Declassified

“It’ll be fine. We’re just here to do business.”

“I thought you said people on this planet hate Federation citizens.”

“Sure they do. But they still like our money. Call it Qui

The bartender—a burly, three-eyed, three-armed chap— said, “What kind?”

“Pardon?”

“We sell nine varieties of water.”

“Got one with just carbon dioxide in it?” The bartender nodded; so did Qui

“Which is it?”

“Sorry?”

Impatience put an edge on the bartender’s deep voice. “Ice is one of the varieties we offer. Do you want carbon water or frozen water?”

Bridy rolled her eyes at the simple transaction gone wrong.

Qui

“You’re not from around here, are you?”

“What gave you that idea?” He drew a fistful of Gorn currency crystals from inside his cloak and dropped them on the bartop. “Two carbon waters with ice.”

“Coming up.” Wearing a put-upon expression, the barkeep stepped away and mixed the drinks. He returned, set them in front of Qui

Qui

The bartender regarded Qui

“An introduction,” Qui

Dropping his dishrag over the crystals, the bartender leaned forward and said in a confidential tone, “Sorry. Can’t help you.”

“I understand,” Qui

Wiping up the bar—and sweeping the additional currency under his rag—the bartender replied, “You’re welcome.” Then he made a subtle tilt of his head toward one of the cantina’s corner booths. Then he walked away, cash in hand.

Qui

The voice that emanated from the shadows was feminine— dark, smoky, and mysterious. “Are you two lost, perchance?”

“Don’t think so. The name’s Cervantes Qui

“Not in the habit of introducing myself to strangers.”

“Then how do you ever meet anyone?” Qui

Just before the situation turned ugly, the woman spoke with a voice sharp enough to carve diamonds. “Geeter, Kresh—sit down.” The bodyguards froze, maintained threatening eye contact for a moment with Qui

“No worries,” Qui

“Hi,” Bridy said with a small wave.

The woman in the corner leaned forward. Her dark-bronze face was framed by long curls of sable hair. She looked human, but Bridy knew that looks could often be deceiving. “A pleasure. My name is Chathani. Now, if you will forgive me for speaking directly: what do you want?”

“I hoped we might drink together,” Qui

Chathani dipped her chin and gave Qui

“And if, while we’re enjoying our drinks together, you should happen to let slip some bit of information that proves useful to me—”

“I fear you have been misinformed, Mister Qui

“You sure?”

“Very.”

“That’s a shame.” He scattered another fistful of Gorn currency across the table. “Because I was buying.”

In the light of the hanging lamp, the crystals burned with i

Chathani’s eyes widened with avarice. She whispered in the ear of the Antican on her right. He calmly swept the crystals into one massive palm and pocketed them, and then Chathani smiled. “How gauche of me,” she said. “Please, join us”—her smile became a grin—“ friends.”

6

“That sure looks like the Orion ship,” Qui

Bridy peeked over the edge of the roof’s low safety barrier. “If the Gorn were looking to secure this ship, why park it in plain sight?”

“For starters, these are the biggest hangars in the city, and probably the only ones large enough for a ship that size. For another, keeping it in plain sight makes it harder for someone to break into it without being seen.” Qui

Beside him, Bridy made a clicking noise with her tongue. “The Gorn have big hangars on the other side of the planet, don’t they?”

“Sure.” Qui

“Fair point.” She glanced at the hangar. “Man, the Gorn are all over that thing, aren’t they?” She held out her hand. “Can I have the binoculars?” Qui

Qui

She lowered the binoculars. “Swiping some maintenance uniforms might get us inside the hangar, but none of them have access to the ship’s interior. And I don’t think either of us can pass for a Gorn.”

“No, but we could pass as Orions. You did it before, on Amonash.”

“And nearly got my ass shot off—thanks for reminding me.” She handed the binoculars back to Qui

He shrugged. “It’s worth a shot. Judging by the uniform markings on the troops closest to the ship, sentry duty’s been left to the grunts. Talk fast enough and rough enough, and we might be able to get aboard.”

“Sounds like a long shot to me. For starters, we don’t know the names of any of the ship’s officers or crew, and the Gorn probably have a complete manifest.”

“Okay, then that’s our first objective: get a copy of the manifest.”

Bridy shook her head. “Forget it, that could take all week.” She pursed her lips. “We’re overthinking this. How about a simple distraction?”

“Such as . . . ?”

She pointed out details of the hangar. “Exposed coolant tubing—snipe that and the entire hangar fills with smoke and toxic vapor in fifteen seconds, tops.”

“Making it the last place I’d want to be.”