“It’s galactic law to pay people for work they do.” That sounded more threatening than it actually was, but she wasn’t going to be bullied by a man in an office many light years away. “Pay me the freelance consultant fee.” She raised her chin. “I won’t work for free, Beenan.”
Beenan narrowed his eyes, but nodded. He had gotten what he wanted from her. Maybe he’d underestimated her a little, too. “There’s some currency credit left from your last job that I’ll reroute and authorize to go to your account.”
“Good.” Holly sat a little straighter. “Send the project files to my d-pad and I’ll take a look.”
“Fine,” he said. “And Holly? Answer your calls more promptly in the future. Better yet, get a HeadLink installed in your temporal lobe so you’re more easily reached.”
Hollyknewthis was just Beenan getting in the final dig. A HeadLink. Similar to the device Rasker had, but worse. His required activation, a chip pressed to the temple. A HeadLink was permanent. Always there. Always on. Always reachable, always available, and never truly alone with your own thoughts. Exactly the kind of thing the enhanced aesthetics program would push on her, if she returned to Sol-Arc Industries.No, she thought.Never.
“Goodbye, Beenan,” she said coolly.
She cut the transmission before he could respond.
Holly set the d-pad aside and let out a long breath. Her hands were trembling slightly. She pressed them flat against her thighs until they stilled.
Bean lifted his head and regarded her with those big brown eyes. He made a soft sound, almost questioning.
“I’m okay,” she told him. “Just dealing with some old ghosts.”
She shifted closer to him on the sofa and ran her fingers through the soft fur behind his ears. Bean grunted happily and pressed his warm body against her leg. A few weeks ago, he wouldn’t have done that. She was getting the hang of living with a stubborn old dog.
Her mind drifted to the hotel guests. They had warmed up considerably by the end of the evening, but earlier, a few of them had waved their hands in front of their noses and commented on the stale smell under the dome. One of them had wrinkled his nose and asked if the air was always this stagnant.
Holly had apologized and explained that some of the air circulators needed repair. She’d smiled and assured them thatit was being addressed. But the truth was, she had no idea when she’d be able to fix the circulators. Sam had given her an estimate weeks ago, and the cost had made her wince. Five thousandnits.
She wished she could conjure currency units out of thin air. Or from wherever Charles had stashed his wealth.
For a moment, she considered dipping into her own savings. She had more than enough to cover the cost of her living unit for three months on Nova, whichwasthe most expensive place to live in the solar system. Out here, it would go much further. She could pay for the air circulators and still have some left over to survive if everything fell apart.
But she had promised herself that her personal money was her safety net. Her escape route. If Moone’s Landing turned out to be unfixable, if the station failed despite her best efforts, she would need thosenitsto start over. Touching them now felt like tempting fate.
Holly sighed and scratched Bean’s ears. He made another happy grunt.
Then she paused.
Beenan said he’d be paying her with currency credit left over from her last job. Credit that he would authorize to go to her account once she addressed the Kelloran problem. It wasn’tnits, exactly. It wascredit.
That day in The Emporium, Orba had told Holly that she had credits on account there from Charles’ account, transferred to her.
We have access to the entire galactic commerce system.
Holly sat up straighter. Bean grumbled at the disruption but settled back against her.
She had forty-six hundred credits left at The Emporium. She had been using them for clothing and small comforts, things tomake her feel more at home. But credits could be spent on other things.
Things like air circulators.
Holly’s heart beat faster. It would mean no more flowing tunics, shoes, or other small luxuries from The Emporium’s endless aisles. But that was a small price to pay for air that wasn’t smelly. First thing in the morning, she’d be paying a visit to the Vepins with her quite unusual request.
Twenty-Two
The Emporium was quiet in the early morning hours.
Holly pushed open the door and stepped inside, greeted by the familiar scent of warm spices and sweet flowery perfume. The towering shelves stretched upward into shadow, their contents seeming to defy gravity. Somewhere deeper in the shop, something chimed softly.
Orba and Sula emerged from one of the aisles with ethereal grace and regarded Holly with those large, pale, slow-blinking eyes. Their opalescent skin caught the light, colors shifting beneath the surface. Vepins could change their shape, Holly had learned. These twochosethis appearance, and even their clothing was part of their bodies.
“Good morning, Holly Greene-Moone,” Orba said in that soft, warm voice. “You are here early. We are pleased to see you at The Emporium today.”
