“Steady.” Ronan hauled her upright when she didn’t even realize she’d gone down. How long could they keep this bunch occupied? How long before someone slipped behind them? All around her were jostling bodies and the sounds of fists on flesh and scuffling feet mixed with curses and exclamations.
Ronan’s steadying hand vanished. She ducked a wild punch and slammed her elbow into her closest attacker’s gut, hearing a satisfying grunt of pain, but someone grabbed her from behind, and in stepping into him she tripped on someone already down and staggered. A second pair of hands grabbed her by the waist, and the man behind her got an arm around her throat and yanked her even further off balance. Totally lost, she closed her eyes and let herself go completely limp, hoping to fool them into thinking she was unconscious and letting her drop out of their hands. Not a move to try when someone was trying to kill you, but these guys weren’t trained killers.
Never underestimate an angry, frightened man. As she flopped onto the ground, someone’s boot toe connected with her ribs once, twice. Pain shot through her side. She felt a rib crack and the knowledge was almost as damaging as the pain because now she knew it wasn’t going to stop and that one more wrong move could puncture a lung. She waited for the third kick, but it never came. The scuffle moved past her.
Groaning, she rolled over and came to her knees, muttering obscenities with what breath she had left and wondering whether she had any fight left in her.
“Mrs. Benjamin.” A solid hand slid under her arm and hauled her up to her knees. Pain shot through her chest, and she almost retched. “Did you mean it?” Lorient stared down into her face. He looked like a man waking from a bad dream. “Is it true?”
Swallowing hard, she put the memory of Ben’s confrontation with Crowder to the front of her mind and opened her thoughts to Lorient. *I can’t lie to you. Not like this.*
“Enough! Stop!” He was on his knees in front of her, his arm not so steady anymore. “You’re hurt. I’m . . . I’m sorry. What a damn mess!”
“Ribs.” She found that drawing breath to speak hurt like hell. “No matter. Stop them opening the pod.”
She felt blackness closing in on her, and she must have passed out for just a couple of seconds because the next thing she knew was that Lorient had gone and she was still on her knees. Cursing like a trooper at each jolt, she staggered to her feet as the ground shook.
A roar went up and the fighting petered out with cries of alarm replacing shouts of anger. The pod shook and rolled and began to sink further into the soft ground until the hatch was completely obscured.
*Sorry we’re late for the party. How’s that?* Archie Tatum sounded self-satisfied.
*Gives us some thinking time and some talking time. Thanks, Archie.*
Archie’s bots had undermined the pod and sunk it firmly into the ground so that the settlers would need shovels to dig their way to the hatch. Thinking time, indeed. In the meantime, Cara could see that Lorient had pushed his way to the front of the crowd and Gupta’s security team had efficiently secured the area. The fighting petered out as quickly as it had begun, but there were casualties on both sides. She could see Ronan still on his feet. Definitely handy in a scrap, that doctor. Jon Moon was with him, though clutching a bloody nose. She couldn’t see Sami or Rufus.
*Everybody all right?* she asked.
*I think I’m going to be sick,* Rufus replied.
*Sami?* But there was a gaping hole where Sami had been.
*She’s over there.* Ronan started toward a figure on the ground.
Cara took painfully slow, short steps to where Ronan and Jon bent over Sami. At first Cara thought she was unconscious, but Ronan put his hand on her face and closed her eyes. “Neck snapped,” he said. “She’s gone.”
“Gone? Oh.” Cara felt her knees buckle and she sank to the ground besides the lifeless psi-tech, clutching her side, but hardly noticing the pain anymore. She didn’t move when Ronan sat down beside her and put his hand on her ribs, though she was vaguely aware that the pain subsided.
“I sent her, Ronan. It’s my fault,” she whispered.
“She held them off for long enough for us to get here. Together, we held them off long enough for them to get here.” He indicated the security team. Cara could see Gupta and Lorient talking intently, but no one was making any move toward the pod. “If you hadn’t sent her, the pod might have been open by the time we got here. She saved the day. Saved the settlement. You made the right decision.”
But all Cara could think about was that she’d gotten one of Ben’s team killed.
Chapter Thirty-three
DEAL
Ben and Max made it back to Crossways in record time with only two shuttle transfers, and within an hour of docking were settled into Mother Ramona’s den, sitting on her couch in the station’s early morning, each clasping a hot drink. Ben sipped his without really tasting it.
Mother Ramona pushed some books aside and sat on the desk opposite them both. “I did some digging. You were right about the plague originating on Crossways. Where else, really? The cargo pod was routed by a man called Hammer through Janek—he runs one of the shadier laboratories here, and we’ve got some shady ones, believe me. Apparently there was a delay, which Janek didn’t communicate to your Mr. Crowder. Something to do with a dockside sweetener for handling biohazard cargo.”
“There’s a chance, then, but why haven’t we heard? They should have found it by now. Can you lend me a tame Psi-1 to send a message to Cara?” He scrubbed his eyes with the heels of both hands. “That plague was meant to take us all out, psi-techs and settlers alike. Crowder shafted us all.”
“Bloody, filthy plague.” Max’s drink slopped over his hands and he hurled the cup away, splashing its contents across the floor. “I’m sorry . . . I didn’t mean to . . .”
“No matter. It’s only a rug.”
“It’s the waiting . . .” Max said.
Mother Ramona handed him a cloth and then left them alone to wait.
And wait.
Finally Cas Ritson came through. Her touch was more abrasive than Cara’s, and Ben could sense she was backed up by Saedi Sugrue adding extra power.
*It’s all right.*
Relief washed over Ben, and he grabbed Max by the shoulder and nodded to him, turning his back as the man dissolved into tears.
*Where’s Cara?*
*Infirmary. She’s got a busted rib. There was a dustup, but they held the settlers off long enough for Gupta’s team to secure the pod.*
*How bad?*
*Ronan’s doing intensive therapy. She’ll be fine by the time you get home.*
*Ask her to contact me as soon as she can.*
*Ben . . . Sami didn’t make it.*
*Sami . . . *
*There were five of them between the pod and the settlers, and things turned ugly. They held off twenty-five of Lorient’s boys until we arrived. Saved our butts for sure.*
Sweet little Sami. Twenty-eight years old and as good a Finder as you could want. She had family on . . . Ben thought back . . . one of the colony outposts in the Kindred System. Parents and a brother if he remembered rightly. They’d probably have already been informed that Sami had perished in the plague. Should he contact them and let them know how she’d really died? Maybe not. Not yet anyway. If there was the opportunity later, he would. He owed it to her.
But Sami had succeeded. Cara had succeeded. The pod had not been opened. Crowder had lost. Ben realized his own cheeks were wet, too, and he wiped them with the heel of his hand.
“We should celebrate.” Max looked up. “I want to get roaring, stinking drunk.”
“Celebrate later. We’ve won the first round. We still have a planet lousy with platinum and a colony of obstinate blockheads to deal with.”
Max looked at him. “It’s not over?”
“What do you think?” He turned to Mother Ramona. “Did you fix up an appointment with your friend Norton Garrick?”
“With my fiancée, Norton
Garrick.” She grinned. “I did.”
“A shrewd alliance.” Ben inclined his head in a semi-salute. “I’d like you to come with me. I have a proposal for you both—one I think you’ll find . . . challenging.”
“I like a challenge.”
“I know.” He grinned.
• • •
The following morning Ben found Mother Ramona in her den, curled up on her couch with a book. He suspected she lived in there, even though the rest of the house was cool and spacious.
He waited until she looked up. “Hey there, business partner.”
“Hey, Ben.”
“Sorry to disturb you, but I want to add something to our shopping list.”
“Something impossible, no doubt.”
“A jumpship.”
She dropped the slim book on the couch, and its screen went dead. “Now, you’re in the realms of fantasy. There’s nothing available on Crossways, either to hire or buy, equipped with its own jump drive.”
“I just have a feeling that I need to win all the time I can get. What about the ones that aren’t available?”
She thought and then began to laugh.
“Are you fussy who we steal it from?”
He shook his head. “I can’t afford to ask questions.”
“If we can get the ship I’m thinking of, you might appreciate the irony. It belongs to a mutual friend.”
“Crowder?”
“Ari van Blaiden. He’s been known to use Crossways as a port of convenience. He uses a false ID, of course, but that doesn’t fool me.”
“He’s not here now?”
She shook her head. “But his ship is.”
“Where’s Max?”
“In the garden, mooning over his woman. She must be quite something.”
“Gen? Yes, she is.”
“I thought so. When a man’s invited to seal a bargain on your couch and doesn’t shut up, for one minute, about the woman at home, it’s a sure sign of an incurable romantic.”
“He did that? I’m sorry. It wasn’t very polite.”
“No, don’t worry. In its own way, it was charming, and in his own way, so was he. I’ll enjoy working with him, but don’t worry, I’ll give him a break from the couch.” She laughed, deep and throaty. “Besides, he’ll be busy.”
“I hope I . . .”
“You were, as ever, a perfect gentleman. Cara is a lucky woman. I’m glad it worked out for you.”
“Let’s hope we get a happy ever after.”
“I’d wish you luck, but you make your own luck, Benjamin.”
“How can I fail with you and Garrick on my side?”
“Let’s not count the ways.”
• • •
Ben didn’t ask how Mother Ramona arranged for a team of crack thieves and obtained the docking codes for Ari van Blaiden’s ship. All they needed to do was to get past the security guards. A small task if you said it quickly enough.
The Raider was a state-of-the-art jumpship with its Alphacorp registration insignia filed off and renamed the Solar Wind. Ben had a satisfying feeling that his gain was Ari van Blaiden’s loss. Luckily, its owner was off-station.
No doubt his platinum had paid for both the ship and Mother Ramona’s loyalty, but he’d started to think of her as a friend, though he couldn’t tell at what point their relationship had crossed that invisible line. Maybe it was on her couch, but there was more to it than that. If she trusted Garrick, then he’d trust her judgment.
Max looked over his shoulder as he studied the ship’s specs. “Nice piece of kit. I always wanted my own spaceship, and I guess this is about as close as I’ll ever get. You sure I can’t come with you?”
“You can be more use here, and you’d be a liability on Olyanda. Lorient’s moods are up and down like . . .”
“Mother Ramona’s skirts?”
Ben grinned. “Hush, she’ll hear.”
“You do know how to fly this thing, don’t you, because there’s an awful lot depending on . . . ?”
Ben looked at him and raised one eyebrow. “Relax, Max. I’ll bring Gen back.”
Max cleared his throat. “Good luck, then. I’d say keep in touch, but . . .” He touched his temple. “Maybe I’ll have a receiving implant fitted while you’re away. It’s not like I can’t afford it now.”
“Swallowing your Ecolibrian principles already?”
“Oh, you know, other people have principles, I have . . . ideas.”
“Well, don’t get big ideas while I’m gone. Look after our finances and stay out of trouble.”
“I’m good at that. Finances, I mean.” He nodded, half held out his hand to shake, then changed his mind and left quickly, passing Mother Ramona in the doorway.
Ben watched him leave. He wasn’t bad at trouble, either.
“Will you please stop him from getting himself killed on Crossways without me?” he asked.
Mother Ramona laughed. “He’ll be all right. I’ll give him a bodyguard.”
“I think he’d be better off with a nursemaid.”
“I’ll give him Derry, then. He’s been round the block a few times. Knows how to keep a low profile.”
“Thanks.”
“Are you sure you’ve got everything, Benjamin?” Mother Ramona’s eyes were all concern.
He nodded. “You know what to do?”
“I do.”
“You’ve got all the dirt on Crowder and all the Hera-3 evidence as well?”
“Safe.”
“Good. If anything happens, feel free to use it to your own advantage. Break him, and split the Trust and Alphacorp wide open. Don’t give them the opportunity to shaft anyone else.”
“Trust me.”
“You’re a strange woman, Ramona, but, actually, I do.”
“Mother Ramona, to you.”
“I always wondered why Mother Ramona.”
“What else would you call a woman of the cloth?”
“You?”
“I took holy orders on Eldibane when I was eighteen—you know what that means on a pleasure planet. I arrived on Crossways when I was twenty-five. There are more places to serve my god than in a nunnery, you know.”
Ben laughed. “And how many people do you tell that to when you’re cementing your deals on the couch?”
“You’re not the first, but you’re the only one I haven’t killed—so far.” She grinned. “Believe that if you want to.”
“I think I will; it makes me more comfortable.”
“You take care.”
“I’m not planning to die out there.”
“Good. I always thought that life had some higher purpose in mind for you.”
“Now you’re getting philosophical.”
She laughed. “Just saying.”
“I guess this is good-bye, then,” Ben said. “For now.”
“For now.”
She gave him a brisk, brief hug and turned to leave.
• • •
Bravery came in many forms. It was easy in the midst of action when adrenaline was running high, but in cold blood it took more determination. Ben wasn’t a thief, but a man could change if he needed to, and Ari van Blaiden could afford the loss. It was time to make a move.
Ben sat in an auto-cab with three men, dressed, like him, in buddysuits and identified only by their code names of Bravo, Echo, and Papa. They waited on the transit line just outside the residents’ moorings. Delta, Oscar, and Sierra were in the car behind them. Through the thick plasglass wall Ben could see that the private dock was as different from the cargo port as you could get. Wide open spaces and normal atmosphere. The ships all gleamed in the gentle lighting.
“Nearly time to go,” Echo said.
Ben wondered whether Echo might be a woman.
*You all right?*
Ben nodded and pulled on his own face mask and infrared lenses.
“Time. Go!”
Bravo pushed the door open, and the lights in the transit tube winked out. They jumped out
of the vehicle and hit the ground running. The door clicked shut behind, and the little tub zoomed off.
Bravo led the way through doors, normally heavily alarmed and guarded, but now open and quiet. They crossed the wide walkway crouching low and strung out so as not to make an easy target.
“Hold.” A challenge came from somewhere to their right, and Papa dropped to one knee and fired a smart-dart at a figure moving in the darkness. There was the sound of a body hitting the floor.
Anesthetic. Ben might have become a thief, but he wasn’t a killer—at least not without good reason. But if anyone fired at them, the ammunition would be live. They were lucky; they crossed halfway to the Vantix dock before someone caught on. There was no preliminary warning call, just a steady stream of fire, slightly high and wide, thrown off by the tracer scrambler the team of professional thieves carried as part of their equipment.
There was the pfft of another smart-dart being released and a yell as someone in the Vantix compound fell.
A second volley of firing found its range. The ground at Ben’s feet erupted into splinters as a blast of energy hit it. He leaped sideways and kept running. There was no cover to be had. He hoped the power backup had been as well-sabotaged as the lighting circuits. The Vantix guards had night-sight goggles, but the darkness still gave them some advantage.
The firing stopped.
“Now.” Ben sprinted for the ship they’d targeted. The three other code-named thieves from the Alphabet Gang had taken out the rest of the guards.
“Quick.” It sounded like Papa’s voice.
The ramp was already down.
Ben ran up it and, in the low-level lighting of the flight deck, found the pilot’s chair and eased into it. Behind him, he heard a scuffle and a muttered oath.
“Shit.” Papa’s voice came out of the darkness.
“Leave him.” That was Echo.
Empire of Dust Page 48
