Chapter 15

The automated medical table jabbed things into Dactyl, seared him with light, poked and prodded at him. In a last attempt, it sealed him into stasis and advised Craze and his friends to get a certified surgeon.

Rainly collapsed against Craze’s shoulder. “The Edge will become the new Foreworlds before we can get him the right kind o’ help. Why’d we have to come to the Edge? So remote, so far away! Why?”

Craze rocked her slowly in his arms. “It’s not as bad as you is imaginin’. Remember the doctor lady who brought Meelo here? I’ll contact her.”

Her pink gaze bore into Craze’s soul. “You know how?”

“Yeah, I do. I’ll call her now.” He scrolled through his contacts and entered Doc’s code, only the storm wouldn’t let him connect. “Too much dust roilin’ in the air right now. I’ll ping again as soon as it settles.” He needed to warn Talos, too.

“I hope the gale tears Kaesare to bits. How could she be so awful?” Rainly pulled away from Craze and draped herself over the doctoring bed.

“You don’t be thinkin’ so awful. It’s not you.” Craze maneuvered Rainly to a chair and set her on it.

Pauder followed, shuffling, clutching his war medals. “Dactyl shouldn’t have been waving that gun around unless he meant it. Not very bright for a former lawman.”

“Not very helpful, old man,” Craze answered with a scowl. He pointed at Pauder’s bared chest. “’N spare us that eyeful. Put somethin’ on!”

With a hot glare, Pauder waved Craze off. “Quattens have ta be more careful than the rest of us. Most of them didn’t survive the war. They’s hard ta miss once ya sight them.”

Craze clapped him hard on the back. “Again, not very helpful.”

“He’s spooked about that Quasser guy,” Rainly sniffed. She swept her hair behind her tiny, chrome ears.

Pauder’s brows climbed toward the ceiling. “The underboss?’

Maybe Craze could finally learn something useful. “You know about him? Underboss of what?”

“All the planetlords know of him, but it’s nothing more than rumor ‘n innuendo. I’ve wondered for years if any of it’s true. Found little proof either way. I’ve seen his mark, though.”

“The Q that looks like a skull?”

The old man’s gaunt head nodded.

Craze’s hair rose slightly. The idea of a worse obstacle than the Jixes to his plans made his mind spin. The only way to make sure Quasser didn’t become a major bother was to learn as much as he could and strategize accordingly. “On Pardeep?”

“Yup. Before I bought the moon, I’d heard one of his ships had been skulking about. I don’t know what for. Pardeep stood empty for over a decade before I claimed it. Anyway, since then I haven’t heard any whispers about him. If I ever do, I can say, we don’t want ta mess with him. From what I hear, he’s more trouble than a regatta of Fo’wo’s.”

His answers were as vague as Dactyl’s. “What did you hear?” Craze asked. What could possibly make everyone who’d ever heard of the guy tremble like Flatsies in a breeze?

The old man clutched onto his favorite bronze medal. “When he nabs ya, he starts by spooning yar eyes out ‘n eating them. He flays folks bit by bit, salting the wounds, making ya wish ta die. But he doesn’t let ya. Eventually, ya agree ta be a devoted soldier in his army. If ya don’t, he goes after everyone ya know.”

That sounded pretty nasty. “If he exists, he needs to be taken out,” Craze said, watching lines pulse across the screen monitoring Dactyl’s vital signs.

“Ya don’t know anything. Been telling ya since ya arrived how damned ignorant ya is. He’s no one ta mess with. Leave it be.”

Leaning back against the wall, Craze crossed his arms. “Glad to. Just as long as he stays out of my business.”