Free The Phoenix Darkness by Richard L. Sanders

left to do but see it through, hopefully to its financially
lucrative conclusion. Though the presence of so many human bones
around him, dangling here, clicking and clanking there, was
unnerving. He took some measure of comfort in knowing this was, at
least, not the first time he’d tried to pull a scam, and he knew
how to look a person in the eye deadpan and bluff his ass off.
Would that work on a Strigoi? He supposed only time would tell. So
he choked down his fear, kept up his cheery appearance, and guided
the Enclave’s soldiers until they reached the hold where, carefully
situated and locked firmly in place, were fourteen isotome
missiles.
    “Here we are,” he announced. The Strigoi
ignored him and immediately fanned out to inspect the weapons, all
of the Strigoi except for one who hung back, keeping an eerily
watchful eye on Zander while his cohorts did their job. Zander
tried not to make eye contact with him, or give any indication he
was uncomfortable with the Strigoi standing there.
    They seemed to look approving at the weapons;
Zander had kept them polished and pleasing to the eye, but before
the Strigoi could take note of the number of them, specifically
that there was one too few, Zander played the only trick he had
left to him.
    “As you can see,” he said, turning to the
Strigoi who’d remained behind. The one who appeared to be in
command of the others. “They are magnificent weapons and in
excellent condition, so, I think it is only fair we discuss price
once again.” At this point, Zander would be happy to trade them for
nothing but his life, free and clear, but to make any such gesture
would be to admit fault, to essentially point out to the Strigoi
that, although repentant now, he had tried to cheat them. So, he
did the opposite. No one would dare cheat their business partner by
pilfering from the inventory and try to negotiate for a
higher cut. The very idea was lunacy; he knew that and counted on
the Strigoi to know that too. Hell, everyone knew that! Therefore,
because he tried to negotiate for a better price, that must mean he
hadn’t pilfered from the inventory and was telling the truth about
only finding fourteen missiles.
    “What do you mean, price?” asked the Strigoi,
baring his teeth. “The price was already agreed.”
    “Well, now it isn’t,” said Zander. “As you
can see, I've taken extra love and care of them,” he waved in the
general direction of the gleaming missiles. “And with that
unfortunate mishap on Remus Nine, these are the only ones left. I
think that more than quadruples their value. But I am a fair man,”
said Zander, keeping perfect confidence, or at least the appearance
of it. “Why don’t we meet halfway and call it an even double?”
    The Strigoi scowled, as if not believing what
he was hearing. “You overreach, human, as is typical for your
inferior species. Don’t you know that with one command I could have
you all slaughtered, limb from limb, and take the weapons for
myself for no cost at all?”
    “True, you could do that,” said Zander,
trying admirably to sound unconcerned by such a possibility. “But
is that really the reputation you want for your species?”
    The Strigoi looked momentarily confused, so
Zander continued. “What with your fresh start, new territory, and
imminent recognition by the Rotham Republic as a member state, your
kind will be at the forefront of galactic attention in no time
flat. Do you really want rumors to spread throughout the galaxy
about how Strigoi don’t pay their debts and instead slaughter
honest traders who try to do business with them? Think what that
would do for your reputation.”
    The Strigoi seemed to consider this for the
better part of a minute and, in that time, Zander stood perfectly
calm, trying to imagine he was a leaf on the wind, an exercise he
often employed when he knew he needed to feign bargaining power he
knew he didn’t have. In this case, it was far more than just profit
that fell on the