Tyro: Alien Adoption Agency #3 Read online

  “How long are they supposed to last if you keep overpaying for everything?” she asked. “That chain had been on his wall for years. You could have gotten a discount of at least twenty percent and he still would have been happy.”

  “But he has a wife and children to support,” Tyro said. “Those poor kids were playing jax cubes on the floor. He needs the money.”

  “Children love playing jax cubes on the floor,” Phoebe retorted. “Besides, did you see his wife’s earrings? They were pure electrum, and she had a matching bangle. He’s doing fine.”

  “Oh,” Tyro said.

  It was true. He hadn’t noticed the jewelry.

  And he supposed she was right about the children. He had fond memories of playing jax cubes under the table himself as a small boy.

  “I’ll tell you what,” Phoebe said, her eyes sparkling. “Let me do the talking at the equipment place.”

  “But you don’t really know what we’re looking for,” he said.

  “A pump impeller,” she said without hesitation. “For luxberry farming.”

  “Okay,” he said, nodding. “Just squeeze my arm if you need me to bail you out, and I’ll take over.”

  “It’s a deal,” she told him.

  They had reached the huge metal building that housed the heavy equipment that was sold and leased on Clotho. Droids sailed in and out, carrying heavy items and assisting customers.

  “May I help you, madam?” one of the smaller droids asked, sailing up to them.

  “No, thank you,” she replied.

  Tyro was surprised, but didn’t say anything. He had agreed to keep quiet.

  When the droid was gone, she turned to him.

  “Take me to where the part should be,” she told him. “But take the scenic route. We need to look at other things first.”

  He nodded and they walked into the entry area.

  There were seedlings in pots and he followed her lead when she examined them carefully.

  Next, they headed deeper into the store and viewed several rows of tarps and coverings.

  Small tools and nuts and bolts were next.

  As she examined them, he understood what she had been doing with the wrenches in the last shop. She was convincing the owner that her interest was in one area, when it was really in another all along.

  Very clever.

  At last, he brought her to the section where parts for the pump could be found, behind a locked glass case.

  “Which one do we need?” she asked. “Do they have it?”

  He nodded at the item in question. It was unimpressive looking. If he hadn’t known what it was, it would have looked like a simple plastic tube with something sticking out of each end.

  In reality, their entire operation would be useless without it.

  “There are two,” he said.

  “Thank God,” she replied under her breath.

  Another droid sailed up to them.

  She immediately fixed her eyes on a different part.

  “May I help you, madam?” it asked.

  “No, thank you, just looking,” she replied.

  It sailed away again, leaving Tyro completely confused.

  “Hello there, friends,” a man said, stepping up behind the counter. “I’ll bet you like good old fashioned customer service better than those pesky droids.”

  Phoebe turned to the man with a radiant smile. “Oh, thank you,” she said. “We’re mostly here to compare prices, but those droids can be so pushy.”

  “Indeed,” the salesman said with a pleased smile. “But I don’t know that you can compare prices. We’re the only equipment shop on Clotho at the moment.”

  “Yes, but I have a sister off-moon,” Phoebe said. “She’s planning a visit and she can bring whatever I need. Isn’t that lucky? But of course I’d rather buy local.”

  “We appreciate that,” he replied, with a slight bow, looking less pleased.

  “Now what can you tell me about this?” she asked, pointing at the sensor she had pretended to view when the droid approached them.

  “Ah, that’s the sensor,” the salesman said. “It’s waterproof, a necessity when it comes to luxberries.”

  “How much?” Phoebe asked.

  “Four hundred eighty credits,” he replied.

  “That seems like a lot,” Phoebe replied, eyes wide.

  “It’s exclusive to luxberry harvesting,” the salesman explained. “That means they don’t produce as many, and therefore it’s more expensive. We really don’t have much of a mark-up on it, like we do other things.”

  “So you can’t give me a special price?” she asked.

  “I’m sorry, my dear,” he told her. “If only you needed another part, I could give you a twenty-five percent discount. But the sensor is very specialized.”

  Tyro’s mouth fell open.

  Phoebe tapped his foot with hers and he shut it again.

  “You could give me a twenty-five percent discount on another part?” she echoed.

  “Sure,” he said, quickly.

  “On any of the parts in this case,” she said.

  “Except that one,” he repeated. “I’m very sorry, madam. Would you like me to box it up for you?”

  “May I see that?” she asked, pointing to the impeller.

  “That’s a pump impeller,” he told her. “But the pump won’t work without a sensor.”

  “I’ll take them both,” she said.

  “The sensor and the impeller?” he asked.

  “Both impellers,” she said. “Please box them up carefully.”

  His face went slack.

  “Thank you so much,” she added warmly. “The discount will be such a help, and I’m sure my sister can secure a sensor for me before her visit. If not, I’ll be back and see you again.”

  His face twisted into a smile that made it look a bit like he had a toothache. But he boxed up the two parts carefully, took her credits, and handed the package over.

  “Will there be anything else?” he asked.

  “The shiny droid by the entry, what does it rent for?” she asked.

  “Oh, that’s an expensive machine,” he said.

  “How much?”

  “Eighty credits per week,” he told her.

  “And the little one?”

  “Fifteen credits per week, but it can’t plant or harvest,” he said with a smile.

  “I’ll take the little one,” she said.

  “It needs service,” he told her.

  “I can service it,” she said. “If you can reduce the rent to twelve per week.”

  “Absolutely not,” he said.

  “Understood,” she told him. “You have a nice day.”

  “Wait,” he said. “Fourteen per week for the first month if you service it. Fifteen after that.”

  “Fantastic,” she said, her face lighting up.

  He bent to retrieve an ownership disc from behind the counter.

  “You’ll pay the first month up front,” he said, handing it to her.

  “Thank you again,” she said, handing him more credits with another big smile. “You have been so kind.”

  He smiled a little more genuinely this time. “Bring luck on Clotho,” he told her.

  Tyro turned to her, amazed.

  She winked at him, and then they headed away from the counter.

  The people who had been in line behind them were whispering, and not all of it was kind, but Tyro didn’t care.

  His mate was very, very clever.

  And it filled him with pride.

  9

  Phoebe

  Phoebe kept her arms wrapped protectively around Atlas as they exited the store.

  While she was proud of the lessons in commerce she had learned at her father’s side, she was suddenly aware that her skill was a double-edged sword.

  The whispers around them were too low for her to make out completely, but their tone was clear.

  The other citizens of Clotho didn’t appreciate her comin
g in and buying up equipment.

  They didn’t appreciate her being here at all.

  She focused on getting out of the store, out of range of the whispers and stares.

  When they reached the droid, she inserted the ownership disk and it lit up. She set it to silent follow mode so as not to gain any more unwanted attention.

  Though it needed service, it was a good-looking piece of machinery, sturdy and reasonably maintained. She was sure she could teach it to do just about anything she wanted.

  But right now, she only wanted a fast getaway.

  She turned and headed for the exit with both Tyro and the droid in tow.

  “You were amazing,” Tyro told her as soon as they reached the street. “Now I understand why you wanted to handle our business affairs. From here on in, you will. We should go to the saloon and have a hearty lunch to celebrate.”

  “We need to go home,” she told him. “Right away.”

  He frowned, but stayed by her side as she headed back toward their dock. Once they were on the edge of the village, she turned to him.

  “What were they saying?” she asked.

  “What do you mean?” His voice was guarded and he didn’t meet her eyes.

  He was clearly just trying to spare her feelings.

  “I know they were saying bad things about me,” she clarified. “And I bet your dragon has good enough hearing that you know exactly what they said.”

  “Phoebe, do you know what they tell the young dragonets about listening in with enhanced senses?” he asked.

  “If you listen at doors, you hear what you deserve?” she offered, remembering that phrase from her own childhood.

  “Basically that, yes,” he said. “If those people whispered, it means they weren’t trying to confront you, Phoebe. And you have a lifetime to prove them wrong.”

  “Please just tell me,” she said. “I want to be prepared. I need to know what I’m up against.”

  He sighed.

  “Please,” she repeated.

  “You won’t hold it against me?” he asked.

  “You’re just the messenger,” she told him.

  He looked around them, and she did the same. But they were completely alone.

  “Here’s the thing, Phoebe,” he said. “All the complaints basically add up to this. The best docks on the lake were set aside for you. The best local berries were seeded in the lake for you.”

  “I didn’t ask for that,” she said. “I didn’t want a dock at all.”

  “I know that,” he told her. “But to the locals, it seems like you’re starting off with an unfair advantage in the market. We even bought the last two impellers today, when we only needed one.”

  “I was afraid it would be stolen again,” she admitted, suddenly feeling much less pleased with her own cleverness.

  “They’re afraid that with the advantages you appear to have, real or not, you’ll do very well,” he said. “And then more like you will come. One woman seemed sure the tax man would soon raise the property taxes to drive the locals out, and that none of the old wet-farmers would be able to hang on. Her friend agreed that within a year, only the upper crust from off-moon would inhabit the farms on the lake.’”

  “That’s awful,” she said. “That’s not what I want at all.”

  “I know that,” he said. “And soon, they’ll know that too.”

  “But in the interim, they’ll try to sabotage me,” she went on. “And they’ll probably succeed, since I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  Tyro’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t argue.

  “A stop for lunch sounds great,” she said. “But for now, I think it’s more important to go back, lock down my stuff, and inventory the farm equipment before any more of it gets stolen.”

  “Agreed,” he said after a moment. “Let’s get home and lock everything down.”

  She felt a pang of relief that he wasn’t going to try to spare her feelings or save his own efforts.

  He’s my mate. He has my back, a voice in the back of her head said with satisfaction.

  A shiver of anticipation went down her spine as her thoughts turned back to the dream from last night. She glanced over at Tyro, who was trying to hide a half smile.

  “What?” she asked.

  “It’s just that, my kind doesn’t really try to hide their, uh, emotions, the way you do,” he said.

  “Why not?” she asked.

  “Because of our enhanced senses,” he said. “Especially where a mate is concerned.”

  Oh, God, he didn’t really mean emotions.

  He meant arousal.

  “So you can tell when I’m thinking about...” she trailed off, really, really not wanting to say sex.

  He nodded.

  “If it makes you feel any better, I can’t stop thinking about it either.”

  She felt the blood rush to her cheeks.

  “That is how it must be, my love,” he said, stopping to take her hands. “It is right that I crave you. You are the sun to my moon, the light to my darkness. Our joining will move the heavens.”

  Atlas chose that moment to wake up and whimper in her arms.

  “Oh dear,” he said. “Poor little fellow, he has had a busy day.”

  “I can’t believe the sun is setting already,” Phoebe said, gazing at the pink sky.

  “The days here are short,” he replied. “We should hurry if we want to secure everything before dark.”

  “Of course,” she said. “And Atlas needs his feeding.”

  They continued walking until the docks came into sight. The pink sunset reflecting on the water lent them a surreal glow that was quite beautiful.

  But Phoebe couldn’t enjoy the view.

  Beside her, Tyro seemed to be growing more tense the closer they drew toward home.

  She didn’t dare ask, but she was certain she knew the reason. His amped up senses must have picked up on something unpleasant.

  An intruder.

  She only hoped she had hidden her trunk well enough to escape the notice of any uninvited guests.

  10

  Phoebe

  Phoebe’s heart was pounding as they approached the yurt.

  “Why don’t I feed Atlas?” Tyro suggested.

  She handed over the baby gratefully and dashed off to find her trunk.

  Please let it be here. Please let it be here. Please let it be here.

  She ran to the corner beside her bed, where she could see the outline of the trunk under the throw she had spread over it in an attempt to make it look like a bedside table.

  It looked untouched.

  She whisked off the throw to get access to the lock, feeling like she needed to peek inside, just to be sure.

  Phoebe looked around, but there was no one but Tyro, who was focused on warming a cell of milk for the baby.

  The lock was physical, with a biometric backup, so it would be nearly impossible for anyone else to open it without clear signs of damage. But still…

  Phoebe pulled at the chain around her neck until she extracted the key at the end, and then unlocked the trunk using the key and her fingerprint at the same time.

  Everything inside was just as she had left it.

  She closed and relocked it quickly, dropping the key safely back down the front of her blouse.

  “Everything okay?” Tyro called to her from the kitchen.

  “Yes,” she said. “But I need to lock this thing down before I can really feel better.”

  “I didn’t want to scare you, but I scented someone on the docks on the way in,” he said, confirming her suspicions. “Not in here though. Whoever it was must have been more interested in the farm than the personal stuff.”

  A chill went down Phoebe’s spine. Other than the trunk, there was nothing personal she cared about more than the farm.

  She straightened up and decided to do something that might help, or at the very least would keep her mind occupied until Tyro was ready to help secure her trunk.

  S
he headed over to the droid, examining its control panel. If it could be programed for guard duty, that would be a life changer.

  She slid it out of silent follow mode, figuring it might as well help her understand its own potential.

  There was a muted hum and a few lights on the panel blinked. Then the droid opened its “eyes” - just two blue lights on the front screen. They weren’t really necessary, but she knew the manufacturers gave droids features like that to make people more comfortable interacting with them.

  “Hello, my lady,” it said in a smooth, vaguely male voice.

  “Hello,” she replied. “Welcome to our home. I’m Phoebe, that man is Tyro, and the baby is called Atlas.” She spoke slowly, knowing the droid would need to calibrate to the slight differences in accent and pitch of her voice, compared to its last renter.

  Tyro looked over at her, brows slightly raised.

  “Hello, Phoebe, Tyro and Atlas,” the droid replied politely.

  “What do you like to be called?” Phoebe asked.

  The droid “blinked” its eyes. “No one has ever asked me that question. I am a Quality 4T Household Droid, manufactured in the Saylin Prefecture.”

  “How about we call you Saylin?” Phoebe offered.

  “I would like that,” it replied.

  “Saylin, what can you do?” she asked.

  “That is a question best answered by my manual, available online day or night at the following address—” it began.

  “Wait, Saylin,” she said quickly. “I know I can look up a list. But what do you do best? What do most people have you do?”

  “Many users have found that I am effective at carrying goods while they are shopping,” Saylin replied. “I often assist in the kitchen with food preparation and cooking. I can watch over younglings, like your own small one, and assist with cleaning and finding lost objects.”

  “Can you perform guard duty?” she asked.

  “I am not a battle droid,” he replied.

  “You say that you watch over younglings,” she replied. “What do you do when they get into trouble?”

  “If the youngling gets into mischief, I am programmed to give one of several thousand approved speeches, based on the mischief at hand,” the droid explained.