Behind him Emilie propelled herself with both hands. She groped for hand holds, like someone unfamiliar with zero gravity.
William took hold and helped her stand.
Frail, he thought as he helped her get used to the gravity. She’d probably never had to deal with zero-g until today, he thought. At least she didn’t puke. He gave her a pat on the shoulder. “This way.”
The pair of Serbian Marines stood at either side of the hatch. Both were in heavy boarding armor with boarding shotguns in hand. Each looked like a defending sentinel staring out a dirty crenelated wall. Beyond a small access was punched through the asteroid with only a layer of nanite adhesive to seal it all in.
“You’ve got five minutes and we’re out,” William said to Emilie.
Emilie nodded and turned her thin face towards the hatch. “Just a minute to see the inventory.”
“We’re coming in Captain,” Lieutenant Shay said over the intercom.
William looked back down the hall and saw a few maintenance personnel taking battle stations. He’d always liked how Huron ran the shifts. Relaxed, but tight enough to get the job done. “All right, into the lock.”
The team pushed through into the cramped quarters. The walls were gray sealant with a hatch on the opposite side leading to vacuum.
William could taste the stale air along with the tang of plastic in the back of his mouth. He didn’t like air locks, because he didn’t like looking down. He watched as the boarding gantry came into view and felt relieved to see it wasn’t the clear type. Looking down always freaked him out.
The door hissed and cracked open. On the opposite side a long narrow gantry wreathed in expandable insulation drooped sadly. A heavy riveted door hung on the opposite bulkhead. It wore the Core logo surrounded by red warning labels.
William took the first steps out and felt Corporal Vale’s hand on his shoulder.
“If you don’t mind, Captain.”
He let her get halfway down the gantry before following. The air took on a smell that he couldn’t place. Like an old garbage can in the winter.
A grubby face appeared in the frost edged window.
Funny, he thought. I didn’t even notice the cold. It must be adrenaline again. “Hold up, let them open it.”
Corporal Vale leaned against the insulation. A dull whine sang through the passage as the Browning powered up.
The door swung open silently. A thin, bald man stood within the doorframe. His eyes were wide, almost to the point of bugging out of his head. The uniform he wore had a vague look of professionalism but hinged on the edge of shabby. “Don’t mind the smell,” he yelled, and turned.
William wrinkled his nose and sniffed. It didn’t smell different. Oh shit. There it was. He gagged—it was like someone shit in a bag and tossed it onto a grill. The smell’s in my mouth, he kept thinking over and over.
“C’mon, Captain, it’s not as bad once you get in,” Corporal Vale called from inside the door.
The three found themselves inside an open space large enough to dock a small frigate. The walls were dull and oxidized. Crates and cases were stacked almost to the ceiling. A single lit passage went to the left while a heavy bulkhead went to the right. The man sat on the edge of a box with his legs dangling over the edge.
“Don’t get many visitors,” he said.
“Who are you?” William asked.
“Shin Xin. Keeper of this place.”
Emilie spun around and studied the facility. She stepped up onto a crate and craned her neck upwards. “What’s in all the boxes?”
Shin looked up and shrugged. “Bullshit. Possessions of the prisoners.”
“This is Emilie Rose, she owns all this now.” William waited and let it sink in. “UC is pulling out of this system until such time we deem it strategically necessary to return.”
Shin looked at Emilie and William with a confused look. “Why?”
“The war?” William said slowly.
“Huh,” Shin said. “I don’t get many visitors.”
“It’s just you?” Emilie asked.
“Yup. Why’d you need more than one keeper? It’s not like they’re going anywhere,” he said, hooking his thumb towards the riveted door. “You’re the new boss, then?”
Emilie smiled weakly and nodded. “You have an inventory?”
“Of prisoners?”
“No. Items.”
“Oh.” Shin pulled a dirty tablet from his shirt.
“Two minutes,” Corporal Vale called.
Emilie looked frantic as her hands scrolled and scrolled on the screen. She shook her head and talked to herself inaudibly.
“You’re leaving already?” Shin asked.
“She’ll be back—won’t you, Ms. Rose?” William said.
Before she could answer, the riveted door boomed and voices rang out. A single narrow window filled with dirty faces. Blotchy skin and wide eyes looked out.
“What are they in for? Murderers?” William asked.
Shin shook his head and walked closer to the heavy door. “Most are for violent crimes, worst would be manslaughter. A lot of robbery, a few nanite dealers. All for five year sentences. They keep the really nasty ones on Earth.”
William glanced back at the dirty faces in the window and nodded. A helluva way to run a prison, he thought.
“I’ll keep in touch, Mr. Xin,” Emilie said, backing away from the hatch.
“Print this,” William said, handing a tablet to Shin.
Shin laid his palm on it and sat back down quietly. He scrunched his cheeks up and nodded. “An assistant would be nice.”
*
The last stop was a monastery. It was a US Naval dropship old enough to make it into the history books. Row after row of drop capsules studded the length of the ship. Someone made a beauty for a war fought long ago. Micro meteor scars pocked the hull like it had hit with a shotgun. A bright beacon of light illuminated a crucifix with a pair of angled crossbars.
“Last one Ms. Rose,” William said as he leaned back in his chair and stretched. “Status from in system, Ms. Shay?”
Lieutenant Shay craned her neck from side to side with an audible popping. “Transport is almost loaded, they’ll be done before we are. The, uh, Grouper, is still negotiating.”
Great, he thought. Still negotiating. The Grouper had been nothing but trouble throughout the entire operation. “They’ve got until the transport is done.”
“Yes sir.”
Emilie hunched over with her elbows planted on her knees. Her face wore a look of boredom and sadness.
William watched her a moment and understood why she was going out. At every stop she took inventory and found the same thing. Not what she wanted. Not that he could help her, but still, he felt bad. A risk, was, well, a risk. He wanted to ask details but decided against it. Not his business. “Ms. Rose?”
Emilie’s head perked up and she looked around. “Hmm?”
“Monastery.” William pointed to the screen. “What does Core want with this anyhow?”
“We service it, lease them a single launch and keep them supplied. Imported food items mostly.”
Midshipman Bryce cleared his throat. “You import food here?”
“Well yes, if we can produce it cheaper elsewhere.”
“Seems kind of, well, foolish. Why ship it across a few stars when you could grow it here, ma’am?”
Lieutenant Shay shook her head and nudged Bryce with her foot. “Give a man a razor and sell him the blades.”
Bryce squinted and looked at Shay with his mouth open. “Huh?”
“She’s right. It’s a profit model. This colony is—was—a production designation for us. For Core. They bring in processed foods from other colonies with more agricultural potential.”
Bryce looked back to his station and stifled a yawn.
“Quite profitable, too,” Emilie said.
“So now that Core is pulling out?” William asked, letting the words trail.
Emilie l
icked her lips and nodded. “Well, seeing as I don’t have an agricultural colony, we’ll start growing our own.”
“Sounds like a lot of trouble,” Bryce said.
“Maybe, but it’s a challenge.”
William didn’t quite get Emilie. “Why are you doing this, Ms. Rose? Why leave Core?”
Emilie let out a deep breath and smiled sheepishly. “It seemed like a much better idea before.”
William watched her stretch out and rub her face.
“I’m from here, born on Winterthur. I left and went to Harvard under a colonial scholarship. Core was fine, but, well, Earth is an odd place to me. I guess a part of me wanted to come back, so I saw a chance and took it. It’s hard to stay away when you can make a difference.”
William looked at her without saying a word.
“We’re coming in,” Lieutenant Shay said.
Emilie dropped into silence and watched the screens.
The ancient ship loomed large in the displays. Tarnished lights flickered and pulsed to mark the docking hub. A single planetary launch hung off the bottom of the ship. The two ships came close until one nestled up to the other with a dull thud.
“All right, Shay, you know the routine, we’ll be out in a moment,” William said as he stood and cracked his back.
“Going to take me a minute to get the seal made, Captain. One helluva old design,” Huron called over the intercom.
Great, William thought. He plopped himself back down into the chair and stretched his legs. His eyes closed and he pictured himself heading back to the war. Back to where he could do some good. For some reason, Winterthur reminded him of Farshore, a longing was kindled that he hadn’t felt since he was a kid. A longing for home.
“Captain, I, uh, I’ve got something,” Bryce said.
William snapped his eyes open and focused on the center display.
The display peeled back and showed the entirety of the solar system out past the Oort band. A single relay beacon on the edge of space broadcasted an arrival. The system had four surrounding systems, each with a relay beacon on the edge of space.
Data flowed in from the relay before ceasing abruptly. It was enough to see that a pair of ships blinked in. One was a Harmony Worlds assault cruiser while the other was an armored troopship. The last points of data showed them accelerating into the system.
William punched the key for battle stations. “Huron! Get that hatch open, we’re dropping off our passenger!”
The adrenaline started to flow. He could feel his neck tingle and the palm of his augmetic hand itch. He watched the screen. It was a close enough match, or should be if the Hun hadn’t upgraded since the last time he faced them off Redmond.
Then it hit him. His orders. All he had to do was get the Core transport out. He felt everything move around him as the decision laid onto his shoulders. Cut and run, that was his orders. Leave Winterthur to its own. Could he do it? Make it another Canaan, trapped behind enemy lines to survive alone? He looked to Lieutenant Shay, who stared back at him. “Send word to the transport, they’re moving. Now. Oh! The Grouper too!”
He could taste it. The raw steeliness of the adrenaline in the back of his mouth. His hands danced on the console and brought up the nav simulation. Plot after plot laid itself out before him. Edges in, edges out, blinks points and optimizations. He didn’t like any of them. His hand swept across and cleared it all out. A slender line plotted out an intercept.
“Captain?” Lieutenant Shay said. “Our orders?”
William slapped his hand down onto the console. Damned if he did, and a coward if he didn’t. A line that Emilie spoke came back to him. She’d said it’s hard to leave when you can make a difference. Well, what more of a difference could he make? On one hand, his orders laid it out, and on top of it all, his ship would disassemble if he wasn’t back in time. But to leave a colony undefended... And he had plenty of time.
“Shit.” He looked to Bryce and Shay. “I’m not going to leave them.”
Shay looked to Bryce and then to Rose. Bryce’s face scrunched up and he nodded. Shay simply turned around and began to lay out her console.
William pushed the main intercom button. “Here’s how it is. We’ve got a Hun cruiser and troop carrier coming into system. Our orders are to leave system and not engage,” William released the intercom and let the words hang. “I’m not going to do that.”
His heartbeat rose. The patter tickled against his chest and he took a breath. Here it is, violating a direct order. All he had to do was win the day, bring the ship back, and endure a court martial. It’d be hard to prosecute if he won, and if he lost, well, you couldn’t court martial a corpse. “If you want off, now’s the time.” He looked to Ms. Rome. “That’s you.”
Emilie looked at William with wide eyes. She stood slowly and nodded. “What are you doing?”
He wondered the same thing himself, but settled on the only answer that made sense. “The right thing. Now get out, we’ve got to move.”
A slight smile spread across her face. “Good luck.”
“Vale, get Ms. Rome into the monastery. Huron? Are we ready?”
Mechanical whining and the hissing of air sounded. “Just about!” Huron replied over the clamor.
“Let me know how many depart with Ms. Rome please.”
Worry spread through him and he watched as the docking routine finish. In a few short minutes the hatch sealed again and they pushed off. He waited for the reply. It was his decision, a decision that he’d go alone if he had to.
“All clear, Captain. Just Ms. Rome,” Huron replied.
Relief and excitement started to build inside of William. He nodded and a wicked little smile spread across his face. Time to get down to business. “Shay, Bryce, let’s lay it out, time to go pick a fight.”
CHAPTER TEN
––––––––
Natyasha stood in the center of the elevator with her arms crossed and her face angry. Incompetence could be dealt with, but bad luck, well, anyone could have bad luck. “What’s Bark doing?” she asked a man standing behind her.
“Waiting for you, ma’am.”
The elevator moved upward through the upper atmosphere. The smell of crowds of people still hung in the air. The undersized filtration system wasn’t designed to handle a major influx so quickly. The elevator shuddered and hum, then stopped abruptly as harmonics stuttered along the cable.
The scene played itself out in her head. Bark was waiting with a few dozen troops. Then when the ships blinked in, it wasn’t the ship they wanted. Bark, she thought, was smart enough to know when to wait. The true mark of an ardent follower, she thought. Her eyes glanced around the elevator and saw a few trusted aides, all standing just far enough away. “Are they in system yet?”
“Yes ma’am, a cruiser and a troop ship.”
Natyasha nodded. “How long?”
“I don’t know, ma’am.”
Natyasha sighed and shifted her feet. She glanced over at a linear indicator. They were nearly three quarters of the way and the car was decelerating, or at least that’s what the display told her. She couldn’t feel a thing beyond nice level gravity. She sniffed and exhaled through her mouth. Core was gone.
The victory felt hollow. She had one of her greatest goals, but something was missing. They wouldn’t just leave, they couldn’t. There was too much tied up. In some cases the operators simply turned off the equipment and walked away. The corporate write-off must be staggering, she thought. Already she knew her people were moving in and claiming what they could. That part felt good, but there was no vindication, no explanation, just corporate control leaving.
The elevator came to a stop and the door opened to a wide expanse. Inside the length of docking station extended past a hundred meters. The space was silent, empty, barren. Only the hum of the reactor and the harmonics of the cable betrayed any life at all.
Natyasha stepped out and turned to see Bark waiting. “Well?”
“They’re on
contract,” Bark said.
“Contract? What’s that mean? To Core? To us? The UC?”
Bark took a short quick breath. “I don’t know.”
Natyasha walked past Bark and shook her head. “Are your people here?”
“They’re here.”
“Do they know?”
“I don’t think so,” Bark said.
Natyasha nodded and walked through a bulkhead to a second docking area. The emptiness felt odd to her, it always felt so alive in the docking station.
Three dozen men and women stood in dark gray body armor. Beyond them lay a hallway with a frosty patch of hull at the end. The armor plate of the hull was a dull orange with streaks of moisture weeping through the frost.
“Did they come out?”
Bark shook her head. “They inquired about provisioning, said they were waiting.”
“Waiting for what?” Natyasha snapped.
Bark kept her face impassive and followed.
Natyasha grasped a heavy comm panel and turned it to face her. She poked at the comm key and waited for it to acknowledge. She didn’t have time for this bullshit. “Put the Captain on.”
A dull click was followed by a level tone.
“This is Mustafa, this is my ship,” a thick slow voice replied.
“Mustafa what?” Natyasha asked.
“Just Mustafa. Are you here about provisions?”
“Open the goddamn door. I’m not talking to this,” Natyasha said as she slammed down the comm panel.
Bark shifted and mumbled something into her mic. The pair waited.
A thin line cracked in the frost and moisture broke through. The airlock slid open. Inside stood a man with a coal black mustache. Behind him the opposite airlock was sealed. He smiled politely. He looked to Bark and Natyasha, the smile never leaving his face. “And you are?”
Natyasha ignored him. “What do you want? Who do you work for? Core?”
The man licked his lips and peered down the hallway. “I am Mustafa, I’m not going to deal with someone whose name I do not know. It is not polite.” His fingers drifted up and itched one ear, a slight shimmer of a nanite patch glistened in the light of the airlock.
Edge of Redemption (A Star Too Far Book 3) Page 8
