Kalico Aguila strode down the avenue, gravel crunching under her feet. She’d just left the shuttle, coming through the gate in the forefront of her weekly rotation up from Corporate Mine. Things were going well. Thanks, in part, to the brand-new mucking machines that had been included in Ashanti’s cargo manifest.
Also, and most auspicious, were the cacao seeds that had been included along with the agricultural supplies. Of less value were the two heavy-duty gleaners. Giant machines built for harvesting grain fields. Neither of the monsters could manage a complete turn without exceeding the limits of a local Port Authority grain field.
But then, this was Donovan.
Toby Montoya was eyeing both of the beasts, a gleam in his eyes. He was just waiting for the next time something broke at Corporate Mine, something that required his skill to fix. When it did, he’d be rubbing his hands in anticipation of the chance to dicker the harvesters away from Kalico. No telling what he’d make out them. Dump trucks? Brush hogs? Or something even more outlandish?
When it came to imagination on Donovan, The Corporation could have learned a thing or two.
“There you are!”
Kalico turned in time to see Dek Taglioni step out of the gunsmith’s shop. The scion of wealth and privilege wore a quetzal-hide cape, a claw-shrub-fiber shirt embroidered with colorful quetzals, and knee-high boots. Pouches hung from his belt, and the wooden grip of his fancy pistol was polished to a sheen.
“Derek Taglioni,” she replied as he walked up, a grin bending the scar on his cheek. “Thought you were out at Briggs’ place.”
“Back in town. Wanted to be sure that Wirth got off without issue. Had some other business. Trip’s a lot faster in an airplane. Made my life easier after Pamlico Jones finally got it unpacked.”
“Making yourself right at home out there, I take it?” She shot him a sidelong glance. The scar would slowly whiten, adding to his rakish charm. His hair was longer, and he now wore it combed back.
“Been out with Kylee and Tip. Made a couple of passes over the forest out west of Tyson. Been dangling biosensors down into the trees. Took us a couple of times, but we’ve got it. We can find the damn thing.”
“You’re talking about the beast that killed Dya and Talbot?” Memory of that day still plagued her nightmares.
“Kylee pegged it. The day she and Flute lured Batuhan into its lair, she caught a faint whiff. Called it a ‘rotten blood’ smell. It’s something we’ve never seen. Huge. Probably arboreal. The sensor indicates it’s about fifty meters across, has some sort of adaptation that allows it to cling to branches.”
“I was there. Looking right at where Dya’s body vanished.”
“And you know how good Donovanian life is at camouflage, right? This thing is different. And it’s smart. Bems, skewers, they freeze in place. This thing moves. Like it knows when we’re looking for it.”
Big as it was supposed to be? Muldare’s shots should have hit it somewhere.
“Buy you supper?” he asked as they came even with Inga’s.
“Sure.” She said it without thinking, only to be shocked when she realized how comfortable she felt with him.
He caught the look she was giving him as he held the door. “What?”
“Who the hell are you?”
Quick as he was, he caught her meaning and bit off a laugh. “Not really sure these days, but I’m working on it. Make you a deal?”
“Yeah?”
“If I ever find out, I’ll let you know.”
She took the lead, heels rapping as she led the way down the stairs. Passing tables, she called out greetings to people, answered their waves, surprised that Dek got his share of smiles and hellos.
She perched herself on her usual high stool, Dek climbing up beside her.
“Amber ale and a whiskey?” Inga asked, striding toward them.
“And a supper special,” Dek called, “Plus whatever Kalico wants.”
“Chili,” Kalico called.
“You buying?” Inga asked.
Dek tossed a ten-SDR onto the bar. “Keep the change.”
After Inga flipped her towel up over her shoulder and bellowed, “Special and a bowl of chili” at the top of her lungs, she lumbered back toward her taps.
“Keep the change? What are you doing for a living?”
“Hunting. A little prospecting. Spending time with Kylee, Tip, and Flute in the bush when they’ll let me. It’s the airplane that makes the difference. Locked away in its crate in cargo, I couldn’t trade it off back when I thought we were all going to die. Don’t know what I’m going to do with the exercise equipment and the entertainment center. I’d set up a theatre, but stupid me, I can’t access Corp-net for content.”
“What could you have been thinking?”
“That Donovan would be a cruder sort of Solar System. The kind of place where a cruder sort of man could be top dog. I’ll never be that naïve again. Which is why I’m so taken with the bush.”
“It’s a miracle that you’re still alive, you know.”
“Nothing is as sobering as being human on Donovan. But I’m learning. I suppose in the end the odds will get me.”
“Talbot said the same thing,” she said softly. “And they did.”
Dek took his beer as Inga set the drinks on the battered chabacho bar. He clinked it to the rim of Kalico’s glass. “To Mark Talbot. And living every day as if it’s the last.”
“What the hell were you thinking, getting Dan Wirth a berth on Ashanti?”
“He wanted to go back. I gave him the chance.”
“Why?”
“He was getting bored, Supervisor. The man is no one’s fool. He’d risen as high as he can rise on Donovan. He knows better than to fiddle with PA or Corporate Mine because the minutia of everyday operations would drive him to insanity. He was the king of his heap. But what’s the point of being the richest man in the universe if he’s stuck on Donovan where no one cares?”
She felt that old wariness begin to stir down inside. “And what’s your angle?”
“Completely mercenary. I like it here. As we just determined, given my penchant for the bush, I’m a short-timer before a bem, a skewer, a flock of mobbers, a quetzal, or some other weirdness gets me. But when I come to town, I want to spend time with Shig, you, Talina, and enjoy the place. If PA is to have any long-term prospects, Wirth had to go.”
“What made you think he’d screw it up?”
“Bored? Frustrated? Eventually he’d have gone sideways at the worst possible moment. Someone would have pissed him off on the wrong day. It would wound my soul if, in a fit of pique, he’d have killed Shig.” He fixed his yellow-green eyes on hers. “Or you.”
“Thought you didn’t like me.”
“People change. I did.” He gave her a noncommitted shrug. “So the best way to avoid Wirth’s kind of trouble was to get him off the planet. He’s a sick fart sucker, and he thinks he can play the big game in Corporate politics. Maybe he can. I give him a ten-percent chance of living out his first year.”
“How do you figure that?”
“Because I just shipped two entire safes full of his plunder off to Transluna under a Taglioni seal. Of course, I get my share. Miko and the family get theirs. Makes us the richest family in Solar System. And Dan still has tens of billions of SDRs to play with. He’s out of contract. Makes him a pain in the ass for the Board, but they’ll deal.”
“Or have him suffer some unforeseen accident.” She saw the brilliance of it. “Should have thought of that myself. There’s no way they can hush up that kind of wealth. The story will get out that a petty criminal, out of contract, returned from Donovan as the wealthiest man in Solar System. That’s going to shake the Board to its roots. If a scum like Wirth can accomplish what he has, what could a talented, educated, capable, and well-backed individual achieve?”
He was smiling, something smug about it.
“Ah!” Kalico smacked the bar. “Well played. Miko will be wondering exactly that about you. Derek Taglioni, with all the family advantages, is loose and ungoverned on Donovan. Given the way Miko’s going to twist and fret about what you’re doing out here, he won’t get a good night’s sleep until he can send a ship and find out.”
“Hey, Miko can sleep in peace. Me? I’m just a local hunter and prospector.”
For a moment, perplexed, she studied him. “For a newcomer, your acumen amazes me.”
Dek shrugged, sipped his beer. “Like I said. I like it here. I don’t want it ruined.”
“And how do I fit into your calculus?”
“You’re right where you need to be. You don’t know it yet, but you’ve found your place, and it’s found you.”
“I still want to be Chairman of the Board.”
The corners of his lips twitched in amusement. “Who wouldn’t? At least for a week or two. Unfortunately, once Donovan sank its claws into you”—he ran a finger along the scar on the back of her hand—“the woman who would have been Chairman was forever altered into something greater.”
She shivered, surprised by the daring of his touch. “Greater?”
“As Chairman you’d be a master when it came to the intrigue; you’d revel in the accolades. But your heart would remain unfulfilled, your triumphs oddly vacuous. Each victory somehow hollow and bland in aftertaste.”
She shifted uncomfortably, took a swig of Inga’s whiskey. Savored it. “Who the hell do you think you are? Shig?”
“I’ll never be that insightful, but he’d agree.”
“Okay, guru, where the hell is my perfect destiny?”
“Right here. Living. Totally and unabashedly. Not only does Donovan need you, but you’re complete as a human being. Vibrant. If you ever gave it up to go back to Transluna, it would rip a hole in your soul.”
“You a psychotherapist now?”
He smiled as the food was set before them. “I cheat. I come from your world. It’s an unfair advantage.”
“I cheat, too. You’re a Taglioni. Leopards don’t change their spots.” She took a spoonful of chili.
“The fact that you let me buy you supper is a start.”
“Let alone that you saved my life . . . how many times?”
“Only a toilet-sucking boor would bring that up in a craven attempt to curry favor. I have other qualities.” He pulled out another ten-SDR coin. “I’m turning into a pretty good hunter as well. Look! Earned by my skill and hard labor.”
“Miko’d scoff.”
“That pus bucket can fuck a skewer.”
“Excuse me?”
“Sorry. Too much time around Kylee.” A twinkle filled his eye. “I have to fly back out to Briggs’ tomorrow. Got a job to do. Well, assuming the cannibals at Tyson don’t eat us. Have supper with me when I get back? My treat?”
“Why should I make a habit of this?”
“Hey, I’m not just any soft meat. When I go hunting it’s with a quetzal and two teenagers.”
Kalico threw her head back and laughed in a way she hadn’t in years. Dek Taglioni? Well, hell, who knew?