Page 12 of Tempting Cargo

“If you want. Your human Roth explained the deal. What’s your destination?” I was still learning to read alien facial expressions, but her clipped tone left little room for doubt.

“I don’t actually know.”

For the first time, she relaxed in her seat and gave me something that might have been a smile. I couldn’t quite tell—after all, a skull always smiled, and so did an open kri’ith mouth. But the muscles around her mouth relaxed, her full lower lip softening to reveal her teeth, all pointed like human canines. “You don’t know. Unusual reason to take a shipride.”

I shrugged. “Unusual circumstances, I guess.”

Even though she was curt, the captain didn’t seem as if she wanted to get rid of me. She examined me with an unforgiving stare, so I studied her too, taking in the rows of fleshy spines on her scalp, a richer shade of purple than her skin, and the ridges framing her invisible ears that faded from violet to soft amber and back again. The whole kri’ith vibe was intimidating; at least the women didn’t have lower jaw tusks.

I had the feeling she was expecting more until she snorted, all four nostrils vibrating. “It makes no difference to me, human. As long as you’re off my ship by the last stop, you can get off anywhere.”

The other kri’ith female, Moo-zar-tee, leaned in, her demeanour far more animated. “Are you having trouble deciding? I have trouble deciding things all the time. So many choices, so many options, do I want to eat the last of the awmi fruit bars, or do I want to pull the altitude sensor relay out again?” She pulled something akin to a screwdriver from the knotted mass of soft spines on her head and rolled it between her fingers. “It’s got a recurring glitch, and that pisses me off.”

Without meaning to, I laughed, even as the male growled.

“Stop eating all the skykking awmi bars. They’re for all of us.” He patted his pockets, scowling as he pulled out an empty wrapper.

“It’s not my fault they look at me like a little baby doorith following its mother. ‘I love you, Muzati. Eat me, Muzati. I’m so tasty.’”

Pay-arta snorted in disgust, swinging his large head to and fro. “Kheh. Whatever.”

My eyes flicked back to the captain, who ignored her crew with seemingly practiced indifference.

“You know what?” I said to Moo-zar-tee, “You’re right. It’s hard. Food, or fixing something. Or finding somewhere to live. All of the above.”

She smirked at her companions. “The human gets it.”

I hated that I kind of liked her.

“Thanks.” I wasn’t brave enough to try to pronounce their names yet, didn’t want to mangle them. “Everyone else either has a career they can leverage or has found a destination they can tolerate the sound of. I’m still searching.”

“Or they’ve run off with corsairs.”

It took a second or two to realise who Captain Shohari meant. “Do you know them? The pirates?”

“Shedoesn’t.” A rumble built in Paiata’s chest, both pairs of flat nostrils flaring. “And you don’t want to.”

My pulse picked up. “Are my friends in danger?”

“What if they are?” The captain was cool, dispassionate. “What are you going to do about it?” Her glittering eyes trailed across my torso, and I tensed, muscles bunching under my T-shirt and her scrutiny.

Damn, this place was getting to me. Why did I feel like fighting her to prove a point?

Each heave of my breath had me leaning imperceptibly closer to her until I dropped back in the chair and stared off to the side. “Not much I can do. I guess I’d rather know things than not, which might be why I haven’t picked a destination. I don’t know enough about the choices.”

I sized up the captain. If she was bigger than me, I couldn’t see it.

Paiata snorted again. “Doesn’t sound like you’re in a position to be choosy.”

Didn’t I know it. “If I don’t like the shipyard, I’ll go on to Vadias with Imani and Fenn.” It was the first time I’d voiced it aloud, the first time I’d thought in such concrete terms, and while it still didn’t feel like anything I wanted, it didn’t feel terrible.

“You got skills?” Muzati said.

“I was a machinery engineer on a mining colony.”

She gave me a winning skeletal smile, lips split all the way to her ear ridges, and I suppressed a shudder. “I’m the ship’s engineer. Ships are a whole different beast to machines.”

“Hmm, it depends on the machine,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “Various core-boring machines are capable of independent flight, and some hold a small crew.” I wished I’d brought my drink.