Zenith Point (The Sector Fleet, Book 4)

by Nicola Claire

  I straightened my dress and glanced around. No one had seen us. My eyes landed on Armstrong. Even in civvies, he looked like a lieutenant.

  “Relax,” I muttered, taking the lead. “This is not officer country.”

  Hugo offered me a grin.

  The observation deck was humming with low-level conversations. They weren’t loud, but they were filled with tension. Something had the crowd worried, and it wasn’t the allowance they’d been suddenly given. I pushed through the throng, aware Johnson and Armstrong had held back. Hugo was right behind me. I searched faces until I recognised one.

  Near the big windows, staring out into space, an anxious look on her features.

  “Mandy,” I whispered as I came alongside her. And then all words were lost as I realised what everyone was looking at.

  Miles and miles of space boulders. My mind wouldn’t allow me to work out a scale. The closest asteroid looked to be the size of a skyscraper sitting on more than a few city blocks. The ones farther away looked smaller, but distance was hard to estimate.

  All I knew was we were in the middle of it all. Surrounded by huge chunks of rock that could bump into us at any moment.

  “That can’t be good,” I said just as Mandy turned to look at me and let out a shocked gasp.

  She hid it well. Wrapping me up in a hug and whispering in my ear, “Are you mad? They search for you daily. There’s even a reward.”

  “Another one,” I said dryly.

  Mandy scowled and tugged me away from the awe-inspiring and conversely frightening window. I followed dutifully until we were at the back of the crowd and then kept on following until Mandy dragged me into a corner booth. She shoved me into the back of it out of direct sight. Then sat down beside me. And was immediately followed by Hugo, Johnson and Armstrong sitting on the other side.

  Mandy stilled. She looked first at Hugo and then at the other two officers.

  And then she muttered, “Fucking great, Adi. Their faces are all over the vidcomms.”

  Armstrong blanched, Johnson swore softly. Hugo just ducked his head and tried to look unconcerned.

  And then the gel walls pulsed red and Aquila said, “Red alert. Red alert. Return to your quarters. This is not a drill. Mayday. Mayday. Brace. Brace. Brace. You get the picture. Lockdown has commenced.”

  “Shit,” Hugo muttered.

  “Come on,” Mandy said. “At least we’ll be out of sight of the mercs.”

  What mercs, I thought. We hadn’t seen any. But as Mandy led us into the centre of the crowd, and forced me to duck my head, glaring at the others to follow suit, I wondered if my father had had the same idea as us. And dressed his security detail in civilian clothes, hoping to catch us.

  I bit my nail and hunched my shoulders. Aware that Hugo had stepped closer, rubbing his shoulder against mine in a show of support.

  No matter what, we were in this together. It was a strangely comforting thought.

  Thirty

  This Had Supernova Written All Over It

  Hugo

  There were mercs in the crowd, I was sure of it. We’d walked into a trap, and the AI had spotted us. Why else call a red alert right at that second? I hadn’t had long enough to see much of the asteroid field out of the window, but it looked as though we’d been stationary.

  But I realised then that the main boost thrust was spooling because I could feel the vibrations which had been missing recently through my feet.

  Corvus?

  I hadn’t caught a glimpse of the AU vessel out of the observation windows. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t out there and about to fight back. I couldn’t tell if that was excitement I felt churning in my gut or terror. If Corvus fired on us, would we survive it?

  But I was grateful for the respite. If Price’s men were in the crowd, it wasn’t them spotting us that had caused Aquila to announce a red alert. We were bracing for manoeuvres.

  “Move along,” the AI said. “Nothing to see here. Move along.”

  The creepy bastard was using pop culture and colloquialisms. It wasn’t enough that Price was using the AI to manipulate and monitor people, he had to go and make the machine crazy. This Aquila was definitely Crazy Aquila. I shuddered to think what he’d say next.

  The vessel thrummed beneath us, as hundreds of people pushed through the central hub toward their respective cabins. I kept expecting a tap on the shoulder or a plasma rifle butt to the side of my head. I wouldn’t have put it past Price’s mercs to just fire on the crowd to get to us. I could only hope not killing his daughter was still high on the leaseholder’s list.

  We were bounced from side to side as we trailed after the surprisingly militant florist. She elbowed through the crowd without so much as an apology; back straight, steps measured, eyes darting. I was sure she missed nothing. There was something about her that did not say ‘Designs floral arrangements for a living.’ I thought perhaps it was more along the lines of ‘Kills mercs in her spare time and then eats their hearts for breakfast.’

  Adi had made friends with this woman?

  I glanced at Johnson. He was staring daggers at the back of the florist’s head. Yeah. She was ex-military. He thought so too. Why the hell had she not been seconded to security? Flowers, I thought. What a load of rubbish.

  The crowd reached a bottleneck and we were all pushed up against each other. Those behind pushed into those in front and in the process, people started to panic. I almost shouted at everyone to stay calm, but I didn’t want to draw undue attention to myself. Mandy, though, had no such worries. She stuck two fingers in between her lips and let out a piercing whistle.

  “We all want to live,” she shouted. “Stop being assholes about it.”

  I slowly turned my head and arched my brow at Johnson. He shook his head back at me.

  Who the hell were we following?

  “Tick tock,” Aquila offered eerily. “Tick tock. Tick tock. The mouse ran up the clock. Oh, and by the way, brace.”

  The ship shuddered. Artificial gravity gave out and then in the next second returned, making everyone groan and clutch their nauseated stomachs. Outside, someone, probably Corvus, had just fired on us. It wasn’t as bad as the hit we’d taken that had affected the gel walls. But whatever it was, we’d felt it. I could only imagine what was going on out there in the asteroid belt.

  The thought of all those rocks hanging suspended in the void of space waiting for us to collide with them made me more nauseated than the artigrav giving out sporadically.

  We finally made our way past the bottleneck into a cabin passageway. The gel walls dimmed as the ship took another hit. People were screaming, calling out for their loved ones. It was a lesson in humility. On the bridge, this sort of thing was so far removed. But to witness their fear, to not know what was actually happening; I felt it along with the pay-for-passages. If I got out of this, I thought, it’d make me a better officer in the long run.

  We made our way toward the end of the corridor, the space becoming less and less dense with panicked people. Mandy, Adi’s interesting friend, swiped her wrist comm on a door like all the others, and then stood aside, waving us inside of it. I felt like I was back at military school. I double-timed it into the spartan interior and almost stood at attention waiting for the commanding officer to enter behind us.

  The door slid shut, the screams and wails subsided, the ship rocked, but it was just background noise now. Mandy relaxed slightly. Still army. Still a little scary. Still the biggest threat to us right at that moment.

  “Introductions,” she said, crossing to the small kitchenette.

  This was where we told her everything and put our trust in a complete stranger. A stranger that undoubtedly knew one hundred ways to kill us. But we’d come here for a reason. We needed more numbers. I flicked a glance at Adi and then spoke up.

  “Hugo Tremblay,” I said, missing off the captain bit. Cowardly? I preferred to think of it as strategic. A need to know basis. And this woman did not need to know yet.

/>   “So, you’re the new captain,” she said, leaning against the food synthesiser.

  So much for my strategic plans.

  “And you two?” Mandy said looking at Johnson and Armstrong. She eyed them as though she was inspecting them for potential weaknesses. She probably was. Both men stood a little straighter.

  “Lieutenants Johnson and Armstrong, ma’am,” Johnson said. “First shift. Bridge.”

  I sighed and shook my head.

  “Relax, guys,” I muttered. “She’s a civilian, not your commanding officer.”

  Mandy smiled. It was all teeth.

  “Ex-military?” I asked. She nodded her head. “How the hell did you slip through the cracks?” I demanded.

  Adi looked from one person to the other, eyes wide and pulse jumping. I couldn’t reassure her yet. I was hardly reassured myself. And all my attention was definitely for the mystery woman whose lair we’d just entered.

  “Ex-marine,” she said levelly. Not beating about the bush, then. Was that good or bad? “CIA,” she added. “Counter Terrorist Centre supervisor. National Clandestine Services.”

  She was a spook. A spook with a background in guns. A head spook, I corrected, with a background in guns.

  Outstanding.

  I smiled at her; all teeth. She smiled back with bigger and sharper teeth.

  “Took your time,” she said. “I’ve been wondering when you’d get here.”

  “Sorry for making you wait,” I offered. “We had a few difficulties to overcome.”

  “The brig? I hear that was a doozy.”

  “Wait,” Adi said, hands on hips, lips pressed into a thin line. She looked cute. “You mean to tell me you’re…you’re…”

  “Not a florist,” Mandy offered. “Couldn’t you tell? That’s why I let you do all the designing.”

  “But…but…”

  “Relax, kid,” Mandy said. I wanted to facepalm myself. Way to alienate someone; call them a kid. I might think Adi was cute and waif-like and mine to protect. But I’d never say that to her face. I knew my limits.

  And hers.

  “So, what?” Adi growled, almost as good as Ratbag when we teased him with a bit of food back in the pit. “You weren’t really my friend after all?”

  Ah, shit, I thought, wanting to reach for her.

  Mandy, for her part, looked stunned.

  “I…” she started but didn’t finish.

  I could have let her flounder. I could have rushed to Adi and offered a hug. I did neither. Both women would not have thanked me. So, I did what I did best. I thought about the tactical implications. And I put us back on track.

  “Who put you onboard and what can you do to help us?” I said.

  Mandy let out a breath of air, looking at Adi for a moment longer. Adi turned away and sat down in a chair in the corner, looking at no one. Finally, the spook looked at me.

  “We need to talk,” she said.

  Hell yes, we needed to talk. This was big. Bigger than us.

  This had supernova written all over it.

  Thirty-One

  Let’s Do This

  Adi

  It was a kick to the gut. I felt as if I was breathing through a straw. Couldn’t quite catch my breath. Didn’t feel like each laboured inhale was oxygenating me enough.

  Mandy wasn’t really a friend.

  I didn’t know what she was actually. She’d said CIA. But that didn’t make any sense. And especially not now when my mind and heart were aching painfully with thoughts and feelings I’d thought I’d stopped experiencing finally.

  In a remote way, I knew my father had a lot to answer for. I’d lost so many friends when my mother had died. When he’d killed her. And making friends afterwards had been impossible with his security detail always there scowling. I’d felt so alone. Ratbag was all I’d had left to me. As much as I’d wanted to hate my father’s gift, I’d desperately clung to the puppy.

  My hands felt empty right now with no dog to pet. For so long now, Ratbag had been my friend, my companion, my therapy canine. He’d given me the unconditional love my father had failed to provide. Without him, I didn’t know how to handle this revelation. I didn’t know how to function when faced with such a heavy blow to my body and mind.

  “The agency caught wind of a joint leaseholder fleet-wide coup,” Mandy was saying.

  Was that even her name? She’d clearly faked her bio to get onboard, so there’s no way she would have used her real name.

  “It was too close to launch to do anything but buy passage,” she said. “And even that was out; the top tiers all taken. So, we did what we had to do to get someone onboard.”

  “You mean you replaced the real Mandy the Digital Florist,” Hugo said deadpan.

  My body shuddered with the implications. This was such a foreign world to me and yet I’d been raised on a battlefield. I’d been hardened by my experiences, none of which aided me here.

  “We couldn’t get to any of the leaseholders,” the not-Mandy said. I noticed she’d ignored Hugo’s statement. “And there wasn’t a better fit. Who would think to look at the florist?” she said.

  “Yeah,” Hugo muttered. “And Adi?”

  I jerked in my seat. I didn’t dare look at Hugo, and I couldn’t bring myself to look at Mandy.

  “Adi,” she said.

  I thought perhaps she was watching me. I kept my head down and eyes averted. I didn’t want to see the laughter in her gaze. The knowledge that she’d duped me. I’d been a tool. Nothing more. The many times she’d asked me about my life, about what it was like living with a leaseholder. About what my dad did all day.

  It had been a lie.

  “I needed Adi to keep an eye on Nathan,” Mandy said, confirming everything. My fists bunched. But I kept myself resolutely still otherwise. No need to draw attention. “Like I said, getting near the leaseholder is hard. I couldn’t seduce him. He has nothing to do with the pay-for-passages, and although his mercs are more malleable, they’re kept on a short leash. Adi was my only way in.”

  That first day I’d walked into the Habitat Two central hub and looked at all the stalls. It had been an act. A performance. The florist who’s digital designs had all been wiped in some unexpected glitch. Mandy had been ranting and raving, slamming her hand into her viewscreen. She’d even looked like she might start crying.

  Livelihood. That’s what she’d called it. “This is my livelihood,” she’d wailed. “Without it, I’m as good as dead.”

  I couldn’t walk past that. I knew some code. My school had been the best in the country. They made sure they prepared us for all the privileges in life, including making technology work for us. I hadn’t written digi-floral code before, but I knew I could do it. Confidence in one’s ability had been a core subject at my college.

  I’d fallen for Mandy’s act without a care in the world and had believed I was doing her a favour. Doing a good thing. My mother, I’d thought, would have been proud of me.

  My chewed up nails bit into the palms of my hands; I was digging them in so deeply. But I relished the pain that followed. Anything to mask the real agony.

  “What was your plan?” Hugo asked.

  “We didn’t know what form the coup would take,” Mandy said. “But one person against fifty mercs was too high a risk.”

  “You knew he had more than the twenty he was legally allowed onboard and you didn’t warn us?”

  “Would you have believed me? Would Captain Moore?”

  “You expect me to believe you now,” Hugo said.

  I liked that he was questioning her. He wasn’t falling for her sob story like I had. He was making Mandy work for their trust. It was a lesson I was learning far too late.

  “The objective was always to assess what the leaseholder had planned and act accordingly,” Mandy said. “I had no idea his plan would involve such a lethal level of force.”

  “By my calculation,” Hugo growled, “we’ve lost close to a dozen people. Most of them AU crewmen. You c
ould have stopped that.”

  “No,” Mandy said resolutely. “Not from the pay-for-passages. Maybe if we’d managed to get a top tier. But not down here. No way. You guys don’t even pay attention to what goes on down here. The jobs you make them do are either restricted to the habitats or menial janitorial type roles. We’re not even given a level one security clearance.”

  “You’re not crew,” Hugo said, and then must have realised this wasn’t the argument he wanted to have. “It’s irrelevant. You let the leaseholder enact a plan you were aware of without informing us.”

  “I…”

  “Our captain is dead!” Hugo sucked in a breath of air. I couldn’t stop from peeking at him. He looked furious.

  He looked gorgeous.

  I looked away again.

  “Our first officer,” he said in a more measured tone. “Our chief engineer. The head of our security. Why they didn’t just take me out at the beginning as well, I don’t know. But you allowed this entire situation to happen.”

  “You mean I allowed you to have to step up and take command,” Mandy snapped. “You wear the rank but don’t have the balls to carry out what’s needed.”

  Hugo stepped forward and pointed a finger at Mandy.

  “You have no idea who I am or what I’m capable of.” His voice was low and steady, with a deadly edge to it. “You let this happen. Face it. You let them kill the upper echelon of our command and did fucking nothing.”

  “It’s irrelevant,” she said, using Hugo’s words on him. “We’re here now. In this moment. Aquila shooting at another vessel in the Fleet. The leaseholder of our ship has taken over the onboard computer, and there’s a fairly high chance the others have succeeded in that endeavour as well.”

  Johnson and Armstrong both paled. I flicked a glance at Hugo. He was still fuming so had some colour in his cheeks.

  “Were your spies on those ships, too?” Hugo snarled. “Letting it all happen.”