Page 5 of Alien Burn

Maskra poured the tea, sat down opposite him, and said, “My nephew has been offered a job.”

Dhomhes moved his cup before she could fill it to the rim.

“Congratulations.”

“Don't congratulate him yet.”

“Should I congratulate the employer? Your nephew is very strong.”

“And easily led.”

“Not by me. I've tried.”

Her mouth twitched, but she pushed a scrap of paper across the table. He covered it with his hand before a server passed their booth carrying a stack of dishes.

The tea house was busy. Market workers came in before their shifts, bringing damp air and the smell of fried food through the open doorway. From the front tables, someone complained loudly about the extra guards at the shuttle yards.

Dhomhes waited until the server had gone.

“What kind of job?”

“The same kind he already does. Loading freight. Except this one pays double.”

“Generous.”

“For remembering which ships belong to Coalition families. Who comes and goes. Whether the guards check every container.”

He unfolded the scrap. A comm code, written in a cramped hand.

“Did he take the money?”

“He refused, of course.”

Dhomhes looked up.

Maskra looked back at him.

“Of course,” he said.

“But he took the code first.” She reached for the pot. “He has a clever aunt.”

This time, Dhomhes let her fill his cup.

“He does. Did he recognize the male?”

“No. Clean clothes. Bad boots.”

“Bad how?”

“New. No wear on them, and he claimed he'd just come off a freight run.”

Dhomhes smiled. “Your nephew noticed that?”

“Eventually.”

“Where can I find him?”

“You can't. Not at work, with everyone watching. He has to keep loading those ships after you've gone back to your fine rooms.”