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Nimbus

Page 53

by Jacey Bedford


  Ben smiled. “I hope one day we’ll have the opportunity to discuss my ancestors, but in the meantime, what do I need to know about the boards?”

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  AMBUSH

  CARA HAD BEEN ON EDGE SINCE ARRIVING IN Durban with Jake and the other witnesses. They’d all been cooped up in a hotel together with every luxury, but with limited freedom. There was an unobtrusive but effective guard, partly, they said, for their own protection. Ben’s grandfather, Malusi Duma, had visited with Nan, and they’d all, one by one, told him their individual stories, even Jake, who was understandably embarrassed by being duped into almost killing thirty thousand people by dumping their ark ship into foldspace while they were all in cryo. He’d redeemed himself several times over, but Jake still had to be convinced he was forgiven.

  So much had happened. So many deaths could be laid at Crowder’s feet. Pity he wasn’t the one who would be on trial.

  Yet all that counted for nothing when compared to the danger from foldspace. They probably weren’t the first to encounter the Nimbus, but they were the first to survive and spread the news.

  Cara spent hours with Nan and Malusi Duma, hoping for the best, but planning for the worst.

  “Don’t worry,” Nan told her. “The person who controls the options controls the situation.”

  “Do we have options?”

  “Malusi can’t interfere with the proceedings, but he’s been finding excuses all year to get under Crowder’s skin and some of it may have come good. Vetta Babajack is chairing the whole thing. He’s a friend of Malusi’s. Reska will get a hearing—a fair one.”

  After an eternity of waiting the day came for the board meeting.

  Cara knew Jessop had brought Ben to Durban the day before, but she wasn’t allowed to visit. Again, no surprise.

  All the witnesses assembled in a room off the hotel lobby.

  “Are you all right?” Ronan asked. She shouldn’t be surprised he’d picked up her agitation. His Empathy was partly what made him so good at his job. “I thought you and Ben were over.”

  She gave him a look which he interpreted correctly and then laughed.

  “Do you think you should tell Ben?”

  “Maybe. Someday. Just because I love him doesn’t mean I don’t hate what he did.”

  “I know you have issues with trust.”

  Did she?

  “I had issues with Ari van Blaiden and Alphacorp. I always thought I could trust Ben.”

  “You can always trust him to do what he thinks is right.”

  “But taking Gen’s baby into a dangerous situation . . . Why didn’t he tell me?”

  “He didn’t tell you because he knew you’d be conflicted. He didn’t give you any choice about which side to be on.”

  “And now he thinks the right thing to do is to risk his freedom for the sake of getting the truth out there.”

  Ronan merely cocked his head to one side. She’d answered her own question.

  “If he gets out of this alive, remind me to kill him,” Cara said. “The only thing worse than living with a man with no honor is living with one who has too much.”

  For an answer, Ronan simply pulled her into his arms and gave her a fierce hug. “If he ends up on a prison planet, you don’t think for one minute we’d leave him there, do you?”

  “That’s good to know. I wouldn’t want to have to break him out all by myself.”

  “Is everyone ready?” Nan arrived in the doorway with Malusi Duma. Cara noticed they’d been holding hands and didn’t let go fast enough. Had they finally decided to get together? They’d waited long enough.

  They all filed out of the hotel to the transport, following Malusi and Nan: Cara, Ronan, Wenna, Hilde, Gwala, Tengue, Jake, Jack Mario, Mother Ramona, and Pav Danniri. There were twenty seats on the bus, ten singles, facing forward down each side of an aisle. Their Monitor guards arrived, two officers and eight constables, each armored and carrying a heavy-duty weapon. Cara wasn’t sure why they should be carrying Newtons unless they were expecting trouble. It certainly wasn’t in Crowder’s best interests to allow the witnesses to testify. Maybe they were worried there might be an ambush between the hotel and the Trust Tower, twenty klicks south. Cara would have felt better if she’d been allowed to pack her derri. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but she felt better knowing it was in her thigh pocket.

  The driver climbed into the cab. The door shushed closed and the armored windows darkened. The vehicle rose on its antigravs and began to glide forward. At the end of the hotel’s driveway, she felt the bus turn left when she’d been expecting it to turn right. Probably something to do with the city’s road system. All the same, though she was no Navigator, she was sure the bus was heading north rather than south. Their guards were all buddysuited up to the eyeballs with face shields that hid their expressions. Cara reached out with her talent for Empathy and found nothing. The guards were all wearing dampers. Ten dampers on a small vehicle interfered with her own ability. It felt like she was swimming through soup to contact Ronan who was sitting right in front of her.

  *Ronan? Can you feel it?*

  *What?*

  *Nothing. That’s what I mean. Seen those Newtons? Why would guys on our side need their weapons prepped while on the inside of the bus?*

  *And you said you don’t have trust issues.*

  *It’s not my issue if someone’s trying to kill me. Help me to get through to the others.*

  Ronan lent his power.

  *Be aware.* Cara sent out a tight broadcast. *Look at those weapons. I think these guys aren’t our friends.* Malusi Duma, Jack Mario, and Pav Danniri were the only deadheads. Cara saw Nan lean across and say something to Malusi, her face fixed in a disarming smile.

  The bus’s engine coughed and died.

  “Technical trouble,” the driver said over the comm. “Nothing to worry about.”

  *Yeah, right,* Wenna said. *I trust your instincts, Cara. Plans?*

  *It’s close to even numbers.*

  *Unless you count the bloody big Newtons and their sidearms as well,* Jake said.

  The driver made a couple of halfhearted attempts to restart the drive. “Sorry, folks. I’ve sent for a replacement vehicle, but we’re out of the city now, so it will take half an hour to reach us. I’m not going to be able to keep the climate control operating, so it will be hotter than hell in here inside five minutes. You might want to wait outside where there’s a bit of a breeze coming in from the sea.”

  “You heard,” the Monitor officer said. “Everyone off.”

  The bus had settled low to the ground.

  *This is it,* Cara said. *The plan is to fight for your lives.*

  She saw a look pass among Tengue, Gwala, and Hilde.

  Cara shuffled next to Jack Mario and squeezed his hand.

  “These aren’t real Monitors, are they?” he asked in a low voice.

  “I very much doubt it,” she said, smiling through clenched teeth. “When the rumpus starts, get down and stay down.”

  She was horrified to see that Nan and Malusi were going to be the first off the bus behind eight guards. If those guards were going to be waiting with weapons drawn, that was the most vulnerable position. But as Nan stepped on to the roadway, she stumbled, going down and taking Malusi with her. They rolled to the side, leaving the way clear for Tengue, Gwala, and Hilde to leap out of the door, splitting up, darting, diving.

  Unable to see out of the darkened windows, the two guards at the back were slow to react when the rumpus kicked off at the front of the bus. Ronan went for one and Cara hopped onto her seat and launched herself at the other.

  Jack Mario had crouched between the seats. Good. That took him out of harm’s way. It was doubtful he had much unarmed combat experience. That thought was fleeting. Grappling with an armed guard took all her attention.

 
; She didn’t feel pain at the gun butt against her cheekbone. It was more like a kinetic shove. She shoved back, not letting him point the muzzle of the Newton in her direction. He kicked out at close quarters and tangled his foot in hers. They went down in the aisle. All she could concentrate on was holding the damn gun while trying to get her feet under her. Suddenly an arm snaked out from under the seat and locked itself around the guard’s head. Thank you, Jack. She grabbed the Newton, turned it around, and drove the stock into the vulnerable space between the bottom of the man’s face guard and the collar of his buddysuit.

  He gurgled and choked. She didn’t know how much damage she’d done, but she couldn’t leave him to recover behind her. She turned the Newton again and fired at point-blank range at the exact same spot she’d pounded. The report was deafening in the close confines of the bus. Blood sprayed in an arc. At that range, she’d probably taken his head off.

  She scrambled to her feet, gun in hand, at the same time as Ronan.

  It had taken seconds.

  Wenna had crouched down inside the doorway when it all kicked off outside, and then she’d flung herself at the driver in his cab.

  Ronan ran to the front of the bus. Cara paused to rip the sidearm out of the holster of the downed guard.

  “Get whatever weapons you can find, Jack,” she said, and ran after Ronan.

  The yellow African sun caused her to blink and screw up her eyes. They were on a quiet stretch of road, certainly not the main highway, with sparse grass growing on the sandy verge and the azure sea not a hundred meters away beyond rolling dunes. A good place to bury bodies.

  It took three seconds to extend the lobstered helm of her buddysuit and click the visor into place. Gwala had downed a man and was in the process of rising to his feet.

  “Manny!” she yelled, and tossed the Newton to him. It would do more good in his hands than hers.

  There were bodies. Pav Danniri lay still in the roadside dust. Nan and Malusi were two shapes in the shelter of the bus’ skirt, but Cara didn’t have time to check for injuries. There were still four guards standing, or rather crouching and taking aim.

  Gwala took two of them with the same burst of fire. Tengue tackled one from behind and the trail of shots arced upward. Ronan hit the fourth squarely across the back of both knees, cutting his legs from beneath him, whereupon Jake grabbed the man’s gun, yanked off his helmet, and held the muzzle to his head.

  It was over.

  Wenna emerged from the bus holding her right arm, now detached, in her left hand and using it as a club against the driver who looked dazed.

  “Bastard grabbed me by the wrong arm.”

  “The right arm, I’d say,” Jake said.

  Suddenly, Wenna began to giggle. She pushed the driver toward Tengue and Gwala who had rounded up the surviving guards.

  Ronan checked everyone for injury. “That’s going to hurt in the morning.” He touched Cara’s face where her cheekbone and the gun butt had collided.

  “It’s superficial. Check the others.”

  She knelt beside Nan. “Are you hurt?”

  “Only my pride. Malusi’s taken a straight-through slug in the leg. I’ve got a compress on it. No arterial bleeding, and I don’t think it’s caught the bone.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Not from where I am, young lady.” He scowled at her.

  “You know what I mean.”

  Pav Danniri was dead, a small hole between her eyes, a large one in the back of her head. Hilde had taken three shots to her shoulder and upper arm, but her buddysuit had turned two more potentially fatal ones to her chest, which had left her bruised and gasping for breath. Gwala, bleeding from a gash to his jaw, wouldn’t leave her side.

  “Where’s Jack?” Cara peered into the bus.

  Jack was still on the floor. “Did we win?”

  “We did. Thank you for your help. You can come out now.”

  “I’d love to, but I might need a bit of help. I felt something tear in my knee. Not sure if I can even get up. How do you hardy types manage to take a beating and bounce back as if nothing had happened? Gods, your face looks awful.”

  “Thank you, kind sir. A lady always appreciates a compliment.”

  “Does it hurt?”

  She touched her cheekbone. “I think it’s going to.”

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  BOARD

  THEY ALLOWED BEN HIS BUDDYSUIT FOR THE board meeting, though they checked it thoroughly for hidden weapons first, and he had to wear a damping pin. He felt more like himself as he waited in an anteroom five floors below the boardroom. He was accompanied by three guards, and they’d put on the damned shackles again. He smiled at them and settled down to wait. It wasn’t as if he was going anywhere. His whole purpose in surrendering was to get to this moment.

  A light knock on the door. One of his guards answered it, and Jess Jessop entered.

  “Jess, I didn’t expect you to be here.”

  “I’m a character witness.”

  “For me?”

  “And against Sergei Alexandrov. Though I’m not sure that’s quite what Alphacorp’s lawyer expects. I’ll tell it the way I saw it, and remind people how many you rescued from Chenon, including Crowder’s family.”

  “Thanks, Jess. Much appreciated.”

  “Your other witnesses haven’t arrived yet. Are they usually late?”

  “No. Aren’t your guys supposed to be transporting them? Should I worry?”

  “I doubt it, but I’ll see what I can find out.”

  Of course, that meant he did worry. Sitting high in the Trust Tower, he felt disconnected from the real world far below. He went to the window, fancy glass-steel that was as invisible as air, and peered out. The main arterial road ran north to south with intersections that spilled traffic onto local roads.

  A public road-train ran alongside the arterial, dipping under the access ramps and serving the busy station built especially for the Trust Tower. In the distance, the rolling parkland had swallowed up all signs of Umlazi Township. All that remained was the name and a life-size bronze sculpture in the lobby depicting a people fierce and proud. Malusi Duma’s people. Should he feel they were his people, too? That South Africa was long gone. Africa was prosperous, now, and the south doubly so with its platinum.

  A bus pulled off the arterial and swung in through the gates, past the checkpoint, without stopping, and right up to the front entrance. Even from this height he could recognize Cara, Ronan, Wenna, Tengue, Gwala. They were his people. There was some kind of fuss going on, security being called, a gurney being summoned. Who was that? He couldn’t tell who the figures were under their emergency medical blankets, but some of them were covered head-to-toe. What the hell had happened? Who was dead?

  Dammit! The damping pin prevented him from connecting with Cara even though he could see her three hundred meters below.

  “What’s happening down there?” he asked his guards, but they didn’t know and wouldn’t ask.

  Time slowed, but eventually Jess returned, his face creased in a frown. “Someone was trying to make sure your witnesses didn’t testify. Impostors with a duplicate bus while the real transport was snarled in a traffic jam.”

  “There were corpses down there.”

  “Mostly the would-be assassins. Your guys are good.”

  “Mostly?”

  “Pav Danniri.”

  Ben hardly knew the woman, and she’d spent part of last year trying to kill him, but she’d done the decent thing and exchanged her testimony for a free passage out to the Rim.

  “Casualties?”

  “Hildstrom, bullets to arm and shoulder, but she’s stable. Ex-president Duma, bullet to the leg, also stable, and Mr. Mario, torn knee ligaments. He’s cursing like a regular trooper, but otherwise unharmed. Cara took a gun butt to the face, so some bruisin
g. Don’t panic when you see her. It’s spectacular, but not dangerous. You should have seen the other fellow. He was one of the ones under a blanket.”

  Ben took a deep breath. “Glad you warned me.”

  “She says to tell you they’ll all still be testifying, and not to worry about your grandfather.” Jess frowned. “Your grandfather is here? I didn’t know you had family on Earth.”

  Ben smiled.

  “We can go up, now,” Jess said. “I’m afraid you still get your guard.”

  “Hey, everyone has a job to do. For all I know, they’ve saved me from assassins already, simply by being there.” He turned to the guards. “Gentlemen, I can assure you you’ll get no trouble from me. Shall we go?”

  Jess led the way to an empty elevator shaft. Ben was about to grab him by the shoulders when he realized there was a floor mat lying in midair. “Glass-steel,” Jess said. “Can’t see the point myself unless you’re being architecturally pretentious.”

  “Glad they decided to put a telltale mat on the floor.”

  “I asked the receptionist.” Jess chuckled. “She said no one would use it until they did. Sometimes they take it out to tease newcomers to the place, or to impress important visitors that they don’t like very much.”

  As the elevator rose to the top of the tower, Ben began to see the point. The unobstructed view was magnificent from up here.

  The board meeting started two hours late, everyone agreeing to wait while the witnesses received medical attention. It wasn’t a judicial trial, so the witnesses were allowed into the meeting and given a bank of seats with room for two float chairs on the front row. Jack Mario was in one, and Malusi Duma in the other, sitting next to Nan. She’d shuffled her chair close enough for their arms to touch. On his grandfather’s other side was Charles Wong. Ben didn’t know whether to be grateful his lawyer was there or worried because his grandfather believed it might be necessary for him to have legal support even in this preliminary meeting.

 

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