Treasure of Light (The Light Trilogy) (46 page)

CHAPTER 35

A single lamp glowed on Cole Tahn’s desk. The decorative shade, which had a series of holes arranged in geometric patterns, cast a polka-dotted glow over his cabin, landing like luminescent opal beads across Carey’s taut face. She’d awakened him out of a sound sleep, demanding he get up. Though he’d pulled on his wrinkled uniform, his bare feet tingled from cold. He frowned at her. She had her auburn hair fastened over each ear—a new look for her: softer, more feminine. It made him damned well nervous.

“Well?” he demanded. “Did you come to have a discussion with me or am I supposed to carry on a monologue?”

She propped hands on her hips as she paced. “How are you?”

“Tired. What’s wrong?”

“The crew’s going out of their minds with anxiety and I thought seeing you would give me some ideas of how to deal with them.”

“Uh-huh.” He eyed her askance. “This picture’s a little sketchy. Want to fill it in for me?”

Her gaze darted to each place in his cabin where monitoring devices existed. He leaned back in his desk chair, disgusted. “Of course, I’ve disconnected the monitors, Carey. And I made certain again only a half hour ago. So, speak your mind.”

Her eyes took on that icy calculating look he was so familiar with. He felt better. “I got word through Macey that Millhyser has an interesting gift for you.”

“What gift?”

She smiled. “She found Neil Dannon crawling around in the guts of the weapons systems. Knowing you wanted him, she hid him.”

“He’s alive?”

“Very.”

Cole closed his eyes a moment, thanking nameless deities. The former second in command of the Underground fleet, Dannon could prove to be a deciding factor. He knew Baruch like the back of his hand.

“I’ve got to meet with him.” His mind raced and his gaze slid to the duct.
You’ll only be able to use it once. Is Dannon worth it?
Through a tense exhalation, he said, “I guess it’s time to use our last ace.”

“I agree.”

Quickly, she strode across his cabin and leaned over him, accessing the com unit on his desk. He swiveled in his chair, watching the herringbone structure of the
Hoyer’s
duct system appear on the screen. She pointed to a series of interconnected passageways.

“This looks like the best route. You see, here and here. It’ll take you about half an hour to reach fourteen C, and it’ll be a tight squeeze for you, but I think—”

“I think so, too. But….”

“What?”

He straightened, holding his breath. “I don’t know. I’ve got an uneasy feeling about this.”

“You mean like it’s a setup?” She shook her head vehemently. “Dannon’s been crawling through the ship’s deepest recesses for days—trying to stay out of Baruch’s sight after that near-miss on level twenty. In fact, he’s terrified of the possibility that Baruch recognized him. I don’t think he did, but Dannon—”

“That’s not what I meant. No, it’s—it’s something else. Something about the monitoring system. The freedom Baruch’s given me to plot in my cabin has a reason. And why hasn’t he sealed the duct system from me, hmm?”

“Either because he doesn’t know it’s open—or because he expects you to use it.”

“Maybe he hopes I’ll lead him to his ex-best friend?”

“Impossible. No one can monitor the ducts or the weapons niches. There’s no system—”

“There may not be a system, but if there’s a way, he’ll have found it. Something simple, something we’re not thinking straight enough to pick up on.”

She shifted uncomfortably. “Do we have a choice? I can get a message to Millhyser to put Dannon on hold if you think it’s too risky.”

“No.” He squeezed the bridge of his nose. “We haven’t much time. I have to talk to him. We’ll work fast. Can you keep Baruch busy while I’m meeting with Dannon.”

“Of course.” She started for the door.

He got to his feet and reached for his boots. “Carey?”

She turned back, fixing him with a piercing, impatient look, as though she was anxious to be off. “What?”

“I don’t care what you have to do, but don’t take any unnecessary risks. Just keep his guard down and yours up long enough for me to have a healthy talk with Dannon. Remember, Baruch may seem like a nice guy, but he’s as dangerous and unpredictable as they come.”

“Thanks for the reminder.” She threw him an impertinent smile and left.

Striding back to his com unit, he studied the diagrams once more time. He couldn’t risk running a printout. If he were apprehended, he didn’t want to implicate anyone else in his activities. Memorizing the sequence of interconnecting passageways, he got on his stomach and crawled beneath his bed.

Removing the rectangular duct covering, he set it aside and slithered into the semidarkness of the tunnel.

Neil Dannon paced the dim cubicle unsteadily, arms folded across his chest as he listened to the machinery that hummed quietly around him. Six Magisterial science officers spoke in low tones about the
Hoyer’s
predicament, but he barely heard.

He passed a shiny bulkhead and caught sight of his reflection. His chalky face ran with sweat, gluing strands of his jet black hair to his temples and cheeks. The stark terror in his eyes took even him by surprise. He looked like a frightened cat, ready to claw anything to shreds to get out of its trap.

“Dannon.”

“What?” he demanded irritably.

Millhyser, a pudgy blonde with an ugly bulbous nose pointed to a chair. “Sit down. You’re making me nervous. Tahn will be here any minute.”

“I don’t take any goddamn orders from you! Leave me alone!”

She threw up her hands and turned away, going back to her discussion with Paul Urquel, weapons specialist.

Neil paced for a time longer, then reluctantly dropped into a formatting chair. His stomach ached so violently he could barely swallow without feeling it might come back up. In defense, he leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees and burying his face in his hands.

He felt like a cloth that had been wrung out so hard and so often all the threads had severed, leaving a tattered remnant so flimsy it was no good to anybody anymore. He’d been thinking about Baruch and the refugees so much that he felt ill.
I know you recognized me, Jeremiel. Why haven’t you taken any action to apprehend me? What strategy are you working on?

He dropped his hands and folded his arms over his stomach, rocking back and forth to still the writhing pangs.

“Here he comes,” someone whispered.

All the Magisterial officers straightened. Neil listened and could hear faint whisperings of movement from the cooling duct behind Millhyser. She knelt and quietly removed the covering, setting it canted against the wall.

Murmurs of excitement went through the crew when Tahn’s face and shoulders appeared. Two lieutenants helped pull him out and for a few moments, the cubicle became a bustling center of embraces and hard handshakes. As always, the crew’s eyes glowed in Tahn’s presence, confident smiles lighting faces that had been taut and worried only seconds before. Only one man eyed Tahn with distrust.

“Corsica,” Tahn whispered, “you’ve checked this place thoroughly?”

“Aye, sir. There’s no way Baruch could have tapped this section without us knowing.”

Tahn straightened his purple uniform, brushing dust from the gold braid on his shoulders. “Good. We have to make this fast, people. Let’s get to work.”

When that tough blue-violet gaze fell on him, Neil stiffened instinctively. Tahn walked forward, scrutinizing the grime that covered Neil’s torn black robe.

“Dannon, how are you?”

He almost laughed. “As well as can be expected given the circumstances, Tahn.”

“You still want to help us capture Baruch?”

He clenched his hands into fists in his lap. He’d never really wanted to do that. He’d just wanted to stop the senseless killing by the Underground. “Yes.”

Tahn heaved a tense breath and began pacing before him, hands on his hips. “Let me sketch the situation for you. We’ve got about five thousand Gamant civilians on board, refugees from Horeb. The—”

“I know. Jeremiel’s concentrated them on levels thirteen through eighteen.”

Tahn glared, but nodded. “Correct. The Magistrates recently scorched Abulafia and they’ve initiated a planet-wide suppression action on Tikkun which we’ve been ordered to assist in.”

Neil swallowed the bile that rose into his throat. “And you want to know… ?”

“What’s Baruch liable to do?”

“Where’s the Underground fleet?”

“The government cornered and destroyed half of it around Abulafia. As to the other half, we don’t know. We suspect they’re on their way to Sector Four, probably the Lysomian system.”

Neil’s eyes widened.
Half the fleet? Oh, God. Which friends? Which ones?
Maybe that’s why Slothen had started hitting Gamant planets so hard—to force the Underground to split its fleet, to spread its resources too thin. That would never have happened if Jeremiel had been there. He’d have never let Rudy make such an error. “When did Jeremiel leave for Kayan?”

“Two months after the Silmar battle.”

Neil’s lungs burned so that it hurt to breathe. “All right, listen. Rudy will have given Jeremiel a couple of months freedom. Anybody who knows him understands the-way his gut works. He would have needed a minimum of two months to recover from—from Syene’s death.”

“So?”

“It means you’d better hurry.” He slowly lifted his eyes to meet Tahn’s cool gaze. Dirt streaked the captain’s neck, highlighting the tendons bulging from strain.

“What do you mean?”

“Rudy will have been looking for Jeremiel for two months now. When he received no answer to his dattrans, he’d have gone crazy with worry. He—”

“He’s on his way, you mean.” Tahn stopped pacing and ran a hand through his brown hair.

“I suspect Kopal’s close enough to Horeb to smell you, Tahn.”

“All right, give it to me quick. What’s Baruch’s strategy likely to be?”

“I—I don’t….” He exhaled anxiously, trying to think like Jeremiel. “He’ll probably head this ship for Tikkun to keep the Magistrates thinking you’re still in control. He’ll be betting on Rudy’s eleventh hour appearance. But. …” He paused, worrying. “He’ll want to be rid of the Horebians before he gets into a firelight. So he’ll be trying to figure some place to put them ashore.”

“There’s nothing between here and Tikkun, not if he takes a straight shot, and any veering off established spaceways will alert the Magistrates that something’s wrong on the
Hoyer.”

“So, he’ll probably be thinking he has to find a place on Tikkun where the civilians will be safe.” He briskly massaged the back of his tense neck. “Is there still a place on Tikkun that’s untouched by the Magistrates?”

“How the hell would I know? You were born there.” Tahn grimaced, grinding his teeth.

Neil glared at him. “Maybe some of the islands off the continent of Yihud. The Sacla Seven islands. They’re small, isolated way stations with very few people living on them. Mostly old Gamants who stick unwaveringly to the traditional life. Have you established military installations in that vicinity?

Tahn pointed sternly at Millhyser. “Next time you get access to the computer, check. I want to know immediately.”

“Yes, sir. I have a teaching session in five hours. Fifty Gamants will be breathing down my neck, but they’re so inexperienced with com units I doubt they’ll realize what I’m doing.”

“Good. Let me know as soon as you can.”

“Aye, sir.”

Tahn nodded approvingly at her, then shoved his hands in his pockets and resumed pacing. “We’ve been ordered to rendezvous with Brent Bogomil and the
Jataka
in two weeks standard—”

“No, no. I—I don’t think Jeremiel will wait that long. He’ll want to get rid of the civilians as quickly as he can and he’ll need to do a recon of the planet before he knows where to set them down safely. He’ll want a thorough look at Tikkun to know what he’s up against.”

“That’s assuming the Underground fleet doesn’t find us first,” Tahn muttered sarcastically.

Neil couldn’t help it, he laughed. “If Kopal contacts Jeremiel before we arrive at Tikkun, you’ve lost, Tahn. And very likely every Magisterial installation on Tikkun will get wasted before you can blink.” A grim sense of pride surfaced. Pride in Kopal’s abilities, his one-time good friend. Pride for the fleet, filled with people he’d loved. But that sense soon vanished, replaced by a confusing gnashing in his chest like tiny teeth eating him from the inside out.

“Captain?” Millhyser thoughtfully caressed her ugly chin. A gleam of hope sparked in her eyes. “If we get to Tikkun within the week, and Baruch off-loads—”

“Yes, at least we’ll have fighting space—though I imagine Baruch will want at least five hundred of his trainees to stay on board—in case Bogomil is uncooperative. Does that sound reasonable, Dannon?”

“Of course. Jeremiel would never give you a numbers advantage.”

“All right, our job today is to work out the basics of three different contingencies. First, we’ll plan for an intership battle. Second, we’ll try to figure a way of notifying Tikkun’s military of our problems and requesting assistance. Third, we’ll strategize the outcome if Bogomil can give us aid. Baruch will certainly surrender if he knows cannons are centered over his very heart and those of his people. Then—”