The ship was dingier than she’d expected—while she knew the reality was different, holovids tended to portray spaceships as roomy and gleaming. This one was neither. Gray walls with old stains were interrupted by bright green plant life under multispectrum bulbs. The hallway was barely wide enough to walk down single file. Storage, both planned and improvised, was everywhere.
Her eyes drifted down again, catching on the doctor’s backside as if he’d baited a hook for her. Meja huffed out a breath. It wasn’t fair that the universe could take an attractive man and ruin it with an arrogant attitude. Tempting as he might be, she’d just gotten out from under Voss’s thumb and the last thing she wanted was another control freak in her life. There was no question the handsome doctor was all about control.
They emerged into a small galley dominated by a long table down the center of the room. At the far end sat a high-backed chair that could only be described as a throne.
To her surprise, the captain didn’t deposit herself in the high seat immediately, instead going to one of the cabinets along the walls and taking down a dark-brown bottle. “We’ll have to go easy on this until Baker gets back. There’s only one more after this one.”
“Who’s Baker?” The question popped out before Meja could contain it, and every face in the room snapped to look at her.
“She is a member of my crew, and off the ship for a time,” the captain said without inflection. “That’s all you need to know.” She punctuated her statement with a long pull from the bottle, after which she handed it to Sanderson, a man with holo-star good looks and waves of curly black hair. He took a position standing behind the high seat as Captain Barnes finally sat down.
The rest of the crew, Layth included, took up seats on either side of the table. The younger woman who’d piloted the shuttle sat on the captain’s right, between Barnes and Layth. The boatswain and Sheri sat together opposite them. At some point, Barr had acquired an enormous red and black goanna, which patiently ate a yellow hibiscus bloom from his fingers.
Meja swallowed. “I’m carrying three stolen kittens, grown for an unspecified buyer by my now-former employer, Golden Ratio Companion Animals.”
Sanderson swore colorfully. “Well, at least you’re not thinking small fry.”
The pilot smirked, shuffling a deck of cards. She made a theatrical show of laying one down on the table. “The Herald of Skulls. Mixed messages, mischief, and confu—oh my word it really is a cat! What’s their name?”
The cat had poked its head out of the neck of Meja’s shirt. She dragged him out and set him at her end of the table. “I, uh…0511-C? And he’s a him.” A and B were harder to tell apart, but C had some obvious items that set him apart from his sisters.
“You didn’t name them?” The fortune teller looked disappointed, folding her hands in front of her as though to keep from reaching across the table.
The captain squeezed the woman’s shoulder affectionately. “Of course not, Hicks. You get attached to names, and these are just a paycheck for her. Aren’t they?”
The last, Meja realized, was addressed to her. “If they were just a paycheck, I would have let them get incinerated instead of rescuing them. Trust me when I say I made more money at Golden than I’ll make on my own.” She stroked her hand down C’s back, and he purred loudly, arching his butt up into her palm.
Sanderson chuckled. “He acts like you, Hicks. Give him a deck of cards, and the resemblance would be uncanny.”
She elbowed him alarmingly close to his genitals. “Unless you want to see my claws, Zion, you can stop.”
Meja bit her tongue to keep from smiling. Now was not the time to get on anyone’s bad side or to get too chummy with the crew. The cats were worth a small fortune, and Captain Barnes was more than savvy enough to figure that out. She’d also seen the captain inhale at the mention of the incinerator. There was a play here, she just had to be good enough to pull it off.
“The three cats are defective, at least compared to the client’s order. Not in any way that’s dangerous.” She held up a finger to cut off the question from Layth before he could ask it. “Unless you think color is dangerous. The buyer asked for pure blue. These came out as blue tortoiseshell. We had a bad mix for their genetic history.”
“And for that, they get put to death.” Layth sounded sad but unsurprised.
“Part of why cats remain valuable is because the number is strictly controlled. An animal that doesn’t meet expectations is only going to deflate the market.”
“Spoken like a true capitalist,” the captain said quietly. “Not that I care, except in so far as you’ve brought them onto my ship. You’ve painted a target on my people, dirtsider, and that’s not a thing I’m inclined to forgive.”
Sheri coughed into her fist, and Barnes glanced at her. “Not the time, Tyler.”
C strode to the center of the table and stretched out, tail tip flitting in and out of Hicks’s reach like a tease. The women tucked her cards away and practically vibrated with the urge to touch the feline. “Who could destroy such a beautiful creature?”
“Clearly not me.” Meja nodded at Hicks, giving permission before turning back to the captain. “I’m willing to pay extra for passage, to cover the kittens. And the trouble.”
“I’ll quote you a figure, based on how difficult this becomes. You’ll pay it without question, at the journey’s end.” It was a statement, not a request. “What are your plans for the kittens?”
“I can’t keep three of them for long.” Her shoulders slumped at the knowledge she’d have to split them apart. “It’s just too likely to draw attention. I know a potential buyer for one of them. And I’d like to keep one for myself.”
“Meaning you have one unassigned.” The captain stoked her chin. “I’ll bear that in mind. Layth, help her round up the other two animals.”
“Wait, why me?” He looked frustrated and put-upon by the suggestion and pointed at Barr and Sheri. “They’re the security team.”
“Yes, but I want the animals alive. Do you really think either of them could do that?” The captain gave a smile that did nothing to warm her eyes. “Besides. As I understand it, you let them out.”
“How are we supposed to call them if they don’t have names?” Layth put a shallow dish of the bio-printer’s best approximation of tuna in the opening of the ventilation system. It didn’t help that the smell of the paste the printer had churned out was making his stomach clench. “This is a terrible idea.”
“They weren’t supposed to get out in the first place, as you’ll recall. This is your fault.” Meja knelt in the hall, placing a similar bowl of paste just inside one of the access corridors. She also had the gall to do it without looking like her stomach was threatening to revolt. She giggled, a musical sound that immediately captured Layth’s attention. It was a laugh he wouldn’t mind hearing again. She covered her mouth a fraction too late to stop her contagious grin from spreading. “You literally let the cat out of the bag.”
“You slapped my omni in with them.” Layth closed his eyes and counted to three before managing to grind out the words, “It was technically a box.”