Nimbus

by Jacey Bedford

The four figures crouched behind the machines while death blasted out from guns positioned in the workshop’s four corners. The first two out of the tube made it to safety, but the second pair took two consecutive hits and fell close together.

  Cara tucked in behind a solid bench, Hilde to her left and Gwala to her right. Ben and Syke had taken shelter behind a hefty looking cabinet. Another of Syke’s men went down behind the first two, but he was conscious and using the bodies as a shield. From that angle, he fired off two quick shots and one of the intruders fell in the far corner.

  “No need for anyone else to get hurt,” Ben shouted. “You’re outnumbered.”

  A fusillade of shots answered. Pity they wanted to play it that way. Cara felt at the edges of the room to pick up ambient emotions. There was better definition now. Fear, naturally enough, determination, anxiety, and—worryingly—someone was getting a real kick out of the situation.

  *Syke, do you have an Empath with you?* Cara kept the communication tight, not knowing whether the intruders were psi-techs.

  *Negative. I have five Telepaths and one Finder. The others all have receiving implants.*

  *Any one of yours likely to be getting a high from this?*

  *I doubt it.*

  Ben frowned at her from behind his cabinet, knowing something was going on, but not what it was.

  *Someone’s loving this,* Cara said. *A real loose cannon. Thinks he knows something we don’t.*

  *Explosives, do you think?*

  *That would be my guess. Or maybe they have reinforcements around the corner.*

  *How many of the intruders are psi-techs?*

  *Hard to tell. All of them, I think. I’m still trying to sort them all out from each other without giving anything away.*

  One of the intruders rolled forward out of his corner, obviously trying to change the status quo. He hurled a canister, Cara ducked one way, Ben the other, but instead of an explosion, there was the hiss of gas. He wasn’t going to get far with that. They all had helms and breathing tubes. But gassing them hadn’t been his intention. As she came upright, Cara saw they’d changed position. There were now four of them behind the terminals.

  *I’d bet my breakfast that’s Pav Danniri behind the terminal,* Ben said. *Something about the way she moves.*

  Mother Ramona hailed Cara. *There’s an attempt to hack into our systems from Red One. We have J.P. Lister here. As fast as they’re breaking down barriers, he’s building them. He’s damn good, but if you can stop them, that would be excellent.*

  *Are they looking for Dido’s files?*

  If they are, they won’t find them. Dido keeps all her work close. None of it is on the station’s system. I think most of it is in her head.*

  *Good to know,* Cara said. *We’ve trapped them. They’re outnumbered, but they’re not giving in. I hope you’ve sealed those blast doors down tight.*

  *Don’t worry about us. You all stay safe.*

  That was easy to say, but not so easy to do. Cara picked up that someone was highly amused, but radiating tension and anticipation.

  *Is Pav Danniri the hacker?* Cara asked Ben.

  *I doubt it. Strictly the physical type. She’ll be the hacker’s minder.*

  *Activate your sound baffles and visors,* Syke said.

  Cara did.

  Syke threw two screamers into the far corners of the workshop. Without sound baffles, Cara would have been reeling from the noise and blinking from the ultra-bright light. Even if the intruders had baffles and goggles, it would have taken them precious seconds to activate them.

  Ben must have thought the same. He surged forward, Gwala and Hilde right behind him. Ballistic weapons cracked and pulse pistols whumped and whined, whumped and whined.

  The intruders were distracted enough for Cara to crack the wall of mental silence around them. She identified Pav Danniri, obviously in charge, but she wasn’t the one whose excitement and delight had been bleeding through. That was coming from someone at the console. He was excited because . . . Cara couldn’t quite get the detail, but it involved an explosive device no one else knew about—one that would rip the station apart from the inside. All he had to do was to wait for the download to finish, bounce the information straight off to the ships out on the station’s perimeter and—boom.

  Cara felt like insects were crawling down her spine.

  *Suicide bomber, Ben. I think he’s wearing it. Or it could be small enough to fit in his pocket.*

  You couldn’t reason with someone who was willing to give his life to blow you up. But why? Maybe he was unbalanced and suggestible, or maybe he was the victim of illegal neural reconditioning. It had happened to Cara once—not to the extent that she would have blown herself up, but it was easy to see how it could. She guessed the rest of the crew didn’t know they were on a suicide mission.

  “Pav Danniri, is that you?”

  “Benjamin? You’re supposed to be off rescuing folks from Chenon.”

  “Sorry to disappoint. You working with a new crew?”

  “A girl’s got to eat.”

  “No, not ever again. Eat, I mean. You brought a suicide bomber with you. A present from Crowder, I believe.”

  Cara felt a jolt from the bomber. In a panic he checked the download, but it hadn’t completed. She could see one of the figures crouched behind the console was struggling to rise. His fingers were fumbling for something. She didn’t have time to worry about it. She reached into his mind and without knocking him unconscious—which might have detonated the device—held him still.

  “Suggest you take his fingers off the trigger very carefully, Danniri,” Cara called. “And do it now. I’m not sure how long I can hold him.”

  “Got it. Get out of his head.” Danniri’s voice was accompanied by a whump and a whine. Somewhere behind the console a body slumped to the floor. Thank goodness she’d given warning. Being attached to a person as they died could seriously hurt—or worse.

  “Still want this job?” Ben called. “That’s twice Crowder’s been economical with the truth. Want to give him a third chance?”

  “Are you offering a deal?”

  “Maybe. Are you likely to take it if I do?”

  “Maybe.”

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  MKHULU

  “ARE YOU SURE ABOUT THIS?” JESS JESSOP asked as Ben held out his wrists for shackles. “Surely there’s no need for—”

  “If we’re going to do it, let’s do it properly, Jess. I said I’d give myself up to answer charges, and I will. You tell me Rodriguez is a man of his word, and since you are, too, that’s all I need. What’s left of Chenon is safe now. Just some mopping up to do, but the Nimbus may strike again, anywhere, anytime.”

  It had taken a massive air and ground offensive to stop the Nimbus’ attack on Chenon. It would take some time to sort out everything, especially considering they’d taken some of the Nimbus’ troops alive and were now trying to solve the problem of what to do with them.

  Jess ran a hand through thinning hair. “You know I’ll do my best, but Crowder and the Trust—”

  “I know, but I’ve given myself up to the Monitors. The Trust can bring charges, but unless they jump through judicial hoops, they can’t take me into their custody.”

  “Your witnesses—”

  “Following under their own steam as we agreed. You’ve made all the arrangements?”

  “Rodriguez has. He was somewhat intrigued by the list.”

  “They’ve all taken part in this convoluted series of events.”

  “I never thought you’d get a sworn statement from the Lorients with Jack Mario to deliver it. They must owe you big-time.”

  “Their story will come out, and Jack is as good a man as any to state the case without revealing anything that isn’t relevant.”

  “Such as their current location.”

&
nbsp; “Exactly.” Ben smiled. “Jamundi is off the map, and we all intend to keep it that way. It’s already been threatened by the Nimbus. I don’t want any more trouble for them. They deserve their happy ever after.”

  The Nimbus forces on Chenon had been defeated by the megacorporations and the Five Power Alliance throwing ships and troops at it on a scale unprecedented in galactic history. That kind of help wouldn’t be available for Jamundi, so it was better to keep it hidden from view.

  Jess nodded. “I understand. Is everything else sorted out?”

  “I hope I’ve thought of everything.” Ben grinned. “That usually means I haven’t, but I hope there’s nothing big enough to bite me in the butt.”

  Jake was bringing Ben’s witnesses to Earth in Solar Wind, people who could tell the story of treachery and deceit going right back to Hera-3 when Gabrius Crowder and Ari van Blaiden combined forces to bring a new platinum-producing colony under the sole control of the Trust. Wenna’s testimony would help with that.

  Jack Mario and the Lorients’ sworn statements should cover Olyanda. Morton Tengue had stepped up to relate the story of Ari van Blaiden’s involvement, and wherever Tengue went, Gwala and Hilde weren’t far behind.

  There was Jake, himself, who had played his own part in losing the ark carrying thirty thousand settlers in foldspace, and then rescuing it again with Ben and Cara.

  Mother Ramona had actually volunteered to come, too. He would never have asked her in a million years, and had hoped for nothing more than a sworn statement from herself and Garrick, but her willingness to appear personally spoke volumes about friendship and loyalty.

  Then there was Cara, of course. He hadn’t asked her to come, but she was coming anyway. Dare he hope she’d forgiven him? Or if not entirely forgiven him, perhaps she understood that taking Liv into space had been the least bad option. Her story was so deeply intertwined with his that it would be sure to come out, and she was better off telling it herself. He’d made sure that as a major witness, she was safe from arrest on her own account.

  Clearing Ben would exonerate the whole of the Free Company.

  A public trial would drag the Trust and Alphacorp through the mud. Ben hoped to avoid it. All the charges had been brought by the Trust. He hoped he could persuade the board that dropping them would be in their own best interests.

  Malusi Duma, the grandfather he didn’t remember, had brokered a meeting with the joint Trust and Alphacorp boards, presided over by Vetta Babajack, the current European prime minister, and president elect of the Five Power Alliance. It would be Ben’s best chance to persuade them to close down the jump gate system. If he had to risk his own freedom to do that, then so be it.

  Following Ben’s advice, Jess instructed his crew to punch in and out of foldspace in a series of short jumps, finally reaching Earth and taking a shuttle down to Shield City, a domed habitation on the northwestern shore of Hudson Bay.

  Ben had visited the Monitor headquarters on Earth twice when he’d been a new recruit, but he wasn’t particularly familiar with it. He certainly wasn’t familiar with the cells which, though fitted with all modern conveniences, still smelled of desperation. Being here by choice helped, but not much.

  First, they took his buddysuit and gave him gray fatigues with no pockets and no metal fittings. They took images and scans and processed him, allocating a number to his name. Then they had a physician give him a checkup and a clean bill of health. After that, he spent two hours going over the statement he’d given previously, confirming that it was a true transcription, not given under duress. He signed and thumbprinted it.

  He was a model prisoner: no aggression, all cooperation.

  His cell was fitted with a damper, which, he supposed, was marginally better than being drugged on reisercaine to prevent him from contacting, or being contacted by, undesirables.

  That meant Cara, who was very desirable as far as Ben was concerned, couldn’t contact him. They’d known this would be the case beforehand and made plans accordingly.

  Meals arrived regularly, and the food was decent. He had a few unread books on his handpad, had he been in the mood to read them, and there was a wall screen with a limited choice of entertainment channels. He scanned for documentaries on the colonies or space travel, but it was mostly Earth related, which was logical. Having been brought up on Chenon, with its predominantly pink foliage, the innate green of Earth on the screen felt alien to him. He’d long since become habituated to a twenty-four hour day, though, because it was the norm out in space, so his body clock wasn’t as messed up as he’d thought it might be.

  It was still a long and largely sleepless first night, but in the morning, along with his breakfast, came a message that his lawyer and a representative from the Five Power Alliance had arranged to see him at ten. Good. It was starting at last.

  They came for him on the dot of ten, guards he didn’t know, who insisted he stand facing the back wall of his cell while they entered. While one kept a stunner handy, he turned for the other to put on shackles. He couldn’t blame them. His charge sheet was impressive and his dossier testament to his resourcefulness. He took deep breaths and reminded himself that it was by no means certain this was how it was going to be for the rest of his life. Even so, the atmosphere of desperation undermined the confidence he’d brought with him to this place.

  He followed one guard down a long corridor. The second one followed behind with a stunner. Ben didn’t need to be an Empath to know he was jumpy, so he was careful to move slowly and deliberately and not give him any reason to react. Being stunned wasn’t Ben’s favorite pastime.

  They took him up what appeared to be three levels in a steel box elevator and delivered him to a plain white interview room where the light was too bright and the walls too clean. A faint smell of disinfectant lingered. There was a metal table bolted to the floor and a single metal chair on one side of it. His guards had him sit and then they bolted his wrist shackles to the table. He didn’t object. There wasn’t much point.

  A few minutes later a different pair of guards brought in two more comfortable looking chairs which they placed opposite. He heard voices in the corridor and the door opened again.

  Two men entered, one elderly and brown with a wiry cap of salt-and-pepper curls, the other middle-aged and of Chinese descent with black hair tied in a ponytail. Both wore smart suits which made Ben’s gray fatigues feel even more like pajamas.

  Ben smothered a laugh and started to stand before realizing his shackles wouldn’t let him. He smiled instead. “Hello, Grandfather. You’re the representative from the Five Power Alliance. I should have guessed. Not the way I’d hoped we’d meet.”

  “Reska, good to see you. We have met before, but you were a baby and I don’t expect you to remember.”

  “Please, call me Ben. Only Nan calls me Reska.”

  “She can be a remarkably formal woman on occasions.” He smiled. “Ben, then. And you may call me Mkhulu when no one is listening. It’s Zulu for grandfather. How are they treating you?”

  “Well enough, since I’m classified as dangerous.” He rattled his shackles. “I have no complaints.”

  “Your grandmother sends her love and says to tell you that you are an idiot. I’m not entirely sure you are, but I think you like to live dangerously.”

  Ben shrugged. “Tell Nan I’m sorry. I needed a way to speak to the Trust and Alphacorp boards. This is it.”

  “You’ll get your chance. I’ve set a date, three days from now.”

  “Thank you.”

  “This is Charles Wong, your lawyer.”

  Ben dipped his head in acknowledgment while asking, “Do I need a lawyer?”

  “You most certainly do, Mr. Benjamin,” Wong said. “You admitted to killing Ari van Blaiden, for a start.”

  “Self-defense.” Ben would do it again in a heartbeat to protect Cara.

  �
�And attempting to kill Gabrius Crowder.”

  “Self-defense again, or at least, defending someone else, but I admit I made a botch of it. Otherwise, I suspect we might not be having this conversation since Crowder is behind all the charges. Don’t we have enough proof against him?”

  “What you have is hearsay and witnesses, all of whom back you without exception, even Miss Danniri who possibly counts as a hostile witness. But proving Gabrius Crowder is guilty of criminal acts is not the same as proving you, and the Free Company by association, are innocent.”

  “Isn’t discrediting him and proving that we had just cause enough?”

  “I rather think it all comes down to whether the Trust and Alphacorp continue to press charges when they’ve heard what you have to say. If they do, you could be looking at a very long time on a prison planet and, by that, I mean the rest of your life.”

  “And what would that mean for Cara and the Free Company?”

  “The charges against them would stand.”

  “What about the ones who’ve come here as witnesses?”

  “They came under amnesty.” His grandfather leaned forward. “You have my personal guarantee they will be allowed to leave.”

  Ben huffed out a relieved breath. “That’s what matters. Thank you.”

  His grandfather chuckled. “I’ve been talking to your witnesses. I think I have a better idea of the kind of man my grandson is, now. Your . . . err . . . Cara is a delightful young woman. If I were sixty years younger, I’d be fighting you for her attention.”

  “Nan might have something to say about that.”

  “Ah, yes, very probably. Your grandmother is a strong woman.”

  “I know.”

  “So now we have to plan for the board meeting. They requested we all meet in holographic space, but I’ve persuaded them a physical meeting is required. It will take place at the Trust Tower in KwaZulu Natal.”

  “On Trust territory.”

  “In a way, yes, but the Trust Tower was built over the bones of Umlazi Township. Your ancestors came from there. Remember, you have as much right to that space as the Trust has. You are descended from a long line of Duma warriors.”