Page 59 of Hooded

Beebie squirms in my arms, leaps onto the console, and fires up the comm line.

“Beebs!” I exclaim as the thing springs to life and Markus’s face appears on the screen.

“Fern?” He stares at me as if he’s seen a ghost.

“Markus,” I say through gritted teeth.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he says.

“I doubt it,” I respond. “I was taken prisoner by the Tormelek after they attacked my ship, but then you know that, don’t you?” I raise my eyebrows at him, suddenly acutely aware of my pregnant status, on screen for everyone to see.

“I did not,” Markus blusters. “Our clients were adamant I track you down.”

“You didn’t do a good job.”

“Well.” He looks shifty. “That was until the DNA came back from the mark, and it turned out not to be the Denaver.”

“No, it was a Gryn.” I sigh. “My tech was damaged on Trefa. I picked up the wrong male.”

“I did try to find you, Fern, I really did. You’re a good hunter. You’ve done better than most of my other hunters combined,” Markus says, eyeing my pregnancy bump with a confused look on his face.

“I have another mark,” I say, not entirely sure what to make of the weird compliment from a Habosu who would sell his own grandmother if he thought it would get him what he wanted. “I’m doing this one for myself and I need to use your systems.”

“Is it the Gryn?”

“No.”

“Good, Gryn are bad news. The word is an ancient species called Proto is looking for them, rounding up any single ones it can find. They’re using the Varangy.”—he leans to one side and spits at the name—“to get what they want.”

“I want the Varangy.”

Markus swears under his breath.

“You owe me, if you mean what you said. Even if you didn’t know about the Tormelek”—I narrow my eyes—“There’s no way we were simply unlucky enough to happen upon them.”

This has been a thought swirling in my head ever since Klynn mentioned we should maintain a low profile on Fenes, the backwater of all backwaters. He didn’t trust anyone and neither should I.

But not trusting Markus on this occasion could mean I don’t get any closer to the Varangy who have taken Klynn.

“I can give you access,” he says. “I wouldn’t deny you, Fern. But you have to know, there’s a price on your head.”

“Mine? Why? Because of the client?”

Markus nods. “When they didn’t get their mark…they decided you’d deliberately let it go and you were in league with it somehow. The DNA evidence didn’t sway them.”

“Fucking great,” I murmur. “How long have I got?”

“No one from my agency will come after you, but the others…” He sighs. “They’ll probably pick up your engine signature in a couple of nova-days.”

“That’s all I need,” I say with a confidence I absolutely don’t feel.

“You have access.” Markus presses a few areas on his console, and lights on mine light up. “Tell me, Fern. Do humans normally swell in different atmospheres?”

“Swell?”

He gazes at my bump.

“Markus, I’m pregnant. I’m with young.” I glare at him.

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