“What have you done?”

  “Perfect,” I told him. “Holy. Shit.”

  I double-tapped the screen and threw up a simple holo. Lumen received her answer.

  “The secret economy, senora.”

  The unibrow bristled above her raging eyes. I thought she might leap over the bar and lunge at the boy.

  “Why? Why in ten hells did you do this?”

  Ship didn’t back down.

  “I believe in Raul. He promised me a new arm. A real arm.”

  Ah. He dropped the fake accent. A breakthrough!

  “You sad little moron. He’s a swindler. He’ll never …”

  “You’re wrong, senora. He’ll deliver. I know what he …” Ship caught himself in time. No sense diving into the weeds. “Raul will give me a real future.”

  “Ungrateful shit. I made a home for you.”

  “It’s still my home for now. But Raul is better for us all.”

  The commotion silenced the cantina. Every eye fell upon us, and a few surged toward the bar. In defense of whom, I wasn’t sure.

  Not that it mattered.

  I wrapped an arm around the boy.

  “You are a brilliant young man with enormous potential. Thank you. I’ll have the new arm and phasic tools ready within the week.”

  As Ship’s first tear fell, I smiled at Lumen.

  “He’s mine now. For his sake, and yours, and everyone in this town, I humbly ask you to concede. Tell everyone: Desperido belongs to me. Do that, and I will get to work on your behalf at once.”

  In the absence of a defiant retort, I accepted her surrender.

  Humans never saw me coming.

  16

  F IVE HUNDRED CREDITS A HEAD didn’t guarantee I could plant my flag in Desperido for long, but it bought me time – and benefit of the doubt. The locals were too smart to fall for promises alone. They were eccentric, not gullible. Like my favorite new student Ship, these folks required me to back up my words with action. Bribery worked.

  Moon thought I jeopardized our long-range goals when I emptied seventy percent of our bank account to secure a town we might not hold for two weeks. Theo taunted me at every opportunity, which felt like business as usual except for the relish he seemed to take in my impending failure.

  Then they got a look at what was happening underneath the red dust. Desperido’s belly was a shopping mall of the illicit, the duplicitous, the ghoulish, and the bizarre. Most of these people were criminal artists. Naturally, I took a shine to each one.

  The forgers were the most educated lot, perhaps because they had the most painstaking job. They also carried the largest chip on their shoulders. A disgruntled abstract artist named Eduardo created a phasic tool that allowed him to duplicate the most famous paintings on Azteca and several other worlds. He showed me how his technique did more than replicate brushstrokes; it aged the canvas to fool even the most discerning expert’s eyes.

  “Eight years,” he told me. “Perfect record. My work is hanging in museums on nine planets, and the curators none the wiser. I’m the most famous painter nobody’s ever heard of.” When I asked how he felt about his anonymity, Eduardo stared at me with a churlish grin. “Suck ’em. They had their chance.”

  Apparently, he did not take rejection well.

  Eduardo’s next-door neighbor, a retired archeologist and fulltime anarchist named Maximillian, used a similar tech to reinvent history. He created pottery and other tools that had been used by ancient ancestors on Earth, long before colonization. Everything he made supposedly was discovered during archeological digs in the former region known as Mexicana. Those lands were considered sacred to the Aztecans, who were forced to this planet a thousand years ago when the Chancellors cleansed Earth of a few billion undesirables. He claimed to have a spotless record of success, although his profits were tiny.

  “Not the point,” Max said when I asked how much he pulled in. “I’m proving every antiquities dealer for the charlatans they are.”

  “How?”

  “I’ll leave this town in a few years and hunt down my pieces. I’ll expose the forgeries and bring down those bastards. You watch.”

  Eh. I had no intention of sticking around here that long. I also doubted Max had many years left. He weren’t much more than a dried leather sleeve on bones. His resentment for past slights by the “insiders” in his profession appeared to be his sole purpose for living.

  Like Eduardo and so many others, he appreciated my good-faith giveaway. Though there was a shitload of money to be made along the supply chain, he saw little of it. Most of these folks shared the same story: Their margins were damn pitiful, only enough to eke out a living in this remote hideaway. The buyers undercut these people because nodamnbody in a town like Desperido had leverage. Money was being made, all right – UCVs into the tens of millions – but hardly a taste for the desert weirdos.

  That’s where my vision resonated. I promised to renegotiate terms, although no one asked how. Just as well they didn’t know.

  Dozens of these fine humans specialized in biotech mods outlawed by the People’s Collectorate. They used banned genetic script, most stolen from the Chancellors’ old Special Services division, to create medicinal “experiences.”

  Motif was the best of the lot, with the greatest profit potential. It was a paper-thin wafer the size of a thumbnail. The user rubbed it onto the back of his hand like lotion. When it dissolved, Motif sent an orgasm coursing up the arm and then a long, twisting journey through the body. They said the effect matched the best sexual climax with the added benefit of dancing alongside fantastical creatures among the heavens. It was perfectly safe, the designers insisted, except for the ten percent chance of heart failure. The standard risk-reward proposition for high-class drugs.

  My new friend Elian, the fella trying to cure his myostemic plastosis with a skull implant, led a collective of ten folks jammed into four tiny rooms. They designed Motif wafers in a bountiful array of colors. They hid the product inside the wrapping to canisters of olive fish paste, which was in turn sold to upscale buyers in the largest Aztecan cities and the glitterati on other colonies.

  Unlike Eduardo and Maximillian, Elian had no particular gripe against society. He funneled all his meager profits into curing himself. One damn way or the other, this man intended to feel outer space beneath his feet – and not die horribly.

  I admired his pluck, but I also hesitated to tell him about the cure I could whip up in a matter of hours. When Theo researched my core syneth matrix, he discovered the formula. As it turned out, the race of people who elevated Moon and me to godhood (before we in turn wiped them from existence) solved myostemic plastosis half a million years ago. A cure would guarantee Elian’s loyalty, but it might lessen his motivation to produce Motif. And there was nothing in this town with greater profit potential.

  I talked to jewelers who produced knockoff pink rubies, gold lace, and brontinium extract. I also visited legitimate creators who made little money crafting books (the paper-bound kind that were all but extinct), cosmetics, soap, and wood crafts.

  Yet a quarter of the town focused their endeavors on AI or biotech mods. Their products ran the gamut from wormhole tracking evaders for the discriminating smuggler to blood-swap recirculators for the rich and deviant. The inventory fascinated me, but none grabbed me like that belonging to women nicknamed the Daedalus twins.

  A pair of Elian’s close friends, Carmen and Leandra, refashioned the heads and torsos of the recently deceased into AI companions with the voice and personality stamp of the previous occupant. A few wealthy families who couldn’t “let go” paid embalmers to prepare the body of a loved one as if for public viewing then ship it off to be “refashioned.” Each body arrived in Desperido gutted and in deep freeze along with an extensive playlist denoting language, biography, psychological profile, and consciousness download of the dearly departed.

  The final product was a tabletop version of the original, guaranteed to last fifty years without tissue degradation. I saw a silver-haired man that the twins dressed in a fedora and a cabana shirt; he was damned near indistinguishable from the real deal. And chatty!

  They said these creatures filled a void in the private lives of their grieving clientele. Frankly, I admired the art, but damn if this wasn’t a truly disgusting perversion of a human body. Those flimsy sacs weren’t meant to last beyond their natural expiration date.

  Like much of Desperido’s creators, Carmen and Leandra happily violated interstellar law. Androids and sentient AI had been barred for sixteen hundred years. There’d been an uprising – one of those “oh, shit, they’re gonna kill the masters” moments – that took about a year for the Chancellors to put down. Apparently, half a million lives lost was considered too big a price to pay for a reboot.

  I contemplated shutting down the twins. Their creatures hit too close to home. But I couldn’t pass up the profit potential.

  I handed Ship a tablet and took him everywhere. He typed notes while I learned about the secret economy. These people needed to see the boy as more than the awkward server who did their bidding and cleaned their tables. I doubted they thought much more of him than Vincente and Mando, who cursed the kid for being Carib.

  Naturally, they were taken aback when he arrived as my personal assistant. They were downright floored when he dropped the fake accent. Their body language changed; they addressed the kid with something that sounded an awful lot like respect.

  The old anarchist Maximillian said he used to think the kid was a charity case with sagebrush for a brain.

  “I never heard ten words cross your lips, my boy. I always assumed Lumen found you in a sewer and took pity.”

  Ship gritted his teeth through what became a familiar refrain.

  “I’m not the most educated, sir, but I can fend for myself. I’m a quick study when I have to be.”

  “So, I see. And what of your accent? Why the game?”

  When Ship explained how Lumen put him up to it, Max slapped his knee and unleashed a string of curses.

  “There are days I’d love to wring that woman’s neck. It’s bad enough she takes so much off the top and won’t lift a finger to change our margins.”

  “Senora has a difficult job,” Ship said. “She has to manage the town and keep the Horax, the government, and the other buyers at length. There are many people to pay, senor.”

  “Pay off, you mean. My boy, I appreciate your spirited defense of a woman who forced you into a submissive and theatrical role, but Lumen is a tyrant by definition.”

  The kid shook his head.

  “Yet you have lived under her rules for many years. Were you not free to leave at any time?”

  Max chuckled. “Fair point, my boy. A man will tolerate many things so long as he is left alone.”

  After two days of meeting with locals, Ship burst with confidence. He offered no shortage of opinions on the townsfolk, all of which he’d bottled up for years. When we discussed business, he responded with proposals which were beyond his grasp. Still, I admired his enthusiasm.

  “The plan’s going very well, don’t you think, Raul?”

  “If it wasn’t, nobody would’ve been more surprised than me. Don’t get too caught up in the glow of victory, my friend. This was the easy part. A bribe is a temporary salve. I can make anyone bend to my will until he asks for the next payment and I don’t have the credits.”

  “No need to worry about that. After you renegotiate with the buyers, these people will love you.”

  We walked toward the new home I shared with Moon. The previous occupants were cousins who tried to steal from us. I wrapped an arm around my apprentice.

  “Ship, I’m gonna offer you a simple philosophy you’d be well advised never to forget. As a rule of thumb, humans are assholes. They’re born as such. It’s their natural default until they die. This is not necessarily a bad thing. Given the extraordinary likelihood that each person will be screwed over by other assholes, it’s useful to have a healthy defensive position from which you can respond in kind. See my point?”

  He scratched his chin and contemplated for a moment.

  “So, you’re saying I need to be an asshole.”

  “When folks got it coming to them? Damn right. Look what those assholes on Everdeen did to your arm. Think about how you’ve been subjugated in this town. Now, these folks might see you differently today, but it don’t mean they accept you. Be on your guard. Raise your voice when you aren’t being heard. Somebody tries to push you around, give better than you take.”

  “Huh. I’m not sure how. Lumen always taught me to do as I was told and to be kind and gentle.”

  “Every actor has a stage, my friend. Know your lines and what scene you’re performing. Maybe you’re good Ship in one scene and asshole Ship in the next.”

  “How will I know which one is best?”

  “That’s the trick, my friend. The easy answer is experience. The best answer? Follow your instinct and be willing to make a few enemies. A man without enemies hasn’t done shit with his life.”

  “Sounds like me. All I’ve ever done is serve tables.”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You made enemies the moment you landed on this planet.”

  Ship bowed his head.

  “Never thought of it that way. Will things change when I have a new arm?”

  “Oh, sure. You’ll have more enemies.”

  “Why?”

  “You’ll be a complete man. That will scare the hell out of certain Aztecans. Remember, Ship. Assholes.”

  “Got it.”

  I saw Moon walking into town from the northern perimeter and told Ship I’d meet him later in the cantina. I had important business there, but not with the kid.

  “It’s done, partner,” Moon said. “I linked the sensors.”

  He opened his pom and showed me the layout. The defense shield extended two hundred meters beyond the town on all sides. He planted motion detection screeners up to five kilometers out.

  “Nice job. When the enemy approaches, we’ll be ready.”

  “I saw you with the kid. You told him anything about the plan?”

  “Nah. He ain’t ready for the hard truth. But he’s coming out of his shell. Once he has his arm, he’ll do whatever we ask.”

  Moon didn’t share my faith in Ship, or much else about the immediate future. He’d been surly since I took over the town. He didn’t appreciate returning to the fort to clean out our belongings and return the weapons cache to the very bunker where we retrieved it from Esai. He nagged every few hours about the bank account. Had the Prez deposited our payment for the Qasi job?

  “I expect the deposit any minute,” I reassured him. “Nonpayment is a risk she dare not take, my friend.”

  We cleansed Qasi of her most pressing enemies eight days ago. President Aleksanyan and her minions were trying to test our resolve.

  “Focus on the present, Moon. Our current concerns are twofold. The most pressing is the resupply tumbler. It arrives tomorrow midday. We need to see that transfer process through.”

  “I understand, partner. What about the second?”

  “Yeah. Her. Senora Cooperative.”

  “Lumen hasn’t put up a fight in two days. What is she planning?”

  “She’s burning a fire somewhere, I guarantee.”

  “That coit will not go down without a fight.”

  Moon was right. Lumen had too much invested in this town. To make matters more frustrating: She remained a mystery. My research turned up nothing on the woman, and her lips weren’t moving.

  “I believe it’s time for another sit-down, Moon. I might need to resort to more persuasive techniques.”

  “You already tried twice. The woman spit in your face. She’s biding her time, Royal. We should kill her and focus on the next stage.”

  “Yeah, no. Not until after the tumbler. She’s the one they’ll expect. Nah. It ain’t her time, my friend. There’s something important she’s holding back. It might be the leverage we need to turn this entire operation on its ass. Until I dig it out, she’s off limits. Understand?”

  “Sure, Royal.”

  I stowed my pom and cleared my mind of negative thoughts. How else might I effectively approach a woman who despised the very sight of me?

  17

  Y OU DON’T HAVE TO TALK,” I told Lumen soon thereafter. “However, it would be in your interest to listen.” I plopped my feet on a table close to the bar, which must have grinded her gears. “Seriously. Take a load off. I’m sure Ship won’t mind covering for a spell. Will you, Ship?”

  The kid set down his tablet and grabbed an empty tray.

  “Be happy to, Raul.”

  She glared at us like we were in cahoots, which I reckon we were. But Lumen had to satisfy a larger audience: The two dozen patrons who were enamored with me at the moment. Senora Cooperative knew the smart play. She sat with her back to the customers.

  “You should be proud of that boy, Lumen. He’s an emerging young butterfly with a future as vast as the universe.”

  “I was proud of him before you sauntered into my town. If he follows you, Ship won’t live to see his next birthday. Get your feet off my table.”

  She talked to me! I honored the progress by accommodating her request. I slid my chair in close, folded my arms on the table, and forced a generous smile.

  “I fondly wish to engage in an amiable business relationship. We can find mutual benefit to our current circumstance.”

  Lumen did not return my smile.

  “What benefit will I find working with a pair of killers?”

  A direct question, and a fair one.

  “Now, I must admit, my partner and I take pride in our aptitude with that particular skillset. However, our predilection toward killing should not be a disqualifier. On the contrary, you should feel fortunate to have a pair of elite professionals on your team.”

  “Fortunate is not my word of the day.”

  “How about lucky? Honored? Grateful?”

  “Dirty. Filthy.”

  “Ah. That’s a shame. Hopefully, you’ll reevaluate.”

  Judging from how tightly she braced her arms against her chest, I doubted this woman intended to come around. Ever.