Tempted by Celestial Bodies

Chapter 1

chapter one

ariel

He’s going to run. I just know it.

I wiped the counter for the third time and scrubbed at a stain that hadn’t budged in three years. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched my solitary dine-in customer take another sip of coffee in an almost reverent way. That might have flattered me if I didn’t know my coffee could double as an engine de-greaser and multi-purpose solvent.

Those deliberate sips—and the way he watched me when he didn’t think I noticed—had tipped me off that he intended to skip out without paying, even before he’d lingered over his food for nearly an hour. And he’d savored every bite like I’d plopped a Bacorian feast in front of him rather than about three kilograms of standard outpost fare seasoned with whatever Kitbot felt like throwing in with the synthetic meat and vegetables today. I never asked exactly what ingredients that robot used as long as he didn’t kill any customers. Bad for business.

Plus body disposal here on Outpost 406 was a real pain in the ass. I’d established the Last Chance Diner on Deck 4, about midway along the starboard docking platform where smaller ships came into port for maintenance. The crews liked to stretch their legs, so this was a perfect location for customers to find me, but I couldn’t just throw a corpse out an airlock and risk it floating past the outpost’s windows and nearby docked spaceships—not to mention outpost security would catch it all on camera. Too many awkward questions. The very last thing any business owner out here on the galactic frontier wanted was too many questions, or worst of all, a visit from the Licensing Baron.

I could drag Mr. Mysterious’s corpse to the incinerator, but I’d have to do it in pieces because the guy was huge. Even then I’d risk one of the Pallasians who operated the incineration facility finding the guy’s legs or something and then I’d have to pay them off to keep them quiet.

Now I was grumpy about having to get rid of his body and he hadn’t even tried to make a run for it yet.

You’re over-selling it , I wanted to tell Mr. Mysterious. The key to sneaking out on a bill is to act like a regular customer. Not take an hour to eat while stalling for time, you gorgeous moron.

And gorgeous he was, even by human standards, though I figured him for—at minimum—a thief. Well over two meters tall, with broad shoulders, crimson skin, and short horns that curled back from his hairline. He’d strung beads and what looked like pieces of bone throughout his long black hair, which hung loose down his back nearly to his knees.

Scars crisscrossed his hands and face, which were the only other parts of his body I could see since he hadn’t taken off his long black coat. Another sign of a plan to run. Most customers removed their coats if they stayed to eat. I didn’t keep my place cold. Many species of travelers who passed through this outpost came from hot planets. Takeout made up most of my business, but even so, my tips went up when the temp was up too. Nobody felt generous if their genitals shriveled from the cold.

When Mr. Mysterious reached for a napkin, his sleeve pulled back to reveal a significant scar on his forearm. So maybe not just a thief, then, I mused, as I tossed my rag on the counter and made a show of checking on my prize Bacorian-made coffeemaker. That kind of wound only came from combat. He had the physique of a gladiator, but no ring around his neck bearing the name of his owner.

My eyes narrowed. He was probably a mercenary. I’d checked the docking logs when he sat down and seen his ship and its registration. It looked like it had a lot of light-years on it, so he was probably a deep-space raider—the kind who killed without mercy for money or stolen goods. I would definitely not let him walk out without paying. He owed me for his food, water, and air, and for dirtying my diner with his presence.

I tapped my foot three times to activate the sensor that bolted the airlock door. Then I made a trip to the kitchen, where Kitbot had docked himself in his charging station awaiting the next order. I checked the charge on my pulse gun, in case Mr. Mysterious decided to fight or beat the location of the door-lock switch out of me. He wouldn’t be the first to try.

Lots of beings who passed through thought this part of the galaxy was lawless and they could do as they pleased. They were wrong. There might not be much official law enforcement out here, but that meant we were each tasked with upholding the law. That included preventing and punishing theft, especially in places where resources were tough to come by.

Come to think of it, putting Mr. Mysterious in a stasis pod on display out front might actually be a good deterrent against future attempts. A neat solution to my problem of what to do with him if he didn’t hand over my money. No body to get rid of. No muss, no fuss.

From the dining area, a bellow rolled through the whole diner, rattling my plates and cups on their shelves. I’d never heard the man make a sound beyond a grunt of greeting and another of thanks when I brought his food, but I recognized his voice all the same.

I grinned.

I might not be the first diner owner he’d tried to skip out on without paying, but I was damn sure going to be the last.