It brought a smile to her lips, but she wondered what Soukup would make of it. Call it a “cult of personality” and use it as grounds to dismiss her? Consider it fraternization with menials? Or accuse her of blurring the lines between social classes?

Screw it. The IG could enjoy his day on Freelander. She’d slipped out of Corporate Mine early, left orders for Makarov to take the IG up in the A-7. She’d assigned the task of tour guide to Fenn Bogarten—who knew as much as anyone about the haunted wreck. Fenn could accompany the IG on his investigation. By now they’d be most of the way to Freelander, with Fenn wondering what he’d ever done to deserve being sent back to one place in the universe he hated more than anywhere.

On the other hand, it was nice to think of Soukup—and especially his Four—walking the eerie black corridors, feeling the hair rise on the backs of their necks, and recording the “dome of bones” in the Crew Mess. When those recordings were finally replayed for the Board, Kalico hoped it would creep-freak them with a real feeling for walking those haunted hallways.

Maybe, Soukup—being who and what he was—would order the door of the AC to be cut open, answering the question whether Tamarlind Benteen was alive or dead.

She rounded the corner onto the main avenue. In the middle of the street, hanging from a forklift, a quetzal swung slowly in the morning light. Rude Marsdome carefully skinned the hide from the beast. Ripples of iridescent red, yellow, blue, green, and violet rolled across the folds of loose hide lying on the avenue surface, the insides rosy with splotches of the creature’s caked blood. Bullet wounds could be seen in the pink flesh on the naked carcass. People with long knives were waiting for the last of the hide to be cut loose. Then they’d tackle the task of butchering.

Allison Chomko stood at the door of The Jewel, arms crossed, wearing a much-too-slinky red gown for this time of the morning.

“You look dressed to kill,” Kalico observed. Then she got a look at the woman’s face: drawn, tired.

“Just got back from the Admin dome. Been up all night with Shig and Yvette coordinating the hunt. Vik and Kalen are still on the line, but they’re down to the last hiding places. Drones are up, so it’s pretty much over.”

“Heard we lost four.” Kalico indicated the hanging quetzal as Marsdome cut the last of the connective tissue free and the heavy hide collapsed into a pile.

“One was right there. One of that Taglioni woman’s slaves. The blond boy toy. Happened right in front of the woman. Shocked her so bad she passed out. Fainted like in those old movies. Thought Taglionis were made of tougher stuff.”