Linesman Read Online Free

back to what he had been.
    â€œWhat’s so amusing?” Michelle had opened her eyes—so very blue—and was watching him.
    Ean met the blue gaze. “Will you on-sell the contract?”
    â€œI don’t know.” Michelle sat up as the bell chimed for landing. “We do need a ten.”
    So was there a job? And was it at the confluence? Ean hoped it was.
    On-screen they could see their destination. A large freighter. Ean didn’t recognize the model—it looked custom-built—but until six months ago, he had only worked on one- and two-man freighters and second-class company ships. Ships like this one in front of him were for the likes of House of Sandhurst or House of Rickenback.
    The name painted three stories high on the side was LANCASTRIAN PRINCESS . The bay door they headed for had an enormous “ 1 ” stenciled on it.
    The door in the freighter ahead irised open to let them in. The shuttle docked. The door closed behind them. This was definitely a private shuttle, and this was its regular docking pad.
    Ean silently followed Michelle out into the ship proper.
    The interior was luxurious. The softly textured walls and carefully placed lighting made the whole thing look like an expensive hotel. Everything was way above Rigel’s standard. Ean couldn’t even begin to calculate the cost of the fittings.
    Even so, the ship had a military feel. It didn’t help that the staff wore gray uniforms piped with black, and that every single one of them walked straight and upright. They all noticed Ean, and he could see that they filed whatever they had noticed for future reference.
    Michelle led the way quickly through the center of theship to a room that looked like an office on one end but housed a comfortable set of three couches at the other.
    One man was in the room. An older man. He looked up as they entered. “Misha. I found you your ten.”
    Misha was an affectionate form of Michelle, used among close friends generally. So this man—who wore the gray-and-black-piped uniform everyone else did—was a close friend.
    â€œI found us a ten, too,” Michelle said. “And I bet he didn’t cost as much as yours did.”
    The uniformed man looked at him, and Ean was suddenly aware that he hadn’t showered for more than two days, that his Rigel-cartel greens were sweaty and crumpled, and that he needed a shave.
    â€œThis is Abram,” Michelle said. “He runs security and pretty much everything else.”
    Abram counted the bars on Ean’s chest. “A genuine ten?”
    â€œI couldn’t kill him.”
    â€œSo you hired him instead?”
    â€œI didn’t hire him,” Michelle said, and her smile showed the full brilliance of the generations of genetic engineering that had made it, plus a dimple that same genetic engineering had probably tried to wipe out. She placed her card on the reader and brought up the contract. “I bought him.”
    Abram read the contract, then nodded slowly. “That would upset Rigel.”
    Ean thought it time to get back some control. He was a ten, after all. “If it’s all right with you.” He had to stop, because his voice came out thin and thready. He cleared his throat, and was glad the second attempt came out more strongly. “I haven’t had time to clean up. I didn’t get a chance to collect any clothes.”
    Abram looked at Michelle, who shrugged. “Rigel will send his things on.”
    Abram switched to Lancastrian. “We don’t all have personal servants who have things packed in five minutes, Misha. His effects are unlikely to arrive before we leave.”
    â€œI’ll replace them then.” Michelle spoke Lancastrian, too. “I’d like that. He has a good figure under those stinking clothes.”
    â€œAnd so like you to know that already.” Abram sighed and switched back to Standard. “I’ll get someone to show you