Vigilante (31 page)

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Authors: Laura E. Reeve

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BOOK: Vigilante
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A henchman in the doorway said something sharp in another language.
Tahir nodded and grabbed her upper arm. She winced.
“If you’re going to drag me around and make me run a ship, how about
untying my hands?” She kept her tone flippant and, not surprisingly, Tahir’s eyes narrowed with
suspicion.
“Don’t bother,” said the Autonomist henchman. “I’m piloting.” He pointed
a stunner at her. He was too close, but if she jumped him, the men in the corridor would ensure
there’d be no escape.
“Careful, Julian.” Tahir motioned him back.
“There’s no need to bring her along, and you’d better not endanger this
mission.” Julian’s accent carried the nasal vowels of New Alexandria, an Autonomist world. “I
don’t give a shit about your retribution voodoo.”
“But Abram does.” Tahir ended the conversation. He cut the quick-tie,
and she nearly yelped from the pain in her shoulders. He retied her hands, this time in front
of her. As he tightened another quick-tie around her bruised wrists, he added, “Your
cooperation isn’t necessary for justice, but it aids in your salvation.”
She grimaced.
Thank Gaia I don’t have to pretend to
join these idiots—but I could have done without the quick-tie.
Parmet didn’t stir once during this process, and their captors no longer
seemed worried about him. When they opened the door and escorted her out, Julian glanced back
and shrugged. They turned a tight thirty-degree corner and there was the beginning of the
tunnel to the elevator. A familiar figure waited at the first airlock: Emery.
“Why the surprise, Cousin? You knew you’d never be entrusted with this
mission.” His tone was mocking.
“I know.” Tahir’s voice was quiet, but Ariane saw ligaments stand out on
his neck. “But I thought Abram would be sending his
best
man for
this mission.”
Emery’s face twisted in a snarl.
“Cut it out, you two.” Julian kept the younger men on track, as he
pushed Ariane forward.
They went through two temporary airlocks and a wide tunnel with an
arched ceiling, before they arrived at the elevator to Beta Priamos Station. The lights along
the elevator door frame flickered as each person stepped in, and the panel displayed, FOUR
PERSONS RIDING. ADD ADDITIONAL BAGGAGE BELOW OR PRESS START FOR LIFT CALCULATION.
Emery viciously punched START with his finger. The elevator jerked a
little as it started moving, and then displayed its arrival time calculation.
“What’s the matter with this thing? We should be able to get there in
three hours.” Emery was obviously smarting from Tahir’s comment as he commanded the elevator to
adjust its lift. “Yes, I authorize more weight, you stupid thing!”
“Strap in, everyone,” Julian said.
Ariane quickly looked away from the elevator’s controls over to Tahir,
who was watching her somberly. Tahir had more schooling than Emery; would he notice that the
elevator indicated it had to lift more than four hundred
extra
pounds? It was compensating, approximately, for the weight of two people in EVA suits.
“Three hours, minimum time,” muttered Emery. He wasn’t paying attention
to
why
he had to keep adjusting the lift.
Tahir kept watching her, so she moved to sit on a bench away from the
others and more important, away from the elevator panel. She sat, letting the self-tightening
webbing form about her.
“At last.” Emery strapped in.
Emery and Julian were probably thinking about their glorious suicide
mission. Tahir might be wondering how he would get her cooperation, perhaps for a last-minute
N-space drop. She glanced at the panel, which had darkened, and placed her hope in the extra
weight riding on the outside of the elevator.
Maria said the frequencies used by their suits could be monitored by
their comm center, which had been overrun by the men Joyce privately called the “crazies.”
Because of this, they used no comm, other than hand signals and the vacuum-rated slate Maria
was carrying.
This is the fucking
stupidest
thing I’ve ever done
. After another bout of swearing with no audience, Joyce
turned and gave the thumbs-up acceptance wave to Maria. This was their third and last
try.
It was idiotic wandering around in an unarmored civilian environmental
suit when there were crazies about with flechette weapons. If this were a military mission
using the proper equipment, he’d have a military-grade, self-sealing suit that sported
exoskeleton-supported armor. He’d also have spread-spectrum chaotically encrypted
communications support. Instead, here he was, hiding from hostiles on the surface of a moon
without atmosphere, in a civilian suit made of the same stuff as self-sealing drink and food
packs.
Like I’m a fucking sandwich
.
Joyce sighed. They’d already tried this twice: They got suited up and
cycled out the airlock, made their way to the elevator structure, crawled through the access
gantry, then waited until their air supply fell below the threshold needed to get to Beta
Priamos Station. At that point, they reversed the trip, went back through the Builders’
airlock, and got full tanks.
This time, if they went back, there were no filled tanks waiting for
them. They could fill previously used tanks, although Maria said that would take them past the
comm center. It was unlikely the crazies would allow the two of them to lug tanks past that
area without questions, or violence.
The twilight outside had deepened, but he could still see by the glow of
Laomedon’s edge. Maria had warned him that Priamos, tidally locked with its face toward
Laomedon, would soon be going behind the huge gas giant and losing the warmth and light of the
sun. They had to feel their way along the ridgeline that marked the upper part of the Builders’
ruins. Maria didn’t want to chance using their helmet spotlights, so she led while Joyce
followed the dim controls on her arm.
Once again, they crawled through the maintenance gantry and made
themselves comfortable. They were on the elevator’s outside crate that collared a cable long
and strong enough to reach the station, courtesy of carbon nanotube manufacturing. They waited
for somebody to use the elevator, causing the internal cargo hold to push through its airlocks
and slide into the crate.
They calculated they had approximately an extra hour of air beyond what
they needed for the long trip up to the station. Joyce checked that his alarm was set
correctly, then settled into his snoozing spot. He had carefully selected this resting place,
near a smooth wall, considering the fragility of the civilian EVA suits. No sharp edges, thank
you very much.
He thought he’d just sat down when his alarm went off. His eyes flew
open and he squinted at the heads-up display in his visor. An hour had already passed; Gaia, he
must be tired. How long had it been since his last sleep cycle? He should have taken some
bright, but he hadn’t brought extra doses with him down to the moon.
You
didn’t prepare—sloppy work will get you killed, Joyce
.
Maria was gesturing, indicating there was activity below. He got to his
feet, not easily done in these civilian suits, and stepped close. She held out the slate and he
put the contact on his glove onto the pad for local secure communication.
“Someone’s loading the internal elevator,” she said, her voice sounding
strange from the compression algorithms.
“Our extra hour’s up. It might be safer to go back.”
“We’ve got a leeway of ten minutes.”
“We’ve got an
error
of plus or minus ten
minutes,” he said. “Can your lungs handle the minus side?”
“I can do this.” With that, she pulled the slate away. She put it on her
upper arm, where self-tightening webbing secured it. Then she carefully stepped over the
crosspiece at the edge of the enclosure and onto the elevator crate.
Joyce followed. They secured themselves to the crate by lying down
between raised struts and using webbing that came with the suits. He hoped that whoever was
riding or transporting cargo on this thing didn’t dawdle.
After hesitating during the initial hookup, the crate moved quickly
enough to satisfy him. As the crate rose out of the cradle, he didn’t want to look up at the
tiny station above because he thought it’d give him vertigo. However, looking at the dark side
of the hulking gas giant, Laomedon, made the elevator feel puny and his perch even more
dangerous. Space wasn’t any better; anyone who’d been in vacuum looking out into the dark
expanses knew that such contemplation would eventually shrivel the soul.
So he turned and looked at the struts, admiring the nano manufactured,
ultrapure steel. He focused on the heads-up time display: more than two hours to go. He could
continue to marvel upon the advances of material science—he snorted—or he could sleep. Reaching
awkwardly to his wrist control, he set an alarm to wake him before the crate slid into the
station.
 
The elevator ride up to Beta Priamos Station was unbearably long and yet
much shorter than Ariane hoped. Luckily, it was quiet and the men left her sitting alone with
her thoughts.
She leaned her head back, closed her eyes, and tried to plan.
Unfortunately, she wasn’t good at this thing called planning. Matt, like all her supervisors,
said she was good in a crunch. Her military commanders had called her “quick thinking” and
“coolheaded under stress,” but no one praised her planning or strategic thinking.
With planning came uncertainty, gnawing at the back of her brain. If she
let it grow, the only place she could silence the sound of her disintegration would be at the
bottom of a bottle. There were no bottles here, and no place to hide from her
responsibilities.
You think too much
, Joyce said. He was
right. These idiots who followed Abram had no idea of the hell they were about to unleash upon
G-145. Her resolve hardened.
They also have no idea what
this
Destroyer of Worlds will do to prevent another TD detonation
. She’d
take the entire station out in a ball of fire, if she could.
How’s that
for an arc of retribution?
She glanced quickly at Emery, noting that he alone wasn’t
dozing.
She closed her eyes. They were approaching Beta Priamos; she felt the
odd effects of its gravity generator above them and her webbing squirmed and tightened. She
didn’t have a plan yet. She opened her eyes and saw Emery staring at her.
“What the hell,” muttered Julian as he reached for a barf bag. Luckily
for all of them, it was self-sealing and clung to his face as he started to vomit.
“Still getting your space stomach in shape, Julian?” She ladled on the
fake concern. “Perhaps you shouldn’t be piloting this important mission.”
Julian snarled something that might have been “Fuck you.”
“Sorry, can’t hear you.”
“Stop it, Major,” Tahir said.
Emery looked amused, but his attention was on the docking display. They
felt the interior elevator car disengage from the crate with the carbon nanotube cable. The
elevator car moved toward its airlock in the ring.
“Time to go,” Emery said. The door opened and he checked the passageway
with his pistol ready. He motioned for them to disembark.
The station seemed as deserted as before, but Ariane figured it was,
nominally, under isolationist control. She wondered briefly about Joyce; had he made it back to
Aether’s Touch
? There was also that extra weight the elevator
carried, but since no one had rushed out of the elevator maintenance bay to rescue her, she
couldn’t waste time worrying about whoever or whatever had hitched a ride.
Emery and Julian went in front, their weapons ready. Ariane walked
behind them, followed by Tahir. She gained a little hope from their caution, since it might
mean they didn’t have the entire station locked down.
The elevator docked on ring five, but the class C docks were located on
ring three. When they went through the connecting tubes and entered ring three, Ariane was
pleased to see Emery turn to the right. He’d lead them right past
Aether’s
Touch
.
She noticed the men were unused to station gravity and the curvature of
the floor. Their footsteps were hesitant, sometimes stuttering. She’d have to plan this right,
because she wasn’t intending to escape. Slowly, in preparation, she shortened the distance
between her and the men in front of her.
When they had almost passed the corridor to the slip, she darted and
brushed by Emery.
“Stop her!” Tahir yelped.
Emery reacted quickly by tripping her. She went sprawling toward the
cam-eye connected to
Aether’s Touch
. With her hands tied in front
of her, she softened the fall. She managed to mouth her message before his boot came down hard
on her back. Then, as he grabbed her collar and hauled her back toward the other men, she
mouthed her message again.
“Is that your ship?” Tahir asked.

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