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“Thank you.” Cal’s face beamed. Stubble had spread along his jaw, a shade darker than his hair. “Can I help you with this?”
“You want to cut seaweed?” Roy snorted.
“Why not?”
Because you might cut off your pretty fingers. “If you wanna, you can close the bags,” Roy said, gesturing toward the heat sealer. “Just put one between the plates, and pull on the handle. But clean your hands first.”
“Right.” After dipping his hands into the basin, Cal retrieved a handful of bags. The plastic crinkled as he positioned it in the jaws of the device.
With each package, Cal’s movements grew steadier, lending an air of elegance to Roy’s little workshop. Each bag was sealed evenly; not a single seam was crooked. Maybe Roy’s customers would finally stop complaining.
Failing to mask his bewilderment, Roy blurted out, “You’re quite good at this.”
“Oh,” Cal chuckled, arranging the bags into perfectly straight rows in the transport box. “I have a connection to machinery, I suppose. A doctorate in spacecraft engineering does that to you.”
Roy rolled his eyes. “So you can’t pour soup with a ladle, but you can build spaceships?”
For a second, he wondered whether he’d overstepped. The tension in his chest loosened once Cal laughed, bumping Roy’s biceps with his knuckles.
“Hey, that doesn’t count! I was sick, and my hands were trembling. I swear!”
After a day in the market, Roy craved nothing more than a cold ale at his favourite inn. Two things had spoiled the fun: the beer would have to be non-alcoholic, since he was still driving back home that night; and Cal’s conspiratorial whisper earlier that day, asking if Roy knew about a discreet place where he could meet somebody important.
Roy led Cal to his usual booth at the very far corner, half-hidden in the shadows. Maeve, the plump barmaid whom Roy might have spilt more than enough of his secrets to, smiled and brought them the two pints Roy had ordered at the bar.
“There you go, boys. Anything to eat?”
“We’re good,” Roy said, his eyes darting across the room. “Listen… are any of the rooms upstairs free?”
“Yeees?” She drawled, a satisfied grin spreading on her face.
Roy considered correcting her assumption, but decided to keep his mouth shut. Perhaps a heated encounter upstairs could provide the perfect cover-up for a possibly treasonous meeting. “Okay. We’ll wait for a… friend to join us. Can you bring me the card key?”
“A friend?” Maeve giggled. “Taking it fast, are we?”
“Yeah, no—ugh.” Roy hugged his pint and glared at the barmaid.
“I’m not judging, darling.” Maeve patted his shoulder. Fortunately, she didn’t ruffle his hair and call him a good boy. “Just stop by the bar whenever you’re ready.”
She moved on to the next customer, her hips swaying. Roy slumped onto his chair, praying he’d fuse with the worn cushions.
“Thanks,” Cal whispered, his fingernails softly grazing the back of Roy’s hand. A younger, more foolish Roy might have mistaken this for flirting. But his youthful days were long gone, and he wouldn’t misinterpret Cal’s gratitude for affection.
Images from all corners of the sector flashed on the screen above the bar. Roy squinted, sharpening the blurry captions. Though the news was hardly worth the effort. “Huh. I didn’t even know the Emperor Consort was supposed to visit our sector.”
“What?” Cal perked up. “When?”
“They say it’s cancelled.” Roy frowned. “Not sure why.”
“Dammit,” Cal mumbled, fingertips gathering beads of moisture from his pint. “If only I could talk to him. He’d help us.”
Roy side-eyed him. The Empire rarely intervened when a vassal planet got tangled in local unrest, waiting until the conflict threatened to boil over to the whole sector. “Maybe send him a letter?”
“I sent a message.” Cal nibbled on his lip and shook his head. “Didn’t even get a delivery confirmation.”
Half of the pint had poured down Roy’s throat when a stranger entered the bar, shrugging off the hood of his cloak. Roy knew immediately, from the way Cal tensed up, that this was the contact they were waiting for.
Comrade Neval—or Leo, as Cal called him—looked around. Tall, muscular Leo with hair black as the Void and teal eyes. The thin chains linking his left ear piercings swayed like wind chimes. When he spotted Cal, he smiled; the faint lines around his eyes deepened, and his nose scrunched.
