The Truth of Valour by Tanya Huff

Author:Tanya Huff
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Titan Books

EIGHT

“So where do we start, Gunny?”

“With the bars. Drunks aren’t known for their discretion. The Heart of Stone scored big with Jan and Sirin’s salvage. People brag. They got hit with a Susumi wave. People talk. And I’m betting…” Torin remembered the look on the gray-haired woman’s face as she pushed past her toward the game. “…that Nat owes money to more than one person on this station.”

Mashona snickered. “Interesting emphasis, Gunny. I like how you make her name sound like a target.”

The four of them had taken half a dozen steps away from the docking-arm hatch when the hatch of the bar directly opposite them opened and a roar of laughter spilled out onto the concourse, closely followed by a flailing Human—traveling about a meter and a half off the deck and covering an impressive distance before landing.

“Gravity always wins,” Ressk observed as the middle-aged man hit the deck, rolled twice, and finished flat on his back.

Arms and legs splayed out, breathing heavily, the man waved a stained finger in the general direction of the bar while a turquoisehaired di’Taykan yelled, “And don’t come back!” out the open hatch. He jerked as the hatch slammed shut, announced with the overly precise diction of the very drunk that it had totally been worth it, flopped over onto his left side, and went to sleep.

“We’ll start there,” Torin said.

The Vritan Kayti was a di’Taykan bar, and the trick with di’Taykan bars was to take a good long look into the corners, realize that sex was not a spectator sport, and get on with things.

Not a spectator sport for most people, Torin amended, dropping into a chair at an empty table and ordering a beer from the center screen. Took all kinds. Werst was at the bar, Mashona had disappeared behind a drape of multicolored gauze, and Ressk had joined a game of darts. Torin doubted she had any subtle left, and since the last thing they wanted to do was give the game away and spook the bastards into killing Craig, it seemed like a better idea to let people come to her.

She ran her thumb around the inert plastic edge of the screen.

As more of them recognized her, someone would.

It was merely a matter of time.

Or would have been if she’d had any time to spare. Not counting time spent in Susumi space, Craig had been with the pirates for approximately twenty-eight hours. If they’d folded directly here after scooping him out of the debris field, he’d spent anywhere from three and a half to five days in Susumi—couldn’t be more precise without the exact equations but three and a half days minimum.

The militaries of oldEarth had a saying: Everyone breaks on the third day.

But Craig had information they needed. Page’s death had been an accident, an accident that said they’d wanted him alive more than they’d wanted him dead. They’d take their time with Craig.

Three and a half days minimum in Susumi. Another day in real space.

Four days.

If it

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