Deathstalker 01 - Deathstalker

said Hazel. "I don't owe you anything, aristo. If I'd known you were going to cling on like this, I'd have shot you myself."
    All right, thought Owen, so much for appealing to her better nature. She is an outlaw, after all.
    "How about this: I'll hire you as my bodyguard till I learn the ropes. Name your own price."
    Hazel looked at him thoughtfully. "And just what were you planning to pay me with?"
    "As you just pointed out, selling the Sunstrider will make me extremely rich. If the right person was there to oversee the deal."
    "Ten percent," said Hazel flatly. "I get my money right off the top, and you don't get to make any conditions. You also don't get to whine, complain or ask impertinent questions. I'll stick with you till you're established, but then I'm off. You're too tempting a target, Deathstalker. I feel nervous just standing next to you."
    Owen seethed inwardly. He had a strong suspicion that ten percent of what the Sunstrider would bring would be enough to set up a dozen men for life, but it wasn't as if he had a choice in the matter. He couldn't command her as a Lord, or beg her as a friend, so that just left money.

    "All right," he said tightly. "You've got a deal."
    He put out his hand for her to shake, but she just looked at it. "Forget the handshake, Deathstalker. We've no reason to trust each other. All you need to know is that if you try to cross or cheat me, I'll cut you up into bite-sized chunks, and to hell with all your fancy training. Now let me think."
    She stood there for a long moment frowning, concentrating. Owen lowered his hand and let it rest on his belt near his sword. With anyone else, he would have challenged them to a duel for such an insult, but Hazel was different. He had a feeling he could come to respect her. If he didn't kill her first. She sniffed suddenly, as though coming to a decision she wasn't particularly pleased with, and fixed Owen with her sardonic gaze again.
    "Assuming the few friends I made last time I was here are still around, and still feeling friendly, I should be able to talk our way past quarantine. We can't afford to hang around long enough to be recognized. Unfortunately, we can't afford to rely on my old contacts. Lifespans tend to be rather short on Mistworld. If the people don't kill you, the planet will. I hope you've got some industrial-strength warm clothing tucked away on this ship somewhere, or we're going to freeze solid just walking off the landing pads.
    Owen scowled. "Assuming your old contacts are no longer in the land of the living or the willing, and we can't talk our way past quarantine, how long would they hold us?"
    "Long enough to call an esper to dig through our minds in search of something incriminating. Mistport security takes its job very seriously. The Empire keeps trying to smuggle in disguised plague ships and the like."
    "And we can't afford to be identified," said Owen. "Great. Just great. All
    right, Hazel, do whatever you have to, but keep us out of quarantine. Only bear in mind that whatever bribe you end up offering is coming out of your ten percent. Clear?"
    Hazel nodded approvingly. "See, you're starting to think like an outlaw already."
    "What sort of planet is Mistworld?" said Owen as they headed for the comm panels. "You make it sound like a hellworld."
    "It's a hard world, Deathstalker. Very poor, hardly any high tech, and the people who come here tend to be the lowest of the low."
    "I'm sure you felt right at home here, Hazel."
    "You will come to regret that remark in the long cold days ahead, aristo. You'll either learn to fit in here, or die. Your choice. Ozymandius, are you listening?"
    "Of course, Hazel," said the AI promptly. "A great many people have been trying to talk to us. I have been waiting to ascertain whether we wished to talk to them."
    "Patch me through to the Mistport control tower," said Hazel. "Everyone else can wait."
    "As you wish. May I point out at this stage that I am a very sophisticated system and quite capable of running rings around any AIs the Mistport might have?"
    "Don't even think about it," said Hazel sharply. "What they use for computers down there would scare the electronic spit out of you. They're very powerful and extremely dangerous. Shield yourself at all times and stay well clear of anything that isn't entirely human. Like everything else on Mistworld, the computers have got teeth you wouldn't believe."

    "Nice place you've brought me to," said Owen.
    "It has its charms. Raise