Small Business Bites Scene 4

            After Mer Valli returned to work, Camille and I went back to the front of the shop.   We stood a bit behind the front window and watched the crowd  outside move about the impromptu food vendors. 

            "She was a bit... perturbed," I murmured in English.

            "Naturally. It's a sensitive subject,"  Camille replied.

            "Yes, yes, I know you don't like John and Joan Q Human knowing about your more exotic culinary interests."

            "You think all of us crave such things?" Camille asked. "There are humans living in Imperial Waters," 

            "Been there since your people escaped the Makers?"

            "We were all enslaved," Camille's voice gained an edge.

            "But if Valli were concerned about the reaction to flesh-peddlers then why was she more annoyed at you, one of her kind, than me,  the nosy human."

            Camille snorted. "Because I'm not her kind."

            I kept from kicking myself. "Right, she's Ferri and you're Vird."

            The taller Descended shrugged. "We Vird  make up the majority of the Imperial Navy."

            "Right, so there's a sense of 'We protect you from the Makers. Pay up.' " I ventured.

            "And Sein, B'ahn, and especially the Ferrie don't like that attitude."

            "Fine, she got twitchy about me brining in the wrong type of big demon chick."

I shrugged. "This why she doesn't go to the authorities? Imperial Authorities," I added.  We both knew that a Descended who sold and butchered meat would be less than keen to spread the rumor that there just might be an underground market in human flesh. 

            "The Navy likes to keep a clean image, especially in human controlled territory," Camille stated.

            "Controlled." I did not snort. The United States were interested in this world.  Enough was spent on this city's naval base. But that and the marshal's service were about the only real examples of visible American power on this planet.  I suppose some of the services my company provided counted,  but we tried to be more discrete.

            "What's the next step?"

            I murmured.

            "We can go to the Marshals," she offered.  "Leave Valli out of it."

            "With what?  We can name names but this crew'll deny everything."

            Camille did snort. "Please, these punks probably have the goods on ice somewhere leased under their own names."

            "If it's even on-world. If we could be so lucky.  And Valli could still get blamed."

            "Maybe it's not imported." My companion shrugged.

            I raised an eyebrow.  Mooring was a city but only by colonial standards. Even with the number of people arriving and leaving, before long such... harvesting would attract attention.

            "Valli can say it's anti-Descended bigotry and point out that it's a gang of humans who are flesh trafficking."

            The idea had its appeal.  "I have some contacts with the Marshals," I said.

            "Maybe there's some open missing persons cases," Camille mused.

            I glanced at her.  This as Mooring, people would arrive on one submarine and days later leave on another.  And the only record of their passing would be the cameras that picked up the things they bought with cash or prepaid cards. 

            Out here, there was no shortage of water.  All one needed to dispose of a body,  or  the remainder of a body was a boat,  patience, and a bit of ingenuity.

            "Maybe there's a rash of them," she amended. "Smuggling, especially on a submarine is delicate work, and it sounds like they're starting up," she said with a slight emphasis.

            I blinked.  Valli probably had not sold any of the gang's... product.   If she had,  Helen's favor would have been rather different.  I glanced at a clock on the wall for the time.  Well I glanced at the digital clock that was running local time. The hanging pendulum clock next to it was decorative, if functional, given it was split into eighteen hours, Descended style.

            "We have descriptions of the gang," she murmured.  "Including tattoos and mods."

            "Some of the gang," I reminded. Just because Valli saw a few folks trying to press her into being their seller, didn't meant that the gang didn't have more members. Still that was information we could use.

            Watching the outside, I started to move towards the door.

            "Back to the bar or the office?"  Camille asked.

            "Office if you don't mind," I stated as we entered the little yard in front of the shop.  The girls had shut down the smoker and brazier and were selling off the last bits to the dispersing customers.

            Crossing from the door to the street scattered the last of them,  the handful Descended slipping into the night with their late snacks.   A bit of sparks flew as the brazier was doused behind us.

            Camille fell in a couple steps behind and too the side.

            This time of night the Descended Quarter was especially dim, with only the red lights.   If my companion noted the route I was taking was not the most direct to the office but instead would take us to a main road the quickest, she did not complain.

            Nor would I expect her to.

            A few people passed us as we walked between the dim buildings.  Though the side street I took us down had, instead of a bustling little casino, a shuttered storefront.

             The pair of men walking ahead of us slowed.  I cut across the empty street with Camille at my heel. 

            Back on the sidewalk, I caught a reflection in a window and saw that she had glanced back.  From what I could see myself there was no one behind us. Still, a low growl rumbled in her throat.

            Unfortunately,  the men further down the street stopped and cut across back to our side of the street.

            Then a several things happened. A few more men exited an alley by the closed casino. My phone gave a chirp that ,while friendly enough sounding, was ominous.

            Stepping to the side so my back was to the wall. I recognized the seven people.   One of the two that had been leading us was the slim man in the dark coat I had last seen by the dry fruit bins.

            Among the gaggle that had come from the alley was a bald man with silver modwork up his neck and a short-haired dusky man with a prosthetic hand that were outside the store.   Not everyone in the group had obvious mods but enough did for me to suspect all of them had some form or augments.  The other four matched descriptions Valli had given us.

            Camille's stance had shifted and her hands were in what seemed to be a casual place.

            Technically they had yet not encircle us, but if we made a break for it they'd be on us.   Well,  Camille could try to fly out I supposed,  but she'd make an awfully big target trying to get into the air.

            "Gentlemen?" I gave them a sharp smile, and focused my hand on the man that was with the dried fruit-fellow. Pale, he was a reedy, gaunt fellow with green eyes that shined a bit too much to be natural, his hair was pulled back in a ponytail and he wore a suit of surprising taste.

            "You've been nosing around in our business,"  the man said in a smooth voice with a bit of  a twang.  The men around him had directed their gazes to Camille and her slowly swishing tail.

            My attention went to him.  Valli gave the impression he was the leader, or at least he talked the most.  "If you're looking to talk business, this is not the best venue," I stated.

            I held up a hand to forestall him ordering his goons.  I cursed myself for thinking I could get away with doing this with minimal resources This was not a conflict I wanted.  At least they did not have any weapons out,  yet.

            "I know who you work for, and I figure you can help us with a few other businesses that aren't with the program," he sneered.

            Meting his gaze, I nodded. "Ah, pity."