Unity by Elly Bangs (free e reader txt) 📕

that rattled in the throbbing noise: knowing now that Medusa Clan considered me its property. Knowing what he’d be getting himself into if he helped me escape. He said only, “Sounds nice.”

In the corner of my eye, Naoto gave me a subtle nod to signal that the leg-breakers didn’t appear to be coming for us yet. So far so good.

“It’s too bad that even with a ceasefire, security will stay tight for a while,” the mercenary said. “Long waits. Invasive luggage searches.” Translation: will you be smuggling anything besides yourself?

“I travel light,” I replied. “All I need is a good travel guide. The kind that can take me far off the beaten path. Keep me out of harm’s way.”

He took in another mouthful of smoke. “Smart. Especially if you end up in a seat with no extra legroom.” Likely translation: will you be content to make your unsanctioned exit in the usual way, i.e. stuffed inside a deuterium drum and clenching an O2 cannister between your knees?

“Yes.”

“Anything you want to steer clear of, besides . . . work?”

There was no code for my answer. How could I explain the Keepers, here and now? My pause drew out dangerously long before I swallowed and said “Evangelists.”

His eyes never left the video panes, but I could sense his attention like a faint, chilly wind. Finally he said “I was thinking of taking a trip myself. What’s a good getaway this time of year?”

“Oh, I . . . I couldn’t say.”

“There must be some specific sights worth seeing.”

I worried about refusing to tell him where I was going, but I worried a lot more about the next detail: “I have tickets to a show. The problem is . . . it’s at dusk on the equinox. Only three days from now.”

The mercenary didn’t respond.

I cleared my throat and continued. “Which means I’ll need to be on my way by tomorrow night, I think, at the latest. No matter what, I absolutely have to reach my destination within three days. After that there’s no point in going at all.”

He nodded, but I sensed something wrong. His icy composure waned for a moment.

“What do you think? Do you think I can make it there by showtime?”

“Yes. Tomorrow. That’s probably a good time.”

I couldn’t help the suspicion that a mere twenty-four hours was too long a wait for him, but it went against all the sense I had about a negotiation like this. And why hadn’t he brought up his price? I was afraid to wonder what could be going on now behind all those fine scars. I shared a forced smile with Naoto and carefully ventured, “A vacation can be expensive these days.”

The mercenary sighed. “Can be.”

“I’ve put away some money for it. I want to use it all. However long it’ll last.”

“How much?”

“Nineteen thousand Epak squid. It’s all I have with me, but if it’s not enough, I’ll have more once I get there. Wealthy family.”

He shook his head. “It should be enough.”

I tried not to look stunned; I’d braced for him to ask for at least fifty thousand more upon arrival. I swallowed hard and said, “I should go pack, then. But . . . are you still thinking about traveling too? Maybe we’ll run into each other along the way.”

“It’s a small world.”

I never saw him put it there, but I noticed a paper napkin on the table in front of me, folded in half, indented with writing. I shoved it into my pocket.

“Let’s go already,” Naoto told me through a forced smile.

I took one last look at the mercenary to stare at something hanging from a string around his neck. Fine, twisted metal, glittering through the shadows we left him in.

We kept our heads down the whole way back to the elevators. My mind raced to think I’d actually gotten away with it: bought myself a trip out of this sweltering hole in the ocean without the Medusas knowing.

As if on cue, I felt the hand close around my shoulder.

He loomed over me, his face a mask of tattoos, two silver rings punched through his jaw: a Medusan lieutenant. One of Duke’s own men. He held his shard in my face to ask, “Who is this?”

Naoto hung back, watching in horror. My heart seemed to stop. I forced myself to look, certain I was doomed—but the image in the glass wasn’t the mercenary. It wasn’t anyone I’d ever seen. Pale, bald, with a blue corporate tattoo on his right cheekbone.

“I said, who is this man?”

“I don’t know,” I said, sincerely. “No idea.”

The lieutenant studied me. “He’s been asking for you. Five times this week. He keeps coming around the elevators, wanting into the barracks module. Won’t identify himself.”

In the crowd behind him, Naoto visibly braced himself and reached for something in his pocket. I managed to furtively glare at him and shake my head.

The Medusa added, “If this man comes around again, who knows what will happen to him.”

“Who knows,” I agreed, and managed to hold myself upright until the elevator doors closed, leaving Naoto and me blessedly alone.

“What the hell was that?” he asked. “Were we made?”

“I don’t think so.” I opened the now sweat-stained napkin note with a shaking hand. Inside was a shard address, a bank account number, and the words 1800 HRS, AIRLOCK 38. I sighed with mixed relief and said, “I think this might actually work. What about your scans in the bar? Did you get a clear read on our merc?”

He plugged his shard into the scanner clipped to his belt. Holographic light danced through the glass in his palm.

“Crystal,” he said, but his eyes narrowed.

“What is it?”

“There’s a beast of a wave rifle tucked under that baggy coat of his, plenty of electromag armor and energy storage in the lining, knives, odds and ends, but . . . he has no cybernetics. None at all. Not even an aim-assist.”

“Are you sure? Nothing? Could he have tricked the scanner?”

“There’s no tech in that man’s body.