they were in motion. The flyer skimmed along the frothy break of the canopy. "No Peace can find their way deep in the belly of Sol." They'd land on the field, then hop a cargo carrier on the beamer train—not the first time someone had smuggled contraband via that route. A little pax for the Peace to look the other way, not a problem—everyone wanted a little extra cash during the wedding swell.
Simon glanced at Mica, and found her already staring at him.
She lifted a brow, as if to say, You'll never pull this off.
He kept his gaze level. I have nothing left to lose.
Far off on the horizon, the jewel of Sol City appeared, a sapphire bubble within which the atmosphere was breathable without plugs and the temps were kept at a steady 72 degrees. Dangerous native flora had been excised and the most colorful cultivated. The mineral mica had been ground into glitter powder and incorporated into the facing of many of the buildings, so that the city sparkled. Spires needled the sky. The highest, of course, belonged to the family Sol.
"Take us in, O." Simon tapped the comm, a single ping , to raise the halo. Miranda, his contact on the other side, would transpose the license numbers and get them in under an "Unidentified" tag. By the time the Peace investigated, they'd be on their way.
Instead, a monotone female voice responded. "Please hold your position for Peace escort and transmit the ident-tags of your four human occupants."
"You said you could get us in," O grumbled.
Mica had leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes. A soft smile played about her mouth, as if to say, Told you.
"Then we do the trade now," Jace said. "We tell them we have the princess and we'll kill her if we don't get…" his eyeballs did a greedy back-and-forth twitch "…100 thou pax. Minimum."
Simon ignored him. A princess's ransom was worth upwards of 50 mil, but the point was moot.
Peace flyers winged out of the halo toward the dragon. The flyers resembled razor bugs, which meant more stings.
Simon shook his head. "We get the hell out of here." The dragon could outmaneuver the Peace flyers easily. "And try this again later, on our terms." They'd have to go the other way, the hushed way, into the mines and chance the scavengers.
Otis was already pulling up the viewer, which broke into multilayers of topography, atmosphere, and orbit. Best place would be King's Valley and its jungle. Again.
Simon hated razor bugs.
The auto voice repeated. "Please transmit the ident-tags of your four human occupants." The Peace positioned themselves on each side of the dragon.
"Or you could deal with me," Mica put in. She had that narrow-lidded look again.
O had his hand on the tremble, but flicked a glance Simon's way. "What does she mean?"
"I say we deal with her father." Jace had his slicer gun in hand. Did he plan to kill their hostage up front, and then ask for money?
"I can guarantee your lives, if you return me now," Mica said. "My word as a Sol."
Damn the smooth voice. Simon didn't know what that tone meant.
"She must think we're idiots," O said.
A smile cracked her face, which meant, Yes.
Simon had to get Pilar's dowry. There was no time to hide and wait—he'd already waited too long for an opportunity like this. Another couple of days, and that pile of mica would be gone.
Trust Mica, then?
"She wants to get out of here alive," he explained to Jace and O. "She's bartering her life for ours. Put away the slicer, Jace."
A man's voice came over the comm. "This is our third and final request. Identify yourselves."
O sniffed his suspicion at Mica. "And how does she think this will work out?"
"It's simple, really," she said. "I tell them that you're my staff. We land. We go our separate ways. We pretend that this never happened."
Simon was sure she'd get her payback, but she'd take it out of him.
Mica's gaze flicked to him for a second—a sliver of heat—then she returned her attention to O.
"See?" O said, his confidence
Simon glanced at Mica, and found her already staring at him.
She lifted a brow, as if to say, You'll never pull this off.
He kept his gaze level. I have nothing left to lose.
Far off on the horizon, the jewel of Sol City appeared, a sapphire bubble within which the atmosphere was breathable without plugs and the temps were kept at a steady 72 degrees. Dangerous native flora had been excised and the most colorful cultivated. The mineral mica had been ground into glitter powder and incorporated into the facing of many of the buildings, so that the city sparkled. Spires needled the sky. The highest, of course, belonged to the family Sol.
"Take us in, O." Simon tapped the comm, a single ping , to raise the halo. Miranda, his contact on the other side, would transpose the license numbers and get them in under an "Unidentified" tag. By the time the Peace investigated, they'd be on their way.
Instead, a monotone female voice responded. "Please hold your position for Peace escort and transmit the ident-tags of your four human occupants."
"You said you could get us in," O grumbled.
Mica had leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes. A soft smile played about her mouth, as if to say, Told you.
"Then we do the trade now," Jace said. "We tell them we have the princess and we'll kill her if we don't get…" his eyeballs did a greedy back-and-forth twitch "…100 thou pax. Minimum."
Simon ignored him. A princess's ransom was worth upwards of 50 mil, but the point was moot.
Peace flyers winged out of the halo toward the dragon. The flyers resembled razor bugs, which meant more stings.
Simon shook his head. "We get the hell out of here." The dragon could outmaneuver the Peace flyers easily. "And try this again later, on our terms." They'd have to go the other way, the hushed way, into the mines and chance the scavengers.
Otis was already pulling up the viewer, which broke into multilayers of topography, atmosphere, and orbit. Best place would be King's Valley and its jungle. Again.
Simon hated razor bugs.
The auto voice repeated. "Please transmit the ident-tags of your four human occupants." The Peace positioned themselves on each side of the dragon.
"Or you could deal with me," Mica put in. She had that narrow-lidded look again.
O had his hand on the tremble, but flicked a glance Simon's way. "What does she mean?"
"I say we deal with her father." Jace had his slicer gun in hand. Did he plan to kill their hostage up front, and then ask for money?
"I can guarantee your lives, if you return me now," Mica said. "My word as a Sol."
Damn the smooth voice. Simon didn't know what that tone meant.
"She must think we're idiots," O said.
A smile cracked her face, which meant, Yes.
Simon had to get Pilar's dowry. There was no time to hide and wait—he'd already waited too long for an opportunity like this. Another couple of days, and that pile of mica would be gone.
Trust Mica, then?
"She wants to get out of here alive," he explained to Jace and O. "She's bartering her life for ours. Put away the slicer, Jace."
A man's voice came over the comm. "This is our third and final request. Identify yourselves."
O sniffed his suspicion at Mica. "And how does she think this will work out?"
"It's simple, really," she said. "I tell them that you're my staff. We land. We go our separate ways. We pretend that this never happened."
Simon was sure she'd get her payback, but she'd take it out of him.
Mica's gaze flicked to him for a second—a sliver of heat—then she returned her attention to O.
"See?" O said, his confidence
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