I frown, because the elevator hasn’t moved. We’re still on the peacekeeper floor. Zebah shrugs, following Bethiah out. Something tells me Zebah is just glad to no longer be in an enclosed space with Bethiah, who is acting way too nice and unnaturally calm. Is this a trap? I can’t imagine Bethiah wanting to return here, so there has to be something else at play. Maybe she forgot something. Reluctant, I follow behind the two females.
I’d feel so much better if Helen was here. Ironic how I’d imagined this big task being that much harder having to keep her safe, and yet I’m the one wishing she was at my back with a blaster instead of these two unpredictable bounty hunters. I keep a safe distance behind the two females, watching Bethiah’s movements as she marches right up to the peacekeeper at the entrance. He immediately gestures at her blasters and speaks. “Remove all weapons—”
“Shhh,” Bethiah says, leaning over the table and putting a finger on the peacekeeper’s lips. The male recoils at the touch, scrubbing at his mouth. “We’re interested in heading to the Belly.”
The male gives us guarded looks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Bethiah nods and I can’t tell if this is another one of her random, weird pranks, or if this is legit. “We can pay.” She gestures at me. “Ante up, best friend.”
“It really bothers me how she says that,” mutters Zebah as I step forward.
I eye the male and he moves to the wall of lockboxes behind him and plucks one out of the middle. He returns to the table and holds out the open lockbox. “You know what to deposit.”
Bethiah gestures at me. I eye the box, hesitant to turn over more credits, when I notice there’s a keycard at the bottom of the supposedly empty weapon box. I slide the credits out of my pouch and into the box and reach for the card. Bethiah puts her hand over mine, stopping me. “Don’t be stingy. Our friend here never forgets a face.”
As in, if we want him to forget our faces, we need to pay more. I glance at the impassive male and then toss another handful of credits in. This time he grunts, and I swipe the keycard. He gestures at our weapons. “If you want to go inside, I’m going to need you to take those off.”
“Oh, looks like we changed our minds,” Bethiah declares dramatically. “Thanks for the help, but we’ll be going.” She grabs my arm and drags me away. “I think we took a wrong turn, my sweet noodle. Let’s get back on the elevator and stop bothering this nice man.”
Kef, her acting skills are terrible. The lines sound as fake as her tone. Rolling my eyes, I let her lead me back onto the elevator and Bethiah immediately punches the controls to close. Zebah steps in just in time, her tail narrowly avoiding being sliced off by the quick slide of the doors. She glares at Bethiah, who just beams at us and snatches the card from my grasp.
“Going up,” she calls out gaily. “Get ready to have fun, best friends.”
That sounds…bad.
CHAPTER 60
MATHIRAS
At first glance, the Belly looks like the rest of Three Nebulas. The dark halls are crowded with people, the stink of too many bodies is in the air, and a makeshift booth is set up on the floor every few paces, with goods set down on a blanket for purchasers to peruse. But as we go farther inside and get a closer look, my tail prickles.
The people crowding the halls are covered in weapons, suspicious looks on their faces. The only females I see—other than Bethiah and Zebah—wear shock-collars around their necks, a sign that they’re owned. Mercenaries and bounty hunters are evident down every hall we pass, identifiable by the hard, calculating looks on their faces and the sheer amount of weaponry they’re wearing. I see a lot of Zakoar’s customers down here—people with metal prosthetics or illegal enhancements. A praxiian female with bionic silver eyes passes by us, her shock collar flashing.
Worse than the shoppers are the vendors.
I thought I’d seen a lot, but apparently I’ve only scraped the surface of what sort of trade goes on in 3N. One ooli male sells “edibles” that look like limbs and organs. Another sells tubes of genetic material. A third sells incendiary weapons and custom blaster enhancements. We continue forward, and the hall widens. I hear the grunts of fighters and the shout of bids on what must be a gladiator match of some kind. I hear the sound of an auctioneer in the distance, just as Bethiah turns to me.
She slings an arm around my shoulders and pats my chest, eyeing the shadowy figures that cluster through the halls. Everyone here is masked or wearing a cloak. “All right, my good, good friend. You wanted to do a little human shopping? Be aware that the merchandise here is probably a little bit more carelessly used than you’re used to. Keep that in mind.”