I glance over at Zebah as we ride the elevators toward the peacekeepers’ station. She’s quiet, toying with the end of her braid. I don’t trust quiet. I especially don’t trust quiet when it comes from Zebah. “Regretting your suggestion?”
“Nope. Just trying to figure out what to tell Bethiah so she doesn’t murder me for stealing her ship.” Zebah gives me a sunny smile. “Right now I’m going with brain-eating parasite that jacked up my thought processes.”
I rub my eye. Why is it that every female I meet with is progressively crazier? How is it that I’m getting stuck with all of them? I should have sent Adiron. Throw all three of them at whoever is in the Belly and see what happens. As it is, I feel as if I’ve traded my risk-loving brothers for a pair of risk-loving female mesakkah who quite possibly want to kill each other. This is not how I planned this operation.
“Just tell her the truth,” I say to Zebah. “You needed a ship. You took it. She can respect that. Kef, she’s probably done the same move to half the people on this station.”
Zebah looks openly skeptical. “And you think that won’t make her mad?”
“Oh, she’ll be mad. There’s no way around that.”
We get off on the “prime” floor of the station. Zoey always called these the basement because that’s the human term. This is the level that all the station’s climate control and air regulation systems are located—and heavily guarded. It’s also where the jails are kept, and where the peacekeepers have their main office. Naturally, it’s fairly deserted. The locals avoid this floor.
I nod at the guard at the end of the hall and pat the bag of credits at my side. “We’re here to see about releasing a friend from custody.”
He lifts his chin at us and holds out an open lockbox. “Hand over all weaponry. You can have it back when you leave this floor.”
I hate taking off my blasters, but I was expecting this. I pull off all my weapons and place them in the box. Zebah tosses her blaster in after mine and then gives the guard a sweet look. “That’s all I’ve got.”
“Then you don’t mind if I pat you down just to be sure,” the guard says, flexing his hands and smirking.
Zebah sighs and pulls a few knives out of her clothing—my knives, I can’t help but notice. She’s stolen them from the ship. Irritated, I shoot a scowl in her direction but she only shrugs.
Satisfied, the guard locks the box and hands me the key. “Enjoy your visit.”
We head down the hall toward the detainment center and I lean in toward Zebah as I do. “Quit stealing from my keffing ship.”
“Oh sure, might as well ask me to stop breathing,” she mutters.
At the processing counter, the bribery begins. I slide credit after credit toward the peacekeepers, explaining that I’m looking for my friend, who’s been incarcerated by mistake. Then, of course, someone has to talk to their superior, who also needs to be bribed and smooth-talked. I’ve done this before far too many times—usually to retrieve my brothers—and I’m a little surprised when the superior hears the name I’m inquiring about and immediately reaches for his synth-keys.
“Kef, yes, just get her out of here,” he says, waving me forward. “She’s making my troops crazy.”
“She…is? Do I even want to know?”
He just rolls his eyes. “The other prisoners have asked for her to be separated from them. She keeps them up at night by licking them.”
“I’m sorry…what?” I’m sure I didn’t hear that correctly.
“Licking them,” the male repeats, slower than before. “She’s bored. So she licks people to see how they react.” He shakes his head. “Keffing disgusting. All the prisoners are afraid to sleep when she’s around. They suspect she has something and she’s trying to spread it. Chemical warfare.”
“I see.”
“You might want to haul her ass to a med-bay the moment you get out of here,” the superior warns me, leading us down the long hall of holding cells, the occupants kept back by a shimmering force field. “See what she’s contaminated with.”
“I’ll certainly do so,” I say, trying to keep a straight face. Count on Bethiah to come up with new and creative ways to horrify.
We’re led down a long hall, and the cells at the far end are completely empty of prisoners. The superior pauses at the very end of the hall and glances over at me. “You can still change your mind, you know. If you want to leave her here for a while longer, we can keep her.”
I shake my head. “I made a promise to a friend, and I need to keep it.”
“Your problem,” he says with a shrug, and holds his hand out.
I toss a few more credits into his waiting hand and he gestures to the final cell. I head forward, noticing that the shimmer of the field on this one is far more opaque. From inside, I can hear the sound of bored conversation. The cell shimmers, and then the barrier lifts entirely, revealing the sole occupant.