Bessy whined. “Just saying, Krag. We just got off two weeks of loader duty and I was hoping for some kickback. Jakren promised me a fat raise for good work and helpful suggestions after two years.”
“You’ll get your bonus, Bessy. Be patient. Ain’t no raises for slaves, remember? Only perks, like extra fruit cake on Sunday. Now go feed Fifer. She’s looking mighty peckish.”
Bessy loped away with a jaunty step. The hound bounded after her, its tongue wagging.
“Gotta treat these workers like children,” he whispered to me. “Never get a better worker than Bessy.” He cupped his hands and called back to her, “Give her a good scrubbing while you’re at it. I see mange growing on that back fur.” He turned back to us, blowing air out of his cheeks. “What were we discussing—”
He stopped short. Several of the yardhands catcalled as Deidra came swaggering up with a venomous look and a rifle in her hands. My jaw dropped. How did she... She sauntered up to me, her face flushed and inches from mine, pissed as hell.
I whirled on Marty. “Hey, I thought I told you to lock down the systems?”
“Relax, Rusco.” Deidra chuckled. “Don’t blame your boy wonder. Any two bit hack could figure out how to crack that lock and override the password on the ship’s systems. It’s my ship, remember?”
Kragen laughed. “Well, some mighty fine surprises in that tickle trunk of yours, Rusbo. Any more eye candy hiding back there? I’ll get Zeke and Harl to have a look-see.”
I raised my rifle. “No you won’t.”
His smile grew to an icy leer. “I might take whatever load you’re stashing there off your hands if you throw in the girl for free.”
I stared in disbelief. “No deal.”
Marty huffed. “Why not, Rusco? We don’t owe the girlie anything. You said so yourself she’d ram an ice pick in your ear.”
I curled my lip. “Not how we do things around here, Marty.”
“Oh, don’t be such a chivalrous prude.”
Kragen warned, “If you’re carrying hot goods, Sharki’ll roast you.”
“What are you, all a bunch of pussies?” snarled Marty. “The hold’s full of quality product. Easy for you to peddle it through your contact, Jakren.”
Some of the yardhands stirred with interest. Kragen’s eyes narrowed as he contemplated the deal. “No pussies here. How much you want? 20…30?” After some stares and glares, it looked as if a deal might go through at 22. But an inner voice yelled at me that I could get ten times that amount out in Valdair.
One of Kragen’s grubby workhands tapped him on the shoulder. He jerked around. “Yo, boss, some idgit here to see you. Some greaser the name of Silas.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder.
“What now?” Kragen rolled his eyes. “Thought this was a workplace, not some drop-in joint.”
Deidra sprang to attention. “Silas? Shit, that’s Sharki’s bounty hunter.”
Kragen scowled. “Friend of yours?”
“You could call him that,” I mumbled.
He growled. “You carrying stuff you shouldn’t could get you in trouble. I’ll deal with this. You sit tight.”
He swaggered across the yard and Marty, me and Deidra ducked behind some rusted metal bins. No use ‘Silas’ getting a fix on us. Fortunate that we’d moved the ship to a secluded area.
I caught a brief glimpse of Silas, Sharki’s so-called bounty hunter. Recognized his gunmetal garb. Tall rangy sod with a metal-silver shielding up his left arm, the same color as his boss’s ugly space suit. He and Kragen spoke at length at the end of the yard, waving arms and raising voices. The yardhands stood around, trading dark murmurs.
Strident words drifted across the open space, the air clammy and smelling of swamp stuff like snails and muskeg.
“Their ship trailing smoke was spotted circling around here.”
“Sorry, chief, can’t help you. Whoever they are must be long gone. Try Smilly’s on Barrowfen.”
There were grunts and some more curt words traded then the bounty hunter left. A disc-shaped ship with turbo boosters took off in blue jet blasts and headed toward Tyrone City.
We came out of hiding and brushed ourselves off. “Appreciate your quick cover story,” I said gruffly.
Kragen shrugged. “Don’t mention it. Considering my good deed of the day, how be you give us something too?”
“I told you, you can’t have the woman.”
“Well, if you’re not going to throw her in, how about joining in on some recreation? Winner takes all.”
“Come again?”
“A little friendly yard play. Nothing to wet yourself over. You win, I get Malley do your repairs. You lose, we take your shipment, and the girl.”
Deidra objected strongly to the deal and Marty gave a coarse laugh. I waved them to silence.
“Quite a deal, Kragen. You’re a real regular, all round guy.”
He beamed. “Glad you think of me that way.”
I questioned my wisdom at dropping in on this yard. My fingers flexed around my R4, liking the warm stock and its feel. I toyed with the idea of blasting my way out of here. Not a good plan. Our ship was disabled and we were outnumbered. They all seemed to carry only knives and workman’s tools, yet—
“Put that blaster down.”
Before I knew it rude hands were groping me from behind. What the— Didn’t hear them coming. Two rag-bearded fellows, all grins. Someone snatched Marty’s weapon and as quickly, Deidra’s. Like pros, these weasels.
Now we were even more outnumbered.
“That’s better,” Kragen rumbled. “A more even playing arena. Don’t like strangers with guns in my yard.”
“I still don’t get—”
“I mean—you against me. Ratchets, Dongels, Hammers, Gongs. You pick.”
So, have some sport with the pigeon Rusco. Gain a few laughs and some points with the buds. Okay, I could run with it—old boy throwback tried and true. A bait and impress your yard-dog followers with a trick.
“Ratchets.” I
