by Alex Kings
The missile plunged down towards the canyon, accelerating.
Their view of the canyon ahead quivered, settled, then quivered again. Suddenly it opened up, distorted like a reflection in a curved surface. A wormhole showing the black of space appeared before them.
It shot towards them. Where its edges touched the walls of the canyon, it shredded the ice and rock.
The wormhole engulfed them. Rurthk felt a horrible force clutching at his insides. It was far stronger than a normal jump, and for a second he feared it was enough to crush him. The ship's bulkheads screamed under the stress. They passed the halfway point – the tidal forces began to pull outwards, trying to tear Rurthk's limbs from his joints.
And then they were through.
The wormhole deflating behind them lit up briefly with the flash of a thermonuclear explosion, scorching the aft hull, before it closed completely.
The Outsider floated alongside two giant chunks of ice, plus a cloud of smaller fragments – parts of the canyon walls which had made the jump alongside it.
Mero was doubled over, fumbling to undo the seat webbing.
He had the weakest bones out of all of them, and was most like to be injured. “How are you feeling?” Rurthk asked, unbuckling.
“I think,” Mero said through gritted teeth. He paused, undoing the last bit of webbing. “I can … keep going. I need to … check our location.”
Rurthk hit the comms. “Dr. Wolff, come to the cockpit.” He turned to Kaivon. “Get me a damage report.
“Kaivon retracted his effector fields from the walls. “Of course, Captain.” He glided out of the room.
The ship creaked as it regained its new equilibrium.
Chapter 55: There Aren't Many Escape Routes
Mero was laughing when Rurthk stepped into the medbay. The Petaur was lying flat on the bed, with his chest exposed and several white splints of medical composite supporting his ribs. They were connected by microscopic needles to the bone beneath, dropping in chemicals to support healing.
“Injured myself on a jump,” he said. “Seven cracked ribs. Now there's a tale to tell.”
“And they'll stay cracked if you don't stop shaking them like that.” Dr. Wolff advised him.
“Got us out of there, though, didn't I?” said Mero, as if this were an answer.
“Yes, we all owe you our lives,” said Dr. Wolff, checking one of the strips. “I'm sure it was a purely altruistic act and had nothing to do with saving your own skin.”
Mero laughed again, and Dr. Wolf sighed and shook his head.
But when he caught sight of Rurthk, he smiled. “There he is. Our would-be dragon.”
“What?” said Rurthk.
“Never mind. It's a human thing. How's your mouth?”
“Better?” said Rurthk. “Still numb in a few places.” He'd allowed Dr. Wolff to apply some specially programmed medical gel to the burns – both thermal and chemical – inside his mouth while Mero was making the jump calculations.
“Well, that's to be expected,” said Dr. Wolff. He took a small lamp from the counter and had Rurthk hold his mouth open while he inspected the burns. Then he went to his terminal to check the readout, transmitted wirelessly, from the medical gel. “Most of the serious damage is gone. The rest will take a few days to heal. Put antibiotic gel on daily, and don't eat anything too sharp. Common sense stuff, but in this crew it's worth mentioning.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” said Rurthk. He glanced Mero. “How's he doing?”
“He'll live,” said Dr. Wolf.
“He seems cheerful.”
“I assure you, my boy, that's not my doing.”
Mero turned to look at Rurthk. “It's because we're all screwed,” he said softly. “May as well enjoy the little things I can before they hunt us down.”
Rurthk looked at him silently for a second. “Whatever keeps you happy,” he said.
Kaivon glided in through the doors.
“Kaivon too,” said Dr. Wolff. “This is becoming something of a party, isn't it? What can I do for you?”
“I have a report for the captain,” said Kaivon.
Rurthk came forward and took the tablet Kaivon offered him.
“We can still jump, and we still have life support, for the moment” said Kaivon. “We're in no immediate risk –”
“Aren't we? “ interrupted Mero. “That's good. And here I was thinking we were all being hunted down by the most powerful and dangerous organised crime group in the galaxy.” He laughed.
Rurthk turned to Dr. Wolff. “Are you sure you haven't drugged him? If not, can I drug him?” He sighed and went back to Kaivon's report.
“I have determined our location,” Kaivon went on, “and began preparing an emergency jump calculation in case we are attacked.”
“Good work,” said Rurthk handing the tablet back to him. “So, the question is, what do we do now? We've played our hand and lost. Sukone and Zino are still alive. We've lost the hard drives.”
“Though we still have a million credits and the information on the hard drive,” said Kaivon.
Mero snorted. “Yeah, and they have hundreds of millions! And connections all across the galaxy, and thousands of thugs on their payroll …”
“Still,” said Rurthk. “We have access to options we didn't previously. It may not solve our problem, but it's a damn sight better than being hunted while broke. What about the information? It's highly damaging to Sukone. If we released it …”
“It would do nothing,” Dr. Wolff said quietly. “Sukone isn't a politician. Most people have never heard his name. He won't be hurt by information floating around like this.”
“What about his superiors in Sweetblade?”
“Why would they be troubled by anonymous information floating about like that?” said Wolff. They're more likely to dismiss it as some gambit by a rival.” He paused, thinking. “However … if we were to take it directly to someone who had the motive to take it seriously, and the means to confirm it …”
“Like Sukone's competitor,” said Rurthk. “Albert Wells.”
“Exactly. But again, no one cares about anonymous claims. We have to go to him directly.”
Rurthk gave him a long look. “We're on the run from one Sweetblade gangster, and you think we should run into the arms of another?”
“You know that I wouldn't willingly deal with Sweetblade if I saw any other option,” said Dr. Wolff. “But here we are, in the lion's den. There aren't many escape routes. And I fear we may have to move fast before they are closed to us.”
“Screw it,” said Mero. “I'm with Wolfy. For once.”
“I'll think about it,” Rurthk said. “But before we get to that, there's another duty I have to discharge.
Chapter 56: Painting Flowers
In his cabin, Rurthk opened his tablet, activated the bulkwave, and sent a call. While he was waiting for a response, he watched his faint reflection in the tablet's screen.
He had talked the matter over with Eloise, and they'd both tried to come up with other ideas, without success. The Outsider was mostly repaired, and the jump calculations were finished.
The screen lit up suddenly. He was connected.
This time there was a visual feed. A Petaur appeared before a blank white background: Mr. Hand.
“Captain Rurthk!” he said brightly. “I'm glad to see you're alive. Was our information helpful after all?”
“I'm afraid so,” said Rurthk. “Anyway. I keep my promises, so here you go. Everything we found on the hard drives.” He gestured at the screen to send the information.
Mr. Hand skimmed what Rurthk had sent. He smiled broadly. “That's a great help. Thank you, Captain. I wish you the best of luck in –”
“There's something else,” said Rurthk. “I want to find Albert Wells.”
Mr. Hand paused and gave him a long look. “Why?”
“Shouldn't I charge you for that information?” Rurthk asked.
Mr. Hand gave him a thin smile. “
Not if we're helping you.”
“The only way we're going to make it out of this predicament is by removing Sukone from power. Albert Wells is the key to doing that.”
“I see,” said Mr. Hand. He seemed to be thinking it over. “I suppose he would love to know this information. And you both have a common enemy in Sukone. Yes …”
“Well?” said Rurthk. “Do we have a deal, or are you going to sit there looking cryptic all day?”
“Did you take any money from the hard drives?” said Mr. Hand.
“Yes.”
“I don't have a direct contact number for Albert Wells, but I can tell you where to find him. Be warned, he may not appreciate unexpected visitors. Ten thousand cryptcred.”
“Done,” said Rurthk. He called up the money and transferred it.
“Excellent,” said Mr. Hand. “Here you go. Good luck.”
*
I've lost track of how many times I've come close to death, Olivia wrote. It's absurd. There are only so many times you can dance with a tiger before it bites you. Now all we've got is one last-ditch effort to save everything. I don't know how much longer I can keep doing this.
The letter, she reflected, was becoming more of a diary, a place to write about all of her worries. Which, at the moment, were more than a couple.
I don't even know if I'm really happy here, she wrote.
She stared at that last sentence, then closed the tablet.
“I don't have to be here,” she whispered out loud.
It was true. She could pack it all in now. Go back. Go home.
She would be safe there.
She'd be defeated, but at least she'd be safe.
She stood up and paced back and forth across the room, the possibility hounding her like a persistent wasp.
I would be abandoning them all, she thought.
So what? We're not going to defeat Sukone just because I'm around. It's not like I contribute anything. It won't make any difference if I'm here or not, she thought.
But if I stay, there's a chance I might be able to help. It's a tiny chance. But it's not zero. If I go, there's nothing I can do to help, she thought.
Unable to decide and feeling trapped in her room, she opened the door and headed outside. In the corridor to the observation lounge, she found Eloise sitting on the floor with a box of paints, adding to the mural. She was adding detail to the centre of another sunflower, picking out small details with brief, impressionistic jabs.
When she saw Olivia, she smiled up at her. “Hey, Olivia. Do you want to get past?”
“You're painting?” said Olivia.
“Yeah. I'm thinking I might add some detail. Other plants.” Eloise frowned. “Do you know what plants grow alongside sunflowers? I don't. Botany was never my strong point.”
“How can you paint at a time like this?” Olivia said.
Eloise dipped her brush into a square of grey and resumed jabbing at the wall. “There's nothing that demands my immediate attention, and it's relaxing,” she said. “And because I'll be damned if I let that bastard Sukone and his cronies stop me from living. The galaxy is for the most part an ugly place. So we need all the beauty we can get.”
Olivia said nothing.
“Do you want to try?” Eloise asked. She pushed the box towards Olivia.
“I'm not sure,” said Olivia.
“If you've got something better to do, that's fine,” said Eloise.
“I … I don't know if I'm any good at painting,” said Olivia.
“If you don't like it, we can always paint over it later,” said Eloise.
After a brief pause, Olivia sat down beside Eloise, the box of paints between them. Lacking any better idea, she decided to try her hand at another sunflower. She picked a large brush and dipped it cautiously into the square of yellow.
Holding it up to the blank grey wall, she hesitated.
“The first important choice you have to make is whether you go forward and make your mark, or retreat and do nothing,” said Eloise, still occupied in her painting. “The second is easier. It takes some courage to act..”
“Are you talking about painting or living?” Olivia asked, with a faint smile.
“You decide.”
With cautious, broad strokes, Olivia began to outline the petals. “What's the second important choice?” she asked.
“Whether to do good or not,” said Eloise.
“Sounds about right.”
As she finished the outline of the flower's head, Olivia didn't even notice that she had dropped the idea of going home.
Chapter 57: Reprimand
“Were our existence entirely predictable, it would scarcely be worth it,” said Sukone. The light from heat lamps glittered off his scales and illuminated iridescent patterns in the marble table below him. “As soon as we had life figured out, we would be finished. There would be no true challenges, no need for thought or intuition or belief.”
Zino stood before him silently, waiting for him to get to the point. The hard drives were set up beside Sukone's table, along with a computer terminal.
“One can't begrudge surprises without begrudging life itself. Take, for instance, this recent surprise. Our friend the lone Glaber, Rurthk, was expecting us. He planned ahead. He was not surprised, but we were. I do not blame you for this turn of events, Zino,” said Sukone. “You did not expect it; neither did I. And yet I find myself … surprised and disappointed that a man as skilled as you allowed Rurthk and his crew to escape.”
“Yes, Mr. Sukone,” said Zino. He could see Sukone's anger in his body language, like an immense, tightly compressed spring below the musculature. Trying to control it had driven the Varanid to be even more verbose than usual.
“I do not wish you so see this as a rebuke, my friend,” said Sukone. “Not at all. I am sure you will do everything within your considerable power to fix this problem and remove Rurthk from the scene. If there were another … failure … I fear I would have to re-evaluate the nature of our alliance. But I am sure it won't come to that.
“Of course not” said Zino. “I'll kill him. I won't be able to rest until I feel his blood running down my fingers.”
Sukone eyes him silently. “Or simply destroy his ship. This is not the time for sentimentality. Now go. I have a ship waiting for you.”
“Yes, Mr. Sukone,” said Zino. He pivoted on his heel and turned away. He kept himself calm by imagining Sukone's expression, the surprise on his face, when Zino finally turned on him and killed him.
An alert chimed. “The courier has just arrived,” said a voice.
“Aha, at last,” said Sukone. “Wait,” he told Zino, then said to the comms, “Bring him to me.”
Zino waited slouching against the wall. After a moment, the doors opened and Emine came walking through. The dull little man was one of the few people Zino hadn't imagined killing. He didn't seem worth it. Most of the people round here were so full of themselves, so certain in their power and safety, that the shock in their eyes when they died would be a delight. Emine might look terrified, but not terribly surprised.
“At last,” said Sukone. “The keystone is the most important part of an arch; you, my friend, are carrying the keystone to this plan.”
“Uh, thank you, Mr. Sukone,” said Emine. He held out two small jewellery boxes.
“No problems, I take it?” said Sukone, giving Zino an aside glance.
“I don't think so, no.”
“Excellent. Which is which?”
“This one is the one I kept on my person.”
“History is always important,” said Sukone, his giant, scaled hand hovering over the two boxes. “Never neglect history.” He took once of the boxes – Zino wasn't paying attention to which one was which – and slotted it into a computer terminal connected to the hard drives.
“My friend, Mr. Egliante,” Sukone said to himself as he gestured at the terminal. “You are mine once more.”
The screen went dead.
Sukone f
ell silent and gestured at it a few times. “No,” he said. “No …”
Emine looked horrified.
While Sukone wasn't looking, Zino allowed himself a grin. The passkey had given the wrong input. The hard drives had shut down permanently.
Sukone was silent for almost a minute, and neither Emine nor Zino were willing to speak first. The tension in his muscles grew even further.
“It's a fake,” said Sukone, pulling the crystal out with enough force to rip out part of the terminal along with it. “How has this happened?” He looked at Emine, who seemed to be trying to shrink out of existence.
“I … I don't know,” cried Emine. After a moment he added, “I … I thought something suspicious might have happened at Gunnerside, but I returned to my room immediately and checked. Everything looked fine!”
“Suspicious how?” snapped Sukone.
“There were people. I kept running into odd people.”
“Who?”
“There was a Petaur. And then an Albascene. A couple of humans.”
Sukone's gaze suddenly switched to Zino.
Zino said nothing.
“Two of my best people,” said Sukone. “Both fail on the same mission. This isn't a co-incidence.”
“The Outsider,” Zino said.
“You know what to do,” Sukone told him. “Go. Now!”
Zino nodded, and swiftly left the room.”
*
Zino stood in front of a 3D projected map of the local stars. Only the local population centres were highlighted. The Outsider's crew might hide in the wilderness for a while, but they'd have to come back to civilisation at some point. And then Zino would be ready for them.
Where could they be headed? What were their plans?
He couldn't tell. And without that information he had no idea where to begin. He could make calls, have his people look for them. But that wasn't enough. He needed more.
With a frustrated wave of his hand, he swept the map away. He needed a new approach.
