"Back Room Deal"

[Joe Manning 0]

Using the smelling salt he'd grabbed from underneath the bar, Joe roused the Deltan from her stun-induced slumber. She awoke on the frayed sofa in The Maze's back room, sitting upright with a wet cloth around her waist and pink-furred handcuffs binding her wrists.

 

"Rise and shine, Redera," Joe said. "We're back where we first met, in The Maze. Though, this time, I have the advantage."

 

The Deltan tried to conceal her nervousness as she surveyed the room. The pair was alone in the modestly furnished manager's lounge -- Pher was watching a video feed of the exchange from the common room. When it became apparent that her pheromones were not filling the air of the cramped lounge, she looked down at her midsection.

 

"Pher thought that might help avoid another 'incident,' like the one that cost Mr. LaHaye his life." Joe held up a slender black cylinder, the size of his index finger -- the data storage device that had been retrieved from LaHaye's bank vault. "But not his legacy. Most fortuitous that I have an expert in the ... sensual sides of biochemistry."

 

The Deltan relaxed her pose, sitting up perfectly straight and still, staring up at Joe. She tried not to betray the concern that had been growing since the bank. Being captured by her former marks had worsened a bad situation even further. "What do you want?" the Deltan asked bitterly.

 

"I was about to ask you the same thing," Joe turned to the minibar in the corner opposite the couch and retrieved two small bottles. "Here I thought we were all getting along so well, then you went and kidnapped my first mate. Granted, you let him go without too much of a fight. But given that you were asking him about Qob's security and command overrides, I'm not inclined to forgive."

 

Joe watched the Deltan as he opened the bottle of whiskey. She simply stared up at him with an adamant expression. "If you were looking to steal my ship," Joe continued, pouring the whiskey over her cloth-covered groin and getting a fair deal of amusement out of her offended reaction. "You and your associates will be disappointed to find it inaccessible. We removed the control board for the thrusters, and we've got it stashed in a nice, safe place. Assuming that Minos, even with his leet computer skills, cannot program a new one in what little time he has, Qob won't be going anywhere until I decide otherwise."

 

Redera finally showed some concern in her eyes as she peered up at Joe then. If what he was saying were true, if Minos could not render the ship operable again, her mission -- her original mission, before Minos inexplicably sent her chasing after LaHaye -- was already a failure. Joe smiled and continued, "I see that the ship -is- what you were after. Good. We're finding common ground now. How long have you been after it, I wonder?"

 

"Days," Redera finally replied, though with a stubborn edge. "I was brought here specifically for that purpose. My associates identified your ship as a promising escape route within hours of the blockade being imposed."

 

Joe glanced off to the side. Marshall Savoy offered him the Minos job just two days ago. If Redera was telling the truth, the Rainmakers already had designs on Qob at the time. Unless Qob were really that noteworthy of a ship, Savoy had known something that she had neglected to tell him.

 

"So, what are you going to do to me?" Redera asked again, more insistently.

 

Joe looked back at the Deltan and emptied the bottle of whiskey onto her pheromone 'diaper.' He tossed the bottle aside and retrieved the bourbon bottle from his pocket. "For one thing, I'm gonna empty this here bottle just like I emptied the other one. Once it's empty, I'm either gonna kill you for makin' me waste a perfectly good bottle of bourbon on someone we shoulda killed sooner, or I'm gonna take those cuffs off ya. It depends on how friendly our conversation is from here."

 

Redera watched the slow trickle of fluid out of the bottle as Joe tipped it over. "I'm also gonna make ya a deal," he continued. "Why do you think I went looking for LaHaye's secrets? I was using what he knew to get to the Rainmakers. I figured if I had something your cult wanted ... I was gonna charge you for it before I let you take it away. This is Bull's Head after all, sweetheart. If you can't steal it, you buy it."

 

Redera shot a startled expression at him. "What are you saying? You'll sell us your ship?"

 

Joe shrugged. "In a manner of speaking. I'd hazard a guess that Minos has plenty of ships, and I ain't willing to give mine away just yet. But at this particular moment, he needs mine ... badly. I'd also hazard a guess that he has plenty of money. If he saw fit to share a nice big chunk of it with me, I could offer him safe passage off world. If he wants it badly enough, I'd throw this in for an extra fee." He held up LaHaye's data cache again. "Might be wise ... since my understanding is that this could incriminate a lot of his supporters on Tranquility."

 

Redera eyed him skeptically. "You don't profile as the mercenary type. Or the type who would help the Rainmakers."

 

"Maybe not," Joe replied. "Maybe I seem too much like the jaded Federation officer who thinks this 'independence' idea ain't so bad. But things ain't always so black and white, I'm afraid. You may have heard that my crew ran into some trouble with raiders recently. We were robbed and left for dead in space; I lost half my crew. We barely managed to limp back to Tranquility, but now we're broke and fed up with it all. On top of that, I've gotten myself into a bit of legal trouble with the Guardians. Given all the laws my crew has broken tonight to bring us all together here, I'd say we've all drifted neatly into outlaw territory. We may not support your little pro-Fed rebellion against Bull's Head, but we can recognize a good opportunity when we see one. You can make us rich enough to pay off the Guardians and still live like kings for years ... assuming Minos is feeling as generous as I imagine he will be."

 

"Or you could just turn Minos in to the Guardians," Redera narrowed her eyes at him.

 

Joe laughed and poured more of the bourbon. "Hon, as we speak, the Guardians are looking for me and Pher. I think they know we broke into their hospital ... and that we snatched you out from under them at the bank. If they find us, they aren't gonna be in much of a mood to bargain. And even if they do ... what would turning you in get me and my crew? Our crimes erased from their records and a pat on the back? No ... now that I'm holding all the cards, I'm gonna decide what the stakes are."

 

Redera glanced from LaHaye's data cache, to the emptying bottle of bourbon, to Joe's face. Though a double-cross could not be ruled out here, she appeared to have everything she needed within reach. "Alright, you've made your point. But it's not my place to decide. I can only contact Minos and find out what he thinks of your offer."

 

"Ah, you're in direct contact with the big man, then?" Joe asked with a smile. "Fortune certainly smiled on us the day you walked into this bar."

 

"Well, would you mind dearly getting these off me?" Redera lifted her cuffed hands and returned the smile bitingly. "The use of my hands would help."

 

"Of course," Joe said. He gulped down the last of the bourbon and leaned over Redera to pluck away the wet cloth. "Do keep in mind that you are being watched. If you do anything that Pher doesn't like, she won't see any further reason to keep you alive. Let's all be smart and do some business."

[Pher 0]

"Of course," Joe said. He gulped down the last of the bourbon and leaned over Redera to pluck away the wet cloth. "Do keep in mind that you are being watched. If you do anything that Pher doesn't like, she won't see any further reason to keep you alive. Let's all be smart and do some business."

 

This was not strictly speaking absolutely true. Pher was quite aware of the price Deltan honey dust brought on the black market. Pher's soggy blouse might just be the most precious garment on the planet. A healthy Deltan female, not descented, could be worth a lot of latinum in certain circles that Pher knew all too well.

 

Not that Pher thought Joe likely to turn slaver. Should even a Rainmaker be sold to spend the rest of her life dancing in cages, with carefully placed fans controlling the amount of dust reaching the audience? Pher shook her head. She wasn't with the Sisterhood at the moment. Her Sex Police badges were hidden away, and if found would be considered a joke. No. Just now, it wasn't her job to keep the customers happy.

 

No. Pher had no sympathy for the Rainmakers. None to speak of. Still, she thought she could guess how a female Deltan might turn revolutionary, might want to tear some buildings down.

 

When it came time to tear down the cages? What then? Would the Rainmakers and the Sisterhood be on the same side?

 

She glanced back up to the monitor, then down to read pheromone levels as read by Joe's ODRI.

 

The Sisterhood, at the moment, wasn't her thing. They were her past, not her present.

 

She was on vacation.