Read Online [03] Elite: Docking is Difficult by Gideon Defoe - Free Book Online

sound plausible.’
    Alicia sniffed. ‘Gee, Phoebe, it’s great to have your input. And I’m sure there are lots of things that you know – about
customs
and
excise
. If I had a customs and excise question I’d definitely come to you. But this is, or rather
isn’t
, a homicide, and we’re homicide detectives, so I
kind of
think we know what we’re doing. Besides, I heard you have your own super-exciting, poorly-filled-out-cargo-manifest case to deal with. But anyway, let’s not talk about that. Ganymede’s not the only big news. Can you keep a secret?’
    Phoebe nodded, and felt her stomach knot.
    ‘I shouldn’t be telling you – it’s embargoed until next week – but I’m on the shortlist. For the “thirty police under thirty to watch out for” thing.’
    ‘Oh. Fuck. I mean, wow. That’s really excellent, Alicia.’
    Alicia flicked her flicky hair back. ‘I love this outfit by the way! You look like you’re going to a children’s party. It’s so Phoebe! It’s really refreshing how you don’t care about your appearance.’
    Misha had made the final centimetre of his drink last for the best part of twenty minutes, but he didn’t think he could pretend to be engrossed in
Prometheus, Reclining, Contemplates The Howling Void
for much longer. He chanced another quick look towards the bar, where Phoebe was still chatting with her friends. Probably, Misha thought, his shoulders drooping, she had called them from the toilet.
Please rescue me, I’m trapped talking to a man who won’t quit flapping his gums about the spaceship he obviously doesn’t really own.
And what was with that ludicrous attempt to mime being ‘shot through the heart’ just then? Where had
that
come from? He ran his hand through his hair, and a bit of vegetable gristle dropped out.
You have pig guts on you. She’s not coming back. You’ve blown it in the space of an hour. When you get back home you’re going to top yourself by jumping into the Gippsworld mineshaft.
    The club was starting to thin out. Misha waved for a baristabot to bring him another cocktail, then remembered that he couldn’t afford it. He ordered a slightly cheaper perception filter instead, so that at least his recollection of the evening would have the more appalling edges softened. He sat at an empty table, peeled off the back of the filter, stuck it to his arm, and was about to resign himself to another night alone with
Mission: Thargoid Kill-Punch
when he felt a tap on his shoulder.
    ‘Excuse me.’
    Misha looked up. It took him a little while to place her. It was the dazzlingly beautiful platinum blonde from the market hall.
    ‘Hello,’ said the dazzlingly beautiful platinum blonde, flashing a dazzling smile to match the rest of her face. ‘I couldn’t help but hear you talking about your thriving intergalactic space-trading business earlier.’
    ‘Yes,’ said Misha, shaking his head, as a wave of self-disgust crashed up against the perception filter and easily overpowered it, because the Omar Sharif Jazz Lounge watered their product down pretty badly. ‘I was talking about that.’
    ‘Can I buy you a drink?’ The blonde sat down next to him and put her mouth very close to his ear. ‘I’ve got a proposition for you.’

Chapter Five
    Phoebe rubbed her eyes, popped another sobriety pill and decided that, in retrospect, those civets and their endangered digestive tracts deserved everything they got. She wasn’t a hundred percent sure how the rest of the evening had progressed. She remembered getting trapped in an argument with Alicia about the merits of an entirely noodle-based diet. She remembered noticing Misha talking to an irritatingly beautiful platinum blonde, and she remembered that by the time she’d finally got free from the homicide goons he had vanished. She remembered Sergeant Peterson explaining his theories on story structure, which somehow tied in to why he thought pugs were a lazy type of dog. She had a dim recollection that she