Page 3 of How to Steal a Galaxy

Except he doesn’t know code.

And these guys, my contact and his lot? They do. And they know that the company ultimately hired for the job isn’t like Rian. They don’t care about anything but profits.

Guess we have that in common.

“So, you made contact with White,” my contact muses. “How did that go?”

I shrug. My eyes are on my data band. There’s only one repair shop that can see me without a wait, but they’re pricy as hell.

“Listen, all cards on the table,” he continues, his voice beseeching me to look up. I don’t. “We know that this data can be replicated by the government. At most, we’ve delayed their plans, not stopped them. And maybe we’re wrong! Maybe when our people inspect the coding, we’ll see nothing but what the government has said it’s making—climate cleaners that are going to help fix Earth. Maybe it’s all going to be fine.”

He’s wrong. I’ve already looked at the coding. It’s designed to go bad. But he’ll figure that out on his own, and I don’t want him to know how much I know.

He sighs, making a show of running a hand through his shoulder length hair. “But,” he continues, somehow even more serious, “maybe when we look at this code, maybe we find that there’s some malware or something on these bots.” Yup. “We’re working on a time limit. Once these nanobots release, if they are designed to spy or hack or exploit the system...we’re all fucked. All of Earth. A whole planet fucked. Microscopic bots programmed to alter the environment can’t exactly be put back in the bottle once they’re released, and if they have any type of malicious programming hidden inside their coding—”

I go ahead and book the expensive guy for the repairs.Glorycan fly with that hole in her side, but it’d be better to patch her up. “You should be paying for this,” I grumble.

“We will.”

My head whips up.

“If,” he adds, “you join the cause. Use bravado if you need to save face, but we hired you for a reason.”

“Because I get the job done.”

“Because you care.”

By all the fucking stars out in the black, he’ssmilingnow. My fingers curl into fists.

“You care about Earth; you care about the people of Earth,” he continues as if he’s not spouting bullshit. “And you knew what this mission was for, and that’s why you went as far as you did to get what we needed.”

“Look, I have a competitive streak that is perhaps not healthy, I will give you that,” I say, my voice pitched low enough to make him raise his eyebrows in surprise. “But do not try to entangle me in with your little schemes and subterfuge. I did the job. You paid me for the job. We’re done.”

“But if you have an in with White, and if this coding proves our theory that the bots are corrupt—”

“Then you can maybe hire me for another job,” I say. “But my rates are going up. If I have to listen to you preach at me aboutcauses, then I’m going to charge you an hourly.”

He huffs a little, but I cross my arms and stare him down.

“Fine,” he says finally, and he stomps out.

• • •

One Month Later

I’m wrapping up a different job—no need for details; it involved explosives but ended up quite boring overall—when I get a ping from the contact.

Suspicions confirmed. Code bad. Let’s talk.

They’re limiting what info they send, knowing comms are never truly secure. I send back a number with a lot of zeroes at the end as my price.

They don’t reply.

• • •

One Month After That

I’m kicking my heels up on the Zoozve base when I get another ping.

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