Salvaged Destiny Read Online Free PDF

“Who was the other person she
recommended, or is that confidential?”
    He smiled at her and she tried not to notice how nice he
looked. Liking Lieutenant Casta wasn’t a good idea. Even contemplating helping
him was probably not a good idea. And she always stuck with good ideas. But he
was very nice and Dee Dee was right, he smelled good too. Although in
comparison to tubs of discarded and just-beginning-to-ferment vegetables, just
about anything would smell good.
    “Avo Kirk.”
    “Oh yes. Avo.” Del nodded, not saying she thought bright and
shiny Casta over there should stay away from Kirk and all his kin. They weren’t
especially bad people, just more arrogant than untrustworthy. Avo would talk a
good scenario, head out in the wrong direction, forget to take moisture pullers
and end up stranded somewhere far distant. She had gone out twice in the last
year to rescue the man, although he preferred to call it assistance. In all
fairness she really couldn’t leave the lieutenant to the minimal expertise of
Avo Kirk. Casta’s inevitable injuries and dehydration and lack of success would
be on her conscience.
    “You know him?”
    “Oh yes.”
    “And what do you think of him?”
    “That would be confidential.”
    “I’ll sign a nondisclosure agreement,” he joked with a
wicked grin as she slowed at their next stop. Stop being cute , she
wanted to warn him, but decided to be inscrutable and keep her mouth shut.
    “Time to work. Grab some of those green canisters. We’re
getting used cooking oil here.” She started the exchange with Citizen Beem at
the bakery on the Boulevard and he asked if they could manage to take some
extra containers of old stale baked goods. Del glanced at her transporter’s
bed, looked over her list of stops to go and agreed, making a notation on the
form. There would be just enough room.
    Beem was so pleased to get more discards out of the back of
his shop that he gave her a bag of cookies after she and Casta had loaded the
last of the biologics on the vehicle. He promised that they were made fresh
that very morning but Del didn’t really care. She’d eaten plenty of outdated
food while growing up.
    “What’s that?” The security officer pointed at the paper bag
on the seat between them as they drove away.
    “Cookies. But we don’t eat until we’re done. Our hands are
dirty.”
    “What kind of cookies?”
    She looked over at him, struck by his good-natured interest.
She’d never really thought someone in law enforcement would be so—well, nice. Harata’s
henchmen were universally boorish and rude. They also tended to leer and grab. “I
don’t know. I just thanked Beem. We have to keep moving.”
    “Right.” Lazlo shifted on his seat a little as she turned
down a more open avenue, which meant she had to slow down because there were
more pedestrians and obstacles. Getting out earlier this morning would have
been better, but she had been so tired last night that she’d slept in too late
and now felt as if she would be playing catch-up all day.
    “Can I take a peek?” the big man asked as one of his hands
started to slide across the seat toward her. Toward the bag.
    Del shrugged, trying not to smile and keeping her attention
on the swerving pushcarts, weaving bots, wandering folk and stacked crates
filling the corridor. Narrowly avoiding a slow-moving pedal car with enormous
bundles of rough fabric tied to it, Del shook her head. It would be good to get
back into another service corridor. She heard the bag rattle and glanced over
as he closed it up. He was a big guy and probably hungry all the time.
    “Well?”
    “Pistachio. One of my favorites.”
    “Mine too.” Del smiled with anticipation and glanced over at
Casta to find him smiling. So he liked the same sort of cookies she did. That
didn’t mean anything.
    They slipped into the service alley on the Lower Boulevard
and made many stops. There were a lot of quick counters in this neighborhood
and soon the cart was