by B. V. Larson
I narrowed my eyes, thinking fast. “I’ll do as you ask, if you identify yourself.”
The cowl shifted then. I thought to see—but no, it couldn’t be.
Then the cowl fell back fully, and I recognized the man’s face. It was none other than Edvar Janik, a smuggler I’d dealt with in the past.
It was Edvar who’d been storing Beta clone embryos in the snows of Antarctica. When we’d first met, he’d been working for the Stroj.
But Zye had killed him on that occasion. How had he survived?
“The last time we met,” I said aloud, “I seem to recall that Zye broke your neck in a fury.”
He rasped again, and it was an odd sound. A chuckle? Perhaps.
Pulling his cowl away from his neck, he showed me the scars and stitching that encircled his throat. The region was a livid red.
“I see,” I said. “Very well. True to my word, I will come.”
“Remember, Sparhawk—come alone!”
I closed the channel and stood up. I almost ran into Zye as I did so. She was suddenly standing near my chair.
“What’s wrong?” she demanded.
“Nothing,” I said. “I’ve been called down to Earth that’s all. Look after things up here for me, will you Zye?”
Full of suspicion, her eyes followed me as I got up from my command chair.
-2-
It’s good to be in charge at times—and this was one of those times. I didn’t have to get permission from a higher ranking officer to leave the deck, I simply stood up and cleared my throat.
“First Officer Durris,” I said loudly.
Durris turned from his boards, looking at me with an upraised eyebrow. “Captain?”
“I’m heading down to Earth. You have command of Defiant in my absence. Keep all our refitting operations in motion. Plan on leaving orbit on schedule in thirty-nine hours. I shall return before that time.”
“Yes sir…” he said, frowning.
People had begun to look up from their work and take notice. It was to my credit, I supposed, that they were surprised to hear I was leaving the ship when we were so close to departure. There were many confused looks, and I counted several frowns. A few crewmen even awarded me an open-mouthed stare.
But only one of them dared to give me an argument.
“Sir?” Durris asked, stepping after me. “What about our engineering people?”
“Commander O’Donnell and her team will be returning to serve aboard Defiant,” I said. “Her transfer request has been denied. They’ve all had their transfers denied.”
“But I haven’t seen anything from CENTCOM on that,” he objected. “My duty rosters still indicate—”
“First Officer,” I interrupted firmly. “They’ve been denied.”
He stared at me for a half-second, then nodded. “I understand, sir.”
I turned to leave the deck, but I found him following me.
“Captain?” he asked quietly. “I gathered from your orders that you’ll be gone for some time… May I ask what this is all about?”
“Yes, you may ask—but I won’t answer. I have business to attend to down on Earth. I’ll be back as soon as I’m able. Keep the schedule, manage it tightly, and don’t take any nonsense from O’Donnell.”
“A family matter, Captain?” Durris asked.
I shrugged noncommittally. My family was one of the Great Houses of Earth. My father, Sparhawk the Elder, was a Public Servant. He’d lost his bid to win the World Presidency, but he was still a major political player on Earth.
The chief consequence of my family background was that everyone assumed all my problems were political in nature. The truth was I did my best to avoid the tangled in-fighting between the ruling families.
“Right sir,” Durris said, tossing me a salute. “I won’t disappoint you. Good luck with… whatever it is.”
He turned around and bumped into Zye, who’d come up behind him to stand alarmingly close. For such a large person, she could move with remarkable grace and stealth.
“Excuse me,” he said and hurried back to his navigational table.
“Zye,” I said when we were alone, “I’m going down to Earth. I’d like you to stay here and help Durris aboard ship.”
Her expression was flat and unimpressed. “I’m going with you.”
“Even if I give you a direct order?” I asked.
“Please, don’t do that.”
I sighed, then turned to head for the sky-lift. The ship was still docked with Araminta Station. We took the tube to the central wheel and headed for the sky-lift in the center of the orbital structure. It was a long way down from there to Earth, but we’d done it many times before.
Together, we stood in the sky-lift’s large lobby, waiting for a car to arrive. During this time, I was very aware of Zye’s scrutiny. She was trying to figure out this odd situation. She wasn’t a sophisticated woman, but she was a dogged one.
“You’re in some kind of trouble, I gather?” she asked. “Or perhaps it’s your parents?”
“It’s not my family,” I said, glancing at her. “It’s Chloe.”
She stiffened at the name. Zye tolerated Chloe Astra, but she didn’t like her much. Some might have said she was jealous. If she was, she’d never made her feelings completely clear to me.
“I see,” she said. “What do you need me to do?”
I laughed. “I’ve already told you. I’d prefer that you stayed aboard Defiant to help Durris.”
“No, I meant—”
“I know what you meant, Zye.”
I considered taking her into my full confidence. In modern times, law and order were tricky things on Earth. Normal people depended on the Guard or their local constabulary to dispense protection and justice. But among the Great Houses, which included both Sparhawk and Astra, things went differently. We had what amounted to private security forces, and we lived by a different set of rules.
If I contacted the official authorities, for example, that fact would immediately become a public matter. Every detail—real or imagined—would be leaked to the press by someone seeking a payment. Media would then descend upon House Astra. Camera drones would peep into each of the mansion’s thousand windows before the first officer showed up on the grounds.
At that point, it would be obvious to Janik I hadn’t followed his instructions. If I called for help there was no way I could keep control of the situation. He would be alerted and the conflict would escalate. Chloe might well die before I could reach House Astra.
No, this had to be done carefully. I would see what he wanted and then attempt to extricate Chloe from his grasp. Hopefully, this could be done without bloodshed.
Zye watched me closely as I thought things over.
“Zye,” I said apologetically, “I don’t think I can take you with me this time. The situation is delicate.”
She eyed me with a mixture of disapproval and growing concern. I knew I could use her help, and that made turning her down all the more difficult. She was always a good person to have at my back in a fight.
I wasn’t sure I wanted her along this time, however. She’d been the one who had throttled Janik in the first place when we’d caught up with him in Europe. She hated the man due to his mistreatment of Beta “children”—meaning frozen embryos from her home planet. If she learned he was involved, things were bound to turn violent.
“You’re going to House Astra,” she said, “and you wish to do so alone?
“Yes.”
“Now I understand. You’re seeking a final farewell sexual encounter with Lady Astra. I’ve read of such things.”
I wanted to protest as her suggestion was both rude and inaccurate. My mouth opened, but I managed to shut it again.
“You cleverly fooled the crew, sir,” she continued. “I must compliment you on that point. None of them suspect the truth.”
I managed to stop myself before arguing. If she believed the situation was purely personal, that served my purposes w
ell.
“I’m glad you understand,” I said at last. “Now, I believe the sky-lift has just arrived. If you would kindly head back to the ship—”
“I still want to accompany you to the surface. If I may, Captain?”
Looking her over, I considered. If I refused her now, she might become suspicious all over again. That might lead to further inquiries, the precise thing I was trying to avoid. The truth was there was little for her to do aboard Defiant anyway, now that her permissions had been reduced. Durris would probably find he could work with more focused zeal without her brooding presence on the command deck.
“Very well,” I said at last. “Let’s go.”
We boarded the next car and began the long descent. At first, the falling sensation was sickening, but I soon adjusted.
The ride down through the mesosphere into the stratosphere went smoothly. It wasn’t until we hit the upper troposphere that the sky-lift began to jiggle and bump.
Zye had stopped questioning me, and for that I was grateful. I didn’t like misleading her. I wasn’t good a discussing anything other than the truth, and I suspected I might be caught at any moment.
Fortunately, Zye could stand in one spot for hours doing nothing other than breathing and blinking now and then. This appeared to be one of those occasions when she felt no need to participate in small talk.
We made it another few kilometers down into the night sky, watching a stirring brew of dark clouds gather below. They seemed to be clustered around the umbilical itself.
“Looks wet down there,” Zye commented, following my gaze.
“Yes, a storm is brewing.”
“Perhaps you should delay your trip to House Astra.”
I glanced at her. “Why?”
“Don’t you two enjoy mating outdoors?”
I made a choking sound. “We’ve only done so once—have you been spying on me, Zye?”
She shrugged. “Spying seems like an inappropriate term. It’s my job to guard your person.”
The lights in the sky-lift flickered then, and the umbilical shivered. I heard a distant rumble of thunder from below us.
“Odd…” I said. “I don’t recall seeing a thunderstorm on the schedule for tonight. Weather control is going to get defunded if they can’t manage to keep a proper storm-schedule.”
Zye frowned. Her eyes were unfocused, and I knew she was getting a call on her implant. She’d only just gotten fitted for it. She hadn’t relished the process or the result.
She stared ahead, and she spoke woodenly. “Yes, he’s here. No, his implant seems to be functioning.”
“Who is it, Zye?” I asked quietly. “Durris?”
She shook her head. “No. It’s Lady Astra.”
That dumbfounded me. “She can’t get through to my implant directly?”
“No.”
“Relay the signal over to me. Share it.”
“How do I do that?”
Trying to control my impatience, I helped her through the steps with the interface. Most humans became adept with implants when they were children. Zye was an exception as such devices were unknown on her planet of birth.
Finally, Lady Astra could be seen standing in front of the two of us. I was at a loss. There was no sign of her attacker, no gun to her head—I didn’t know what to think.
“William?” she asked. “Why are you on the sky-lift? Are you coming down to see me?”
“Yes,” I said, “but what happened to Janik?”
“Who?”
“Edvar Janik. Listen Chloe, you might be in danger. Either that, or you’re someone else who’s trying to fool me. I talked to you not an hour ago. I saw a man hold a gun to your head. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she said worriedly. “There aren’t any strangers here. My agents have secured the grounds for the night. I’ll order them to double the guard and seal the entrances.”
My eyes narrowed in suspicion. Could this be part of someone’s trick? I was on my guard now.
“What were you wearing the first night I met you?” I asked her.
She looked embarrassed. She looked at Zye, who stood stoically at my side. “My nightgown, as I recall.”
“Correct. I believe you are the real Chloe… but how could someone have hacked my implant? Guard technology is the best.”
“Captain,” Zye interrupted, “can I assume you have deceived me? That you’re not heading to Earth for a sexual encounter with this woman?”
Both Chloe and I looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry if I misled you, Zye. But I received a message—supposedly from Chloe—that said she was in danger. Now she appears to be fine, and I’m at a loss to explain this.”
“The key question now,” Zye said, “is who did this and why? Apparently they didn’t actually kidnap Lady Astra, but they want you to believe they did.”
I nodded, thinking hard. “They sent me a fake message attempting to make me come back down to Earth alone. That can only mean they’re after me—not you, Chloe.”
Lightning flashed outside. The strike was quite close.
“The weather system,” I said suddenly. “Something’s gone wrong. Chloe, check the reports. Is there any information concerning this freak storm?”
I repeated the question, but Chloe’s holographic image had frozen in place. Soon, she vanished entirely. Chloe was gone. Her image no longer flickered on my retina. Only Zye stood at my side.
The umbilical shook again, and the lift shook with it. Looking down, I was surprised to see the tube. A large bulge rippled upward along its length, like a soap bubble that was about to burst.
I knew I shouldn’t be able to see the umbilical at all from this height. When you were up higher, due to a slight curvature and various atmospheric conditions, you could occasionally catch a glimpse of it—but now that we were down so low it should have been out of sight under our feet.
“Away from the walls!” I shouted, backing away from the shimmering force-fields and glass-like polymers.
Other passengers around us on the car were pressing their foreheads against the inner membrane, straining to get a better view. They looked at me in surprise.
“Back away!” I repeated. “Move to the center of the car!”
A few of them did as I ordered. Most ignored me or glanced around in confusion.
Zye’s heavy hand was on my shoulder. Following my own advice, we moved to the center of the car.
“What’s wrong, Guardsman?” a kid with big eyes asked me.
“I don’t know, but this situation is unsafe.”
Something struck the outer membrane then, making it flash and shift colors. The car lost power and people cried out, staggering backward. The floor tipped, and then the emergency lights came on. The car stopped descending, and the sudden braking drove many to their knees.
Tones I’d never heard before on the sky-lift began to wail—emergency klaxons.
So far as I knew, the transportation system had never had a major accident since its construction. Then again, I was pretty sure this wasn’t an accident.
“That was a power-bolt,” Zye said. “It struck the tube. This can’t be an accident.”
“No,” I said with certainty in my voice. “They have to be tracking me, and they’re firing at the tube. There’s no other explanation.”
Zye looked at me. “How could they be tracking you?”
“My implant... Zye, you’ll have to rip it out.”
Implants were located at the top of the spinal column, at the base of the skull. There was an external nodule, a soft nub that could be used to access the wetware. Occasionally the units failed or required updates that couldn’t be done through software downloads.
“I hate these things,” Zye said, reaching back and touching her own implant. “I should never have let them ram a spike into my brain.”
The tube wall flashed orange and magenta. A stronger hit had been scored. People screamed and fell to the floor. High-altitude air shot into the cab in a singl
e freezing gust. The protective membranes must have failed for just a fraction of a second.
Could that have been their plan? Something so simple? Puncture the membrane long enough to allow the atmosphere to escape, to inject the thin, freezing air from twenty kilometers up into the cab to do the killing for them? If they managed it, I realized it would look like an accident. The deaths would be blamed on the freak storm. A lightning strike—perhaps that would be their cover story.
Reaching back to the base of my neck, I pinched the fleshy bulb that I found there. It slipped from my fingers as I tugged.
“Rip it out, Zye!” I shouted. “I can’t get a grip.”
She grabbed me, turned me around and put a massive thumb and forefinger on the bulb. “This is going to hurt,” she said.
“Do it.”
She did it. Her hands were at least as strong as mine, and she had a better angle. She tugged at the implant, and it ripped loose like a fleshy root. The threaded plug gave way as did the skin covering the region. Blood crawled down my back in a warm gush.
It felt as if part of my scalp had been torn free, which was fairly accurate. I was stunned by the shocking agony that followed. I almost pitched forward on my face when she let go of me, but I managed to keep on my feet.
“Are you all right?” she asked, looming close and looking concerned.
“I’ve been better,” I admitted.
“Here it is,” she said.
A warm slimy bulb was slapped into my palm. It felt like a hot tadpole, and it wriggled slightly in my grasp.
“Thanks,” I said, “with any luck, they won’t be able to—”
Another bolt struck. This one was closer and more focused than the earlier shots. Maybe they were getting impatient, or desperate.
A hole was punched through the force-field walls of the umbilical this time. The rupture was about as big around as a man’s head.
The hole glowed and sparked. The smart polymers and force-fields tried to stretch, to cover the wound in the skin of the shielding, but they were slow to do so.
Could the entire umbilical be losing power? The cars had stopped moving, but that was standard procedure during one of these rare breakdowns.
Hearing a whistling sound, I realized the warm atmosphere of the cab was gushing out. We were too high up. No one could survive long without an oxygen tank at this altitude.
