Kyle Steppan took a deep breath before leaving the familiar confines of the Argo. Nothing, Kyle thought wistfully, can ruin your day like having yet another ‘partner’ jump ship. And on Tellor, to boot. Jerry had to be seriously unhappy to bail out here. Kyle figured he could probably track Jerry down (Sarvek Dome wasn’t that big) but why bother? So he can jump ship someplace better? Ha! Let him sweat it out here! Still, that left Kyle alone and salvage was risky enough — going in solo would eventually get him killed. So, Kyle thought, out the hatch and hope I find someone suitable.
Kyle waved offhandedly to Craxus, one of the guards on the loading dock. Kyle didn’t like Craxus very much, but it didn’t pay to get on the bad side of the people guarding your ship while you were gone. Craxus nodded gruffly and Kyle walked across the deck sole, trying not to choke on the acrid fumes from a nearby welding torch. It was almost a relief to pass through the airlock into Sarvek Dome itself.
Almost. The buildings huddled around the spaceport were almost all made of coralwood, the trunk of native trees treated with a sealant to keep the heavy metals of the native plants inside. The coating gave the wood a variety of pastel hues which did not fare well under the bloody light of the red dwarf that was Tellor’s idea of a sun. The older construction, where they sealant had worn off, were a universal gray that matched the paving of the roads between them.
The locally made concrete paving crumbled easily and after more than a hundred years was really no better than a gravel road. It’s sad that I know my way to Riley’s so well, Kyle thought as he took a right turn down a narrow alley. And that I keep winding up back here. Then again, Tellor was the only system with a jump point into the Ardovan system and Riley had the best information. Even 150 years after the Anyuvin War, the wreckage of the Third Confed Fleet in Ardovan yielded some pricey scrap — if you knew where to find it — and Riley listened to the salvagers that came into the Oasis and, for a price, would pass it on.
Kyle stopped at the door to Riley’s bar and sighed before stepping inside. In this neighborhood the power was — uncertain. The lights flickered with a migraine-inducing randomness and the air had the same dusty, metallic smell that permeated the less ventilated parts of the dome. And if there wasn’t a haze of drug smoke in the air, it was only because Riley didn’t want anything competing with his own, privately distilled Akonya, a mead-like brew brought to Tellor by the Anyuvin refugees that had originally been sent here as POWs. Kyle had had real Akonya, and found Riley’s sugar-syrup-and-fake-citrus-flavored concoction detestable, but information had its price.
“Someone tech savvy, you say?” Riley said, picking up a towel that had probably not seen soapy water in quite some time. He was a large, hulking man, ill suited to his occupation. At least, as a bartender. Fortunately for Riley, he had his finger on the pulse of Sarvek Dome and a thriving black market business on the side. Riley would know if anyone was looking to get off-planet.
Kyle nodded as the liquor burned its way down his throat. “A lot of my salvage is computer equipment, sensor systems, that kind of thing.”
“No, can’t think of anyone off hand,” Riley said, smiling with what teeth he had left and wiping down the bar in front of Kyle. The rag smelled of mildew.
With an inward sigh, Kyle dropped a ten credit chip on the bar.
“I’ll have another,” he said, hoarsely, and the money disappeared under the rag.
“On second thought,” Riley continued as he poured Kyle’s drink. “You might try the Žeka Tomkoce.”
“Anyuvin?” Kyle asked.
Riley snorted. “With a name like that? Of course! Anny named Rašak runs the place. Give me a minute.”
Kyle nodded and stared down at his drink as Riley moved off to serve another customer. This just keeps getting better and better, Kyle thought. Not that he had anything against Anyuvin, mind you — he’d known enough back on Kazavan — but they attracted the wrong kind of attention and they weren’t always friendly. They had no love of humans and, given what he’d seen growing up, he couldn’t really blame them. On the other hand, Kyle thought, the Akonya’s got to be better in an Anyuvin bar.
Riley came back a few minutes later.
“They say,” Riley said, leaning on the bar and putting his head near Kyle’s, “that one of them’s trying to get off planet. Says that it’s a right deft hand with computers and the like, too. Name’s Vazi.”
Kyle backed away from Riley’s bad breath, nodding his thanks.
I hate it when they do that, Kyle thought as he walked out of Riley’s. You just don’t call people ‘it’ — even if we did fight a war with them.