Reynard looked out the window of the club, across the main tarmac and a sea of small aircraft to the Sunside Airport, crowned with a much-bruised and beaten Firenza. After the air battle and the Aztecs' utter defeat, several Mafia ships had arrived to tow the flagship back to Arcadia, where it resumed its customary position atop the enormous ziggurat—the only difference being that it was now swarming with repair personnel and vehicles, mending the gaping wound in its side. Reynard brought his attention back to the present as he felt Frankie tap on his shoulder. He smiled, looking out across the grand dining hall of the club at a sea of Mafia higher-ups, including the Don himself, Elise seated next to him and giving him an indulgent smile. A sea of cocktail waiters and waitresses swarmed around like bees, one of them presently lighting on Reynard's table and delivering him a glass of his favorite single malt whiskey. At the table sat Frankie, Reynard, Anlek, and Luciano, the latter standing out in his black coat and tie—dark blue, unintentionally matching the mottled bruise spreading across the left side of his face. Reynard was bandaged as well, his shoulder bound tightly to his chest underneath his clothing. The need to scratch it was a constant one, but he had no intentions of scratch himself vigorously in front of the girl he was beginning to think was his girlfriend.
Several hospitals in Arcadia City had seen a surge in patients when the Firenza returned, and Reynard had spent a day or two in a blissful intravenous haze as he got over the worst of the damage and shock he had taken from the blast wound on his shoulder. According to Anlek, Frankie had come to visit him while he was unconscious, fretting that he'd been aboard the airship when the Aztecs had attacked. Apparently she too had been working for the Mafia, running down a suspicious group of Aztecs that had been shadowing Luciano and Elise while they planned the Firenza's electronics upgrade. Now she was beside him, today, a guest of honor at this dinner for her efforts in shutting down the Aztecs' attack. She was wearing her Clip today, but—as only a few people would really notice—it was only modifying her true appearance a little, in some cases in minor and disconcerting ways.
A few moments later, Don Carlo clanged a case knife against his wine goblet, calling the room to attention. “Today,” he began, “despite the intentions of our Family's enemies, we will be demonstrating a new piece of technology recently installed on the flagship of our airship fleet, the Firenza. A brilliant young man and his equally shrewd Eckoli partner were able to provide us with something truly interesting, something that may give us an undeniable edge against the other Families who plot against us—and even those that we just want to look good in front of.” This brought a chuckle from men and women throughout the room. “Elise, darling, if you would please,” he said, handing her a control pad the size of a Com3 device. In the center of the room, a younger man erected a signal detection device with a holographic HUD that stretched nearly to the ceiling. A list of signatures—from both airships and spaceships within the area—began to scroll up and down. The man tuned the machine down to a few hundred feet, located the Firenza on the list and selected it. Basic registered information about the ship showed up on the HUD, from size, to mass, to maximum occupancy.
“Flip that first switch there, Elise,” the aging Don said, pointing to a spot on the device. Suddenly the information disappeared from the holographic display, replaced with the words 'Airship Firenza out of detection range'. A murmur ran through the crowd. “All right, now the second,” Carlo said. Information came back up on the screen, this time entirely wrong, describing a smaller independent ship called the Roman Holiday. Elise flipped a third switch. The Firenza's information came back up, but with subtle tweaks designed to confuse and hinder an enemy. “Thank you, Elise,” the Don said, sitting down, and the room erupted with applause. Frankie smiled at Reynard as he fidgeted restlessly in his seat, not sure what to make of this newfound renown. Carlo went on to explain in no brief terms how this kind of device could be used against their enemies and that the technology would be making its way into space soon, to the edges of the system where pirates and bandits caused a constant problem for Mafia ships smuggling goods brought in by Eckoli, Colossi, and outsystem traders.
Dinner arrived soon, a plate of heavy neo-Sicilian fare, and Reynard ate until he was stuffed to the seams, his first real meal since he'd set foot on the moon of Isis. Finally, over dessert, Luciano made his excuses and left the table to speak with the Don. Reynard turned to Frankie. “I guess I hadn't gotten the chance to say this yet, but thank you for coming when you did. We were beginning to have a hard time staying alive.”
Frankie laughed. “I was pretty surprised—scared, too—to see you down there, bleeding out on the ground. I'm glad I came when I did too.”
Anlek nodded. “Sorry bastards tried to take his baby away. Surely you didn't expect him to take it lying down?”
“Afternoon chumps, also Frankie,” Elise said, sliding in to Luciano's vacant chair and leaning forward. “You did good, all of you. I heard you two were under the impression that I've been, ah, moonlighting for the Aztecs?”
Reynard barely stopped himself from spitting out a mouthful of drink, he and Anlek flying full-tilt into a chatter of disclaimers and apologies before they realized she was laughing.
“It's all right. I know I don't always seem like someone they should trust. I'm an information broker at the end of the day, but I have a soft spot for the Don and his Family. So what was it, the furtive Com3 calls?”
Anlek nodded uncertainly. “Yeah, that seemed pretty suspicious, you giving out our coordinates and whispering in empty hallways . . .”
Frankie's mouth fell open. “She was on the phone with me. You thought she was spying for the Aztecs?!” Frankie erupted into gales of laughter. “She hates those bastards half as much as I do!”
Reynard lifted a finger, speaking sheepishly. “What about the guy in the black cloak you kept talking to?”
Elise grabbed Reynard's drink, slamming back half of its contents and leaving a smear of red lipstick on the rim as she pushed herself up from the table. “I was tryin' to get him in bed. You surprised?” She smiled at Reynard's embarrassed expression. “And by the way, yes, I was successful. See you around chumps, see you next week Frankie.”
“Bye Elise,” Frankie said, turning around to laugh her boyfriend and his partner. “Hilarious.”
Anlek shook his head. “That woman is a pain in the ass.”
Frankie nodded. “Yeah, but she can be pretty entertaining at times.”
The three were interrupted again as Luciano returned to the table, a triumphant grin on his face. “Anlek, Reynard, it has been a pleasure working with you. The Don is very excited about our partnership. I'll be sending you information on our next upgrade in the next few days.”
Reynard smiled, and Anlek emitted a pleased-sounding buzz through his modulator. “I'd hate to say it's been all fun, sir, but it's definitely been interesting. I'm looking forward to it too.”
Luciano grinned. “In the meantime, take a look at your credit account. I think you'll be pleased.”
Reynard pulled his Com3 device out of his pants pocket, flipping it open and sliding his finger across several holographs. Suddenly his eyes widened. “Mr. Luciano, this is nearly twice what we agreed on for the test run.”
Reynard pulled his Com3 device out of his pants pocket, flipping it open and sliding his finger across several holographs. Suddenly his eyes widened. “Mr. Luciano, this is nearly twice what we agreed on for the test run.”
Reynard was forced to put his open Com3 down on the table as Luciano reached out to shake his hand, a truly magnificent number rotating in the air and bringing a low whistle from Anlek. Luciano walked away, giving a friendly goodbye wave. “Wow,” Reynard said. He turned to Frankie. “Frankie, I guess I won't be on this planet for long, if we're really headed outsystem soon. What do you say we do something special together?” Frankie's eyebrows went up. “I don't know what. I'll think about it.”
Frankie smiled. “Sounds great. I'm sure we can work around my schedule.”
Anlek laughed. “Surely there's a day or two you don't have slated for mayhem or chaos in the next couple of weeks, kid.”
“One other thing,” Reynard said, “Given that I have no idea what I'm doing, do you think you could join the two of us at the shipyards sometime soon for a little bit of shopping? I believe I've got what I need for a down payment.”
Anlek spluttered. “A ship? You didn't say a damn thing about it to me.”
Frankie nodded. “Sure. What kind are you thinking of? I know a lot more about quality than price, and I learned all that in the last few months, but you're right, I do know a lot more than you do.” She smiled mischievously.
Reynard tapped his chin. “I was thinking something light-freight sized, maybe docking for one shuttle, a good solid docking tube in case a particularly attractive friend of mine decides to come visit—and I mean you, Frankie, if that was too oblique.”
Frankie smiled. “No, I got it. Compliment duly noted.”
“Good. The only other thing is I'd like it to have either a large passenger cabin or an enclosable cargo compartment. Something big enough to hold, say, a small drinking establishment.”
“Oh no you don't, Reynard!” Anlek said. “Do you want the damn thing to crash?”
Reynard patted his partner, his friend, on the back. “No, I think our bad luck's run out, Anlek. Besides, I owe it to you. You fired that gun for me, and I don't plan to forget it.”
Anlek muttered something, finally arriving at “thanks.”
"You're welcome. So, what do you think you're gonna do with that broken down old electrical pole you've been carrying around thinking it was a horrifying weapon?”
Anlek shrugged. “I dunno. I was kind of thinking it would make a good conversation piece hung behind the bar.”
Reynard chuckled, looking over to see Frankie already poring over data on used ships on her Com3. “Hey, Frankie? I'm also gonna need a ship with sturdy, load-bearing bulkheads.”
Frankie gave Reynard a serious look, seemingly ignoring his joke. “I think we can probably come up with something over drinks tonight.”
Reynard grinned, looking out the window again at the enormous airship and the bright, perpetual day of Isis' light side. I guess our bad luck really has finally run out. “Hey,” he said, turning to Anlek. “I'm feeling pretty lucky today, and we never really got to go to the casino on the ship. I've got a date tonight, but if you wanna go hit the tables after this . . . ?”
“Sure thing, partner.” He reached for his drink, and motioned for Reynard to take up his lipstick-stained tumbler. He raised his glass in a toast and Frankie and Reynard joined him. “To Isis,” he said, motioning out the window, “for finally turning our fortunes around.”
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