That Pertumit Garundi Thing Part 3

Behind me, a small flotilla of cleaning servitor bots floated along, mopping the floor.  I took one look at myself in the mirror in the medical refresher and winced.  My face was a massive bruise, and when I peeled out of the prison jumpsuit, my side wasn’t much better.  The water let me know where the rest of the injuries were, but at least I was able to get the chucksa out of my hair.

A soft chime alerted me that the water was going to shut off, so I found the towel and stepped out.  I scrubbed at my hair and hoped I still had a brush somewhere on the ship.  A bot delivered my clothing which smelled strongly of industrial disinfectant.  I yanked on my tunic, trousers, and boots.  All basic black, nothing to see here.  I braided my wet hair as best I could and stepped out of the fresher.

The alien holding my knives wasn’t one I’d encountered before.  It bowed to me and offered the case holding my identification, com unit, and knives like it were bestowing royal jewels.  I expected it to back away and leave but instead, it watched me as I strapped my belt around my waist.

Aware that Winter wasn’t exactly known for her patience, I tried to hurry but knife placement deserves privacy…something the alien wasn’t providing at the moment.

The creature must have sensed my discomfort. “My employer would like to offer you a small token of gratitude and a request.”

Its voice was oddly modulated and sibilant, like it, spoke through a vocoder.  I finished sliding the last of my knives into the sheath along my spine and I flipped my braid over the handle. 

“Your employer is…?” I faced the creature and still couldn’t discern much about it other than a small elephantine snout and gray skin. 

“A wealthy patron.  We would have approached you earlier but…”  The creature waved spindly gray fingers in the air.

“And yet here you are.  Talk fast.” I put my hands on my hips and waited.  I didn’t sense any animosity from the creature, only intense curiosity.

The creature bowed again.  “Our patron would like you to complete a dossier on your companion, the one who calls herself by many names.  Our employer wishes to know anything and everything you know about her and will pay you handsomely for it.  We ask that you think about it as there is no need to provide an answer now.  You will find that we have deposited a token of our patron’s gratitude into your shell account on Ualune.  You may use it as you see fit, and should you decline our offer, the money is still yours to keep.  We have also uploaded a list of questions to your ship account under a password-protected encode.  The password is Maeyris.  We thank you for your time.” 

I blinked and the creature had faded into nothingness. I could still feel it in the room, but it had managed to visually distort itself.  The doors opened from the outside and a security detail stood waiting.  The creature’s presence faded once the doors were open and I couldn’t risk it knowing I could feel it.  I could not sense its thoughts, but its life force was a glowing spot in my mind.  I was escorted back out to the lobby where Winter waited and I thought about telling her about the odd proposal.

Winter peeled herself off the wall and joined me in exiting the jail.  Fairlawn station was just beginning the dawn rotation.  I had to almost jog to keep up with Winter’s long strides.  We passed the food vendor stalls floating through the promenade and I felt my stomach rumble.

“Winter!”

She whirled around to look at me.  “Could we at least stop for a cup of tsai? My head is still pounding!”

She inclined her head and gestured with her arm for me to proceed her.  I walked along the promenade and chose the vendor that was still anchored to the deck. 

As soon as we were seated, the table encapsulated us in a clear bubble and rose from the deck.  We floated upward to the repulsor cart where an elderly human male tended various pots, pans, and ancient iron kettles.  He waved and pointed to the tabletop, where the holographic menu appeared. Winter slipped a device from the vest pocket of her flight suit and sat the tiny machine onto the table.  It chirped and an indicator light turned green on its side. 

“Now we can talk?” I glanced up at Winter who regarded me unblinkingly.

“We have a job if you want to do it.” She tapped the tabletop with a fingernail and ordered.  Two cups of steaming tsai appeared moments later.  “You want anything else?”

“You mean I can order actual food, and my stint in the constabulary  didn’t break us?”

Winter sat back and folded her arms.  “We have enough.”

I was starving despite my pounding headache.  I scanned through the menu and ordered ramen and kinpiyo, with a side of quinchee and krokettes.  “What’s the job?”

“Ah, this station’s premier casino is holding a card contest.  I’ve enough to cover the entry fee if you’re game.”

The delicious scent of the ramen wafted out through the delivery port.  I looked up to take my dishes and the old man waved at me from behind his red lanterns.

I pried the wrapper off the utensils with my teeth and broke the sticks apart. I tried to be discrete about rolling them between my palms so as not to insult the owner of the restaurant. 

“He’s not watching.” Winter waved at my food.

‘Maybe.”  I mumbled to her and dug into the spicy noodles.  After days on k-rations, the taste was heavenly. I stuffed several mouthfuls in before I realized Winter wasn’t eating.

I swallowed hard. “You aren’t eating.  Why?”

She tossed her head back and snorted. The motion caused the colorful tattoo across the base of her throat to be visible briefly.  “Don’t worry. I am not hungry.”

I lifted an eyebrow at her and she shrugged.  I let it go for the moment, but she had a habit of not eating regularly anyway.

“This job,” I said between mouthfuls, “ Ca we pull it off with just the two of us?”

Winter sipped her tsai.  “I think so, there’s nothing in the rule schedule that would prevent me from wearing a hood and halo.  Second place is more than enough credits to get us out of here and solvent for a while.

I nodded and polished off the rest of my food.  The name of the place is Miko’s and if you ever get to Fairlawn station, I’d recommend it.

When Darryl and Meriloo were with us, the gambling scam was easy for us.  Darryl would set herself up as a staked player in the game.  Meriloo would dress like a wealthy patron and be a distraction if needed.  Winter, because of her distinctive height and hair, would pose as a bodyguard.  Me…I’d vanish.  My glamor abilities let me disappear in the minds of everyone, with the exception of a few alien races.  When I came across other races with similar abilities, I admit to being curious.  Most of them, I knew or had at least heard of.  My gray friend from earlier?  I had no idea, but it hadn’t been the time to investigate either.  If you think I would let it go, you’d be wrong.  Time is a relative thing, so I have plenty of it to discover the identity of my benefactor and I will…eventually.

Anyway, all gambling halls are the same essentially.  The gig was easier with Darryl and Meriloo but more dangerous.  Most often, Darryl would get drunk and forget that she had to follow the measured stake in the game.  She’d over bet and sometimes our progress ended sooner than it should.  We had more than a few shouting matches with her over it.  Darryl laughed me off to my face and called Meriloo her “pet psychopath” which didn’t endear her to Meriloo.  Darryl would listen to Winter though. Honestly, I never understood the dynamic between them.  I did understand that they respected each other, especially each other’s fighting skills.

I don’t know.  Maybe you’ve heard about it, maybe not.  But, there is a Taverna legend about how Darryl and Winter met.  The short version of the story is they completely destroyed a drinking establishment in a drunken fistfight.  Having witnessed both of them in hand-to-hand brawls, I would say that Darryl’s advantage was sheer power.  Our “late” captain was a heavy worlder and came from the Yeltsen mining world of Kapros.  Humanoid Kaprosians, in case you’ve never met one, are short like me, but stockier in build.  They are muscular and exude an air of toughness, even when they aren’t doing anything particular.  They are quick-tempered, in general.  My father used to say that Kaprosians were elegant in their unique way.  I did not understand that remark until I met Darryl.  Darryl had a natural gift of athletic ability and stamina, which I guess would be useful in an asteroid mining colony.  She handled zero-gee better than anyone I have ever met, and my guess was that she was born in it.

Anyway, the first thing I did when I got to the casino was find a place to stash my gear. I found a loose ceiling seam in the women’s fresher above the largest humanoid stall and placed my makeup and a fingertip length case that held a dress.  I do own dresses, but they are not my preferred style,  Pants work better if you are running from something or are in a fight. So after that, I slipped in my ear com and concentrated on making myself and everything on my person disappear.  It is harder than it looks.  When I was young, I practiced the skill of making small things vanish, like the rings on my fingers and toes.  When I became proficient with that, I worked on making my clothing vanish.  It takes time and concentration to be able to hold a glamor.  Fortunately for me, I’ve been doing it long enough now that it is almost second nature and I can hold it almost without thinking. 

I glamoured myself and waited for someone to open the doors, and I did not have to wait long.  An elderly woman with an Astro staff and an aide running along behind her swept past and I darted out the automatic doors.  I agreed to meet Winter at the check-in next to the ballroom and I found her easily.  She was standing in line, hunched over and with her hair covered by her gray hood.  Most of the people around her were subdued in their dress.  It seems to be some kind of unwritten rule among serious gamblers not to stand out, although the closer you look to vagrant, the more likely you are to be escorted out by security.  I would call everyone in the line dressed in high-end hobo.  I look at their shoes or boots. The cleaner they are, the more of a mark the being is unless, of course, they sought out the services of the casino’s shoeshine boys.  Decorated boots meant greenhorn, somebody I categorized as wealthy and obvious about it.  In my observation, those were the folks that spent credits like fluid and were only competing for a good time.  They typically weren’t skilled players.  Bland, non-descript shoes or boots, meant the player was serious and might be a professional card player.  No boots, or claws, well, they were hard to judge unless the claws had a decoration of some kind or a sheath.  Then I would put them in the same category as the greenhorn.  Those beings with actual green horns I tried to keep clear of because no telling what the horn could sense. 

Winter got through the line with her number and strode down the hallway to the card salon.  She found her player chair and sat down to log her credits into the reader on the table.  Then she sat back and gave me a slight nod.

Winter is one of those races who I think can see through glamors.  There are so few of her kind left that I don’t honestly know.  In deep space, you hear stories about the mighty Hashtaaleen, the proud race from the Ebrak Seran section of space, and how their world was completely destroyed by the Bildarthians.  There are tales of refugee colonies, of slaver ships that took refugees into The Realm worlds, and how very few free Hastaaleen roam the spaceways, like specters in the great blackness.  I’ve never asked her if she can see me, I only assume that she can.  She turned her head in my direction, gave a slight nod, and then went back to gazing at her reader.  I took that as my cue to go read the room.

As Fairlawn casinos go, this one is on the elite and exclusive end. The color scheme is muted red with swirling carpets and gold accents with crystal singing sculptures everywhere. Wealthy beings from all over the known worlds, and The Realm drifted in and out like colorful avians, complete with feathered plumage.  Most of them stayed in the entertainment centers, food venues, or the main casino.  A few drifted into the salon to witness the player duels to come.  I spied a few that I’d seen vids on, wealthy patrons from the Realm, princelings, and rulers of half a dozen worlds.  There were others, more obvious to me because of their attempts to blend in.  But they were there, hiding in plain sight.