“Everyone’s focused on the race or will be. How were you thinking this would be better than crashing a party?” She led the way toward the pit lanes, where teams were hard at work putting the finishing adjustments on their ships before the lineup.
“Is the correct answer ‘we aren’t immediately thrown into jail?’” He barely kept from growling. “Honestly, when I said it was a good idea, I assumed you had more of a plan than showing up.”
“I see.”
He’d hurt her. Regret soured the back of his throat, but he could apologize later. Or not. After all, she’d finish up this sale, and then she’d be gone. The same as Jayme. The same as he’d done to his family. “I’m sorry. Have you tried putting it up on the message boards? It’s likely to draw attention from GRCA, but at least we should see them coming.”
She nodded and began typing into her omnidevice. He did the same—if they both had posts up, it doubled the chance someone might see it. And the Golden Ratio might assume they wouldn’t dare to bring the cats with them.
“How much do you figure Mira plans to charge me?” The hurt still laced her voice, but a healthy note of concern threaded through there too.
He respected that and answered honestly. “I’ve never known Captain Barnes to go for blood when she didn’t have to.” Pain hooked inside his ribs and swung around. Meja really was leaving. He felt emptied out. “She’ll be fair.”
She pulled up short. Looking at him. Waiting for something more.
Unsure what it might be, he said, “I mean, it’s relative to how much the person has, but you’ll still make a tidy profit. Don’t worry.”
“Yes,” she said, her affect flat. “That’s exactly the thing I was worried about.”
He followed as she turned and walked into the pit lines, quick to show off the VIP lanyards they’d received as they came in. He recognized a few of the corporate sponsored teams by their logo. He remembered one of them had a contract with the Burbidge military for a nimble, short-range fighter.
Another of the thunderous explosions shook the area, and he fought against his instinct to seek cover. The smell of accelerants was heavy in the air; the highly refined fuel that the raceships used seared his nostrils and brought back memories of his time in the service. Accelerants and fire. Smoke and noise and burned flesh. Jayme, unresponsive, and the other medics pulling him away from her body.
His footsteps slowed to a stop.
“Hey, you okay?” Meja walked back to stand in front of him, she and Collins watching him with the same amount of interest. “What’s going on?”
“I can’t do this.”
“Sure you can, it’ll be easy.” She gave him a brilliant smile. “We’ll walk from pit area to pit area, showing off the merchandise as it were. It’ll work out fine, trust me.”
He did, or at least he wanted to. But all he could think of was the goodbye he’d never been allowed to say. Friends he couldn’t even grieve with. “No. That’s not it. I mean I… It’s the explosions. The smell.”
Her gaze softened slightly, and she pried Collins from her shoulders. “Do you want to pet him? I know you find it relaxing.”
He curled the cat against his chest, and Collins meowed loudly. The sound brought a few other interested onlookers, but his awareness had narrowed to the feel of silky fur, the regular, rhythmic motion of his hand, and the warm weight in his arm. She was right, it did calm him. Even with the slight haze of allergy drugs fuzzing his senses, the rote action helped center him.
Meja snapped the leash around his wrist. “How about you carry him for a while. He weighs a ton.”
It was an excuse, and he recognized it as such, but it allowed them both to save a little face in the crowd. “I can do that. Who’s our next stop?”
“Nelumbo. They make power systems, but they’ve had a team of their own for decades. Several other teams also race on Nelumbo cores too.” She led him toward a double-wide set of garages that had been roped off. An enormous gold and black banner hung outside, with the Nelumbo name blazoned on it in thick letters.
“How does that work? Seems like free research for them.”
“It is,” she agreed. “Though most everyone is modifying the engines in some way after market. Within the rules provided, of course.”
He chuckled. “Of course.” Two raceships were in the paddock, one painted gold and black, the other the same but inverted. He had to admit, the ships were the very definition of sleek—stripped down to their bare minimum. Huge engines, and enough room for a seat between them so someone could operate the control surface of the racer. It also looked stupidly dangerous.
He’d never understand the appeal.
In the garage behind one of the racers he saw a ball of white fluff. A cat, he realized, like Collins, but different as night and day. Long white hair covered it, and Layth’s nose itched in sympathetic warning. He pointed the cat out to Meja. “Doubt they’re going to be much interested.”
“Damn. Good eye.” She turned to continue down the row. “Plenty more to see. There’s eleven other teams.”
After an hour, he couldn’t tell them apart, let alone remember who they visited and who they skipped. The whole process was becoming frustrating, and each explosion as the teams tested their engines left him more on edge. Even Collins wasn’t able to take the edge off him anymore. It was a relief when the call came for the racers to assemble, because it meant they could finally stop.
He slumped onto a small brick retaining wall. “I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to worry about yet. The day’s young.” Her optimism was undaunted, apparently. He shuddered and tried to force a smile.
“That’s true. But with the race starting soon, I suspect we won’t have much action now.”
She rolled her eyes. “You really are new to all this. The VIPs? They don’t care about the race. They want to be seen. The race is the best time for business, since everyone’s attention is elsewhere.” She startled and tugged out her omni. “Speaking of…”
“What?” He took a deep breath and forced himself to stand. Despite her hopes, it could all just as easily be a trap.
She held her omni toward him. “We have an offer. Let’s go meet them.”
15
The narrow side-alley stood between two garages, choked with the smell of propellent and scattered with the detritus of race day. Meja checked her omni again to be certain, but the location appeared to be right. Whoever had wanted to buy her cat had picked an out-of-the-way location. At least the alley was open at both ends, for all it settled her nerves.
“Well, this feels like a trap,” Layth muttered, saying exactly what she’d been trying not to think about.
“It’s not a dead end; we can still get out if we need to.” Unless they’re smart enough to have the area surrounded. She clung to the hope that it was so obviously a trap it couldn’t be. Some one-percenter was just being extra cautious, in a way that felt exactly like a trap.
And speaking of feeling trapped… She snuck a glance at Layth as he checked the doors leading into the buildings on either side. Convincing him to stay with her had been a long shot, no matter how good a team they’d been. But she’d wanted him to ask her to stay. She wanted the option to think about it, rather than his assumption she was leaving at the end of all this. She’d hoped, with their newfound honesty, that he could put aside his fears. Disappointment hovered on the edge of her nerves, leaving her painfully aware she might have been asking too much.