by Simon Haynes
With a frustrated growl she jerked both arms, hard, but it was no use. Whoever had tied her up knew exactly what they were doing.
And then it was too late. She heard the swish of the door, saw a sudden glare through the hood, and heard footsteps approaching the bed. Rough fingers grabbed the hood, pulling if over her head and yanking out several stray hairs at the same time. Blinking owlishly in the bright light, she stared up at Smith with watering eyes.
He stared down at her, shock etched in every line of his face. Then, comically, he looked under the bed, before throwing the hood aside and storming off. Seconds later she heard him shouting nearby, his angry voice echoing down the hallway.
"You stupid, incompetent fools," he raged, really losing it. "One simple task, that's all it was, and you had to screw it up. Now you've lost me time, cost me a fortune in fuel and—"
There was a low mumble, indistinct, and then she heard a crash
"Don't give me any of your damned excuses. You, turn this ship around this instant. Set course for Dismolle!"
The reply was louder this time. "Sir, we don't have enough fuel. We burned most of it on the slingshot."
"Are you telling me we can't go back?"
"Not until we fill up at Vasquez, sir. The settlement has facilities for—"
"That hick town? You're joking, man! Last time I filled up there, they sold me tainted fuel. Nearly blew the damned engines."
"We could land at the primary spaceport," suggested another crewman.
"Do you have any idea what they charge in landing fees? And their fuel, it's twice the price of anywhere else." Smith hesitated. "No, it's the settlement. Plug in the course and land as quick as you can." He paused again, and Harriet realised he was addressing the men who'd captured her. "As for you idiots, get out of my sight, right now. If anyone so much as opens their mouth I'm going to space the lot of you. Is that clear?"
There was another murmur, and then she heard Smith's footsteps as he strode towards her cabin. She had a sarcastic comment ready, but when she saw the look on his face she decided it wasn't the time.
"Well, this is an unexpected turn of events," he said, his voice deadly calm.
Harriet tried to shrug, but with her arms tied above her head it was less than effective. "I know about Sandon's box, by the way."
His eyes narrowed.
"You didn't need to go after Alice," continued Harriet. "You only had to ask."
"Don't be ridiculous. If you know about the box, you know what's inside it. Sandon would do anything for that niece of his, and you can be certain he left her instructions to find the cargo. And that cargo … my cargo, was worth a fortune. Eight years, I've been scratching around, trying to survive, because everything I had — everything, and more besides — was in that shipment." His eyes glittered. "I'll get it back, and nobody's going to stop me."
"Take me back to Dismolle, and I'm sure Alice will cooperate."
"Of course she will, now I've got you as bait."
Harriet smiled. "You know that big robot your people ran into? Be careful your bait doesn't catch her instead."
Smith grabbed her wrist, squeezing until the bones creaked. "Keep giving me cheek, miss, and you're going out the airlock."
She met his gaze, unflinching, and he swore under his breath. Then he was gone, his footsteps receding up the passageway. Harriet took a deep breath as the door closed. Smith had threatened her, sure, but it seemed she was safe enough … for now. She might still get out of this, as long as she was patient and did what she was told.
"Screw that," muttered Harriet, and she set to work on the ropes.
Chapter 17
The ladder ran up inside the fighter's belly, ending in an area little bigger than a cupboard. There were small doors on all four walls, with a narrow arch in the rear wall leading to a spiral staircase. While Alice went to look up the stairs, Teresa opened one of the bigger lockers, rummaged inside and pulled out a heavy jacket with a fleece lining. "Put this on," she said, handing it to Alice.
"Why?"
"Listen kid, if you want to come with me you'll have to follow orders. It could save your life."
Silently, Alice donned the jacket. It was too big, and when she did it up it hung off her like a sack. It was also uncomfortably warm.
"Good. Now get up to the flight deck while I close up."
Alice took the ladder quickly, the metal steps clattering with her eager footsteps. There was a handrail, the brass buffed to a shine from years of use, but she spurned it and ran upwards, sure-footed. When she emerged on the carpeted flight deck, she paused to stare. There were two seats up front, each moulded from a single piece of grey plastic, with thick cushions for support. They had wings to protect the occupants' heads, and the armrests held control panels covered in switches, knobs and status screens. Laid out before the seats was an even bigger collection of controls and displays, set into a brushed aluminium panel which curved from one side of the cockpit to the other. There were dual controls, with an aircraft-style joystick for each seat, and a set of throttle levers on a shared console in between.
She turned to her right, where there were two more seats, these intended for passengers. They lacked controls and status screens, but they still had six-point safety belts and the large, padded headrests. The sun beat down through the canopy, and what with that and her run up the steps, Alice was much too hot in the heavy jacket. She was tempted to take it off, but Teresa might carry out her threat to leave her behind. So, she perched on one of the seats and tried to figure out the safety harness.
There was a heavy thud from below, and the daylight which had been shining up the stairway was cut off. Lights came on, and then she heard Teresa climbing towards her, saw the woman's elongated shadow on the wall like some twisted, distorted monster.
Teresa stepped into the flight deck and, ducking her head under the canopy, made her way to the front two chairs. She sat in the right-hand one, then gestured at the other. "You can ride up front, as long as you don't touch anything."
"I won't," promised Alice, as she slipped into the left-hand seat. There wasn't much room, and what little space she had seemed to be filled with more controls and screens. She just hoped she didn't sneeze, because if she jumped suddenly her elbows were sure to change their course, or activate the jump drives … or even the self-destruct.
She watched Teresa fastening the harness, and copied her actions. The buckle was complicated but she eventually managed it, pulling on the adjusters until she was clamped to the chair so firmly she could barely breathe.
"Tower, this is Zulu five eight," said Teresa, speaking into her mic. "Request clearance for immediate departure."
"Stand by, five-eight. We have a heavy on final."
Teresa pulled a face.
"What is it?" asked Alice.
"A heavy is a big freighter. They come down pretty slowly, so this could take a while."
"Can't we dodge them?"
"Not legally, no." Teresa thought for a moment. "Tower, I have a child on board with condition eight. Any chance of a quick departure?"
There was a delay from the tower, and Alice looked at Teresa enquiringly.
"Condition eight is a kid chucking a tantrum," murmured Teresa. "They're pretty understanding about these things."
"Can you make course two-two-five before you reach a thousand metres?"
"Sure."
"Clearance granted, but be quick about it or my job's on the line."
"Scrubbing that last, Tower. And thanks." Teresa pressed a button, and for a second Alice thought the ship had blown up. There was a cough, followed by the loudest bellow she'd ever heard. The fighter vibrated like an unbalanced washing machine, and her vision blurred despite the thick, padded seat. Teresa adjusted a control, and the noise abated … a little. She pointed to a headset dangling from a nearby hook, and Alice put it on. The noise was muffled immediately, and she heard Teresa's voice through the speakers. "Sorry, should have warned you about that. Now, ar
e you set?"
"I guess," said Alice nervously. She'd travelled on many ships before, but the raw power of Teresa's fighter was overwhelming.
"Hang on, then." Teresa eased a pair of throttles forward and the ship rose slowly into the air, still level with the ground. Then, with practiced ease, she simultaneously pulled back on the stick and shoved the second pair of throttles to the stops.
Alice was rammed backwards into her chair, her body suddenly ten times its usual weight. The noise blasted through the headphones, shaking her skull, and the vibration and acceleration was like being strapped to a massive firework.
Hopefully without the big bang at the end.
Before Alice could get used to the motion Teresa shoved the stick to the right, bringing the fighter round in a tight, powerful turn that left Alice's stomach dangling somewhere in mid-air. The sky swung wildly, the wing to her left was flexing more than she believed possible, and she was convinced they'd lost control and were heading for a crash. But instead they levelled off, and then Teresa hit the after-burners.
The fighter leapt forward with a growling, ear-splitting roar, and the scenery blurred past. Overhead, through the canopy, Alice caught a glimpse of the descending freighter high above them, its huge bulk all but hidden by the flames jetting from its landing thrusters. Then it was gone, vanishing behind them as though it had never existed.
Once they were clear of the spaceport — and, given their speed, maybe even clear of the whole continent — Teresa pulled the stick back. The fighter reacted instantly, the nose rising until Alice could see nothing but blue sky and clouds. Then, as the sky began to darken, Teresa finally cut the after-burners and throttled back. "Okay?" she asked.
Alice's mouth was bone dry, and she swallowed once or twice before replying with a curt "Sure."
"Good. We can't stay at full throttle for long. Run out of fuel that way." Teresa checked the instruments. "Once we clear the atmosphere I'll use the main drives."
"Those were only the secondaries?"
"Yeah, just thrusters. The big ones would smash every window for a hundred miles."
"Wow."
"Don't worry, we'll catch Tyron," said Teresa grimly. "Hopefully, before he … well, let's just hope your sister is okay."
"Yeah, I owe Harriet a lot." Alice changed the subject. "Do you have any weapons on this thing? I saw the mounts, but—"
"No, of course not. You can't go around putting lasers and missiles on a private ship."
"So how do you survive? Space is dangerous, and a little ship like this—"
"I use my wits."
"Well I hope they're fully loaded," remarked Alice.
Chapter 18
In the cabin aboard Tyron's ship, Harriet was still trying to free herself. With the hood removed, Harriet had been able to take proper stock of her surroundings. As she'd already discovered, the head of the bunk was made from smooth metal tube and there was no way of freeing her wrists. However, the tubing at the foot of the bunk had a kink in the middle, and the metal was pinched into a sharp protrusion.
Harriet moved down the bunk as far as she could, then raised both feet and began the long, slow and painful process of sawing through the rope. Painful, because every now and then her feet slipped, and whenever that happened she scraped her ankle on the sharp metal.
It took several minutes, and her stomach muscles protested like crazy, but the rope weakened, and then, at last, it snapped. With her legs free Harriet was able to shuffle higher up the bed, giving herself enough slack to reach a rough weld where the bed frame joined the smooth tubing. The metal wasn't sharp by any means, but it was enough. She sawed back and forth, wrenching her arms repeatedly until the rope finally parted.
Harriet threw aside the pieces of rope and stood up … then had to sit down again. Her ankles were numb, and her legs felt wobbly and uncooperative. She didn't know what they'd used to knock her out, but it certainly hadn't worn off yet.
After a moment or two she tried again, staggering across the cabin to the desk. She leant on it for support and opened drawers and cupboards, looking for anything she could use as a weapon. A gun would be best, but by this stage she'd have settled for a commemorative dagger, a paperweight, or a sock filled with credit tiles.
Nothing.
Frustrated, she turned to the door. She could stay in the cabin, trapped, or she could sneak around looking for a hiding place. Well, she wasn't going to lie around waiting for Tyron to come back, so after a brief hesitation she made her way to the door. Her legs felt stronger now that circulation had returned, and by the time she activated the door controls she was able to stand by herself. The passage outside was flooded with light, and it curved away in both directions. Harriet could hear voices to her right, floating down a ladder which led to a circular hole in the ceiling. The other way echoed with the rumble of the ship's engines.
She turned left and strode along the passageway towards the rear of the ship. On the way she passed several doors, all closed, until she came to a larger, more solid door with a badge that read 'captain'. She paused at that. If there was a gun anywhere aboard ship, it was bound to be in there. Then again, what if Tyron was in the cabin right now?
Then she heard a distant shout from the flight deck, and she smiled to herself. Tyron was venting at the crew, which meant she could give his cabin the once-over. The door slid open, and she stepped inside. Tyron's cabin was large, with a comfortable bunk, a wooden desk and an easy chair. There was a safe set into the wall, with an old-fashioned combination lock on the front, and Harriet's eyes narrowed at the sight. If Alice's box was anywhere, she'd lay good odds that's where Smith kept it.
She crossed to the safe and tried the door, but it was locked. Then, with one eye on the door, she searched the desk and drawers. The bottom-right one yielded the prize she was after: a double-barreled blaster with a grey rubber grip and an indicator showing a full charge. She'd only used one weapon in her life, but this was the same principle and she'd soon configured it for medium power and a wide spread. She was facing multiple enemies, and she wanted to take them all down at once.
With the gun in her hand she felt ten times more confident. For the first time, she felt like she might get out of this thing alive. Then, just as she was revelling in her good fortune, she heard footsteps. The door was open, and she could either hide behind the desk or try to surprise whoever it was.
Moving quickly, she darted to the doorway and stood with her back to the bulkhead, the gun resting on her shoulder. Then she held her breath, and hoped that whoever it was, they kept going right past.
They didn't.
A man entered the cabin. He was shorter than Tyron, and heavier, and he was wearing a pair of greasy overalls. He was looking down at a thinscreen held in one hand, and as he stepped towards the desk he started his report. "Captain, I've finished the check on the starboard engine, and—"
Without hesitation, Harriet stepped forward and pressed the gun against his spine. "Make a noise and I'll blow you in half," she whispered, putting every ounce of conviction into her words.
— ♦ —
Teresa's ship roared away from Dismolle, rapidly leaving the planet behind. Alice was grateful for the thick jacket Teresa had given her, because the air in the fighter's cockpit was freezing, and every time she breathed out there was a thick cloud of vapour. Her fingers grew cold, and she tucked her hands in her pockets to try and stay warm.
Then she turned her attention to the heads-up display projected onto the canopy. It showed a map of the system, with the six local planets along with their orbital paths, and in the centre, the primary star. There were three or four other ships moving between the planets, and the one she wanted — Smith's, with Harriet on board — was marked in red.
Smith's vessel was heading towards the far reaches of the system, where both of the outer planets were following their respective orbits. Each of them was bigger than Dismolle, and although she'd never visited them she knew a few facts about them from
one of Bernie's geography lessons. Cortes was a warm planet with active volcanoes, and, as far as she knew, a handful of scientific outposts. Vasquez was temperate, with forests and giant oceans that spanned the globe. There was one small city, not much more than a town, and a couple of settlements.
If she had to guess, she'd say Smith was heading for Vasquez. It had a dodgy reputation, and was exactly the sort of place he'd favour. She couldn't really picture him landing at a scientific outpost.
"He's heading for Vasquez," said Teresa, confirming Alice's guess.
Alice hid a smile. For once, Bernie's lessons had been useful. "Can we catch up with him?"
"Yeah, but there's no point. He's not going to pull over for us, and I don't want to follow too close, either. He might decide to dump the evidence, if you know what I mean."
Alice did. "What if he jumps? What if he's not going to land on Vasquez at all?"
"If he was going to jump he'd have done it already." Teresa checked a display. "I'm going to fly right past him and orbit the planet until he arrives. Once I know which settlement he's chosen, I'll set down first. That won't look as suspicious, and we'll be ready for him on the ground."
"And then we'll storm his ship and get Harriet back."
Teresa glanced at her. "We might try negotiation first."
"We don't have anything to offer."
"He doesn't know that. You're Peace Force, and for all he knows you've got a command cruiser on the way to arrest his entire crew. We might be able to play on that."
Alice's eyebrows rose. "The Peace Force has cruisers?"
"Not in these parts, but it could be a good opening gambit. Rats like Smith will always run from a superior force."
"Yeah, but he'll stop running as soon as he checks his long range scanner."
"Don't worry about that." Teresa tapped the console. "The Navy stripped the guns when they sold this thing off, but they didn't take everything. I still have a few tricks up my sleeve." Teresa altered course a fraction, and eased the throttles forward. The engines rumbled, and their marker on the system map began to race towards Vasquez. They shot past the slower-moving red dot indicating Smith's ship, and before long the planetary disc started to grow in front of the fighter's nose.
