"You don't need to do that," he protested. "Standard contract. Just sign it."

I shifted away from him and continued reading. It was much more than a standard contract. I was basically agreeing to haul his ceramics until the universe ended if I signed it as written. For the same price forever. I picked up the pen. He quivered, eager to see me sign. I crossed out several chunks of small text. His nose twitched.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

"Trial contract," I answered, writing in additional clauses. "I'll deliver the three cargoes you currently have in storage, over the next three weeks, and then I'll contact you to decide if I want to sign something more permanent."

He spluttered, outraged to the point where he couldn't talk. It was an improvement.

"I'll charge you the standard delivery fees," I added, writing a list of charges below the clauses I'd added. "Payable either up front or on delivery, whichever you have arranged." I signed my name and ship name and put the pen down. "Failure to pay will result in legal action taken on my behalf by the Guild." Which also meant he'd be blacklisted by the Guild, I could tell he knew that by his sudden gulp.

"I pay a deposit up front, the rest you collect on delivery," he said reaching for the contract.

He took the paper and read through it, especially the parts I'd added. He frowned over the charges. I'd listed them by distance and time as well as cargo weight, since I had no idea where the planets were located, it was the safest way to guarantee I was fair to both of us. He opened his mouth to protest. I just looked at him. He snapped his mouth shut and signed.

"I'll expect delivery of the cargo this afternoon," I said taking my copy of the contract. "The ship is in berth five twenty two. Nice doing business with you."

His thin face twitched, his mouth stretched out into something that was almost pleasant. "I admire a sharp dealer, captain, but the contract stipulates that you will arrange for delivery of the cargo from my warehouse to your ship."

"It said nothing of the kind," I answered with my own smile. "But I'll do it anyway, this once. Good day, Hom Shoot. And thanks for the lunch." I left him with the bill. He didn't seem to mind.

I walked outside the restaurant and called Jasyn. Her com wasn't answering; I got the out of range message. I tried Clark and got a busy signal. It wasn't important. I headed back to the ship.

The streets were crowded, it was lunch time and most of the population seemed to be outside enjoying the sunshine. I picked my way through the crowds, not in any particular hurry. It shouldn't take long to find a cargo hauler and pick up the ceramics.

The streets were wide, but designed more for walking than vehicles. Flitters passed constantly overhead. The wide streets had plenty of landing pads as well as low planters full of blooming plants. It was a very pleasant planet.

I stopped to admire a particularly eye-catching blue flower. Something zinged past my hand. A chip of plascrete snapped off the planter and flipped away. I froze in place. Another chip snapped off and clipped my hand, drawing blood. I stepped to the side, looking for cover. Someone grabbed me in arms hard with muscle and shoved me into an alleyway. He pinned me against the wall. All I could see was green fabric, the same color as my own suit.

"Stay still," Clark muttered.

"I can't breathe," I muttered back. He let me go, barely. I slid to the side, staying close to the wall.

He had his back to me and a small gun in his hand, watching the street beyond the alley. I shifted farther into the shadows. I watched the street, past the blue flowers. I caught sight of two men in dark outfits moving purposefully towards us.

"We've got company," I said.

"I see them," Clark answered. He'd transformed into a cold professional, voice precise and eyes hard as stone. He handled his gun with a very practiced air.

He lunged into the street and came right back, dragging someone with him, gun tight against the man's cheek. "Make the wrong move and I shoot," Clark said in a voice as cold as his eyes. "Why are you following us?"

The man jerked his head, but Clark kept a tight hold on his collar.

"Why do you think?" the man said, giving me a cold look.

"You tell me," Clark threatened, "or I start shooting bits off."

The man just smiled, a narrow look that was anything but amused or happy.

I caught movement beyond him at the mouth of the alley. The other men were coming, guns held low. The good citizens of Shamustel didn't seem to notice. Man number one twisted, breaking Clark's grip. Clark lashed out and punched him in the face. The other men moved faster, closing in on us. I did the only thing I could think of.

I screamed.

Chapter Nine.

I definitely attracted attention. The dark men put their guns away and melted back into the crowds. People stopped to peer into the alley. I heard sirens in the distance. Clark and man number one punched each other a few more times. Man number one was trying to get away; Clark kept him in the alley.

The local police landed outside the alley, dozens of blue uniforms swarmed over the area. Clark and man number one were separated. Clark moved back to stand by me.

"What happened here?" one of the police asked us.

"They mugged me," man number one said.

"He was shooting at me," I said.

"Take them all to the station," the policeman ordered his underlings.

"I want to press charges," man number one continued. "They assaulted me."

Clark didn't say anything.

The police searched all of us. I emptied my pockets and showed them my ID cards, a few credits, the necklace the fluttery woman had given me, and the contract for the ceramics from Juntis Shoot. The police handed them all back.

I watched them search Clark, my nerves twitching. I wondered how he was going to explain his gun. It wasn't legal on Shamustel. He didn't look worried. He didn't have the gun. The police found it in man number one's pocket. Clark winked. I bit back a grin. Man number one protested loudly as they cuffed him and led him away.

Clark and I were put into separate flitters. We weren't cuffed, which I took for a good sign.

The police station had pillars, too, just not as chunky as a Patrol office. I was escorted to a desk in the back of the busy room. A Shuisha, a short furry sapient who wore a simple belt with a badge on it for clothing, asked for my prints. I put my hand on the scanner and identified myself. The computer beeped and the Shuisha's baby blue eyes went as big as saucers. It jumped down from the chair and bustled across the room to whisper with a human officer.

The human officer came across the room, her boots thudding heavily on the thin carpet. She bent over the computer console and pushed a few buttons. The Shuisha climbed back onto its chair and watched me. The human officer shot me a confused look and went away.

"Come with me, please," said a pleasant voice behind me.

I stood to face a tall man, distinguished looking in a plain dark suit. He smiled blandly and indicated an office to one side.

Man number one was on the far side of the room, near the holding cells, glaring and talking fast. I saw no sign of Clark. I went into the office, glad to get away from man number one.

The office was paneled with dark wood. The carpet underfoot was twice as thick as that outside. The man shut the door, closing out the busy noise of the main room.

"Please, sit, captain." He went behind his desk.

I found a chair and sat.

"Your record is mosta" He hesitated, steepling his fingers. "Intriguing. Would you care to explain?"

"Explain what?" I asked, resigned to being questioned yet again about things I wasn't supposed to ever talk about.

"Viya Station lodged a complaint against you personally," he began, calling up my record on his desk console. "You have quite a police record as well. All charges taken care of, I see." He scrolled down. "And then there is this very interesting section. It refers me to the nearest Patrol headquarters for information. Should I call them?"

"What are you charging me with?" I didn't want to explain any of my past. None of it was my fault. Well, most of it wasn't.

"Disturbing the peace, which we take very seriously on Shamustel."

"They were shooting at me."

"Your crewman has been charged with assault." The police commander was being very reasonable, which meant he wasn't going to be reasonable at all.

"But that man had the gun."

"Why was he following you?"

"I don't know."

That got me a raised eyebrow and a skeptical look.

"I have legitimate business here." I pulled out my contract. "I'm just trying to make a living. It isn't my fault I was shot at and attacked."

"We'll see about that." A noncommittal answer that could be interpreted any way I wanted to. "We'll run a full check on you and your business. Until then, captain, I would suggest you and your crewman remain on your ship." He speared me with a look. "And don't lift until we give you permission. You may go now."

I wanted to tell him exactly what I thought of him but decided it wouldn't be smart. I clamped my mouth shut and left his office.

I stomped my way through the busy room, collecting a few stares and whispers as I went. Man number one was gone, hopefully locked up tight somewhere. I didn't see Clark anywhere in the room.

He wasn't out in the lobby either. He was in front of the building, leaning against one of the fat pillars, waiting for me. I stopped in front of him, glaring.

"Who are you really?"

"Trevyn Clark." He knew what I really asked, I saw it in his eyes. I also saw a stubbornness there that rivaled my own.

"Who do you work for?"

"You, at least that's what my contract says."

"Who planted you on my ship?"

"Dace, this is a bit public, don't you think?" He took my arm and pulled me away.

I dug in my heels and dragged him to a stop. "I want answers, Clark."

"So do I. Let's go back to the ship and find some."

I gave in. No matter who he really worked for, I thought Clark was on my side.

Jasyn was waiting for us, like I'd expected. She leaned against the hatch, arms crossed, as we walked up. "You were on the news. I'm surprised I didn't have to come bail you out again."

"Again?" Clark asked, eyebrows raised. "You do this often, Dace?"

"You should know," I said, shoving past him into the ship. "Didn't Lowell give you my record to read?"

"Are we back on that again?" Jasyn followed me in. "Tell her you don't work for the Patrol, Clark, so she'll shut up about it."

He didn't say anything. He stepped inside and thumbed the controls. The hatch slid shut.

Jasyn looked back and forth between us. "Are you going to tell me what happened, Dace? Or do I have to beat it out of you?"

I went to the cockpit and sat in front of the computer. "I was attacked. The police arrested one of the men shooting at us and restricted me to the ship. Clark, too, so you'll have to collect our cargo." I handed her the contract. "And record it with the Guild."

She sighed. "I swear you do this on purpose, just so I have to do the paperwork. Your hand's bleeding."

"It's stopped."

"What are you going to do here, Dace?" Jasyn asked.

"Find some answers, I hope."

"To what?"

That stumped me. What questions was I really trying to answer?

"Who's following you and why," Clark said in the doorway. "Those men were after you, Dace."

Jasyn rolled her eyes. "I'll just go take care of the cargo, shall I? Payment up front?"

"Some." I gave her the short version of my conversation with Juntis Shoot. "I left a request with the Guild library on those planets," I finished.

"You keep getting picked up by police and the Guild will kick you out," Jasyn said.

"I'm not trying to."

"You just have bad luck, I know. Back in a couple of hours."

She left and Clark sat in the pilot chair, swiveling it around to face me. I held my hands over the keypad, unsure of what questions to ask or where to even start looking.

"You want me to key in my personal file?" Clark asked. "That should answer your questions about me."

"Do you work for Lowell?" I asked, dropping my hands and facing him.

"Would it really make a difference if I did?" He rubbed his eyes. "I'm here as a pilot. Does the rest matter?"

"I guess not," I admitted.