Rubicon by G. S. Jennsen

Author:G. S. Jennsen
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Science Fiction - Adventure, Science Fiction & Fantasy, space adventure, SciFi-Futuristic Romance, Spaceships, Scif-fi, Sci fi, Space Exploration, space travel, Science Fiction, scifi, Science Fiction - High Tech, science fiction romance, sci-fi, Space Opera, sci-fi space opera, Space Fleet, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Space ships, Science Fiction - Space Opera, Space warfare, Sci-Fi Romance, Science-Fiction, space fleets, Science Fiction - General, science fiction series, Science Fiction And Fantasy, scifi romance, Space Colonization
ISBN: 9780998424538
Publisher: Hypernova Publishing
Published: 2017-06-08T18:30:00+00:00

“You’re a wee little one, aren’t you?”

She straightened her spine, trying to make herself appear taller than her eleven years allowed. “I’m old enough. Ryu sent me. I’ve got what you asked for.”

The man licked his lips. “Let me see it.”

She nudged the coat draped over her arms to the side to reveal a Daemon power amplifier enclosed in a clear bag, then hurriedly pulled her coat back over it. “It’s four hundred. On a film, not a digital transfer.”

“I agreed to three hundred.”

“No. Four hundred. That’s the price Ryu said he negotiated.”

“Ryu’s lying. I’ll pay three hundred and not a single credit more.”

Had Ryu lied? He wasn’t brave enough to try to scam a customer…unless that was why he’d sent her. But why stir up a crisis over a hundred credits? They moved goods costing a lot more than a hundred credits all the time.

No, she resolved, this man was trying to scam her. He thought since she was young and small she was stupid. He was wrong.

She worked to inject a note of authority into her voice. “Sir, either you give me four hundred credits or I walk out of the alley with the merchandise.”

She saw it when he decided to kill her. His pupils contracted, the skin under his cheeks flushed and his jaw locked into this big, crooked line to jut way out from his neck.

“How about instead, I keep the credits, take the merchandise and walk out of the alley with them both.”

Her brother made her carry a blade for protection. She dropped the bag and the coat and fumbled in her pocket for the blade as the man lunged for her. His hands—they were no palm and all fingers—landed on her neck and began to squeeze.

So she flicked the blade on and did the only thing she could think to do: she thrust it forward.

The blade was tiny, barely eight centimeters long, but he was skinny. It felt squishy sliding inside him. His fingers spasmed around her neck, briefly cutting off all the oxygen, then went limp. Sticky warmth seeped out of his belly onto her hand.

She jerked the blade out and stumbled backward. He stumbled in the opposite direction to sag against the alley wall, hands fumbling for the wound.

She ran.

She was five blocks away before she realized she was still holding the blood-soaked blade out in front of her. The darkness had saved her from being seen, but she couldn’t count on its protection, so she hid in another alley and hyperventilated until she nearly passed out.

Then she ran once again. Farther, until there were stars behind her.

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