Page 7 of Survivor
He tapped his throat, and I noticed the small flat silver disc stuck to it. “Translator chip,” he said. “Hear it once and can convert.”
I stood slowly, bringing him with me.
“Aw shit.” He picked up his board. “You break my board.” His shoulders slumped. “Take longer to finish job now. No pay for Vartin.”
“Vartin? Is that your name?”
He nodded, his expression sullen. In that moment, he looked like a sulky teen. Hell, maybe he was one.
I indicated his board. “Look, maybe I can get that fixed for you. But you need to help me out first.” I pulled the crumpled poster from my pocket. “What’s this?” I tapped the 50,000 credits bit. “Is this a prize?”
He grinned, showcasing pink gums with tiny piano key teeth sticking out of them. “The only prize. The big one. Braker Rock run the gauntlet once every year. Winner gets 50,000 and a brand-new ship.”
Wait. Credits and a fucking ship. “What is it? What’s the gauntlet?”
He looked me up and down, assessing. “Not for you, tiny specimen. You need power. Big guys win. Big guys fight hard. You small.”
My smile was a razor edge. “Oh, I can fight, little guy. Just tell me how I register.”
He licked his thin lips. “You don’t. Gauntlet is accessed through pit fight winners. Braker Rock picks winners. Braker Rock in charge.”
Who was this Braker Rock? “Is he a mobster? A thug?”
Vartin made a weird sound, a cross between a cough and a wheeze. It took a moment to realize he was laughing.
“What’s so funny?”
He reined in his mirth and peered up at me. “You not from around here.”
“No.”
“Braker’s one of the Crimson Hand.Wasone of them. A pirate. He now manage the pirate corp. The man untouchable. Not even enforcers touch warrant on him. He own half the port.”
A powerful man then. “And he does this gauntlet, why?”
Vartin shrugged. “Fun, I guess. Man is sadist. Like to see creatures bleed. Who knows?”
“And you? How did you get mixed up in this?”
He ducked his head, looking uncomfortable. “Running is easy money. Posters, messages, information. Easy money for Vartin.” He stood tall and glared at me. “Rest is none of your business.”
Fine, I’d give him that. I didn’t need his history, just his help. “Look, I need to get into the pit. I need to get onto this gauntlet.”
He studied me with narrow eyes. “Why you want this?”
“You don’t need to know that.”
His mouth turned down, and then his head bobbed from side to side. “Deal.” He shoved the board at me. “You fix and bring back tomorrow. Bring here, and I take you to pit in the Cogs. Only one more pit day left. One more picking day for Braker.”
I took the board, my pulse racing. “I’ll be here. Three hours after dawn.”
He ran a finger under his nose, sniffed, and backed up. “Deal.”
And then he was gone, melting into the crowd like he’d never been there.
This was it. This was our chance.
It was time to speak to the guys.
