He placed it on the table in front of her. It was a small silver rectangle.
“What is it?” she asked.
“It’s a good-luck piece. Davitrian. Ancient. The legends say that it has so much luck in it, it could suck up all the power within a nine-meter radius.” He laughed. “Perhaps its luck will rub off on you.”
She stared at the thing. It was no more ancient than she was. It was cutting-edge technology. And from what he was saying, it would temporarily knock out all electrical systems within ten meters. She wanted to ask him where he’d gotten it, but she couldn’t. If he knew what he was giving her and she knew what she was receiving, it would make them both criminals. Not that she wasn’t already one, technically, but there was no reason to bring him along for the ride.
“Thank you. I could use some luck.”
He smiled, and the light in his eyes showed amusement at their subterfuge. “And you deserve it.” He started to bow, but caught himself. “I’ll work on the bowing thing.”
She gave him a deep bow, far more than a PAC officer would ever give a shopkeep. “It’s my honor, Cabot. You’re a good friend.”
He looked surprised, then pleased, and finally he reverted to his benign, pleasant expression. “Whatever I can do.”
“One of these days, we’re going to have a very long talk.”
He laughed as he showed her out.
She finished her rounds with a sense of contentment. The exchange with Cabot probably shouldn’t have mattered to her, in the grand scheme of everything she was trying to do, but it did. It was nice to have a friend.
When Fallon finished her duty shift, she still struggled under the burden of not having discovered Colb’s plans. Rather than brood over events she couldn’t control, she allowed herself to feel a moment of serenity in the eye of the storm. The next phase would happen when it happened, and when it did, she’d be ready.
Since her last task of the day had taken her to Deck One, Fallon stopped by the Bennite restaurant. She cradled a warm bundle of stew and bread as she walked to the lift, looking forward to a quiet evening in her quarters.
Until she saw Wren waiting for her.
“Hi,” Fallon said, not knowing what to expect.
“Hi.” Wren twinkled with playfulness.
Since Wren just stood there smiling at her, Fallon asked, “What’s up?”
“I thought I’d catch you at the lift to see if we could have dinner, but you already have that covered.” Wren’s gaze bounced down to the package Fallon held and back up.
“Sorry. Maybe tomorrow?”
“How about I grab some takeout of my own and meet you at your quarters?”
Peregrine might be there, but Fallon didn’t mind that. She tried to think of some other reason to decline, but couldn’t. “All right,” she finally agreed.
“Great! I’ll meet you there in a few minutes.” Wren turned to go.
“Actually, I’ll wait here for you. That way you won’t need a temporary passcode for Deck Four.”
“Great. I’ll be right back.”
Fallon’s food would stay plenty warm, so she didn’t mind waiting. But she wondered what Wren wanted. Not that she had to want something. Fallon still had no handle on where they stood with each other. She leaned against a bulkhead with her dinner warming her chest and her arms, trying to figure out how to approach the evening. Like a date? Like a get-together with a pal? She had no tactical plan.
Within minutes Wren was back, holding her own bundle of food. “Let’s go! I’m starved.”
“Busy day?” Fallon asked as they rode the lift up.
“Oh, that doesn’t even begin to cover it. I had to interview mechanics via the voicecom. I talked to eight people and though they all seemed decent enough, none of them is half as good as Josef. He and I work so well together. He’s one of those coworkers that you can’t replace, you know?”
Fallon shifted the food she carried and leaned against the lift wall. “I saw the report that he was leaving. Where’s he headed?”
“He’s got a job as a private mechanic on Caravon, working on the personal vehicles of a super-rich person. He’ll be on call at all times, but for the most part, he’ll just be keeping the newest models shiny. A huge salary for not much work. Living on Caravon will be no hardship, either.”
The lift doors opened to Deck Four. “You could get a job like that,” Fallon said as she led the way to her quarters.
“And be bored out of my mind? No thanks. I like the tough cases. Like the assembly block I was working on after the interviews.”
Fallon keyed in her credentials to unlock the door. “Taking out your frustration on an innocent engine?”
Wren laughed as she followed Fallon in. “Absolutely.” She glanced around, saw the table on the far side of the room, and sent Fallon a questioning look.
Fallon nodded, moving toward it. She noticed Wren taking stock of her new digs, but trying to be subtle about it. “I hope you’re feeling better now that the interviews are done.”
“Some.” Wren pushed her package onto the table and took a seat. “I thought having dinner with you would take the remaining edge off.”
Fallon unwrapped her bread and opened the container for her stew. “I wasn’t aware that my presence was particularly soothing.”
Wren smiled. “It’s not. But you always manage to make me forget about work stuff.”
“Do I?”
“It’s one of the things that’s always attracted me to you.” Wren opened her lightweight recyclable container and speared a vegetable from her sauté with her fork. “You fill a room with your presence and make it entirely impossible to ignore you. You give everything weight. Like this dinner. Just having this meal feels like something significant.”
“I never knew you felt that way.” Fallon put a spoonful of stew in her mouth and sighed as the rich flavors spread
