MoonRush (27 page)

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Authors: Ben Hopkin,Carolyn McCray

BOOK: MoonRush
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And now all Jarod had to do was find one guy out of what looked to be several hundred. No problem.

As Jarod looked for the markers
that
the bouncer had given him, he couldn’t help but watch the penniless squatters who had made their homes here. Most were sitting or lying down, bags and clothes heaped around them for warmth. In the entire area
,
Jarod saw maybe three who were actually up and moving around, and even they were listless.

There was one other oddity to this area. Jarod found he could barely breathe. Thinking about it, he realized that the administrators of
the
Moon
b
ase were probably not overly concerned about airflow to this particular area. The oxygen was mighty thin around here. Maybe that was part of the reason for the lifelessness of the homeless here. He watched as one of the nearby denizens popped his head out of his hovel, glared at Jarod, flipped him the bird,
and
retreated inside.

Well, this was just ridiculous. He wasn’t going to find this guy by wandering around and ogling the natives. Jarod stopped at the next nearest habitation and tried to knock on the cardboard
,
only to have it crumple under his hand and fall to the floor.

“What the hell
do
you think you’re doing, boy? That’s my roof you’re beating down
!
” A middle
-
aged woman with
gray
hair sticking out at all angles emerged from her makeshift hut, petting what mostly appeared to be a cat. The part that didn’t look like a cat resembled something found at the bottom of a shower. The cat-thing hissed at Jarod and dug himself into the crook of his mistress’ arm.

Stepping back from the woman and her “cat
,
” Jarod had to wonder just who was crazy enough to take
a
pet to the moon. “I’m looking for a man named Mr. Onrove.”

“Rovy? That hottie? I’ve been trying to bag that man since he wound up here.” She shifted her raggedy blouse around, displacing the cat in the process. “Stupid twit’s faithful to his wife back home. Idiot
!
Hasn’t even talked to her in
,
like
,
three months.”

“Well, I’m trying to find him. Do you know where he is?”

The older woman got a twinkle in her eye as she looked Jarod up and down. “What’s it worth to ya, pretty boy?” She fluttered her eyes at him. She cackled at Jarod’s obvious discomfort. “Don’t worry, sexy. I don’t bite. Unless you really want me to.”

“Ahhh…right. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Your boy Rovy’s over around the corner there. Probably whining about his ‘honey
.

” She yelled over Jarod’s head in the direction she had indicated. “I got your honey right here, Rovy! You hear me?” She continued cackling as Jarod waved his thanks and moved around the corner as fast as his feet would carry him.

Rounding the bend, Jarod peered out over the heads of three or four groups of huddled humanity.
S
o little distinguish
ed
one from another. The color of a blanket, the length of the ratty hair, the depth of a cough…superficialities. The worst part of this experience was seeing how much of a leveler need was. Truth be told, the only real thing keeping Jarod from being amongst them was time…and his friends. Otherwise, his own choices could easily have landed him in this position, whether here or back home. He called out to the mounds.

“Mr. Onrove?” Jarod saw, in the second group on the other side of the hallway partially obscured by a plasteel divider, one head bob its way up to a somewhat upright position. Jarod maneuvered around the closest group to make his way over to the man. Mr. Onrove looked to be in his early forties
. His
full head of hair
was
going gray at the temples. He wasn’t nearly as far gone as most of the others here. His hair was unkempt
,
but not quite grown wild. His shirt, while filthy, still showed its original checkered pattern.

This was a man down on his luck, but not quite gone yet.

The failed prospector squinted up at Jarod. “You call
ed
my name?”

“Yeah. Mr. Onrove, right?” The man nodded his assent. “I understand
that
you’ve got a ship fit to fly to the dark side?” Jarod did what he could to keep the desperation out of his voice, but this guy really was his last shot at the diamond fields. Jarod had no desire to head back to the strip club to find another lead that probably wasn’t there anyway.
S
ome things no one should have to see twice. Hell,
let alone
once.

The squatter blinked a couple of times before responding. Jarod guessed
that
this was probably the first conversation the man had
with anyone
in a couple of weeks. “Maybe.” He licked his cracked lips. “But not much farther…” Jarod winced
inwardly
. He needed a ship, but he needed one that would get him and his team to where they needed to go.

“How are its certifications and licenses?” Jarod pressed. If the thing was licensed
,
it had to at least fly, right? Jarod thought about the
Eureka
and tightened his mouth. Okay
,
maybe not, but he had to have a ship.

That question seemed to perk something up inside Onrove. Hope brightened his features, making clear the fact that
here
was a man down on his luck, but not completely out. “All clear as glass. It’s ready to fly. All’s we want is enough to get back home.” He wagged his chin at the two younger men drowsing on either side of him. From the look of their faces, Jarod guessed they were his sons, or at least close relatives. This
family had gotten trapped on the moon after probably risking everything they had to get out here.

It was uncomfortably close to Jarod’s own scenario. It wouldn’t take much to put Rob or Buton’s face on one of these half-sleeping wretches. Jarod
had
to make this work.

Jarod assessed his funds and gave what he hoped would be a solid offer. “We can give you 200,000 credits for


A flash of light reflecting
from
polished jade burned into Jarod’s corneas. A lithe figure stepped into his view, even more out of place here than she usually appeared elsewhere. The voice Jarod had heard more often than he’d like…and yet
,
somehow
,
not enough…countered, “250,000.”

Seriously. What was wrong with this chick? Had she not made his life miserable enough already
?
And now
,
she wanted to swoop in and steal his ship? “Ah. So wonderful to see you again.” Jarod infused his tone with all the sarcasm he could muster while tipping an imaginary hat. “
And h
ere I thought you had standards. Turns out
,
you just had a price. Which must not have been very high if Gil paid it.” He
re
turned his attention to the squatter. “300.”

“Four,” the woman fired back. Apparently
,
she wasn’t planning on going anywhere. “And I’m not ‘with’ Gil. His was the only craft not damaged by the blast.”

“Yeah, right.” Jarod peered into the woman’s eyes, looking for any sign of deception. She coolly returned his gaze, raising an eyebrow at the extended standoff. Jarod snorted his disdain, then turned back to the sale. “450.”

For the first time, the Asian squirmed a bit before countering. “475. If I
were
with him, why would I be trying to buy a ship?”

Good question.
An e
ven better one might be why she cared that Jarod believe her. Didn’t take too much to put all the jigsaw pieces together. Especially since
the smartest people had handed some of them over to him
,
he knew. “Same strategy as blowing up the docking ports, babe.” Jarod put on his condescending smirk, daring her to find a flaw in his logic. Well, Buton’s logic. Whatever. “Consume all the resources
,
and leave nothing for the competition. Supply and demand 101.”

“What about you?”

“What do you mean, ‘what about you?’

“Well, Gil’s was one of
two
ships that made it safely off the station.” As she spoke, the tiger necklace, nestled right at the top of her cleavage, kept bouncing up and down. It was very distracting. Jarod forced his eyes back up and into the conflict.

“Safe?
Safe?
Our pilot almost died. Actually, he did die. Twice. There was nothing safe about our escape from that deathtrap.”

Mr. Onrove cleared his throat, snapping the tension between the two like it had been a cable cut with a hacksaw. “
Soooo
. Did you guys want to buy my ship or not?”

Jarod decided to go big. He spoke to Onrove while keeping his gaze locked with the woman’s. “515…And tickets to Disney World.”

Mr. Onrove looked
at
the woman to see if she would counter, but she just shook her head. The prospector turned back to Jarod. “Sold.”

Jarod couldn’t help but gloat a bit as he watched the attractive backside of his female nemesis melt back into the crowd. Okay, half gloating
and
half admiring. Then
,
the enormity of what he had just done hit him full in the gut. Along with the enormity of the last number he had uttered to the prospector.

Mr. Onrove held out a hopeful hand. “The money?”

Jarod groaned.

* * *

The beginning of a new mission always filled Captain Stavros with energy that mere adrenaline or caffeine could never approximate. There was an exultation about a mission go that was almost spiritual in nature. And this specific mission was doubly that. This was a task that could very well be career
defining…no,
life
defining. Stavros could feel it in his bones. If he
were
successful here, no limits
would exist
on what he could achieve. It was time for the
Eclipse
’s maiden voyage, yes. But even more than the ship, it was time for Stavros himself to ascend to the heavens.

He rested his arms against the
handles on
either side of his chair

the leather with the
S
ensaform gel underneath

flowing and forming to his contours in milliseconds. This craft was less a vessel and more a lover, finding so many ways to caress and comfort those sheltered within her hold. Stavros surveyed his team, watching the precision of the way they compensated for one another in an endless dance that was almost hypnotic.

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