Dealers' Choice - Susan Hayes Page 0,6

it, because I wouldn’t recommend eating anything roaming free on this station.” Ward gave a dramatic shudder. “Too many legs.”

She had to agree. While the station’s condition had been improving lately, there were still vast stretches of maintenance conduits where pest species from across the known galaxy managed to thrive, and in some cases grow to nightmarish proportions. “So, if we’re not foraging for our meal, where are we going?”

To her surprise, Ward stepped up and offered her his arm, Pheran fashion, palm down, his forearm perfectly level with his elbow. “We are going to a little place called the Dobna Brin.”

She took his arm with a small smile of thanks, resting her fingers lightly on his sleeve, just above his wrist. “Isn’t that Torski for something like ‘bowl of comfort?’ Sounds promising.”

Vic chuckled as he set off toward the noise of the concourse. “Told you.”

“Have I mentioned today that smug is not a good look for you?” Ward grumbled, but she could sense he wasn’t actually displeased.

“So, how many languages do you speak?” Ward asked.

“A few. Several dialects of Pheran, Galactic Standard, obviously, and I’ve picked up a fair bit of Torski through the years. The one I can’t wrap my brain around is Jeskyran. I know enough to argue with a vendor when they try to cheat me, but that’s all.”

Ward turned his head and tapped his temple with his free hand. “We’re programmed to understand every language in the galaxy, and Jeskyran still gives me a headache. It’s all those click consonants.”

The noise level rose as they approached the main concourse. When the crowd thickened, her escorts shifted positions so that Vic was partially in front of her and to her right while Ward stayed on her left. Between them they created a protective shield that allowed her to move unmolested through the throng. Their thoughtfulness had an unintended side-effect – the emotional noise emanating from the crowd was muted enough it took almost no effort to block it out.

They took one of the bullet trains that crisscrossed the station. The cars were cramped and carried a lingering reek of body odor, stale food, and even staler air. They had to rush to find seating as a robotic voice intoned a list of instructions. Clear the doors. No food. No fighting. All passengers must remain seated while the train is in motion.

They were moving before the recording looped a third time.

It was pointless to try and talk. Holographic displays shimmered into existence over every seat, blaring advertisements for everything from pleasure sims to the latest advancements in combat weaponry. The brothers took turns swatting away the more graphic ads, sending tiny naked forms flying in various directions. For a fee, you could block the ads above your seat, but most beings didn’t bother. That only meant you’d be bombarded by the digital billboards of everyone who didn’t pay.

She was giggling by the time they reached their stop, and once they were outside, she burst into a fit of full-blown laughter. “Veth. You, with the—” she flicked her hand to the left. “And then she flew right through the window… And the green one! I swear she was winking at you, Ward.”

“Jealous?” Ward asked her.

“Of pixels? Never,” she retorted.

“Not even green ones?” Vic asked. He was grinning at his brother, who looked like he wanted this entire conversation diverted to the center of the nearest star.

“Definitely not green ones. They’re not even ripe yet and likely taste terrible. Now, if she’d been blue…” she trailed off as she registered the impact of her joke.

Neither male was laughing. They were, however, staring.

“Did she…?” Ward asked.

“I think so.” Vic reached out to take her hand, running his thumb across her knuckles. “Are you telling us you’re ripe for the picking, Xori Virness?”

Her breath caught in her throat. The weight of their stares so heavy she swore someone had turned up the gravity. That hadn’t been what she’d meant. Or was it? The denial she’d been about to utter melted away unspoken. “I honestly don’t know.”

Vic’s fingers tightened around hers for a brief second. “When you do, be sure to tell us, hmm?”

He released her hand, but the air between the three of them still hummed like they were standing too close to an unshielded energy conduit.

“I will.”

“Good,” Ward offered her his arm again, the act just as formal as before, but this time the barely-there connection of her fingers against his forearm filled her awareness. His sleeve had slid up

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