Jeth pulled the stone from his pocket and handed it to Hammer, who accepted it with one meaty hand. He examined the so-called ruby, a pleased expression rising to his face.

“Excellent. Congratulations on another successful job.”

Normally, Jeth didn’t engage Hammer in conversation unless he absolutely had to, but curiosity got the better of him. “What is it? I know it’s not ruby.”

“No, it’s not.” Hammer examined Jeth, his eyes like small black stones on his broad face. “To be honest, I’m not exactly sure what it is. Nor do I care.”

Of course not, Jeth thought. All Hammer cared about was the monetary value. “Who wanted it then?”

An amused smile spread over Hammer’s lips. The question had been impertinent, but Hammer was in a good mood. Jeth wondered why, a sinking feeling in his gut that it might be satisfaction over Danforth’s punishment. For a second, Jeth pictured Danforth on an operating table, the long spike of the brain implant being pressed against the back of his skull.

“The ITA,” Hammer said.

Jeth blinked, trying to imagine what the Interstellar Transport Authority would want with a random piece of rock and failing to come up with a single explanation. The ITA manufactured and policed all the metatech in the universe—the technology that enabled light-speed space travel. “Did they say why they wanted it?”

Hammer set the stone on the table and picked up his glass. “I believe they wish to study it for some project or other. But it’s all highly classified, naturally.”

“Oh,” Jeth said, some of his interest draining away. Where the ITA was concerned, he’d long ago learned to distance himself. His parents had been part of the ITA—up until the time they’d been executed for treason.

He supposed Soleil Marcel’s interest in the stone had been the same as Hammer’s. The ITA was the single most powerful entity in the universe, but they weren’t stupid enough to seize such an important religious artifact from one of their constituent planets outright. Asking for it wouldn’t have worked either; the Grakkians prized it too much. In those situations the ITA usually relied on the criminal element to do their dirty work for them. Jeth supposed it made for good business all the way around.

“I’ll have the payment posted in your account,” Hammer said, the finality in his tone alerting Jeth that any further discussion about the ITA was over. “And I suppose I’ll throw in a little bonus for Danforth.” Hammer grinned, the gesture an inevitable leer given the subject matter. “I appreciate your bringing him back to me in one piece. More or less.”

Jeth swallowed, regret and disgust souring his belly. “What about Lizzie?” He hadn’t wanted to ask, but he couldn’t pretend she hadn’t been there. It was all in the report he’d sent ahead of him.

“Well, now,” Hammer said. “It was a little bit earlier that I’d planned, but your sister more than lived up to the challenges of her role. I see no reason why she can’t assume the tech ops position right away.”

Jeth nodded, trying to keep his emotions from showing on his face. He couldn’t deny that she’d proven herself. She had gotten the job done, far exceeding his expectations. Her foresight and initiative in guessing Danforth’s intentions and then sending word to Hammer had saved them all. And she had been the one to locate and ultimately take down Danforth. She did seem ready to be a part of the Shades.

But Jeth hated the idea of putting her in danger. She should be in school, be a normal kid with normal troubles. She shouldn’t have to face down her fear of guns or wrestle with the possibility that she might have killed someone. He wanted to give her that normal life just as much as he wanted the freedom that owning Avalon would bring him.

Yet in his heart, he knew that ship had flown. It was too late to salvage a normal life for his little sister. Hammer had his mind set on making her part of the crew, and so it would be.

“Is that all?” Jeth asked.

“Yes, that’s all,” said Hammer. “Until the next job.”

Jeth excused himself and headed out the way he’d come in. The two Brethren were still there, and they escorted him out of the estate. Jeth found his own way home. To Avalon.

As he arrived, he saw Lizzie coming down the corridor of the long-term dock where Avalon was moored. He could tell at a glance that she’d made a quick stop in the shopping district. She held a package in one hand and an ice cream cone in the other. Jeth wondered if the ice cream would become a regular ritual for her when they returned from a job. All the crew had such habits, different ways to decompress.

“Hey you,” she said, coming to a stop.

Jeth grinned, relieved that she sounded like herself once more, the trauma of Danforth fading away faster than he’d expected. If we’re lucky she’ll never see him again. He didn’t think witnessing the change in Danforth as he became a Guard would be good for her.

Or me.

“What did you get?” Jeth asked, motioning to the package.

She beamed at him. “A new pair of boots. I’ve been eyeing them for weeks, and Celeste said I could afford them now with my cut from the job.”

Jeth sighed, grimacing.

Lizzie frowned. “Was that not okay? Am I not going to get a cut?”

He screwed his face into a happier expression. He had to make his peace with Lizzie’s place on the crew. There was no undoing it. And he had a feeling Lizzie wouldn’t want to undo it even if she could. The conflict with Danforth had been bad, no doubt, but bad things had a way of losing substance in the light of good things. Like ice cream and new boots.




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