Alex asked once they were inside the hatch, and Gabe could tell from the flicker of his eyelid that he didn’t just mean the locals.
“I’ve never seen anyone so happy to watch me leave,” Gabe replied, making sure to waggle his ass on the way past. “And that’s saying something.”
“Usually that has more to do with what you did while you were in the room,” Victoria remarked coolly. Her eyes flicked to William and dropped before returning to Gabe, and he knew she hadn’t missed the dirt scuffs on the knees of William’s trousers.
He wasn’t in any way ready to answer that particular question, though, so he took the easy way out and pretended he hadn’t noticed. “Everything go well on your end?”
“It’s all in the cargo hold, flash-frozen and ready for transport,” Alex reported. “Ryland got back about an hour before you did, so we’re all accounted for.”
“With customs clearance to boot,” Gabe returned. “Let’s blow this hunk of ice.”
Alex headed toward the navigation station, and if Gabe knew Nate, he was already in the engine room, making sure no one had snooped around and touched anything in their absence. Which meant they were ready to go.
Gabe turned to sling his coat over a rail. He got as far as “Do you know…?” before realizing William had disappeared, probably back to his room behind a locked door. It wasn’t that much of a surprise, all things considered. He shrugged at Ryland’s look of enquiry and said, “I’ll go call Pete.”
He stopped to key in the launch codes, which was how by the time he got to the radio, Victoria was already lying in wait for him. “So,” she said neutrally, hair swept up and makeup immaculate, one arched eyebrow awaiting an explanation.
Gabe held up both hands in surrender. “I swear, Victoria, I didn’t touch a hair on his head.”
Victoria regarded him for a moment. Then she said, “Your fly’s undone,” and left through the open hatch.
“Fuck,” Gabe said, fumbling with the skipped button on his trousers. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Victoria had questioned him before, on various points, but she’d never made any accusations. Then again, they’d never had a slave on board who was quite so…well. She might have reason, now, to be watching him.
The bell sounded next to the radio console, signaling their departure and emergence into unrestricted space. Gabe flung himself into the chair and hit the auto-dial.
Within seconds, Pete’s face was grinning back at him. “That was fast.”
“We’re on schedule,” Gabe confirmed. “And on our way.”
“I’m sending you a name,” Pete said. “A nice place to make a pit stop. It shouldn’t take you too far out of the way. How’s my present holding up?”
“Proven to be handy in a pinch,” Gabe replied. “Although he’s gotten hold of a pair of scissors, which makes me nervous.”
Pete’s expression sobered. “Jumper?”
Gabe shook his head. “Not even close. Save me a bottle, I’ll tell you the whole thing.”
“I’ve got one with your name on it,” Pete promised, and they both signed off.
The rest of his crew was waiting at the table in the lounge when Gabe reached them. He dropped into his customary chair at the end of the table and was just about to pass along the latest news when he caught a whisper of movement from the opposite archway and saw William watching them.
Gabe propped his chin up on his hand and grinned. “Hi there. Come for dinner?”
William slipped through the archway into plain view before halting again. “If I may.”
Gabe gestured to the sixth chair sitting empty at the far end of the table. “Pull up a chair. You’ve earned it.”
“More than,” Victoria commented, her attention on the dish of mashed peas as she spooned a serving onto her plate. Gabe felt a muscle in his jaw tic, but he didn’t let his smile drop.
William sat, still moving cautiously but coming far closer to all of them than he had since he’d come on board, so Gabe was counting it as a win. It was the little victories that counted, on this ship. He rarely got to see the slaves they rescued years after their liberation, which was all a part of the deal; he reminded them too much of another time in their lives, associated with everything they most wanted to forget.
There was a slightly awkward silence, which Ryland graciously broke by asking, “What’s the news from Pete?”
“What he means,” Nate translated for William as he helped himself to Victoria’s dish of peas, “is what are we doing with all the shit in our cargo hold?”
“And the answer to that,” Gabe declared grandly, determinedly recovering some of his good humor, “is The Butcher.”
William’s eyes flicked to each of them in turn, searching for reactions. “The Butcher?” he echoed.
“It’s a nickname,” Gabe said. “He’s a fence, and one of the best working for our side. He also dabbles in the acquisition of fine art, if you know what I mean. He’ll be able to get us a fair price for our stolen antiquities.”
“He’s a good man,” Ryland chimed in. “We’ve worked with him before.”
“And how,” William inquired carefully, “did he come to be known by such a colorful nom de guerre?”
Gabe’s ears pricked up instantly, trained to spot the little details that people let slip. William was educated, then, or at least raised among the upper class. He wouldn’t have been willing to bet on anyone at this table besides Ryland knowing that phrase.
“It’s a long story,” he replied with a quick smile. “And not one that involves art theft.”
William’s answering smile was guarded, but it reached his eyes, which Gabe was willing to count as another victory. “How very reassuring.”
Gabe was surprised into a short laugh. “Ryland’s the best one to tell it,” he said, glancing over. “I think we’ve got time.”
“Indeed,” Ryland replied, pushing his borrowed spectacles up his nose. “But first, if you please, pass the peas.”
-
The drop went off without a hitch, which was why Gabe was caught off guard when they were twenty minutes out from Butcher’s home base of Sila IV and Alex called out grimly, “We’ve been flagged.”
“What?” It took less than five seconds for Gabe to swing up to the console and read the government-issued warning over Alex’s shoulder. “Why?”
“Fuck if I know, but they’re moving fast. There’s a government schooner on an intercept course.”
“Butcher?” Ryland asked, appearing behind them with one hand on the rungs of the ladder leading to the gunnery tower.
“He wouldn’t sell us out,” Gabe argued. “There’s no way.”
“We were clean when we left the Myrmidons, I swear to fuck,” Alex insisted. “If it’s not us, it’s him. They’ve got to have surveillance up.”
“Fuck,” Gabe said with feeling. “Get word out to Butcher that…shit, nix that, they’re probably monitoring communications.”
“He’ll figure it out fast enough if we don’t check in with Pete,” Ryland pointed out. “Which is looking likely at the moment.”
“Not if I can help it,” Gabe replied. “What are our chances?”
“They outweigh us, outgun us, and out-engine us,” Victoria said, taking up position next to Alex to man the second console. “Slim to none.”
“Like fuck they out-engine us,” Nate called up from the bowels of the ship.
Victoria shook her head. “They’re too close, we won’t make it if we try to run.”
“And they’ll probably just shoot us full of holes,” Gabe commented. “Fine, let’s try not to look guilty. What have we got on board?”
“Nothing, we passed it all off to Butcher,” Alex answered. “The gold, but it’s unmarked, it should be clean. And a bottle of Nerrivik ice-wine, but that’s barely a felony.”
“If they’ve tagged us through Butcher, though, there’s a good chance they already know we look guilty,” Ryland put in.
“If they don’t have proof, the most they can do is charge us,” Gabe began, which was when he saw William lurking nervously in the hallway and the words dried up in his mouth. “Fuck.”
Victoria looked around sharply, following his gaze. “They can’t convict you for anything,” she said, but he could hear the uncertainty in her voice. They didn’t know how much the law had on them at this point, and Gabe only liked taking chances when the odds were in his favor.
“Transfer ownership?” Alex inquired, looking up. “If they only go after one of us, it’s most likely to be you.”
Gabe shook his head, eyes still on William. “There’s no time. Not only suspicious as hell, but we can’t get it notarized, which means he’ll still legally be my property at the time of arrest.”
William’s chin lifted a fraction, defiant even though he clearly still didn’t understand all of what they were talking about. “What’s going on?”
“We’re about to be boarded,” Gabe replied, the taste of the words bitter in his mouth. “And if I’m arrested and convicted of anything, my property is forfeit and seized by the government. Which means you go up for public auction.”
William went five shades paler. Gabe unfortunately didn’t have time or means to reassure him.
“Move the gold,” he ordered. “Get it out of the smuggling compartment, put him in instead. Move the gold in front of it, make it look poorly disguised. There’s a chance they won’t dig further.”
“Slim,” Victoria opined, but she didn’t contradict him. “They’re trying to get us on radio.”
“If they find the gold and figure out where it came from, they’ll have more of a case to make against us,” Alex pointed out. “He, on the other hand, won’t get us into any trouble if he’s discovered.”
“If they tagged us through Butcher, they already know we have something of value on board,” Gabe countered. “And they’ll be looking for it. I’m willing to give it to them without a fuss if it means they stop looking. He’s more valuable.”
“We can make it look like we keep him locked down there,” Ryland suggested. “That way if they do find him, it’s no harm, no foul.”
William flinched away slightly, looking like he was about to run, but Gabe still didn’t have time for him. The radio light was flashing, and the schooner was gaining ground, easing up behind them with guns at the ready.
“Do it,” Gabe said, and Ryland went, motioning for William to precede him down the gangway and wisely not trying to touch him.
“They’ve made it official, we’re to halt our course immediately or they fire a warning shot,” Victoria reported, jerking Gabe’s attention away from the vacant gangway.
“Is there any fucking chance of us getting a message out to Pete?” Gabe asked, plopping himself down into the chair in front of the radio.
“Not without it being picked up by a third party,” Victoria replied, her voice steel and calm.
“Fine. If they cut any of you loose, get to Butcher, tell him to get the fuck out,” Gabe ordered. “Even if they’re on us for some other reason, it doesn’t take much to connect the dots back to him.”
He held up his hand for silence, took a deep breath, and punched the radio button.
“This is Captain Saporta of the Cobra,” he said pleasantly. “To whom do I owe this pleasure?”
A dark-haired, round-faced man in uniform appeared on his screen, with a scrolling direct transfer feed at the bottom of Gabe’s screen authenticating his credentials. “This is Commander Way, badge number one-three-zero-zero-two-five,” the officer announced by way of greeting. “Halt your course and prepare to be boarded.”
-
Gabe had enough time to glance over the haphazard stack of boxes and containers Ryland and Nate had created to disguise their less-than-legal cargo, delete the records of their recent communications, and check his reflection in the sliver of mirror before punching the docking button and preparing to be charming. He could totally be charming. It was practically in his blood.
“Commander Way,” he said with a wide smile (but not too wide; acting genuinely happy to see law enforcement officers would only make them suspicious). “What’s all this about?”
Commander Way took his time looking around the hold before his gaze returned to Gabe. His eyebrows said you don’t know? but Gabe couldn’t very well confess before he knew what they had on him. If it was nothing but suspicion and circumstantial evidence, they might be able to skate.
“Your engine oxidizer is leaking helium,” Way informed him, causing Gabe to blink and very nearly gape at him in disbelief. “Are you aware of this problem?”
Gabe looked at Nate, who was already frowning. “Were we aware of this problem?” he echoed, genuinely at a loss. What he really wanted to say was, that’s what all this is about? but the obvious response to that would be why, what should it be about? and Gabe wasn’t stupid.
“No,” Nate answered. “Helium pressure reads as normal, the engines would have shut down otherwise.”
“Not necessarily,” one of the other officers spoke up - Lieutenant Toro, according to his badge - as he stepped forward beside Way. “There are certain ways to maintain helium pressure even after tampering with the fuel preburner system.”
Nate was starting to bristle already. “Nothing’s been tampered with,” he declared. “I maintain the engines myself. If there’s a leak, it’s a genuine mechanical error.”
“That you somehow missed,” Toro replied, too gently. Nate bristled even further.
“Hey, woah, wait,” Gabe interjected, before Nate could open his mouth and go ballistic, and possibly get them into even more trouble than what Gabe wasn’t already totally sure they were in. “So we have a mechanical problem.”
“A helium leak from the engines obscures your registration code and locator signal,” Way replied. “This particular one has been doing so for at least the past several days.”
“Wait.” Gabe still couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. “So basically what you’re saying is that you boarded us because our taillight is out?”
Way looked blank, which meant that he hadn’t spent enough time on gentrified planets to catch the reference, but Toro snorted. “A helium leak of this type is also a common byproduct of preburner tampering, as I was saying,” Toro informed them. “Which has been known to happen during installation of a jump-start turbopump.”
“Those are illegal,” Gabe said automatically, and then wanted to smack himself in the face. Of course they were illegal, why else would they have officers traipsing around on his ship?
“You know what they are, though,” Toro said. Gabe did, mostly because he’d smuggled one a few months back, but he couldn’t very well say that.
Nate spoke up for him instead. “Yeah. And we know there’s not one aboard,” he replied, folding his arms over his chest.
“You don’t mind if we have a look around,” Way said, and it wasn’t a question.
Gabe swept them a bow, extending his arm toward the hatch leading to the engine room. “Be my guest,” he offered. Nate glared, but he didn’t object, for which Gabe said thankful prayers inside his head. If they could get this over with and send their unwanted visitors off none the wiser, it would be one hell of a lucky break.
Toro spent a lot of time in the engine room, poking at various things, but Gabe knew full well they didn’t have shit down here, so he just kept an eye on Nate, ready to snap the leash if necessary to keep them out of trouble. Luckily, Nate seemed to remember there was more at stake here as well, because he didn’t bite anyone’s head off even when Toro fucked around with the pressure gauges and inspected the controls for the feed line manifold. At least, that’s what Gabe thought it was. As a general rule, he left the engine room alone as Nate’s domain.
“It looks like a genuine mechanical failure,” Toro said at last, and Gabe exhaled, shoulders dropping incrementally as he watched Nate bite his own tongue.
“So that’s it?” Gabe asked, sure there was a catch somewhere he was missing. “It’s just a leak?”
Way puffed up a little bit, his voice hitting an all-new range of high and nasal. “Space pollution is a growing problem,” he said with irritation. “Especially this close to an inhabited space station. It’s not something to be taken lightly.”
“Right, of course not,” Gabe said hastily, trying to sound sincerely concerned and not relieved as fuck. “We’ll get that taken care of right away.”
Way still looked like he had ruffled feathers, but he just nodded shortly. “There should be a mechanic on hand at Sila IV…” he began, when another voice - the third officer, Iero, the one watching the docking hatch - called down, “Gee, you’re going to want to see this.”
Just that fast, Gabe’s stomach dropped into his feet. Way gave him a curious look, and called up, “What is it?” as he started to climb the ladder to the cargo hold.
Gabe was stuck behind Way and Toro, so he couldn’t see what was going on, but he heard it clear enough when Iero said, “Remember that report we got on six crates of stolen gold out of Persephone?”
Gabe exchanged grim looks with Nate, and headed up into the hold. Now it was time to play for real.
“You were snooping around again?” Way asked, with a hint of resignation in his voice.
“You should be glad I was,” Iero replied, and Gabe arrived in the hold just in time to see him pulling William forward out of the hidden compartment. “They also have a stowaway.”
Shit. “Not a stowaway,” Gabe said quickly, stepping forward with his hands up. “Pleasure slave. Legally bought and paid for, registered with the authorities on Jarilo VII.”
Way’s expression darkened, and Gabe watched every chance they had of getting out of this without complication vanish in the space of a second. “I’m bringing you all in for questioning,” he announced, “for suspicion of possession of stolen goods. And that’s better than you deserve,” he added, with a disgusted look at Gabe, “you filthy human trafficker.”
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Gabe said.
“Afraid not,” Toro replied, seemingly apologetic even as he twisted Gabe’s hands behind his back to shackle them. “Captain Saporta, you and your crew are under arrest.”
-
It wasn’t that Gabe couldn’t see the irony in the situation, that he was being held and ruthlessly investigated because the law enforcement officer with whom they’d crossed paths was a liberation sympathizer, because he could. He just really didn’t appreciate it at the moment.
“Where did you get the gold?” Way asked, for at least the fourth time. Gabe hadn’t bothered counting. They’d been circling the same topic for an hour now, in a stale, warm interrogation room on the schooner. Gabe didn’t know if his people were being interrogated as well or just held, but the longer they kept him in here, the more antsy he became. He also didn’t know what the fuck they’d done with William, which was the reason for more than half his twitchiness.
“Found it,” Gabe said, like he had the last three times. “Finders keepers, right?”
“You just happened upon it,” Way said, with a level of sarcasm that would read from planet-side. “That’s your story.” When Gabe shrugged, slouching indolently in his uncomfortable - and small - metal chair, Way said, “That’s bullshit. Were you aware that it was stolen?”
“Not by me,” Gabe said honestly. It wasn’t much of a defense, but Gabe hadn’t been anywhere near Persephone in more than two years, and his ship’s navigation system would back that claim.
“If it wasn’t you, it was your crew,” Way stated. “I can take them down as easily as I can take you.”
Gabe’s eyes narrowed, sharp in a deliberately and deceptively lazy expression. “Do you have any proof to back that up?” he inquired mildly. “Because I don’t think you do.”
“Temperature readings say that gold was flash-frozen within the week,” Way said, attacking from another angle. “Did you melt it down?”
“If I had, and if it had been legal currency or tagged relics, you and I both know there would have been electronic markers mixed in with the metal,” Gabe replied, steepling his fingers on the table at the extent of his chains. “Did you find any?”
“I’m not accusing you of melting down government currency,” Way said. “I’m accusing you of possessing stolen property, specifically six crates of gold bars stolen from the mining facility on Persephone.”
Gabe gave him a tight, sharp smile. “And I’m saying, prove it.”
Way paused for a moment, looking out through the veil-glass lining one side of the interrogation room. “I’ve seen your records,” he said, the tone an attempt at casual that was ruined by the tension beneath it. Now, Gabe thought, they were finally getting to it. “I’ve pulled your ship’s manifest. I know you’ve bought twenty-six slaves within the past two years, and yet you’re only traveling with one.” Way turned around and folded his arms tightly, the gesture more emotional and defensive than confrontational. “Where did the others go?”
This was a topic Gabe had to work very carefully to avoid. He shrugged one shoulder, nice and slow. “They outlived their usefulness.”
“Did they?” Way asked. “Did they outlive anything, or did you kill them once you got bored with them?”
Gabe met his expression head-on and didn’t give him so much as an eyelid flicker. “I’m sure it wouldn’t matter what I did with them,” he said, affecting as bored a tone as possible. “They were my property.”
He knew Way would pick up on the past tense, and sure enough, his jaw snapped shut with an audible click. “You’re right,” Way said tightly. “I might not be able to prove you stole those crates from Persephone, but I can get a chemical match and nail you for possession of stolen property, as well as space pollution and operating a ship’s engine under hazardous conditions. That’s enough to meet the minimum requirements for legal forfeiture of all of your property, including your ship and your latest toy.” Way’s eyes burned with satisfaction. “The body count stops at twenty-five.”
Gabe’s body jerked forward reflexively, his heart rate jumping wildly. “No,” he said out loud. “You can’t.”
“Watch me.” Way tugged on his uniform jacket sharply, knuckles white. “I might not be able to keep you on a prison station, but I can put you there for long enough to save a life.”
“Fuck,” Gabe said. He tried to rise, forgetting for the moment that he was shackled until the chains brought him up short and jerked him back down into his chair. “I don’t give a shit about the gold,” he said honestly. “But if you convict me, he goes up for auction. You know where he’s going to end up from there? It’s not going to be with a bleeding heart like you.”
“I wouldn’t buy another human being,” Way sneered. “And it’s still better off than disappearing after a few months with you.”
Way had him cornered. Gabe had no doubt Way would be able to put together enough of a case to put him behind bars, and if that happened, talking big and getting Pete to post bail wouldn’t save William. William, with his unfettered fucking defiance and his criminally pretty face. He’d bring in a fortune on the right market. And Gabe would never be able to find him a second time.
He had two choices, and one of them wasn’t even an option at all. For the first time since he’d started in this trade, he was going to blow his cover, and he was going to do it on the long shot that it could save one slave.
Gabe blew out a breath. “You want to know why they disappear?” he demanded, pulling forward against his restraints. He sat back, telling himself to calm the fuck down, and took a few breaths. “Shut off the surveillance and I’ll tell you.”
Way looked suspicious now, as well he might, but also intrigued. Intrigued was good. Gabe could work with intrigued.
Way flipped three switches on the wall by the door, and touched a panel that had the surface of the veil-glass shimmering and turning a cloudy opaque. He came back to the table and stood for a moment at the end of it, regarding Gabe. “I’m listening,” he said finally.
Moment of truth. If Way wasn’t actually a liberation sympathizer, if he was onto them and fishing for evidence, Gabe could be risking Pete’s entire operation. If Gabe didn’t tell him, though…if he played dumb, he’d be handing William directly over to the slavers.
Gabe laced his fingers. “They disappear because I don’t keep slaves,” he said; the plainest terms he could manage, without completely trusting that this conversation remained unrecorded. “I buy them, but I don’t keep them. Do you understand me?”
Way was silent for a moment. “You peddle,” he interpreted.
Gabe shook his head slowly. “There are no records of sale,” he said evenly. “You already know that.”
Way twitched like he wanted to be moving, too much emotion bottled up for such inactivity. “Why should I believe you?” he asked. His voice was still laced thoroughly with suspicion, but with something else in there too, Gabe thought. Hope. He wanted to believe it.
Gabe smirked. “I’m traveling with a pleasure slave who’s been in my possession for days, and he’s still registered as a virgin,” Gabe said. Shaking his head, he added, “You’ve seen him. You really think I’d wait so long for that?”
Way’s expression was difficult to read, but he’d started chewing on the inside of his lip, so at least Gabe knew he was turning that over. “He’s worth more in resale value,” Way said. “Do you think I don’t know that?”
Gabe raised his eyebrows. “You already know I don’t sell them,” he pointed out.
Way’s eyes narrowed. “Then you were breaking him in. You were keeping him locked in a cramped compartment under the floor, without access to water or proper facilities.”
“Right,” Gabe said, because he couldn’t very well say, no, we were just hiding him from you. What he could say was, “He was surprisingly clean and well-dressed for someone who’d spent days locked in a small compartment, wouldn’t you say?”
Way suddenly went very, very still. “Assuming I believe you,” he said slowly, “I’m a government officer. If I follow up on what you’ve just told me and find even one of those missing people, you could go to jail for the rest of your life.”
“If you convict me for anything at all, someone else goes missing, back to the slave auctions,” Gabe answered. “It’s a chance I’m willing to take.”
Way chewed on his lip for a moment more. “And your crew?”
Gabe shook his head. “I’m sticking my neck out for me. I’m not giving anyone else up. And they won’t tell you anything.”
Way stood silent for a moment longer before he paced to the door, reached out and flipped the switches on the wall. “The helium leak thing is still a problem,” he said, turning back to face Gabe and holding up the key to the shackles. “I can set you up with a mechanic.”
Gabe tried hard not to just slump across the table in relief, but his hands still shook from the adrenaline when he replied, “That would be much appreciated.”
-
Commander Way didn’t actually escort them back to Sila IV. He towed them all the way around to Sila III, which was nice because it saved them fuel on the journey, and got them bumped up to the first working slot. Gabe had to admit, arriving on the heels of law enforcement did have something going for it.
The dock was run by a no-nonsense, knows-her-shit mechanic named Alicia, and Gabe had to take a second to reclassify the Commander in his head once they touched down inside the enclosed station bay, because Alicia was hitched to none other than Mikey Way.
It had been a few years since the Atlacoya job, but Mikey recognized Gabe as fast as Gabe had recognized him. “Hi,” he said, wiping his hand off on his trousers as he tucked a data pad into one of his coat pockets. “Friends of my brother?”
So that was the connection. Gabe knew enough to be able to translate that sentence into because if you aren’t, then you and I don’t know each other, and he grinned acknowledgement. “New friends,” he answered. “We got flagged for an engine violation coming out of Sila IV, and he was kind enough to give us a lift.”
Mikey bobbed his head. “Cool,” he said, and jerked a thumb back over his shoulder. “I’m just gonna…” he said, silently trailing off into call Pete, if Gabe knew Mikey. And good, there was one of their problems taken care of. Gabe didn’t dare risk checking in with the Commander’s ship practically blacking out their satellite range, but they were overdue and he didn’t like to make Pete nervous.
Alicia and Nate were pissing on their respective turf over by the exhaust pipe when Gabe checked, so he took up residence by the boarding ramp to keep a general eye on things. Their escort hadn’t cleared off when Alicia had started working, so Gabe hazarded a guess that they weren’t out of the hot water yet.
There was another mechanic taking readings, her sleeves rolled up almost to the point of being scandalous, exposing blooms of color tattooed all across her skin. Commander Way - Gerard, if Mikey was his brother, and had Gabe ever heard a lot about him back in the day - was watching her with a goofy little dopey smile on his face, hands in his pockets and suddenly far more sheepish and awkward than a Commander really ought to be.
Iero caught Gabe’s grin and answered it with one of his own, drifting over to lean against one of the support rails, chewing on an anise stick. “It’s cute, isn’t it?” Iero commented, as Alicia’s mechanic passed Commander Way a wrocket tool and he held it like it was a precious treasure, with the jittery nerves of someone about to drop it and bruise his toe in another half-second. Gabe snorted. Iero grinned at him sideways. “I’m not saying we go out of our way to stop ships with mechanical trouble,” Iero confided, the anise stick bobbing out of the side of his mouth as he spoke, “but Gee does tend to perk up when we find them.”
“Lucky for us,” Gabe replied, and Iero smirked.
“Lynz, I’m going down to check the pressure gauges, can you stay here and monitor the leak?” Alicia called, doing a good job of ignoring Nate standing practically on her heels, arms crossed and glowering. Probably, Gabe guessed, at the use of the singular pronoun. As if Nate would ever let another mechanic run amok in his engine room without supervision.
Lynz nodded, pushes up her sleeves another inch, and started fiddling with a device of some sort that involved a dial and a lot of knobs. Gabe saw William lurking around the far curve of the external bulk that was the ship’s engine, taking everything in while staying just out of the way. Lynz spotted him in the next instant, and Gabe saw her mouth quirk up sideways, wry and amused. “You want to come help me with this?” she asked, waving the device around lightly. “I could use a hand.”
William slipped out from his hiding place to meet her, and Gabe barely had a chance to marvel before someone said right next to his ear, “Your guys thirsty?”
Gabe jumped, and held a hand to his heart. “Fuck, M-man,” he said, catching himself just in time with Iero so close and so curious. “You scared the shit out of me. Warn a guy.”
“Sorry,” Mikey said, in a tone that was nothing if not unapologetic. “We have some limonale, I think, if you want.” He scratched his nose. “There’s a lot of us, though, you might have to help me carry it.”
And that, Gabe thought as his skin prickled, was an invitation to speak privately, which meant Mikey probably had news from Pete. “Sure thing,” he agreed, casually pushing off from his slouch against the side of the boarding ramp. “Lead the way.”
He followed Mikey down a zig-zag corridor filled with spare engine parts and knots of cable, through a furnished room that was obviously part of someone’s living quarters into a small refrigeration unit. Mikey shut the door behind them, a soundproof barrier to the outside world, and said, “Pete says hi.”
“Mikey fuckin’ Way,” Gabe said in answer, clasping Mikey in a proper welcoming hug. “The fuck have you been? It’s been ages. And why the fuck didn’t you mention your brother worked the Sila IV beat?”
Mikey shrugged, accepting the hug the way he did everything else, with gracious tolerance. “He moves around a lot. He’s only been here for a few months, since me and Alicia moved. I don’t think he’s ready to settle yet.” His eyes looked softer than Gabe remembered them, clearer without the spectacles he used to wear. “He didn’t arrest you?”
“Nah, I gave him a bleeding heart story and suckered my way out. The bleeding heart story,” he added with a grimace, because he and Mikey had never worked together doing what Gabe did now, but Mikey knew full well what it was Gabe currently did for Pete. “No way around it, so tell Pete to tiptoe lightly around here for a while.”
“He won’t say anything,” Mikey said, with no trace of uncertainty in his voice, like he was stating a fact he’d read in the Encyclopedia Galactica. “He cares too much.”
“Yeah, I figured.” Gabe gave Mikey a searching once-over, remembering stories swapped in the lounge of another ship, a long time ago. “He the reason you got into it, or the other way around?”
Mikey shrugged. “He doesn’t know. I mean, he knows some things, I think, but he doesn’t ask. He says he can’t know. He might not believe in everything the government says, but he’s serious about his job.”
“Then we got really fuckin’ lucky,” Gabe said. “We’ve got a shit-ton of unmarked gold on board, and its disappearance has not gone unnoticed, if you know what I mean.”
“Yeah, Pete said.” Mikey shifted his weight, pulled out the data pad he’d been carrying earlier and started typing. “I can find you a place to ditch it, I think. Gee probably had to report it, even if he didn’t arrest you, and word gets out.”
“Fuck,” Gabe muttered, although it could have been worse, and he should have known that was coming anyway. Gerard could afford to be lenient to a point, but letting them go wasn’t the same as falsifying reports. The last thing they really needed, though, was trouble from pirates once they hit the edge of the Decay ring. “Anywhere we can get full price on short notice, without taking us too far out of the way? I’d rather not take many more detours if we can help it.”
Mikey rubbed his nose again, a gesture Gabe recognized as having evolved from years of pushing his glasses up and having them slide back down again. “Yeah, but you’re not going to like it,” he said. “There’s already a buzz, and most of it’s coming out of Shiva.”
Mikey was right, Gabe didn’t like it, although he really should have seen that coming as well. “I fucking hate going to Shiva,” he said, as conversationally as he could around the sinking pit of lead in his stomach.
Mikey shrugged one shoulder. “There are other places,” he said, still tapping away at his pad, “but they’re all in the wrong direction, if you’re heading back to Pete.”
Which Gabe knew, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. “We are,” he confirmed, looking at the door to the refrigeration unit as if he could see through it to William on the other side. “We’ve got a delivery to make.”
“Yeah,” Mikey agreed neutrally. Then, “Don’t forget the limonale.”
Back in the bay, Nate and Alicia appeared to have hammered out their differences with spanners, or at least drawn lines both of them could live with, since Gabe didn’t see any blood on the deck. The rest of his crew was lounging around talking to Iero and Toro, managing to look casual while Gabe knew for a fact, by the way they all simultaneously glanced at the doorway when he entered, that they were keeping a sharp eye on everything and everyone in the vicinity.
He looked around for William and was surprised to find him not only still helping Lynz the mechanic, but honestly interested, nodding along as she explained something and holding up her dial device whenever she motioned for it. He looked more animated than Gabe had ever seen him when he wasn’t trying to fuck Gabe’s shit up.
Mikey’s brother appeared by his side, still with that dopey look on his face. “She’s good at that,” he said, watching Lynz show William how to do something to the ship’s hull by placing his hands where she needed them. “Drawing people out.”
“So I see,” Gabe answered, amused. Gerard was chewing on his lip again, lost in thought or simply hopeless adoration.
“I think she used to be a slave,” Gerard said finally, quiet enough to be for Gabe’s ears alone. Gabe half-turned toward him, eyebrows raised, but Gerard didn’t meet his gaze. “I can’t ask her, obviously, but, I mean…she says things, sometimes, and she acts…” Gerard gave a little sigh, rubbing at the sleeve of his uniform coat like it was an itch getting under his skin. His voice dropped even lower, forcing Gabe to listen hard to hear him. “And she has scars, on her arms. You can’t see most of them, because of her tattoos, but they’re there.”
“Lots of people have scars,” Gabe replied neutrally. He wondered if this was the reason Gerard was still looking but not touching; if he feared more than rejection.
Gerard sighed again. “Yeah,” he said, so like and unlike Mikey in that moment that Gabe blinked.
He put aside their respective positions - and careers - for a moment and turned to face Gerard fully, resting a hip on the bay wall. “Look, dude,” he said honestly. “I get why you don’t want to crowd her, because you’ve got obligations and shit, but if you respect her, you’ve got to let her make her own choices. It’s part of the whole free person thing, and by taking it out of her hands, you’re not exactly treating her like you think she is one. You get what I’m saying?”
Gerard looked startled, and then thoughtful. “Yeah, I get it,” he answered, his gaze flitting away from Gabe to settle again on Lynz. He glanced back again within a few seconds and added, “You’re pretty good at the pep talking.”
“Yeah, well.” Gabe cracked his neck and let himself look at William. He was nodding again, listening intently, pushing his newly-clipped hair back behind his ear as it seemed determined to fall forward into his eyes.
Gabe cast a critical eye over Lynz and wondered if Gerard might be right. He hadn’t spent enough time with her to know, but she had a certain way of moving that might speak to a past, and the colorful tattoos were as clear a statement of defiance and taking control of her own body as he’d ever seen. Maybe that was why William had warmed to her as quickly as he had, when he hadn’t opened up to anyone else. Maybe he’d sensed the same thing Gerard suspected. It was good for him, anyway, to talk to someone. Maybe she’d get him to relax a little bit, share stories and start to heal whatever wounds he had that he hadn’t let Gabe see.
Hard on the heels of that thought came another. He looked sideways at Gerard sharply as soon as it occurred to him, playing the hunch. “This is a test, isn’t it?” he asked. “You asked her to check him out. See if I was telling the truth.”
Gerard’s twitch of reaction gave him away even before the faint color staining his cheekbones. “It never hurts to be careful,” he hedged. “I could still arrest you if I had to.”
Gabe grinned. “How’m I doing?”
Gerard looked like he was struggling with himself for a minute, but then he shrugged, giving in. “Alicia says he’s not afraid of you. Any of you.”
Gabe snorted. “He’s given half of us black eyes, no fucking kidding he’s not afraid of us.” He ignored Gerard’s curious look in favor of watching William, whose gaze flicked over a moment later, like he’d sensed that they were talking about him. Gabe smiled at him, lazy and harmless, and William got that evaluating expression Gabe knew to avoid up close before looking away again, distracted by Lynz and some piece of electronic machinery.
Gerard’s voice was a study in cautiousness when he offered, “He’s pretty. If you like that sort of thing.”
Gabe did like that sort of thing, as it happened - and he had noticed - but he wasn’t stupid. “He’s off-limits,” he told Gerard, straightening up and casually stretching out, getting ready to go check on the progress report. If they were hitting Shiva, he wanted to do it before too many more people became aware of who was purportedly carrying around six crates of stolen gold.
Gerard didn’t make the comparison, but he didn’t have to; his eyes were obviously on Lynz as he commented, “That’s a bit hypocritical, isn’t it?”
This time, Gabe’s smile had teeth. “It’s a little different. He still has a bill of sale, and that bill has my name on it.”
He could have been imagining it, but he thought Gerard relaxed slightly. “I suppose.”
Gabe rolled his shoulders out. “Ask her out,” he advised. Then he thought for a second and added, “Or have your brother do it, he’s a fuckin’ charmer.”
He saw Gerard’s eyes widen, suspected a few more pieces had just fallen into place, and watched that one casual statement, open to interpretation, seal their freedom.
“Travel safe,” Gerard said. “You might want to stop off along the way, get rid of some of your excess cargo. Added weight just slows a ship down.”
“Already on it,” Gabe assured him, sketching a half-assed salute. He caught Mikey’s eye as he turned - watch your back, expect questions - and laughed short and sharp at Mikey’s answering eyeroll and look of annoyance.
William straightened up when he saw Gabe approaching, but he didn’t move away from Lynz, no guilt or fear in his posture. Gabe just grinned wider.
“Nate,” he called up the boarding ramp. “How’s my ship?”
“Ready to go in five minutes,” Nate called back from somewhere within, accompanied by the heavy clank of metal-on-metal. “You should probably start settling the bill.”
“Right,” Gabe answered, turning around and jerking his chin at the rest of his lazy-ass layabouts. “Cobra crew, let’s roll.”
-
“Shiva,” Alex echoed, in the same tone Gabe could see on all of their faces, unhappy but resigned.
“It’s not far from here, it’s practically on our way, and it’s where the rumor mill got all fired up about unmarked gold coming out of Persephone,” Gabe said. “Until we get rid of that shit, we’ve got a big fucking target on our backs.”
“We know,” Ryland told him, apparently speaking for Alex the way he did sometimes, and vice versa. “We just have strong feelings of dislike for that particular hellhole.”
“Believe me, I’m with you,” Gabe said. “Especially right now.” He was trying not to think too much about that yet, but it couldn’t be avoided forever. At some point he needed to figure out what the fuck they were going to do with William.
“You have a contact?” Victoria asked, crossing her legs. Of all of them, she showed the least sign of being bothered by their current destination. Then again, Victoria knew how to keep things to herself.
“Travis is working on it. He’s heading there as well, should touch down an hour or so before we arrive.” It was the one reassurance he had, and he was grateful for it. Travis and his crew ran in a different direction than most of Pete’s network, but they were solid guys, no question about it. Gabe would rather have them at his back than a lot of the punks he’d worked with in the past.
“Is there a plan?” Ryland inquired, fingers steepled, focused like he always was before a drop like this one.
“Nate and Alex take the cargo to a safe place, somewhere with bruisers in close proximity. If Travis’ crew is there, you meet up with them. Victoria and Ryland are with me, I want the firepower if anything goes wrong. Once a deal is made, they go together to escort you to our buyers. No one travels alone.”
“Except for you,” Victoria remarked, “once we leave.”
Gabe smiled, a little sharp though his heart wasn’t in it. “I won’t be alone,” he told her. “We’re currently a crew of six.”
She searched his eyes, but didn’t comment. He wished he knew what the fuck she was thinking, but it probably wouldn’t be all that helpful anyway.
“Anything else?” he asked, tapping his finger on the table. “We should have three hours, give or take, so it’s time to get our heads in the game.”
That was apparently good enough for Alex. “I’ll plot a course,” Alex said, standing up. Victoria was already on her way out the door, no doubt to start on her makeup. They had a couple of hours yet, but Victoria took her roles very seriously. Nate pushed back a second later, thoughts turned inward from what Gabe could read of his expression. He headed toward the gunnery turret rather than the engine room, and not for the first time, Gabe thanked fuck for Nate. Their security would be double-checked from top to bottom by the time they made contact, which was really all they could do.
Ryland was watching him steadily. Gabe sat back and let him come around to it, which he did soon enough. “You have a backup plan?” Ryland asked, mildly enough.
“Cross my fingers, hope we get lucky, and give everyone guns just in case we don’t,” Gabe answered, tone more flippant than he felt. He knew Ryland wouldn’t buy the act, but it was part of his persona. This close to show time, he needed to start pulling it together. “I’ll come up with something.”
Ryland nodded, and Gabe stood up from the table to head back to their shared crew cabin. He had his own preparations to make.
It was times like this that reputation counted, and his was one of the best - or worst, depending on how you looked at it. He donned a silver tailored suit with the faint hint of scales patterned into the fabric, a burgundy cravat, and enough flashy rings to fit every finger. His walking stick fit itself neatly into his hand when he reached for it, to check both the hidden catch and the sharpness of the blade concealed within. He started to walk out, satisfied with his appearance, and then paused, reconsidering as he remembered the last time he’d handled this particular cane. He opted to leave it just inside the door, where he could grab it again easily before departure.
Then he went to see William.
It took a moment before William cracked open the door to his cabin at Gabe’s light knock, looking surprised and wary, which was fair enough. They hadn’t disturbed his sanctuary since he’d come aboard, leaving him to come to meals or not as he chose. Normally Gabe would respect that throughout the voyage, but these circumstances were slightly out of the ordinary.
His eyes swept Gabe up and down, and Gabe had to repress the urge to strike a pose for William’s visual appreciation. William’s gaze caught for a moment on Gabe’s gloves, the ones he never bothered to wear onboard in their relaxed social setting, and he jumped to the correct conclusion. “You’re going somewhere.”
“We,” Gabe corrected, firm and unapologetic. “We are going somewhere. Shiva. Have you heard of it?”
It was another roundabout inquiry into William’s past, and one that Gabe saw him debating before William finally opened the door another crack and said, “The Underworld.”
“One of them,” Gabe agreed. “This one’s more unpleasant than most. Unfortunately, we need to get rid of some things in a hurry, and Shiva’s the place to do it. I’m here because I need you to come along for the ride.”
“You don’t trust me,” William interpreted, and Gabe couldn’t help flashing him a quick, wry smile. He didn’t, of course, but that wasn’t the real issue.
“Shiva is full of pirates, thieves, and other outer space scumbags,” he informed William. “If anyone steals my fucking ship while we’re down there, they’re not getting you along with it. Not while I’m still breathing. That’s what I don’t trust.”
William considered him for another moment, and then opened the door the rest of the way. “What do I need to do?”
Gabe didn’t push past him into the small cabin; he gestured instead for William to go first, and waited until there was enough room before following behind. “Dress the part,” he answered belatedly, lounging against the wall next to the narrow wardrobe locker. “We can’t disguise that collar around your neck, not down there, so you’ll have to play the role. Ordinarily I’d stop off somewhere and pick up a more traditional pleasure slave costume, but we don’t have the time, and there’s nothing like that on board.”
William’s eyes flicked to the wardrobe, where Gabe suspected the virgin’s brothel tunic had been discarded to the very back of the locker. Then they flicked back to him, and Gabe was thankful he had a different plan, because he suspected he would have had to beat William near to unconscious before being able to wrestle him back into that shift.
“Not that,” he said, smiling slightly. “I’d rather not tempt fate. Or the locals. And you’re a bit too much of a temptation in that.”
William’s guard didn’t go down in the slightest. “What, then?”
Gabe opened the wardrobe locker, after a brief eyebrow-quirk at William for permission, and sorted through until he found what he was looking for. “If we can’t make you look like a traditional slave,” he explained, holding up the silk shirt, “we can at least make you look like you’re mine.”
It was arguably the best in his wardrobe; certainly one of the most expensive. The charcoal trousers he pulled out next were just as fine, and cut to hide very little.
“See Ryland if anything needs to be tailored on short notice,” Gabe offered, hunting through the locker in search of a suitable waistcoat. “He’s good at that.”
When he looked around again, vest in hand, William was holding the clothes up in front of his chest, and Gabe could read what he was thinking all too easily.
“I’ll be outside,” he said, hoping to reassure. “Just knock if you have any problems.”
There was a part of him, although he refused to acknowledge it, that wanted very badly to stay, to watch William undress and drape Gabe’s silk shirt over his shoulders like a second skin. There was a part of him even further down that wanted to place his hands over William’s waist and feel the silk warm as it absorbed his body heat.
“Outside,” he told himself firmly, pacing a few steps down the corridor. He distracted himself by going through the plan again, step-by-step; who would be where and when and what might go wrong.
Then William opened the door again and Gabe forgot all of it.
It was ridiculous to be aroused by the sight of another man wearing his clothes, but there was something primal about it, knowing that William was surrounded by his scent and how the cloth felt against his skin. He told himself firmly to stop staring, and then again when it didn’t work the first time.
The shirt was just the right color for William’s skin, and the vest fit around his waist like a dream. Gabe clasped his hands behind his back to keep from touching and asked, as casually as he could manage, “How do they fit?”
William plucked delicately at his shoulder. “The shirt’s a little…billowy.”
“It does that,” Gabe affirmed, giving in and using the excuse of wardrobe critique to run his eyes over William full-length one more time. “The waistcoat will pin it down, it looks fine.”
More than fine. More like Gabe wanted to start taking it all off again, preferably with his teeth.
“And the trousers…” William began, but with a certain note of resignation that meant he already suspected what Gabe was going to say next. Gabe chuckled.
“Yes, they are meant to fit like that. You look good.” Really, though, there was only so much free rein he could give himself as an excuse for staring at William’s crotch. He pulled his eyes up, and saw William watching him steadily. Busted.
He cleared his throat and said, “There is just one more thing.”
William froze in the act of closing the cabin door behind him, suddenly alert again. Gabe was reminded of a skittish, fleet-footed herbivore abruptly spotting a predator, and hated himself immediately for the comparison.
He drew the thin, shimmering length of chain out of his inside pocket and held it up for William to see. “The planetary law on Shiva states that no slaves are permitted to roam free outside of private residences.”
William stared at him. Gabe didn’t back down or move a muscle, holding his ground until William said slowly, “You want to put me on a leash.”
“Think of it as an accessory,” Gabe offered, but his attempt at levity fell flat in the face of William’s unchanging expression. He offered the clasp-end of the chain up for William’s inspection. “It won’t be locked, you’ll be able to get it off in a hurry if you need to. I’ll show you how to release it.”
William kept staring at him. Gabe supposed the idea of being paraded around on the end of a jewelry chain as private property wasn’t one that made itself particularly appealing. Especially when similar things had undoubtedly happened before, in less playacted circumstances.
He sensed a fight coming on, one that they didn’t have time for, and spoke firmly enough to hopefully head it off at the pass. “I can’t leave you here and I can’t bring you along without this. It’s either the chain or I knock you over the head with something and carry you over my shoulder, but this way seems a lot easier for everyone.”
William held his gaze for another full minute, long enough that Gabe was starting to tense up and think he might actually have to resort to plan B. Then William tilted his chin up deliberately and held it there, granting Gabe access to the collar around his throat.
Gabe stepped in, nearly chest-to-chest in order to manipulate the clasp and ensure that any unexpected pressure wouldn’t pull the collar sideways into its secondary function as a choke-chain. He clipped the leash to William’s collar and drew the gleaming chain through his fingers, barely brushing William’s skin with the backs of his knuckles.
“You can hold onto this for now,” he said, and wanted to smack himself in the face for how his voice sounded, low and gravelly in his chest. William hadn’t broken eye contact, and was currently regarding him far more knowingly than Gabe would have preferred. He didn’t make any move to take the leash, so Gabe coiled it and tucked the slithering length of metal into the side pocket of William’s borrowed waistcoat.
“We have about two and a half hours,” he said, clearing his throat and stepping back, out of William’s personal space. “I’ll see you then.”
He didn’t look back as he walked away, but he could feel William’s eyes on him all the same, all the way to the command bridge.
part three