Mercenary Courage (Mandrake Company) (20 page)

“What were you doing in that pet store, Mandrake?” Xu asked.

Viktor had anticipated a half a dozen questions, with inquiries about the alien technology chief among them. This hadn’t been on his list.

“Getting lab rats for my microbiologist,” he said, suspecting the truth would sound ridiculous enough that Xu wouldn’t believe him.

The man snorted.

Viktor remained silent. He did not want to give anything away.

“I saw the footage,” Xu said, then his mouth twisted. “Before the news station edited it.”

Nobody had shared the news feed with the prisoners, so Viktor could only guess at what this editing might have entailed. The fact that he was in jail suggested the gist of it.

“Were you the one who told them to edit it?” Viktor asked.

Xu inclined his head. “As your spy has doubtlessly told you, my superiors wished you incarcerated here.”

His Spy. Ankari. As much as Viktor wanted information on her, he would not ask his new enemy for it. He didn’t want Xu thinking about Ankari at all.

“Why?” Viktor asked, though he doubted Xu knew.

Xu lifted a shoulder. “A captain does not question an admiral.”

“Isn’t it great, following orders that you don’t get to question, even if they require you to bend your ethics?” Viktor did not know if Xu’s ethics would be disturbed even remotely by altering what the news reported, but he watched the man’s face closely, in the event that they might. After all, something had brought Xu here, to question and assess Viktor. Viktor doubted that his superiors would have asked him to come, especially if they hadn’t told him why he was taking actions against some random mercenary captain.

“Why did you desert, Mandrake?” Xu asked instead of answering the question.

Normally, Viktor would not respond, especially not on this subject, but he had a niggling hunch that his answer might somehow matter to Xu.

“The Fleet blew up my planet. My family. My friends. My village. The house I grew up in.” Viktor cut himself off, not wanting to show the man that this subject could still make him emotional ten years later. He switched to flippancy, in an attempt to hide his feelings. “Mom, Dad, and I had almost completed assembling our First Colonists Juice Glass Collection. It was inconvenient.”

Xu did not respond. His face was back to unreadable as he gazed at Viktor.

“Where is Commodore Parsons?” Viktor asked, thinking the abrupt topic change might surprise some information—or at least a telling reaction—out of the man.

Xu did lean back slightly, but he merely shook his head. “I’m not familiar with the name.”

Viktor couldn’t tell if that was a lie or not. The Fleet was big, but most of the ship captains knew the other ship captains, at least when it came to vessels the size of heavy cruisers and dreadnoughts. Parsons commanded an Intrepid-class cruiser, and there were only about twelve in the system. It was
possible
Xu hadn’t heard of him, but unlikely.

“He’s the one your superiors should toss in jail. He either has the items they’re looking for, or he has information on who he sold them to.”

Xu kept his face neutral, but Viktor had the impression he wasn’t tracking the conversation. Either Viktor was off on his guess as to what all of this was about or Xu was simply being treated as an errand boy.

“I shall consider your words.”

Xu turned and walked away. Viktor wished he had gained more from the meeting. He was stuck, waiting to see if Borage returned with more useful information. He wanted to see Ankari even more than he wanted to see Borage. She would probably have a whole slew of information, also useful. And she was far more pleasant to look at than he was.

Sighing, Viktor dropped to the floor again, this time for sit-ups, along with further contemplation on the fire sensors.

• • • • •

The decking vibrated beneath Ankari’s feet, air rushed through the maze of ductwork running over her head, and water gurgled as it flowed through the dozens of pipes stretching along the bulkhead at their backs. Giant compost tumblers rumbled on the far wall, barely visible in the dim lighting as they turned the station’s biological waste back into fertile soil. Next to the tumblers, a strange tangle of living foliage and machinery surrounded a sealed container littered with stickers that read “Danger” and “Do Not Touch.” Those stickers weren’t nearly as alarming as the plaque on the front that read
Radioactive Waste Degradation Station
.

Ankari had chosen this level, which was a couple of floors above the laundry room but still below the public areas, as a hiding spot because it was dark and possessed a maze of infrastructure for the station. She hadn’t counted on being irradiated while they hid.

“It’s fine,” Jamie said, waving toward the machinery as she came to crouch beside Ankari in the shadows. “I looked it up. It’s actually quite encouraging. The technodruids found some bacteria that eats radioactive waste, if you can imagine that, so all of the station’s garbage, even what’s left over from fission, gets recycled instead of jettisoned into space. The container is quadruple shielded and can withstand earthquakes and laser cannons without cracking. That’s what the technical manual promises, anyway.” She grinned and waved her tablet.

Ankari wished she could manage a grin. Nothing about this situation was piquing her humor.

Her comm unit beeped, the sound muffled by all of the ambient noises, as well as the thuds, clunks, and hisses echoing from the environmental control room behind the wall. Ankari and Jamie could see the door leading into it from the corner where they hunkered, but a very expensive and very modern security system guarded it, complete with laser beams crisscrossing the air in front of the entrance. That was fine. Ankari had no need to fiddle with the station’s air conditioning.

“Aren’t you going to answer that?” Jamie asked when the unit beeped again.

Ankari sighed and looked at it. “No.”

She had already checked the caller and knew it was her mother. Ankari did not have any idea how much of the Midway 5 news was being broadcast to the system, but she was sure there were enough tidbits in there to keep any relative worrying. And what if the altered footage from the pet-store incident had been broadcast on the general feed? Whichever one of her brothers—she wagered it was Darok—had been researching the mercenaries had probably learned that Viktor was the one Ankari was seeing. And if Viktor had been on the news, being flex-cuffed and dragged away... Yes, her mother would be worrying.

“What if it’s Sergei?” Jamie asked.

“Unless he’s moved in with my mother on Novus Earth, I deem that unlikely.”

“Oh.”

“Besides, Sergei would be more likely to call you.” Ankari hoped that happened soon. Her own attempt to find camera footage of those mafia bullies had failed. Either none of the store owners had published it to the network, or they were being stored behind passwords. If she wanted footage to show somebody, she needed to find that next-door neighbor the Ogilvy woman had mentioned. Li Yanping. Of course, Ankari had not yet figured out who she would show that footage to or how it might help her clear her name, but she was working on that.

“Did you see this?” Jamie shifted her tablet so the holodisplay was visible.

The image of Ankari’s own face stared back at her. “I saw it.”

It was the warrant for her arrest. She had scanned it twice, searching for a line that would proclaim that the security officers were authorized to use deadly force to apprehend her. It wasn’t there. But the warrant stated that she was armed, dangerous, and mendacious. As if all criminals seeking to avoid arrest weren’t mendacious.

“I can’t believe that’s all because of the tablet you took,” Jamie said. “We didn’t even keep it. How much trouble can you get in for temporary theft?”

“On Midway 5, the theft of property of less than one hundred aurums in value comes with a maximum punishment of a one-thousand-aurum fine.” That had been the first thing Ankari had looked up when they settled into their hiding spot.

“No jail time?”

“No jail time. It’s certainly not the kind of thing a security officer is supposed to shoot a person over.”

“So you think something more is going on here?” Jamie asked. “That whoever’s ordering the news feeds altered has altered your warrant too?”

“Possibly. I—”

The sound of voices drifted to them from the other side of the cavernous compost and waste room, so Ankari snapped her mouth shut. They had sent their location to Sergei earlier, but he wouldn’t make noise as he approached, nor would he be bringing anyone else.

Jamie closed down her tablet, and the glow it had been providing disappeared. Darkness embraced them, broken only by tiny green and red indicator lights glowing from the machinery. The slender red beams guarding the door also remained visible. Ankari thumbed the silence on for her comm unit, in case her mother tried calling again.

“There it is,” a male voice said, heard more clearly now that the speakers had moved closer.

The textured metal decking clanked as two people walked across it. At least one of them was on the heavy side.

“That’s an Excelsior Nine system,” the other speaker said, also male. “Looks like they’ve anticipated people messing with the environmental controls.”

The figures came into view, one carrying a bright flashlight, the beam swinging around the chamber and glinting off pipes. Ankari leaned deeper into the shadows, glad she and Jamie had thought to hide behind a control box that thrust up from the floor. Otherwise, that swinging light might have revealed them.

The two men stopped five feet from the door, studying the beams thoughtfully. One was of average size, but the second loomed nearly seven feet tall with massive shoulders and meaty arms—with that build, Viktor would have appeared slight beside him. They both wore nondescript black and brown clothes without anything that suggested a uniform. Laser pistols, knives, and other tools—or weapons—Ankari could not identify hung from their belts.

“Any chance you can get through it? Things would be easier if we could make the lights go off throughout the whole station.”

“Or at least the power on the airlock and clamps holding our ship? Sorry, I want to get out of here as much as you do, but that’s beyond my hacking skills.” The big man tossed something at the laser field in front of the door. With a flash of light, it was incinerated. “You know brute strength is more what I have a knack for.”

Hm, these were probably mercenaries or smugglers who wouldn’t mind breaking a law in order to escape a quarantine. On the chance they might be something more, Ankari risked opening her tablet to the recorder. She stuck her arm out so she could capture images of the men.

“I won’t be offended if you shut down the security system by tearing up a tree and hurling it through the door.”

The big man snorted. “No handy trees growing up here, like in that big park. We’re being recorded too.”

Ankari’s heart lurched. She was certain he had spotted her somehow, even though he had not looked in her direction. But the man pointed at the darkness above the door.

“Camera up there,” he said.

His buddy shrugged. “Won’t be the first time I’ve been recorded this week.” He made a rude gesture at the camera, then sighed and turned around. “Come on. We’re going to have to try something else. There are ten Fleet ships less than two days from the station, and we’re the only people who got caught off-ship and can do anything about it. As the captain pointed out when he was threatening our families.” The man grumbled under his breath. “As if we needed an incentive. I don’t want to be stuck here when the Fleet pulls up next to us.”

“No shit.” The big man followed after him, and their voices faded as they walked away. The last thing Ankari caught was, “Don’t know why the
pakhan
sent us out here
this
week.”

“
Pakhan
?” Ankari whispered after a hatch clanged shut, leaving them alone again. A tendril of anticipation wormed its way into her belly. “Isn’t that what the Russian mafia people call their boss?”

Jamie shrugged. “The Russians didn’t settle on Mercruse, so I’ve never dealt with them. We just had Americans on one continent and Europeans on mine. If you want details on the Italian mafia, I know some of that history, but it’s not relevant to our system—the Europeans were pretty strict about who got aboard the colony ships back on Old Earth.”

“Are you suggesting my ancestors let random mafia thugs into space?” came a dry male voice from the shadows beside them.

Ankari almost dropped her tablet, but Jamie turned around and, without hesitation, flung herself into Sergei’s arms, as if they had been parted for months instead of hours. Maybe being chased through the hospital and shot at had left Jamie feeling the depths of her own mortality.

While they kissed and embraced, Ankari looked up the word
pakhan
and found that her memory had been correct. Maybe those had been the very same men who had threatened the shop owners. At the least, they might be from the same ship. She typed in what she remembered of their brief conversation and ignored the kissing sounds beside her.

Fortunately, Jamie and Sergei soon switched to handholding.

“I have your pictures of the dead bodies,” Sergei said. “They all have bite marks, usually near the head or necks, but one was on the back of the hand and another on the wrist. Here’s a list of the causes of death for the victims.” He held out his tablet and read from his notes, or perhaps some doctor’s notes. “In all cases, their hearts seized up and stopped. The doctors originally thought venom from the animal bites had caused it, but they could not identify the venom, and the victims didn’t die right away. The bites all appear to have happened a day or two before the deaths. Their most recent theory is that whatever attacked these people was carrying a disease, one that might turn out to be transmittable from human to human without bites. That’s the reason for the quarantine.” Sergei lowered his tablet. “From the comments I overheard, I got the impression that none of the doctors on the station have research backgrounds or are the ideal people to be doing this analysis.”