Chapter 9: Lock and Key | page 2

“Tiberius? Good God man, is that you?”

Xyn straightened and turned, grinning at him. The little scientist had gotten even fatter, Tiberius noted. Business must have been good. Even the Ixthian’s short antennae were chubby. Xyn’s multifaceted eyes gleamed a pleased white that mirrored his pale hair. He clapped Tiberius on the back.

“What brings you out to our tired old star?” Xyn asked. “I know you better than that! This isn’t a social call.”

“I burnt off my phenno and now I need a new batch,” Tiberius said.

“Again? What happened? Lord, do I want to know? You’d stop getting yourself in trouble if you’d fire that damned fairy girl. Mauve, Midge… whatever her name is,” Xyn grumbled. He went to one of the tables and began measuring out the cloudy blue liquid phenno into a large pressure canister.

“Don’t start,” said Tiberius. “You wouldn’t even have a redprint for the phenno if it weren’t for Maeve. I wouldn’t have had a guess where to find the Nnyth to collect your sample. She took us right to one of their colonies.”

Xyn didn’t answer him. Instead, he poured half a beaker of liquid phenno into a large drum, filling the rest of the container with a syrupy suspension solution. Tiberius helped him carry it over to a shaker. Together, the two men fitted the drum into the mixer and Xyn turned it on, filling the lab with a rasping buzz. He gestured for Tiberius to sit at one of the tables.

“How’s business?” Tiberius asked as he took a seat. Orphia fluttered to perch on the edge of the table, her claws screeching on the metal. Xyn winced.

“It’s been good,” he said, fishing around for a seat for himself. “No one uses as much phenno as you, of course. But I don’t exactly have competition, so anyone who wants to carry things discretely or who doesn’t want his systems fried by EMPs pays me a visit sooner or later.”

“Emphasis on pays,” chuckled Tiberius.

Xyn gestured at the tanks behind them. “This batch will be up in about a week and should last me for about six months.”

“Do you still have the original I brought from the hive?” Tiberius wondered.

“Heaven beyond, no,” Xyn said with a chuckle. “The original strands broke down a while ago. But naturally, I had the foresight to clone up a few extras. I’m using the third generation now. There’s the timer. Your phenno is up, Tiberius.”

He helped Xyn wrest the canister out from the mixer. “That should be enough to lacquer up your ship. Good thing for me you don’t fly anything bigger than that old junker.”

“What do I owe you?”

“You know better. Someone else would have my clients if you and your Arcadian hadn’t brought me the Nnyth samples in the first place. I owe you my entire business,” said Xyn. “Not that I intend to give you the whole business. But I can part with some phenno from time to time. I really am grateful, you old bird-lover.”

“Thanks, Xyn.”

The Ixthian pointed to the door. “That’s enough generosity for one day. Go on, get out of here. I’ve got work to do.”

Tiberius hefted the phenno canister over one shoulder. The handle was wide, designed to accommodate an Ixthian’s extra fingers. Comfortable enough for the walk back to the Blue Phoenix, he thought. Tiberius whistled for Orphia with one of the police calls that were like a second language to the old cop.

Come.

She pushed herself into the air with a single beat of her wings and glided over to land on her master’s arm. Together, they exited Xyn’s store.