"They might try to destroy you," Thunderstorm pointed out. "There is no mercy in them."
"It doesn't matter," Keff said. "Once they're out of their ships, they're vulnerable." He plopped back onto the thick, black strap and swung back and forth, pleased with himself.
"We can capture them," Tall Eyebrow said, clamping an imaginary prey between his large hands.
"But you have no trade goods to attract attention," Narrow Leg said. "We have brought nothing."
"That's where you're wrong," Keff said, leaning forward with a grin. "We have some very fine trade goods. Now, listen closely."
Chapter Sixteen
"No more word from Base Eight," Zonzalo said, slapping an impatient hand down on the console. "That ship must have gotten them. It's too late."
Mirina bowed her head to say a quiet farewell to the lost crews. Some of them had been good friends of hers ever since the beginning of her association with the Melange. Some of them were apprentices she had brought on board and taught the ropes; innocents, like Sunset, who was wide-pupiled at the news.
"Are they all dead?" the Thelerie asked, searching his beloved humans' faces.
"We don't know that," Bisman said nonchalantly, brushing off the youngster's question. "The radios might have broken down, that's all. All the stuff's old."
"All of them?" Mirina asked in a sarcastic tone, taking care to keep her voice low. "Three ships and the master transmitter and all the backups broke down at once?"
"What do you want me to say?" Bisman hissed between his teeth. "You want the kid yammering to be taken home because he's scared?"
"He ought to know the truth, Aldon," Mirina hissed back, planting a palm in the middle of his chest and pushing. Bisman, taken by surprise, backed up into the bulkhead with a thump. His necklace of curios jangled. He brushed Mirina's hand away, and she put it on her hip. "The idea is that we let him make his own decisions, based on honest information, so he can function on his own one day in space, just like we promised them. If we don't tell him anything, he's just blundering along."
"Huh. Like the rest of us." Bisman turned away to go aft toward the mess, dismissing her. Suddenly, Mirina felt weary of the constant fighting, the dishonesty, the deaths. She strode after Bisman, finally having to run up the corridor to catch him. He turned around when he heard the hurrying footsteps behind him. Mirina beckoned him under a ventilation duct so the noise would cover their voices to the crew on the bridge.
"What?" Bisman demanded, deliberately standing over her so she had to crane her head back to look at him. She refused to let his tactics dismay her.
"Aldon, I want to quit."
"Quit what?" Bisman asked, acidly.
"I'm tired," Mirina said, standing back a pace and easing her head down. She massaged the back of her neck, and felt the tension in the muscles there. "I've been thinking a lot about this lately. This wasn't supposed to be a permanent arrangement, me staying on with you and the others."
"What's to think about?" Bisman asked, his thick, dark eyebrows tented in a puzzled peak over his nose. "We've got an arrangement. We work together, and we make money. That's what you wanted."
"Well, that's what I wanted for a while. Now, I want to stop."
Bisman scowled at her. "You're not serious."
Mirina let out an exasperated sigh. "Yes, I'm serious."
"Why do you want to leave?" Bisman asked. "We're good together."
"We haven't really been together in a long time, Aldon," Mirina said, patiently, trying to make him understand. She searched his face. "You know that. Everyone needs change after a while. I've been here eight years. It's time for me to move on. I need to." Then, daringly, "And I'm taking Zon with me."
Bisman was immediately suspicious. "Why?"
Mirina planted her hands on her ample hips. "Because that's what I meant to do eight years ago when I came looking for him," she said, without raising her voice. She could see by his expression that he finally understood her determination, but he still didn't like it. "I meant to take him and go. Then I stayed. Now it's time for us to leave. That's all."
"Miri, honey, you can't go! We need you," Bisman said, bending his knees so he could look directly into her eyes. He clasped her upper arms and shook her gently, a tender look on his face. He rubbed his thumbs back and forth on her shoulders to the indentation under her collarbone. Mirina groaned inwardly as she felt the tingle spread through her body. She knew he was going to try emotional blackmail, and here it came. He hadn't touched her like that in over two years. The contact felt so good, reminding her of the days when they'd been lovers, but she knew it was only a tool he was using on her. Suddenly, she felt angry that she could be so thoroughly manipulated.
"You don't need me," Mirina said, fighting for a clear mind. "You did once, Aldon, but now the operation is running well. It's profitable, and everyone's taking good care of themselves."
"There, you see?" Bisman said, with another friendly shake. "We're in good shape because of you. You've done so much for us. We wouldn't have grown like this. Couldn't have. We can't do without you. The Melange needs you."
"You needed me," Mirina said, emphatically. "It isn't the same thing any more. As soon as we finish this run to Thelerie, Zon and I are leaving." He heard the hard tone of her voice and let her go, almost pushing her away. Mirina felt cold like the void of space fill the gap between them. Shivers replaced the tingle. No, there hadn't been any residual affection there.
"To hell with you, then," he said, his voice flat. "Go. You've got plenty of money from your shares to go anywhere you want."
"I don't want it." Aha, that surprised him. "I've never taken a thing out of the kitty, Aldon. It's all still there. I'll leave you every credit in exchange for a ship, any ship, even a junker. I can make it run."
"You don't know what you're talking about," Bisman said, making a fist. He held it in midair as if he didn't know what to do with it. For a moment Mirina was afraid he would hit her. Then he slammed his hand against the bulkhead over her shoulder. "You're crazy, the both of you. All right, then. When we make planetfall, you can leave in a ship, and go to hell while you're at it." He threw the last words over his shoulder as he stalked away toward the galley. Always the master of the parting line.
"Thank you, Aldon," Mirina called after him, genuinely grateful. He'd given her his word. Bisman wasn't paying any attention. Probably planning the next raid to make up for the loss of a ship.
She had to think of her own next move, too, after Thelerie. They were only a day or two away. It was going to take some fancy planning to begin life anew without a credit to her name. At least she could top off the tank of whatever vessel Bisman let her have. Thunderstorm's wrecks were available, but they wouldn't get her a light-year before blowing up. Damn it, she thought. She would have liked to stick around until the Thelerie became spaceworthy on their own. They were coming along so well. It would have been this generation that finally made the last step, and she would've been there to see it. Maybe some day she'd meet one of them in a remote outpost somewhere. Maybe they'd remember her. Mirina sighed, her heart and shoulders equally heavy. Maybe not. She went to tell Zonzalo of her decision.
Mirina woke in the dark and stared up at the ceiling. Yes, she had heard something, a noise on the edge of sound. A hiss.
In the utter blackness of her cabin she couldn't see anything, but she sensed that the shape of the space had changed. She could feel the air blowing on her skin from another angle. The door was open, but the corridor lights had been killed. Mirina's remaining senses roared up to high awareness. The pulses of the ship grew loud, and she felt the thrum of the engines in her flesh. Her sense of smell became enhanced, too. Mirina scented sweat and another, less tangible odor, sharp and thin. Fear. The shape of the darkness changed again, as a body moved between her and the source of air.