Planet Athion: The Complete Series by Angel Lawson
40
Damon
Amias docksthe ship and we gather the few things we need before disembarking.
“Stay on the flight deck,” I instruct both women, “and don’t let anyone inside.”
Mercy nods and I shift my attention to Cassidy. “If anything happens, press this button.” I show her on the console. “It will automatically synch up and take you to the meet-up spot.”
“Nothing’s going to happen,” she says, eyeing Amias.
He kisses her cheek. “Nope. Not a thing. We’ll be back soon.”
“Will you get me some of that taffy?” she asks. “If they have it?”
“Of course.”
I take a final look at Mercy and instinctively touch the gun on my belt before heading down the ramp.
“Do you think they’ll be okay?” Amias asks, falling into step beside me. I tug my hat down over my ears.
“Alone? Or do you mean together?”
“Both, I guess.”
“Mercy apologized—seems like she and Cassidy had some kind of talk that cleared the air.”
He hums. “Well that may explain the fact why she didn’t recoil when we crossed paths in the hallway just now.”
The air on the outpost is chilly. Amias walks over to the fueling station and begins bartering. We can’t use our credits supplied from the Master. It will tip him off that we’re way off course. I step into the small general store, which is also a makeshift bar, and order two drinks.
There are a dozen ships outside, some parked, others fueling up. I see a few groups, mostly Trads, at the back of the bar, playing games. A big screen shows a billabull match going on, a few gamblers watching the action.
Over in the shop there are a few people perusing the shelves. There are only three women in the whole place. All human—most probably here against their will.
Amias finds me halfway through my drink and sits on the barstool. “Thanks,” he says, taking a sip of the amber liquid. He exhales. “Laird this tastes foul, like rocket fuel.”
“How did the barter go?”
“They took the ration cards.” Ration cards we’d taken off two men in a brothel we shut down a week ago. I nod in approval. We didn’t need those in our possession anyway.
“So how are things with you and Mercy?” Amias asks.
“There are no 'things' between us. She’s just a job.”
“A job for your best friends.”
He’s giving me an imploring look. I roll my eyes. “Look, whatever they’ve got going on with this girl is none of my business. You know I’m not into 'sharing,' at least not long-term.”
“Look who’s being judgmental now.”
I take a sip of my drink, swallowing the burn. “Don’t start with me.”
Amias shifts in his seat, making it clear he had full intentions of starting up anyway. Fucker. “You can’t hold onto this anger forever.”
“I’m not angry,” I say, angrily.
“I know losing—”
“Don’t.”
“Someone, sucked. Bad. But you’re in a new world now. New rules. New people.” He runs his hands over the sides of the glass. “Mercy is very attractive and she seems kind. Smart.”
“Weak.”
“I don’t think so.”
“If you’re so into her, then maybe you should take her to bed.” I felt nauseous about the childish retort the second I said it.
The guy fueling the ship waves from outside. I toss a few credits on the bar and take the last sip of my drink.
“I’m just saying, Damon, this can’t go on forever.”
Anger washes over me. Anger mixed with regret. Loss. Pain and all the other feelings I keep bottled up. “Dude, don’t bring it up again. I’m serious.”
His eyes flit behind me and I turn, seeing a woman being ushered in by two Trads. Her belly is huge. Fluid drips down her legs. Her eyes meet mine. I had no doubt what she was trying to convey.
Help.
“We need a medic!” one of the Trads shouts. “Anyone a medic?”
Amias glances at me and I shake my head. “Come on.”
I lead the way, pushing past the woman and her handlers, heading for the ship. I access the security panel and open the door, revealing the ramp. Amias pushes past me, his disappointment clear.
“We can’t do anything,” I say, hearing the hollow ring of my voice. “Not without exposing ourselves.”
The woman cries out behind me, a contraction ripping through her body. I shut the door before it happens again.