They moved through the doors. Halfway to the first cross–corridor they were hailed. “Is that her?” Ennis just nodded and walked forward. “Lemme find Heyt, and then we can get off this frozen—”
The man gasped and doubled up as Ennis drove the knife home.
“So. We’re looking for someone named Heyt.” His face was cold and remote as he watched the man collapse.
“Why don’t you use your gun?” Alan asked as they continued.
“Too noisy. Don’t talk now.” Even his voice was flat and clipped.
They went all the way to the entrance to Lorai’s hangars without finding anyone else.
“I’d better go first,” Moire said. “She might shoot you if she knows what’s going on and just sees the uniform.”
Ennis nodded. She carefully opened one door and peered in. Everything looked normal, but she could smell something. Recent gunfire.
“Lorai!” she whispered. “Are you there?”
No answer. She slipped inside and stumbled on a body in dark overalls. “I’m guessing she knows, all right. She seems to be doing something about it, too.” Moire commented.
“There’s another one over here,” Ennis added. “No commlinks.”
Great. They’d have to go back the other direction.
They retraced their steps, back in captured prisoner mode. Moire sniffed the air. Not gunfire this time, but something burning. It seemed rather strong to just be from the explosion in the restaurant.
A body in the main corridor, but it wasn’t one of the Toren troops. A local. They came to her old home corridor, but the smoke was so strong there they couldn’t go any farther.
She frowned, trying to remember the station layout. “That’s not good,” Moire said softly. “I think Ulrike hit the power station when she crashed.”
“So?”
“It’s near the main oxygen condenser.”
Ennis drew in a sharp breath, understanding. “We’d better get this finished quickly, then, before it decides to blow up.”
Where were the rest of them? A sudden burst of shots came from the far end of the main corridor, beyond the restaurant. A pause, and then another burst. Ennis picked up his pace, and Moire and Alan followed. She checked that she could still grab her gun when needed.
She could hear voices now. Angry voices.
“We know she’s here, so stop lying! Didn’t do them any good, did it?”
They were in an empty bay that Moire vaguely recalled having been an equipment–rental store. The dark–coveralled Toren people were facing a group of frightened locals. Two crumpled bodies were lying on the floor beneath a blood–splattered wall.
“Wait for my signal!” Ennis hissed.
“Him next,” one of the Toren people said. He pointed to Gip Farouz.
“I have nothing to tell you,” Farouz said with dignity. He raised his chin.
“Heyt!” Ennis yelled. The man who had pointed turned his head sharply.
“Good work,” Heyt said in a clipped, light voice. “Let’s go.” He waved the other Toren people out into the corridor. They went, but reluctantly. It didn't take much effort for Moire to act fearful as they moved toward her.
“What about them?” one asked, jerking a thumb back at the bay. “Shouldn’t we take care of 'em now?”
Heyt glanced at Moire, then away, as if he didn’t see what the big deal was. “We’ll take care of them from the ship. They aren’t going anywhere.”
What was Ennis planning? Now they were surrounded by Toren troops, and it was only the smoke and dim light that kept them from discovery.
“Where the hell is that asswad Anders?” grumbled Heyt. “I’m not waiting for him or that randy guard of his.” He pulled out a commlink.
Ah. The secret plan revealed.
“Gevorsian. Land at the front,” Heyt ordered. “We have the target.”
He put the commlink away just as they were passing the entrance to Mammachandra’s. Ennis suddenly shoved Moire through the double doors, Alan stumbling with her, and opened fire on the surprised Toren troops in a furious blaze. Moire landed hard, scrambling to her feet to stop Alan from joining in.
She was too late, but the fight was over. Ennis had gotten them all, including the commander. He was staring down at Heyt when she came out. Ennis had taken off his hood, and he was gripping his rifle so tightly his knuckles were white.
“Let’s check inside,” Moire said, counting the bodies. “If they had their full complement of fifteen, we’re missing some.”
Ennis seemed to come back to the present with an effort. “He mentioned two that were missing,” he said finally. He bent down and took the commlink from Heyt’s body. “The pilot should signal when they land.”
Moire cautiously opened the inner door, staying out of view. “Anybody in there?”
She heard running footsteps, and then Lorai poked her head out. “Damn but I’m glad to see you! We heard all that shooting and didn’t know what to think.”
“Everybody OK?”
Lorai grinned. “A few holes here and there. We’ll survive. Except, of course, for the one the little guy got. I don’t know how he did it. He could barely hold the gun. Guess they don’t teach these mining officials everything.”
Moire glanced around quickly. Everything was as Lorai said; a few holes that seemed to be patched already. A slight, terrified–looking man in rumpled clothes was clutching a mug of something like it was a safety line. His entire body was shaking.
“Hey, how’d you know something had gone wrong?”
“Mammachandra told me,” Lorai said. “After you left, she took the chance and ran for it. We gathered up people on the way back.”
Ennis had wandered over to the body lying in the middle area between the restaurant and the store. It was wearing a dark coverall.
“Shuttles OK?”
Lorai nodded. “No damage. You need 'em?”
“Need you to be ready. We have one last piece of unfinished business, and I want your help.”
A beeping noise came from the commlink Ennis held, and he tilted his head toward the door. “One more time,” he said, and tried to smile.
“W–wait! Are you l–leaving?” the little man said, panic in his eyes. “W–what if there are more of th–them?”
“You’ll be safer without me,” Moire said, her hand on the door. “Come on, Alan.”
“I w–want to go with you,” the little man said. He put his mug down and hurried to the entryway. He failed to notice the huddled lump of Munchausen on the floor, emerging from the crates, and stepped hard.
Munchausen erupted with a supersonic scream. The little man spun away with incredible speed, one hand reaching inside his jacket. Suddenly Ennis launched himself at the little man, grappling with him. A blast of energy made them both cry out, and the little man jumped back, looking very different and not at all afraid. Ennis had his weapon out.
“He’s Toren!” he yelled. “Get away!”
Alan was suddenly in front of her. She saw the little man look at her with strange, empty brown eyes, then flick to Alan’s face, and his expression changed to one of surprise. Ennis fired, and the man jerked, then ran for the door. Moire and Ennis ran after him.
“He went down that corridor!” she yelled, pointing. Ennis sprinted ahead in the direction she'd indicated.
An immense explosion shook the ground, and smoke poured from the corridor.
“That would be the oxygen condenser,” Moire said, picking herself off the ground yet again. She was going to have a fine assortment of bruises, assuming she survived this. “Let’s get that ship. He’s gone.”
Ennis pulled on his hood, and Alan did the same. Moire decided to leave hers off. It would only be for a few seconds, if it worked.
The attack ship was just outside the main entrance, sleek and beautiful. They ran out and the hatch door opened for them. The light was better in the ship and the pilot quickly realized something was wrong—but not quickl
y enough.
“OK, now it’s time for my plan,” Moire said, yanking the pilot’s body out of the chair with a grunt. The trick was getting close enough to the Toren ship in orbit to fire without getting shot down herself. “You guys go back and find Lorai. We’re going to do pretty much the same trick we pulled with those goons, only I’m going to be chasing her, got it? She has to make it look like she’s trying to get away. Tell her to head close enough to the Toren ship I can make it look convincing, but not so close they can get a shot at her.” She sat down in the chair and pulled down the scanner screen to find the Toren ship. “There. Got the coordinates?” Ennis nodded. “Good. Now get Alan back inside.”
He looked at her for a long moment. “Is there any other way?”
She knew what he meant. She could tell how hard it was for him not to argue, to make her stay. “We have to get that ship before they realize something went wrong down here. I’m the only one who can do this. I’ll be as careful as I can. And if I’m not…” she looked away. “Gren’s in charge.”
His face was so pale. Ennis nodded. Alan hadn’t understood anything except he was supposed to leave, and didn’t want to.
“I’ll be back soon,” Moire promised. Either under power or as re–entry fragments. “Now go help Lorai.”
For a moment she thought Ennis was going to argue, seeing tightening muscles of his jaw, but then he kissed her, hard, and dragged Alan with him out of the ship. Alan was staring at Ennis with wide eyes, too shocked to resist.
She powered up the ship as soon as they were clear, drifting it around so the nose pointed at the shuttle hangar. It was just what she needed. She’d have to be careful not to overgun it.
Even though she’d reminded herself, she hit the throttle hard when the shuttle burst out of the hangar. Lorai was doing an excellent job of imitating a frantic, desperate escape, and she did her best to look like a not–very–good interceptor.
There it was. Glimmering on the scope. Almost close enough. A signal pinlight lit up.
“Gevorsian, stop playing with them! Heyt will skin you if he finds out.”
Yes. Close enough. She broke away from chasing the shuttle, and now she did gun it. Full throttle, and she armed the main guns from the pilot console. For a moment she wondered if she could capture the Toren ship, but it was a reflex salvage thought and quickly discarded. She could not afford to make any mistakes.
“Gevorsian! Wake up, you idiot! Gevorsian!”
She had range. She fired. A hit, but not a good one.
“Gevorsian!” They were screaming now. “Wrong target!”
This is for Ulrike. “I’m not Gevorsian,” Moire snarled. She fired again. There was a flash on her screen, and the voice went silent.
¤ ¤ ¤
“I’m sure glad this is the last trip,” Lorai commented, slowing the shuttle down and turning it to dock with Raven. “It’s been fun and all, but it’s time for a nap.”
Ennis dragged his attention away from the view of the approaching ship. Almost there.
“Is everybody loaded?”
Lorai snorted. “Everybody who still wanted to come. Coupla faint hearts are thinking maybe Inner Systems aren’t such a bad idea. Fine for them if they like living in a tiny metal box.”
Moire was waiting for them when the hatch opened. She looked twitchy with fatigue and adrenaline, ready to react to anything, but he couldn’t tell what she was thinking. Her face was closed.
“What did the police say?” she asked Lorai. They’d finally been able to get help once the shuttle got to Dunkirk, and the local enforcers were already at Waylands.
“Action committee, 'course. Nobody’s saying anything to make them think different. Police may figure out they wanna talk to you, but I wouldn’t count on it. Everything’s a mess since they had to evacuate Waylands.”
“Good.” Moire scrubbed at her face with her hands. “Got somebody watching the scanners, dirtside as well as orbit. Nothing’s showing that shouldn’t be there. I hope that was the only one.” She smiled wanly at Lorai. “Thanks for your help.”
Lorai gave her a hearty hug, and a thump on the shoulder. “Any time.” She grinned. “Better get some guns on my shuttles, if this is going to be a habit.”
Moire didn’t smile back. “I’ll get you guns.”
Ennis felt cold. He knew she was planning for an eventual attack on Sequoyah, but this made it too real. If it was like this fight, such a near–run thing…he closed his eyes briefly, trying to calm his mind.
Lorai gave her another thump, evidently to cheer her up, and left for the hatch. “See you there!” she waved.
“I won’t…I’ve got another stop first,” Moire called. Lorai turned back, looking puzzled. “It could take a while. Kilberton will have plenty of work for you, since Toren got the dropship. And Ulrike.” Her face twisted. “He’ll know if anybody else can run the other shuttle.”
Lorai nodded. “Right. When are you leaving?”
“Soon as Dunkirk does. Kilberton said they had to rearrange some cargo to get your shuttles in, so a few hours.”
Lorai waved again and shut the hatch. Moire glanced at the status indicators, then looked at him. There was a raw scrape on her forehead and a dark bruise on her jaw. All the things that could have gone wrong ran through his mind, one after the other, all ending with the one thing he feared most. He’d pushed the thought away before, unable to accept how very possible it was.
I could have lost her.
Terror closed his throat, froze his breath. He touched the bruise on her face with trembling fingers. Suddenly he was overwhelmed with the conviction that she was badly wounded, that she was concealing it, and he held her tightly, running his hands over her frantically, trying to find the injury. Convincing himself she was real, still alive.
He became aware Moire was doing much the same thing to him. Their mouths found each other hungrily, and slowly the terror died, replaced by a growing passion.
“Too close, too close,” he whispered, seeing again the little man moving toward her in the restaurant. “He almost got you….” He shuddered and held her even more tightly.
“How did you know?” Moire asked, wondering. Her hazel eyes were full of light, and shades of color. They were deep, mesmerizing.
“I saw the gun. In his coat, when the creature startled him. The gun I used to have.” He stroked her side where the ceramic needle had hit her, and she stiffened, shock in her face as she remembered. “It’s a very distinctive weapon.”
“That must be the best–traveled sidearm in the galaxy,” she said with a shaky laugh.
“I should have tossed it down a disposal chute when I found it,” Ennis said savagely.
Moire shook her head. “Without that, would you have even suspected him? I didn’t. He looked so harmless, so frightened….”
He kissed her again, for comfort and to drive the image from his mind. He lost himself in her response, the increasing urgency overwhelming him. Now she was pulling him to follow her away from the hatch. Nothing could have stopped him, and he didn’t want to stop. Still, at the door of her cabin he found himself saying, “We may regret this later.”
Her lips moved, close enough to his ear he could feel it. “Maybe. But wouldn’t you rather regret something you did than something you didn’t do?”
His answer did not involve any words. He had no regrets, he realized, certainly not then. In that time, that place, with her, regret could not exist. Nor was anything like regret present when he drowsily drifted awake sometime later, spent but contented. There was something more, though, than simple physical satisfaction and love.
He could see Moire's face dimly in the red glow of the ship status indicators displayed on the wall of her bunk. He studied every feature, happy, and knowing his happiness was going to come to an end.
What had changed? She knew he loved her. He’d helped her fight her enemies, who were his enemies too. But he hadn’t thought about that then. They
had tried to hurt her and that was all that mattered. He hadn’t thought of Fleet. He’d forgotten everything but the need to protect her, by any means.
He shifted to hold her closer. If he remembered everything, every detail, he would have that when she was gone. The scent of her skin, the feel of her hair, how her body had moved with his.
Maybe he would come back. Wouldn’t Fleet want to send him to find her again, to get the crab, more valuable even than the ship? And if Fleet kicked him out, he could come back on his own. Free.
The sudden realization made him gasp, and Moire stirred and murmured in her sleep. He could come back, and she would welcome him. Her crew would welcome him. He had somewhere to go. The thing he’d been searching for all his life, without realizing it. He’d have to fight to keep it, but it was worth fighting for.
He leaned closer, careful not to wake her, and whispered, “I’m home.” Her arm tightened around him reflexively for a moment, and he let himself drift back to sleep.
¤ ¤ ¤
This time the ship pickup worked. Moire still had to fight Frankenstein free of the anomaly, or whatever it was in the center of the sargasso. The crab ship stayed in tow. Eventually she couldn’t even feel the pull, but she still stayed on emergency watch on the bridge. The ship tow was too dicey to take chances with.
Ennis was with her constantly. He watched the indicators when she snatched a few hours of sleep, or just kept her awake by talking to her. Sometimes she wasn’t sure she wanted him there, when all it did was remind her of passion she could no longer indulge in. The trip to the sargasso had not been nearly long enough for either of them, and now…now she had to keep her mind on her work.
“You already sent the message to Harrington about the dropoff location?” Ennis asked. He was sitting on the steps to the pilot’s pit.
“Yep. It’s the fifth on the list, so I told Kilberton to put the message ‘Remember, remember the Fifth of November.’”
“‘Gunpowder, treason, and plot.’” Ennis laughed. “How appropriate. He’ll be surprised you know that. I used to think it was something Penderhest made up.”
Moire hesitated. She’d have to tell him sometime, but it wasn’t easy. “You may have a wait there. Kilberton has to unload all that gear at Sequoyah before he can deliver that message, and then it’s however long it takes to get to Harrington and his invisible friends in Umbra.”
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