“What’s that?”
“Cinnamon cardamom rollies. He loves that shit.”
Kira smiled at her. “Well, thank you, Lhi.”
“Uh huh. Say hello to your mom and dad for me—and I’m hoping to see you soon. Real soon.”
As we left the café, I asked Kira, “What was that all about?”
“Nothing.”
“It didn’t seem like nothing.”
“She’s a friend.”
I felt a flush of jealousy. “Fine.”
“Hey, the past is the past. Okay?”
“You lovebirds should just kiss and make up,” TenSix blurted. “We have to focus on getting out of here.”
Docking Bay 49 was a private launch pad, partially sunk into the ground, and ringed with a tall blast wall. We entered through a low access tunnel on street level which ran down a gentle ramp into the docking bay. A half-disassembled Wexler MoonRunner XLT stood propped up on repair struts on one side of the pad. Mech tunnels and storage bays ran around the perimeter. But other than the shuttle, the place looked empty.
“Anyone home?” My voice echoed throughout the bay.
“There’s an office.” TenSix swiveled towards one of the tunnels. “Someone’s in there.”
I led the way towards the office. “Hello?”
“We’re closed,” said a voice. It was old and weary-sounding.
“Are you Caebach?” I asked.
“Maybe. Who wants to know?”
“Someone who’s willing to pay for a little assistance,” Kira said.
I heard the man mutter a curse under his breath. “Wait outside. Need to clean myself up a bit.” He chortled a string of laughs which broke down into wheezes.
Back out on the pad itself Kira said, “Well I, for one, am encouraged.”
“You serious?” I drained the last of my moxa. It was fantastic.
“No. He was jerking off back there.”
Charming.
The man who emerged onto the tarmac ten minutes later was easily as old as my uncle Wallace, but grizzled and slovenly, with a big paunch stretching his soiled overalls. His eyes were sunken into his soft face and ringed with dark circles like he had been awake for three days straight.
“You kids looking to buy some bulk parts?” Caebach asked.
“No, we’re looking for transport to the TSS,” Kira said.
“Yeah, I don’t got time for that. I need to deal with all my shit here.”
“But you’ve got a shuttle that can make the trip?” I asked.
His eyes narrowed. “Maybe.”
“My friend Lhiana Jowe said you might.”
“Lhiana, huh?”
“She told us to give you these.” I handed him the white paper bag.
His eyes lit up when he saw what was inside. “Hot damn! I thought she had run out of cardamom!” He turned and headed back towards his office.
“Hey!” I called after him. “What about the shuttle?”
“Come back in three hours.”
“Surely it won’t take that vulgar gentleman three full hours to eat his pastries!” TenSix said.
“No, probably not,” Kira said. “All the same, let’s get out of here—before I stick to something.”
We decided to walk over to GK Municipal to check on the sled and also see what the deal was with normal flights offworld. But it turned out that Lhiana was right. There were just six passenger flights per day and they were booked solid for weeks.
After double-checking that the sled hadn’t been touched, we made our way to one of the terminal lobby areas to try to regroup and figure out what to do. On the way we passed several Mayir security patrols, clad in their crimson armor and toting Honig-Platt particle carbines. Maybe they were here making sure no non-humans entered the city. Although the arrivals section was completely empty. It didn’t look like anyone was landing in Ganga Kos.
“Maybe Caebach will come through,” Kira said. “He had a lot of junk in there.”
“Maybe. Or maybe it was a bum lead.”
“What?”
“How well do you know Lhiana?”
“Pretty well. I trust her, if that’s what you are asking. She wasn’t just trying to get rid of us.”
Maybe not us. Maybe just me. I decided to change the subject. “Well, it doesn’t make sense that we’re the only ones in Ganga Kos who don’t have a reservation for a flight out. Does it?”
Kira shrugged. “No idea. I mean, there could be other people back from out in the field. Miners. Archaeologists. Who knows?”
“I saw a bunch of small craft take off while we were walking around. There’s a lot more traffic than six ships a day.”
“Freighters, like Lhiana said.”
“Well, if this Caebach guy flakes, maybe we try to book passage on a private freighter.”
“Not a bad idea. If we can find one.”
“Is there Squirrel here?”
“What?”
“Squirrel. Or some other classifieds site. Orbitly. Valist.”
“I have no idea.”
“Can you call Lhiana?”
“Yeah. Get us something to drink while I check on this? I think there was an open canteen near where we came in.”
I held up my empty wrist. “No Aura. No way to pay.”
“I can pay,” TenSix said.
“Really?”
“Of course. I have access to a credit account set up for me by Professor Griffin.”
I turned to Kira. “In that case I’ll meet you right back here.”
“Sure.” She popped a leptic stick in her mouth and started flicking through her Aura.
“Let’s go, my little benefactor,” I said to TenSix.
We backtracked through the sad-looking passenger terminal. Most everything was closed—dumpling stands, moxa carts, outfitters, záwùs, revival booths. It was too bad; there were a fair number of people waiting in the departure lounge. They all had to eat or drink.
The guy at the canteen seemed happy to see a paying customer and he didn’t even balk when a bot paid for our iced teas and cookies.
“Thanks, TenSix. I’ll be able to pay you back once I get in contact with my company. And they set me up with some temporary ID.”
“It’s my pleasure, Jannigan Beck. Although, sadly, I don’t believe it will be necessary to reimburse Professor Griffin.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You know that I’ve been running scenario trees since we left the Rhinobo Basin, right?”
“No.”
“Well, I have, and even though the inputs are highly speculative, a relatively high number of scenarios have come up with the determination that Roanna Griffin—and indeed all of our research team—are deceased.”
“Define
