by Mercury(lit)
"Most illustrious master: The last individual is now in our care. He will be treated as required. Unfortunately, he has probably contaminated the vessel in which we found him. Therefore that vessel will be dealt with. This will be my last transmission to you or anyone in this life. Sayonara."
When Bracknell came back to consciousness he was already in a hardshell suit, its helmet sealed to the neck ring. The captain was glaring at him, his eyes raging with fury.
"I told you to keep away from her!" he screamed at Bracknell, loud enough to penetrate the helmet's thick insulation. "I warned you!"
"Where is she? What have you done-"
"She's in her quarters, crying. She'll get over it. I'll have to marry her off sooner than I planned, but it'll be better than having her throw herself at scum like you."
Bracknell felt himself being hauled to his feet and realized there were at least two other crewmen behind him. His legs wouldn't function properly; the stun wand's charge was still scrambling his nervous system.
"Drag him down to the auxiliary airlock," the captain snarled. "That goddamn Hiryu is still connected to the main lock."
"But I didn't do anything!" Bracknell protested.
"The hell you didn't!"
Like a sack of limp laundry Bracknell was hauled along the passageway and into the airlock. The captain clipped a tether to the waist of his spacesuit and handed him the loose end.
"You can find a cleat for yourself and clip onto it. Otherwise you can float out to infinity, for all I care."
Bracknell tottered uncertainly in the hard-shell suit. His legs tingled as if they'd been asleep. He's going to kill me! he thought. I'm going to die out there! There's no way I can survive in a suit all the way out to the Belt. Even if he sends out more air and food how can I-
The inner airlock hatch slammed shut and Bracknell felt through the thick soles of his boots the pump starting to chug the air out of the darkened metal chamber. In less than a minute the pump stopped and the outer hatch swung open silently.
Bracknell saw the cold distant stars staring at him. On unsteady legs still twitching from the stun charge, he clumped to the lip of the hatch. Peering out along the ship's skin, he saw a set of cleats within arm's reach. For a moment he thought of refusing to go outside. I'll just stay here in the airlock, he told himself. Then he realized that the captain would simply have a few men suit up and throw him out, maybe without even the tether. So, like a man going through the motions of a nightmare, he attached the end of his tether to the nearest cleat and then stepped out into nothingness. The airlock hatch slid shut behind him.
He glided silently as the tether unreeled, then was pulled up short. A sardonic voice in his head mocked, You're at the end of your tether. A helluva way to die. He realized that despite his contemplation of suicide, despite Addie's tutoring him in the desirelessness of the Buddhist path, he very much wanted to live.
Why? Why not just open the seal of this helmet and end it all here and now? The answer rose in his mind like the fireball of a nuclear explosion: Vengeance. Victor and Danvers had betrayed him. And Yamagata was the biggest bastard of them all. Yamagata had brought down the skytower, and that had given Victor the opportunity to steal Lara from him.
Molina. Danvers. Yamagata. He would live to work his vengeance on them. But you won't live long enough to succeed, that mocking inner voice told him.
Looking around as he floated in the emptiness he saw, on the far side of Alhambra's curving hull, that the other ship was still linked. What was its name? Hiryu, the captain had said. Flying dragon. Why would it still be connected? If they intend to bring Toshikazu back to Selene they ought to light off as quickly as they can.
Then Bracknell remembered that Hiryu was a Yamagata vessel. And Yamagata certainly wasn't here to help Toshikazu recover from his wounds.
The silent explosion blinded him, but it did not surprise him.
DEATH AND TRANSFUGURATION
Whirling blindly through space, Bracknell knew for certain that he was a dead man now.
He could feel himself spinning giddily. The explosion must have torn my tether free of Alhambra, he thought. I'll twirl like this forever. I'll probably be the first man to reach Alpha Centauri, even though I'll be too dead to know it.
Then the realization hit him. Addie! The captain. All the people on Alhambra. Did the bastards kill everybody? Madly he tried to paw at his tear-filled eyes; his gloved hands bumped into the thick quartz visor of his helmet. Blinking furiously, he tried to force his vision to return. All he saw was the searing after-image of the explosion's fireball. They wouldn't have blown up the whole ship, he said to himself. Why would they? They wanted Toshikazu and they got him. Why the explosion? An accident?
No, he realized. They suspected that Toshikazu had been talking to us. They wanted no witnesses, nobody left alive. Dead men tell no tales. Neither do dead women, even if they're only seventeen years old. His eyes filled with tears again, but now he was sobbing for Addie, killed because of me. The final casualty of the skytower. They killed her and everybody else because of me.
Then he thought of Yamagata. I didn't kill them, Bracknell reminded himself. He did. Yamagata. He's back on Earth, living in luxury, with the blood of millions on his hands.
Slowly his vision returned. Eventually he could see the wreckage of Alhambra spreading outward like dandelion seeds puffed by the wind. It was dwindling, dwindling as he himself spiraled away through space.
Yamagata did this. Bracknell kept the image of Saito Yamagata in the forefront of his mind. It kept him alive, gave him a reason to keep on breathing. He had never met the mighty founder of Yamagata Corporation, but he had seen vids of the man on the news net. Yamagata was supposed to have retreated to some monastery in Tibet, Bracknell remembered, but the newscasters smugly reported that this was just a ruse. The old man was still running his interplanetary corporate maneuvers, they assured their watchers.
Saito Yamagata, Bracknell told himself as he tumbled endlessly through space. Saito Yamagata. When he finally lapsed into unconsciousness he was still burning with hatred of Saito Yamagata.
He opened his eyes and almost smiled. Bracknell found himself lying on an infirmary bed, safe and warm, with a crisp sheet over his naked body. It was all a dream, he thought. A nightmare.
But the dark-skinned, slightly plump nurse who stepped into his view was a stranger. And she wore a white uniform with the crescent logo of Selene on her left breast, just above a name tag that identified her as norris, g.
Bracknell blinked at her, then croaked, "Where am I?"
She smiled pleasantly at him, white teeth gleaming in her dark face. "A classic question."
"But where-"
"You're in the hospital at Selene. A salvage team picked you up when they went out to claim the wreck of Alhambra."
"Alhambra?"
The nurse fussed over the intravenous drip inserted in Bracknell's arm as she replied, "From what I hear, Alhambra collided with some Yamagata ship and they both blew up. You're lucky to be alive."
Raising his head anxiously, Bracknell asked, "Did anybody else... are there are any other..."
"No, you're the only one who survived. What were you doing outside in a spacesuit?" Without waiting for an answer the nurse went on, "Whatever, it saved your life. Were you outside doing some repairs, or what?"
He sank back onto the pillow. "I don't remember," he lied.
The nurse cast him a doubtful glance. "There wasn't any ID on you when they brought you in. What's your name?"
Bracknell started to reply, then caught himself. "I... I don't remember," he said.
"You don't remember your own name?"
Trying to look upset about it, Bracknell said, "I can't remember anything. It's all a blank."
"Posttraumatic shock," muttered the nurse. "We'll have to run some scans on you, then, and check them against the files."
She left Bracknell's bedside. He raised himself up on his elbows and looked around. He w
as in a cubicle created by portable plastic partitions. His clothes were nowhere in sight. And he knew he had to get out of this hospital before the computer scans identified him as Mance Bracknell, the criminal who'd been sentenced to lifelong exile.
In his office in New Kyoto, Nobuhiko Yamagata watched the image of the white-haired servant as he delivered his final message. It's finished, then, he said to himself. At last it's finished. I can breathe freely again.
Within an hour the news came that a corporation ship named Hiryu had been destroyed in an accident that also wiped out the freighter Alhambra. No survivors were reported.
Nobu's first instinct was to uncork a bottle of champagne, but he knew that would be incorrect. Besides, he found that he didn't feel like celebrating. Instead, a profound sense of gloom settled upon him like a massive weight.
It's finished, he repeated to himself. This terrible business is finished at last.
BOOK IV
VENGEANCE
Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand,
Blood and revenge are hammering in my head.
SELENE HOSPITAL
After a bland meal, Bracknell pushed his tray aside and got out of the hospital bed. The floor tiles felt comfortably warm to his bare feet. He seemed strong enough, no wobbles or shakes. The cubicle was barely large enough to hold his bed. Portable plastic partitions, he saw. No closet. Not even a lavatory. And this damned IV hooked into my arm.
He cracked the accordion door a centimeter and peeped out. The same nurse was striding down the corridor in his direction.
Bracknell hopped back into the bed and pulled the sheet over his naked body.
She pushed the door back and gave him an accusing look. "I saw you peeking out the door. Feeling better, huh?"
"Yes," said Bracknell.
"Long as you're taking solid food we can disconnect this drip," she said, gripping his arm and gently pulling the IV tube out of him. Even so, Bracknell winced.
As she sprayed a bandage over his punctured arm, Nurse Norris said happily, "You're going to have a pair of visitors, Mr. X."
"Visitors?" He felt immediately alarmed.
"Yep. Psychotechnician to talk to you about your amnesia, and some suit from the corporate world. Don't know what he wants."
"Can I get some clothes?" Bracknell asked. "It's kind of awkward like this."
Norris looked at one of the monitors on the wall behind the bed and fiddled with her handheld remote. "The coveralls you came in with were pretty raw. I sent 'em to the laundry. I'll see if I can find them for you. Otherwise it's hospital issue."
"Before the visitors arrive?"
She gave him that unhappy look again. "For a charity case you make a lot of demands."
Before he could answer, though, she ducked back outside and slid the partition closed.
Once I get my clothes back I can make a run for it, Bracknell said to himself. I can't let them scan me; I've got to get out of here before they find out who I am.
And go where? I'm in Selene, on the Moon. As soon as they find out who I am they'll slap me into another ship and send me back to the Belt. Where can I hide?
He thought about escaping back to Earth, to Lara. But he knew that was ridiculous. How can I get to Earth from here? Besides, she's Victor's wife now. Even if she wanted to hide me, she wouldn't be able to. Then he realized that he hadn't the faintest idea of where on Earth Lara might be. Shaking his head morosely, he decided that going back to Earth would be impossible.
Toshikazu said he had a brother, he remembered. What was his name? Takeo. Takeo Koga. And he's here, on the Moon. Somewhere in the Hell Crater complex. Maybe I can get to him. Maybe-
The partition slid open again and somebody, he couldn't see who, tossed a flapping pair of gray coveralls at him. In the soft lunar gravity they arched languidly through the air and landed softly on his bed. By then the door had slid shut again. A new set of underwear was tucked into one of his coverall sleeves.
He was sealing the Velcro seam up his torso when someone rapped politely on his door frame. They can see me, Bracknell realized, looking up toward the ceiling. They must have a camera in here somewhere.
He sat on the bed and swung his legs up onto the sheet. "Come in," he called. Then he realized that his feet were bare. They hadn't brought any shoes.
Two men entered his cubicle as Bracknell touched the control stud that raised the bed to a sitting position. One of the men wore a white hospital smock over what looked like a sports shirt and corduroy slacks. He was round-faced and a little pudgy, but his eyes seemed aware and alert. The other was in a gray business suit and white turtle-neck, hawk-nosed, his baggy-eyed expression morose.
"I'm Dr. DaSilva," said the medic. "I understand you're having a little trouble remembering things."
Bracknell nodded warily.
"My name is Pratt," said the suit. "I represent United Life and Accident Assurance, Limited." His accent sounded vaguely British.
"Insurance?" Bracknell asked.
DaSilva grinned. "Well, you remember insurance, at least."
Bracknell fell back on a pretense of confusion. "I don't understand..."
Pratt said, "We have an awkward situation here. Like many ship's crews, the crew of Alhambra was covered by a shared-beneficiary accident policy."
"Shared beneficiary?"
"It's rather like an old-fashioned tontine. In case of a fatal accident, the policy's principal is paid to the survivors among the crew-after the deceaseds' beneficiaries have been paid, of course."
"What does that mean?" Bracknell asked, feeling nervous at being under DaSilva's penetrating gaze.
"It means, sir," said Pratt, "that as the sole survivor of Alhambra's fatal accident, you are the secondary beneficiary of each member of the crew; you stand to gain in excess of ten million New International Dollars."
Bracknell gasped. "Ten million?"
"Yes," Pratt replied, quite matter-of-factly. "Of course, we must pay out to the families of the deceased; they are the primary beneficiaries. But there will still be some ten million or so remaining in the policy's fund."
"And it goes to me?"
Pratt cleared his throat before answering, "It goes to you, providing you can identify yourself. The company has a regulation against paying to anonymous persons or John Does. International laws are involved, you know."
"I... don't remember... very much," Bracknell temporized.
"Perhaps I can help," said DaSilva.
"I hope so," Bracknell said.
"Before we start scanning your brain to see if there's any physical trauma, let me try a simple test."
"What is it?"
DaSilva pulled a handheld from the breast pocket of his smock. Smiling cheerfully, he said, "This is what I call the ring-a-bell test. I'm going to read off the names of Alhambra's crew and you tell me if any of them ring a bell."
Bracknell nodded, thinking furiously. Ten million dollars! If I can get my hands on that money-
"Wallace Farad," DaSilva called out.
Bracknell blinked at him. "The captain's name was Farad."
"Good! Your memory isn't a total blank."
"You couldn't forget the captain," said Bracknell fervently. Then he remembered that the captain was dead. And Addie. And all the rest of them. Dead. Killed by Yamagata.
"I'll skip the women's names," DaSilva was saying. "I don't think you had a sex-change procedure before they picked you up."
Pratt chuckled politely. Bracknell thought of Addie and said nothing.
DaSilva read off several more names of the crew while Bracknell tried to figure out what he should do.
Finally DaSilva said, "... and Dante Alexios. That's the last of them."
Dante Alexios had been the vessel's second mate, Bracknell knew. He didn't know much about him except that he wasn't a convict and he didn't have a wife or children.
"Dante Alexios," he repeated. "Dante Alexios."
"Ring a bell?" DaSilva asked hopefully.
Bracknell looked up at the psychotechnician. "Dante Alexios! That's who I am!"
Pratt looked less than pleased. "All well and good. But I'm afraid you're going to have to prove your identity before I can allow the release of the policy's payout."
HELL CRATER
Catch-22, Bracknell thought as he sat on his bed. I can get ten million dollars if I can prove I'm Dante Alexios, so I need to let them scan my body. But as soon as they do they'll find out I'm Mance Bracknell and ship me back out to the Belt as a convict.
