Page 18 of Throwing Fire

I chuckle. “Both.”

“Then I will gladly admire your ship for a free ride to Kuus.”

“Didn’t say it was free. If we’re waitin’ until nightfall, you can spring for dinner.”

“With pleasure.” Acker’s chuckle is a shade deeper than mine. He holds up his bulb with his free hand and Itinkmine against it. He doesn’t move his hand on my shoulder, and I wonder if there’s some significance to that. I don’t try to shift out from under it, despite the prickle of his claws.

We all drink, with Captain Match bowing his head over his drink for a moment before he does. That’s something I’ve seen Helasites do, and wonder if he’s Faithful. They ain’t usually Mods, though.

“Tell me more about your problem with theOjos,” I say, to avoid the topics that brought Kez and me to the Clouds. I want to see how much Acker says in front of Captain Match and Grace. I know Tiancha is inner circle, but I’m not sure about the other two.

“Over dinner,” Acker says lightly, but there’s no mistaking his meaning. “Match, if you would?”

Captain Match immediately bows to Kez. “Lightfoot, pleasure to meet ‘um.”

She smiles back. “And you.”

Match collects Grace from the couch. With old-fashioned courtesy, he offers her his arm. “Come, dear’um. I take you to dinner.”

Grace smiles up at him and if that smile contains any of the coquettish sexuality that fucked with my equilibrium before, Captain Match gives no sign. Maybe he’s used to it.

CHAPTER 8

Acker waits until Match and Grace shut the airlock behind them, then gestures to the table. We sit as couples.

Acker works some mechanism under the table and a ceramsteel panel in the middle of the table rises. Beneath the panel is a long shelf full of serving platters. I can feel the heat wash off the shelf, keeping the food hot. The first shelf rises and another appears under it, glowing icy blue. A cool-tray, just like the one I had in the cockpit of my old ship. The cool tray holds bowls of fruit and bulbs of water. The water has the slightly blue sheen of T-White, the most purified water sold on Kuseros. A Tyng bestseller. I know exactly how much four bulbs of T-White will have cost out here on the Clouds; Acker’s splashed out.

With a click, the shelves lock into place. The top panel is just about level with Kez’s chin, so it’s easy to hold conversation over the contraption.

Acker takes a bowl of native pink rice out of the warm tray and hands it to Tiancha. There’s a minute while we pass around the food. I take some of everything, since it all smells good, and I don’t want to insult our hosts. Kez does, too. I wait to see if Acker says grace oranything, and when he doesn’t, pick up my chopsticks and dig in. First dish I try is round lumps in a chunky red-brown sauce, which turns out to be rouge prawns. Delicious.

While I’m enjoying the food, Acker says, “I avoided your question earlier, my friend, because I do not wish to speak of this in front of others. But I have no secrets from my Wisdom.” He pats Tiancha’s paw where it’s resting on the table between them. “Not even Match knows how many theOjoshave killed.”

“How many?” I ask around a mouthful of prawns.

“Fourteen, in five weeks. Including a mother and her two children. They are well-funded and well-informed?—”

“By someone in the Deeps,” offers Tiancha.

Acker nods. “They know too much about where we will be and when not to have a source inside.”

Now I understand why he didn’t want Match and Grace to hear this. I meet his solid black eyes. “What’re you gonna do about that?” I ask. In part, I want to know how ruthless he is. And in part I want to know if he’d condone what I’m about to do to clean my own house.

“Kill them all,” he says without a hint of a smile.

“Not very subtle,” I respond, but I feel a trickle of relief. He’s not adverse to killing when it’s necessary. And I should have known he was sufficiently ruthless. He’d have to be, to get where he is.

Kez chuckles. “Snow’s all about subtle.”

I elbow her. “Oh, are those your ribs?”

Kez snorts into her drink, a little breathlessly.

“The time for subtlety is past,” Acker says, to a nod from Tiancha. “If we let them kill us without reprisal, then the Whites mean nothing. But I worry where countering them with violence will lead. We have too many women and children in the Deeps to go to war?—”

“We will follow you to the last newborn,” Tiancha offers quietly.

“Fond bokkie.” Acker strokes her head. “I do not fear my people’s commitment. I fear reprisal. We are barely tolerated now. If our war spills onto the streets, the Founders would have their excuse. They will destroy the Deeps.”