"Watch the corridor." Cletus dropped into the captain's chair and brought the HUD into full display. It took several minutes before he sank back.
"The crew is dead," he finally said. "Only there's something odd about this ship. It's not from the Babylonian fleet."
"It has the proper configuration, but I see what you mean. There are modifications I don't understand."
"It's a pirate ship. We boarded a pirate ship and eliminated its crew." Cletus touched the comlink inside his helmet and worked until he contacted the Shillelagh through one cleaned sensor pod at the ship's circumference. He quickly explained what had happened.
"Where is the other ship? There were two," his father asked.
"It's standing off, waiting for orders. The captain of this ship was in command of both vessels."
"Get back to the airlock and─"
"I don't think that's a good idea, sir. Leanne and I have one prize. We can take another."
"Don't risk it. The Shillelagh can take the brunt of an attack."
Cletus switched to a tight bam cast with Leanne and said, "How many sensors did you clean off on the Shillelagh's lasers?"
"Not many. The dreadnought is still vulnerable."
Even as Leanne told him what he already knew, Cletus worked on the HUD and sent a partial distress signal to the other pirate ship.
"That will lure them closer. In a few minutes, I'll send another asking for pickup on two suits─us."
"You have done well," Leanne said. "Let them invent their own reasons for what went wrong here. The more you communicate, the greater the chance of warning them away."
"Here they come. Let's get to the emergency airlock aft."
"It is too small for both of us in the exos." Leanne showed her bulk by turning about and banging into fixed instrument panels on the tiny bridge. Even being careful, the exo destroyed some of the equipment. "I'll go first. When they open their outer airlock door, I'll fire a rocket directly in and blow open the inner hatch."
"I can do it. There's the risk they will shoot at anything they don't recognize, and these exos are top of the line compared with the one I cut up when I entered the docking tube."
"I am a better shot with the rockets. If you don't have a line-of-sight shot with a laser, you won't breach the airlock and the element of surprise will be gone."
"Go on," Cletus said reluctantly. She knew the exoskeleton operation better than he did, and the few rockets they carried were small and more anti-personnel than designed for attacking solid structures. He wished he had the warbot wrapped around him now. "I'm on the way after I shut down this ship's power."
"Send a microburst to the Shillelagh and have a boarding party strip the vessel. There is no reason it can't serve us. They were thieves and murderers, after all, and their spoils should go to a good cause."
"Us," Cletus said, smiling.
He finished the shutdown procedure and swung about, bulling his way through the small cockpit and down the corridor. The emergency airlock was located on the far side of the ship. He stepped over more than one dead pirate. Every body reinforced his belief this wasn't a military vessel. No two were dressed alike and their armament, those who carried any, ran the gamut from ridiculously small to laserifles capable of blowing open an airlock.
"Ready." Leanne squeezed into the emergency airlock and flashed a single beam toward the approaching gunboat. "They are coming in, thinking they are rescuing us."
Cletus started to wish her luck. There was no call to do that. Her fighting prowess matched his own, except in the areas where she was more highly trained. Again, he wished for the warbots. The huge robotic fighting device felt right to him, an extension of his arm and brain. Given more practice, he knew he could match or exceed her skill. The ship shuddered as the airlock opened and spewed Leanne across the gap between.
Cletus wasted no time closing the exterior airlock door and crowding in to follow her. He wanted to leave the low pressure throughout the gunboat to aid the Shillelagh crew in their looting of useful equipment and supplies. The cycle completed, he shoved into the airlock and immediately opened the exterior to follow Leanne. He shot across the space in time to see a feathery trail dart from her exo and head dead center of the opened airlock. The explosion was as horrifying as it was gratifying.
By the time he reached the portal, Leanne had entered the ship. He saw reflected glare of a firing laser.
"You need help?"
"I have taken the bridge. All are dead."
"Then I'll move on to the engine compartment and clean up there."
Cletus found himself floating when the artificial gravity cut off. With a deft twist and judicious use of his jump jets, he arrowed along the corridor to a closed hatch leading to the engine compartment. As he approached, he fired his laser. The carbon composite portal vaporized, and he burst through. He grabbed a stanchion inside the hatch, swung about and used a bit more of the power in the exo's legs to come to a halt. It took a few seconds for him to jack into the engineering system.
"The engines are cold. I've shut them down. It'll take a couple hours to cycle them back to useful levels."
"There is a logbook showing these two ships are hijacking two or three cargo ships a month. They are quite good at piracy, and the Babylonians cannot locate them."
"They must have an informant source at the docks to let them know which ships are worth taking and what their schedules are. Any notation who that is?"
"It is not our concern."
"We can let the Babylonians know. Think of the havoc these two gunboats must have caused. Without trade, most planets would suffer."
"Your terraforming lacks attention to detail," she said.
"Unlike Far Kingdom?" Cletus grew angry at the implication Babylon-—or Ballymore─needed off-world trade or it would suffer. They had struggled to remake the planet during the Great Farewell when entire nations had built ships and Lifted for planets to escape the carnage of their home world. "You were lucky to have a more receptive planet, one almost perfect. Ballymore still requires─"
"I have contacted the Programmer General and salvage crews are on the way. He wants to Lift from this system in two hours."
Cletus stifled angry outburst by turning off his radio. He should have reported to his father, not Leanne. And the plans for the ships and eventual departure should have been given to him first. The Far Kingdom envoy overstepped her authority. He became even angrier when he remembered that she had no authority. She was only an observer. He was Commander in Chief Armed Forces.
He made a second pass through, checking the panels to guarantee no trouble for the boarding party. The thought that his crew were the looters sobered him. The Shillelagh was hardly better than the pirates who preyed on helpless cargo vessels.
He worked his way along the corridor to the airlock, considered returning directly to the Shillelagh by himself, then waited impatiently. Leanne came up, pressed close and magnetically linked.
"Race you back to the ship," she said, her tone light and almost joking.
She applied her jet before Cletus could answer. They circled the other pirate gunboat, saw the swarm-covered expanse of the Shillelagh's hull and then dropped into the airlock. Crew members nodded to them as they left to ransack the pirate vessels. As Cletus stepped into the Shillelagh, his knees buckled slightly. He corrected using the exo's power to counter the artificial gravity. Adaptation to zero-g came quickly for him. Returning to normal acceleration required concentration.
He and Leanne stripped off their exoskeletons. He lingered to instruct two of the cargo bay crew how to burn off any of the swarm contaminating the suits, then went to the command deck where Leanne spoke earnestly with Donal. Seeing the two of them scheming, leaving him out of the planning, caused a rush of irritation. He strode forward and spoke to Captain Sullivan.
"Have the boarding crews light up the engines and use the exhaust to wash down our hull. With two gunboats working, we ought to have our hull cleaned much faste
r than sending crew out with laser welders."
"Right away, sir." Bridget Sullivan pulled on haptic gloves, reached out and moved through the HUD, finding the right layers to relay his orders.
"That's a good idea, Cletus. I want to leave this system as soon as possible when the engines are ready to take maximum power." Donal Tomlins dropped the auxiliary control helmet into its cradle and rubbed his eyes. He looked ten years older. Seeing his son studying him, he said, "Don't worry. I'm only tired. The stress has worn me down more than I expected. That and these helmets suck more from me than the Blarney Stone."
"You are used to having the master computer to carry out your orders," Leanne said. "While capable, the one aboard this ship is primitive in comparison."
"It is that," Donal said.
"Father, with the evidence aboard the two ships, we can alert Babylon Space Command and track down the pirate's base. This will give us entry to their planetary controller. With such assistance, it will be a matter of time before we can refit the Shillelagh and return to Ballymore."
"If we went back now, we wouldn't stand much of a chance, son."
"But with the help of the Babylonians, we─"
"They're a Class 7 system. Bare subsistence and needing vast amounts of trade goods. Ballymore is a Class 3, almost self-sufficient."
"You're saying we can't get the repairs and upgraded armament here?" Cletus frowned. He had not considered the difference in technologies. Outfitting the Shillelagh with a bows and arrows when they needed rail guns and genius missiles had to be done at a more advanced dry dock. "We can Lift for Far Kingdom."
"We are a Class 2 world," Leanne said, "but such a Lift will be dangerous. Do you think Weir by now won't have sent new envoys to Far Kingdom to cement his position as legitimate ruler?"
"He'll have declared us outlaws." Donal nodded in agreement. "To make the Lift will require at least one more stop for recharging since we can't get everything we need on Babylon. By then, Weir will have sent a half dozen envoys."
"But you spoke with Supreme Leader, and he knows you." Cletus knew he argued against himself. Far Kingdom acted in whatever way benefitted Far Kingdom. Trade with Burran was important but not worth getting caught in a civil war between a deposed Programmer General and the man who currently controlled the Burran government.
"This is our problem, son. And we can deal with Weir if the Shillelagh is in top fighting prime."
"Become pirates, disrupt trade, put pressure on Weir and create civil unrest. Make his position precarious." Leanne sounded as if she recited a litany of how to destroy a planet's economy. Cripple Burran and the other nations would die a lingering death. Before that, Eire and Uller would wage war on Burran.
"He deserves to be executed for treason, but this will put incredible hardship on our citizens."
"Cletus, your concern for the people does you justice, but we have no allies unless we arouse our own populace. Then Weir cannot succeed and will be toppled from power, him and all his cabal."
"If we can't go to Far Kingdom and Babylon is no good, where do we go?"
Donal smiled crookedly. "Not everything is in the master computer. There is one place loyal to me that can give us all we need─and more. Much more. It requires a fully functional, powered Lift drive."
"Lift to commence when the swarm is burned away, Programmer General." The captain sat back in her chair, looking as strained as Donal Tomlins. "I've never seen these coordinates before. Is there even a star system there?"
"Oh, yes, there is. A decidedly different one." Donal quickly blanked the coordinates and set himself to the solitary task of preparing for the Lift.
Leanne nudged Cletus and took him aside to whisper, "Let's go to my quarters."
"Yours? Why? We need to be certain everything is ready for the Lift to wherever we're going."
"My quarters now, if you want to collect your reward for such outstanding field service."
"Reward?" Cletus looked into the woman's dancing eyes and understood.
They were together when the Shillelagh Lifted. The sensation of a woman's naked skin against his, moving slowly, feeling her responses build and then the mind-twisting StringSpaceLift made him wonder why he hadn't experienced this before. Then he realized he had never met a woman quite like Leanne Chang before, and that explained everything.
Chapter Seventeen
Kori Tomlins stared at the blank wall, elbows planted on a bare wood table in front of her. She didn't see the cracks or peeling surface or ugly color that hadn't been popular in two decades. She saw a map of Burran, complete with military posts marked clearly, precise notations showing response times to border incursions by both Eire and Uller guerrillas. More than this she saw plans for civil uprisings, not only in Eastminster but in other large Burran cities. It all came together, and it all existed in her head.
She and Bella had been constantly on the move for weeks, dodging military patrols and police. Whether they sought her or believed she was dead mattered little if they swept her up in their increasingly effective capture nets. Once they identified her, she was certain to be executed. Goram Weir had to remove her permanently to maintain the publicly released fiction that she had gone crazy with grief over her daughter Ebony's death and had murdered Bella before committing suicide. Or had the lie changed? Keeping up with the constant flood of news releases from the capital, all with Weir's fingerprints on them, only made her angrier.
A hesitant knock came at the door. She wrapped her fingers around a small lasepistol in her lap, turned slightly so she had an easy shot and then called out for whoever was there to enter.
When the door creaked open enough to see her visitor, she laid the pistol on the table and motioned for Herold to sit. He looked around like a trapped animal, his dark, squinty eyes darting about. He was buck-toothed and had a nose the size and color of a turnip. Thin coppery hair had been swept straight back on his almost bald head. One ear was burned away, and scars crisscrossed his face like a street map of Eastminster. No one gave him a second glance out on the street, especially not the police hunting for guerrillas. Whatever a freedom fighter looked like, it wasn't like this drowned rat. That made Herold all the more useful, that and his cleverness in making and planting bombs.
"Well? What happened?"
He smiled at the question. His protuberant teeth could not hide the gaps where several in the back of his mouth were missing. He pulled a chair up and sat to her right at the table. Eager with his news, he leaned forward. Her nose wrinkled at the stale sweat and decaying food odor.
"As you instructed, Mistress. The first bomb was a dud. The bomb squad arrived. The second, the one they had not noticed, removed seven of the ten technicians working on the first. I overheard a senior officer declare that they would use only robots and drones from now on." Herold smiled even more broadly. "I have planted significant bombs in their robots already."
"Before they powered them up for use? Good. What of the demonstration tonight?"
"Oh, it will be spectacular. Not even the Programmer General could evaluate the effect on the people when hundreds are killed."
"The Programmer General," Kori said. She spoke with such venom that Herold recoiled.
"I apologize. I should have said Weir. I did not mean your husband would─"
"He abandoned me. He and Cletus came in those robotic suits, and he left me to die."
"I am sure─"
"You weren't there," she snapped. "When I could have been rescued, when I and Bella could have been taken to safety, he left me."
"You do not believe he was killed after a bad Drop?"
"Weir's lies are pathetic. Even when he had experts like Sean Scarlotti manipulating the news, he never delivered believable stories. Oh, my husband is alive. No matter what Weir says, my husband is alive." She gripped the lasepistol so hard, her finger slipped and pressed the trigger. A thin pencil of coherent light drilled through the wall where she had stared so intently before Herold interrupted her.
"My entire family is useless to me. Ebony died and Bella is worthless for what I need. She huddles in a corner all day and cries."
"She is very clever and has helped with some of my designs." He smiled in remembrance of those bombs.
"When I forced her to. She lost her lover, her sister and brother and father. She spiraled into despair and doesn't have what keeps me going."
"What's that, Mistress?"
"Hatred."
Herold licked his cracked lips and looked around for an escape route. He half stood, then sank down into his straight-backed chair, gripping the seat on either side of his thin shanks. Trying to speak, he looked like a fish gasping for water and finding only polluted air.
"What more do you have to tell me?"
"You must meet with the cell leaders to coordinate their activities. Random trouble is too easy to predict and counter. Weir is not the Programmer General your husband was, curse his name, but he is good enough to anticipate anything less than a clever battle plan."
Kori had read about government opposition back on Earth and had adopted the cell system for her resistance. She knew the cell leaders but none of those in their individual cells. Each of the members knew of others in different cells. Her instructions could be passed throughout a large spider web of provocateurs quickly, without use of public communication. Word of mouth had proven safer than any comlink the government might tap. Drones always presented a problem, hovering high enough in the air to be unnoticed but equipped with sensors able to pick up the sound of dandruff falling to the pavement. But drones could not be everywhere all the time, no matter how many were arrayed against her.
"The first attacks will be against the drones. Cut off surveillance and the government will go berserk worrying what is happening."
"Good, Mistress, good. Have you contacted the leader of the Eire freedom fighters?"
"Freedom fighters." She spat the name out. "They seek to enslave Burran and take our resources. If we didn't control the space ports and off-world trade, they would have launched an invasion years ago."
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