“Drop the blade,” she said. “And the blaster.”

  Nate dropped his street steel, tossing the blaster next to it. “Now what?”

  “Now we go see the boss.”

  Nate held his smile. Perfect.

  Inside the building, cracked off-white ceramic walls stretched ahead. People inside, who Nate labeled ‘Pearl’s thugs,’ were less panicked than Darin. Nate figured that was on account of them working out it was a false alarm, but the flashing red lights and loud noise seemed to be setting a few people’s teeth on edge.

  Anelise pushed him forward with the muzzle of her plasma cannon. Nate kept walking. They passed a security booth, guards inside tapping at consoles, trying to get the noise to stop. Nate glimpsed a feed from the exterior cams, nodded to himself, and kept walking.

  Things were working out according to plan. Anelise holding a plasma weapon to his back wasn’t a hundred percent to script, but if he kept his wits about him, he might survive the day and get Valerie that new chair.

  A door ahead opened to reveal a small room. Inside the room, two goons minted from the same fab stood on either side of a weathered chair. In front of the chair stood Pearlescent Fang. Pearl was a monster of a man, his white suit draped over a massive frame. Nate had heard tell Pearl had been a cage fighter back in the day. While ordering flunkies around wasn’t the same kind of work that had built Pearl’s muscular body, he still looked capable of pulling Nate’s arms off. His head was shaved. Legend said Pearl never smiled, not in all his long years on Cadence. He’d been born with a frown he could interchange for a glower at a moment’s notice.

  “Inside,” said Anelise.

  Nate shrugged, slipped inside, and flashed a smile. He found no takers. “Hey. How are we all doing?”

  “Sit down, you grinning clown,” said Pearl. Nate looked around. There weren’t any chairs other than the one between the goons. He took it. Pearl leaned forward. Nate saw his teeth were replaced by gold ones. Weird, but I guess a gangster needs something to do with his coin. “What are you playing at?” Behind Pearl, Anelise stepped into the room, shutting the door. Against the wall, old-style 2D panels showed cam footage of the exterior. While eyes were on Nate, they weren’t watching the screens. He best do his job.

  “Thing is—” Nate stopped as Pearl’s ham-sized fist rammed into his stomach. Nate curled over, trying to breathe, but his diaphragm was paralyzed. Just a tiny bit of air. Just a spoonful. After agonizing seconds, where Nate was sure his face was going red or purple, he gasped in a lungful. Pearl slammed his fist into Nate’s stomach again. Nate slipped to the ground.

  Pearl hauled him upright. “You were saying.”

  “Thing is,” wheezed Nate, “I was out for a stroll.” The cam footage on the wall continued to tell its tale. Job’s not done yet, Chevell.

  “You think you’re a funny guy, don’t you?” Pearl hit Nate in the gut again.

  “No.” It came out more as a gasp than an actual word, but Nate figured folk would know what he meant. After a moment, he said. “I am a funny guy.”

  Slam. Another punch from Pearl. Some of Nate’s ribs gave way. “Time for another joke?” offered Pearl.

  Nate held a hand up, marveling at how it shook. He beckoned Pearl closer. When the monster leaned in, Nate hissed, “Put some hip into it next time.”

  Pearl roared, slamming Nate into the chair. Nate’s head hit the wooden back, and he saw stars. “Who are you here with?”

  “Just me,” rasped Nate. “Honest citizen, trying to make my way.” He watched as Pearl cocked a hand back, closing his eyes for the blow. It never landed, no doubt on account of the alarms going silent.

  Nate saw movement on the screens behind them. Who should walk up outside Pearlescent Fang’s super-secret base, but the fine Guard officers Adelmar and Kendra. Valerie’s call to them was timed to the second. Nate coughed. “I guess you’ve got me dead to rights.”

  Pearl blinked at him, then followed his eyes to the screens. “No way you’re working with the Guard.”

  “Not as such, no.” Nate spat, wincing as his ribs grated. “Thing is, no one works with the Guard, amirite? Hey?” No responses. Tough crowd. “Way it’s always been.”

  Pearl nodded, a slow movement like a psychotic cow might make. “You don’t work for the Guard. The Guard works on you.”

  “You understand,” said Nate. “I can’t very well roll on ‘em. Make a life a lot harder here under the domes.”

  “Life could stop,” suggested Pearl.

  “I see you’re a tough negotiator.” Nate fingered his ribs, wincing. “Here’s what I know. The ugly one—”

  “Which one’s the ugly one?” Pearl frowned at the screens. “Adelmar or Kendra?”

  Nate blinked. “You’ve got it wrong. I mean Darin.”

  “Darin?” said Pearl.

  “Ugliest man alive,” agreed Nate.

  “He is kind of difficult to look upon,” said Anelise.

  “Anyway,” said Nate. “Darin says he’s got some deal going down. Speaks with the Guard, see? The plan is for me to cause a diversion, then the Guard come in. Investigate your place, take what they want, and no one’s the wiser.”

  “The alarm wasn’t you,” said Pearl.

  “No,” said Nate. “Not much good with tech. I was going to start a fight with Darin. Make it look good for the cams. You can see me on the screen if you wind it back.”

  “Already seen it,” said Anelise. “He’s telling the truth.”

  “The alarm was unexpected, but made a convenient diversion,” said Nate. “I’d take it as a kindness if you could forget my part in this, Pearl. I’ve told you the truth, hand to God, as I know it. Please. I’ve got people to look after. You’ve already fouled our plan. I guess the Guard won’t get their money-printing tech.” He slapped a hand over his mouth in horror. “Oh, hell. I wasn’t supposed to say that.”

  Pearl roared again, yanking the door open and running from the room. Anelise followed on his heels, along with the two identical goons, who may as well be for show for all the good they’d done.

  Nate stood, wincing, stretched his side, then opened the door. He retraced his steps the way he’d come. As he made the main entranceway, he saw Adelmar and Kendra, bound and on their knees. Adelmar saw Nate, and screamed, “You! You! I’ll…”

  Pearl loomed over Adelmar. “Listen. The boy’s already given you up. Way things work down here? We only need one person to tell the truth. No deals.” He jerked his head, and Adelmar and Kendra’s eyes both went wide with horror as they were dragged away by more goons, their yellow capes trailing on the ground. Pearl turned to Nate. “I should probably kill you.”

  “Probably,” agreed Nate. “But you’re not going to. You need a man like me. Honest. Reliable. Kind that doesn’t frighten easily.”

  Pearl frowned. “Honest?” He paused, as one of his team came up and whispered in his ear. Pearl’s face went pale. “Gone? What do you mean, it’s gone?” He rounded on Nate.

  Nate held up his hands. “Whatever it was, it wasn’t me. I’ve been with you the whole time.”

  Pearl stomped closer. “Who? Don’t lie to me, boy. I’ll have you flayed.”

  “I’ll allow, that’s a powerful incentive.” Nate nodded, considering. “Only, avoiding death now for death later doesn’t work for me.”

  “I could keep beating on you,” offered Pearl.

  “Could,” agreed Nate. “Whatever you’ve lost will be long gone by then.”

  Pearl thought that through. “You have my word. Freedom for truth. Tell me who else is involved.”

  “Well,” said Nate. “I might answer that by way of a question. Where’s Anelise?”

  Chapter Three

  The Triage Tearoom felt too small for the stories they had to tell, so Don took them to Tennessee Halls. The hotel was so lush it felt like the very walls were made from Empire coin. Nate’s eyes almost popped out of his skull as they entered the vaulted interior, chandeliers high above, gilded and bright. The three of them made it about ten paces before security officers swarmed them. They ignored Don, making a beeline for Nate and Valerie.

  Don held up a hand. “That won’t be necessary.”

  “As you say,” said a security officer, bowing and backing away.

  Don led the way to the bar. A few brave souls were sipping hard liquor. Within minutes, and by a magic Nate didn’t understand, the bar emptied, half-finished drinks left behind. Don led them to a table next to the wall where a large ornate fireplace burned real wood. That was madness, as burning wood in a domed habitat was asking for trouble. Importing wood to burn? Craziness. Then again, the rich did whatever they wanted.

  “How’d it go?” asked Don.

  Nate rubbed his ribs. “About as expected. You?”

  “It was all Valerie,” said Don. “I led Anelise on a merry rooftop chase.”

  Valerie nodded. “Once I opened the roof louvers above the vault, Don slipped inside. He grabbed the loot and waited until Anelise came by. Made to run, but not too fast.”

  “I lost her over by the Merchant’s Quarter.” Don’s brow furrowed in doubt.

  “I doubt we’ll hear of her again. Today’s a good day. Two Guard officers removed. Some of Pearl’s most trusted lieutenants dealt with. And you’ve got yourself tech for printing money.” Nate heard his tone sour.

  “Something wrong?” Don’s face was expressionless.

  “Sorry.” Nate sighed. “It’s the way things are. I get it. Rich get richer, poor get dirtier.”

  “Nate.” Valerie put a warning hand on his arm.

  He shook her off. “Sorry. I don’t mean nothing by it.”

  Don nodded. He pulled a data sliver from his pocket, offering it to Nate. “Here.”

  Nate turned it this way and that. “This is it?”

  “It is.” Don nodded. “You hold the blueprints for a technology to create more Empire coin. Any denomination you want. Full works. Crypto keys, good enough to fool the Mint. Many would kill for what you hold.”

  “Why are you giving it to me?” Nate felt sick.

  “I don’t want it.” Don stood back, face blank as he studied Nate, before glancing at Valerie. “I don’t need it. But you surely do. A new chair for your friend. Maybe buy a better place. Money to get off-world.”

  Nate nodded, turning the chip over. “Rich getting richer, without an end.”

  “Reckon so,” said Don.

  “We could use the money.” Something in Valerie’s tone held a plea Nate found hard to ignore. “Pearl could work out what we’ve done. Might come for us.”

  “Might.” Nate sighed, then tossed the data sliver into the fire. Valerie’s eyes almost popped out of her head as he did it. Don nodded, as if he’d seen the proof to a complicated equation.

  “What did you do that for?” hissed Valerie.

  “You can’t make money. That’s not the way it works.” Nate leaned toward her. “Sure, we might get Empire coin. But someone’ll have to pay. It’ll be people like you and me. Never moneyed folk. Never them. Wouldn’t sit right with me, putting debt on an invisible slate. Making off like lords when others suffer.”

  She nodded, but her face was miserable. “We could really use the coin.”

  Don cleared his throat. “I’m afraid I haven’t been entirely honest with you.”

  Nate stiffened. He backed up a little, making space. Ready to fight, but not to run, because Valerie was here. “What do you mean?”

  “I need a person of good skill, but of better quality.” Don said quality like it was a tangible thing, made of steel and ceramicrete. “I need an agent of the Empire.”

  “You what?” said Nate.

  Don smiled. “Ganymede is important. It’s important to the Empire. Things come through here we never see elsewhere. Things like slaves and stolen cargo. Hulls breached in the hard black. All manner of evil and mischief. They wash up here, buyers ready to take ‘em at the right price. I’m aiming to fix all that.”

  “Who are you?” said Nate.

  “Oh,” said Don. “I’m Dominic Fergelic.”

  “I knew he looked familiar.” Valerie snapped her fingers. “I knew it!”

  “You’re the Emperor in Waiting?” Nate laughed, then stopped at Don’s — no, Dom’s — glare. He felt surprise flush his face like a new dawn. “You’re next in line for the throne?”

  “Yes,” said Dom. “I’ve answered your questions and set you square. I’ll keep my word. A new chair for Valerie. Charter off this world on a ship of your choice, anywhere in the Empire. But Nate? I’ve seen a curious person in you. One who shores up with criminals and vagrants but won’t steal from a stranger. One who backed a rich off-worlder against the corruption of his planet, when the might of the villainous would come calling after. I could use a man like you.”

  Nate goggled. “The Emperor?”

  “In Waiting.” Dom nodded.

  “Bit of a hands-on Empire?” Nate needed time to think. This was an unexpected end to a surprising day.

  “Stop asking questions,” hissed Valerie. She looked to Dom. “Of course he’s going to say yes.”

  “I am?” Nate felt like the world was heavy and light at the same time. “Why?”

  “Because it’s who you are,” said Valerie.

  Dom held out his hand. “Well?”

  Nate clasped Dom’s hand. A rogue and a liar, working for the Emperor in Waiting. But with a chance to right the wrongs of a broken Ganymede. Help those who might not help themselves. He glared at Valerie. “Hell. Of course I’ll help. One condition.”

  “Most people don’t make conditions on the throne.” Dom didn’t look angry though. Curious, like he’d ordered chicken and got a steak instead.

  “Most people aren’t me,” said Nate.

  “What’s your condition?”

  “Valerie’s on the team,” said Nate. “She goes where I go.”

  Dom smiled. “That’s not a condition. That’s the way it’s got to be.”

  Nate grinned. There might be a future for him on Ganymede yet.

  II

  Dragon’s Run

  Meet Grace Gushiken

  Our story starts on Starfire Station, a remote trading outpost orbiting a star without planets.

  Grace Gushiken will bring down a corrupt regime, defeat alien foes, and save the crew of an ex-war heavy lifter from the might of the Republic. She’ll do this from the shadows, because she’s feared as an esper. No one trusts those who can read your thoughts. Grace never mastered it; she can only read emotions.

  At fifteen, she’s recently escaped her father’s estate in Japan. He trained her as an assassin and spy, wanting her to murder the Emperor, but she made it out and stole his sword. He’s hunting her among the stars, using wealth and power to find her. Grace moves like a gymnast, and hunts like a tigress. She’s never learned to trust.

  Starfire Station’s home to vagabonds and merchants, soldiers and strays. New to the starfaring life, Grace relies on her training and her wits to stay hidden. She feels like the Empire’s hounds are closing in.

  A runaway might be able to change the fate of the universe, but she’d have to find a place to call home first.

  Running Forever

  This is the third time Father’s come for me.

  Grace stood, head bowed so hair fell over her face. She jostled for position in a line of desperate, dirty people trying to enter Starfire Station. They smelled of despair and coming off them were waves of doubt/sadness/endless journey. Grace didn’t know what to make of so many people with so little hope, but she knew what to make of the Empire troops waiting beyond border control. The station’s air cyclers were working hard, but still couldn’t keep the heat from rising from the press of so many bodies.

  Her lane held four families ahead in the queue. Grace came here on the Immortal, a starship so old it might live up to its name. Captain Topham hired her as a deckhand, his thoughts reeking of gullible/cheat/lie/steal as he’d looked down at her fifteen-year-old face. It was his intent to rob her of hard-earned wages that led her to break into his quarters, stealing two fistfuls of good Empire coin before slipping from the Immortal.

  The rest of the crew, a surly uncommunicative lot, were in a different immigration lane. Last time Father sent people for her, they’d boarded her starship before it docked. She’d blown an escape pod for cover, then hid on the boarding party’s ship, escaping with her own hunters. This time, they laid a trap onboard a station. Empire soldiers already swarmed the Immortal behind her. There was no escape that way, and besides, it would be hard to explain to Captain Topham why she had so many of his coins.

  A family made it through the screening gate ahead, the holo above blinking NEXT PLEASE. Three families to go. Only a handful of minutes to come up with another plan.

  Beyond the screening point, Grace saw a group pulled aside. A girl roughly Grace’s age was separated from a wailing mother and an angry father. An Empire soldier shoved the girl against a wall, blaster muzzle to her head, ignoring her cries while another trooper scanned her. Grace hunched her shoulders, trying to ignore the panic/run/run/run from the girl, and the hate/desperation/fear from her father, and the please/no/help/someone help from her mother. Their emotions made Grace’s heart quicken in response, the thud-thud-thud loud in her ears.

  Grace’s father never felt like that about her. She looked down, ashamed.

  A commotion from two lanes to the right drew her eye. One of the Immortal’s crew was receiving similar attention from Empire soldiers. Leslie Casque had crewed with Grace these last three weeks. He was dirty, skinny, and so full of hate for all things in the universe she wondered how he could bear it. The reason Empire soldiers held him against a wall, weapons and voices raised in equal measure, was because Leslie Casque had stolen Grace’s sword.

  She’d known it was him from the lingering smell in her cabin. Aboard the Immortal, she had no options to recover it. A young woman shouldn’t have a sword hundreds of years old. She shouldn’t have a sword at all. Grace planned to convince Leslie to give her sword back once on Starfire.