Breaking and Entering
The trading post had at last quietened down by the time they crossed the market square. The taverns were finally closed and the alleyways deserted. Only a few stragglers remained at large, Ratlings staggering home to wherever they lay their hairy heads, while dock workers slumped in dark corners, coats pulled over them like blankets. The stalls were now empty, the interior of the station unnaturally quiet without the bustle of the spacefarers and the barks and growls of the caged animals. Somewhere in the distance, a lone beast howled. Zelia tried not to imagine what it was, her mind conjuring up images of clawed fiends lurking around every corner, waiting to pounce upon anyone foolish enough to venture out during the outpost’s night cycle.
Before leaving the ship, Zelia had found a couple of dark green cloaks in the empty crew quarters. Passing one to Mekki, she had wrapped the thick cape around her and headed out into the hangar bay. She hadn’t bothered giving one to Grunt, thinking that a servitor wearing a cloak would only attract attention.
They slipped unnoticed through the market, even with Grunt plodding after them.
The broth-seller was gone by the time they reached Karter’s emporium. The store was in darkness, Meshwing still standing like a tiny bronze statue in the window. Mekki tapped on the glass, and the servo-sprite snapped back to life. It buzzed excitedly over to the door and, with a sharp click, turned the lock.
The door creaked as Zelia pushed it open, and she half expected the drone to come zipping out at them. But Meshwing reported that both Karter and the drone had left the store some time ago. They could search for Fleapit in peace.
She held the door open for Grunt, who clunked his head on the frame. Mekki was already making for the stockroom as she locked them in.
A thud from beyond the curtain stopped him in his tracks. The Martian froze, looking back at her. Maybe Meshwing had been wrong? Perhaps the drone was still lying in wait for would-be thieves?
Zelia reached beneath her cloak, her fingers finding one of the flash grenades nestled in her bandolier.
Indicating for the others to stay quiet, she crept forwards, wincing as Grunt followed anyway, every step as light and airy as a ten-tonne crotalid.
Zelia tiptoed around the counter and reached for the drape. She waited for Grunt to trudge to a halt behind her and yanked the fabric back, its hoops squealing on the brass pole.
The stockroom was empty. No Karter, and no drone.
Stepping around her, Mekki activated the lume-bead he wore on the band around his head. He moved inside the storage room, the light sweeping across the shelves as he turned his head.
Zelia followed him in, leaving Grunt standing guard at the threshold. She peered at the dusty boxes on the shelves, her curiosity getting the better of her. Yellowing labels described the content of each casket in what she assumed was Karter’s spidery handwriting. There were relics and old coins, quills and bottles of ink, none of which interested her, but the maps were something else. She ran her fingers along the fragile rolls of paper, wondering if any of them contained the location of the Emperor’s Seat, knowledge that Talen now possessed but had failed to share before storming off.
Her eyes rested on the large barrel at the back of the room. She moved over to examine it, but froze when the front door rattled.
Zelia dashed back to the curtain, and barked for Grunt to get out of the way so she could pull it shut. They listened as the lock turned, and the shop door creaked open. The glow from Mekki’s lume-bead cast stark shadows against the curtain and she waved at him to extinguish the light before it gave them away. He obliged, plunging the stockroom into near darkness.
Zelia pulled a flash grenade from her belt as Mekki drew his shock-prod. Even Grunt shifted behind them, ready to protect his young charges. Zelia put a hand against the servitor’s chest to stop him from blundering forwards, wincing at the feel of his skin beneath her palm. Grunt’s flesh was cold and clammy. It was like touching a dead fish. She pulled her hand away, but Grunt remained where he was, waiting and watching from beneath his heavy brow.
Footsteps rang out on the other side of the curtain. Was it Karter? Zelia listened for the telltale hum of the drone, but could only hear boots pacing the shop. They stopped, and there was a scrape as an item was removed from one of Karter’s displays, only to be replaced a few seconds later.
And then, there was silence.
Zelia raised a shaking finger to her lips. Mekki nodded, his knuckles white around the shock-prod. None of them moved, not even Meshwing, who cringed on Mekki’s shoulder, wings folded behind her metal back.
Zelia held her breath. Any sound could betray them.
Something inside the metal barrel clanged.
Zelia couldn’t help but let out a yelp. The footsteps approached, attracted by the noise. Zelia stepped back, hiding behind Grunt’s bulk. Her cloak slipped from her shoulders, the flash grenade in her hand.
The footsteps stopped on the other side of the curtain. Zelia looked down to see polished boots in the gap beneath the fabric. There was an agonising wait and then with a dramatic swish, the drape was pulled back.
Grunt lurched forwards, but stopped short when he found himself staring into the barrel of Captain Amity’s beamer.
Zelia let out a breath of relief.
‘I thought I told you to stay on the ship,’ Amity snapped, returning her pistol to her belt.
‘And we ignored you,’ Zelia said, holstering her grenade. Only Mekki still held out his weapon, just in case, the shock-prod shaking ever so slightly in his grip.
Amity reached out and lowered the Martian’s hand.
‘Breaking and entering, eh?’ A smile spread across the captain’s face. ‘Just what I would have done.’
‘What you did,’ Zelia corrected her. ‘What are you doing here?’
She looked around the stockroom. ‘Same as you – searching for our furry friend. Any luck?’
Zelia pointed out the barrel. ‘There’s something in there.’
Sure enough, another thud came from within the container.
‘It’s certainly large enough,’ Amity said, stepping past Grunt to try the lid. It wouldn’t budge.
‘How are we going to open it?’ asked Zelia.
‘The same way I opened the front door,’ Amity replied, delving into one of the pockets in her coat. She pulled out a small box the size of a large beetle and slapped it onto the side of the barrel. It magna-locked into place and started to whine the moment she pulled back her hand.
Mekki looked on in fascination. Amity flashed him a grin.
‘Sonic pick,’ she explained. ‘Never found a lock it couldn’t open. Aha!’
There was a mechanical click from within the barrel and the container shook violently. Amity took a step back. They all did. There was definitely something inside.
‘Fleapit?’ Zelia asked, as the top of the barrel started to unscrew by itself.
‘You might want to get ready with that shock-prod,’ Amity told Mekki, drawing her beamer.
Zelia reached out a hand to calm them. ‘It’ll be all right. He’s probably just scared.’
Mekki nodded. ‘Flegan-Pala hates being locked up.’
Amity aimed her beamer at the slowly revolving lid. ‘How do we know that he’s in there?’
‘Who else would it be?’ Zelia asked as the lid stopped turning and shot up into the air.
Something burst from the barrel with a roar. Something that definitely wasn’t Fleapit!