“I actually think it will fly itself. It’s going to take half the fun away and make it too easy. Go ahead and pull up the tracker on the Sparrow if you can.”
She was half worried that that system would be blocked out too, but when she pulled it up, it showed exactly one frequency being tracked, one that happened to be only a few thousand kilometers from them. Maybe Whitaker set that up through his little cylinder remote before giving it to them. Or maybe they had no idea how any of this worked. “Alright. It’s done. We’ll lose it once it’s out of range, but as soon as they get close to a comm satellite, the tracker will update us. Do you need anything else from me?”
“I’m good. We’ll be frame shifted in just a few minutes. Why?”
“I’m going to go explore.”
He spun on her and frowned. “Hey, be careful. You said yourself that there could be traps. And we don’t need you-know-who mad at us for screwing with things.”
“Relax. I’m just going to learn the layout of the ship. We’re going to have to sleep and eat here for at least a day, you know.” He sighed and gave her a quick nod of the head. She just laughed. “You keep reading your nerd books, and I’ll make sure to take care of the practical stuff.” And with that, she left the cockpit before he could get in another word.
Her current deck didn’t have much to see. Aside from the cockpit, a long corridor ran toward the aft before reaching a lift. “It’s a good thing Yvonne isn’t here,” she said, “because she would demand we put one in the Sparrow.” At the lift, separate halls split to starboard and port, leading to a thumper turret at each end. Grace keyed up the lift and saw there were two more decks, one above and one below. She tried up first but was annoyed when she was forbidden access. The bottom floor had a small bunk room, kitchen, as well as most of the engineering areas, and a small storage room.
But she couldn’t get that top floor out of her mind.
If there was one thing she’d learned from living on the Sparrow for a couple years and on the Duke’s Habitat before that, it was that the official ways to get from place to place on a ship or station were never the only ways. There were always crawl spaces, hidden ladders, ventilation ducts, and more.
The challenge took her about twenty minutes to solve. One of the engineering compartments had a display connected to the main computer, something else the Sparrow could have used to make life much easier during repairs. From there, she pulled up a complete schematic of the ship and found her solution. She keyed the intercom. “Hey Davey, I’m turning off the fans for the air recycling for a few minutes.”
“Grace. Please don’t mess around with—”
“It’ll be fine.”
The duct would have been a lot easier to shimmy through a few years ago before she’d grown those last few inches and passed Davey, but she made it work. There was a single awkward corner at the junction on the third deck where she almost chickened out, but her curiosity got the better of her, and she forged ahead. By the time she kicked off the grill and pulled herself out into the hall of the third deck, she was sweating and filthy. The third deck turned out to be the smallest with only two doors. Behind one was a spartan bedroom. Short of going through Whitaker’s drawers, she wasn’t liable to find anything of interest there.
The second door turned out to be far more intriguing. It revealed a well-furnished office, complete with a massive hardwood desk that held a commanding view of a huge window looking out to space. Unfortunately, the computers up here were locked to personal information too, but after a couple of minutes of poking around, she found something that she felt was important.
It was a framed photograph, old and somewhat faded, of a teenaged Whitaker and what could only be an older sister. She was bound to a wheel-chair complete with neck support, but she had a mischievous smile on her face. Grace suddenly felt like an intruder and almost turned away but knew that this was an opportunity she couldn’t pass up. Gingerly, she flipped the frame around and saw a few words scrawled in a thin and unsteady hand.
Love you brother, even if you are a jerk sometimes.
She’d need to find a way to record this so Matthew could see it later. Much as he tried to act like he wanted nothing to do with Whitaker, Grace knew better. Once they’d been friends, and she thought that deep down, Matthew still felt some responsibility toward the other man, if only so he could understand him better. But that was tricky given how secretive Whitaker was. This was proof that he had a past and the first real clue about it.
THANKFULLY, BY THE time they reached Mars, they came up with a better idea than searching for ‘Elwa’s base blindly. At one of the Freeport’s in orbit, they were able to get in contact with the Broker’s Alliance and send a message to Benny. It was from a source he wouldn’t recognize, so there was a chance he would ignore the unsolicited message, but they got lucky. After a bit of back and forth explaining what was going on, he gave them the orbital coordinates they were looking for and promised to let ‘Elwa know they were coming. He also gave them Matthew’s contact number.
Davey rerecorded the message a half dozen times before pressing send. Matthew’s response when it came was the predictable freak out, but he agreed with the decision to rally the Guild through ‘Elwa. So for now, they were to proceed as planned. He and Abigail hadn’t caught their assassin yet anyway but were hot on the trail. Davey couldn’t really imagine what Matthew was feeling, knowing that his mother was being held captive by a terrorist. Logan was effectively off the grid until the Sparrow got back into range of a comm relay and the tracker began transmitting again. It was a waiting game no matter their course.
A little more than two days after fleeing from the Sparrow, The Imperious Doubt arrived at the small asteroid base. To Davey’s eye, it was little more than a hangar and some living space. Warm light escaped from windows dotting the surface of the rock. Ironically ‘Elwa’s ship was far too large for the hangar and floated beside the base, connected by a slender docking tube. He reached for the comm and flipped it to an open frequency. “This is Davey Long, aboard the Imperious Doubt. I believe we’re expected.”
There was a long enough pause that he started to get uncomfortable. Grace made a face. “You sure we have the right address?”
“That’s the Queen of Sheba. We’ll give them a minute, and I’ll try—”
“Davey? Grace?” came ‘Elwa’s voice. “Are you alright?”
“We’re fine,” Davey said. “But Abrogationists have taken the Sparrow and have Yvonne and Matthew’s mother.”
“That’s what your broker tells me. Come aboard. The hangar is clear for your landing. I expect to hear the full story as soon as possible.”
The hangar was big enough for two of the Doubt, and thankfully he was able to land it without incident. He hated to imagine how angry Whitaker would be if he scratched up his ship. ‘Elwa and her men met them at the bottom of the ramp and led them to a comfortable sitting room. It had a wide observation window with a distant view of pale red Mars. As expected, she offered food and drink, which they gratefully accepted, having spent two days scrounging what little was available in the Doubt’s storage. Whitaker’s food stores were clearly that of a bachelor.
“Now,” ‘Elwa said when they were situated, “tell me everything.” They gave her the story, from their capture on Ceres to subsequent imprisonment and escape. She paced the whole while, and when they finished, she stared out the window. “And they are heading for Mars, you say?”
“I can’t see any other destination,” Davey said. “We know he’s threatened the grav plate factory in Kyoto. Maybe he’s finally making his move.”
“That’s in my mind too,” she said. “Though I can’t see how the Sparrow fits into this puzzle.”
“We couldn’t figure that part out either,” he admitted. That was just like Logan. One step ahead until he was ready for his plan to go into action. Maybe their escape would give them a fighting chance.
“So what are we going to do?” Grace asked.
Davey sucked in a breath. “And the other crews are okay with this? There’s no money to be made here, and we have no idea what Logan’s got up his sleeves.”
‘Elwa waved him off. “If not for a moment like this, then what was the Guild of Lanterns built for? If the Martian colonial governments are too busy fighting amongst themselves to see the approaching storm, then the freelancers will stand in the gap.” She smiled wryly and winked. “Besides. If that factory falls, then all our profits will suffer.”
Davey couldn’t help but smile. Ultimately, freelancers weren’t too different from mercenaries. Maybe some of them had hearts of gold, but they still needed those payouts to keep flying.
“We’ll be ready,” he said. They’d get back in contact with Matthew and make a plan, decide when and how to pick him and Abigail up, and then take the fight to Logan. Along the way, they’d have to figure out how they were going to save Elizabeth and Yvonne. And stop Logan from attacking the Kyoto factory and hastening the extinction of the human species.
There was never a dull moment, that was for sure.
Chapter 14: Devils at Odds
There will always be a tension between the concepts of justice and mercy, for they are seemingly at odds with one another. In our self and for ourselves, we will always desire the latter, for in justice, we receive what we deserve, which will never be to our liking. But in the universe at large, we crave justice.
There are of course only three logical conclusions to reach about justice in a universal sense, and through the ages, systematic structures of belief have codified each. The first is that justice is karmic, that each will receive what is due in this life. Harm one and harm will be visited upon you. But a cursory glance can see that this most certainly is not universally true, though it may apply in individual circumstances.
The second is that justice is meted out after one leaves this mortal coil. But if that is the case, it cannot be proved with any certainty, and the dead do not come back to report either way. The first and second systems of justice are not mutually exclusive, and a man may be punished for his crimes in this life, and further in the next.
There exists a third possibility, that there is no such thing as justice, but in that direction lies madness and nihilism, and if there are no scales to weigh the actions of men, then all is permitted, nothing is forbidden.
Woe to those who adopt this view of justice, for they stand before an abyss such that even the best intentions may not prevent their fall into destruction.
Luther Schultz
Judge, Rhineland Federal Court of Justice
Died 50 AM
DAMON STEIN PEELED back the bandage on his side to inspect the bullet graze from last night’s encounter with the Gaucho and Shield Maiden. They’d followed him from Arizona and ambushed him on the street in the middle of the night. In a humiliating defeat, he’d lost four men and two vehicles to the pair. He covered the injury and lowered his shirt.
He should have been annoyed that a man he’d been hired to kill was now hunting him, but instead, it was the most deliciously thrilling thing that had happened in years. The pair were either terrifyingly good or insanely lucky to get away with assaulting a team of veteran commandos like his. Probably both. Stein pulled on a combat vest and loaded it with ammunition. Cole would have to be dealt with and soon. Much as he would love to drag the game out for the sheer enjoyment of a challenge, the longer it went, the more likely the Gaucho might get the upper hand.
He needed a reversal. A weak point to hit and draw Cole out. Unfortunately, he’d already exploited both the mother and the broker, and most of Cole’s allies were elsewhere. Perhaps giving the little colony on Ganymede a visit would provoke the confrontation he was looking for. But that was millions of miles away, and they were both here. Still it was a practical solution for a last resort.
But the Shield Maiden, she had a past in Doch Rossiya. The old crone had been her broker. He smiled as he holstered his pistol and slung his bag across his back. Now there was an idea. After all, she had a part to play in this as well, and if he was burning bridges, that was one he could bring down in flames.
Threaten the crone, draw out the Shield Maiden, kill the Gaucho and fulfill his contract in front of the crone, and then kill her for good measure. There was a delightful poetry to all of it. Then he could turn his attention to the Abrogationist.
And then he’d be free to make new enemies.
He opened the door to the main hideout. His dozen remaining commandos looked up, poker games and newspapers forgotten. He smiled, knowing they’d be more interested in an operation than hiding out for another day. His handpicked team was a special brand of amoral psychos.
“Load up,” he said. “We have a target.”
TATIYANA MEDVEDEV FELT her grip slipping, everything she cared about sifting through her fingers. It was like sand. No matter how hard she tried to hold it, it escaped, falling down the hourglass to pool at the bottom. Most of her life was down there now, and her gnarled hands couldn’t turn the glass back over.
On her screen was the resignation of another of her freelancers. Fallen in love and getting married. Ellie’s letter reeked of false gratitude and self-righteous nonsense. Like the rest, she had used her until she no longer needed her and then abandoned her like so much refuse. She closed her screen and leaned back in her chair, squeezing her eyes shut to will away the tears of anger. Ellie deserved no emotion from her, the ungrateful little whore. There was nothing any of them could offer her. They were no better than men. Nothing but disappointment and betrayal.
She reached for her cane and slowly stood to her feet. Her cave-like office felt dark and constricting for once. Perhaps letting in a little of the afternoon light would be calming to her nerves. She hobbled to the window and pulled the curtain back, wincing at the sudden brightness.
This was Abigail’s fault. She’d taken that girl in, given her a long leash and built a mighty reputation for her as the Shield Maiden. An invincible woman of steel. And she’d squandered it, throwing her lot in with that priest. Ever since then, her empire had been crumbling. Her girls no longer thought they needed her and struck out on their own or turned to new lives altogether. Even her eldest, Milena Drugova, was drifting away, caught up in the priest’s ill-fated guild. But they were all wrong. No one cared for them like she did.
That was why she hired that filthy assassin to kill Matthew Cole. She would never soil someone she cared about with a mission so distasteful. But like all men, even Stein had disappointed and Cole survived. Worst of all, the animal was off his chain, if reports from Arizona were to be believed.
She closed the curtain and shuffled back to her desk. Much as it pained her to do so, she would need to be honest with Ellie in her reply. She stared at the screen and began to type her response.
Dearest Ellie,
I struggle to find the words to convey my disappointment in you. I had thought you wiser than to throw away everything we have worked for over the past four years. I have labored endless hours to find clients for your unique skills, and this is how you repay me? By leaving me on a whim for a man you hardly know, who can scarcely care for you? This simply will not do. I do not accept your resignation, for I know in my heart that you will reassess your foolish decision and come to regret it.
She paused briefly, considering how to phrase the next passage, but her thoughts were interrupted by a noise somewhere in the building. She touched her
comm. “Natalya? What is going on? Natalya. Answer me at once.”
Gunfire erupted when the manor’s automated defenses activated. She could hear the motion tracking canons in the main lobby. The building was rocked by an explosion, and one of the cannons fell silent.
The door slammed open and Natalya ran into the room. “Mistress! They are here for you. You have to get out now. I’ll try and stall them.”
Tatiyana shook her head gravely and waved her cane in her stewardess’ direction. “Fleeing is not within my physical capabilities anymore. I shall not be run down like an animal but will face death with the poise and dignity required of one of my stature. Still, I should rather you not be here when that happens, my dear. And even then I don’t intend to succumb, not if you can bring aid.”
Natalya’s eyes widened. “Then you mean to stall with—”
“Yes, dearest. You must find help, or else I fear I shall perish.” She felt under her desk for the concealed release. The hidden escape passage opened behind her. “Hurry, or else we will both be caught. And then what should become of me?”
The young woman made as if to protest, but then slowly nodded and backed toward the opening. “I’ll... I’ll call anyone I can. Ms. Drugova is back in town.”
Tatiyana smiled. “It will take more than Milena Drugova to repel this assault.” Another explosion rumbled through the building and the second canon went silent. “Leave me.”
Natalya disappeared, pulling the door closed behind her. She stared after her for a moment before turning to face the entrance to her office. She rose slowly to her feet and moved to stand in front of her desk. She straightened her formal pantsuit and stood tall, like the empress of a great empire.
She wasn’t surprised when the door opened and Damon Stein marched in. There was that same madness in his eyes that she had seen when she hired him months ago. What had seemed useful at the time had turned its blade upon her. He smiled as he looked around the room. “I was expecting more of a fight. Surely one of your famed freelancers is hiding behind the curtains.”
After Moses: Wormwood Page 40
