Read Online Sister Time-Callys War 2 by John Ringo, Julie Cochrane - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: John Ringo, Julie Cochrane
Tags: Fiction, General, Science-Fiction, adventure, Space Opera, Military, Life on other planets, Human-alien encounters, Sisters, Female Assassins
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really hated having to tell Grandpa that "our" meeting with Michelle was really her meeting with Michelle. She'd felt like she'd just taken away a kid's Christmas candy. He hadn't said much, then or since. She'd passed on Michelle's excuse, and cringed when he'd tried to wave it away as "no bother" to him as Clan Head. From the way Michelle had sounded, it hadn't seemed like she'd show unless Cally was alone. Grandpa didn't understand, of course. She didn't, either, but she wasn't the one being left out.
Telling him had been just awful.
Soon they'd gotten the netting down, which was more to stop the blowing sand than anything, all sensible mosquitos having decided to stay out of the cold, or whatever it was mosquitos did. She looked at her watch and threw a side-glance at Grandpa. Neither one met the other's eyes. She looked up at Shari, whose eyes plainly said she didn't want to be involved.
"I guess it's about that time. I'll be back in a bit," Cally said. Grandpa just grunted in reply. Not gonna be a real relaxed dinner, is it.
Cally picked her way through the tall grass to a set of ancient railroad-tie stairs and started down onto the beach. She looked out at the waves hitting the shore and sighed, futilely trying to tuck her hair behind her ears. The wind insisted on blowing it right into her face. She dug an elastic band out of her jeans and pulled it back in a ponytail. It made her look about sixteen. Twelve, if it hadn't been for the boobs, which she still considered overwhelming. She sighed, but it wasn't like anyone but family was here to see her.
The impression of adolescence was complete as she walked down the beach, scuffing her feet in the sand.
"Where are you going?" The voice came from behind her and Cally jumped, spinning around in a crouch.
"Ack! Don't do that!" Cally clutched a hand to her chest and looked up at the girls, letting a breath of relief out that they were still sitting at the table and maybe hadn't noticed anything unusual. "You didn't just appear out of nowhere, did you?"
"Please give me credit for some sense. I came in behind that pile of rubble." Michelle gestured at the crumbling remains of some cinderblock structure or other. "I only walked down when I saw you. So it seems I am finally at a beach with you."
"Yeah," Cally said. There was an uncomfortable silence. "Before we get into the mission, real quick, can I ask you a question about nanogenerator code keys?"
"Your employers do not have the capability to make use of the keys you stole." It wasn't a question.
"Right. Our people say they're level fours and would be difficult to fence," Cally said.
"The current price of six level four code keys would be sixty thousand seven hundred and forty-eight point zero nine seven fedcreds as of close of business at the Chicago Trade Consortium. I would be willing to pay that amount for the keys you took from the Darhel last night. Do you agree to carry my offer to your employers? It would be an arrangement of benefit to Clan O'Neal." If possible, Michelle's voice was even more expressionless, and she stood still in her Mentat robes. They should have been blowing in the wind, but weren't. The wind wasn't allowed to so much as ruffle her hem, and Cally was suddenly aware of the sand in her own shoes and the blowing wisps of ultra-pale blond hair that had escaped from her ponytail.
Michelle had clearly inherited her height from their father and Grandpa. Her petite five foot nothing had an almost boyish slimness that made her sister feel awkward in her own tall frame. If she could have seen herself through the eyes of others, the unlikely assassin would have realized her comparatively small waist and Scandinavian features made her look more like a nineteen-nineties calendar girl than the chubby teenager she imagined. If Captain Sinda Makepeace had been anything, she'd been strikingly attractive.
Cally's physical appeal had not suffered from being stuck in the other woman's semblance when
Telling him had been just awful.
Soon they'd gotten the netting down, which was more to stop the blowing sand than anything, all sensible mosquitos having decided to stay out of the cold, or whatever it was mosquitos did. She looked at her watch and threw a side-glance at Grandpa. Neither one met the other's eyes. She looked up at Shari, whose eyes plainly said she didn't want to be involved.
"I guess it's about that time. I'll be back in a bit," Cally said. Grandpa just grunted in reply. Not gonna be a real relaxed dinner, is it.
Cally picked her way through the tall grass to a set of ancient railroad-tie stairs and started down onto the beach. She looked out at the waves hitting the shore and sighed, futilely trying to tuck her hair behind her ears. The wind insisted on blowing it right into her face. She dug an elastic band out of her jeans and pulled it back in a ponytail. It made her look about sixteen. Twelve, if it hadn't been for the boobs, which she still considered overwhelming. She sighed, but it wasn't like anyone but family was here to see her.
The impression of adolescence was complete as she walked down the beach, scuffing her feet in the sand.
"Where are you going?" The voice came from behind her and Cally jumped, spinning around in a crouch.
"Ack! Don't do that!" Cally clutched a hand to her chest and looked up at the girls, letting a breath of relief out that they were still sitting at the table and maybe hadn't noticed anything unusual. "You didn't just appear out of nowhere, did you?"
"Please give me credit for some sense. I came in behind that pile of rubble." Michelle gestured at the crumbling remains of some cinderblock structure or other. "I only walked down when I saw you. So it seems I am finally at a beach with you."
"Yeah," Cally said. There was an uncomfortable silence. "Before we get into the mission, real quick, can I ask you a question about nanogenerator code keys?"
"Your employers do not have the capability to make use of the keys you stole." It wasn't a question.
"Right. Our people say they're level fours and would be difficult to fence," Cally said.
"The current price of six level four code keys would be sixty thousand seven hundred and forty-eight point zero nine seven fedcreds as of close of business at the Chicago Trade Consortium. I would be willing to pay that amount for the keys you took from the Darhel last night. Do you agree to carry my offer to your employers? It would be an arrangement of benefit to Clan O'Neal." If possible, Michelle's voice was even more expressionless, and she stood still in her Mentat robes. They should have been blowing in the wind, but weren't. The wind wasn't allowed to so much as ruffle her hem, and Cally was suddenly aware of the sand in her own shoes and the blowing wisps of ultra-pale blond hair that had escaped from her ponytail.
Michelle had clearly inherited her height from their father and Grandpa. Her petite five foot nothing had an almost boyish slimness that made her sister feel awkward in her own tall frame. If she could have seen herself through the eyes of others, the unlikely assassin would have realized her comparatively small waist and Scandinavian features made her look more like a nineteen-nineties calendar girl than the chubby teenager she imagined. If Captain Sinda Makepeace had been anything, she'd been strikingly attractive.
Cally's physical appeal had not suffered from being stuck in the other woman's semblance when
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