Dragon and Judge

He peered through the pinhole a moment, then handed it back. "Nice gadget," he said. "Must have set you back some."

"You just have to know where to shop," Alison said, setting down the mirror and pulling out her mascara tube. Unscrewing the bottom end, she wedged it into her ear. Then, being careful to avoid the lasers, she pressed the open end of the tube against the escutcheon plate beside the combination dial.

A soft hum of static issued from the earphone: the hazer she'd expected. She counted off the seconds as the tiny computer inside the tube analyzed the sound, patterned it, and phase-countered it.

Before her count reached thirty, the sound was gone. Single stage, all right. Leaning forward, again being careful not to brush the laser pattern, she got a grip on the dial and started turning.

Two minutes later, with the clicks from the tumblers as loud and solid as if the whole thing had been a basic training exercise, she had it.

"Careful," Mustache warned as Alison pulled the door open a couple of inches.

"I know," Alison assured him, stopping the door's swing before it reached the nearest of the laser beams. "I trust there's nothing in here you actually wanted?"

Mustache raised his eyebrows at Sideburns, who had been murmuring a running commentary on Alison's progress into the UniLink. "Go ahead and close it," Sideburns said. "We'll continue the conversation in the main room."

"Okay," Alison said when the three of them were back in the cafe proper again. "What now?"

"The boss is impressed," Sideburns said. "He wants to offer you a job."

Alison shook her head. "Sorry. I'm kind of booked at the moment."

"Interesting choice of words," Sideburns said, gesturing to the shoulder bag. "Considering we have some stolen property here with your fingerprints and DNA all over it."

Alison glared at him. "You said you weren't cops."

"We're not, but we don't mind turning scum like you over to them," Mustache said.

"Or you can listen to the boss's offer," Sideburns suggested.

"Like I have a choice?" Alison growled, suppressing a sigh. Jack had made it clear he didn't really want her on the Essenay. This was his big chance to get rid of her for good. "What's the job?"

"Basically, the same thing you just did," Sideburns said. "He wants you to open a safe."

"Where?"

"You'll see when you get there."

"Where?" Alison repeated. "I need to know up front how dangerous it's going to be."

Sideburns made a face. "She wants to know where," he said into the UniLink. He listened a moment, then nodded. "It's on Brum-a-dum."

"No police, no curious bystanders, no awkward questions," Mustache added.

"That helps," Alison said. Brum-a-dum was the planet where Jack had briefly been made a slave a couple of months back. Interesting that whoever was chasing Virgil Morgan had also picked that world to—

Her throat seemed to squeeze shut. Someone currently on Brum-a-dum. Someone looking for Virgil Morgan. Someone who desperately needed a safe opened.

Arthur Neverlin.

Oh, no, she thought, her heart suddenly racing. No no no no no.

"You'll get twenty thousand for doing the job," Sideburns went on. "Any equipment you need will also be provided."

And if that was Neverlin on the other end of the conversation, that meant the safe had to be one of the ones from Draycos's advance team, containing the rendezvous data for the main fleet. The information Neverlin needed if he was going to destroy the refugees.

The same information Jack and Draycos needed if they were going to save them. "Must be a tricky safe," she managed.

"Very tricky," Sideburns agreed, his voice darkening. "I trust you weren't going to try to talk up the price?"

That had, in fact, been exactly what Alison had been planning to do. It would be expected of a professional thief.

But one look at Sideburns's face and she changed her mind. "Twenty is fine," she said. "But I also want private passage away from there when I'm done, someplace like Capstone or Glitter. Brum-a-dum isn't a place I want to get stuck on."

An actual, real smile touched Sideburns's lips. "I don't blame you," he said. "Don't worry, they'll make sure you get out of there."

Alison felt a shiver run through her. Yes, they'd get her off Brum-a-dum all right.

But not to some nice, safe, civilized world. More likely to some nice, quiet, lonely grave. "Okay, it's a deal," she said. "How do I get there?"

For a minute, Sideburns listened to the UniLink, his forehead creased with concentration. "Yes, sir," he said. "Yes, sir. Don't worry—we'll be there."

Shutting off the device, he put it away. "The boss has a ship he can divert this way," he told Mustache. "It'll be in the system in four hours—I've got the coordinates for a quiet rendezvous."

"Fine." Mustache pointed at the shoulder bag. "What about this?"

"Might as well send it along," Sideburns said. "Unless it's full of money."