Read The Price of Pleasure Online

Authors: Joanna Wylde

The Price of Pleasure (10 page)

They walked toward the man, Seth trying to raise him on the com. As they got closer, the man tapped the side of his helmet with one hand, indicating his radio wasn’t working. He gestured to them to follow, and started walking back toward the habitation bubble.

The bubble itself looked every bit as old and unsteady as the decrepit ship on the landing field. Even after the airlock was fully cycled and the light turned green, Seth took care to check the instruments on his own suit before removing his helmet. He didn’t want to take any chances. A stench, like rotting cheese, hit him as he pulled off the helmet. The inhabitants of the bubble didn’t clean themselves very often, he realized.

Devora must have come to the same conclusion, because she gasped as the odor hit her.

“It’s a might close in here,” the miner said in profound understatement. He had pulled off his helmet before either of them, but had kept busy fiddling with the airlock controls while they removed their own helmets. Now he turned to face them, and Seth fought to control his reaction.

The man was filthy. Black mining dust covered his face, hands and neck. He had the look of someone who’d been dirty for so long that the dirt was under the skin. His hair was lank and greasy, hanging from his balding head in stringy locks. Devora gasped in shock beside him.

“I’m Calvin,” the man said, exposing rotten teeth. “This is my rock. I’ll expect you’ll be wantin’ to trade before you leave.”

That hadn’t been Seth’s plan, but Calvin didn’t strike him as the kind of man who would make time for casual visitors.

“We might have something to trade,” he said lightly. “We’ll have to see.”

Calvin grunted, then opened the airlock portal into the main bubble. The mechanism scraped from its coating of grime. Calvin strode into the room ahead of them, and Seth saw a woman and two children waiting for them silently. They were thin, pale and dirty, like Calvin.

“This is my wife, Sarai,” he said. “And this is my son, Able.” He didn’t bother to introduce the girl.

They were the most pathetic people he’d ever seen. Sarai stood silently, not meeting his eyes. She looked to be in her mid-twenties, but it was hard to tell under all the dirt.

He was gradually getting used to the smell, although every once in a while he had to fight off the urge to gag. Looking the woman up and down, he realized that she had made some attempt to straighten herself. Her oily hair had been freshly combed, as had that of the little girl. The little boy was the spitting image of his father, right down to his rotten teeth. All three seemed to be standing as far from Calvin as they possibly could.

“I would imagine your woman will want to help mine fix some food,” Calvin said after a minute, giving his wife a pointed glare. She glanced furtively at Devora, smiling shyly, and then gestured toward the other side of the bubble. There seemed to be just the one room, serving as living area, kitchen and bedroom.

Devora gave the woman a sweet smile in return, and the two made their way across the room with the little girl trailing after them. Seth noticed with some disgust that Devora had to pick her way carefully to avoid piles of debris littering the floor.

“Now that we’ve got rid of them, I think we should talk business,” Calvin said. He gestured Seth to a small, round table. “Have a seat. Able! Clear off a seat for the man.”

Able leapt into action, scuttling around his father to pull out a chair. Whipping a piece of torn fabric out of his pocket, the grubby child made an effort to wipe off some of the grime before Seth sat down.

“Damn woman don’t do jack shit around here,” Calvin grumbled as he pulled out his own chair. “I don’t know why the hell I don’t push her outta the airlock. Oh shut up, Able, I’m just funnin’,” he said as the boy snuffled in protest.

“Damn kid’s got no sense of humor,” Calvin said, spitting on the floor for emphasis.

“Now go get us some
bakrah
. I don’t believe in beatin’ around the bush, so let’s have this out.”

Seth cocked an eyebrow at Calvin questioningly. He had no idea what the man was talking about.

“I’m assuming you’re here to trade, and that’s a good thing,” Calvin said bluntly. “I don’t hold with traders, we’re Pilgrims here and we usually take care of our own. But something’s gone wrong up at Bethesda base and I ain’t seen no one for a coupla months. Radio’s been out for two weeks now. I’m wonderin’ if you got news for me.”

“What kind of news are you looking for?” Seth asked cautiously.

“News ‘bout them damn Sarlins what took over the sector, o’ course,” Calvin said, spitting again. Able, who was approaching with two grimy cups on a tray, ducked to miss the wad of dirty phlegm. The boy slid between them to set the tray on the table.

Calvin swatted at him, and he jumped back just as quickly. Apparently he’d had practice avoiding his father’s fists, Seth thought with distaste.

“Do you mean the Saurellians?” Seth asked, trying to lead Calvin on.

“That’s what I said,” Calvin replied, eyeing Seth suspiciously. “Them’s what been fightin’ the emperor. I’m thinkin’ they may’ve took out Bethesda.”

“I don’t know about Bethesda,” Seth said, choosing his words carefully. “I’m relatively new to this trade route. But I haven’t heard about the Saurellians coming out in this sector. Are you sure it’s them?”

“Course it’s them, who else would it be?” Calvin said. He grabbed one of the cups from the tray and handed it to Seth. “Have some
bakrah
. Make it myself.”

Seth took the cup and sniffed at the contents. The fumes alone were enough to singe the tiny hairs in his nose, but he took a sip to be polite. At least it drowned out some of Calvin’s smell, and the alcohol would probably be enough to kill whatever microorganisms were living in the cup. It was a comforting thought. The
bakrah
burned down his throat, and it took all he had in him not to cough. Calvin drank from his own cup deeply, then peered around the room myopically for Able.

“Bring the damn bottle, ya little shit!” he bellowed. “Now, back to business. I don’t usually trade with your kind, but to be honest we’re running a little short of supplies here. I usually gets all I need from Bethesda, but like I said, I ain’t seen ‘em for a while.

Now, what’s the news?”

“Well, the Saurellians are occupying the main access station, and have entered peace talks with the Empire,” Seth said, unsure of where to begin.

“Bastards!” Calvin exclaimed with feeling, taking another deep swig. “I can’t believe we have them bastards in charge of us. It ain’t right.”

“Have you ever met a Saurellian?” Seth asked, too intrigued by the man’s attitude to resist. Calvin looked at him in horror.

“Hell, no,” he said. “I don’t take my family where we might run into those things.

What kind of man would expose his children to that?”

“Those things?” Seth asked quietly. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“Damn, you don’t know much, do you,” Calvin said in disgust. “Them Sarelins ain’t no more human than a goat or a slave. They’re monsters, that’s what. That’s why we ain’t gonna tolerate them in our sector!”

“We?” Seth asked, but Calvin just glared at him suspiciously.

“I don’t see no reason to talk ‘bout this no more,” he said after a long pause. “You wanna trade or not? I ain’t got all day, I got things to do.”

As far as Seth could tell, it had been a very long time since Calvin had “done”

anything. “What kinds of things do you need?” he asked.

“Well, we’re low on filters for the oxygen generator, and I ain’t got much in the way of food packs,” Calvin said, becoming suddenly fascinated with his
bakrah
. “We also need some parts for the radio. And some water.”

Seth listened as Calvin’s list continued, growing more horrified by the minute. The family had virtually nothing left–it sounded like their air would only hold out for a matter of weeks. He would have to evacuate them from the asteroid. Otherwise they would probably die.

“Well, I have a few of those things, but not all,” he said when Calvin finally stopped grunting out his requests. “I saw your ship out there–any chance you could make a supply run?”

Calvin turned to stare at the wall, not speaking for several minutes.

“My ship don’t work.”

“I see,” Seth said. With a sigh, he realized there was no way out of this one; even if he could justify leaving Calvin to die, he couldn’t leave Sarai and the children. “Well, here’s the thing. I can give you a few supplies, but not enough to last you for any length of time. From what I’ve heard, you scared off most of the traders a while back. That pretty much only leaves us with one option. I can take you and your family to a base nearby, where you’ll be safe.”

“We ain’t leavin’ our rock!” Calvin said indignantly. He glared at Seth with hostile, beady eyes. “You just want us to leave so you can jack our claim–I know your type, I know what you’re like.”

Impatience, tempered with disgust, welled up in Seth. It would be so easy to leave the man to die on his stupid rock. It might even be a service to the Federation, he mused.

One less armed lunatic to deal with.

“Papa, dinner is ready,” a small, frail voice broke through his thoughts. It was the little girl. She was like a skinny blond ghost, with pale, hollow cheeks and enormous eyes. Dressed in a dingy little dress that was clearly too small for her, she looked like she might collapse at any moment.

“Mali, you’re a stupid little bitch–never interrupt me when I’m talkin’ business!”

Calvin snarled, rising as if to hit the girl. Seth reached out one hand and caught his arm, pinning it against the table.

“Don’t,” he said, his voice cold and hard. Calvin glared at him, then lowered himself back in his chair. The look he shot his daughter, however, promised retribution. Seth silently swore; even if he had enough supplies for the family he couldn’t leave them behind. Calvin would kill them.

“Calvin, I speak as a friend,” Seth said, choosing his words carefully. “You and your family will die here if you don’t come with me. You’ve shot at other traders. Your base station isn’t responding. For love of the Goddess, man, look at your children! They’re starving.”

“I don’t believe in no charity,” Calvin said harshly, glaring at him.

“You offered to trade,” Seth said soothingly. “It doesn’t have to be charity. Why don’t you make me an offer? I’m sure we can work out something fair.”

“Let’s eat while I think about this,” Calvin finally replied. “Sarai, bring the food over.”

His wife and daughter came forward at the command, carrying plates covered with a dark, gruel-like substance. Seth noticed how careful they were to stay out of Calvin’s reach. Devora hovered in the background, watching anxiously. Their eyes met briefly, and Seth could see the pain and compassion in her face. He knew she wouldn’t object to taking the family along with them.

“I know it ain’t great, but it’s food,” Calvin said. Then he started shoving spoonfuls of the dark, watery substance into his mouth. Trying not to grimace, Seth took a spoonful and ate it cautiously. It wasn’t as bad as it looked–it reminded him of the basic survival rations every Saurellian warrior carried during battle - nutritious, and thankfully tasteless, powder that could be eaten with or without water.

As Seth ate, he noticed that neither Sarai nor Devora and the children were eating with them.

“Where’s their food?” he asked, gesturing to the others with his spoon. He was sure Devora wouldn’t mind missing out on her serving of the disgusting paste, but he was concerned about the children. They watched every spoonful with hungry eyes.

“They eat too damn much already,” Calvin said. “The Book tells us that a woman and children exist to serve their master. They’ll eat what’s left over, and be grateful for it.”

Seth all but choked. The little girl, Mali, was so pale he could see the faint line of a blood vessel in her forehead. The child needed food.

“Calvin, we both know you need to come with us,” Seth said, losing his patience.

Calvin started to protest, but Seth held up his hand before the man could speak. “Let’s not argue about this. Now, what do you have to trade? I haven’t seen much sign of mining activity, and this doesn’t look like an ore-producing outfit. What do you do here?”

“Papa is a guard for the Movement,” Able said proudly into the silence. He puffed out his chest slightly, and looked to his father for approval. Calvin glared at the boy, whose chest instantly collapsed. A wave of fear came over his face. “I-I-I’m s-s-s-sorry, Papa,” he whispered, wincing under his father’s gaze. “I didn’t realize I wasn’t s’posed to tell. Honest!”

“That’s all right, boy,” Calvin smoothly. Able blinked at him in confusion, but Sarai’s face blanched in terror. Calvin turned back to Seth, his expression crafty.

“What he means is I sometimes work guarding ore shipments for the miners at Bethesda,” he said. “But like I said, they ain’t been by for a while. I gots some raw materials, though. Jansenite, about fifteen kilos of it. Should bring in a pretty penny with the right buyers, if you catch my meaning...”

Seth caught his breath. Jansenite was rare, one of the most powerfully explosive elements known. What the hell was Calvin doing with Jansenite? He was almost afraid to know the answer.

“That’s a pretty specialized commodity,” Seth said slowly. “Mind if I ask how you happened to come across it?”

“Now that ain’t none of your business,” Calvin said, taking another long pull of his
bakrah
. Seth estimated the man had drunk almost half the bottle in the short time they’d been talking. “Do you want it or not? If you take us outta here, we’ll split the profits, fifty-fifty.”

Seth nodded slowly, calculating the best way to transport the volatile material. As if reading his mind, Calvin said, “It’s in block form, sealed in boxes in a viscous polymer.

Shouldn’t give us no problems.”

Seth wondered if Calvin had any idea how ridiculously inadequate such packing was for Jansenite. Probably not–the man was a fool. The Jansenite had to belong to someone else. That person was probably the cause of the rumors. If he could get enough information out of Calvin, he’d be able to make his report to the High Council.

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