Mace's Arc

Chapter 2 of 2

The docks could lock any minute. Mace had a botanist, an operator, and a bounty on his hull. He needed Moss to move first, to scout the exits and hold the route. But Moss stayed in his chair, boots up on the table, headphones thumping. "I don't work loose ends," Moss said. He tipped his head at Mira, who hunched over her glass case a few feet away. "She owes the men who run this floor. They lock her, they lock all of us. Clear her debt. Then I move." Mace turned to Mira. "How much?" "More than you have," she said, flat. She didn't look up from the plants. Mace had two crates of coils and a thin box of coin. Not enough. But he knew someone who dealt in things worth more than coin. He crossed the smoke to a corner table where a woman in a crisp corporate suit sat straight-backed. Sable Lorne. She sold ID wipes and rewrote registry flags for anyone who paid. In one hand she held a photo of herself, but older, scarred, hollow-eyed. She set it face-down when Mace stopped. "The dead man," Sable said. Her voice was smooth. "Your flag is expensive. I don't do charity." "Not the flag. Not yet." Mace leaned in. "The botanist's debt to the enforcers. You touch their ledgers?" "I touch everything," Sable said. "But I trade for value, not sob stories." Mace glanced back at Mira. He remembered what she'd said in Chapter one: she wouldn't trade one plant for anything. He walked back to her. "Sable can wipe your debt from their books," Mace said. "She wants payment. A cutting." Mira's hands tightened on the case. "No." "Then Moss won't move. Then we all get locked in here." Mace kept his voice low. "One cutting. Not the one you're protecting. You choose." Mira stared at the leaves. Her jaw worked. She opened the case, snapped off a small green stem, and closed it again fast. She pressed the cutting into his palm. "That one," she said. "Not the other. Ever." Mace carried it to Sable. The clone studied the stem, then held it to the light. Something in her hard face shifted, hunger, maybe memory. She slid it into a sealed vial. "Living things are rare here," Sable said. "Debt's gone in ten minutes. Their ledger will show it paid." She tapped a keypad. "Done." Mace returned to the table. "Debt's clear. Check it." Moss pulled a screen from his armor, scanned it, and read. His boots came off the table. He stood. "Confirmed," Moss said. "Route three. Follow me." But across the bar, one of the enforcers stared at his own screen. He'd seen the debt vanish. He looked up, straight at Mace, and reached for the man beside him. The debt was gone. Now the enforcers knew someone inside had rewritten their books, and they wanted the name.