“Pizza and beer,” Juliet sighed, sitting back and patting her distended stomach. “Can’t go wrong.”

Aya laughed and held up her bottle of “Barger’s Pale Ale,” offering her a silent salute before she downed it. Juliet had already drunk two of the beers—not the best she’d ever had, but who was she to be fussy? She’d thought about drinking a third but decided she should have her wits about her if something went wrong with the ship. “How much travel time is left?” Aya asked, chasing her words with a burp.

“Um,” Juliet looked at the display Angel had provided on her AUI, “five hours and twenty-seven minutes. Unless something goes wrong, I guess.”

“Sheesh!” Aya squealed, reaching out and gently tapping her knuckles against Juliet’s head. “Don’t jinx us!”

“Right,” Juliet sighed. “Hey, by the way, how’d you know my skull was wooden?”

“What?” Aya’s eyes widened, but when she saw Juliet’s grin, she shook her head and said, “Well, it wouldn’t surprise me these days. People getting the craziest damn mods. I saw a lady with an arm that looked like a frickin’ snake back on Luna!”

“Uh . . . creepy!”

“Yep.”

“Hey, so, real talk, Aya; did they send you with me so I wouldn’t take off with this ship?” Juliet wasn’t stupid. She knew Aya was Shiro’s cousin, and she also knew she didn’t really need her help to fly from Dione to Titan, but maybe Shiro didn’t know that. She wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, to believe he trusted her after all she’d done, but she couldn’t help thinking he and Alice were worried about what she might do with the Bumble if they didn’t have someone along for the ride.

“Um,” Aya flushed, her rather pale skin blatantly showing the red in her cheeks. She looked down, but the corner of her mouth quirked up in a grin, and she said, “Hey, you can’t blame him. This ship will probably sell for close to a million bits.”

“Well, if they don’t trust me, what does that say about you? I mean, what if I shot you and threw you out the airlock? Doesn’t Shiro care about his cousin?” Juliet’s tongue was definitely loosened by the beer, and when she heard herself, she tried to soften the words with a smile and added, “I’m not going to do that, but you get the idea, right?”

“I guess it says he doesn’t really distrust you, but he also doesn’t want to look like a gullible dummy.” Aya shrugged and reached for another beer.

“Fair enough.” Juliet stood up and stretched, arching her back until she felt a pop just above her butt—the bench wasn’t great for lumbar support. “Ah, that’s the spot.” She gestured toward the cockpit and said, “Think I’ll go sit up there in the acceleration couch. If you’re tired, you can crash. I might doze off, too.”

“Yeah, I’m wrecked. What a day! At least I’m not bagging bodies back on the Kowashi like Bennet.”

“Ugh, he’s going through the gunship?”

“Yep, so thanks for getting me outta that, at least. Shiro threw a fit about all the fluids leaking all over the bay and said he better get the bodies bagged up before we had a biohazard situation.”

“Oh, gross! Were there body fluids leaking through the ship?”

“No, no. He was, like, speaking in ‘what-if’ terms.”

“Right, right,” Juliet nodded, then turned and started toward the cockpit. “Don’t forget a clean rag to wipe down your seat.”

Once they were both settled in the cockpit, the constant hum of the reactor and drives was hard to resist, and Juliet felt her eyes getting heavy. She glanced over her shoulder at Aya, saw she was fast asleep, and subvocalized, “Angel, wake me up if anything happens. Also, don’t forget to check for Voronov's messages when you connect to the Titan sat-net.”

“If we don’t have one waiting, should I reach out?”

“Yes, tell him we’re . . . near Titan and ask if he has any information.”

“Understood. Sleep well.”

“Thank you,” Juliet mumbled, her eyes already closed. The gel in the acceleration couch was so welcoming, the gentle rumble of the ship so hypnotizing, and Juliet was so dog-tired that she almost immediately fell asleep. When Angel woke her, weird flashes of her dreams hung around in her mind—something about being taken by an uncle to play racquetball with Shiro when they were kids. “Oh, nuclear,” she groaned, realizing she’d probably been “seeing” Aya’s dream.

“Is anything wrong?” Angel asked, “I woke you because we’re on our final approach to Titan, and the Port Authority has assigned us a temporary docking license and a berth not far from the Kowashi’s.”

“Did you arrange that?” Juliet asked, shaking her head, trying to wake up and remember she wasn’t a twelve-year-old Aya.

“No, Alice handled all of that. She sent me the information just moments ago.”

Juliet nodded and looked at Aya, still asleep in her couch. Her face was peaceful; her little button nose, with a smudge of grease on the bridge that extended onto one cheek, was endearing. Juliet liked how her hair was short with straight bangs halfway down her forehead and . . . Juliet shook her head, sighing heavily. She felt much closer to the salvage tech all of a sudden. No doubt, it was thanks to her dream, and she wondered how healthy that was—something to bring up with Dr. Ming.

“How hot did my lattice get while I was asleep?”

“Slightly elevated, but nothing alarming. I didn’t think I needed to wake you, but I monitored it closely if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“No. No, I’m not upset or anything, but I had a weird dream, and I was wondering how much of a strain it was for the lattice, that’s all.”

“Did you have a true-dream? Did you see the future?”

“No. The opposite. I was either seeing Aya’s dream or one of her memories,” Juliet subvocalized, then, to change the subject, “Did you hear anything from Voronov?”

“Yes! There was a message waiting for you.”

“Do I have time to listen while you land?”

“Yes, but I thought you’d want to see the procedure for landing. I’ll walk you through each of the adjustments I make.” Angel’s tone indicated this was the right decision; she was always keen to help Juliet learn something.

“Right. As soon as we touch down, then.” And there began a very detailed, hands-on training session about paying attention to flight path instructions from the spaceport and making adjustments to accommodate traffic or whatever timing the authorities had in mind for their exact landing. Juliet paid close attention to everything Angel told her about the throttle and attitude adjustments, but she also had a hard time keeping her eyes off the viewscreens. New Atlas, the main settlement on Titan, differed significantly from Luna City.

For starters, it looked bleak in comparison. Instead of white and silver buildings elegantly carved from plasteel, she saw huge, blocky industrial facilities, especially around the spaceport and shipyard, as they made their approach. Hangars for ships that had to be kilometers long and hundreds of meters high lined the moon’s craggy surface, and Juliet could see mazes of concrete and plasteel tunnels leading away toward the enormous dome of New Atlas.

Bright lights lined the immense industrial structures, though, for some reason, they were primarily amber or green and cast a kind of sickly fluorescent glow on the buildings and the myriad ships within and atop them. Beyond the spaceport, inside the dome, New Atlas was a grim, darker version of Luna City. Juliet figured the dome must be in the midst of a nighttime cycle because the prominent, square skyscrapers loomed darkly with hazy, illuminated windows visible in the gloomy atmosphere. She supposed it was also possible the dome was tinted, lending to that Gothamesque appearance.

Angel guided the Bumble into one of those gigantic rectangular hangars, and that really drove home how large it was—the ship didn’t come anywhere near touching one of the walls of the massive opening, and, in Juliet’s estimation, it wouldn’t have mattered if the Bumble were a hundred times bigger.

She watched and listened as Angel carefully guided them toward one of the big industrial docking collars. Dozens of other ships were lined up in the hangar, some looked as big as the Kowashi or maybe larger, but others were clearly single-seaters—couriers or fighters. Workers in bright yellow EVA suits or operating rigs not unlike those in the Kowashi populated the scaffolds around the ships, performing maintenance or unloading cargo, hooking it to enormous cranes that lifted it toward gigantic airlocks and freight elevators.

As Angel expertly connected the Bumble to the docking collar, the Port Authority operator said, in Juliet’s comms, “Lovely job, pilot. Softest touch I’ve seen in a month.”

“Thank you,” Juliet said, grinning. Then she subvocalized, “Angel, how many PAIs could pilot a ship like you?”

“None that I’m aware of. Piloting a ship like this would require licensing and a specialized co-processor, at least. Most people would hire a synth with a pilot’s license before trying to upgrade a PAI to handle these functions.”

“Well, you impressed that guy. Nice work!”

“Thank you,” Angel replied, and Juliet thought she heard some pride in her voice. As far as she was concerned, it was warranted; Angel was amazing, and if it weren’t for her many, very special skills, Juliet would be living a much different life.

Aya hadn’t yet woken, and Juliet didn’t feel like rushing; Alice would probably be in contact as soon as the Kowashi docked. She stayed in her seat and said quietly, “Play me the message now.”

“It’s audio only. Beginning playback,” Angel replied. Juliet saw an audio file on her AUI, and, as the little equalizer display started to bounce around, she heard Peter Voronov’s voice, “Lucky. I promised I’d find what I could about Levkin’s operations on Titan. You have no idea how difficult it is for me to accomplish anything. My funds are dwindling. I’m being observed constantly. Nevertheless, I have friends—allies who may not be brave enough to aid me openly but are willing to reach out for information and share it with me.

“One such ally is in New Atlas, and she has come through in a big way. She hired a private investigator, another operator like you. He claims to have a lead on some new activity at one of Levkin’s sites on Titan. I’m attaching his credentials and contact information. Do with it what you will. I hope you have success, and if I manage to learn anything more, I’ll be in touch.”

The audio file stopped playing, and Juliet pursed her lips, literally scratching her head, not sure how to take the news. She was glad to have some information, a lead to go on, but she didn’t know if she could trust some random operator or the person who had hired him. After a moment’s consideration, she subvocalized, “Well, I guess we can set up a meeting, and I can try to listen to his thoughts. If he’s double-crossing me, I should be able to sniff it out. As long as we don’t do it somewhere too public where I’ll get overwhelmed by other people’s thoughts.”

“I also was going to suggest you put the lattice to use. Not to change the subject before you’re ready, but a Port Authority official is waiting at the airlock.”

“Shit,” Juliet said, sliding out of her couch. She jostled Aya’s leg and said, “Aya, we’re here,” then she subvocalized, “Get Alice on comms, please.”

While Aya yawned sleepily and stretched, Alice spoke in Juliet’s ear, “What’s up, Lucky?”

“Uh, Port Authority’s at the docking collar. We in trouble with regard to this ship or the bodies I have in the airlock?”

“No, it’s standard protocol. They’ll take the bodies, give the ship a quick sweep, and confirm the USIN with the SSFRC.”

“Right, okay,” Juliet said, moving through the ship and quickly turning toward the port side where she’d locked up Engineer. On the way, she subvocalized, “What’s a USIN?”

“Universal Ship Identification Number.”

“Ah. Makes sense.” As the door to the crew quarters opened, she said, “Engineer, can you power off and try to look decommissioned?”

“What’s that, captain?”

“The ship’s about to be inspected, and I don’t want you to get taken off to be made into scrap for real.”

“Understood. I shall endeavor to look like junk.” With that, Engineer collapsed to the floor in a heap, and his LED eyes turned off.

“That was easier than I anticipated,” Juliet chuckled, turning to go to the airlock.

“He’s clearly not hampered by commercial behavioral restraints. That means he could, indeed, be dangerous, though, so I’ll keep an eye on the camera in the mess to ensure he stays put.”

“There’s a camera in the mess?” Juliet touched the airlock button, opening the inside door.

“Yes, the only one on the interior. It was off, but I found and enabled it while we were in transit.”

“Huh,” Juliet frowned. She liked that Angel was her own “person” and did things without prompting, but she felt like a camera she’d enabled was something she should have mentioned. As she punched the “equalize atmosphere” sequence on the external door and waited as the vents hissed and tried to match the pressure of the spaceport, she shook her head and almost laughed at herself. Why was she worried about a dumb camera and how quickly Angel had mentioned it? She’d told her about it just now, hadn’t she?

The red lights faded, and a green LED appeared on the panel. The doors clicked, and Juliet cycled them open. Two men in form-fitting gray overalls stood in the rather dimly-lit docking tunnel. They each had a nametag over their left breast and a stylized “NA” patch on their arms, which Juliet figured must be the New Atlas civil logo. A long, stretcher-sized rolling cart was in the passage behind them. Juliet nodded to the man standing nearest, an older gentleman with salt and pepper gray hair smoothly combed back from a high brow and friendly, wrinkle-lined brown eyes. “Hello.”

“Welcome to New Atlas. Lucky?”

“That’s right.”

“Your employer, Alice Murakami, contacted us about this ship and the possible bounty on the subjects who attacked you. I see they’re here in the airlock. May I?” He stepped forward as though to pass by her into the airlock but paused, waiting for an answer.

“Yeah, of course.” Juliet backed away and motioned him in.

“Come on, Alex; bring the cart.” He turned to Juliet and said, “I’m Reggie Finkle. I represent the Port Authority and will need to examine these bodies and this ship. I’ve received a statement of events from Mrs. Murakami, but we’ll need you to corroborate the details of your encounter with these people for the record.” He leaned over the pirate Shiro had stacked atop the other two, still encased in his foam-filled EVA suit, and groaned. “Dear me, I wish you’d been able to keep them on ice. Ah, well, it is what it is. Alex, hand me my respirator.”

“Here you go, sir,” Alex said, handing Reggie a compact, black mesh mask.

“You may wish to stand outside, ma’am. I’m sure some unpleasant gases will come out of this suit as I remove the helmet.”

“They’ve only been dead . . .” Juliet paused and thought back to when she’d had the shootout with the pirates. “Well, I guess it’s something like twelve hours now.”

“Yes, yes. Could be worse. Even so.” Juliet nodded and stepped off the ship near the rolling cart. She didn’t want to see the pirates’ faces anyway. She heard Reggie speaking softly to Alex and saw him shifting the corpses around. A few minutes passed, and then Alex stepped out, also wearing a respirator, and pulled the cart into the airlock. While he worked on loading the bodies, Reggie came out and, sighing heavily, pulled off his respirator.

“Any warrants?” Juliet asked.

“Oh, my yes. It seems these three were up to no good for a long while. I’ve got warrants for trafficking illegal goods, assault, larceny, vandalism, disturbing the peace, reckless endangerment with an H-3 powered conveyance, and in one of their cases, murder.”

“No piracy?”

“Well, just because they didn’t get caught doesn’t mean they hadn’t done any piracy.” He frowned and watched as Alex rolled the corpse-laden cart past and into the hallway; Juliet was thankful he’d put the helmets back on. Maybe she’d get away from this encounter, never having seen the faces of her three victims. Reggie nodded as the cart trundled away, then said, “Or maybe they hadn’t, considering it doesn’t seem they were very good at it.”

“Any bounties?”

“Oh indeed. Let’s see here, Francisco Torez had a twenty-thousand bounty, Alysia Rhodes had a twelve-k bounty, but the other, Rexford Arnett, was a nasty fellow—seventy-five k. Well done.”

“Seriously?” Juliet was stunned by the amounts. “We need to do some more bounty hunting,” she subvocalized.

“Yes, ma’am. Would you like me to inspect the ship now, or would you like to give me your statement first?”

“Um, go ahead. I’ll wait here and do the statement when you’re done.”

“Very good,” Reggie said, then he turned and walked through the airlock into the Bumble.

In a sudden fit of paranoia, Juliet subvocalized, “You confirmed these guys’ ID, right?”

“Yes, their credentials seemed authentic; I ran them through the Port Authority’s public database.”

“Okay, good. Connect me to Alice again, please.”

“What’s up?” Alice asked through her comms.

“The Port Authority is here. They just took the bodies, and now they’re inspecting the ship. They want me to make a statement about the pirates. What did you tell them?”

“I told them the pirates tailed us down to our salvage and set up to snipe us, but you interrupted them and killed them in a gunfight. I told them I wasn’t sure who shot first. I’ll leave that up to you.”

“Uh, all right. Thanks.” Juliet cut the connection and then subvocalized, “Angel, what kind of legal trouble can I get in if I tell them I shot first?”

“Very little. The various legal authorities in the Sol system have limited jurisdictions, and the only one with a claim to Dione is the Titan Corporate Consortium and its corpo-sec statutes. Those statutes clearly state that in “unpatrolled locales,” any SOA operator has the right to use force up to and including deadly to remove a threat to their own life or the lives of those under their care.”

“Well,” Juliet sighed. “Good to know, I guess. Kinda like the wild west out here, huh?”

“Out in space? Yes, that comparison is often made by commentators.”

Juliet nodded, frowning, thinking about the kind of work she’d gotten herself into. Realistically, she could probably make a living in any number of fields using Angel’s expertise or even the psionics lattice to get ahead very quickly. Why was she still running around with guns, risking her life? The truth of it was that she liked it. She liked the thrill and the feeling of facing risks and coming out on top. She liked the people she was meeting and the places she was going.

She supposed it wasn’t a big surprise—she’d hated the rut she’d been in before she met Angel. Juliet had always looked for ways to forget her doldrums, if even for just a few minutes. Sure, going fast in a friend’s car she’d helped overtune was a lot different from getting into a shootout, but the idea was the same—doing something risky to prove she could, to feel that thrill and the peace that came afterward. As if trying to convince herself, she subvocalized to Angel, “It’s not like I’m constantly chasing shootouts. I mean, this latest bit is all ‘cause I’m trying to help Honey . . .”

“The ship matches what Mrs. Murakami reported. Are you ready to give your statement?” Reggie asked, interrupting her as he stepped out of the Bumble’s airlock.

“Yep.” Juliet nodded, folding her arms and staring him in the eyes. “It all started when I realized these guys were aiming to jump the Kowashi’s claim, and they weren’t offering to let us hand it over peacefully . . .”