She must get out. Out of the chair. Out of the room.
Out.
Her world turns blood red, and she sinks into it.
“Feeling better now, dear?”
“Yes, thanks, Mrs. McLellan. Not sure what came over me.”
“Deep cover can have that effect. You’ll be all right once you’ve put some distance between you and this mission. It will all start to seem like a bad dream.”
“It already does.”
“Before you let go of it completely, Mr.van Blaiden needs your help with Lorient.”
“Yes, he told me.”
“A small matter of a contract that needs signing. The man’s being stubborn, and I can’t do anything with deadheads.”
Cara started to form the words: Lorient isn’t a deadhead, but Mrs. McLellan had turned away already.
Something inside her was screaming: Shut up!
• • •
In the body of the LV a dozen off-duty guards lounged or stood around, some cleaning equipment, others eating from ration tins. Cara felt them watching her as she was escorted past the ops room where she could see Wenna Phipps sitting in front of the matrix screen, arms folded, eyes anywhere but the input panel. Craike loomed over her. She briefly wondered how long Phipps would last if Ari told Craike to get creative and then shuddered. Phipps might be “the enemy” in this instance, but she didn’t deserve to be on the wrong side of Craike; no one did.
Ari’s voice came back to her, Leave me? I’m not so sure about that, but you could discuss it with Robert Craike. He handles severances. The way he’d emphasized the word severances made Cara think uncomfortably of limb from limb and head from body.
The idea of leaving Ari seemed alien to her now. She reached across with one hand and touched the little hard lump in her sleeve pocket.
“Ah, Cara, at last.” Ari stopped pacing outside the door to what had been Marta Mansoro’s office and spun to face her. “Lorient’s in there, but he won’t sign over the colony without reassurance that his settlers will be evacuated safely. Talk to him. Explain it’s in his own best interests. Tell him that thanks to you we know where all his settlers are.”
“What can I offer him in terms of reassurances?”
“Absolutely anything.”
“What if he wants a percentage rake-off of the mining profits?”
“Yes. That, too. Whatever he wants. Just make him believe it. He knows you.”
“Yes, but he doesn’t trust me, and if I offer him everything he asks for, he’s quite right not to trust me. You won’t give him a cut of the profits.”
Ari gave her a long look.
Ah, she understood now. Ari wouldn’t give him anything. Once his signature was on record, he was a dead man, but a signature made under duress was useless, so they needed not only his signature and DNA print, but also the timed and encoded medical record to go with it to prove his physical state at the time of signing.
“I understand.” She really did, but she didn’t like it.
“Good.” Ari squeezed her arm. From anyone else it would have been a reassuring gesture, but Ari squeezed just a little bit too hard. She felt something solid dig into her flesh—the stone in her sleeve pocket.
Squaring up her shoulders, she nodded to the guard, and the door to Lorient’s room clicked open for her. She took a deep breath and stepped across the threshold, face set in a tight mask of what she hoped was warm friendliness.
• • •
Ari van Blaiden watched the door close behind Cara. He needed her for this one thing and then . . . A brief smile skipped across his face without quite reaching his eyes. Revenge was certainly a dish best served cold. She didn’t know what was in store, but she’d soon find out.
Silently, Donida McLellan appeared at his side. How did she do that? He covered up his shock, but he thought she’d detected it. Mrs. McLellan was altogether too useful . . . but he’d really like to teach her a lesson in respect. He wondered if there had ever been a Mr. McLellan and shuddered involuntarily.
“Will she hold for a bit longer, Mrs. McLellan?”
“I’ve repaired the damage as well as I can under these circumstances, but I’d need weeks, not hours, to do a thorough job.”
“I trust you. You’ve always delivered before.”
“But in this case I can’t work miracles. I haven’t got a full picture of everything that’s happened to her. I don’t know how she managed to break the conditioning in the first place. That’s one conflicted mind. It’s holding for now, but keep a careful watch on her.”
Ari still had the buzz in his groin from fucking her. She’d felt just like his old Cara. Mrs. McLellan was probably being overly cautious, but he didn’t pay her to speculate and she was just doing her job.
Raised voices in the operations room drew Ari. As he arrived at the door, Wenna Phipps crashed at his feet, blood smeared across her lip and a welt across the side of her face. Ari stepped over her and looked quizzically at Robert.
“Having fun?”
“Bitch is leading me in circles. The bloody platinum records are hidden in this system somewhere, but they’re well disguised.”
“Perhaps you haven’t offered her the right incentive,” Ari said. “Mrs. McLellan, could you spare a moment please?”
Donida McLellan appeared in the doorway, took one look at Robert’s face and Phipps, who was now sitting up and rubbing her jaw, and laughed. “Your way not working, Craike? You could always try cutting off her toes one by one, or maybe rape would soften her up. I’m sure you’ve got some strapping young men in your unit who would oblige if you couldn’t get it up yourself.”
“That’s enough, Mrs. McLellan,” Ari snapped. Yes, she really did need a lesson. If he ever found a Psi-1 who could outgun her, perhaps she’d get it. Robert would like that, and he liked to keep Robert happy. There was always a certain amount of rivalry between Robert and McLellan, but only at work. Ari would no more bed Donida McLellan than he would a praying mantis. Craike had been sharing his bed for the past year and what a revelation the man had been.
He smiled politely at McLellan and gestured toward Phipps. “Mr. Craike was only making a start while you were busy with Cara. Since you’re free now, perhaps you could illustrate to Ms. Phipps exactly why she should cooperate with us.”
“It would be my pleasure.”
Yes, he could believe that. It really would be her pleasure. Not for the first time Ari was profoundly grateful for his youthful decision not to have an implant fitted. He’d never found it a disadvantage. Of course, he did always have a psi-tech on hand for communications. But he was safe from monsters like McLellan.
Once more he wondered about Mr. McLellan. He imaged him to be a complete deadhead, a manual worker, maybe a gardener. What would their dinner conversation be? What did you do today at work, dear? I deadheaded some roses, and you? I deadheaded some psi-techs.
Wenna Phipps began to convulse and moan on the floor. Oh, she’d started already.
The moans intensified to a shriek.
“Enough, Mrs. McLellan. I think Ms. Phipps can understand now that it’s in her best interests to cooperate.”
McLellan looked almost disappointed, but she backed off and the Phipps woman stilled. Ari nodded to Robert. “Give her a drink of water and a shot of analgesic and ask her about the platinum again, Robert.”
“Mr. van Blaiden.” Kitty Keely stood outside the door, obviously not sure whether she should come in, her way still blocked by the prone Phipps. He looked up.
“Message from Captain Tengue, sir. What would you like him to do with Benjamin?”
“Confine him for now. Make sure he’s secure. Don’t underestimate him.” At last something was going right. Since he arrived on this bloody planet, nothing else had gone according to plan. He needed to wrap this up quickly and get airborne. Under other circumstances he’d find a more elegant solution to his problems, but quick and dirty would do if it was all he had time for. He’d get even with Crowd
er later for dropping him into a fubar. Hell’s teeth, Crowder might even have planned this, though, for the life of him, he couldn’t see why. Why would Crowder get him here in person and then warn the settlement in advance? Was this supposed to be a trap of some kind? It wasn’t as if they had enough firepower to stop him or even injure him for that matter.
He saw the ensign hovering and realized she thought he was scowling at her. “Carry on, Ensign Keely.”
She saluted smartly. Save him from rookies! He tried to remember why he’d thought it a good idea to bring her along. Sweet little thing, but she’d been a dull fuck, especially with Robert. Cried a lot.
“Get on with it.”
“Yes, sir.”
He watched her march smartly away, her back very straight. So what was Crowder up to? He’d almost certainly used Cara to lure him here in person, but why? Maybe Benjamin had answers. Whether he could get them without Mrs. McLellan’s help remained to be seen. From what he knew about Benjamin’s reputation, he wasn’t the type to crack easily.
Chapter Thirty-six
MCLELLAN
Victor Lorient felt stupid. Benjamin had warned him all those months ago what would happen if news of the platinum got out. He’d been too panicked about losing Danny to consider selling up the planet and moving on, and he’d lost Danny anyway. Lost Danny and lost Rena. He’d been well aware that she’d not said good-bye before taking the offered transport to safety. She could hardly bear his presence.
He’d screwed up royally, not once but three times. The first time in deciding to stay on Olyanda, the second time with Taris, and the third time in thinking he could still cut a deal with van Blaiden. As soon as he’d come face-to-face with the man, he knew he wasn’t dealing with someone he could influence in any way at all. Victor’s charisma had finally deserted him.
He’d been kept in a bare cell of a room and and was now expecting another interview with van Blaiden. A shock ran through him when the door opened and Cara Benjamin stepped through. What in the name of all the seven hells was she doing here? He played several scenarios through in his head, including one where the Benjamins had been planning to sell the platinum to van Blaiden all along, but none of them made sense.
He noticed a graze along her cheekbone, her slightly glassy expression, and the stiffness in her walk. She didn’t want to be here any more than he did.
She sat down across the table.
“I’m authorized to negotiate, Director.”
She smiled reassuringly, but it felt false. Victor wasn’t reassured at all.
“On behalf of whom?” he asked.
“Ari van Blaiden speaks for Alphacorp. He has all their resources behind him. He can offer you anything you want.”
His flesh began to creep. He could feel her on the edge of his mind. Seven, thirteen, nine hundred and ninety-nine.
“Why you?” He managed to speak even though his mind felt it was tying him in knots. “Are you working for him?”
Seven hells, he was going to have to let her in. She was trying to tell him something.
*Victor, can you hear me? If you can, don’t let on, but tap your index finger on the table.*
He swallowed convulsively. Then . . . Tap.
“I’ve always been working for him,” she said.
*He’s got to think that’s true. Don’t give me away. They’re recording this.*
Lorient took a deep breath, his chest swelling. “I want all you . . . psi-techs . . . to get off Olyanda and leave my people alone.”
“You know that’s not going to happen, so what can we do to sweeten the deal for you? What would you like in return for your signature on a legal contract?”
Was she . . . ? Ah, no, here came the real information, delivered in less time than it took him to blink. *Whatever you do, don’t sign, but don’t refuse. Stall for as long as you can. If you sign it, your value is at an end. He’ll kill you.*
Victor could believe that. He’d seen it in van Blaiden’s eyes. The man had no common humanity.
He thought frantically. “Where’s the second ark?” he asked.
“It’s safe.”
He really wished he could believe that, but she said it so quickly and so glibly that it couldn’t be true.
He nodded as if he believed it. “I want a guarantee that all the Ecolibrians on Olyanda will be given safe passage to a suitable planet and reunited with the second ark.”
“You’ve got it.”
Victor kept his mouth moving and his brain racing. Was she going to agree to everything he asked for, no matter how ambitious? The more she agreed to, the less likely it was to be genuine. He came up with another demand. “And I want shares in the platinum mining. Me, personally. Just ten percent. I’m not greedy.”
She nodded.
He could ask for the sun and the moon, and she’d agree to it.
Ah, got it, something van Blaiden couldn’t give him. That should hold him up. Victor tried not to grin in triumph as he delivered his last request. “And before I sign anything, I want to see my wife.”
“Your wife?”
“You’re holding her. I followed her here. I need to know she’s safe.”
*Oh, you genius!*
Cara’s delighted approval flooded into his mind. Rena was already safely away from Olyanda, but Ari van Blaiden couldn’t know that. How long would he waste looking for her?
• • •
Cara bit back a triumphant little smile as she left Lorient seated at the table, but outside the door Ari stood stony-faced with Donida McLellan and four guards.
“Nice work,” Ari said.
“Thanks.” She kept her voice light. Admit to nothing until you know you’re rumbled.
“Did you really think we’d buy that?”
She shrugged.
“We didn’t know Director Lorient had an implant,” Donida McLellan said. “He hides it well. It should be easy now.”
Not as easy as she thought. What remained of Lorient’s implant was a shriveled and twisted thing. McLellan would have a difficult time getting to Lorient through it, and if she did, she might find more than she bargained for. He’d been a broadcasting Empath; he might be still.
“And as for you . . .” Ari leaned in close. “It’s about time we brought our real business out into the open.”
Cara felt a cold shiver run the length of her spine and settle into her bones. This was it, then. She squared her shoulders.
“I promised Robert he could be in on the kill. Nothing too quick, of course.”
Two of the guards closed in. She was hopelessly outnumbered and on enemy territory. All her training told her when to fight and when not to fight, and this was a time to stand still. Wait for a better opportunity. Except, of course, this could be the kill. It might be the last opportunity she got.
“Ari, what do you mean?” Play for time. Divert his attention. “What real business?”
She lashed out sideways, took one guard on the kneecap, spun and took the other in the throat with her elbow, but the other two were quick and efficient. One used a tangler cord from a distance while his partner stepped in and slapped a blast pack on the side of her neck. As unconsciousness began to close in, she held onto the thought that Craike had not been there. This wasn’t the end.
• • •
Ben sat in the body of an empty ore carrier. He didn’t know what had happened to Ronan, but Archie Tatum, Bronsen, and Gupta had been savvy enough not to get caught. Van Blaiden’s goons had used Wenna as bait, damn them. So much easier than trying to run him to ground in the forest. Though couldn’t van Blaiden have guessed Cara would be bait enough?
*Where are you?* Ronan asked on a very tight band.
*I’m in an ore carrier. Where are you?* Ben replied.
*Hiding. Close by.*
*Cara?*
*I’ve not seen any signs of her yet. Bronsen says he can sense that she’s in the middle of the compound, but that doesn’t seem likely.*
*Damn, that mak
es it a lot more complicated.*
Ben felt Ronan scanning what he could see of the camp. *We’ve got you pinpointed,* Ronan said. *Or at least I can see an ore carrier with two guards outside it.*
* You’re at least a Psi-3. Can’t you get through to Cara?*
*You think I haven’t tried? She’s shielding, or maybe unconscious.*
Please don’t let her be dead. *Maybe they drugged her.*
Ben felt Ronan settle down to see if he could break through to Cara. What if she was back where she belonged and didn’t want to talk to them? He couldn’t let himself believe that. He willed Ronan to make contact, suddenly regretting his lack of telepathic whammy.
*Cara.* Ronan pushed and Ben followed.
*Cara!*
*Ronan? Ben?* She sounded groggy, almost drunk.
*Are you all right?*
*Recovering, I think. Trying to avoid a little heart-to-heart with Ari. He’ll not want to see me until he knows I’m awake enough to appreciate whatever he has in store.*
*Where are you?* Ben asked.
*Dark. Somewhere—something small. Maybe a groundcar, though, no, I don’t . . . Oh, fuck.*
*What’s the matter?*
*Feels like I’m in a coffin.*
*Right. I can see where you are,* Ronan said. *There’s a man guarding a single ore crate. Bronsen was right. You’re in the middle of the compound.*
*Hold on until dark. I’m coming to get you.*
*Where’s Ben?* Cara asked.
*Embarrassingly tied up in an ore carrier. I walked right into a trap.*
*Are you all right?*
Ben flexed his shoulders, assessing damage. *I’m not injured. Just cramped.*
*Get Ben first, Ronan,* Cara said.
*You’re an easier target,* Ronan said. *It’ll take both of us to break Ben out.*
*Guards?*
*One on you, two on Ben. I’ve got smart-darts.*
*Be careful,* Cara warned. *They’re hot. As tough and well-trained as they come.*
• • •
Empire of Dust Page 52
