Suicide Run (Smuggler's Tales From the Golden Age of the Solar Clipper Book 2)

by Nathan Lowell

  “Of course, Director. Will you be staying with us as well?”

  “Not this trip. Let them have it for as long as they need it, if you would?” She reached across the desk and took his hand. “And put it on my tab. I owe them a great deal.”

  “Of course, Director.”

  Natalya and Zoya shared a glance.

  “Do you have any luggage?” Etienne asked, looking up at Natalya.

  “We do, but it’s still at the yard,” Natalya said.

  “I’ve notified Veronica. She’ll be bringing some more suitable outfits,” Caldicott said.

  “Of course, Director.” He pulled a pair of key cards from a slot on the desk and handed them to Natalya and Zoya with a little flourish. “I can have an attendant show you the way.”

  “Nonsense,” Caldicott said. “I’ll show them. No need to bother the staff.” She paused and gave him a warm smile. “Thank you so much, Etienne.”

  “My pleasure, as always, Director.”

  She nodded at Natalya and Zoya before sailing off across the lobby. “We’ve got a lot to do and not much time to do it in.” She passed the bank of elevators and pressed her palm to a panel mounted on the wall. A door opened and she led the way in. “We’ll set your access from the suite.” They stepped into the car and the door whispered closed.

  “If you don’t mind my asking, why?” Natalya asked.

  Caldicott gave her a crooked smile. “Vagrant.”

  Natalya glanced at Zoya who shrugged in return.

  “It’s simple really,” Caldicott said. “I want him out of here. If you two have even a chance of leverage, I want it.”

  “I don’t know how much leverage we have,” Natalya said.

  “You’ve probably got more than you think. I’ve got the team digging now, just based on what you said at the inquest. They’ll find something.”

  “If there’s anything to find,” Natalya said.

  Caldicott snorted. “There is. I know that much already. With these new tidbits, we’ll at least break his hold on the Communications Division.” The door whispered open to a plush foyer. Caldicott took them to the left. “Use your key. See if it works.”

  Natalya swiped her keycard on the lock and the paired doors swung inward.

  “Good,” Caldicott said. “Come on. Elevator first, then what? Food? Drink? Sleep?”

  “I could use a snack,” Zoya said. “Some water would be welcome.”

  Caldicott waved them into the entry and pointed to a darkened panel. “Swipe your card, then put your palm on that.”

  “Slick,” Natalya said and did as she was told.

  “You’ll be able to call the elevator now. If I hadn’t been here, one of the hotel staff would have brought you up.”

  “Isn’t this overkill?” Zoya asked.

  Caldicott shook her head, elegant coif bobbing at the movement. “When things get ragged, having a secure bolt-hole makes all the difference.”

  “Where’s Vagrant’s?” Natalya asked.

  “His bolt-hole?” Caldicott asked. “He leaves the station. He’s never far from a docked ship with hot thrusters.”

  “Afraid of getting locked up?” Zoya asked, finishing with the scanner.

  “Afraid of getting killed,” Caldicott said. “Too many people see a knife in the back as a viable answer to a dispute.”

  “I thought High Tortuga arbitrated those kinds of discussions,” Zoya said.

  Caldicott made a see-saw gesture with one hand. “When both parties are rational. It generally works pretty well.” She shrugged. “There’s always a small percentage who don’t like the outcomes.”

  “And Malachai Vagrant wins a lot of them?” Natalya said.

  “Too many,” Caldicott said. “As Comms Director, he has a significant advantage that he’s not supposed to have. Open access without the moral compass to stay on this side of ethical practice as far as I’m concerned. Not that I have a lot myself.” She led them farther into the suite and pointed to an arched entry just around the corner from the entry. “Kitchen. Fridge should be stocked. Fruits. Cheeses. Bottled anything. Wine cellar in the cabinet beside it. Help yourself and we’ll get started.” She continued on and settled on a couch upholstered in what looked like burgundy leather. “If one of you would grab me a bottle of water?”

  Natalya followed her nose into the tidy kitchenette. A half-height stainless steel cooler was tucked under a polished stone counter. She found a couple of bottles of water and eyed the selection of soft drinks. She passed on the food and stepped aside so Zoya could choose what she wanted. Cracking the top on one of the bottles, she wandered back to where Caldicott waited, examining her tablet while perched on the edge of her seat. “You want a glass?” she asked, holding out the unopened bottle.

  Caldicott took it, returning a smile and a nod. “Thank you, no. I may be a director now but I wasn’t always.” She twisted the top off the bottle and took a delicate sip. “Ah. I was drier than I thought.” She gestured to the sofa across from her. “Sit. Sit. Get comfy. Then tell me everything you didn’t tell the inquest.”

  Natalya lounged on the sofa, taking advantage of the comfy seating. “This is one thing I really miss. A comfy couch.”

  Zoya sat on the other end and grinned. “What? The Peregrine’s couch isn’t comfy?”

  Natalya took a slug from her water before answering. “It is, but it’s not the same.” She looked at Caldicott. “What makes you think we didn’t tell the inquest everything?”

  “For one thing, you didn’t say where you stashed the chips.” She took another sip from her bottle. “For another, you didn’t really say how you survived.”

  Natalya pursed her lips and considered the questions. “No, we didn’t and the location’s off the table until Ernst says something.”

  “Why?” Caldicott asked, her eyes crinkling with curiosity. “Don’t you know?”

  “Ernst’s instincts have been pretty good so far,” Natalya said. “I’m good with following his lead on it.”

  Caldicott gave a short nod. Her frown said she wasn’t happy with the answer, but Natalya felt pretty sure the subject would come up again. “How did you keep from getting sucked out the lock?”

  “Seat belts,” Natalya said. “And we wore softsuits. When the lock popped, everything not strapped down exited the ship. I just made it back to the jump seat before the outer door opened, but the suits kept us breathing and communicating. The only difficulty was making sure we had enough air to get back.”

  “Obviously you did,” Caldicott said.

  “The lock doors both cycled closed just before the programmed jump took us out of the system,” Zoya said. “We had almost enough reserves and were able to get a little more oxygen from the environmental system. It was enough to pressurize the ship, but only just.”

  Caldicott tapped the mouth of her bottle against her lower lip and stared into the middle distance. “That tell you anything?” she asked after a few moments.

  “It’s a tossup,” Natalya said. “Either they didn’t expect the test pilots to wear suits inside the ship or they had a plan to deal with us in the Deep Dark.”

  “Or both,” Zoya said. “Backup plans for the backup plans.”

  Natalya nodded. “That’s possible, too.”

  “You said something about them knowing that the ship wasn’t up to the stated spec,” Caldicott said.

  “That’s conjecture,” Natalya said. “I think it’s a pretty good bet but it might just as easily be that they didn’t think it was necessary to go any farther than four BUs away.”

  Zoya stiffened and sat forward.

  “Something?” Natalya asked.

  “Maybe,” Zoya said. “Two things. Maybe three. One, that’s about the range of most jump-capable tugs.”

  “So they were going to catch it and bring it back to Ravaine?” Caldicott asked.

  “Maybe,” Zoya said. “Maybe they were going to catch it and jump it someplace else. I didn’t look to see who else has a stat
ion out there.”

  “It might not be in the database,” Natalya said.

  “So, the possibility is that they jumped it there because it was halfway to somewhere else they wanted to go,” Zoya said.

  “That doesn’t rule out the notion that they were aware the ship was underpowered,” Caldicott said. “Why a tug? Wouldn’t they have just removed the pilot and jumped it?”

  Zoya frowned. “Maybe it was supposed to have been damaged more. If it weren’t for Nats, we’d have had no main engine fuel. It would take a tug to get it under control after the jump.”

  “We didn’t have a lot left over after killing the vector,” Natalya said. “We ate a lot of fuel doing it. It was enough, but just barely.”

  “That why you let Ernst jump it back?” Caldicott asked.

  “Partly,” Natalya said, then took a short drink of water. “Partly because we wanted to shut down the ship as much as possible. Mostly because we were running out of air.”

  “We secured as many systems as possible without hampering life support or shutting off the power to the lights, the heat, and the locks,” Zoya said. “It couldn’t fire thrusters or jump without somebody manually enabling the systems.”

  “Clever,” Caldicott said.

  Natalya shrugged and tipped back her bottle, draining the water. “We’ll see if it’s clever enough.” A knock sounded on the door—three short raps, then silence.

  Caldicott placed her bottle on the coffee table and stood. “That’s probably Veronica. We’ll get you some civilian clothes to wear and then go see what kind of trouble we can get into.”

  “You know, we can go to a shop,” Zoya said.

  “Yes, but I can’t,” Caldicott said, crossing to the door. “You’re not getting out of my sight until you get on a shuttle back to Pulaski.” She winked. “Maybe not even then. Data has a significant interest in this project. Maybe I’ll just give Alison a bit of moral support. In person.” She swung the door open for a pixie hauling a garment rack that looked bigger than the Peregrine. “Roni, thank you for coming on such short notice.”

  Veronica snorted and gave Caldicott a rude gesture with the hand not hauling the rack. “Since when did you ever call in advance, Treese?” She grinned and winked at Natalya. “She’s always bossy. Don’t let her get to you. She may be a director but she’s not my boss.”

  “But you came,” Caldicott said.

  “Hey, you give good business. Now? You might have given me a bit of a clue instead of having Etienne tut-tut me on the vid.” She paused and perused Zoya up and down. “Hello, Fleet. What brings you to the dark side?”

  “A small ship,” Zoya said. She nodded at Natalya. “Her ship, actually.”

  Veronica’s eyebrows shot up. “Gonna be one of those days, eh? No matter. What kind of clothes you need?”

  “Civilian clothes,” Caldicott said, before anybody else could speak. “Just a couple of changes. They left their luggage back at Pulaski.”

  It didn’t really seem possible but Veronica’s brows climbed even higher up her forehead. “Pulaski?” Her eyes narrowed as she gave both Natalya and Zoya the once over again. “You’re them,” she said after a few moments.

  “Them?” Natalya asked.

  “The test pilots for the new birds.” She looked at Caldicott. “They’re the ones, right?”

  Caldicott shrugged. “Maybe.”

  “Rumor is you’re dead,” Veronica said, looking back at them.

  “Not just yet,” Natalya said. “It was closer than I’d have liked.”

  “All right, then. Clothes for coming back from the nearly dead.” She glanced at Caldicott as she began pulling the covers off the mobile rack. “How long? What will you be doing with them? Newsies? Interviews? What?”

  “Nothing with that kind of exposure,” Caldicott said. “Dinner with friends. Rest and recuperation. We’ve got a couple of days before Joe Allen will be done with them and I can’t stomach the notion that they’ll be wearing those ... coveralls ... the whole time.” She didn’t quite sneer.

  “It’s a shipsuit,” Zoya said. “Very practical for shipboard life.”

  “I’m sure,” Caldicott said. “But tell me you wouldn’t welcome a hot bath and a fresh change of clothes.”

  Natalya gave herself a quick sniff and shrugged. “I could use a shower, I suppose. I’m partial to jeans and pullovers, if you’ve got anything. And a change of unders wouldn’t be amiss.”

  Veronica nodded, pulling bundles from the bottom of the rack. “Which one’s Usoko?”

  Zoya raised her hand in a little wave. “That’s me.”

  “Catch,” Veronica said and tossed one of the bundles to her. “Three changes of unders and bras. Some athletic socks and stockings.” She tossed another one to Natalya. “Then you’re Regyri. Same deal. Sizes should be right.”

  “How—?” Natalya started to ask but looked at Caldicott. “Data.”

  Caldicott gave a little shrug. “I may have had the office flash a copy of your measurements to Veronica while we were checking in.”

  “They’re probably a little out of date. We haven’t exactly been clothes-shopping lately,” Zoya said.

  “If they’re too far off, I can scan you now and get the replacements before dinner,” Veronica said. “It’s what I do.” She pulled a pair of denim slacks from the rack and checked the tag. “You want denims, Usoko?” she asked holding up the pants.

  “How much?” Zoya asked.

  “Not your worry,” Caldicott said. “Board business. Veronica’s on my tab.”

  Veronica beamed. “Makes me glad I brought the good stuff, then.”

  Caldicott laughed. “You always bring the good stuff, Roni. Just get them dressed so I can take them out without attracting too much of the wrong kind of attention.”

  “You’re so charming, Treese. Makes me wonder why I like you,” Veronica said, pulling another pair of denim slacks off the rack.

  “You like my credits,” Caldicott said.

  “Well, that and your charming disposition,” Veronica said. She waved Natalya and Zoya over. “You two. Pick stuff. There’s two of everything, one in each of your alleged sizes. Grab what you want and give me the hangers so I can charge Miss Bossypants over there. And try some of that stuff on before I get out of here so I know if I have to fix it. Right? Right.”

  Natalya found some slacks and a couple of pullover tops in her colors and size in a matter of moments. “This will do.”

  “A dress,” Caldicott said. “Cocktail length.”

  Natalya frowned. “Excuse me?”

  “You’ll need a cocktail dress. We’re not going to stay cooped up in here for the next two days. I’ve got a couple of places we need to be seen in and you’ll need a dress.”

  Zoya snorted. “I haven’t seen you in a dress since ... ever.”

  “I’m an engineer,” Natalya said. “Engineers don’t wear dresses.”

  “Don’t tell my Aunt Demi that,” Zoya said.

  “She an engineer?” Natalya asked.

  “A damn fine one, but she leaves the engine room behind when she’s done for the day.”

  “And she wears dresses?” Natalya asked.

  Caldicott clapped her hands twice. “Ladies. Focus. Grab some clothing. Try it on. Make sure it fits. Then we can let Veronica get on with her busy day and we can get back to work ourselves, yes?”

  Veronica tsk-tsked. “See? Bossy. Bossy, bossy, bossy. She’s always like that when she’s excited and she’s always excited.” She turned to Caldicott. “I can leave the rack if you want. There’s enough clothes there to satisfy an army.”

  Natalya held up a dress, black with narrow white piping. “Shoes?”

  Veronica pulled a shoebox from the base of the rack and held it out. “Your size, matches the dress. You’ll look terrif in it. Go try it on.”

  By the time Veronica left, dragging her garment rack with her, Natalya and Zoya both had three new outfits with shoes to match. Eyeing the clothing, Zoya shoo
k her head. “How long did you say we’re going to be here?”

  “You’ll be heading back to Pulaski day after tomorrow, if I’m any judge of how Joe and the gang will go with this.” She pursed her lips. “That doesn’t give me a lot of time, but I’ll take what I can get.”

  “Well, now you’ve bribed us,” Natalya said. “What do you want in return?”

  “You’ve got it backwards. I already have what I want. Vagrant gone. He can’t come back and that leaves a hole in Comms.”

  “You’ve got a candidate lined up?” Zoya asked.

  “I don’t think anybody saw this one coming,” Caldicott said. “Maybe Joe Allen, but he plays his cards close to the vest. There’ll be somebody bright and clever who’ll step up.”

  “How will you know it’s not somebody working for Vagrant?” Natalya asked. “Swapping the devil you know for one you don’t?”

  “I’ve got the data.” She shrugged. “I’ll know if and how they’re being paid. Chips are good if you don’t need to spend a lot of them or deposit them. As soon as the balances go back into the system, they’re where I can see them.” She shrugged again. “I won’t know where they came from but I can see that they arrived.”

  “Circumstantial,” Zoya said.

  Caldicott placed one beautifully manicured fingertip to her own nose. “Right, but I’m not worried about the rules of evidence. I just need to know who I have to be careful standing in front of. If what Panko said about the number of chips is right, that’s real leverage.” She paused and offered a sly smile. “You don’t happen to know where they are?”

  Natalya just grinned.

  “Can’t blame a girl for trying,” Caldicott said. Her tablet bipped. Her face clouded over when she read the message. “I’ve got to go for now. I’ll be back. Dinner at 1800. Dressy place. You’ll be noticed.”

  “Thank you for the clothes,” Zoya said.

  Caldicott didn’t look up from her screen but waved a hand in the air in dismissal. “Think nothing of it. Rounding error in petty cash and worth it.” She crossed the room in a few strides but stopped at the door. “Unless it’s really somebody you know, I wouldn’t open this door again.”

  “Why?” Zoya asked.