like a Blue Python. She likes to foist it off on newcomers who don’t know any better.”
She was still focused on his mention of trade runs. “You have a ship?”
“I pilot one,” he said. “Thirty-two years now.”
“You must have been to so many places…”
“A lot of it’s back and forth,” he said. “Same runs, same stations, same planets. Not as exciting as it seems.”
“Oh.” She stared out at all those ships again, unable to imagine being on any one of them as boring.
“Why, where do you want to go?” he asked with mild interest.
The answer leapt out of her. “Urioq.”
“Huh. We’re headed that direction. Balba’s our stop, but you could easily find someone to pick you up there and take you the rest of the way. It’s practically a shuttle hop.”
She’d never considered simply leaving before. She had some funds carefully saved up—not to be squandered on this, she was sure, but suddenly she couldn’t bear the thought of returning to Centuris.
“How much is passage?”
“Four hundred fifty standards. You from one of the Rim colonies?”
He spoke with the same easy curiosity as before, so she nodded.
“Thought so. The accent. There are some who’d try to take advantage of that, you know.”
“I know. That’s why I’m going to check the fare with other ships.”
He chuckled. “Fair enough. We’ll call it four twenty-five, and you go ahead and ask around. That’ll be the best price you get. I’m Mohit Pareau of the Alioqui . Anyone in this bar can tell you where we’re docked.”
“I’m Shayalin Cho,” she said. “I’ll keep you in mind.”
It was difficult not to, as she circulated throughout the bar and asked about her prospects for getting to Urioq. She collected three fares higher than Mohit’s and a lewd proposition—thankfully right at the bar, where Wei the bartender took up station right across from them and quelled the man’s rudeness with a deliberate stare.
“Thanks,” Shayalin said to her once the offender had slunk off.
“Mohit asked me to keep an eye out for you,” she said, sliding a glass of clear liquid over to her.
Shayalin sniffed at it suspiciously. “Then what’s this?”
Wei chuckled. “Water. On the house.”
Embarrassed, she mumbled her thanks and sipped it. There was a dullness to the taste she couldn’t quite describe—it was water, as she had said, but nothing like the fresh spring water on Centuris.
Did she really want to leave?
“So you really want to go to Urioq?” Wei asked, as if reading her mind.
“Yes,” she said, suddenly decisive.
“What takes you there?”
“Family,” Shayalin said vaguely.
“Running to or from?”
She’d just been about to take another swallow but lowered the glass instead. “How could you tell?”
Wei shrugged. “I’ve seen it all.”
“Have you ever met a pirate?” she asked impulsively.
“Maybe,” Wei said breezily, brushing off the query. But she saw how Shayalin’s face fell and sighed, giving in. “Yes. It’s not something you go around admitting, though. Being one or meeting one.”
“So how did you know?”
“They’re arrogant. You don’t break the law then show your face in here unless you’re a cocky son of a bitch. It shows—they’ve got a swagger. And they always try to run a tab, since they know they won’t be staying around long enough to pay it.”
Shayalin couldn’t imagine willfully failing to pay one of her debts, but that might be as much from fear of what her mother would say. And pirates, she knew, did far worse than shorting people out of a few drinks’ worth of credits. “You can really tell from that?”
The bartender snorted. “People give away far more than they realize. See the fellow at that end stool? No, don’t turn around so obviously. He’s a courier. He’s carrying something important that needs to be hand-delivered—look down.”
Shayalin noted the small case tucked between the man’s foot and one of the stool
She was still focused on his mention of trade runs. “You have a ship?”
“I pilot one,” he said. “Thirty-two years now.”
“You must have been to so many places…”
“A lot of it’s back and forth,” he said. “Same runs, same stations, same planets. Not as exciting as it seems.”
“Oh.” She stared out at all those ships again, unable to imagine being on any one of them as boring.
“Why, where do you want to go?” he asked with mild interest.
The answer leapt out of her. “Urioq.”
“Huh. We’re headed that direction. Balba’s our stop, but you could easily find someone to pick you up there and take you the rest of the way. It’s practically a shuttle hop.”
She’d never considered simply leaving before. She had some funds carefully saved up—not to be squandered on this, she was sure, but suddenly she couldn’t bear the thought of returning to Centuris.
“How much is passage?”
“Four hundred fifty standards. You from one of the Rim colonies?”
He spoke with the same easy curiosity as before, so she nodded.
“Thought so. The accent. There are some who’d try to take advantage of that, you know.”
“I know. That’s why I’m going to check the fare with other ships.”
He chuckled. “Fair enough. We’ll call it four twenty-five, and you go ahead and ask around. That’ll be the best price you get. I’m Mohit Pareau of the Alioqui . Anyone in this bar can tell you where we’re docked.”
“I’m Shayalin Cho,” she said. “I’ll keep you in mind.”
It was difficult not to, as she circulated throughout the bar and asked about her prospects for getting to Urioq. She collected three fares higher than Mohit’s and a lewd proposition—thankfully right at the bar, where Wei the bartender took up station right across from them and quelled the man’s rudeness with a deliberate stare.
“Thanks,” Shayalin said to her once the offender had slunk off.
“Mohit asked me to keep an eye out for you,” she said, sliding a glass of clear liquid over to her.
Shayalin sniffed at it suspiciously. “Then what’s this?”
Wei chuckled. “Water. On the house.”
Embarrassed, she mumbled her thanks and sipped it. There was a dullness to the taste she couldn’t quite describe—it was water, as she had said, but nothing like the fresh spring water on Centuris.
Did she really want to leave?
“So you really want to go to Urioq?” Wei asked, as if reading her mind.
“Yes,” she said, suddenly decisive.
“What takes you there?”
“Family,” Shayalin said vaguely.
“Running to or from?”
She’d just been about to take another swallow but lowered the glass instead. “How could you tell?”
Wei shrugged. “I’ve seen it all.”
“Have you ever met a pirate?” she asked impulsively.
“Maybe,” Wei said breezily, brushing off the query. But she saw how Shayalin’s face fell and sighed, giving in. “Yes. It’s not something you go around admitting, though. Being one or meeting one.”
“So how did you know?”
“They’re arrogant. You don’t break the law then show your face in here unless you’re a cocky son of a bitch. It shows—they’ve got a swagger. And they always try to run a tab, since they know they won’t be staying around long enough to pay it.”
Shayalin couldn’t imagine willfully failing to pay one of her debts, but that might be as much from fear of what her mother would say. And pirates, she knew, did far worse than shorting people out of a few drinks’ worth of credits. “You can really tell from that?”
The bartender snorted. “People give away far more than they realize. See the fellow at that end stool? No, don’t turn around so obviously. He’s a courier. He’s carrying something important that needs to be hand-delivered—look down.”
Shayalin noted the small case tucked between the man’s foot and one of the stool