Earthrise (Her Instruments Book 1) Read Free Page A

grumbling, rose and left the mess hall.
    “The rooderberries will probably go bad if we keep them longer than it takes to get to Inu-case,” Kis’eh’t said, her voice quiet.
    “We’ll have to hope we can sell them to whatever poor sots live there, then,” Reese said with a sigh. She stood. “I know it’s crazy.”
    “Honor is the best form of craziness.” Bryer said.
    Reese eyed him. “This is not about honor. This is just good sense. If someone loans you money, you pay them back.”
    Bryer canted his head. Of all her crew, he struck her as the most alien. Even Allacazam, with its lack of eyes, mouth or even any obvious personality, seemed less threatening than Bryer with his whiteless eyes and narrow pupils. They made the Phoenix look wild, even though he rarely made a sudden move. “About more than money.”
    “You’re right,” Reese said. “Now it’s about flying all over the galaxy posting people’s bail.”
    Again, that steady stare. This time Reese ignored it and picked up Allacazam, watching its colors—his colors, she’d never been able to think of him as an it no matter what the u-banks said—flow to a muted lilac. “You’ll want to man your respective stations. We’ll be casting off in ten minutes.”
    Kis’eh’t rose, stretching her hind legs and wings, then padded past her. Bryer followed. Reese watched them go, then dropped back into her chair with a sigh and cuddled the Flitzbe. She pet the soft neural fibers.
    “I wish I was as sure about this as I have to seem to be,” she said.
    She heard a rising chime, felt a wash of muted lilac, Allacazam’s way of asking a question. She’d never questioned how they managed to communicate; few people in the Alliance truly understood the Flitzbe, and those who did weren’t exactly writing How-To communication guides for people like Reese. All she knew was that from the moment Allacazam had rolled into her life, things had felt easier. Not necessarily been easier, but at least felt that way.
    “Of course I have to seem confident,” she said to him. “But still... an Eldritch? Slavers? I’m just a trader, not a hero. I don’t want anything to do with something this dangerous.”
    The Flitzbe assembled an image of her dressed in plate mail with a shining sword. Reese laughed shakily. “Right. That’s not my cup of tea. Speaking of which... I could certainly use something for my stomach. And then to go check on the fuzzies to make sure they haven’t secretly diverted someplace more pleasant.”
    The smell of sour yogurt tickled her nostrils and she hugged the Flitzbe. “No, I don’t honestly think that badly of them. It’s just that this is hard enough without having to explain it to them, too.” She sighed, ruffling the top of his fur. “Hopefully it’ll be quick and simple and we can drop him off somewhere and that will be the end of that.”
    She knew better. From the flash of maroon that washed over Allacazam’s body, so did he.
     
    Their least time path carried them through Sector Epta and most of Andeka. The engines that their mysterious benefactor had paid to refit six years ago cut the journey from sixteen days to eleven, and Reese spent all of them fretting. Kis’eh’t caught her in the cargo hold on the fifth day, walking the spindles in the reduced gravity that reminded her so much of Mars and her happier days climbing the few tall trees there.
    “Guarding the bins isn’t going to stop the cargo from going bad,” the Glaseahn said.
    “I know,” Reese said, then sighed. “I don’t suppose there’s anyone who could use twenty bins worth of overripe rooderberries.”
    “Maybe a maker of rooderberry wine?” Kis’eh’t suggested.
    “We should be so lucky,” Reese said.
    “You’re worried,” Kis’eh’t said.
    Reese stared down at the centauroid from her perch on the spindle. “Now why would I be worried?” she asked. “We’re only about to tangle with slavers.”
    “Not necessarily,” Kis’eh’t