Chapter Twelve

The weasel comparison was not inaccurate.

Hinge twitched his pointed nose as he gave Ari a once-over, wiping sweat from his brow. He held out his damp hand to shake, but Ari just stared in disgust, bolting from the chair to the other side of the room as Orin shook in silent amusement.

Orin slapped Hinge’s outstretched palm with a hearty shake.

“Word is you might have a song for the right ear.”

Hinge slinked onto the chair Ari had vacated, narrow shoulders bowed inward. He offered a gap-toothed grin, raking fingers through his greasy hair.

“Depends what you wanna hear. Depends what you’re willing to pay.”

His rheumy eyes slid to Ari with a smirk.

“Looks to me like your new fancyman could afford a real sweet song, Stone. Looks to me like you dug him straight outta the Core. Now, there’s a song I’d like to hear; what’s it like to catch a ride on a genuine Core bitch?”

Orin leaned forward so sharply and suddenly that the table screeched several inches across the floor to dig into Hinge’s belly. The expression on Orin’s face could have been called a smile simply from the sheer number of teeth on display, were a person to have no other concept of the word smile.

“I’ll remind you to keep a civil tongue in your head, and I ain’t gonna say it twice.”

Hinge gave a twitchy nod, finding the surface of the table suddenly fascinating.

Orin sat back in his chair, arms crossed in such a way that put his bulging muscles on display, the sight having a vastly different impact on each of the two other occupants in the room.

Ari approached quietly. Resting his hands on the back of Orin’s chair, he was bolstered by the way Orin leaned back slightly to press his shoulders against Ari’s knuckles.

Orin inclined his head to indicate Ari. “You ever seen him before? Ever heard a song about him?”

Hinge considered Ari carefully, suppressing his leer after a sharp movement from Orin’s boot against the table.

“’Fraid not. I’d remember hearing such a pretty song.”

Orin nodded, and Ari tightened his fingers on the chair. “My partner and I are listening for a couple songs in particular. Anything on the wind about the Restricted Sector?”

Hinge flinched, cautious squint shooting to the door and back to Orin’s face.

“That’s the kinda singing gets your throat slit. Not sure you can afford that kinda song, Stone.”

“Let’s say I can,” Orin said quietly.

Hinge licked his lips.

“One hundred credits.”

Orin’s laugh shook the table.

“Bullshit. Forty.”

“Eighty, and that’s better than you deserve.”

Orin leaned forward, pushing the table into the soft flesh of Hinge’s belly.

“Sixty, or we walk. There’s a dozen better singers down the street, and you know it.”

Hinge gave an ugly leer, casting over Ari up and down. “Hope he’s worth it, Stone. I don’t much appreciate your boot on my neck.” He checked around the empty room before leaning over the table.

“Songs I been hearing lately all got the same tune—all about how the Restricted Sector been opening up. Outlier trash been pouring in like they think they can blend in with us Verge rats. Like we can’t see them for the freaks they are, marked up like that.”

Ari fumbled for his notes, opening his pad and pulling up Theo’s drawings. “Markings like these?”

Hinge nodded, lip lifted with disgust. “Yeah, some are like that; look like they been scribbled on with ink, ’cept it’s seeped in. Part of their skin like their disgusting tech.”

Ari zoomed in on the images. “Can you tell us anything about these specific markings?”

Hinge leaned closer, rubbing his chin. He pointed at the design of wandering parallel lines and small circles. “Lots of ’em got that shit, some kinda circuitry under their skin. Half machine, is what they are, barely human.”

Ari frantically added to his notes as Orin tapped on the table.

“Any songs telling why they’re coming? Didn’t used to see Outliers much at all outside the deep dark.”

Hinge scratched at a dotted rash on his neck irritably. “Ain’t heard nothing specific, but I can tell you this. The bastards are real scared, all of em. Running from something bad enough that crossing the Verge seems like a better option. You oughta know more than most, Stone, just how bad that’s gotta be.”

Orin stiffened in his chair before reaching back for Ari’s pad and then holding it out to Hinge in a firm grasp.

“Ident. You’ll receive seventy credits. Thanks for the song.”

Hinge pressed his fingers to the pad, waiting impatiently for the beep before tearing away and scuttling out of the room like something was nipping at his heels.

Ari took his pad back with shaking hands and checked that he had added everything to his notes before closing it and tucking it away.

Orin watched him quietly for a few moments, then brought his arm up around Ari’s hips to pull him into his lap. Ari melted into the embrace, winding his fingers in the opening of Orin’s shirt as he pressed his face to his neck.

Orin bundled him close to his chest. “I know you were hoping to hear the perfect song on our first try, but that just ain’t how it works. We gotta go listen some more before it’ll all come together.”

Ari nodded, mumbling against Orin’s throat. “Yes, of course. Of course, you’re right. I appreciate the way you took the lead in dealing with that weasel.”

Orin’s hand ghosted over the nape of Ari’s neck. “Anything for you, Red.”

Both of their heads snapped to the door at the sudden flurry of rapid knocking, Orin’s hand dropping from Ari’s neck to the pistol at his hip.

Ari stood to approach the door but was startled by Orin’s hand firm around his wrist. He guided him to stand against the wall beside the door. Orin’s pistol made a low buzzing hum as he clicked the charge with his thumb.

Orin held the barrel against his hip, pointed straight ahead as he palmed the door open. The buzzing hum switched off with a click when Gladys bustled inside, deliberately sliding her scandalously exposed bosom across Orin’s front as she entered.

Orin tucked his pistol back in his belt holster and leaned against the wall cheerfully. “Kicking us out, Glad?”

Gladys twirled a curl around her finger as she took the scenic route up from Orin’s boots. “Got a client in a few minutes. No time for freebies today, Stone. Much as I’d like to say otherwise.” Her shining brown eyes were rimmed with black, painted lips curled sweetly.

Orin’s gaze darted to Ari, shifting awkwardly in his place beside the door. “That’s fine. I’m not exactly in the market right now. On a job, and all.”

Now, those carefully lined eyes fixed on Ari, disarming buck teeth showing as her grin spread as wide as it could go.

“We all seen your new job, honey. Hope this one lasts a while. ’Bout time you got a nice payout, if you ask me.”

Orin laughed off the comment as he guided Ari out of the house with one broad hand open across his back. He dropped his hand as soon as they hit the street, leaving a cold spot that only seemed colder for the memory of the heat of his hand.

Ari refused to dwell on how much he missed it already.

The next “rathole” on the list didn’t even require them to move their ship from the dock. Orin led them down the street to a single-story building dug in between two taller businesses. One of the corrugated metal shutters, which hung over the two small windows, fell off with a bang as the door shut behind them.

“Stay here. Try to be casual,” Orin said, leaving Ari to stand by the door as he sauntered over to the bar.

Ari had thought Orin’s distinctive walk, led entirely by the hips, was indicative of his Verge upbringing, but he was coming to understand it was simply a characteristic of Orin himself. Ari found it distracting at the most inopportune times, struggling to peel himself away to survey the dark tavern.

He broke a sweat trying different poses in the pursuit of being casual while Orin appeared to get into an argument with the barkeep. Ari jumped, prompting a loud guffaw from a man seated nearby, when Orin’s fist landed on top of the wooden bar so forcefully Ari expected to see it crack in two.

He backed up a step involuntarily as Orin stormed in his direction, head down like a bull. He hooked Ari’s arm in a surprisingly gentle grip, pulling him alongside as he slammed out of the door. The fallen shutter clattered against the ground behind them.

Ari tried to read his expression, but Orin faced determinedly ahead, propelling them swiftly toward the docks. “Am I to assume that the service of a singer was unavailable in that establishment?”

Orin’s mouth tightened at the corners as he adjusted his grip on Ari’s arm. “Got some unfinished business I was hoping to leave behind, but it followed me here like a bad odor. Sorry I didn’t get your song, sugar. We’ll find another one after we hightail it out of here.”

Ari pulled at his arm until he was released and glanced up and down the street to find no one had taken their notice. The crowd flowed around them like a rock in a stream.

Orin frowned down at him for only a moment before turning and heading toward their ship at as rapid a pace as he could manage without breaking into a trot. Unfortunately, this forced Ari to actually break into a trot to keep up. The indignity of this kept him distracted from inquiring as to the rush to vacate the area.

Orin had already brought down the ramp and boarded the ship by the time Ari reached it, barking back a command to close the bay doors and begin takeoff procedures as Ari walked up the ramp.

“Gotta go, now. Faster is better than slower. Hold on to something, sweetheart. This might not be my smoothest waltz.”

Ari hung onto the emergency stabilizing bars surrounding the bay doors as Orin initiated takeoff, lifting the ship from the ground as gracefully as ever. Just as they were able to break atmo without a tremor, Orin broke into colorful cursing, followed moments later by all hell breaking loose.

The ship lurched to the side, internal alarms blaring as Ari ran into the cockpit, careening off the walls as the ship shuddered and rolled.

Orin had already flung himself across the dash to fight the controls with both hands.

Ari buckled himself into the copilot’s seat, trying to take in the clashing lights and alarms filling the cockpit. “What in the stars is happening?”

Orin’s face was tight with strain, creative curses continuing to flow from between clenched teeth. “Delilah’s been caught in a strangle net; can’t get her free. Greasy bastard sold us out.”

Ari watched helplessly as the wildly flashing emergency signals took over the dash, focusing on the insistently blinking red light above the ship’s com. “We are being hailed. Shouldn’t we answer?”

Orin’s hand shot out to stop Ari from hitting the com. “It’s Enforcers. Can’t answer that until we get our story straight.”

Ari’s stomach dropped down to his toes, sweat breaking out across his forehead. “Oh dear. That is not ideal.”

Orin snorted a laugh, amusement glinting across his eyes before they grew hard, determined. He hit the storage panel containing their pistols with the flat of one hand.

“This here ain’t your weapon, understand? You never seen this shit before. You’re an academic explorer who hired my seedy ass; easy to remember cause that’s the truth. You don’t know nothing ’bout nothing. They ask you about the Restricted Sector, you act real scared, you don’t want no part of it, you would never attempt to breach it in your wildest dreams.”

Ari sputtered, hands flailing in panic. “That’s ridiculous, this was all my idea. Of course I shall stand up and take responsibility for any consequence which may ensue.”

Orin’s hand clapped down on the dash with a deafening crack of flesh against metal as the ship docked unsteadily, rocking them in their chairs.

“None of that shit, you hear me? You’re an innocent Core professor and you been taken in by a shifty Verge rat, led astray. Worst-case scenario, they send you home. They’ll be here any second now. You follow my lead and keep your trap shut. And, just in case things go south, it’s been a real pleasure knowing you, Red.”

Ari opened his mouth to ask how likely it was for that to happen when the bay doors screeched open from an external manual override.

Three Enforcers marched in, every movement perfectly synchronized and faces blank above their armored uniforms.

Ari watched in disbelief at the slow grin that spread across his partner’s face, as Orin slowly unbuckled from his seat and moved to stand in the doorway between Ari and the line of Enforcers. His voice took on a mocking lilt Ari had never heard before.

“Well, how do you like that? Hey there, starlight, it’s sure been a while.”

The female Enforcer’s face flashed with fury, her pointed chin rising as she fixed her glare and her weapon on Orin. He continued in his low drawl, completely unfazed by his hostile reception.

“But I forget my manners. Professor, allow me to introduce my wife.”