Claugh spy ship.
She hated the idea. In the search for her father, she’d already lost twenty-six hours. Since she’d just added the Claugh nib Dovvyth major to her growing list of problems, she suspected time was on his side, not hers. If she couldn’t steal the Kawl Fergus , she’d find another ship, but she had to get off station. Now.
She dodged a few more ooze lures before noticing trash on the walkways, signs that squatters inhabited the tunnels. The walkway narrowed and she blundered into a boy hunting tezwoule with a makeshift sling. He’d already killed three and carried them by draping their scaly tails over one shoulder.
He yelped, dropped his catch, and sprinted down the walkway.
“Wait a minute!” she yelled. “I just . . .” She broke off and sighed. “I just want directions.”
Several meters down the walkway he vaulted over the railing and dropped out of sight. He screamed, the sound high and scared.
Jayleia’s breath froze in her chest.
The sound of a body dropping to the deck echoed down the tunnel.
She gritted her teeth. Leave it, Jay. It’s an extortion scam. You know it is.
She should mind her own business. First unwritten, but well-known rule for “How to Survive Silver City.” She should keep going. From his clothes and his presence in the tunnels, she could assume the kid was a native. He could take care of himself. Right?
“Damn.”
She tore down the walkway and peered over the railing.
He’d fallen so that she could see only one out-flung hand. His sling lay in a jumble.
Resisting the urge to pound her forehead against the metal railing in frustration, Jay climbed over and dropped to the deck plating three meters below.
Something sticky and wet struck her right cheek. She yelped in surprise and stumbled back, her hand automatically coming up to wipe the slime away.
An ooze.
She huffed out a breath. It had tried to sting her and failed, meaning it had stung someone within the past few minutes.
She offered the uncaring ooze a dirty look before kneeling beside the child. Dark brown hair tangled on his damp forehead.
Her heart squeezed tight. The boy was sweating. His respiration was rapid, audible, and shallow. She could see the sting site, an angry, red bull’s-eye, the flesh swelling as she watched.
She rubbed her cheek where the ooze had tagged her. What kind of luck was it that she’d scared the life out of a little kid, he’d run right into an ooze, and then turned out to be allergic?
If this had started as a bid to collect a payoff, it had turned deadly.
Jay blew out a shaky breath. Even if the boy had intended to guilt her out of money she didn’t have, he’d gotten more than he’d bargained for. His reaction would kill him unless he got treatment. Fast. Even then . . . she stopped the thought, shook her head, and scooped him into her arms.
She jogged for the docks. Any ship with medical facilities aboard couldn’t legally deny her emergency access. Of course, on Silver City, “legal” didn’t often play well unless it benefitted the Mining Guild.
A figure dropped into Jay’s path, gun in hand, pointed right at her. “Hold it! Put the kid down!”
Jayleia paused.
A young woman, rage overlaying fear in her eyes, faced her. Curly hair poked out from under a filthy cap. A lush figure filled out her motley assortment of spacer’s coveralls, a threadbare vest from the long-disbanded Gaustoron Space Force, and mismatched shoes.
“If I put him down, he’ll die,” Jayleia said.
The rage heightened in the woman’s face. “What did you do to him?”
“He’s having a reaction to ooze venom. I don’t have time for twenty questions. Do you have access to antihistamines?”
“Ooze?” The muzzle of the gun drooped. “Show me.”
Jay eased sideways, turning so the woman could see the puffy red mark on the boy’s neck.
She swore, then eyed Jayleia’s cheek. “You were chasing him. The ooze got him, and then tried to hit you.”
“I
She hated the idea. In the search for her father, she’d already lost twenty-six hours. Since she’d just added the Claugh nib Dovvyth major to her growing list of problems, she suspected time was on his side, not hers. If she couldn’t steal the Kawl Fergus , she’d find another ship, but she had to get off station. Now.
She dodged a few more ooze lures before noticing trash on the walkways, signs that squatters inhabited the tunnels. The walkway narrowed and she blundered into a boy hunting tezwoule with a makeshift sling. He’d already killed three and carried them by draping their scaly tails over one shoulder.
He yelped, dropped his catch, and sprinted down the walkway.
“Wait a minute!” she yelled. “I just . . .” She broke off and sighed. “I just want directions.”
Several meters down the walkway he vaulted over the railing and dropped out of sight. He screamed, the sound high and scared.
Jayleia’s breath froze in her chest.
The sound of a body dropping to the deck echoed down the tunnel.
She gritted her teeth. Leave it, Jay. It’s an extortion scam. You know it is.
She should mind her own business. First unwritten, but well-known rule for “How to Survive Silver City.” She should keep going. From his clothes and his presence in the tunnels, she could assume the kid was a native. He could take care of himself. Right?
“Damn.”
She tore down the walkway and peered over the railing.
He’d fallen so that she could see only one out-flung hand. His sling lay in a jumble.
Resisting the urge to pound her forehead against the metal railing in frustration, Jay climbed over and dropped to the deck plating three meters below.
Something sticky and wet struck her right cheek. She yelped in surprise and stumbled back, her hand automatically coming up to wipe the slime away.
An ooze.
She huffed out a breath. It had tried to sting her and failed, meaning it had stung someone within the past few minutes.
She offered the uncaring ooze a dirty look before kneeling beside the child. Dark brown hair tangled on his damp forehead.
Her heart squeezed tight. The boy was sweating. His respiration was rapid, audible, and shallow. She could see the sting site, an angry, red bull’s-eye, the flesh swelling as she watched.
She rubbed her cheek where the ooze had tagged her. What kind of luck was it that she’d scared the life out of a little kid, he’d run right into an ooze, and then turned out to be allergic?
If this had started as a bid to collect a payoff, it had turned deadly.
Jay blew out a shaky breath. Even if the boy had intended to guilt her out of money she didn’t have, he’d gotten more than he’d bargained for. His reaction would kill him unless he got treatment. Fast. Even then . . . she stopped the thought, shook her head, and scooped him into her arms.
She jogged for the docks. Any ship with medical facilities aboard couldn’t legally deny her emergency access. Of course, on Silver City, “legal” didn’t often play well unless it benefitted the Mining Guild.
A figure dropped into Jay’s path, gun in hand, pointed right at her. “Hold it! Put the kid down!”
Jayleia paused.
A young woman, rage overlaying fear in her eyes, faced her. Curly hair poked out from under a filthy cap. A lush figure filled out her motley assortment of spacer’s coveralls, a threadbare vest from the long-disbanded Gaustoron Space Force, and mismatched shoes.
“If I put him down, he’ll die,” Jayleia said.
The rage heightened in the woman’s face. “What did you do to him?”
“He’s having a reaction to ooze venom. I don’t have time for twenty questions. Do you have access to antihistamines?”
“Ooze?” The muzzle of the gun drooped. “Show me.”
Jay eased sideways, turning so the woman could see the puffy red mark on the boy’s neck.
She swore, then eyed Jayleia’s cheek. “You were chasing him. The ooze got him, and then tried to hit you.”
“I
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