BioCybe Read Online Free Page B

spilled over the sides of the cup.
    “Don’t know. What have you heard?”
    “The Golden Echo is looking for a pilot. They need
someone with deep space and long haul experience.”
    She rubbed her hand across the scar at her left temple.
“I might be interested. What more do you know?”
    He grinned and tossed a tiny data chip in her direction.
“It’s all on there. Don’t know much about the ship, but from what I’ve gleaned,
it’s an all male crew.”
    He leered and it was a trial not to roll her eyes. Like
she was chasing any kind of romantic situation. After all, in her experience,
once people learned exactly what she was, they turned tail and ran in
the opposite direction.
    Her hand closed around the chip and she carefully scanned
it, taking a gulp of the brew and lowering her eyes so no one knew she’d given
in to her interest already.
    “I’ll get this back to you—”
    Cample waved her away. “Got plenty more where that came
from. But…” He patted the syntha-wood bar. “You could always drop it off after
hours.”
    This time she surrendered to the burble of laughter that
rose in her throat. “One of these days, you’re going to do that to the wrong
woman, and she might just take you up on it.” She grabbed the cup, downed the
rest of the bitter ale, and slammed it down on the wood. “Good brew! Thanks.”
    Then she turned and left the bar.
     
    For the next twenty-four hours, she’d hunted for information
on the Golden Echo . At thirty years old, the ship should have looked
dated, the outer skin pitted and marked. Instead, it had been cleaner than
expected, well cared for, and the exterior in pristine condition.
    As for its owner? Captain Sandon Daria was an enigma. He’d
been running cargo for the last five years in this sector, and she’d found no
listed infractions or fines. Before that, he’d been running the Sigma route,
working with well-known and reputable companies. Again, his record was squeaky
clean. His cargo registration was paid on time, and it seemed he was rarely
without cargo.
    Levia tapped her fingertip against pursed lips, thinking
back over how she’d heard of his need. Once she’d made contact with Secombe,
via text-tran, he’d extended the invitation to meet with himself and the captain.
She’d gone in with high hopes. Hopes that had nearly been dashed by the
enigmatic captain who didn’t want a female pilot.
    “I should be thankful for the opportunity to even have a
trial, I guess.” Shooting through the darkness, she was able to embrace her
real self. The Levia she kept hidden, obscured by the glowing green implants
and syntha-derm. Her fingers shook on the throttle. “At least now I have a
chance to be someone real, not just…” An assassin.
    The nerves that had plagued her since the aborted mission to
Omega V rose; her pulse drummed and a droplet of sweat made its way down her
back.
    “I survived. I’m stronger, fitter, and more capable.” The
words helped to keep her emotions level. “I have nothing and no one to fear.
I’m building a life of my own choosing, one day at a time.” The fear subsided
beneath the layers of carefully built affirmations.
    With a shock, she realized alarms were blaring. She dragged
herself back to the matter at hand.
    “Vessel Gamma-Vega-Gamma-Alpha-Zeta, confirm your trajectory
immediately.”
    Her mind carefully, yet almost instantaneously, calculated
the most efficient route to the surface. “Air traffic control, Kalistera ,
this is the vessel Gamma-Vega-Gamma-Alpha-Zeta seeking re-entry on route
Zero-Alpha-Five. Requesting bay allocation at location Nine-Theta-Gama-Phi.”
    Static filled the tiny cockpit as she moved her craft into a
holding pattern, waiting for the confirmation. “Vessel
Gamma-Vega-Gamma-Alpha-Zeta, you are cleared for entry, and your allocation of
bay will be confirmed once re-entry is complete.”
    A whispered sigh of thankfulness filled the air as she laid
her hands over the console.
    * * *