Space Wrangler by Kate Donovan Read Free Book Online Page A

star-studded nothingness.
    Was that hypocritical? Rick was fine with certain trappings of Earth history like the Trading Post and brothel, but those were different, weren’t they? The former had a utilitarian purpose, since folks—even frontier folks—needed stuff. And men needed women, hence the wise decision to include bio-girls on the platform.
    Just thinking about those pretty women made him want to skip dinner completely, but he dutifully knocked on the penthouse door, hoping at the very least that Alexia would appear in a skimpy black dress like the one she’d worn in that Christmas video.
    But it was TJ—judge, jury and executioner, all wrapped up in a sweater vest—who answered, ushering Rick into a lavishly decorated apartment. Again, the tributes to Earth were everywhere, from framed watercolors of grassy meadows to holographic representations of blue-green waterfalls. Absurd, since the only water on Destry was in percolating bogs, and the only “meadows” were piles of debris left behind when the previous settlers nuked the whole place into rubble, leaving only one intact, functioning memento of their presence.
    The Titans—giant behemoths trudging eternally in circles, unable to be killed thanks to the living metal in their bodies, but also unable to think or to impact their environment.
    If Rick could choose one holograph for the walls of his ship, it would depict those hulking robots. In some ways, they had a lot in common with Rick—throwbacks with no purpose other than to keep going. They had been warriors once, but now were simply shells, constantly on the move but without any real destination.
    Not that the analogy was perfect. Rick had sworn off relationships with other humans, but he had Sensie, didn’t he? And far from being purposeless, he was exploring a wide swath of an alien solar system, soaking up knowledge while honing his skills with bio-metal lariats, blast pistols and thug hunts.
    Returning his attention to TJ’s residence, he looked beyond the old-world furniture to a wall of windows providing a view of the real D-side. Especially now, with the dome lights dimmed, the world was just the way Rick loved it—darkness, stars and adventure.
    â€œWelcome to my humble abode,” TJ was telling him. “Can I take your coat? I’ve sent the servants away, so I’ll be doing the honors myself.”
    Rick hesitated, suspecting he was being put in his place. Alexia had asked him to wear the buckskin, but TJ had asked him to wear something better —code for more formal, more respectful. So the company president was imposing his will a different way.
    Or maybe TJ found Rick’s attire intimidating, or was worried Alexia might find it sexually provocative—
    Unless of course the guy was just trying to be a good host, and Rick was the one with “a rooster in his pants” to use his grandfather’s favorite expression.
    Trying not to laugh at any of the possible scenarios, he handed over his jacket and pistols, saying, “Thanks again for the invite.”
    TJ placed the belongings on a coat rack. “I was glad to hear you want another contract. There’s a paper copy on the table, and the file’s been sent to your computer. Sensie, right?”
    â€œYeah, thanks.” He crossed the room to peruse the six-page document.
    â€œI doubled your usual fee because it’s in Sector Fourteen. That’s not a problem, is it?”
    â€œI’ve always wanted to explore out there,” Rick admitted. After scanning the provisions, he glanced around, trying to appear casual. “Alexia’s not ready yet?”
    â€œSo it seems. Which works for me, since I want to chat privately first.” TJ planted himself in front of a fully-stocked bar. “What did you think of her?”
    â€œAlexia? She’s great. A credit to her family.” Wincing at the banal statement, he decided to be blunt.