He caught Cara’s glance, glad Jess had warned him about the bruise on her face. “All right?” he mouthed.
She answered with a slight raise of one shoulder and a twitch of her lips.
Ben recognized some of the Trust board. He knew of Tori Le Bon, of course, though he’d never met her. He had met Isaac Whittle, the vice-chair, who had been in charge of the Hera-3 inquiry. He knew Yolanda Chang, head of Research and Development, by reputation. She was a scientist and might be one of the people he could appeal to.
Crowder wore a blank expression and had a damper pinned to his collar. Had the bastard ordered this morning’s attack? Probably, but Ben figured he wasn’t the only one on the Trust board who would like to see them all vanish in a puff of smoke. Alphacorp, too. They’d certainly like to keep Ari van Blaiden’s crimes covered up.
Akiko Yamada headed the Alphacorp board. Ari van Blaiden had been on the board, of course, until his unfortunate demise, which they’d covered up by saying he’d been lost in the Folds.
Vetta Babajack, European Prime Minister and president elect of the Five Power Alliance, had agreed to chair the meeting.
“Gentlefem and gentlemen of the boards,” Babajack began. “Rarely do corporations and governments have the opportunity to clean house in private, but under the terms of this agreement that is what we have today. Mr. Benjamin has offered testimony and has brought witnesses to things past and things to come. He has proposals which I will ask you to consider and vote on at the end of this session. You’ve all read the transcript of his statement and may ask questions as you see fit. As you all know, this session is being monitored by four independent Empaths to ensure the truth at all times from all parties.”
And so it began. It was up to Ben to frame his story in the way the board members would find acceptable, and even to elicit sympathy. Sure, Crowder had overstepped the mark when he’d orchestrated the attack to destroy the colony on Hera-3, so the Trust could waltz in and take control of the platinum, but Ben would be an idiot if he thought the Trust’s board completely innocent.
Crowder had made two mistakes. The first of these was starting this whole thing in the first place. The second was leaving Ben alive to finish it.
Ben answered questions from several members of the board without looking at Crowder. He figured the Empaths in the room would be having a party with the emotions washing from that direction.
They called Cara next.
A great red-and-purple welt splashed across her cheekbone and the bruising had spread down to her jaw. He knew by the way she held herself that she was in pain, but she spoke clearly and succinctly about Ari van Blaiden’s attempt to crush her mentally as well as physically, using the unique talents of Donida McLellan in charge of the neural reconditioning unit on Sentier-4.
Ronan backed up her story, Wenna backed up Ben’s.
Then Ben turned his story around. “At this point, please don’t forget we were all loyal employees of the Trust—and would still have been if we hadn’t had to choose between living and dying.”
Jack Mario gave an insight from the colonists’ point of view. Jack might be taken for nondescript at first glance, especially when sitting in a float chair like an invalid, but he was blessed with liberal quantities of common sense and a powerful intellect. He was also a very good speaker, striking a balance between fact and emotion.
Ben eyed the two sets of board members. He didn’t want to stretch this out beyond their tolerance to listen. “I put it to you, gentlefem and gentlemen, that Gabrius Crowder is out of control. That all our actions subsequent to finding the platinum on Olyanda were reactions forced on us by Crowder and van Blaiden working in partnership.” He paused for effect and took in each member of his audience with a sweeping gaze. “And now you’re all wondering what will happen when this story gets out as it surely will. No, this is not an attempt to blackmail you. It’s a plea to your intelligence and better nature. History spins on the point of today because everything we’ve told you means next to nothing alongside the new discoveries in foldspace.”
He felt the shift in the atmosphere in the room.
“Commissioner Rodriguez has already given you the facts about the Nimbus. You haven’t failed to notice that you are losing so many ships and colonies that your profit margins are shrinking. Your accountants are probably already weighing the cost of defending Chenon from a vast, if unskilled army. You have now defeated them, but not without throwing massive resources at the problem, and you’re probably wondering where they’ll strike next.
“There is only one solution: close the jump gate system.” He waited for the muttering to die down. “When the Trust and Alphacorp take this problem seriously, the smaller corporations will follow.” That’s it, butter them up. “We’ve already decommissioned all the jump gates close to the Independent Planets that have signed up to ally with Crossways. Since then—not one further attack. The attack on Chenon was initially successful because Chenon’s three jump gates allowed their battleships and troop carriers through three times as quickly.”
He turned to the four hitherto silent Empaths. “Come on, guys, help me out here. Am I lying about this?”
“No, you believe everything you say,” one of them said.
“I’ve seen the Nimbus,” Ronan spoke up. “Tiny as it was when I saw it—or I wouldn’t be here to speak to you now—it was utterly terrifying because it was the very definition of nothing. It was as if it sucked up your right to life.”
“My husband saw the Nimbus a year ago,” Mother Ramona spoke. “There is not one night when it doesn’t visit his dreams. He wakes screaming.”
“I could take you into foldspace,” Ben said, “and prove it to you, but you didn’t attain your current positions by reckless adventuring.”
“Aren’t you currently under arrest?” Crowder said.
“Thank you for the reminder, Mr. Crowder.” Charles Wong stepped forward. “Charles Wong, gentlefem and gentlemen.” He half bowed. “Legal counsel for Mr. Benjamin and the Free Company. I propose that the joint boards put forward a motion to drop all charges against Reska Benjamin, Cara Carlinni, and members of the Free Company, since it must be clear that these charges would be thrown out of a judicial court and fresh charges made against Mr. Crowder.” He looked around and paused as if enjoying the moment. “And possibly jointly with your good selves who supported his endeavors, including Mr. Crowder’s most recent raid on Crossways to steal the blueprints for the retrofit jump drive. Though Miss Pav Danniri was killed in this morning’s attempt on the lives and liberty of the witnesses, we do have her sworn and witnessed video statement clearly stating she was hired by Gabrius Crowder for the express purpose of stealing the blueprints.”
He didn’t mention that one of her team had a device to blow a big hole in Crossways and eradicate the whole team. Dead men—and women—tell no tales. He didn’t need to push the point home; it was all in the transcripts.
Ben didn’t even look at his old boss. He wanted to convey that Crowder was beneath concern and contempt. He did, however, see glances from members of both boards in Crowder’s direction.
Mother Ramona spoke up. “I have full authorization to make you all an offer. Closing the jump gates will irreparably damage the trade of the megacorporations; we know this. However, losing ships and colonies at this rate will damage them even more. If Alphacorp and the Trust will commit to closing their jump gates with immediate effect, we will release the blueprints and technical details for the new retrofit jump drives completely free of charge.” She looked at Miss Yamada when she said it and nodded. “Furthermore, we will not make the plans available to the other megacorps for a period of ninety days, which should give you a head start on the technology. This, however, is dependent upon the free flow of information between the respective R and D divisions of all the megacorps, the FPA, and ourselves in order to finally solve the platinum problem. We all know Earth’s history.
Even before the meteorite, the planet was nearly lost in the twenty-first century due to catastrophic climate change caused by man-made pollution. We cannot continue to pollute foldspace if we intend to be among the stars for centuries to come. Think about it. It’s the best offer you’re going to get.”
Ben couldn’t add to that, so he sat down and shot a sideways glance at Cara.
Chapter Fifty-Five
GLASS
CROWDER WAS SURE HE HAD SUPPORT FROM at least half the board, so he forced himself to sit through Benjamin’s testimony with a blank and—he hoped—innocent expression on his face.
Tori LeBon said she’d back him, for a consideration, of course. She was as good as her word as long as he delivered. Isaac Whittle was on his side; he owed Crowder a favor having been tipped off to buy Hera-3 shares at rock-bottom prices before the platinum news broke. Yolanda Chang would do whatever Tori told her, and Adam Hyde always went with the majority. The problems would be Beth Vanders, Sophie Wiseman, and Andile Zikhali.
Vanders and Hyde might not be lovers now, but they had always retained a deep affection for each other. That might influence her. Wiseman was a wild card, easily swayed by rhetoric and ruled by her heart. Zikhali was ruled by his head, cool and logical and always looking at the bottom line.
Crowder figured that when the dust cleared, he should still have his seat on the board. They might not like what he did, but they’d accept it. He’d always been faithful to the Trust. It wasn’t as if his motivation had been personal profit, like van Blaiden. The Alphacorp board was lucky the problem of van Blaiden had been taken care of. He knew he hadn’t handled this well. He should never have let things drag on after Hera-3. He’d been soft. He’d still thought of Ben as a friend. Dammit, he’d tried to protect Ben and all his psi-techs by recalling them as soon as he realized Ari van Blaiden had jumped the gun and attacked early.
If only Benjamin had obeyed orders, but leaving a colony under attack had not been his style.
He supposed he should be grateful for Benjamin’s sense of honor, misplaced as it sometimes was. The man had rescued his daughter and granddaughter from Chenon—and Aggie, too, of course, though he was ambivalent about her survival. He didn’t actively wish his ex-wife harm, but she’d made it clear she stood between him and their daughters.
But he did wish Benjamin harm. Last time they’d come face-to-face, Benjamin had almost killed him. Moreover, he was a danger to the Trust. Crowder was confident he had Benjamin this time. He’d made plans, plans that were about to come to fruition right . . . about . . . now. . . . He tried not to smile. It was a bold move, but would ultimately benefit the Trust. And as they always did after all his other actions, they would take advantage.
Vetta Babajack asked the witnesses to leave the meeting room as the white-skinned woman with the strange blue hair, Mother Ramona, laid out her offer in more detail. The board members listened attentively. He wished he’d foreseen this development. He’d never have sent Pav Danniri into Crossways. He could simply have waited, and the plans would have fallen into the Trust’s lap anyway. Or maybe he could argue that Crossways was only offering now because they realized they couldn’t hold on to the plans forever. Someone would snatch them, whether it was the Trust, Alphacorp, or some third-party opportunist.
Throughout the negotiations, Mother Ramona never asked for a pardon for Benjamin and the Free Company. That was encouraging. Crossways was playing its own game.
When the two boards split up to consider their options, Crowder rose to follow, but Tori LeBon nodded to the others to go ahead and turned to him.
“Perhaps you should wait outside, Gabrius. For the sake of propriety, you know.”
Nonononono . . . This was not how it was supposed to go.
“But I can answer any questions you might have.”
“I think we have all we need.” She dropped her voice so only Crowder could hear. “You know I have your back.”
He nodded. He hoped so.
Vetta Babajack moved over to talk quietly with Ben’s grandmother and Malusi Duma. How had the wily old man managed to get in on this decision? It was as if he’d been dogging Crowder’s footsteps for the whole year. First the endless meetings over the Trust’s local tax liabilities and now this.
Louisa Benjamin looked up. “Do you have somewhere else to be, Mr. Crowder? We have some private business to discuss.”
He didn’t, but he could take a hint, especially when it was delivered with a sledgehammer. He rose from his chair, resisting the urge to rub the painfully numb patch on his thigh. Dipping his head, he headed for the hallway, letting the door close behind him.
He could see some movement in the elevator lobby. Something was happening. He looked again.
Oh, of course. Perfect timing.
Vetta Babajack motioned for them all to wait outside. It was the first time Ben had had the opportunity to see Cara in over a week. His minders tried to edge him out into the elevator lobby, but Jess pulled rank and told them to wait and give Ben a moment.
Ben thanked everyone. Coming to Cara last, he pulled her into his arms. The bruise on her face looked painful.
“Is Ronan taking care of that?”
She nodded. “Nothing’s broken.”
“Am I forgiven?”
She sighed. “For Gen and Max, and little Liv? Forgiven? I don’t know, but I understand what you did, even though I wish you hadn’t done it.”
“Are we still . . . us?”
She closed her eyes, her lashes beaded with moisture, and touched his cheek. “Presuming you don’t end up on a prison planet.”
“If I do—”
“You know I’ll come and get you.” Her eyes crinkled into a smile.
He hadn’t known until that moment, but he felt as though a huge weight slid from his shoulders. It hadn’t mattered that he’d put his own liberty in jeopardy if Cara wasn’t in his future. Running the Free Company without her would be simply going through the motions. When had she become the fulcrum on which his life balanced? If he was honest with himself, he’d fallen hard right at the beginning, though he knew it hadn’t been the same for her. He’d had to win her trust—and his recent actions had almost lost it again.
“I love you,” he said.
“I never doubted it, you maddening man. I love you, too.”
A pointed throat-clearing drew Ben’s attention to one of his guards waiting in the doorway. It was a new one. There must have been a shift-change.
“I think my moment is up. I’d better wait with the guards.”
“How long do you think they’ll take to make up their minds?” She jerked her head toward where the two boards were meeting.
“I don’t know. Nan and Grandfather can be quite persuasive, and Mother Ramona is still in there. It’s a good offer, considering things can’t stay the way they are.”
“But it might not save you. Pardoning you and the Free Company wasn’t part of Mother Ramona’s offer.”
The officer coughed again.
Ben glanced up and nodded. “I hope they’re sorting that out as well.”
He followed the guard out to the elevator lobby where there was a magnificent view of his ancestral homelands through the glass-steel walls. He took it all in, glad he didn’t suffer from vertigo. The elevator controls, showing the doors were open, appeared to float in front of him. He could understand why people had refused to ride in there until they put a telltale mat on the floor.
He glanced down.
No telltale.
The doors were open, but the elevator wasn’t there.
He looked up and saw the floor of the elevator from the underside. This was the top floor, but there must be a maintenance level at the top of the shaft. At the same time as he took all this in, the three guards moved toward him, backing him toward the elevator shaft.
Crowder again.
“Come on, guys, don’t you think this is a bit obvious?”
He still had the damping pin. He couldn’t call for help even though he could see Ronan, Wenna and Cara turning toward Mother Ramona as she made a stately entrance. The sound baffles made for excellent privacy, but a marching band could strike up in the lobby without disturbing the meeting rooms.
His guards weren’t talking. That was a bad sign. Professionals. He wondered what had happened to his real guards. Three against one. He could possibly manage two, but not with his wrists shackled. He doubted he could take all three, but it wouldn’t stop him from trying. At least he could make enough of a commotion to attract attention. Where the hell was Jess? Ben refused to believe he had anything to do with this. These were not Monitors.
He’d barely run the options through his brain when one of the guards jumped forward. Ben dived for the space he created, but it brought him closer to the gaping maw of the elevator and a fast drop to oblivion. He pivoted, swept his feet around, and caught the back of one guard’s knees and sent him flying. The second guard put a boot into his ribs while Ben was down, but he sprang up, trying to breathe away the pain, and shouldered him backward. The elevator shaft beckoned, but the guard caught himself on the wall by the control and bounced back toward Ben. The third guard grabbed him from behind. He pushed backward and elbowed him in the gut, but it didn’t dislodge him. The other two closed in.
Ben twisted, overbalanced, and took the third guard with him, lashing out at the second with both feet. He couldn’t escape a stunner, but if they wanted this to look like an accident or possibly suicide, they couldn’t use anything but brute strength. Everyone would know, of course, but it still gave them plausible deniability.
There was a fourth pair of feet. He hoped it was Jess, but he knew from the shape and the cut of the boots that it wasn’t.
Crowder.
He wasn’t yelling for help or telling the guards to stop. That pretty much clinched matters. These were Crowder’s goons. He couldn’t bear to leave it unfinished between them.
Nimbus Page 54
