“Might be best to start with a garter pistol, single charge crystal, stun only.”
Ari curled his fingers around it tentatively, finding the small weapon to be a surprisingly comfortable fit in his hand. “If I keep this in my garter, how will I retrieve it in the event of danger?”
Orin fumbled the surge launcher he’d been considering, and Jeb rushed to catch it with a muttered curse before carefully replacing it in the crate with a dark glare at Orin.
Orin whipped around to gape at Ari, hair falling in his face. “You”—a slow smile curled over his lips as his voice dropped low—”wearing garters, Red?”—and settled somewhere in Ari’s gut. Ari blushed violently, staring down at the pistol.
“Well. Yes, I. Of course, I have the appropriate. This really isn’t. I ought not discuss such things in mixed company.”
He could have sworn that a tea kettle had come to a boil behind him, but it was only Sally squealing.
She bustled around Ari to sock Jeb in the arm. “I told you they were! Now, pay up!”
Jeb clucked his tongue as he locked up the crate after securing his remaining weaponry.
“Naw, see, Stone didn’t know that little tidbit, which, if anything, proves they aren’t. You pay up.”
Sally drew her hand back for what was sure to be another sock on the arm when she was interrupted by Orin wrapping his arms around her to lift her from the ground in a massive bear hug. She patted him on the face as he set her back down on her feet, and he snagged her hand to plant a noisy kiss on her knuckles.
“Thanks for everything, Sal. I sure do appreciate all you done for us.”
He picked up the crate, muscles straining in a way that even Ari could not ignore, and carried it out to the wagon below, the rest of them following in a ramshackle parade.
Dusting off his hands, Orin held one out to Jeb for a firm shake, both men nodding in synchronization.
Jeb offered Ari his hand next. “You be careful out there, Doc. Keep this one in line.”
Ari quietly agreed, jumping as a small pair of arms wrapped around him tightly. Sally pulled back to pinch both sides of his cheeks, just this side of painfully.
“I could just eat you up with a spoon, hon; you’re that cute!”
Ari stepped back as soon as he was released, offering a courtly bow.
“I am delighted to have made your acquaintance, Miss Mudd. Thank you for your assistance.”
Sally slapped Jeb on the chest with another squeal. As Orin turned with a wave and wandered up the ramp, Sally pointed at his back, then at Ari, then at her own stony face before hopping on the wagon with a cheery wave.
Ari hurried into the ship’s cabin. He picked up his garter pistol, turning it to examine the pearl handle as the ramp retracted and the bay doors closed.
Orin stepped out of the cockpit to snatch the weapon from Ari’s hands and held it over his head as though Ari might make a grab for it. As if Dr. Aristotle Campbell would ever do something so ridiculously immature, especially when it was clear he could not succeed.
Orin tucked the weapon into his trouser pocket with raised brows. “Not letting you get ahold of this ’til we got time for lessons.”
Ari nodded warily as Orin’s small smile spread into a dimple-flashing grin, the pilot leaning one broad shoulder against the open doorway while raking over Ari’s new outfit.
Orin brushed his thumb over his bottom lip, eyes flashing at Ari through thick lashes. “I’d keep this in my garter, but I really think it’d be prettier on you, don’t you sweetheart?”
He turned and disappeared into the cockpit before Ari could think of a reply.
Chapter Eight
Orin twisted away from the controls as Ari settled into the copilot’s chair.
“You seen Sally’s list?” the pilot asked.
Ari watched as Orin pulled it up on the view screen and flicked it over to Ari’s side.
Orin’s side of the screen was occupied by rapidly changing numbers and complicated navigational equations as the pilot’s fingers flew over the projections. He worked faster than Ari could follow.
Ari narrowed his eyes curiously. “Are you performing those calculations in your head?”
Fingers never pausing, Orin shrugged one shoulder. “Sure. Gotta recalculate our flight plan so we can make a perimeter sweep of the Verge, hit all these ratholes to see if we can hear the right song to lead us to your brother. It’s a hell of a lot better plan than falling ass over tea kettle into the deep dark and flying blind in the hopes we might just trip over him.”
Ari studied the list of names and locations. “Have these been rearranged?”
Orin nodded distractedly, biting his lip in concentration as he flung numbers in every direction. “Yup. Figured I’d line ’em up for us; easier to make one continuous loop than to double back every time we wanna try a new singer. Now I just gotta finish calculating our most efficient route, don’t wanna waste fuel if we can help it. And, there she goes!”
He flung up his hands like a dramatic pianist finishing a complicated piece of music, tossing his hair back and dazzling in Ari’s direction.
“Got our first stop pinned down. You ready to head out?”
Ari fastened his harness as Orin drew both pistols from his belt and pocket and secured them under the dash before fastening his own harness.
He sent a broad smirk Ari’s way, hands poised over the controls.
“Hold on to those garters, we’re gonna give Jeb And Sal a little show. It’s high time me and Delilah really got to know each other.”
Ari opened his mouth to ask the obvious question but didn’t get a chance as his head was pushed against the headrest when the ship disengaged from the dock and immediately lifted at an unconventional speed, swooping over the dock in an elegant arc.
Orin let out a whoop, hands flying over the controls. “There we go, Delilah. Never say I couldn’t show a girl a good time!”
Aristotle turned his head, fighting against the gravitational forces to face the beaming pilot. “Is Delilah the ship?”
Orin offered a pleased smile. “There you go, professor, using those brains!”
Ari adjusted back against the headrest, swiveling his chair to observe Orin caress the controls, the pilot’s hands finally slowing down.
“What brought you to decide upon the name Delilah?”
Orin’s face reflected off the view screen, twice as bright as the projections flying across. “Pretty name for a pretty lady, Red. And I always like to dance with the pretty ladies!”
With no more warning than a mischievous glance in Ari’s direction, Orin slid them into a complicated rolling maneuver that seemed to achieve little more than rearranging Aristotle’s stomach contents.
Righting the vessel, Orin patted the dash fondly. “See, Delilah knows all the steps! She and I are gonna tear it up out there.”
Ari closed his eyes, relieved at the return to their previously smooth takeoff maneuvers, the creak of Orin’s chair as he leaned back indicating they had exited atmosphere and autopilot had been engaged.
When he opened his eyes, Orin was checking the controls, surveying the dash almost reverently.
Ari cleared his throat, fiddling with his harness as he gathered his courage.
“Mr. Stone. I mean, Orin.”