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salved beast over his shoulder, now
that they were distracted. He would have nothing to worry about from the
smugglers either. Nothing would be left of the two men but teeth, and their
captain could hardly ask the Humans about two men he’d sent to steal wood.

Boxing Clever
    Tsekoh, Capital of Chaco Benthic
    C allum
shuffled away from the rocky outcropping. Despite millennia of undersea mining
operations, the suits were still the same clunky designs, and he had to move
away from the rocks in an awkward hopping motion. The faster he moved, the more
the energy shielding hazed around his head and it always scared the hell out of
him.
    If the shield ever failed, he probably wouldn’t even have
time to notice it as the pressure would increase a thousand fold, killing him
with instant mercy. The thought was a comfort that gave him cold sweats in the
night.
    He came to a stop next to a co-worker just as a light thump
punched at his suit and his shield hazed again. They both looked back at the
tumbling rocks until a chime sounded in their helmets. Cal looked at the
communication display projected on the shield to his right before waving the
other man over.
    They grabbed each other’s arms and leaned forward, touching
their shields, forcing them together until an opening appeared between their
faces with a gentle hiss of air from the slight pressure difference between the
two. They continued pushing until the electromagnetic plates at the front of
their neck collars made contact, locking them together.
    The old hands called it face time and they usually
did it to impress the rookie suit drivers. It was a good way to talk when the
regular comms were down and Cal’s rock fall, triggered by a small prospecting
charge, had just buried the last functional repeater in the entire grid.
    “Should be able to talk until shift change,” Belfric
muttered, looking up at the bright line where the two head shields intersected,
mild concern obvious on his face. “Hells, we probably won’t have a new repeater
out this way for months, knowing the company.”
    Belfric was nervous about engaging in face time and Cal
grinned with approval. “Let’s hurry up anyway, Bel,” he urged. “A smart
operator is one who doesn’t like unnecessary risk.” He glanced meaningfully up
at the glowing energy seam. “Don’t want to get my pay docked for a crushed
suit…”
    Bel laughed despite his fears. It was one of the great
things about C’Al, as everyone here knew him; he had a way of sharing their
fears that made his people feel braver. Sure, Belfric was worried about
glitching his shield during the risky face time meeting but C’Al was scared
too. If the Tauhentan could find it in himself to overcome the crushing menace,
so could Bel.
    “So my guy did a clean-up of D’Nei’s locker as soon as his
marker expired,” Bel began. “Couple of contraband weapons, some lagweed – no
surprise there – and a collection of rather surprising and embarrassing videos
featuring your recently deceased planetman and one very well-placed company
official.”
    Cal raised his eyebrows. “Male or female?”
    “Female.” Belfric’s gaze narrowed. “You look surprised,
C’Al. He didn’t compromise her on orders?”
    A shake of the head. “No. Son of a clone was making up his
own ops and exposing us all to risk in the process. You still have the video?”
    “It’s in a planter down on the one-twenty-eight promenade.”
    “Destroy it. I can’t imagine a more dangerous enemy than one
with nothing to lose.”
    A slight nod, as though hearing exactly what he’d expected
to hear. “There’s one more thing,” Bel added. “A box – spicewood.”
    “So she gave him an expensive gift.” Cal shrugged. “She
probably thought she was pulling the strings, giving him credits and
trinkets to keep him coming back.”
    “I don’t give two turds what she might have thought,” Bel
said mildly. “I want to know where the wood came from; it was fresher