But stealing from Aurelians? From the haughty, seven-feet-tall aliens who consider themselves the arbiters of civilization and order in the universe? That’s far too risky – even for a man like Darr.
My thieving has never led to me getting caught – not by a human, at least – and even if I did get caught, what’s the worst they could do to me? A beating? A few years in the cells?
But if an Aurelian caught me stealing… It’s a different situation entirely.
Aurelians take law and order seriously – and their ‘justice’ for simple thievery is a minimum fifteen-year sentence in one of their detention centers.
For an Aurelian, fifteen years is the blink of an eye. Their species live for thousands of years. But for a human? A fifteen-year sentence – since Aurelians don’t believe in parole, or early release – would have me behind bars until I am thirty-five.
I’d wear the scars of a shameful, public lashing long after I’m released.
Aurelians have harsh laws – often worse than the crimes they’re meant to punish. Though this planet, Deemak, is independent, the Aurelian Empire have long since negotiated that crimes against their own species, committed on-world, would be tried by Aurelian courts and justices; and sentences handed out as such.
That means the penalties for crimes against Aurelians are much worse than for equivalent crimes against the human people of this world. It’s disgusting, really – almost as if there are two tiers of society on this world – but our King, Ranmeer is more than happy to allow it if it means luring more Aurelian merchants and visitors to our world; their pockets laden with Aurelian credits to spend.
Even as I accuse him of playing with me, I give Darr the side-eye. I nurse my drink, trying to tell whether or not this is one of his cruel tricks. Darr isn’t much of a prankster, and his eyes are so dead-set and dull that I fear the worst. He doesn’t have even the hint of a smile on his face; and on the rare occasions he does crack a joke, you can normally spot his shit-eating smirk before he’s even got to the punchline.
Fuck. This means he’s serious.
“Darr,” I warn him, “we can’t. Aurelians can smell your emotions. They’re going to see right through this little maid trick of ours – and that’s if I can even get into one of their mansions in the first place!”
Our ‘maid trick’ scheme was simple. I pretended to be a maid for hire – and until now, I’d been hired by a series of Sector 2 families. Down on their luck nobles who used to live in Sector 1 and up and coming business men eager to make the jump to the highest echelon of Deemak society.
We’d screened the families ahead of time to ensure their hiring screening was lax, and that the families themselves were too busy to pay too much attention to their maids or servants. That made stealing from them easy.
Once I was in the employ of a targeted family, I’d work for them for two or three weeks – not a long time, but long enough to earn their trust. Then, during that period, I’d scout out a specific high-value item that was small enough for me to sneak out after work one day in the future.
During those weeks of prep time, Darr would line up a buyer for the object we’d identified – so on the day I finally walked the merchandise out of the family’s home, we could go straight to the buyer and be all set to get paid.
Of course, whoever you can find to buy the stolen merchandise pays cents on the dollar and Darr always took the largest percentage of the profits – despite me doing all the work.
Like, literally – I’ve become pretty good at house-cleaning just to maintain my cover.
But money is money, and my earnings are currently accumulated safe and sound beneath the floorboards of my room. One day, I’m hoping they’ll take me to Oasis… or beyond.
As I’m sitting there, Darr reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a bag of coins. He tosses them to me casually.
The heavy clink of the bag on the wooden table draws glances from all the cutthroats and thieves gathered in this sketchy establishment. It might be an exaggeration to say that any of them can smell money – but they can certainly hear it.
I don’t have to worry about them, though. Everyone knows I’m under Darr’s protection – and for all his sins, he’s not a man anybody would be eager to cross. Darr doesn’t care that the killers and thieves in this bar see me receiving the money.
He wants them to see it, so I feel like I need his protection even more.
As the eyes around me return to their drinks, I take the bag and pull open the drawstring.
I peer in, and it’s as if the dull, heavy coins are poisonous. This heavy bag represents my cut of the last job – and accepting these coins seals an unspoken agreement between Darr and I that I’ll take his next job, too.
I place the coins back on the able. They just sit on the table between us. It’s so tempting to grab the bag of coins and secure them in my jacket – but that’s not a decision to be made lightly.
“Darr,” I warn, “you can’t steal from Aurelians. They can smell what you’re thinking – and you know what the penalties would be...”
Penalties for me. Darr isn’t the one dressing as a maid, infiltrating a household – or putting his ass on the line to sneak out with the valuables…
“I’m not just facing a beating for this, Darr – or even the two to three years the Royal Guard sentence for first time thieving.” I look up into Darr’s cold, cruel eyes. “You steal from an Aurelian,
