The Privateer Read Online Free PDF Page B

tail. I've used up the entire score runnin' for months, now. All I got left is a beat up old ship and my emergency fund.
    "As for what I can do for you . . ." He reached into his shirt pocket and removed a folded piece of velvet. Stretching, he put it on Alcar's desk and opened it. A seven-millimeter sunstone lay revealed. Alcar inhaled. "Well!" he pulled the gleaming stone across the desk, and avarice showed even through the body sculpting as he admired its amazing beauty. Sunstones are the rarest gems in the universe. A seven-millimeter sunstone could buy a small, brand new starship on the few worlds still producing them.
    "This is my emergency fund," John continued. "I've kept it for more than five years. Get me everything I need and it's yours."
    Alcar's eyes narrowed and the smile turned predatory. "So why don't I just take it from you – or your body?"
    John swallowed noisily and produced a weak smile. "Because you don't work that way. I checked you out, sire Alcar. You got a rep for playin' it square with those who play square with you. And what I'm gonna ask for won't cost you a tenth the value of that rock."
    Alcar reluctantly pulled his eyes from the stone and nodded. "Okay. Now we get to what I can do for you."
    John bobbed his head submissively, an obviously fake smile plastered on his face. "Of course, sire Alcar." He took a deep breath. "I'll need a deep-level biosculpt. The whole package. DNA analysis and modification, as well as the usual hair and eye color, height and weight mods. I'll also need all the records of the procedures. The original records. I have to make sure there's nothing for the bounty hunters to find."
    Alcar frowned. "The biosculpt's no problem, of course, though DNA mods can get expensive. But making the records disappear, now that could be a problem."
    John's smile changed, became cynical. "I'm a small-timer, sire Alcar, but I'm not stupid. Biosculpt keeps Marchand on the star maps. It's one of, what, three? four? planets that still has the DNA analysis and modification capability. And you control Marchand, at least the not-so-legal side of it. Making records disappear is probably one of your standard services." He sighed. "Look, sire Alcar. You're already getting everything I have. I have to live aboard my clunker of a ship because I can't afford a hotel. Once I pay my port fees, I'll be running with empty pockets. I can't even try to pick up a small cargo because it might let them track me. I won't be back to Marchand, so the records won't do you any good for blackmail. And the third thing that stone has to buy me is your silence if the hounds track me this far." He firmed up his expression, and sat back. "If you can't help me, just let me know. I'll take my stone and keep running."
    Alcar straightened. "I like you, kid. You've got brains. If you weren't hot, I could use a guy like you in my organization." He smiled, a genuine smile this time. "You got a deal. You'll get the whole package, including the original records. After that, I've never heard of you."
    John put on a desperately grateful expression. "Thank you, sire Alcar. Keep the stone. I know you'll honor your word."
    After giving Alcar his Yor-Tarken name and berth, John allowed himself to be ushered out. He hurried back to the Scorpion .
    "I've made the contact, Tess," he told the ship's AI. "I expect they will want to check me out. We have already cleared customs, so we shouldn't be having any official visitors. If we do, verify their idents, but refuse to let them aboard without my permission. And I haven't ordered any repairs. So any "repairmen" that show up are fakes, no matter how good the signatures look on a work order."
    "Understood, sir," Tess replied.
    Within the hour, "Sire Yor-Tarken" received a vid call "reminding" him of his appointment at the DNA Scanning Center the next day.
    Alcar was as good as his word. Within a week, Scorpion lifted. John was still confined to a float chair as the result of the surgeries