by C N Samson
The lift slowed and stopped at the top floor. The door on the opposite side opened, disorienting Rheinborne until he realized that the lift had two sets of openings: one for everyday use, another for the emergency exit.
The guards dragged Rheinborne out first. Briggston followed.
“Your little friend should be joining us soon,” the older man said as they walked along the mirror-lined hallway toward the entrance to the suite. “Oh sure, she knew that people will do things to avoid punishment, but she forgot that people would much rather do things for a reward.”
“Such as?” Rheinborne asked coldly.
“In this case, full legality.”
At the suite’s entrance, Briggston palmed the access plate. The double doors parted to reveal a spacious room, the size of a luxury apartment. Unlike the crisp modernity of the hotel room Rheinborne had seen, the suite was decorated in the old world style.
The bodyguards forced Rheinborne to walk over a plush, patterned carpet and shoved him into a chair that was made from real wood. The other furnishings in the room glinted with gold, platinum, and crystal. Massive abstract paintings dominated three of the walls; a ceiling-to-floor window made up the fourth wall.
Four more men, the rest of Briggston’s crew, got off the oversized sofa and surrounded Rheinborne. He estimated that they were either ex-military or long-time enforcers for the organization. None were armed with guns, but each of them wore a sheathed combat knife.
“Like the place?” Briggston asked, spreading his arms. “Cost me a Lord-damned fortune to stay here for this long, but I just needed a break from the wife.”
Rheinborne tried his ECM again. Still no connection. The jammers in the suite were also still active.
Briggston ambled over to the window, which looked out over the ocean. He placed his hand on the glass, and the window became opaque.
“It’s funny,” said the older man, “but I feel as if I know you already, from what Norland’s been telling me. Still makes me wonder why you’re here.”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Rheinborne snapped. One of the bodyguards punched him in the head.
Briggston waved for the man to back off. “I know that Gwynne sent you after the Chyth artifact. What I mean is, why isn’t he here himself? Why do you got no support from him?
“He’ll be along any minute,” said Rheinborne, knowing that it was a weak bluff.
“No, no, that’s not it. I think you got abandoned.” Briggston took a seat on the couch, crossed his legs. “The way I see it, Gwynne realized that he’d lost, and that I’d won, so he soddered off and left you out in the void. Speaking of which, how’d you survive getting spaced?”
The crime lord’s men tensed as three people entered the suite. Rheinborne’s heart sank when he saw that it was Marlaina, escorted by two hotel security guards. Her wrists were held together in front of her by magnetic restraints.
“At long last,” Briggston said. “She must’ve put up a big fight, huh?”
“No, sir,” one of the security guards said. “She sent an alert to the city police, but we told them it was a false alarm.”
“Good. Where’s the other two?”
“We’re still looking.”
“Well, keep at it. If you find them after we’ve gone, just lock them up somewhere.”
Yes, sir. Oh, and here.” He held out a stack of dataslates. “They’ve been wiped, but we have control over the lifts and the network again.”
Briggston told two of his men to bring Marlaina and her slates over to him, then dismissed the hotel personnel.
“Are you all right?” Rheinborne asked Marlaina.
“Yes, fine,” she answered tersely as she was made to sit beside Briggston. Though she didn’t look as if she’d been harmed, the girl had a terrified demeanor. She held Rheinborne’s gaze, then flicked her eyes upward.
“A pity,” said Briggston, tossing aside the slates. He wrapped an arm around Marlaina’s shoulders. “You must have made yourself queen of the whole damn system. But computers and circuits aren’t everything. Like I was about to tell your friend here, I always make it a point to get to know the little people wherever I go. I let them understand that it’s in their best interests to look out for mine.”
“You’d already bought the unregistereds,” said Rheinborne.
“Bought? What am I, a slaver?”
“Yes, you are!”
Briggston waved away the accusation. “No, I just promised to get them legalized in return for useful information.”
“And what about the hotel security?”
“Ah, I just gave them money. Everybody’s so underpaid around here.” Briggston dug around in his suit pocket, brought out a couple of small cube-shaped devices. Rheinborne recognized them as the ECM jammers that Marlaina had constructed.
“These are of your making?” Briggston asked the chixxar. Marlaina nodded.
“I’m impressed. And you made, what, ten of these right under the nose of your boss? Lord damn. You get a bulk order or something?” Briggston laughed. “Gotta say, I’d love to hire you, but there’s no way I could trust you.”
It seemed like Briggston was in a talkative mood. Rheinborne decided to play into that, hoping that the other man would let something useful slip.
“You don’t have to kill us,” he said. “As you said, you’ve already won. Have Prester release our friends, and you can take the artifact wherever you want.”
“What? Kill?” Briggston looked around in mock indignation. “Who said anything about that?”
One of the bodyguards frowned in confusion and said, “Wait, so you don’t want us to—”
“Oh shut up!” Briggston barked. “You people can be so dumb, sometimes. Yes, we are going to dispose of them, but not here. Understand?”
“Yes, sir!” the man said, stiffening his spine.
“There’s really no point,” Rheinborne persisted. “Norland must have told you that Gwynne can’t call anyone in the government for help, and neither can we. So why not let us go?”
“Prester has plans for the woman and the siddie,” answered Briggston. “You, though, strike me as the take-revenge-at-any-cost sort of fella, so no. And as for her...heh, I’d probably wake up one day and find all my accounts drained dry. So, double no.”
Briggston tossed one of the jammers to the guard closest to Rheinborne. “Put that on him.” He held the other jammer up to Marlaina’s face. “We’ve turned the range down on these to four feet, so they’ll only block your modules.”
His hand suddenly dove inside the front of Marlaina’s uniform. Her eyes popped wide with shock and disgust as Briggston stuffed the device into her bra.
“Don’t you touch her!” Rheinborne bellowed, surging to his feet. Two of the guards slammed him back onto his chair and held him down while another man began pummeling him. He gasped as the punches knocked the air out of him.
“Enough, enough!” Briggston shouted. “Put the thing in his pocket or something.”
The guard ceased beating Rheinborne and did as Briggston ordered.
“Okay,” the crime lord said, “leave theirs on, but turn the others off. I gotta make some calls.”
Dazed, Rheinborne rested his head on his chest. A great tiredness came over him, but he fought to remain awake. The failure of the plan was entirely his, since he hadn’t thought to consider Briggston’s influence over the hotel employees. And with Gwynne missing, Rheinborne was the only one left who stood a chance to rectify the situation. He resolved not to give up, no matter how dire the situation became.
“All right, good, we’ll be in orbit in half an hour or so,” Briggston was saying, sounding distant. Rheinborne raised his head, saw that the older man had gone over to the far side of the suite.
“Blake, are you okay?” Marlaina whispered.
Rheinborne winked at her. She smiled faintly, then once again flicked her eyes up at the ceiling.
“Pack it in, fellas, we’re leaving,” Briggston said, striding towa
rd the doors. “Grogan, you stay here and keep a watch on things. Everyone else, with me.”
Rheinborne offered no resistance as he was yanked to his feet and pushed out the doors. He pondered what Marlaina’s look could mean. It had to be a signal, but for what? Something to do with the lights, or the fire suppression system? What else could be above them?
Whatever it was, he was certain she was telling him to be ready.
In the hallway, only one guard took charge of Marlaina, while two men escorted Rheinborne. The last two men accompanied Briggston, who trailed behind.
“Yeah, that’s right, I’m not checking out yet,” he said, evidently talking to someone at the front desk. “A couple hours, not more than three...no, the schedule’s the same...yeah, that’s fine. Thanks.”
Rheinborne was now certain that ZT had been correct. Briggston was planning to meet the Skyward when it arrived, but he was going to take his ship up early and wait in orbit. That might turn out to be a good thing: one last chance to make a deal for their lives.
CHAPTER 38
AS THE GROUP RODE THE private lift to the ground floor, Marlaina kept stealing glances back at Rheinborne. Briggston noticed this and said, “That’s right, chixie, get a good look at him. It’s the last time you’ll see him alive!”
The rear doors opened onto the center of a well-lit, carpeted hallway. A sign on the wall indicated that the casino was to the left, the parking garage to the right.
Marlaina and her escort were the first ones out of the lift. The moment that they stepped into the hallway, everything went black. Total darkness.
Instantly, Rheinborne threw himself forward, breaking the grip of his guards. He barreled into Marlaina’s escort, driving a shoulder into the man’s back. The two of them crashed into the wall, bounced off and fell to the floor.
“Marlaina, run!” Rheinborne yelled. A babble of voices erupted from the blackness.
“Do something, you idiots!” “Where is he?” “Get the girl!” “Lord damn it!”
Marlaina’s guard had fallen on top of Rheinborne, pinning him down. As Rheinborne attempted to wriggle free, the man’s weight abruptly vanished, only to be replaced by a sharp pressure on his chest.
The emergency lights snapped on, allowing Rheinborne to see the guard kneeling over him. The man drew his knife, placed the edge to Rheinborne’s throat.
“Don’t you move,” the guard warned.
Rheinborne kept still but shifted his eyes left and right. The other men were in a loose line along the hallway, but Marlaina was nowhere to be seen.
“Fercocking bastard!” screamed Briggston, coming out of the lift in a blistering rage. He made animalistic sounds as he repeatedly kicked Rheinborne in the ribs. Fortunately, the elderly crime lord had little strength, so his assault wasn’t as painful as it could have been. Still, Rheinborne acted as if was in agony.
“Get him out of here,” Briggston said after what seemed like several minutes.
The bodyguard atop Rheinborne backed away, and two others hauled him upright. They half-dragged, half-carried him out to the parking garage and loaded him into the rear seat of a waiting silver limousine.
Rheinborne allowed himself to relax a bit, grateful to be sitting down. The two guards got in on either side of him; one of them now carried a stun-stick. Rheinborne didn’t see where he had gotten the weapon, nor did he care. He closed his eyes, breathed heavily. It was now clear that Marlaina had somehow planned the power interruption; he was glad that he had been alert enough to take advantage of it.
Less than a minute later, he heard a door open, slam shut. Opening his eyes, he saw Briggston in the front passenger seat. The older man turned, scowled at Rheinborne.
“Your chixie friend won’t go free for long,” Briggston said. “Hotel security will find her.”
“That’s if she’s still in there,” Rheinborne said in a neutral tone. Privately, he was now able to relax even more; Marlaina had indeed gotten away for now, and with any luck, so had Tahla and ZT.
Briggston ordered the driver to head to the spaceport as fast as possible. This, too, was good news; it told Rheinborne that he wouldn’t be killed planetside. Most likely, he would be dumped into space, or even hyperspace, somewhere away from Maralto. But he reminded himself that, until it happened, there was still hope.
IN THE Skyward’s security room, Norland sat in semi-darkness. A grid of monitors was arrayed on the wall before him, but he stared at one that displayed a view of the interior of Valicia’s cabin. She lay motionless on her bunk, eyes open, not sleeping. It was strange, yet fascinating at the same time. Was she worried and unable to rest? Or was this some form of meditation?
The door slid open, and the lights returned to full brightness. Norland squinted at the figure who had just entered. Oh, great, it was Prester.
“Still watching her like some kind of pervoid freak?” the man said.
“What is it?” Norland asked. He blanked the monitor’s display.
“I just got a call from Briggston. He was very much not pleased.”
“Yeah, so? What happened?”
“His ship got boarded by the Maralto PD. They were looking for Rheinborne.”
“Oh, fercock!” Norland said. “How?”
Prester recounted what Briggston had told him, of how a Maralto planetary defense cruiser had intercepted the Highfire shortly after it went into orbit. The cruiser’s commander had said that someone reported that Rheinborne was being held against his will on the Highfire, and that he was obliged to investigate.
“Did they get him?” asked Norland.
“No, they did not,” Prester replied. “Briggston paid a lot of hardcash to make them go away.”
“That’s good.”
“Not quite. Briggston said that he’s taking that amount out of what he’ll be paying us for the artifact.”
Heat rose in Norland’s face. He shot to his feet. “That’s not the deal!”
Prester gave a shrug. “Cost of doing business, it seems. And sometimes, those costs get passed on to others.”
“Why didn’t Briggston just kill Rheinborne when he caught him? Why’s he taking him along?”
“Surely that’s obvious. He doesn’t want to dirty himself, so he’ll have us do it. That way, if someone asks Briggston if he killed Rheinborne, he can truthfully say he didn’t.”
“Oh, real courageous.”
“Yeah, well, better not say that to his face.” Prester paused in the doorway. “I’ll just leave you to your...surveillance.” He snickered as he departed.
Norland flopped back into his chair, his mood spoiled. Bad enough that he and his team wouldn’t be getting all they were promised, but Prester didn’t seem too bothered. Why hadn’t he protested? Didn’t he care?
Well, maybe hardcash didn’t mean all that much to that smug fercocker, but Norland and his people needed all they could get if they were going to start new lives.
A bubble of resentment formed within him, and an idea that had been sleeping in the shadows of his mind now awoke and came to the light. He closed and locked the door, then switched on the monitor that displayed Valicia’s cabin. She hadn’t moved at all.
Norland focused on the other monitors, cycled through their views until he spotted Emlyn, who was just leaving the ship’s LIBRA suite. He tracked her as she moved through the corridors, not daring to give voice to a dark whisper at the edge of his thoughts.
He shook himself, returned his attention to Valicia. The longer he gazed at her, the more certain he became of what he had to do.
It took him a few minutes to access the security console’s core command routines, in order to erase his recent activities and to stop it from logging anything further. Next, he isolated the camera in Valicia’s cabin and turned on the transceiver.
“Hey,” he said into the comm pickup. “Can you hear me?”
Valicia made no reply.
He tried again, a little louder. “It’s Norland. Can you hear me? I have something
to ask you.”
CHAPTER 39
COULD THIS DAY GET any worse? Blake Rheinborne asked himself.
Earlier, he had been taken aboard the Highfire and been allowed to sit in the ship’s lounge. But not long after leaving the planet, Briggston’s men had hustled him into the cargo compartment, thrown a black hood over his head, then jolted him with stun-sticks until he lost consciousness.
When he came back to wakefulness, a voice warned him not to move or speak. He couldn’t have done either if he wanted; his mouth had gone dry, and his arms were numb from being tied behind his back for so long.
And now, he was being hoisted to his feet and made to move. His captors forced him down a ramp, marched him a short way, then halted. The hood was ripped off his head, allowing him to see his surroundings.
Rheinborne found himself in the hangar bay of the Skyward. The Highfire was parked in the center of the bay, and the Skyward’s two shuttles had been moved to either side of Briggston’s ship.
A number of people clustered near Skylight Dawn, the shuttle at the port side of the Highfire. Norland, Kassyrinx, and Emlyn stood behind a mobile control console. Beside them were Valicia and Prester, while Briggston and four of his bodyguards stood apart from the others. Scattered around the bay were five soldiers in tactical gear, intermixed with an equal number of men in dark business suits. Rheinborne guessed that the latter group were Prester’s men.
“Pleased to see that you’re still alive, my good son!” Kassyrinx cried. Emlyn clubbed him on the back of the head with the butt of her pistol. The sidhreen flinched, but remained standing.
“Valicia, are you all right?” Rheinborne shouted, simultaneously pinging her module.
Prester laughed. “Your lady friend isn’t yours anymore,” he said with a nasty sneer.
“What does that mean?” Rheinborne asked. His ECM returned a no-connection error.
“Let me show you what I mean.” Prester stroked Valicia’s hair and said, “Go over and give Mr. Briggston a kiss.”
