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data chip.”

Too clever by half.

Or perhaps not. She raised a single finger to summon the same steward she’d spoken to earlier. “Excuse me, I’ll return in a short while. There’s something I must do. Enjoy your ice cream and insects.”

She stood with a faint smile as the steward approached and nodded to the door where she wanted him to lead her. Once outside in the corridor, and out of the hearing range of Fang and Bill, she said, “Comm room, as quickly as possible.”

The steward broke into a trot to show he was earning his tip. In truth, there is a limit to how fast a person can trot down a hallway only eight meters long. But he tried.

He pulled up at a door, twisted the handle, and held it open for her to enter. She said, “Not a word as to where I went, especially to those I was with. Stand out here until I’m done, please. My generosity depends on it.”

Inside a nervous creature with at least two active minds, eight legs, and a pair of fighting claws, as well as several small manipulators, watched her warily. It was not a crab, strictly speaking, but more closely related to a scorpion, although not one of Earth origin. It was of a solitary race known as Champers, often found of starships.

When together, they communicated with each other with clicks, pops, and crackles. Because of multiple minds in the same carapace, it was similar to a symbiotic relationship. Only one Champers slept at a time, so they worked around the clock in shifts, with at least two remaining awake always. They were perfect for navigation and communication duties and needed two-thirds fewer bodies for the ships to pay. A standard voice-box hung from its reddish-brown carapace. “May I be of service?”

“A sub-space message.” They were horribly expensive, but before she continued bargaining with Fang, she needed to know the Guardia was not in trouble before she went any further.

“Expensive,” the crab said as it flipped switches and readied the equipment.

“Text only. Reply required.”

The crab repeated her instructions although the conversation was also recorded to settle any disputes. With the enormous cost of sub-space messages using quantum routing, which implied the message would be received before it was sent, the ship had every right to require payment in advance.

The door to the comm room opened and the steward she had left on guard duty at the door, the one that now refused to make eye-contact, carried Fang inside.

Fang noticed her scowl at the steward. “Come now, Captain it’s not his fault that I promised him a larger tip than you. Just business.”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Preventing you from making a serious error. Steward put me down next to a wall where nobody is likely to step on me—and depart to your door-guard duty and this time, do not allow anyone inside or I will remove an appendage of yours at my choice.”

The door closed with the three of them inside the comm room.

Stone said to Fang, “This is confidential business. Get out.”

“Not yet,” Fang growled menacingly. “You cannot use your credit accounts, I suspect. The tickets you bought for passage on this ship have no doubt been traced to your account, probably by the DNA you left behind when in disguise and searching for Kat. Using those accounts will confirm to the authorities that are aboard this ship. For that reason alone, you must refrain.”

“Roma is not going to be that upset at the money I took them for. In a day, they take in far more than that.”

“You opened the door to similar fraud avenues for others to use. In response, they posted a modest reward, and they already suspect your end destination is Escobar Habitat but are not certain. Using your account will tell them all they need. There will be agents, police, military, and bounty hunters awaiting our landing on Franklin if you use your account to pay for the transmission you wish to send. I also assume your account has been frozen and the charges will ultimately be rejected.”

Stone watched him closely. How had he accumulated so much, and so accurate information about her in such a brief time? She said, “Your suggestion if you have one?”

“Use my data chip. I’ll authorize it for a modest usage fee to be paid later.”

Fang might be correct. He probably was. Fang hadn’t asked nearly as much of a fee as she expected, but he didn’t offer to do it for free, either. She nodded her agreement. The comm tech verified the charges on Fang’s account and turned to her with a question about the message. Stone gave it five random letters for sending. Nothing else.

“That is the entirety of the message? Adding a few thousand more words will not change the cost of the transmission.” The crab spoke flawlessly through the voice box.

“Just that. Those five letters.”

The crab went to work.

In less than a standard tenth of time, a single sheet of paper appeared from a slot. Stone glanced at it and her heart sank. Three letters. Random. They meant nothing in themselves, but the underlying code was that any five characters on the return message meant things were well on Guardia. Seven, said minor problems were routinely being handled, no worries.

But three. Any three random letters. Like the old SOS code. The Guardia was in trouble. Three meant serious trouble. It was a preplanned code only she would understand.

Fang had been correct.

She wondered what else he knew. . ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER NINE

 

Kat

I considered changing my name again this morning. Kat is not really who I am. Even the spelling was wrong. Nobody on the ship knew me, except for the three I

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