by AM Scott
Oh, what if she could find a weapon? The slightest bit of hope stirred. If she could get her hands on a real weapon, before the sleeper woke, she could truly escape. With a weapon, Saree could easily overcome one man, one sleeping man. He must sleep like a rock. Or no one had bothered to wake him for Ferra’s escape. Either way, he was sleeping now—Saree had a chance. Not much of one, but it was a chance. Even if the tunnel opened onto a sheer cliff, if she could get close enough, Hal could fly in close, and she could jump or maybe he could lower a cable or something. Suns, anything. She’d take the slightest chance, the biggest risk. She just wanted off this planet. Forever. Now.
Saree looked back toward the opening, carefully not looking at the man in the bed. Some beings could feel the weight of someone staring at them, even if they were sleeping. Nothing moved. There was the bed and the man on it, a small gap between the cavern wall and the end of the bed on her side of the cavern and nothing else. But there—what was that? The faint glimmer of a force screen across the tunnel opening. Blast. She had to find the control and turn it off. Saree looked again. It might be the kind meant to keep insects and flyers out; it didn’t look bright enough to keep a person from exiting or entering. Maybe she could just jump through it? But she needed somewhere to jump to, and that would make noise, a lot of it. So would going through a force shield, even a low power one.
Saree rose and rolled her shoulders very slowly, making sure nothing clanked or clinked, holding her tiny knife securely in her fist. She took in a breath and stole into the cavern, walking toe to heel, feeling each step before committing. Slow is smooth, smooth is fast. Saree scanned the room continually, using her peripheral vision to catch any movement from the being occupying the bed. One, two, three careful steps and she was halfway to the bed. About to step again, she stopped, arrested by the sight of a long cylindrical object resting against the far wall of the cavern near what she presumed was the head of the bed. A rifle-type weapon? The chances were very good. Now, go over and get it or just leave?
Her stinging, burning, achy hands itched to grasp a weapon. Sure, she had her tiny knife, but it was just that: tiny. The longing for the security of a real defense was intense. Weapon, then escape. Saree glided over to the head of the bed, carefully not looking at the bed itself. She reached down and grasped the barrel, pulling it up and into her arms, resting her cheek against the stock. Oh, by the egg of Zarar, the relief of being armed again was staggering. She backed slowly away to the end of the bed again and stepped sideways toward the opening.
Something moved in the darkness beyond the force screen, a very faint whirring coming to her ears. A remote? Was Hal looking for her? Or was it an Inquisitor remote, watching for enemies? She had no way to tell. Saree moved closer to the window, leaving her weapon up and watching the bed for movement. But she had to see what was out there. Peering out into the darkness, she looked for the suggestion of movement. There—it was there. Saree stared. A small remote, really nothing more than an anti-grav unit with a small box attached. A comm unit to Hal would be good. Saree backed up a step, looking around the edges of the opening for the force field controller. It had to be here someplace. She took another small step backward and froze. A round, cold spot pressed hard against the back of her neck.
“Looking for this?” a man’s voice snarled in her ear while a small black box with a bright red light waved in front of her face. “Put the weapon down, slowly. It’s unloaded, but if you damage it, I’ll take that damage out on you, times ten.”
Dread, cold as deep space, slid down her spine. Saree bent her knees to set the butt of the rifle on the floor, and carefully lowered it to rest against the cavern wall with her right hand. Blast, blast, blast.
“Backpack next, same way, nice and slow,” he said, the growling menace clear.
Saree shrugged out of the pack, all too aware of whatever weapon was at her neck, and lowered it to the floor on the left side, away from the rifle. The strap slipped just a little as she struggled to keep the knife in her hand but release the strap. Maybe she could kick it out as she moved? Hal could find her that way. Maybe.
“Good. Hands up in front of you, wrists together.” Letting the knife slide into her palm, she closed her hands in loose fists, raised them, and shuddered as a pair of flex cuffs encircled her wrists and tightened. The man chuckled, a nasty sound. “Turn toward the bed, then kneel on it.”
Blast it all into a big black hole! Saree stared at the bed. She did not want to get on that bed. The man shoved her, hard, sending her face down on to the bed. She had just enough time to lash her foot into the backpack, trying to kick it out, but she wasn’t sure it actually went anywhere. All that water and the box were heavy. And there was a force screen.
Hard hands grabbed her left ankle and pulled, another hand grabbing her foot, hard, working something up and over her boot, probably another flex cuff. She jerked against the hand, reflexes firing. Now was the time to act, before she was completely tied down. Three, two, now!
Saree rolled violently, pulling against the restraint on her ankle to slide her body down the bed. She kicked up and out with her right foot, aiming for the man’s neck or chest. At the same time, she jack-knifed her upper body off the bed, grabbing for his shirt and bringing her tiny knife up to his face. Saree’s foot impacted but slid off.
He roared and grabbed her left shoulder, hard. Saree planted her right foot on the floor, launching herself harder into him, rather than pulling away like he probably expected. The flex cuff on her ankle bit in, but she ignored it and slammed the man into the tunnel wall and kept pounding her tiny knife into him, hoping to hit a critical spot on his neck. Once, twice, then his hand grabbed hers and pulled her down to the bed, slamming her shoulder into the bed frame.
“Light!” the man yelled. Bright light caused her eyelids to slam shut. Saree forced them open. She squinted up into the barrel of a laser pistol, a pair of eyes narrowed in fury glaring above the black steel. A drop of blood hung from a cut on the man’s cheek, then it dropped and splatted on her chest. “You’ll pay for that. Oh, yes, you will,” the man hissed, face red with rage.
Saree felt her every last hope dry up and drop like a rock on a heavy world, a sun into a singularity. She’d managed to run into the worst possible room. Saree stared hopelessly into Dalm’s furious face, his blood dripping, teeth bared and jaw muscles jumping.
She should have dived out the force field head first. Then she’d only be dead.
Chapter 23
“Ready?” Ruhger asked Lashtar.
Lashtar tilted her head and a shrugged, a tiny smile lifting just one side of her mouth. “As I’ll ever be. I pray the Mother protects me, because that’s the only way I’m going to survive.”
He snorted. “You and me both, Sister.”
“Lightwave Alpha Shuttle, Shuttle Fortuna Lucia.”
“Go ahead, Fortuna,” Grant said.
“I have picked up a signal from Scholar Sessan. It is weak, but it is there. I am sending a remote to this location.”
A red dot appeared on Ruhger’s tactical display. “How quickly can you get the remote there, Fortuna?” he asked.
“I am enclosing it in a thrust pod. It will open in approximately one minute. If you jump now, you could reach that location in five minutes or less.”
“I’d prefer to have some real intel before I send myself hurtling to Gliese. If this signal isn’t the Scholar, we may be wasting effort and time. And the element of surprise.”
“Acknowledged, Captain Ruhger.”
Was Fortuna Lucia an AI or not? If it was a program, it was a really good one. How could you program in that much flexibility and intelligence without sentience? Ruhger shook his head, impatient with himself. He didn’t know enough about AIs to know the answer. Did anybody really know where knowledge changes over to self-awareness? He shook his head. It didn’t matter right now. He had a mission to execute. Ruhger rolled his shoulders and did some slow squats, warming his muscles.
; “Scholar Sessan is in a tunnel opening on a cliff.” A dim picture of grey and black appeared then changed over to the typical green glow of a night vision camera. The outline of a person stood in the middle of a black scene, another possible person lying at the first person’s feet, on a bed maybe? “Scholar Sessan is the person standing.”
Hope flared. The Scholar was still free. Time to go. “Grant,” Ruhger called, moving to the airlock, “execute!” The gravity generators whining, Grant sent them plummeting down. Lashtar stumbled into his back but stabilized herself before she knocked both of them over. He should make Grant fly more often; he obviously needed some practice. Ruhger glanced at his holo. Or maybe he didn’t—they plummeted down right on course; it was a combat reentry. Maybe Ruhger needed practice standing during a combat drop. He snorted in derisive amusement. He never thought he’d do this ever again.
Ruhger made it to the airlock and secured it behind Lashtar. They waited, a little impatiently. Although really, he could wait forever before making this jump. It had been a very long time since he’d done a combat drop. Ruhger sighed. He was sure he could make the drop, but the landing was a whole ‘nother question. Snapped legs, ankles and necks were all too common on combat drops, even among those who did them often.
He turned to Lashtar. “Sister, let’s do this as safely as possible. I’d rather be slower and arrive in one piece.”
“Agreed.” She snorted. “I can’t believe I’m doing this at all. I’m too old for this mud-hugging.”
“Actually, so am I.”
Lashtar snorted again, with a tad more humor this time.
“Drop zone in thirty,” Grant said.
Ruhger started the opening sequence for the outer airlock hatch.
“Fifteen… ten…five, four, three, two, go, go, go!”
Ruhger launched himself out the airlock on the first ‘go,’ diving headfirst along the programmed path. Reaching the first altitude trigger, he spread his arms and legs wide. The wind buffeted him as he fell, feet and hands spread wide, back arched, stabilizing his position. He reached the second trigger altitude and deployed the suit. The membrane of the combat drop suit snapped out with a jolt, rattling his teeth as it caught the air. He was out of practice. Back in the day, he could slide the suit open, into the slipstream without a single bump. Lowering his head and arms, Ruhger dove, matching the trajectory outlined in his tactical display.
“Scholar Sessan has been captured,” the Scholar’s shuttle said. “She remains in the same room. There is a force field across the room opening, but it is weak. It will not keep out a human impacting at drop speeds. An experienced being could continue a combat drop and land inside the room, but an inexperienced one might land on Scholar Sessan. She is being secured to a bed. The bed is placed approximately one third of a meter inside the room and extends one point four meters.”
“Fortuna, can you use your remote to penetrate the force screen just before our arrival? That way, we could slow sufficiently to enter safely and not impact the Scholar.” He hoped. Suns, he was an idiot for even considering the idea. Dropping into an enclosed space, across two people? Crazy.
“It will most likely destroy the remote.”
You’ve got to be kidding me. It could destroy me. “Is this unacceptable?”
“No. It will be done. Another remote will be deployed. The remote will impact the force shield no more than three seconds before your impact.”
“Copy, Fortuna Lucia. Thanks. Break, break. Lashtar, stay with the plan. Don’t land in the room. Land on the escarpment above and set a rope so we can get out. Check with me when you’re set.”
“Copy, Ruhger.”
Even completely enclosed in the drop suit, the wind rushed by, buffeting his helmet and wing. Ruhger spread the wing slightly to slow himself, staying on the correct trajectory. The tactical display showed his velocity, but with nothing but starlight, he may as well be falling into a black hole. It was probably a good thing—if he could see the ground coming closer, especially the rugged spires of the Badlands, he’d slow and fall short of his goal. Ruhger kept adjusting his wings, staying on the track. Lashtar, after a short bobble when she deployed her wing, also stayed right on track, on his six. Surprising just how quickly all of this came back to him—Ruhger grinned, rolling slightly. He’d forgotten how much fun a wing suit could be.
The tactical display showed his destination nearing. This was the tricky part. Ruhger was sure he’d never landed in such a confined space—a big enough challenge. The bigger challenge was his vulnerability during landing. He had to keep his arms out and away from his body to properly flare and kick in the repulsors at exactly the right second and angle to kill his momentum, or he’d tumble and break his neck. Or leg, or another important appendage. And during all that, he couldn’t deploy his weapon. It had to stay locked to his body.
Normally, combat drops were done with a group, to defend each other while landing. But with the tight space, Lashtar wouldn’t be able to fire anyway—the rock of the Badlands would be between her rifle and the target. Sending Lashtar to the plateau above was a smart move. First, she’d have more leeway in her landing; she could come in with more of a flare and slow herself for less impact. Two, if Ruhger broke his fool neck, she could still swoop in and get the Scholar. Three, they wouldn’t hit each other during the landing. His landing was tricky enough alone. He visualized the steps and sequencing as Ruhger dropped like a barely aerodynamic rock. Which was an accurate description.
Hah. The green glow of a heat signature stood out in the middle of blackness. At least his target was obvious with the night vision vid in the top of the helmet. It was an all-too-small target—three meters in diameter. Ruhger deliberately relaxed his tense muscles—except the ones holding the wing open—and wiped everything but the landing out of his mind. As he closed with his target, swooping to come in at a shallower angle than planned, he could see bright lights shining in the room. Ruhger switched to regular vision, knowing the night vision would flare in normal lighting, leaving him blind. Darkness closed around him again, his target a white pinpoint, growing larger with every second.
Ruhger closed with his target, running through the landing sequence in his mind. The white glow of the room resolved into more specific shapes and the details cleared. He zoomed in. One person was spread flat across a bed at the entrance of the room and another crouched on the far side, at the end of the bed. Ruhger couldn’t get enough detail to tell if the crouching person was at the head or foot of the person spread-eagled on the bed. The crouched person jumped up and walked toward the center of the room, beyond his line of sight. A second screen appeared in front of him, and Ruhger could see the standing man clearly, near a piece of furniture at the back of the cavern. Fortuna Lucia must have fed him the remote’s view. The man turned—it was Dalm.
Blast it all into a black hole! Ruhger pushed his fury and fear for the Scholar away, packing it in a little ball in the back of his mind. He couldn’t help her if he blew the landing.
“Penetrating force shield now,” the Scholar’s shuttle told him, the close-up of Dalm disappearing.
Light flared brightly and he winced. He should have anticipated that. Forcing his eyes back open, Ruhger saw Dalm stumble, then run for the bed. No, run for a weapon, a rifle of some sort, at one end of the bed. Dalm grabbed the weapon, raised it, sweeping the weapon from side to side as he edged toward the cavern wall at foot of the bed. He moved smoothly, with a professional’s stride.
Clearly, Dalm knew someone was coming, but hadn’t spotted Ruhger. He refined his target and found himself grinning. Just before flying into the cavern, Ruhger pulled his legs and arms into his body and threw his head back, spinning into a feet-first position. He slammed his legs and arms back out, fully deploying the wing again. But now, Ruhger flew through the air on his back, feet first. Watching his tactical display, he penetrated the remains of the force screen with a jolt and fired his repellors. Adjusting his landing path slightly, Ruhger’s repe
llors smacked into the enemy, jolting him again, and sending Dalm flying to the back of the cavern. Ruhger’s suit turned off the repellors in the split second before his feet touched down, and he ran forward, bringing his rifle up to his shoulder at the same time.
Stalking toward the enemy, scanning through the weapon’s sights, he quickly found Dalm. He sprawled on the floor at the back of the cavern, halfway under a… sani-box? Ruhger huffed but kept his weapon up. Blue chemical gel with bits and pieces of toilet paper, waste and other nasty things covered the man. Dalm’s body was contorted—his back and neck were almost certainly broken. Ruhger brought up his life scanner. Yep, dead. Ruhger fired once, right into his brain to make sure. Ruhger wouldn’t let this animal continue to prey on vulnerable beings. He turned away and scanned the rest of the room. No movement. “Lashtar, Ruhger. Status?”
“Down safe. Setting bolt now.”
“Copy. One tango dead. Clearing now.”
“Copy.”
Ruhger swept the rest of the room through the sights of his weapon. No one except the person on the bed, but there wasn’t a door on any of the entrances to this room, so he’d have to stay alert. Ruhger moved sideways to the bed, keeping the doorway in his peripheral vision. His landing hadn’t been quiet. And the enemy’s impact with the sani-mod was probably louder. The firing whine of his laser rifle was quiet in comparison.
The person on the bed was face down, tied at each ankle, and she was jerking her arms and legs desperately. Ruhger pulled his supporting hand off his weapon and drew his utility blade, cutting through the flex cuff on this side with one swipe. Moving around the bed, he cut the other ankle free and the person rolled, revealing the Scholar, arms still secured above her head.
