Page 45 of Her Alien Cyborgs
“Yes. Yes.” Flek pointed to a table in the back corner. “So you can watch the door. Yes?”
“You know me too well.”
Once the owner had vanished back into the kitchen, they sat down at the table. It had a bench on one side, but two stools on the other, which meant they could all sit comfortably.
“What was...” Kalan shook his hands in imitation of Flek. “That?
“His race doesn’t hug or touch each other much because of the thorns. They use their hands to express their emotions. That was his way of showing excitement and celebrating with us.”
“Ah.” Kalan nodded.
It did make sense. The clusters of thorns would make any kind of physical contact problematic.
Flek reappeared before they could ask any more questions. He busied himself behind the counter for several minutes before coming out with a tray with one large glass of amber liquid and two sets of smaller glasses.
“Ale for you,” he set the larger glass down in front of Hezza. “And flights for you two.” He placed the smaller collection of glasses down and then pointed to each glass in turn. “A honey lager. A golden ale. This is a berry stout, and this,” he pointed to the last glass, which held a dark, froth-covered liquid. “This is a chocolate porter. Very good.”
Then he looked at Hezza. “Your pizzas are in the oven now. We have time to talk. I made them early because you are regular. Like a clock. Not like some other customers.”
He didn’t sit down, but he did move closer, his eyes never leaving the door.
“You seem uneasy, friend,” Hezza said.
“Strange things happen. Too many new faces. Too many questions. It may be time for me to move on.” His thin lips almost vanished as he grimaced.
“You should move to The Drift. A new station is opening there. Defiance. Plenty of hungry customers.” She winked. “And not just for pizza.”
The Jeskyran nodded. “A friend suggested this to me before. But he said come to Astek Station.” He flicked out his fingers. “But that blew up. Might happen again.”
“It might. But you have to go somewhere,” Hezza pointed out.
“I will think about it. Now is not the time for my problems. Tell me about yours.”
Hezza explained their situation, somehow keeping most of the details to herself while still painting a clear picture of their issues.
She finished by saying, “So, I need information sent to Haven. It will need to be secure and heavily encrypted. I’ll pay. It also has to get there fast. Know any couriers who could handle the job?”
Flek nodded rapidly. “Do. Do. Anything else?”
Hezza slid the data stick across the table to Flek. “I need another copy sent to a former IAF colonel named Scott Archer. His ship’s theBat Out of Hell 2. You remember Phyl Harrington? She married him and another fellow, Garrett Michaels. Any of them can be the recipient, but no one else.”
She paused before adding, “And this is the big ask. I need a copy sent to the empress of the Vardarian Empire.”
Fyr’enth’s head snapped around to stare at her, but Kalan spoke first. “You what?”
She gave them both a firm look. “You heard me. She needs to know what had been done. Someone stole genetic material from her citizens. You might not see yourself as Vardarian, but what about the others? You don’t get to make that choice for them.”
She was right, but that didn’t make him feel better about it. What if this empress tried to order them back to the empire? That wouldn’t end well for anyone.
Flek watched their conversation intently. “You say these are Vardarian cyborgs? Like the corporate soldiers but not?”
“They are. Consider that information a bonus payment. Just don’t pass it on for a month. That will give everyone involved time to deal with the immediate problems.”
“A month. Yes. Reasonable.” His eyes glittered. “But then, I make scrip selling it. Some will pay large for such information.” Flek held up one hand. “But no one that would do harm to you or yours. That is not my way.”
“I know. That’s why I’m telling you.”
After that, the conversation shifted to talk of payments and finding a contractor for the cargo on theGambit. Until then, Flek was willing to pay to store it.
