by Jaleta Clegg
He came out of the cockpit and dropped a paper on my lap. I glanced at it.
"Memorize that, captain," he said. "You will place a call in a few hours. You will be very convincing. You will not attempt to pass any coded messages." His force blade glittered in his hand. "Or your friend Jasyn will start missing bits of her face."
He meant it. One glance at his hard face convinced me. He wasn’t going to play games anymore.
"And after that we’ll carve up her husband. And the other two. And then you will wish you were dead. I’m expert at keeping people alive and in pain for weeks. Months. Possibly even years." The force blade snapped away. He stalked off.
I picked up the paper and read it through. My heart sank. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t make the threat. I couldn’t make myself a pirate. I had to. Or Harris would start having fun with his knife. And this time he wouldn’t stop himself.
The paper shook in my hand. I swallowed hard and steadied it. I had to figure out how to read this message in a way that would convince whoever I was talking to that I was being forced to read it. I had to focus, I had to think. Visions of what knives were capable of doing to people interfered.
I closed my eyes and counted slowly to ten. Deep breath with each count, I reminded myself. Let the tension go. Let the threat slide off. Concentrate on what you have to do. You’ve done worse than this and survived. You can do this.
I read through the paper again and again. There were coordinates listed. They were vaguely familiar. Where? Maybe I should have taken navigation courses. I had a pilot’s license and an assistant engineer’s rating. I never thought navigation would come in so handy. I memorized the coordinates, just in case.
I shook, nervous twitches due to the drugs they’d given me. My throat was dry. I looked at my watchdog. Tom sat impassively in his chair, watching me with a single minded purpose that was scary in its intensity.
"I need a drink," I said, letting my voice croak.
He stood when I did and escorted me across the lounge to the galley. I got water and drank it, turning around casually and leaning against the counter. The door to the third cabin was open. I saw Ginni and Habim on the bunk. Ginni was sleeping, leaning against Habim. The big man was busy dismantling a com unit. He stared at it, his tongue sticking out as he concentrated. I shifted to one side, slowly, so I could see the others.
Jasyn and Clark were on the other bunk. Clark still had a black eye, now purple and yellow and very ugly. He saw me looking in and winked. Jasyn leaned against him, acting asleep. Whatever his wink meant, it did help me feel better. I still had no idea how we were going to get out of this.
I lifted the water to my mouth, using both hands, letting him see the force cuffs. He nodded.
Tom nudged me, not very gently. Water spilled over my front. He took the cup from me and put it in the sink. He marched me back to the bench. I sat down, and picked up the paper.
Harris gave no indication he’d seen anything. He sat at my table, poring over his charts and papers. He muttered occasionally. I bent my head over the page and tried to work things out. I read through the coordinates again.
The hull creaked as something shrieked over it. I heard the sizzle of the shields being activated. I risked a quick glance into the cockpit. We were moving through a nebula. Streaks of flaming, glowing gases swirled in front of us. Jerimon was in my chair, guiding the ship. His shoulders were tense, he played his hands over the controls with a finesse I might have admired if I weren’t so mad at him.
The other two crew members Harris had brought on board were in there. I’d seen little of the two men. They kept to themselves, staying either in the cockpit or in Jasyn’s cabin where they’d moved their belongings.
One was running the scanners. We had a full set of very sophisticated equipment, stuff that even most Patrol ships didn’t have, courtesy of Lowell, but they were hidden behind a false panel. He was using the standard equipment and swearing a blue streak.
Another something smacked across the hull. The lights flickered as Jerimon fed more power into the shields. I fought the urge to go in the cockpit and insist on flying my own ship. Harris would beat me senseless if I tried.
I held the paper up again. Ghost jumped onto my lap and rubbed against my face. She purred in my ear. Her tail accidentally twitched into the force cuffs. She jumped straight up, fur standing out from her body. She shrieked a cat noise and scrambled away from me. She ended up on the ledge high over the cleaner, hissing and meowing and frantically licking her fur down. Harris glared at her.
"Remove the animal," he told one of the thugs. "Space it or something. It’s getting on my nerves."
The thug reached for Ghost. Her claws snaked down and left streaks of blood across his hand. He cursed and grabbed for her again. He got scratched again. Harris glared and ordered the others to help.
The three big thugs danced under the ledge trying to bat Ghost down. It would have been funny if I wasn’t so certain that they would wring her neck when they caught her. Ghost hissed up a storm, her ears flat against her head. Her claws kept drawing blood. The thugs were all swearing now. Tom watched them, with a grin on his face.
One of them got smart and used the broom to push Ghost from her perch. She landed on a thug’s head. He screamed and grabbed for her. Her claws shredded one ear. She howled like a banshee. She leapt off his head and scampered into the cabin where they were holding the rest of my crew. The thugs crowded in the door after her.
I heard Ghost scrabbling into the access tunnels. They were never going to catch her now.
The com beeped. Harris looked up. "Leave the animal," he ordered his men. He walked up front. He answered the com himself.
"What?"
Something crackled over the speakers about being in position. The nebula radiation swirls wreaked havoc on reception.
"Good. Hold steady. Wait for the signal."
There was more crackling.
"Then move to the other coordinates," Harris snapped. He was not being patient with anyone today.
Good, I thought. Angry, impatient people made mistakes. And I was willing to use any opening he gave me. He glanced my way. I rattled the paper, trying to look studious. I had the short message memorized.
Harris stalked up to me and smacked the paper. "You had better be convincing, Dace. And no tricks." He went back to the table.
Time crawled by. The scraping and shrieking over the hull got on Harris’ nerves. He twitched at each loud noise. I trusted my shields and Jerimon’s piloting skills. I didn’t trust Jasyn’s brother any farther than I could throw him, but I knew he was one of the best pilots I’d ever flown with.
"They’ve picked up our trail, Hom Harris," the man on the scanning equipment said.
Harris hurried back to the cockpit and leaned over the man.
"Three of them," the man said.
The ship suddenly rocked to one side, shields buzzing loudly.
"They’re shooting at us," Jerimon said.
"Warning shot," Harris said. "Keep us out of range. And lose two of the ships."
Jerimon took the ship on a twisting dive, evading the rest of the shots that hissed past the ship. We entered a thicker knot of dust. The screaming over the hull became constant.
"The shields won’t last long in here," Jerimon said. "We’re going to run out of power in a few hours."
"A few hours is all we need," Harris said.
There was a louder thump and screech. The ship veered suddenly left. I bit my tongue on a scathing description of Harris and his brain. The left stabilizer had been knocked clean off. I glanced into the cockpit and saw Jerimon wrestling with the controls. He boosted the engine speed and plowed us through the dust cloud, laying in a twisted course that was sure to almost lose any pursuit.
We came back out into a clearer space and he slowed. Another shot knocked the ship sideways. Jerimon and the other pilot sent us spiralling back into the dust cloud.
I grabbed the cushion, trying to keep
from being thrown around as he manuevered the ship through a series of tight curls and twists. Tom wasn’t so lucky. His chair skidded across the lounge, crashing into the table and leaving him in a heap on the floor. He got up, swearing loudly, and fastened the chairs into the slots in the floor. He and the other thugs gathered up all the loose items that had been thrown around the room and stowed them in whatever locker or drawer was closest.
One of them slammed shut the door to the third cabin and locked it. Jasyn and Clark should know enough about space to realize where we were and what dangers we faced. They’d have enough sense to strap themselves and Ginni and Habim down. I wasn’t so lucky. With my hands cuffed in front of me I couldn’t get a good grip on the bench. I clung to the cushion and tried to keep steady.
Harris strapped himself into the fourth seat in the cockpit. He watched the scans over his man’s shoulder.
Tom clomped back near me and dragged me off the bench. The other thugs had already taken refuge in the end cabin. Tom hauled me into my cabin and locked me in my bathroom. I braced myself on the narrow strip of floor and tried to keep from banging my head into the walls as Jerimon played with my ship.
We lost the other stabilizer sometime later. The ship was going to be a pain to fly without them. I wondered what other bits of equipment were now part of the nebula.
Locked in the bathroom, I couldn’t spy on Harris, but I didn’t have to bite my tongue either. I let loose with a long stream of profanity. I used every bit of bad language I knew. It helped a little. It was better than curling into a ball and giving up.
The lights dimmed to emergency levels and stayed there. Jerimon had to be milking the engine of every bit of power he could get for the shields and steering. It wouldn’t be too serious if he drained them all the way. An hour or two of recharging and rebalancing and we would be able to move again. If we had an hour or two.
The ship finally dragged a stop. The engine dropped to a barely detectable throbbing. The lights stayed off in the bathroom. The grav fields had been cut to almost nothing. I waited for the shot I knew would be coming, the one that would blast us to bits.
It never came.
The door to the bathroom slid open. I blinked in the sudden bright light of my cabin. Tom hustled me out and into the cockpit. He shoved me into the chair in front of the com unit.
Harris handed me the paper. "Time for you to make a call. No funny business, Dace." The force blade glittered in his hand. He took the seat behind me, out of range of the camera pickup for the com, but close enough he could stick his blade into me without reaching.
"Who am I calling?" I looked down at the com unit and the force cuffs glowing on my wrists.
"Whatever Patrol ship is out there, waiting to blow us up." Harris prodded me with his finger. I flinched.
I lifted my hands over the controls. Harris leaned forward, holding the knife next to me. I very carefully touched only the controls for identifying and calling the ship.
The screen lit up, glowing green. The ship id flashed on the screen. I had to hide the surge of hope I felt at the name. The Avenger, Tayvis’ ship. Harris tapped me on the shoulder making me jump.
"Make the call," he whispered in my ear.
My hands shook as I punched in the code. We waited while the signal chirped.
The com officer on the Avenger answered. I froze my face in a mask that I hoped would be as much of a clue that something was wrong with the call as anything I could possibly say. The call was acknowledged. I found myself looking into the bridge of the Avenger. Captain Suweya? I hoped I remembered the name right. I made myself smile, just a bit.
"Captain Suweya, of the Avenger," I said. "A pleasure to speak to you."
Harris leaned back, letting the glitter of the force knife remind me what he would do if I misstepped.
"I very much doubt that," Captain Suweya answered coldly. He gave me the speech I expected, placing me under arrest. I scanned the narrow view I had while he talked. Where was Tayvis? What could I say to get his attention? He was there, standing next to the captain, with Darus. I swallowed hard, hiding the relief that flooded through me.
"I can’t allow that, Captain," I said interrupting Suweya as he threatened me. My mind raced, trying to find a way to pass a message to Tayvis that Harris wouldn’t suspect. "You will instead cease and desist from harassing us in the performance of our rightful occupation."
"You’re smuggling drugs, illegal weapons, and counterfeit currency," Captain Suweya countered. "You will be boarded and placed in confinement aboard my ship."
I cut him off. I had only a limited time before Harris began to suspect I was stalling. "Captain, please, it’s getting annoying listening to you. I see you have some of your crew with you." I looked deliberately past Darus and settled on Tayvis. I pleaded with my eyes for him to understand. "Ensign Tayvis," I said in the coldest voice I could manage, "what a pleasant surprise. Just like old times, isn’t it, you chasing me across the Empire. Hopefully the end game turns out better this time." I hoped he understood. I’d finally figured out the coordinates Harris wanted me to feed them. They would put us somewhere near Viya Station.
Harris jabbed me in the back. I bit back a scream. It was only his finger. He was running out of patience. "Enough chatting, Captain," I said cutting back to the message I was supposed to deliver. "You will allow us to leave immediately."
Captain Suweya did what I expected him to do. He bristled and threatened me back. "Or what, Captain Dace? Your ship has been outmaneuvered. You have no weapons. Surrender or suffer the consequences."
I wasn’t sure if my message had gotten through to Tayvis. I had to do something, say something else, and hope it wouldn’t cost me part of my anatomy or any of my friends.
"I’m afraid the consequences will be yours, Captain Suweya." I let my tongue go, guarding what I said just enough to keep from blurting out something that would be deadly to me and my crew. "You force my hand."
Harris rattled the paper. I looked down at the words that were burned into my memory. I didn’t want to say them. I didn’t want to brand myself a pirate and worse. I didn’t have a choice. Harris increased the pressure of his blade. I felt a sharp prick between my shoulder blades and a trickle of something warm I didn’t want to think about.
"You have exactly ten days to collect five million credits, in small denominations, of course," I added with a grimace that I hoped looked like a smile, "and meet me at these coordinates." I read them off mentally crossing my fingers that I was right about them being near Viya Station. "If you aren’t there or arrive without the money, something awful will happen." They looked as if my threat bored them. Harris hadn’t specified anything. I invented as quickly as I could. "Think of the worst possible action I could take." I saw Darus’ eyes widen. "It’s worse than that. Since I know you’ve recorded this, I won’t repeat myself. Good-bye, Captain Suweya. Give my regards to your brother, Tayvis," I added.
Harris’ hand slammed down on the controls, breaking the connection. I flinched away from him. He grabbed me by my hair and yanked me into the lounge.
"Who’s Tayvis?" Harris demanded of Jerimon. He kept hold of my hair, forcing me to my knees. His other hand held the force knife in front of my face.
"Tayvis is her boyfriend," Jerimon answered as he piloted the ship away from the Avenger and the nebula.
"Was that him?" Harris shook my head, the knife was much too close to my eyes.
"That was him," Jerimon answered.
"And?" Harris demanded, still not satisfied that I hadn’t broken his rules.
"What she said was innocent enough," Jerimon lied. I knew he knew better. Harris would kill his sister and he knew it. For her sake, I hoped Jerimon wouldn’t betray me again. Jerimon swiveled the chair around, now that we were on a straight course in relatively clear space on the far side of the nebula. The third crewman programmed in a course on the nav comp. Jerimon gave me a flat stare.
"If she hadn’t asked, he would have been suspiciou
s." He looked up at Harris, dismissing me. "He’s only a gunnery officer."
"Then what was he doing on the bridge?" The force blade moved a fraction of an inch closer to my nose. Harris knew enough about the Patrol to realize that Tayvis shouldn’t have been on the bridge. What else did he know? Lesson two, he’d said, don’t underestimate me. I stared at the shimmering blade and hoped Harris had underestimated me.
"He should have shot us, blown us into dust," Jerimon said, swiveling back around. "My guess is that he was called in to answer to the captain why he didn’t."
"Why?" Harris prompted. He bought the lies. The knife moved ever so slowly away from my face.
"Because he knows this is Dace’s ship and he wouldn’t shoot her to save his own skin," Jerimon said.
"A boyfriend, in the Patrol." Harris laughed. "That’s the last thing I’d expect from you." He shook me by my hair and shoved me towards my bench. The knife snicked away. "Unless, of course, you’re Patrol," he added slowly, suspicions awakening. The knife snicked back out.
"I’m not Patrol," I said, backing away.
"Is she, Jerimon?" Harris asked, moving towards me. The force blade glittered in his hand. I swallowed hard and scooted back until I was against the base of the bench. The handles for the storage lockers underneath jabbed into my back.
"Not hardly," Jerimon said, snorting contemptuously. "She likes to think she’s undercover. They wouldn’t take her. She’s gotten in their way almost as much as she got in yours."
He shouldn’t have added that last remark. Harris snarled and grabbed my hair. His knife flashed through it, hissing as he sheared off a big handful of hair. I grabbed my ears and ducked. Harris laughed and dropped the handful of hair in my lap.
"If I find you’ve crossed me again," he said, leaning over to spit in my face, "I’ll cut off more than hair." He straightened as the knife disappeared into his pocket. He turned his back on me. "Clean her up, Tom."
Tom marched me into my cabin. Strands of brown hair fluttered to the floor behind me. Tom shoved me through the door to the bathroom. I caught the edge of the sink to keep from landing headfirst in the cabinets. Without wanting to, I looked in the mirror. Harris had shaved off the top half of my hair. It stuck up in various lengths. The rest hung around my face. It looked awful.
