Salazar quickly worked out a trade request with the first pioneer that approached them, and under Phanya's watchful glare he drove the jitney into an open cargo container. Ricky had to push from behind to keep the vehicles together, leaving him to stand in the container's open mouth when it started to lift. There were no safety features and no warning, so Ricky braced against the jitney and locked his suit in place before panic made him do something stupid. He was safe, but watching the ground and air swirl outside gave Ricky waves of vertigo instead.

  While Ricky waited for his stomach to settle, the rest of the party exited the car and approached a pioneer. He looked the same to Tapper as the other pioneers with the vest, but this canine hybrid wore a small trifold hat as some signifier of authority. He carried an oversized tablet, and when Salazar got his attention the tablet unfolded itself into a wide metal table with a thin blue border around the edge.

  "Welcome to the Bazaar, in partnership with the landship Privateer, a subsidiary of Enterprise Holdings," the man drawled, not bothering to look up as he tapped at the table. It was one big screen; programs and unknown holographic symbols covered the table's entire surface and flicked around at the canine's command. "What would you like to haggle with at the Bazaar today?" Despite his clear boredom, the man's muzzle shape chopped up his voice at every syllable and the hybrid, strictly speaking, barked every word.

  Salazar mumbled something, coughed, and tried again. "Good afternoon foreman, we need to reorientate and top off."

  The foreman paused his tapping and looked up for the first time, cocking an eyebrow at the motley party before him. "Reorientate? Don't tell me you kids actually phased through? I don't buy it."

  Salazar's neck frills bristled. "You want proof? We have this!" He hauled the garbage bag onto the table and yanked it open. To Tapper's estimation Salazar was attempting to add a dramatic flourish, but his anxiety made his motions twitchy and off-putting. And the scowl he still wore did not inspire confidence, but the foreman's eyes bugged out when he saw the yellow monster's corpse all the same. "We have a whole gremlin!"

  "An engorged gremlin!" Tapper helpfully added.

  "Well I'll be damned," the foreman said, rubbing his muzzle. Then he turned towards the throng of people and shouted, "Gord — hey, Gordon! Come check this out!"

  A large man, his body built up and then scarred by a rough life, shouldered his way through the crowd and whistled at the proffered exchange. "You kids did this, and didn't lose no one?"

  The foreman cleared his throat and said, "Yeah we're all impressed, but lyin' won't get you in." He bared his teeth, and Tapper's social programs failed to determine whether he was smiling or snarling. "You said this was a whole gremlin, not a gremlin with a big hole."

  "Oh fuck off with that," Salazar snapped back, annoyance stifling his anxiety for a moment. "This thing is in better shape than most of the demons you get to harvest. Some of the skin and bones are damaged, but the important shit's all there. The heart's good, guts and eyes are good, do you want me to crack open its skull and prove the brain is good too?"

  Glares shared across the table grew tense for a second before the foreman suddenly barked out a laugh and his tail twitched in sync. "I'm just screwin' with ya, kid. You did good, and Gordon here's one of our gremlin guys. He can verify its worth."

  The larger man grunted in agreement and popped open a pouch on his chest, pulling out a plain light bulb that he then attached to a headgear harness. The harness went under his hat and held the light bulb directly in front of his left eye, leaving both hands free to poke and prod at the corpse while Gordon made small appreciative grunts.

  "Mhm, mhm. Heart's a little scuffed, but salvageable. Not much blood left, and the stomach's empty. Otherwise the lizard is right, it's a good catch. Y'all got real lucky that this thing didn't grow a relic, or you'd really be screwed!" The big man laughed, and one of Salazar's goggle eyes swiveled around to glare at Tapper. "Either way, they're still tough as shit. How did you kill a grade 2 chomper without blowing it to bits?"

  Salazar didn't have a good response ready, so Tapper aided him with a chipper, "That is a trade secret, sir!" The instant Gordon pulled out the little light bulb Tapper could feel the energy it emitted, glowing with magic rather than light. He couldn't identify the little relic without ownership, but if this privateer was a rival adventurer then Tapper wanted to keep their own magic a secret.

  A thoughtful frown set on Gordon's face as he looked Tapper up and down. "The bot's carrying some relics, too. Is it part of the pile?"

  "Nope!" Phanya snapped, stepping in before Tapper had a chance to helpfully make everything more awkward. "Nothing about that robot is for sale, inside or out, no exceptions." Gordon raised an eyebrow at Phanya's enthusiastic response, but instead of saying anything he just shrugged and pocketed his light bulb relic.

  The foreman clapped the big man on the shoulder and said, "That's a shame, but this gremlin is plenty of leverage by itself." He spread his hands over the table and a hologram appeared of balancing scales. A goofy cartoon representation of the gremlin fell into one cup as a pile of all the individual parts Gordon identified, and the scales tipped off balance. "So, what can the Bazaar offer in exchange?"

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  "Just a basic 2-F package for us two, plus that human in braces, and the reorientation."

  The foreman gave Salazar an appraising eye and said, "Sure you don't want to spring for level 3? Looks like you've been on the road a long time."

  "What's this about levels?" Ricky asked, still looking a little flushed but otherwise recovered.

  Salazar flicked a brief glare of annoyance at Ricky before he explained, "Nothing, it's just the level of care package I got us for the day. Level 2 is food and fuel."

  "Well, what's the third F?"

  Salazar's neck frill twitched nervously while the foreman bared his teeth again. This time, Tapper felt slightly more confident that this was him sneering at Salazar. Eventually he stammered, "…Fun. Level 3 is fun."

  "That is an excellent perk!" Tapper chimed. "I am Level 4, what perk does that entail here?"

  Everyone gave Tapper a chorus of confused looks before Salazar swiped his hand through the air and snapped, "Forget it! We're just doing a 2-F!" The foreman shrugged and didn't try to hide his snickering at their expense. But he pressed some icons on the table screen and three chicken legs fell into the empty cup, followed by one large can of gas and a compass. The scales barely wiggled in response, and when Salazar asked for a few meters of towing cable the scales shifted a little bit more.

  Salazar turned to the rest and said, "If you need any goods or services, now's the time to ask. Just don't let the scales fall off-balance."

  Ricky's eyes lit up and he leaned on the table. "Services? What kind? Do you have a machining station that can cut metal? Ideally at laser accuracy?" Ricky leaned more, and the gremlin slid against his hand without him noticing.

  The foreman leaned away slightly and said, "Uh yeah, we got a few tables. Laser cutters are the most expensive, though, and we charge by the hour." Ricky yipped and a very large stopwatch fell onto the scales, knocking it most of the way towards even.

  "Whoa, what the hell??" Salazar snapped, arms and frill flailing. "You don't need the most expensive option, take something cheaper!"

  While the two of them argued, Tapper leaned over and waved to get the foreman's attention. "I'd like to peruse your apothecary, please." The word flowed into Tapper from his library of adventurer's knowledge, but the foreman didn't seem to know it. "I mean, potion ingredients? Herbs? Spices, medicine, drugs?" Tapper was running out of synonyms before the foreman blinked and nodded.

  "Sure, medicine and drugs. Don't let your handlers overdose while they're on board, though; seeing a doctor will cost a lot more." A cartoon medkit and a syringe filled with green fluid appeared in the scales, making it almost even.

  "There you fucking are!" A voice suddenly shouted from the crowd. People hurriedly skipped out of the way to make room for a woman as she stormed in the party's direction. She was short and stout, with curves that suggested solid muscle underneath, tanned skin and a wild mane of deep copper hair whipping in the wind. A man followed as her exact opposite; tall and lean, pale and utterly hairless. He looked uncomfortable and anxious, she just looked mad. "Don't think you'll get away this time!"

  Salazar groaned and pinched his snout. "What now? Who the hell are you two?"

  "We're here for the —" The short woman's shout cut short when the taller man suddenly nudged her with his knee, and they shared a glare before she continued, "We're here to settle a debt. I'm Jena, and this is Jelly."

  Jelly winced slightly and groaned, "Please don't call me that."

  Jena ignored him and continued, "Remember, you killed my bro Spike? Embarrassed Jelly's boss? Ring any bells?"

  "Yeah, Fairbanks' aide," Phanya murmured, her voice quelled by the sudden twist in her stomach. She recognized the man immediately, even if she had only seen his face once a few weeks ago, during her first meeting with the local CyraCorp manager. She had also watched him die earlier that same day. No one else knew he was a clone, and Phanya wondered if he even knew what happened to his predecessor. "Wait wait, your name is Jelly?"

  "My name is Jellico," he corrected, drawing himself up to a proud height head and shoulders above almost everyone else.

  "Don't worry about Jelly's name!" Jena shouted. At barely 1.5 meters tall, she was the shortest person in the group and had to wave her hands to get everyone's attention. "Point is, we got a score to settle!"

  Salazar caught onto the subtext and swiped a hand in the air. "Back off rat bitch, I've already claimed this bounty."

  Jena chittered in annoyance and pointed at her own face. "I favor gophers, you blind-ass cold-blood! Gophers!"

  A sharp bark cut off the argument and everyone turned to the foreman, baring his teeth. This time, he was clearly snarling. "Leave your own debts off of the Privateer. Ma'am, I am haggling with this customer, you need to —"

  "Yeah I know, we're all haggling," Jena said as she reached into a duffle bag carried by Jellico. "How much do you think this beaut's worth?" She yanked out a rope, dangling a large knot that entangled a small but very lively creature, and the gathering crowd sucked in a collective breath. A tiny gremlin, no larger than a domestic cat with muddy cream-colored skin, yanked and tore at its restraints to no avail.

  "Shit lady, you caught a live one? And it's stable?"

  "Damn right we did," Jena said, hands proudly on her hips. "Bet that buys us a few Fs to spare, hah."

  The foreman started to rapidly tap at symbols on his corner of the table and said, "Well, if you have any documentation of what it can do then that'll help, otherwise you can hire a professional to appraise it. They're way more in-depth than Gordon, but worth it. Or we can just give you a flat fee for 'living but unknown PSI entities' and... shouldn't everyone be here for this part?" Everyone looked around in confusion, but Jellico was the first to notice and he swore an oath.

  "Damnit, where did the bot and the human go?"