R I S K – Jennette & Makam Part 2
“Does it matter why?” Makam cranked the glowgas heater as high as it would go.
I leaned against the edge of the tiny porthole that looked out over Glide’s busiest street. Layers of gleaming speeders, rusty delivery hovers, and yellow flyboards wove and twisted in an unending stream. I cut him a glance. “It matters.”
He sank into the corner chair of the room we’d rented, his eyes glittering out of the shadows. He still wore his black flight suit and a weapons belt holding at least two kinds of pistols. I made a bet to myself about whether he’d ever remove them in my presence.
“Tell me your real name, and I’ll tell you why I rescued you.”
“Rescued? It was more of—“
“Rescued,” he snapped. “The Endmen were two minutes out when I told you they were coming. What ship were you going to fly away on, exactly?”
I glared out the window, crossing my arms against the chill that seeped through the glass. “You can sleep first,” I said, without looking at him or the bed behind me.
He snorted. “You’ll never admit you owe me, will you?”
“Absolutely not. There’s obviously something in this for you, anyway. You put too much on the line.”
His silence brooded for so long I turned to find him watching me, elbows on his knees. “You’re right.”
I cocked my head, waiting, but he just leaned back and braced his hands on the back of his head. The heater was finally warming the room, and its sweet scent tickled my nose. Makam’s smile was wide enough to make me shift uncomfortably.
“There’s something in this for me. But you’ll never know what.”
