cigar of his own and swirled the
muddy coffee around in the canteen. He took another
swig and grimaced. The fire crackled, burning
cheerful y and adding some warmth to the cold stone
cave.
“This is bucolic, ain’t it, Jimmy?”
“Yep.”
Another silence. Tychus sat up, ripping another
seam, strode to the campfire, and tossed the cigar
butt in.
“I hate bucolic.”
Jim sighed. “We gotta give things a little time to
cool down,” he said.
“We need to get away from this whole damn
planet,” Tychus said. “Let things really cool down. I
gotta tel you, after Miss Daisy’s deception, I ain’t very
partial to Wicked Wayne’s no more.”
Jim said nothing. He, too, had been shocked by
Daisy’s betrayal. He thought of Evangelina, whom he
never did get to take to bed, and Misty, who had been
his bed partner frequently, and whom he found his
thoughts lingering on. But Tychus was right. The whole
thing had left a bad taste in their mouths. New Sydney
didn’t feel like their world anymore. Time to leave it to
Butler and let the marshal think he’d won.
“Yeah,” Jim said final y. He tossed his butt into the
fire as wel . “We do the Skul s’ mission and then find a
new planet.”
“Someplace a little less … sandy. And rocky,” said
Tychus. He cast a sidelong look at his friend. “You
know,” he said casual y, “I hear that O’Banon gives his
top people pretty nice apartments, sometimes right
on Tarsonis. Nice beds, baths—one of them copper
jobs. Beds even come with women.”
Jim shot him a look. “No,” he said sharply. “I ain’t
hanging with O’Banon and his type. We work for
ourselves.”
Tychus snorted. “We’re working for the Screaming
Skul s right now, Jimmy boy.”
“That’s different and you know it. The Skul s are like
us. They got their jobs and they do them, and when
they can’t, they get people they like and trust and cut
’em in for a piece of the action. That’s decent
business. But O’Banon …” His eyes hardened. “Ain’t
nothing decent about him and what he does.”
Tychus blew out a thoughtful breath. “Al right, Jim.
We’l stick with the Skul s and our own judgment for
now.” He held out his hand, and Jim handed him
another cigar. Tychus bent to the fire, popping another
seam, and shoved his face within a few inches of it
without flinching. The cigar sputtered to life. He puffed
on it and then joined Jim at the mouth of the cave,
staring into the new morning.
“Crap coffee, too-smal clothes, no real direction,
and a gorgeous sunrise,” he said, blowing out a
stream of smoke. He grinned fiercely. “Man, this life is
fun!”
CHAPTER NINE
OUTSIDE CONFEDERATE–
CONTROLLED SPACE,
KOPRULU SECTOR
Jim was not a little worried that the ancient
freighter the Skul s had delivered to them might not
survive the journey.
“At least it’s a model that’s got two seats,” Tychus
said, lounging in the copilot’s chair, which had more
than a few rivets missing. “Besides, our cover is we’re
junk dealers, Jimmy. And this boat is certainly junk.”
“Yeah, but we’re supposed to be carrying junk, not
flying it,” Jim said. “I’m al for a convincing story, but
missions are risky enough without factoring in our own
cover as a hazard.”
“Hel , Jimmy, what’s life without a little risk?”
“Safer.”
The unusual reply caused Tychus to shoot his friend
a searching look. Jim let himself grin. “And more
boring,” he was forced to admit.
“Damn straight.”
The ship’s metal groaned as if in protest of the
assessment. Jim found himself unconsciously patting
the armrest of the chair, as if the freighter Linda Lou
were an agitated pet. They’d both flown freighters
before. If the ships were nothing to write home about,
at least they were uncomplicated to maneuver.
Fortunately, the ship did not have to make a long
space flight. The orbital scrap yard the Skul s had
directed them to was
muddy coffee around in the canteen. He took another
swig and grimaced. The fire crackled, burning
cheerful y and adding some warmth to the cold stone
cave.
“This is bucolic, ain’t it, Jimmy?”
“Yep.”
Another silence. Tychus sat up, ripping another
seam, strode to the campfire, and tossed the cigar
butt in.
“I hate bucolic.”
Jim sighed. “We gotta give things a little time to
cool down,” he said.
“We need to get away from this whole damn
planet,” Tychus said. “Let things really cool down. I
gotta tel you, after Miss Daisy’s deception, I ain’t very
partial to Wicked Wayne’s no more.”
Jim said nothing. He, too, had been shocked by
Daisy’s betrayal. He thought of Evangelina, whom he
never did get to take to bed, and Misty, who had been
his bed partner frequently, and whom he found his
thoughts lingering on. But Tychus was right. The whole
thing had left a bad taste in their mouths. New Sydney
didn’t feel like their world anymore. Time to leave it to
Butler and let the marshal think he’d won.
“Yeah,” Jim said final y. He tossed his butt into the
fire as wel . “We do the Skul s’ mission and then find a
new planet.”
“Someplace a little less … sandy. And rocky,” said
Tychus. He cast a sidelong look at his friend. “You
know,” he said casual y, “I hear that O’Banon gives his
top people pretty nice apartments, sometimes right
on Tarsonis. Nice beds, baths—one of them copper
jobs. Beds even come with women.”
Jim shot him a look. “No,” he said sharply. “I ain’t
hanging with O’Banon and his type. We work for
ourselves.”
Tychus snorted. “We’re working for the Screaming
Skul s right now, Jimmy boy.”
“That’s different and you know it. The Skul s are like
us. They got their jobs and they do them, and when
they can’t, they get people they like and trust and cut
’em in for a piece of the action. That’s decent
business. But O’Banon …” His eyes hardened. “Ain’t
nothing decent about him and what he does.”
Tychus blew out a thoughtful breath. “Al right, Jim.
We’l stick with the Skul s and our own judgment for
now.” He held out his hand, and Jim handed him
another cigar. Tychus bent to the fire, popping another
seam, and shoved his face within a few inches of it
without flinching. The cigar sputtered to life. He puffed
on it and then joined Jim at the mouth of the cave,
staring into the new morning.
“Crap coffee, too-smal clothes, no real direction,
and a gorgeous sunrise,” he said, blowing out a
stream of smoke. He grinned fiercely. “Man, this life is
fun!”
CHAPTER NINE
OUTSIDE CONFEDERATE–
CONTROLLED SPACE,
KOPRULU SECTOR
Jim was not a little worried that the ancient
freighter the Skul s had delivered to them might not
survive the journey.
“At least it’s a model that’s got two seats,” Tychus
said, lounging in the copilot’s chair, which had more
than a few rivets missing. “Besides, our cover is we’re
junk dealers, Jimmy. And this boat is certainly junk.”
“Yeah, but we’re supposed to be carrying junk, not
flying it,” Jim said. “I’m al for a convincing story, but
missions are risky enough without factoring in our own
cover as a hazard.”
“Hel , Jimmy, what’s life without a little risk?”
“Safer.”
The unusual reply caused Tychus to shoot his friend
a searching look. Jim let himself grin. “And more
boring,” he was forced to admit.
“Damn straight.”
The ship’s metal groaned as if in protest of the
assessment. Jim found himself unconsciously patting
the armrest of the chair, as if the freighter Linda Lou
were an agitated pet. They’d both flown freighters
before. If the ships were nothing to write home about,
at least they were uncomplicated to maneuver.
Fortunately, the ship did not have to make a long
space flight. The orbital scrap yard the Skul s had
directed them to was
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