Stormblood, стр. 29

Before I could stop him, Grim had already purchased a massive fish tank, an antique diving suit, a vinyl record player, three Rubix skins, five buckets of nitromethane, seventy kilos of Torven snacks, and a year’s worth of rental space at the dockyard.

The virtual projection around us chimed with orders, the sum total reaching offensively expensive heights. ‘You’re in trouble if I end up paying for any of this,’ I warned.

‘You worry too much. It’s all going on a stolen account.’

‘You do this often, don’t you?’

He grinned, his head lolling backwards. ‘Would you believe me if I told you no?’

The colours abruptly exploded with counterintrusion icons, the lines between them pulsing red with fury. A series of torpedoes appeared, swiftly homing in on Grim’s presence. He seemed unfazed.

‘Ah. The security Rubix isn’t too happy we’re messing around in his mainframe,’ Grim muttered, his virtual presence darting away. The flashing torpedoes followed like sharks sniffing out blood. ‘It’s already started a countdown. Why can’t they just let guests tamper with them every once in a while?’

‘What happens if they catch you?’ I asked tentatively.

Muscles twitched down Grim’s legs. ‘Alarms go off, security drones get called, and we get sprayed with tracking pheromones, chased down and arrested. The usual.’

I felt my teeth gritting. I decided to trust Grim’s judgement and watched him play a cat-and-mouse game with the security Rubix, the AI getting more and more outraged, with its icons flashing so frantically I suspected Grim was moments from triggering an alarm. Knowing him, he was seeing how far he could taunt the AI before it turned on him. ‘Aha! Found our shop!’

He disconnected from the system, his body twitching, hands shaking, eyes bloodshot and sparking with shib warning icons as the projection around us disappeared like mist. ‘You okay?’ I asked. Never knew how much these Deep Dives messed with his grey matter.

‘I enjoyed that, actually.’ Grim clapped me hard on the back. ‘Now. Let’s pay a little visit to your drug dealer.’

Turned out the shop was at the very back of the Markets, built into the concavity of the asteroid. Little wonder we’d never found it. A figure blurred beyond the red-tinted window frames, a chime sounding as the door dilated open for us.

It was a robotics hire and parts shop, crammed with enough stock to last a century. Hippomechs, broken drones, and droid appendages were scattered like discarded toys on every available workspace, as if the owner was allergic to throwing anything out. The room smelled musky, like burnt tea leaves. Chunks had been carved out of the asteroid, connected to a nervous system of chutes that wormed through the rock and allowed deliveries across Compass.

The owner was a Bulkava. He was wearing a black and red suit with a helmet, elongated to fit the alien’s skull shape. I heard the quiet hum of a rebreather system built into the alien’s suit, thick cables extending from internal machinery and plugged into the base of his helmet. Two large eyes darted around in a furry, mammalian face, the slender creature a good half-metre shorter than me. I’d spotted the aliens around Compass, but never seen one up close before.

‘They’re not dangerous,’ Grim murmured to me as the door snapped shut, cutting off the noisy chaos. ‘They just can’t tolerate our atmosphere. Outside their dedicated biospheres they have to wear suits and helmets rigged with a life-support system at all times.’

‘Customers!’ The alien had a high-pitched, strained voice. He had two pairs of arms, each sporting four fingers, all four lifted in greeting as we approached. ‘Oh, it’s you again!’ It took me a second to realise he was speaking to me. I cocked my head, took another step. ‘Oh! No, no, no. My mistake! So sorry!’ He gave something resembling a bow. ‘I am Aras. How can I help you? Do you have an order? Anything you like?’

I slid the e-stamp across the scuffed counter. ‘Got a pick-up to make,’ I said, hoping Grim would be smart enough to play along.

Aras swept some clutter on the counter aside and turned the stamp around towards him. ‘For who?’

‘Samantha Wong. She needs her delivery today,’ I said.

‘Of course, of course,’ the alien said, lower-left arm reaching behind the counter while his other scratched his chest. ‘Hmm. I do not believe she’s placed any new orders …’

‘Orders for these?’ I asked, swallowing a lump of anger and holding the phial up in front of Aras’ face. ‘Look familiar?’

Aras recoiled as if I’d shoved a particle gun in his face. ‘I … I … yes. No!’ He began to scurry away. ‘I think its closing time. Do excuse me …’

I blocked his escape route. ‘Where are you getting this stuff from?’ The picture of Alcatraz flickered in my mind and I had to physically squash back the anger, stormtech squirming like tentacles inside me. Aras didn’t answer, but maybe he was finding it hard to speak after I’d grabbed him by the chest straps of his harness and hoisted him against the wall. The alien flailed at me with all six limbs, but said nothing. ‘Don’t want to talk to me? Fine.’ I made to drop him. ‘You can talk to Harmony instead.’

I wasn’t about to hand him over, of course. But Aras didn’t know that. The alien made a throat-clearing noise before squeaking out: ‘There’s an offworld supplier! They supply me and I have to sell to humans here and send the money to my family!’

I’d scanned the room. No chemical evidence he was manufacturing the product himself. Certainly not here. ‘Who’s your supplier? Where are they based?’

‘On Vilanov.’ It was a shipping moonbase, one of the many that clustered within serviceable shipping range of Compass. ‘We have an exclusive contract!’

‘And they’re Bulkava, too?’ I was guessing, and Aras hesitated before nodding.

‘How long have you been dealing?’ Grim butted in.

‘Two months.’ Aras shrugged helplessly with his upper arms and held up one finger on