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conditions. They would never personally appear. Always they sent some low-level representative for the sake of plausible deniability. The fact that the Governor didn't care about deniability meant that this gig was personal for him — and you don't deny a top official something personal. "And what is the task?"

Juarez called forth one of his bodyguards, a tall, bald man with a cybernetic implant covering his right ear and right eye. The bodyguard held a safebox by a handle at the top and gingerly placed it on the concrete floor in front of Dirken.

"Deliver this safebox to the Earth consulate on Nüwa," Juarez said. "The Ambassador's men will meet you and will pay you handsomely. Until then, do not leave its side. You are required to travel aboard a United Worlds starship and will be escorted the entire way."

Dirken and Yiorgos exchanged glances.

"I'm having trouble understanding something, your… um… governorship," Dirken said. "If you're just going to have us travel aboard a UW ship with an escort, why not just have a military porter the whole way instead of paying us seven hundred thousand chits?" Dirken knew he was treading uneasy territory. Smugglers don't ask questions like that. "One of your black ops teams, for instance?"

Juarez paused, leveling his eyes at Dirken's. "I would think you could guess the answer, amigo. There is no government action that isn't recorded in some official way. On paper — if you appear at all — it will be as civilian consultants traveling between planetary offices. Beyond that, any information is classified. I have already told you as much as you need to know to do the job. But of you, dear smugglers, we know everything. We have researched you very thoroughly. And I can assure you, amigo, with the money you earn from this mission, you will be able to replace that rattletrap clipper you crashed on Rorgos."

Dirken gasped in surprise then tried, too late, to hide it. The mention of the Brilliant's demise was a not-so-subtle threat. If they knew about the crash, then they probably knew about the illegal load they were hauling at the time, and probably so many more illegal activities they'd been involved in. If they declined this mission, the Feds might very well arrest them in retaliation. Such things didn't need to be said when you were in control of half a world.

Juarez smiled broadly. "I will pay ten thousand chits up front. So do you accept this mission or not?"

Dirken and Yiorgos looked at each other again. The cyborg gave a slight nod and a sigh. Dirken returned the nod.

"Yes," Dirken replied in a flat voice to Juarez. "We accept."

"Excelente!" the Governor replied. "I am so glad you did. Remember, I was never here, gentlemen, and when you have finished the mission, you will forget you ever took part." He raised a finger at them. "And trust me, we will be watching."

Juarez had his bodyguard give them an advance of ten thousand chits each by typing the account numbers and amounts into an arm holodisplay bracelet. The money instantly transferred to Dirken's Shipper's Guild account on Tesla and siphoned into half a dozen untraceable accounts on other planets.

Juarez nodded to his bodyguards. The men quickly ushered Dirken and Yiorgos to a shuttle that took them and their escorted "package" up to the Excellentia.

The entire way up to the destroyer, Dirken and Yiorgos just sat across from one another in the shuttlecraft, the safebox sitting at their feet between them. They didn't say a word to each other. They didn't need to. It was clear they had been railroaded the moment they accepted the job from Weed. Now the only thing they could do was ride this train to the end of the line.

CHAPTER SEVEN

ANANAK

Dirken started to open his eyes, but the light was too intense. His head felt like it had been hit by a comet. He groaned as he rubbed his left temple.

"Heh. You deserve it," Yiorgos said from somewhere to Dirken's left. "'Trust me,' you said."

Dirken was lying on his back. He turned over to face Yiorgos and opened his eyes again, squinting. The cyborg was propped up on one arm on a metal bunk on the other side of the cell they shared.

"Well," Dirken replied, "we ain't dead yet." He closed his eyes again. His right hand went to the breast pocket of his leather jacket. He was relieved to find his lucky Rigellian runestone at the bottom. Of course his blaster and gunbelt were missing, as was his pack — and his tablet with his porn collection. He wasn't sure which he'd miss more.

"Are we still on the corvette?" Dirken asked.

"No. They moved us to a brigantine after the gravjump. UW ships showed up about the time you were knocked unconscious. The pirates already had their gravwell engines spun up, so they jumped out of there right after you passed out. I overheard that the other brigantine was captured."

"And the Excellentia?"

"The Excellentia was temporarily out of commission, but if we'd stayed we surely would have been rescued by the UW ships." Yiorgos paused a tick, then added, "Therese wouldn't have let you make that decision. She wouldn't have let you leave the hangar in the first place."

Dirken poked a finger at him. "Don't mention that name!"

"Who? The love of your life? Now that was a woman."

Dirken abruptly sat up. "She wasn't the love of my life!" He stumbled for words, then blurted, "We were just partners for eight years. And… and she made plenty of mistakes, too! Remember the time she led us right into those guards at Ferris Station, off Io? Remember?"

"Yeah. I remember, Dirk. I remember eight years of love affair. And do you remember why our attack on Ferris Station failed?" Yiorgos pointed a finger back at Dirken. "You forgot to charge the rifle packs!"

"Oh, here we go again!" Dirken threw up his hands. "I told you, the packs were compromised by electromagnetic

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