“Retired to start a peanut farm,” Kinsley said.
Jan scowled at her. “Peanuts don’t grow on Ceto.”
Kinsley blew out another stream of colorful smoke. “I didn’t say it was a successful peanut farm.”
“So who’s left?” Jan resisted the urge to stomp his foot. “Literally every bounty hunter we’ve ever worked with is dead, retired, or—” he worked his jaw “—breeding peanuts.”
“There’s always Marq—” Pollen started.
Jan’s death glare shut her up. “No.”
“He’s available,” Kinsley added. “Came to see me the day before you did. He’s in Duskdale for another week.”
“Absolutely not,” Jan said.
Kinsley crossed her arms. “You’re letting your personal prejudice against a possible ally complicate a difficult task.”
“Prejudice is a strong word,” Jan said. “We all know that hiring Marquis will make this job more difficult, not less.”
Pollen smirked his way. “You guys do it?”
“Marquis is not an option,” Jan said firmly. “Anyone else will offer us a better chance to find Bharat in time.”
“There’s only one other bounty hunter available in Duskdale right now.” Kinsley stared into space, browsing AR screens. “He’s completed three jobs, failed four, and apparently calls himself the Swamp Knife.” Kinsley swiped her AR screens away. “What do you suppose makes a knife swamp-specific?”
Pollen thumped her fist into her palm. “We should hire Marquis. If anyone can track down Bharat for you, he can.”
Jan scowled at her.
“Once you’re in a coma,” Kinsley said, “we’ll just hire Marquis anyway. What’s six wasted hours going to change?”
Jan shook his head, compelled by the pressure mounting from their stares. “We’ll find someone else.”
“Show of hands!” Kinsley raised her free hand. “Who votes we hire Marquis right now?”
Pollen fixed Jan with an apologetic frown, then raised her hand. The door hissed open, and Emiko chose that moment to wander in, balancing four beers in two hands. Her gaze swept the room.
“What are we voting on?” she asked brightly.
Jan huffed.
Emiko’s beers shot up. “I vote yes too!”
“Three to one,” Kinsley said. “Majority rules.”
“We are going to regret this,” Jan informed everyone. “Very, very much.”
“Ah, Marquis isn’t so bad,” Pollen said. “I like his little vocalistic flourishes. It’s like poetry, yes?”
Emiko set down their beers. “It really isn’t.”
Kinsley glanced hopefully at Emiko. “You really don’t mind paying for a bounty hunter?”
“No, it’s fine.” Emiko shrugged. “I always end up paying for everything anyway.”
Marquis accepted emiko’s contract to find bharat one hour later, which was long enough to let Jan hope he wouldn’t take it, but still quick enough to annoy Jan when Marquis did. Marquis did, of course, request an in-person meet to finalize the details, because he was an insufferable ass who insisted on doing everything the most complicated way possible. At least Emiko respected Jan’s wish to leave his name out of it.
The sun had just grazed the horizon when they emerged from the Hole. Kinsley didn’t allow people to finalize bounty contracts in her home, so Emiko and Marquis had settled on a somewhat neutral location: the Greasy Bowsprit, in the Sledge. Pollen, naturally, was absolutely thrilled.
“Tiana is going to be so happy to see you,” Pollen gushed, once the four of them were piled in an autotaxi and cruising one of Duskdale’s bumpy roads. “She will make pancakes. You come home from orbital prison, Tiana Johnson makes pancakes. Those are the rules.”
“I could go for some pancakes,” Emiko agreed.
“Not from Tiana,” Jan warned. “I don’t trust any food that woman cooks herself.”
Pollen poked his gut. “That’s because you are picky eater. Bowsprit food is good for the constitution. Builds resistance!”
Kinsley’s brow quirked. “To what?”
“Everything!” Pollen and Jan declared together.
Jan couldn’t help but chuckle at their old, shared joke. He had missed his family while he was away. He had missed everyone, including Tiana. If only stupid Marquis wasn’t waiting for him, he might actually risk some artery-hardening pancakes.
The four of them passed the thirty-minute drive to the Sledge in companionable silence, trusting the autotaxi’s networked AI to get them there by a route that efficiently avoided traffic. Jan half expected the autotaxi to balk when it hit the Sledge’s perimeter, where it had to snake around not one, not two, but three derelict vehicles. It kept going. This automated taxi was braver than most.
Jan half expected Marquis and his stupid body armor to be standing stupidly on the curb outside the Bowsprit, but the only folks in the street were two big men wearing bright gang colors. They whistled leeringly the moment Emiko, now wearing sensible slacks and a black tank top, stepped out of the autotaxi.
They stopped whistling when Pollen emerged from the taxi, wearing her thick and expensive body armor. One glance from her sent them scurrying down the street.
“Old friends?” Kinsley asked, as she hopped out and surveyed the devastation. She was now dressed in street clothes, a dark blouse, slacks, and boots, and carried only her backpack, but that innocuous bag held her best drone jammers.
Pollen quirked her lip as one of the fleeing figures tripped over a trash can a block down the street, then scrambled up. “No.” The man limped mightily as he fled.
Jan emerged as well, then slapped the autotaxi’s roof. Having already processed Emiko’s payment, the vehicle smoothly closed its doors and took off faster than taxis normally did. Jan wished it luck on a successful escape.
Kinsley stared at the mess of rocks and rebar across the street from the Bowsprit, a pile fronting a big biocrete building that wasn’t open anymore. “I haven’t been down here in years. When did the entry to the maglev terminal collapse?”
“Controlled demolition,” Pollen said. “The rest of the city did not want the riffraff freely spreading to other parts.” She shrugged. “Tiana’s expecting
