clothes than not have a good sidearm. And speaking of clothing…
Sigrid glanced down at the female jacker, tapping her chin. The woman couldn't be much larger than herself. Taller, perhaps, but she was rather on the thin side: all bones and fewer curves. Getting into the black leather pants proved a bit of a trial, but they fit all right, at least once she'd rolled up the cuffs and stuffed them into the tall riding boots. The plastic tank top fit a little more snugly across her bosom than she liked, and it was clearly designed to showcase the woman's impressive set of inkings rather than to conceal for modesty's sake.
Suko would definitely approve.
Sigrid was glad for the bandana; she used that to tie her mop of frazzled hair away from her head. But she was gladder for the armaments the woman carried. Her bowie knife and hideout pistol, along with Bins's recoilless, all fit perfectly in the weapons belt and holster she fastened around her waist and thigh.
When she threw the mid-calf-length riding jacket over her shoulders, Jaffer gave an appreciative whistle.
"You could pass for an honest to goodness jacker."
"Thank you," Sigrid said. Then she added, "I think."
"Here." Jaffer tossed a thick roll of black sealing tape to Sigrid, who caught it one-handed. She didn't need to ask what it was for. The jackers were starting to shift and moan. They would wake soon, and they were certain to be in a foul mood. Using the tape, she set to binding their legs and ankles, though not before Jaffer had stripped Bins and the others of their clothing as well, tossing each article into the ravine. Jaffer seemed to take great pleasure in it, and when it was done, he stood triumphantly over them, his hands squarely on his hips, snickering all the while.
"They'll be none too happy when they awake," Sigrid said.
"Serves 'em right. They'd have done the same to us. Or worse. Come on. Help me with this," Jaffer said as he bent to the task of clearing the chains from the road.
Changing the two mammoth front wheels took longer. It would have been impossible without Jack. "Jack" was the rig's semiautonomous lift-jack. Voice-controlled, it stood nearly as tall as Sigrid and looked like some eight-legged beast out of a clockwork nightmare. She learned quickly to stay out of its lurching path as it worked to strip and apply fresh rubber to the rig's shredded wheels.
Even with the auto-jack, it was backbreaking, sweaty work, but they had fresh rubber in place within the hour. The entire time they worked, Sigrid was very aware of the odd sideways glances Jaffer kept shooting her. Especially when she hoisted and mounted the massive lug nuts back in place. The nuts were two feet in diameter and weighed more than forty kilos, but Sigrid lifted and placed them effortlessly.
When she caught Jaffer staring, she mimed a few quick clean-and-jerks. "I work out."
"Right. All part of your, er, self-defense classes?"
"Mm." Sigrid nodded. "I had a very good instructor."
"Yeah, I can see that."
Lastly, the longspurs were rolled into the ravine. She couldn't risk having them come after them, and they'd delayed here long enough. Bins was fully awake now, and his eyes were wild with fury. He thrashed against his bonds as, one after another, Jaffer and Sigrid sent the sleek longspurs crashing down the cliff side.
Though she stopped before sending the last one over. This one belonged to Bins. She could tell, because someone had scratched the word Bins into the gleaming red metal of the thruster fairing. It was a beautiful machine, powerful and sleek. The power plant had been upgraded, and the front forks had been extended, setting the forward repulsor far out to the front.
Sigrid ran her hand over the sweeping curve of the fuel cell. "Oh, I'll be keeping you."
"Stealing his ride?" Jaffer said, grinning. "I don't think Bins approves. Look, you can see the veins twitching on the side of his face."
"It's not stealing. Consider it compensation—for all our lost