Pixie Hazard by Archibald Bradford (top young adult novels .txt) 📕

dressed in a dingy looking robe had caught sight of the new people and his eyes lit up as he scampered towards them.

“Excuse me, have you accepted the Lord into your heart?”

“Only thing allowed in our hearts is ice-cream and bacon. Now piss off.” Donnie pushed past him without making eye contact.

He smiled beatifically at her rejection as the others quickly followed her up a short flight of stairs from the docking berths to the promenade.

“Abraham loves you, even when you spurn him!” He called after them; “Know that if you accept his love he will carry you away from the sinful stars and home to Eden!”

The Coalition of Abraham was the last vestige of religion left from Old Earth, clinging to mouldy books long since forgotten by mainstream culture.

They were not a popular bunch.

Once in the hub of the station Donnie set her crew loose with fairly straightforward orders:

“Stay out of trouble you lot.”

She stalked off into the guts of the station to meet up with some contacts that might be able to help her offload the transport, leaving them to it.

Save for Eva, who had been something of a ghost since her argument with her sister a few days prior, the others paired off in search of food or entertainment: Maria with Bryan, Eniella with Davie, and Kyle with Bunny.

The K’or-Macka was on a mission, and her husband would do anything to help her see it through.

His wife had decided that the delicious fish she had fed the crew was worth more than she had paid for it.

Chapter 23:Special Delivery

Larger vessels would be resupplied rapidly by drone operated auto-loaders, but small ones like the Pixie still relied on manual labour to deliver their supply orders.

Back on the ship Billy had cycled out of the airlock to sign for theirs.

She was standing with her back to the hatch, which she had sealed behind her as she looked over the goods to ensure everything was up to snuff.

She paused as she snapped the lid back down on a load of freeze-dried meats for the galley, her eyes measuring the three men that had dropped it off and not liking what she saw.

They were too clean.

She pulled her hair back with two fingers, surreptitiously activating the coms unit in her ear.

“Thanks guys, you can go now. My crew will load the supplies when they get back.”

The man who had handed her the datapad for her thumbprint smiled at her, flashing teeth that had very recently been whitened.

“Part of the service is that we load the cargo free of charge. Stevedore Union rules I’m afraid.” He pronounced with an awkward chuckle; “Can’t have your crew taking deks out of our pockets now can we missy?”

“Doctor.” She corrected with authority; “Meaning that I know exactly how long it takes for a man to bleed out when I sever his carotid.”

His friends drew back in surprise at the thinly veiled threat while his cheek twitched and his gaze was drawn to the combat knife she casually bounced against her thigh.

She had produced it from seemingly nowhere and was holding it with the same easy confidence that Eva would.

But the stevedore didn’t back down, his demeanor hardening as his comrades squared their shoulders in preparation for whatever was to happen next.

Billy smirked at their ignorant courage: their eyes were on the knife, and the knife was a distraction; her other hand held a charge-pistol behind her hip, just out of their sight as the standoff continued.

She shook her head slowly in a bid to keep things from escalating.

“Despite the best efforts of her crew, this ship isn’t union. And if you try to board her without the captain’s permission, it will cost you a great deal.” Her tone shifted as she spoke, trying for reasonable; “Besides, the airlock is encoded, so without a cutting torch and a lot of fuss you aren’t getting in.”

His cheek twitched again, in annoyance now as his gaze flicked to the sealed airlock over the doctor’s right shoulder.

A tense minute later he gave up and turned to leave, his friends right behind him.

“It was the hands.” She called out to him, halting him in his tracks.

“What?”

His reply was sullen, but he stopped, his mates leaving him behind as he waited for her to elaborate.

“If you three were really stevedores, your hands wouldn’t be so soft, and they definitely wouldn’t be so clean. I doubt any of you have ever done an honest day’s labour in your lives.” She had taken a seat on one of the boxes, the pistol now fully visible as she crossed her arms over her thighs to wait for the crew’s return; “You should try it sometime, keep playing this game and you’re going to meet a bad end.”

He matched her gaze for a few seconds, then gave a jerky nod of his head and left to catch up with his buddies.

“We clear Billy?” Donnie’s voice sounded in her ear.

“Yeah, we’re clear. Some street level bullshit I’d bet. Anyways, I’m locked out. Need your override code.”

“Copy that. Stay put. I’ll be a little while yet.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Billy sighed as she lamented leaving her datapad and its trashy contents on the ship.

__________

Eli Porter was a walking stereotype.

A jovial fat man of middling years who was friendly to anyone and everyone that entered his humble little shop, he made a living selling fresh fish to hungry spacers.

He had made some inroads with the Juan Corporation’s inspectors aboard the station, so his business had taken off splendidly, and with no family to speak of he had amassed quite a nest-egg for himself.

Which was good, as it allowed the fat man to give away expensive fish to certain hungry cats in exchange