Orphans In the Black: A Space Opera Anthology

by Amy J. Murphy

  “You freed them?” Erenn asked.

  “They freed themselves. They're on the move now. Be ready.”

  He switched back to Nyha, but he didn't say anything, because at last, Cors and Garde were coming back.

  He'd been forced to stop following them when the passageway had narrowed to the point where only one person could pass at a time.

  He'd been lurking, waiting for them to come back. Which at least meant he'd been able to respond to Nyha, to get things moving for their extraction.

  “It's impossible to move it. I don't care what Veld says, there is no way we're getting that thing out of that room.” Cors clumped toward him, sounding frustrated.

  “Then we have to take it apart, bring it up piece by piece.” Garde sounded implacable. “Leaving without it is not an option.”

  “How can we take it apart when we don't even know how it works? It could blow up on us.” Cors passed Mak at a fast clip, his footsteps projecting his anger.

  “Better to be blown up trying to get it out than find ourselves without it. That I can promise you. We're in line for big money, but Veld had to contract with some really nasty people for that kind of pay-off.” Garde didn't sound worried at all.

  “Then everyone comes down here to help,” Cors said, tone short and suspicious.

  “What's that supposed to mean?”

  Their voices faded a little as they got ahead of him, and Mak followed behind them. He needed to know how to get back up before he went down the passageway to see what they'd been doing.

  “It means you sound pretty relaxed about the dangers of this place blowing up, so my guess is you and Veld have yourselves a little Plan B, one that doesn't include me, or anyone else on the team.”

  Garde was quiet for a beat. “You think Veld is going to cheat you?”

  “I think Veld, and you, are good at looking after yourselves, and that you'd happily send me and the rest of the team in there to 'dismantle' it and make sure you're high and dry somewhere else in case it does blow.”

  Mak realized they'd slowed as their argument heated up, and he was almost on top of them.

  “Does anyone else think this?” Garde's voice had taken on an edge now.

  “No one here is stupid, except maybe for that idiot Hamand.”

  “Who you let in.” Garde lifted the light she'd been using to illuminate the way, and it reflected off Cors's face as he loomed over her, all angles and snarling mouth.

  “He never said a thing about being a believer when I vetted him.” Cors gave a shrug in response. “Look. All I'm saying is I'm not risking my neck for the tiny percentage Veld's promised me, while the two of you sit pretty somewhere else.”

  Garde seemed to relax. “Fair enough. We'll be down here, helping. I think Veld wants to be personally involved to make sure nothing goes wrong, anyway.”

  Cors laughed at that. “Like he'd know, one way or the other.”

  Mak saw Garde stiffen for a moment, and then she relaxed and laughed with him, clapping him on the shoulder.

  She walked a few steps to one side, lifting her light again, and Mak saw another circle in the floor.

  She crouched down, turning it by herself this time, and the ceiling above suddenly had a hole in it.

  Which probably meant after he'd gone down, the hole in the chamber above had closed.

  Cors stepped into the middle of the circle and disappeared, and Garde followed.

  Mak waited, counting it out, until the light spilling down from above was snuffed out.

  Two minutes.

  “Nyha, are you and the girls out yet? Cors and Garde are coming your way.”

  “No.” Her whisper was a hiss in his ear. “There were a few of Veld's crew in the central area, so we had to wait for them to leave.”

  “Go as quickly as you can. They're coming up behind you.”

  And there was no doubt they'd check in on their hostages on the way past, find Hamand and his friend tied up.

  He stood, undecided for a moment, and then crouched down to turn the disk, stepping onto it as a hole opened up above his head.

  He blinked and found himself on the edge of the hole in the circular room, and ran as silently as he could out the door.

  He could check out whatever was down there later, now he knew where it was. Nyha and the girls, however, needed him right now.

  Nyha pointed down the passage that hopefully led out, and made the girls go ahead of her.

  She'd told them someone would be meeting them, getting them to safety, and they hadn't asked questions, they'd simply followed her lead.

  She was proud of them.

  They ran one at a time, keeping close to the wall. Ju was last, and as she started off, Nyha heard a shout behind her.

  “Go,” she mouthed when Ju turned back, eyes wide. “Go!”

  She waited a beat until she was sure Ju had obeyed her, and then she turned and ran toward the central spiral, out into the open.

  Distract, that was all she could think of. Distract, and they would waste time on getting her while the girls got away.

  She heard another shout, more purposeful, and looked to her right.

  Cors stood on the other side of the central space. Their gazes clashed, and the rage in his eyes spurred her toward the spiral a little faster.

  Two men ran in at the sound of Cors's shout, and Nyha wasted a moment looking in their direction.

  She jumped for the spiral, hand out to catch hold of a handle, and was hauled back by a thick-set arm curled around her waist and then swung away from her escape route.

  Cors could really move, was all she could think as he shoved her in front of him, and she stumbled in an attempt to keep her balance.

  “No.” Garde's voice was sharp, a crack of sound that echoed in the atrium, and when Nyha looked back, she saw Cors lowering his arm.

  “What's wrong with you?” Garde walked forward, boots ringing with every step. “She's our insurance policy. No touching.” Her hand gripped Nyha's arm and pulled her away from Cors. “Have you lost your mind?”

  Cors seethed for a moment, and then gave a shrug, the effort of getting his rage under control clearly visible. “Adrenalin.”

  “Right.” Garde eyed him suspiciously. “Go free those idiots you left to guard the Halatians. I'll go after the girls, they can't have gotten far without their leader.” She pointed to the two men who'd come to help. “You take this one to Veld, and don't let her out of your sight.”

  She shoved Nyha at them, then stalked off toward the exit the girls had taken.

  Cors gave Nyha a last, vicious look, and strode off himself.

  Doesn't like taking orders, Nyha thought.

  “Move,” one of the men Garde had left her with barked at her, pushing her in the direction of the canteen.

  Nyha moved, following the first guard, with the second falling in behind her.

  “Nyha, don't react, just keep walking.” Mak's whisper in her comm unit made her stumble.

  “I'm walking right next to you, but you can't see me. I'm going to grab you by your waist, and I want you to stand on my boots, and I'll press you up against the wall, so I block you with my body. Stay absolutely still, and they won't be able to see either of us. Nod if you've got that.”

  She nodded, felt the soft brush of a glove on her arm.

  Suddenly, the guard behind her cried out in alarm, and two strong hands clamped her waist.

  She was lifted up and swung around, pushed up, as he said, against the wall.

  She leaned in to him, against an invisible chest, settled her feet on invisible boots, and tried not to breathe.

  “Where the fuck is she? What the fuck happened?” the guard at the front shouted.

  “Someone hit me on the head from behind, I spun to look and when I turned back she was gone. How did she get past you?”

  “She didn't get past me. She must have gotten past you.”

  She couldn't see them through Mak's bulk, but it sounded like they were stand
ing in place, turning around and around as if she would somehow reappear.

  “Shit. How are we going to explain this?”

  “Let's search a little longer. How far could she get? You go forward, I'll go back.”

  They split up, running in the agreed directions.

  “Good trick,” Nyha whispered.

  “Not bad, I'll admit.” The answer rumbled down her comm set, even though he was right in front of her, so she guessed he was wearing a helmet. She lifted her hands and patted his face to find out, discovered she was right.

  The arms around her tightened for a moment. “My team has your girls. They got them just before Garde came running out. They're safe.”

  She tipped her head forward, rested it against his chest. “Thank you.”

  “We can't go out the same way they did, not yet. And my bet is Garde will be coming back any minute.”

  He sounded like he was sorting through his options.

  “What would you be doing if I wasn't with you?” she asked.

  “I'd be looking into a strange hole in the ground.”

  “Want some company?”

  He hesitated. “I don't think I have much choice. I can't leave you, and you don't have the equipment to walk out of here unnoticed.”

  “Then let's go.” She straightened away from him.

  He sighed, sounding like he had a lot of doubts. “Follow me.”

  9

  “What do we tell the girls about the doc, Captain?” Vasouvy's voice was urgent in Mak's ear. “They want to go back in for her.”

  “I've got her. She's safe, but I can't get her out right now, it isn't clear.”

  “Right. Erenn's contacted Sinjin. They're sending one of those small pods to fetch them.”

  “One of you goes with them. Not negotiable.” He wasn't trusting those girls to the cordon officials without one of his own team watching out for them.

  “Got it. Speak soon.” Vasouvy dropped out, and Mak concentrated on getting himself and Nyha back to the circular room.

  She stood behind him, pressed up against his back, her arms and legs hidden by his, her forehead pressed between his shoulder blades as they slid along the wall.

  The guard he'd smacked in the back of the head ran past them just before they reached the central atrium, and they stood still as he stopped in the middle of the passage, did a turn, as if hoping beyond hope he would somehow discover which way Nyha had gone.

  “What is it?” Garde jogged toward him, coming back from the passage the girls had escaped from.

  “She disappeared. Just disappeared.” The guard rubbed his face in disbelief. “I know it sounds crazy, but one moment she was there, the next, she was gone.”

  Garde's lips thinned. “Actually, I do believe you.”

  He seemed to slump with relief at her words.

  “Something's going on here. Come with me.” She carried on past him, toward the docking bay. “Have you spoken to Cors?”

  Her voice faded as she turned a corner, and the guard's response was unintelligible, but it focused Mak's mind.

  He'd almost forgotten about Cors.

  Mak had passed him on the way to rescue Nyha. He'd been stalking down the passage toward the room where they'd kept Nyha and the girls, fury and temper in every line of him.

  Where was he? It didn't take that long to free two people.

  Mak hesitated before stepping into the open, central space, and Nyha leaned against him.

  It felt good, he forced himself to admit.

  “What now?” she whispered.

  “We run.” He grabbed her hand and stepped into the atrium, keeping to the walls, avoiding the exposed center.

  “Slowly now,” he told her as they started down the passage where Cors still lurked. “Get behind me again.”

  They made their way sideways, keeping to the opposite side of the passageway to the room she'd been held in.

  When they reached the opening to the room, Mak paused.

  Cors was kneeling on the ground beside Hamand, his hand fisted in the guard's shirt.

  “I'm telling you, she was talking to someone. Someone other than those girls. We approached her to find out who, and what she was using to communicate, and she attacked. We were taken by surprise.”

  “He's telling the truth.” Baint was sitting with his forehead on his knees, his voice muffled. “One minute they were sitting there, sweet and quiet, the next, they took us down.”

  Cors stood, held out a hand to Hamand and pulled him to his feet. “Go find Garde, help her get those girls back.”

  “Yes, sir.” There was an undisguised glee in Hamand's tone as he ran off to obey.

  “What're you thinking?” Baint asked as Hamand's footsteps faded away.

  “Maybe losing those girls isn't such a bad thing.”

  Cors's response froze Mak in place just as he was about to shuffle on.

  “What?” Baint lifted his head, mouth open.

  “This whole operation has gone to hell. It was desperate to start with, and there is no fucking way we're getting that generator out of here. No fucking way, whatever alternative reality Veld and Garde are living in.”

  “But I thought . . .” Baint tailed off. Cleared his throat. “I thought they knew how to get it out.”

  “Theoretically.” Cors's voice was scornful. “I should have known better. I did know better, I was just temporarily blinded by the money.”

  “Wasn't that high placed official supposed to run inference for us, though? Give us time?”

  “With this moon headed straight for Kalastoni? No matter how special those Halatians are, do you really think one high-up can persuade the Verdant String to sacrifice a whole planet for them?” Cors shook his head. “If we had a way to get that engine out quickly, this would have worked. I was just down there, and we don't. No way.”

  “What do we do, then?” Baint pushed slowly to his feet, and Mak felt a frisson of pride in Nyha when Baint winced as he straightened. She had done some damage there.

  “I'm going to have to think about it. But one thing's clear.” Cors waited for Baint in the doorway, and by the way the two men reacted to each other, Mak had the sense they were old friends. “We're making a Plan B of our own.”

  They walked away, and as soon as they were gone, Mak grabbed Nyha's hand and pulled her along to the circular room around the corner.

  It was time to find out what was under this ruin.

  It was hard following an invisible man, even if he was holding your hand.

  Nyha stumbled a few times as she bumped into Mak, but it didn't take long before they were in the circular room she and the girls had spent an hour or so in just the day before.

  The air in front of her flickered and then suddenly a massive figure all in black stood in front of her.

  His hand came up and touched the side of his helmet, and as the glass retracted, Nyha got her first look at her rescuer.

  Steady gray eyes watched her from under dark, straight brows, all set in a sharp-angled face of bronze skin.

  She smiled, and his lips quirked up in response.

  “Nice to meet you, Mak.”

  The twitch of his lips turned into a full-blown grin. “Likewise Dr. Bartali.”

  He crouched, and she realized some of his bulk was his equipment. He had a pack on his back, and he was wearing what must be a space-ready suit.

  “Going spacewalking?” she asked, crouching down opposite him.

  “I hope not.” There was a flash of worry in his eyes, and the lightheartedness that had bubbled up in her fizzled away.

  “You think there's a chance this place will go boom while we're still on it?”

  He hesitated, and her mouth dropped open.

  “You do!”

  “It's a possibility. A possibility I'm going to make it my mission to see doesn't come to pass, all right?”

  She gave a fervent nod. “I'm behind you on that.”

  There was that quick quirk of his lips again.
>
  “We have to turn this disk,” he told her. “We both turn it clockwise from each side.” He put his hands on it, and she copied him, pressed and turned the disk when he did, and then scrambled back as a hole appeared in the floor.

  “Jump in,” he said to her.

  “Are you crazy?”

  He shook his head. “Please, Nyha. Just go.”

  She shot him a look that promised revenge, and jumped.

  It was as if she'd blinked and landed somewhere else; a dark, echoing space.

  She moved away, knowing he was coming after her, and then he seemed to just be there, in another blink.

  “What is this?”

  “Damned if I know. But whatever it is, someone here's known about it long enough to set up this whole hijack, as well as The Calling's court application, and your invitation to the ruins.”

  “Garett,” she said, and there was venom and satisfaction in her tone.

  “Garett,” he agreed. “At least him; probably others.”

  “Not Faro,” she said. “Unless he's an undiscovered great of the acting scene he was genuinely working around the clock to preserve the artifacts, and was equally annoyed with my and the girls' presence here.”

  “You didn't like Garett?” he asked as he led the way down a dark passageway that seemed to get more and more narrow.

  He'd unclipped a light from his belt, but she couldn't see much past the breadth of his shoulders and the bulk of his pack.

  “He was a smarmy little asshole,” she said. “Hovering over my shoulder half the time, ignoring me the rest. And always with a slightly condescending air about him.”

  Mak made a humming sound. “You get strange vibes from anyone else?”

  “No. Well, except Catano. Who I'm guessing is a colleague of yours?”

  He turned and looked back at her. “Yes.”

  “How many of you are there?”

  “Standard Arkhor Special Forces team of seven,” he said.

  “Ah.” She got it now. “Last ditch power grab from the mother planet, right? Arkhor giving the finger to Kalastoni one last time?”