“Checking on your investment. All sealed and safe, don’t worry. Looks like the pod locks glitched.” I looked at the crew-woman with the blaster.

“Or maybe that extra smart ripwing showed up after all and we scared it off. Look, this is a bit of a long shot I know, but is there a sniffer set anywhere aboard?”

“Sniffer set? Like, for the police you mean?” She shook her head. “I don’t think so. You could ask the skipper.”

I nodded. “Yeah well, like I said—”

“I asked you a question.”

The tension in the entrepreneur’s features had made it all the way to anger. At his side, his security glared supportively.

“Yeah, and I answered it. Now, if you’ll excuse me—”

“You’re not going anywhere. Tomas.”

I cut the bodyguard a glance before he could act on the command.

He froze and shifted his feet. I shifted my eyes to the entrepreneur, fighting a strong urge to push the confrontation as far as it would go.

Since my run-in with the priest’s wife, I’d been twitchy with the need to do violence.

“If your tuskhead here touches me, he’s going to need surgery. And if you don’t get out of my way, so will you. I already told you, your cargo’s safe. Now suppose you step aside and save us both an embarrassing scene.”

He looked back at Tomas, and evidently read something instructive in his expression. He moved.

“Thank you.” I pushed my way through the gathered crew members behind her. “Anybody seen Japaridze?”

“On the bridge, probably,” said someone. “But Itsuko’s right, there’s no sniffer gear on the ‘duct. We’re not fucking seacops.”

Laughter. Someone sang the signature tune to the experia show of the same name, and the rest took it up for a couple of bars. I smiled thinly and shouldered my way past. As I left, I heard the entrepreneur demanding loudly that the hatch be opened again immediately.

Oh well.

I went to find Japaridze anyway. If nothing else, at least he could provide me with a drink.

The squall passed.

I sat on the bridge and watched it fade away eastward on the weather scanners, wishing the knot inside me would do the same. Outside, the sky brightened and the waves stopped knocking the Haiduci’s Daughter about.

Japaridze slacked off the emergency drive to the grav motors and the freighter settled back into her former stability.

“So tell me the truth, sam.” He poured me another shot of Millsport blended and settled back in the chair across the navigation table. There was no one else on the bridge. “You’re casing the webjelly consignment, right?”

I lifted an eyebrow. “Well, if I am, that’s a pretty unhealthy question to ask me.”