First Flight

by Claremont, Chris

  "I hesitated a little. Hell, I almost didn't come out that damn door. But then—I thought of Paolo and Cat and the Bear. I told myself these might have been the ones responsible for murdering them. And I did what I had to do."

  Nicole looked at her friend and saw her own mixed-up emotions of pain, grief, fear, hate and exultation mirrored in Hana's eyes. Impulsively, she pulled the smaller woman into a tight embrace.

  "I may only be a civilian, Nicole," she heard Hana say in a choked voice, "but I won't let you down. Not ever."

  They moved apart with surprising reluctance. "Come on, partner," Nicole said, "let's help clear the hall, and then get ourselves changed and out of here before these clowns are missed and someone comes looking."

  The technos' coveralls weren't the greatest fit, but the two women managed to make themselves presentable. None of this party were Oriental so they used a baseball cap pulled low, plus Hana's own eyeglasses, to hide her face.

  As they turned to go, Hana slung a crossbow over her shoulder. Nicole stopped her. "Leave it," she said.

  "Hm?"

  "I'd like to take 'em, too, but we can't. We have to leave Range Guide carrying the same equipment the technos had when they entered. No more, no less. Replacing their sidearms with these Halyan't'a hand weapons is already pushing our luck as far as we dare."

  "Right. Sorry;"

  With that, they left their Halyan't'a comrades and made their way towards the midships transit tunnel, mixing in with another party of technos en route. By the time they reached the airlock, they were in the midst of a fair-sized crowd, and Nicole noticed a lot of nervous looks on the faces around her. As the technicians were rushed through the tunnel, and into a holding area at the far end, where they were strip-searched and identiscanned, they were replaced by troopers, many carrying heavy weapons.

  "What's up?" someone asked in annoyance.

  "Haven't you heard?" another replied, not bothering to disguise the quaver of apprehension in his voice as he kept looking over his shoulder, as if expecting to be attacked and massacred at any moment. "Command lost bioscan downlink to one of our scout teams. They figure an ambush. They're pulling everyone out until this ship's secured."

  "Shit, they should'a done that right off. Effing furballs give me the creeps. I say, space 'em all."

  "Shut up, both of you," Nicole snapped, turning to face Range Guide's interior and noisily sniffing the air. "You!" she jabbed a finger at the nearest trooper. "D'you have atmospheric samplers in that suit?" Without letting him reply, she rushed on, "use 'em—fast! And tell me what you find!"

  "Yessir," the man stammered, taken aback, but responding instantly to the force of command in Nicole's voice.

  "Rafe, something wrong?" a guard called from the tunnel.

  "Fire," Nicole's trooper cried, "Jesus, Mary and Joseph—fire! Inside the alien ship! There's a fire!" Immediately, klaxons erupted from the asteroid, the skull-piercing wail of the fire alarm, a noise deliberately calculated to wake the dead. Aboard Range Guide, status lights began flashing insanely on hatch-side and bulkhead panels and Nicole winced as the Halyan't'a alarm, its pitch deliberately lowered enough to be exquisitely painful to the human ear, kicked her in the head.

  Pandemonium reigned, as technos evacuating the starship in sudden, growing panic clashed with troopers trying to force their way inside to combat the blaze. The massive confusion was made to order for the two women and they crossed over to the rock without being challenged.

  Once there, they ducked out of sight. Loudspeakers blared a steady stream of orders, while troopers worked to quell the panic. It quickly became evident that there was a major fire aboard Range Guide. Intense heat combined with huge amounts of choking, black smoke, burning fiercely out of control.

  Nicole plugged a minicom into her ear. "Andrei," she called, "do you copy? Andrei, acknowledge, please, over? Andrei?"

  "Receiving you five-by-five, Nicole. Are you well?"

  "The fire stunt is magnificent. From this side, it sounds like you're about to lose the entire ship."

  "Appearances, fortunately, are deceiving. The only compartments being sacrificed are peripheral and currently unused. They were the quarters of the Halyan't'a who were killed. This new damage shouldn't affect our planned minijump. And even without it, there's no way Range Guide could even try to return to s'N'dare without major dockyard work."

  "A small army of troopers is heading InShip; is that a problem?"

  "From the way the Halyan't'a are acting, the impression I have is: the more, the merrier. You needn't worry about the steelbacks."

  "And the fire?"

  "We cut off its fuel and void the compartments. Out in seconds."

  "Great work, Andrei. We're inside the rock. On my mark, you initiate a thirty-minute countdown. At zero, whether we're back aboard or not, you get the hell out, copy?"

  "That isn't much time."

  "It's too much time, against opposition like Morgan."

  "Nicole—look out!" Hana cried, stiff-arming her in the chest and leaping across the corridor towards a man who'd just emerged from a vertical DropShaft. It was hard tackle, and Hana pivoted as the two bodies slammed together, throwing the man over her hip in a perfect judo throw that bounced him off the wall. She hauled him over to Nicole, her prisoner groggy and helpless in her grasp, and they faded into a shadowed alcove.

  It was Lal, the man they'd seen talking to Morgan.

  "Keep a look-out, Hana," Nicole said. "Let me know if we've any more company."

  "Copy. I shouldn't worry about it, though; our playmates here seem a bit preoccupied with the fire."

  "Let's hope they stay that way." Nicole slapped Lal's face lightly once, twice, to bring the man around. As his eyes opened, Hana tucked the barrel of her hander in his ear.

  "So," he said quietly, "Morgan's suspicions were correct. The Speaker is human."

  "We want information," Nicole said.

  "No."

  "Then you're dead," Nicole told him. Hearing the flat finality in Nicole's voice, Hana looked at her in surprise, certain she was bluffing. The expression on Nicole's face, in her eyes, told her otherwise. Lal saw that, too. "Wait!" the raider cried. "Why?"

  "You haven't a chance, you must know that. Two of you against hundreds. And we're as well-equipped—if not better—as your precious Air Force."

  "Lal, if we've no chance, then your only chance is to cooperate. Tell us what we want to know, lead us where we want to go, and pray you don't get caught in the crossfire. Otherwise, you're a dead man. That's a certainty. Make your choice, I won't ask again."

  "I... I shall help you."

  "Keep him covered, Hana. He even twitches, cut him in half."

  "Getting a bit blood-thirsty, aren't we?" Hana whispered as Nicole passed her.

  "Merely doing what comes naturally." Nicole meant it as a joke, but was starting to suspect it was true.

  Just then, a squad of men in anti-fire suits floated up the DropShaft from a level below.

  "Where's the fire?" their leader snapped.

  Nicole pointed towards the entrance to the transit tunnel; the air there was thick with haze, despite the efforts of the cyclers to keep the asteroid's atmosphere from being contaminated.

  "Thanks," the man said. "Evacuate this section, we're going to seal it off. Follow me, men!"

  Only when they'd disappeared into the smoke did Nicole relax, glancing back at her friend with a wide grin. "Oh my heart," she mock-groaned. "Frights like that, I can do without." But Hana didn't react and Nicole reverted to business. "Take a look at this," she said, indicating a large plastic rectangle mounted at head height next to the DropShaft.

  "What is it?" Hana asked, marching Lal over with her.

  "A map," he said. It combined a schematic diagram of the asteroid with a detailed plan of this level, major compartments neatly labeled, either in full or indecipherable acronyms.

  Nicole realized that the man's hair was sticky with blood over the right ear.

&n
bsp; "He tried to get rambunctious when he saw the firemen," Hana explained. "I had to slug him."

  "Nice work," Nicole said.

  "It's a compliment I can do without."

  "I'd leave you out of this if I could! I know you're not military, I know this isn't your job, but there's no one else! I can't do it alone, I need you! And I need to trust you."

  Hana nodded. "I know. I guess," slight pause, a sigh, "it's that I'm finding it easier than I ever dreamed to do things I always abhorred. Learning to be a killer was never part of my program."

  "I'll take Lal and try to find Ciari and Shavrin. And Morgan. Your target's the central life-support station. Give me fifteen minutes and then blow everything in sight with your hander; if feasible, blow their powersystems as well. Anything to create as much chaos as humanly possible."

  "You don't ask for much."

  "Afterward, hot-foot it back to Range Guide. Don't forget, once I cue Andrei, we'll have exactly a half-hour. If we're not home by then, we'll be left behind. Clear?"

  "As crystal."

  "It only sounds impossible." Hana managed a derisive snort. "Andrei—?"

  "Yes, Nicole," she heard in her earjack.

  "Sorry for the delay, we've had some slight problems. Here it comes, then: three, two, one—mark!"

  "I copy," he acknowledged. "Launch minus eighteen hundred seconds and counting. Get a rush on, you two—and good luck."

  "Go!" Nicole snapped, shoving Hana towards the DropShaft. Then, she hauled Lal to his feet. "Morgan ordered a medical exam for the prisoners—are they still there?" She tucked her hander tight under the small man's chin, her tone demanding an immediate, truthful reply.

  "Y-yes."

  A glance at the map board told her where the infirmary was and she frog-marched Lal along the silent, deserted corridors, telling the one raider they passed that Lal had been injured in the fire. The man offered to help but Nicole told him to assist at the fire scene instead, there were bound to be more casualties. Lal said nothing; the muzzle of Nicole's gun, snug against his side, hidden by the bulk of his own body, kept his mouth shut.

  Two troopers stood guard outside the infirmary. Nicole called out that she had a wounded man here, could they give her a hand, please? She gave them a moment to relax and react and then she shoved Lal as hard as she could into the arms of the nearer one, diving over the woman's head to fire her hander at full power at the helmet of the other. The needle-thin energy beam seared through the faceplate as if it didn't exist and the trooper crumpled. Nicole gasped. She'd never imagined the weapon held such power.

  Almost too late, she remembered the other trooper. She spun in place, in time to see Lal punched aside as the woman brought up her shotgun and fired from the hip. In that same instant, Nicole kicked the wall, throwing herself below the line of fire, crying out reflexively as pellets clipped her side. Nicole pulled the trigger as she fell, scything her beam fan-wise across the corridor, and the trooper shrieked in horrible agony as she was cut in two. There was no blood, save Nicole's own. The heat of the beam instantly cauterized its wounds. But the stench of charred meat made her want to vomit. Lal did, before curling into a sobbing ball, cringing away from the carnage.

  The infirmary door flew open and an unarmored officer, flechette pistol in hand, stepped into view. It was an easy shot, but Nicole didn't take it.

  Instead, she called out to the man, "Freeze!" He had sense, and did as he was told. "Toss the gun away," she ordered, and when he had, "Now, hands on top of your head and move back into the room—slowly!"

  Nicole followed him inside, using him for cover. She looked swiftly around the room. It wasn't very crowded; the officer and Morgan were the only non-medicos present. Shavrin was tied to a chair and, from the appearance of some of the medicos, Nicole could guess why. To the Halyan't'a, Ciari had told her, the person of the Speaker was sacrosanct, to be defended at any cost. Ciari was strapped naked to an examining table; he'd evidently resisted as well, and been hurt for his trouble. There was a nasty pattern of bruises along his ribs and he wore a beaut of a black eye.

  "Don't move," Nicole told the raiders. She spotted a medico at the opposite end of the room edging towards a desk, and swung the barrel of her hander fractionally in his direction; he took the hint.

  "You," she tapped the officer on his shoulder, "release the Speaker." The man hesitated.

  "Do it, Wallis," Morgan said calmly. "The young lady means business."

  As Wallis moved, Nicole moved with him, always giving herself a clear field of fire. The bulk of her concentration was focused on Morgan. He was the most dangerous man in the room, and probably on the entire rock, no matter how blase and relaxed he might appear. Nicole knew that, if there was trouble, he'd be the one to start it. And, if given half a chance, finish it as well.

  Ciari came off the table slowly, rubbing life back into stiff, sore limbs.

  "You okay?" Nicole asked, sliding over, her tone concerned; she hadn't anticipated him or Shavrin being too badly hurt to travel unassisted.

  "I'll live." He managed a grim smile. "Don't fret, Nicole. I ache in all sorts of nasty places, but I can still function."

  "Glad to hear it. You want to release the Matriarch, and collect these bozos' weapons, before any of them get any ideas?" As he did so, Nicole stole a glance at her watch. Time was racing by; they had to get moving.

  She was turning as the dart hit. That's what saved her, making a fatal shot through the heart a wicked shoulder wound instead. At first, she wasn't even aware she'd been hit. But although her brain hadn't yet gotten the full message, her body knew what was happening and reacted instinctively. The shot came from behind, which meant the sniper had to be in the doorway, so Nicole kept turning, kicking herself down and to the side, dropping to cover behind the examination table. Her consciousness still hadn't quite caught up with events. They seemed to be passing in an eerie sort of slow motion, as they had aboard Wanderer during those last terrible minutes over Wolfe's asteroid.

  Nicole registered a belated warning from Ciari as she brought up her hander. Another dart struck the table and exploded, but she ignored it. She didn't bother aiming, she simply flipped the selector to the Halyan't'a ideograph representing broad beam, pointed the gun in the right general direction, and pulled the trigger.

  She took a necessary split second to check her target. The door's steel frame was buckled and both it and the rock wall across the corridor were badly charred, graphic testimony to the raw power of Nicole's weapon. She thought of the Halyan't'a rifles and shuddered at the idea of what they could do. Of the sniper, there was no sign. As she ducked back under cover, a bullet clipped the base of the table, centimeters from her head.

  "Ciari," she called.

  "Shavrin and I are fine, Nicole. We're both armed and we have good cover. I think Morgan's the one who fired."

  "Who else," she grumped to herself. She tried moving her wounded arm and immediately regretted it. Then, louder, "Major, how about giving up, before this gets nasty?"

  "It's already quite nasty enough for my taste, Lieutenant. But why should I? You're in the heart of my turf, outnumbered and outgunned, even in this room. If anyone should surrender, it's you."

  "You've seen what my hander can do. All I have to do is hose your side of the compartment. You and your people might get lucky, but I wouldn't count on it. Dump your weapons, or I'll fire—copy?"

  Silence.

  "I'm losing patience, Major!"

  "Here's my weapon, Ms. Shea." A pistol floated into view.

  Morgan rose to his feet behind a doctor's desk, hands visible. Nicole stayed as low as she could, gritting her teeth against the pain that slashed across her torso, from wounded side to torn shoulder, with even the slightest move. She wondered why she hadn't yet slipped into shock and then concluded, absurdly, that she had and hadn't yet realized it. She deliberately flexed her arm, using the pain to sweep away her muzzy-headedness.

  "Marshal, cover the Major. If anything pops, drop
him." She heard his acknowledgment as she kept talking. "I'll handle the others. Right—the lot of you—on your feet! No fast moves—no moves at all unless I give the word—and keep your hands where I can see them. I spot a gun, I'll burn you all."

  Nicole was about to gather them together and tie them up when a low, rolling rumble shook the entire asteroid. The lights flickered once, then went out.

  In the room, only two people reacted before everything went black. Nicole and Morgan moved simultaneously with the sound of the explosion, Morgan diving sideways, out of sight, while Nicole headed for Ciari and Shavrin. She fired as she fell, but all she did was slash a jagged line across the bulkhead above her elusive target, exposing the bedrock underneath.

  Nicole's outstretched hand found the edge of another examining table and she hauled herself up and over as fast as she could, assuming that Morgan was going for a gun. She was right, and a dart hissed past her. She fired blind back at him and heard a scream. She cursed. The voice was wrong. She'd hit one of the other raiders.

  "Ciari!" she called in a frantic, raw-voiced whisper.

  "Here," he replied beside her. She jumped. "What in the Seven Hells was that?"

  She thought of asking what "Seven Hells" were, but decided her curiosity could keep. "Hana," she replied hoarsely, nodding in admiration. "I told her to bust up the rock's life-support control system and as much of their power-system as possible. She did better than I expected."

  "For you, she would. Pity we're stuck in this hole."

  "That's the least of our troubles. We've got fifteen minutes to reach Range Guide before Andrei warps her out of here."

  "How do we find our way in the dark?"

  Nicole pulled a MapMaker out of a thigh pocket of her coveralls and flicked it on. The plasma display was a welcome glow.

  "Very nice, Nicole. All we have to do now is get out of the infirmary in one piece."

  "Yah." Nicole returned the beam setting to narrow focus and snapped off a random, unaimed shot in the general direction of the opposition; a couple of raiders immediately answered in kind, scattering their shots off the table and overhead. They ceased fire after that single volley. Careful to make no sound, Nicole stretched flat just above the floor, edging into the open, using the hander's infrared scanner to sweep the room. The raiders had decent cover, but nothing that would protect them for long against her hander.