Boundary 2: Threshold (22 page)

A few minutes later they were in one of the alien labs that had been used for what A.J. referred to as "bioforming" and which had been undergoing intense analysis. With whatever emergency was on, though, obviously no one was here now. And if the power came on, the remote location would give them plenty of time to get away before anyone else could possibly arrive. "Good enough. Time to get out of here for good."

Modofori took out Helen's communicator. Jimmy looked apprehensive. "Hey, Leo, won't he track us through that?"

"Probably. Almost certainly, in fact, since to make sure we could communicate with him no matter where we go he's probably had to key up low-power repeaters everywhere. But it took us a while to get here. Even if he can track us right away, he can't
get
here right away. If he's as good as I am at moving around, it'd take him at least half an hour to get here unless he just happened to set up in the area—and since I know where he was working, that'd be really unlikely. More like an hour away."

He put the communicator on one of the workbenches and put the power cell next to it. "Besides, I'm not exactly a slouch at this stuff. I don't doubt he can outdo me, but I can slow him down." From the little case he took another device which linked into his suit's datalink. "Mmm . . . yes, repeaters up. Not as secure as the normal link. I know this model—low power, self-contained, but only basic security on the ID. I can spoof them—make it look like our signal is coming from another location. If he gets suspicious, he'll be able to break through, but I think I'll catch that happening. Anyway, I don't intend to talk too long."

Satisfied, Modofori inserted the power cell, switched the communicator on, and spoke. "Mr. Baker, are you there?"

The little screen lit up immediately. "Yes." A.J.'s eyes were chips of blue-green ice.

"As I respect your abilities, I will not spend much time in conversation. I will talk, and you will listen. Currently you do not know where we are, and if you did you will not reach us before we move elsewhere. You are going to assist us in obtaining the information on fusion technology. You are then going to help us get to the
Hunin
unmolested. So that we may assure ourselves that we are not being ambushed, you will ensure that we have access to the sensors around the
Hunin
. While I am not your equal at sensors, I also assure you that I am capable of telling if you interfere with the actual data coming from the sensors in question, especially with the entire base apparently shut down. Once we are in the
Hunin
and ready to launch we will release your wife. Any deviation from this plan will result first in harm and finally in death for her. You must understand that while I have no interest in harming anyone, I can and will carry out my threats. We are in control in this situation, and you will do precisely as I instruct, unless you do indeed wish me to carry out those threats. Do you understand?"

A.J.'s expression had been impassive. Then it all of a sudden shifted, into a broad grin that somehow had very little humor in it. Even in the small screen, it gave Helen an involuntarily chill. "What I understand is that I don't think I have ever heard anyone manage to be more completely wrong more often in a single speech, even our current president."

One of the larger screens over the nearest research station flickered, causing all of them to jump, and abruptly A.J.'s face, twice life-size, was glaring at the three; even Modofori couldn't restrain a slight gasp. "I
do
know exactly where you are, and it will take me precisely three more minutes to get there. You will find you cannot go anywhere else. I will not assist you in obtaining any information, you are not getting to the
Hunin
, I'm giving you exactly zero access to anything except a jail cell, you wouldn't be capable of telling whether or not I was inventing anything if I told you I was doing it ahead of time, and most importantly"—his voice dropped to a low tone that still somehow carried with it a snarl—"you cannot, and will not, touch Helen, because
I
am in control of this situation, and you will do precisely as I instruct, or else I promise . . ." and suddenly he smiled with just a touch of actual humor as he quoted, ". . . 'You will know pain . . . and you will know fear . . . and then you will die.' "

At a gesture from Modofori, Jimmy grabbed her arm, forcing it up behind her back. "A nice speech, and I see we have less time than I thought. But I can carry out my threat."

A.J. raised an eyebrow. "I find your lack of faith . . . disturbing." His hand raised and gave a small gesture.

Helen felt Jimmy suddenly go rigid behind her. He gave a strangled cry and clawed at his throat. Helen knew she was staring, but doubted that her expression was any more dumfounded than Modofori's. Alex Zaent, his face pale, pulled out a knife and started for Helen. "You cut it out, you son of a—"

Another gesture—a rippling gesture, the one she knew well from A.J.'s use of virtual controls—and Zaent screamed and collapsed, the knife falling from a hand that seemed limp and useless.

Suddenly Helen understood. Yanking off her glove, she looked down at her hand.

Her engagement ring glinted dully next to the bright gold wedding band, its oversized setting empty of anything except air.

Modofori recovered slightly, but his voice shook as he spoke. "How are you . . . ?"

"Ever wonder why a lot of the Faerie Dust technology is restricted? Now maybe you know," A.J. said. "The dust I'm using isn't meant for medical implantation, of course, so it won't last long—but it'll last long enough. It's actually going to take me another few minutes to get there, but I want you to know that I will know
everything
that is happening in that room. If any of you so much as twitches in Helen's direction again, I'll stop your god-damned hearts." The screen went blank. Jimmy, now able to breathe, slowly rolled to hands and knees—away from Helen. The others backed away from her as well.

By the time the door opened a few minutes later, Helen was alone in the center of the room, with the three men against the wall as far away as they could manage. A.J. didn't even look at them; he ran to her and hugged her tightly. "Oh, Jesus, Jesus, Helen, I thought I was going to lose you . . . ," he whispered.

It was such a total change from the lethal man she'd seen on the screen just minutes ago that she just stood there, blinking stupidly, before hugging him back. "I was pretty scared myself," she said quietly. "And you scared the hell out of me just now, too."

"I scared the hell out of myself," he confessed. "I never knew what losing you would do to me until now." Without looking over at the others, he said, "Turn on the dataports on your suits, the three of you." Over his shoulder, Helen saw Modofori's suit suddenly go rigid as steel. "There, that'll hold you for a while. Someone will come down and pick you up in a little bit." He stood slowly. "C'mon, Helen."

"Wait," Modofori spoke. "The Faerie Dust in us?"

"Mostly nonreactive materials. I had to do major tricks to get it to the right places in you so it could do a few one-time zaps to the right nerves. I think your body's defenses will clean it all out just fine in a few days. I'll tell the docs to keep an eye on you until they're sure it's all right." He suddenly met Modofori's eyes. "I didn't want to hurt anyone, you know."

Modofori nodded, about the only movement the locked Tayler suit allowed. "I believe you. Thank you."

"Don't thank me. I'm still hoping someone else wants to hurt you later."

As they left, Helen caught at his arm. "What's going on with the base?"

"The base will be okay," he said. "If Bruce doesn't crash."

Blackness slowly lightened to dim gray shot through with red pain. For a few moments he didn't even attempt to open his eyes, didn't even know who it was that would be doing the opening.

Joe. I'm Joe Buckley.

Joe tried to take a breath, felt knives in his chest and barely restrained a cough. The air was heavy, and cold. He tried to open his eyes, but they wouldn't open at first. Working his face, squinting and frowning and moving all the muscles, he felt something rough and sticky slowly giving. Finally, reluctantly, the eyelids came open, first the left and then the right.

Stars. Stars and dark roughness. Another squint, and he realized the roughness was rock. A lot of rock.
What the hell happened?
He could remember working on the power line for their lab; that was it. Then
boom
—nothing.

There were actual scratches across his visor, now that his vision was clearing. Something had hit him
hard
. Not that his body wasn't already informing him of that. He managed to move enough to get the self-diagnostics running. The suit was a mess, low on power, low on air, and some systems just plain not running. He wasn't in great shape, either. Broken ribs, possible minor internal injuries, concussion . . . 

The comm unit was still active, at least partly. The antenna had been torn away.
Where the hell am I?
"Hello? Anyone there?"

Something suddenly moved in the circle of sky above him, a huge boxy shape of girders, cubes, and angles blazing with sunlight on one side, gliding with slow majesty across and, it seemed, downward. That was ridiculous, though.
Nobel
would have no business down that low, not even on a search-and-rescue for him. He closed his eyes, shaking his head to clear it even though that hurt. When he peeked again, there was no sign of the ship. No one answered his call. He tried to get the suit to boost the power and tried again.

"Hello, anyone there, this is . . ." He almost coughed again. "Joe. Joe Buckley."

Faint but sharp in his ears was the abrupt reply. "Joe?
Joe!
Thank God!"

"Dunno about thanking him, I think he
did
this to me."

"Bloke's right, act of God and all that." Bruce sounded distracted, though happy. "Glad to hear your voice, mate. Getting on a little eleventh-hour for you, if you know what I mean."

"What happened, anyway?"

"One hell of a lot," Maddie answered, unable to quite keep a teary-sounding edge from her voice. "For you, what happened was that a meteor smashed the reactor-control area and blew you . . . somewhere. We think we know the general location now, thanks to Jackie. Can you tell us anything to help narrow it down? Where are you?"

"Meteor? Now I'm getting hit by
meteors
? What, crashing in spaceships isn't good enough? Jesus!" Another breath did cause coughing, which definitely wasn't good. Once he could finally breathe again, he answered the question. "I'm in a hole. Pretty deep. I'm down at least fifty meters, I'd guess."

"That'd explain the diminished signal. And I'll bet there are side passages giving us multipath." That was A.J.'s voice.

"Still, now we know to look only in holes. Can you see the sky from where you are?"

"Yeah, I'm lying on my back looking just about straight up. Can't figure the constellations, though." He hesitated. "Um, the air's getting awfully thick."

There was silence for a moment. "How much air do you have left, Joe?"

"The recycler was kinda damaged, according to the readouts. I guess I have ten, twelve minutes before the stuff gets really unbreathable." When there was no response, he sighed. "Guess you don't have that good an idea where I am, huh?"

"No," Madeline said quietly. "No, Joe, I'm afraid we don't. But we might get lucky."

"I'll be prayin'," Bruce's voice said, seriously. "But I'll have to cut off, gents, because this last part is going to be very, very tricky."

"We understand, Bruce," A.J. said flatly.

Joe bit his lip. Ten minutes, and—"Wait a minute. Last part of
what
?"

"Of landing
Nobel
," Madeline answered. "We can't get the reactor back online right away, and we need power very soon."

"Maddie, look, I saw
Nobel
pass right over me. About . . . call it three to five seconds before you answered me."

"Bruce! Jackie! Did you hear that?"

"I'm on it," Jackie said. "Hold on . . . Got it! Depending on exact angles and times, that gives us . . . this area."

"I see it." A.J.'s voice was energetic once more. "Concentrating all Locusts in the vicinity. Ignore any radio outside of that area. Maddie?"

"Combining with the maps . . . there. It's one of those three."

The faceplate was slightly fogged now, and the air was sharp. He had to fight to prevent himself from gasping. Talking wouldn't be a good idea.

"Joe, hold on. We're—"

The radio went dead at that moment, and all that remained was the very dim lighting of the controls inside the helmet, and the stars, smearing into a mist of fog. And the pain, and breathing thickness . . . and despite all efforts, the world going even darker . . . 

He was falling into pain, redness, cold, more pain . . . sharper pain, as though he was struck, but his chest still ached. But the ache was fading, fading like everything . . . almost gone, into warmer gray nothing. . . . 

Suddenly light blazed through closed eyelids and there was a hissing sound. . . . Pain screamed back into existence with consciousness, but he forced his eyes open, looking through a clearing faceplate into the airlock of
Feynman
and the tear-streaked face of the most beautiful woman in the solar system. "Joe?" she said, voice almost breaking.

He managed a grin. "Hey, it's like I always say. Seeing you is like a breath of fresh air."

Richard Fitzgerald entered Hohenheim's office. "You sent for me, Gener—"

With barely a shift of expression, Hohenheim grabbed Fitzgerald and slammed him against the wall, forcing a grunt of surprised pain from the Irish mercenary. "You complete fool. Do you realize what you have just done?"

Fitzgerald was too startled to reply immediately. He had not expected this violent a reaction, at least not once the operation was over. The general's vehemence had caught him unawares. So did his strength. Hohenheim was tall and broad, but much of that could have been the uniform. Richard realized now that he'd misgauged the man.