“The duke is willing to match what you’re charging as the reward.”

“Match, hell. If he wants my cooperation, it starts at two million marks per person.”

“That doesn’t strike you as perhaps a lot to ask?”

“The duke screwed me out of sixty million marks at least, so, no, in fact, it doesn’t strike me as a lot to ask.”

“One million marks per person.”

“Look at you, Ghreni, acting like I actually need something from you.”

“The duke could decide to make your departure difficult.”

“Is he going to have my captain arrested, like he did with the Tell Me Another One?”

“You heard about that.”

“Space is a small town. We’ve already received our clearances, Ghreni. Our departure’s already been approved. And the duke already has his hands full with not being deposed and probably killed.”

“One and a half million marks per person.”

“Two and a half million marks, and every time you try to negotiate the price from here on out, the price goes up.”

“The duke is not made of money.”

“Maybe he can just borrow some out of the money of mine he’s appropriated, the son of a bitch.”

“That’s actually not a bad idea.”

“Fuck you. Now it’s up to three million marks just because you’re pissing me off.”

Ghreni held up his hands, placatingly. “Kiva. Stop. We have a deal.”

“Three million per.”

“Yes.”

“You’ll put ten million in escrow right now so I know you won’t fuck me.”

“I’ll do it the minute I get back on Imperial Station.”

“Who are you looking for?”

“The Count of Claremont and either of his children.”

“Kids?”

“The children? No. They’re both about thirty, standard. Twins. One male and one female.”

“Why do you want them?”

“I’ll tell you for three million marks.”

“Don’t be an asshole.”

“It’s not important. What is important is that we know if any of them try to leave the planet.”

“If they try to contact us, then what?”

“Then you contact me, and we’ll come in and collect them from Imperial Station, just before they try to board the Yes, Sir.”

“So you’ll take care of all of it.”

“Yes.”

“You going to shove them down a well or something?”

“I don’t think you need to worry about that.”

“I may be an asshole, Ghreni, but I don’t want to be an active accomplice to murder.”

“We have no plans to murder anyone. We just don’t want them to go.”

“Anyone else? I mean, as long as you’re offering three million per.”

“No. But I admire the flexibility of your moral grounding.”

“You said it yourself. Who are we if we’re not making money?”

As Ghreni left the Yes, Sir, Kiva pinged Gazson Magnut. “I need you to do something for me.”