by C. G. Hatton
“I know you’re still recovering, Luka, but I need you to take me to the guy you stole this from.” She recognised it. He could see her thinking about Hil. “This and the knife.”
LC shook his head. “I told you already, I took them from a dead guy.”
“Well, take me to that dead guy.” She didn’t believe him. He could read her thoughts as clearly as if they were displayed on a screen. Every time she’d called by, she’d been friendly, endearing almost, and he’d been hard pushed not to fall for it. She hadn’t mentioned the knife and he’d managed to stay cool despite her advances. Now that he was obviously going to live, that desperate need and fondness he’d felt from her while he was bleeding on the floor seemed to have evaporated.
“Why?” he said obstinately. “What was so special about him?”
She took her hand away and looked at him. “He killed someone I cared about and I want to find him.”
She was lying.
“He was dead,” LC said. “What does it matter?”
Sean put her hand on his leg. It might have been healing but it was still sore. She pushed down ever so slightly and leaned towards him. “It matters to me. Where is he?”
“Probably scattered out in space by now.”
She frowned. “Where was he? Where was it?”
He was getting a headache and he didn’t like the not so subtle attempt at intimidation. He tried to shift his weight to ease the pressure on his leg but she stayed with him. He said the first thing that came to mind and regretted it as soon as it was out, “Abisko.”
She sat back and it was obvious that she was trying to keep her face neutral.
He quickly said, “Maybe it was Abisko.”
She’d been there looking for him. How the hell did she know about Abisko? She was looking at him like she was reassessing the whole situation.
“I need you to show me,” she said.
LC whispered, “I’m not leaving with you, Sean.”
She looked at the IV line and he thought she was going to try something, but she flashed on an image of NG and Hil, utter frustration, and the moment was gone as Elliott turned up.
“He’s not up to going anywhere,” the tech guy said, leaning against the doorframe, arms folded.
Sean stood up and smiled, the old charms turned on full blast. “We’ll see,” she said like she’d been trying to persuade him to go on a date with her and she left, edging past Elliott with a delicate touch to his arm.
LC watched, bemused. Elliott didn’t quite know where to put himself. When she’d gone, he stared after her for a while then turned, a puzzled look on his thin face. “She followed you onto the ship at Sten’s World, did you know that?”
“I don’t care,” LC said, sitting up and stretching out his leg beneath the sheet.
Elliott pulled a handful of medical supplies from the drawer. LC let him change the dressing on the gunshot wound, watching with detached interest. The flesh around the entry point was swollen and mottled still but less angry than it had been. He flexed the muscle, feeling the soreness down to the knee. He knew he needed to start moving and once done, moved to swing his legs round to get up.
Elliott stopped him with an outstretched hand. “Don’t even think about it,” he said. “If you want to keep this quiet, no one should see you up yet. We’re about an hour out. Give me another hour once we’ve docked to get everyone off the ship, then get dressed and come up to the bridge. There’s something I want to show you.”
LC snoozed and listened to the sounds of the ship docking then pulled out the IV, got up and stood to test his balance. Even going through a simple set of stretches set his leg off aching. He was trying to work his way through pushups when Elliott called down to give him the go ahead.
He slipped down the corridor to his cabin and found his boots clean and a neatly folded pile of clothes on his bunk. He picked up the armoured vest and absently picked at a tear in the chest, right over where his heart would have been. Christ, he couldn’t even remember that one. His combat pants were there too, clean but with a ragged hole in the thigh. He threw those in a corner, showered, rooted a fresh pair out of his locker and made his way up to the bridge.
Elliott was sitting at the main console, quietly flicking through screens of data. One was an image that looked like footage from a microscope, squirming organisms fighting for supremacy. LC peered at it as he took off his jacket and sat down, breathless and sweating. “What is that?”
Elliott smiled and looked over at him. “Are you alright?”
“No,” he said. He gestured towards the screen. “What is it?”
“I reckon it’s some kind of organism,” the tech guy said, “and I reckon that is why you didn’t die out there and why you have a price of twenty six million on your head.”
Chapter 14
“You don’t believe it’s an organism,” the Man said softly, hands laced across his chest, making no move to take his turn.
NG shook his head, sitting back himself and resting the goblet of wine on his knee. “I don’t know what it is.”
“The infamous package.”
NG could feel his heart pounding, the awareness of each beat intensified as he drank more of the wine. If Hilyer had known what the package was and what had happened to LC, he’d hidden it well.
“The facility they were sent to was destroyed,” he said. “Reactor meltdown is the official story. As far as we know, it’s not public knowledge that it belonged to the Earth military. How many people, if any, know exactly what they had in there is anyone’s guess.”
“And this elusive ship’s technician?”
That was a harder question to answer. NG shook his head again, a small movement, reluctant to admit they’d failed to uncover anything about Elliott. “We don’t know.”
The Man sat patiently, dark eyes watching and waiting.
NG sat up. “Same as the ship,” he said. “Legal and Media are beyond themselves trying to beat each other to find out who he is and where he came from. There’s nothing, no trace at all. We don’t even have any leads to follow.”
•
LC stood up and took a step back, a cold chill hitting his stomach. He reached behind his back and pulled the gun out of his waistband, holding it down by his side as he took another step away.
Elliott swung round to look at him. “Where are you going to go, Luka? If you run now, where’s left to go?”
There was none of that awkward shyness the guy had affected when he was around the others. LC stared back at him. “How did you find out?”
“About the bounty? I tracked Sean to the ship she has stashed here in the port, the ship that’s been following us since she came on board, and had a very interesting – exchange – with her AI. They don’t think you’re the guy they are after because your DNA didn’t match a profile they’re working to. But this,” he swung back and tapped on the screen, “this could explain that, don’t you think? Seriously, Luka, where are you going to go? I told you, I’m not going to tell anyone your secret. And if I wanted to cash you in, I wouldn’t have let on, would I?”
It was hard not to turn and run, right then. The guy was a void, giving nothing away. LC hesitated. “What else do you know?”
Elliott smiled. “I know you have a Senson Six, not Four. That’s covert military grade technology and as far as I know it hasn’t even hit the black market yet. And I’m reasonably certain you’re not military.”
He turned back to the console and started tapping at the screens. “Sit down, LC, before you fall down.”
LC sat, trying to control the adrenaline rush and ease his heart rate. “Where is everyone?”
“Sean is in a bar with some guy I reckon is probably another bounty hunter. I had to tell her you were unconscious again and unlikely to wake up for a while. Hal is taking his friend back to the lad’s family. Gallagher took Thom to Danny’s Bar and I don’t know where DiMarco went. Out of all of them, watch yourself with him.”
LC looked bac
k at the screen with the image of the organism. The display was frozen and magnified. “Do you know what it is?” He was aware that Elliott was watching him.
“It’s running riot in your body – don’t you know?”
LC rubbed the back of his neck. It was weird to be talking so openly to someone about this. “No, I don’t.”
“I’m not even going to ask how you got it.” Elliott paused and flicked the screen to let the footage play. “I’m no expert on human biology but on the regeneration traits alone, I’m not surprised someone wants to pay twenty six million to get their hands on you. And it looks like it’s mutating.”
Christ, that was all he needed. LC tucked the pistol away into the small of his back and stood up. “I need a beer. Do you want anything?”
He grabbed two bottles from the mess and was making his way back to the bridge when Thom called, a frantic tight wire request that he was tempted to ignore.
The kid pushed it again so he allowed the connection, pausing on the stairs to catch his breath.
“Luka, are you awake? We’ve got a problem.”
The last time the kid had said that there were heavily armed mercenaries storming the ship. LC sat down on the step, easing the weight off his leg. “What is it, Thom?”
“Oh god, Luka, we’re playing poker with the Gadini brothers.”
LC had to choke back a laugh.
“Gallagher’s drunk,” Thom said. “God, Luka, what do I do?”
The kid sounded half cut himself. Danny didn’t water down his whisky and if they’d had a session anything like last time, Gallagher wouldn’t be able to hold a hand of cards never mind play a coherent game. He hadn’t realised Gallagher was buddies with the Gadini family when he’d made his flippant comment to Thom the last time they were here. The Gadinis ran a ship repair business, strictly legit as far as he knew, and from what Olivia said they were a decent bunch of people making the best of a bad situation.
“Get a coffee, Thom,” he said, standing and making his way up the stairs. They were in good hands. They’d be fine. Grandma Gadini would probably cook them breakfast in the morning. “Strong coffee with a lot of sugar, and get one for Gallagher as well.”
Elliott was watching a real time video feed when he got back. LC handed over one beer and popped the top on his own, settling into the chair and putting his feet up on the console.
“What’s that?” he asked, yawning, glad the guy had moved on from the technicolour nightmares swimming about in his bloodstream.
“Sean,” Elliott said, switching the view to a wider angle. “Have you seen this guy before?”
She was in a bar, standing with a tall guy, well built, with stubble that looked neat and contrived rather than scruffy.
“No,” LC said, strangely put out that she was drinking socially with someone. “Is that him?”
“He’s not wearing a badge but no one would be stupid enough to show one out here. I reckon he’s a bounty hunter. There’s a lot more ships docked since we were last here a few days ago.”
LC downed half the bottle, wishing he’d brought a couple more. He couldn’t be bothered to go back down to the mess. And when he couldn’t be bothered to shave, he didn’t look anywhere near that dapper. “What else did you get from her ship?”
“Apart from the information on the bounty?” Elliott said with a smile. “She has a full file on you – ID, biometrics, something about Paninski. And training records. Who was training you to do what, LC?”
He had a disconcerting knack of throwing in a complete sidewinder with very little effort. And LC had no way of knowing whether the guy was malicious or toying with him for kicks. He paused with the beer bottle half way to his lips and smiled back. “Doesn’t it say?”
“She has a file on some guy called Zachary Hilyer as well. Was she after him too?”
LC drained the bottle and sat forward, dropping his feet back onto the floor so he could up and run if he had to. He kept hold of the bottle. “Does it say anything about where she got the file?”
“No, it doesn’t. The whole document bundle was carefully anonymous with regard to its origins as if,” Elliott sat back himself pondering the issue, “it had been sanitised for an outside audience, I would think.”
LC laughed. “Elliott,” he said, “hand me in or don’t, just don’t fuck with me.”
Elliott smiled. “Why would I want to hand you in, Mr Anderton, you’re far too entertaining.”
It was a knife’s edge as to whether this could get nasty. LC wasn’t too bad at reading people but he’d already become way too reliant on his recently developed ability to sense what people were thinking, if not to hear their thoughts outright. Elliott was a complete unknown and the way he spoke, he could turn quickly and unpredictably.
LC tumbled the bottle so he ended up grasping it around the neck. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but why the hell should I trust you?”
The guy raised his eyebrows and looked disappointed. “I’m not going to hand you in, LC. I don’t need the money. Gallagher is my concern and I have a feeling he’s going to need you around. Whatever it is you’ve done to earn that little price tag and wherever you’ve come from, I’m not interested. Sean, on the other hand…”
LC looked back at the screen. They were still talking. He wondered if it was about him but the image was too pixelated to be able to lipread or guess. She wasn’t drinking but she was standing close to the guy, often placing a hand on his back.
He watched her, watched her give that familiar gesture to someone else, feeling cold inside. It was a wake up call to see it. She was a bounty hunter and she was after the twenty six million. That was her only interest in him, whatever other emotions he’d picked up from her. He’d been a fool to think she could have been feeling anything else.
They watched Sean for a while then Elliott started switching between random views across the whole station. LC fell asleep curled up on the chair. He felt just about safe enough to snooze. Elliott had a point and like he’d said earlier, if he was going to hand LC in, he would have done it already.
He was woken up by an insistent impulse hammering at the edges of his awareness. Thom tagged it with urgent priority that LC almost didn’t recognise. And when he allowed the kid in, his voice was vague like he was having trouble concentrating.
“Luka, we’re in real trouble. We’re not at Danny’s any more and Gallagher’s been dragged into another game. He’s been played and he doesn’t know it. Oh god, Luka, he’s going to wager the ship.”
“Thom, calm down. Where are you?”
“I don’t know but if Gallagher gets into this any deeper, he’s going to lose the ship.” His voice was tinged with a desperate edge.
“Thom, where you are?”
“We’re in a back room somewhere with four people.” The kid wasn’t thinking straight, the words coming through broken and unclear.
“Thom, calm down. Where on the station are you?”
“Some bar. They brought us here,” muffled, panicky, nothing like the neat controlled communications of earlier.
“Where?”
“The Reo,” the kid said finally. “We’re in some place called the Reo. I can’t let him lose the ship. What do I do?”
LC groaned. “Stay with Gallagher. For god’s sake, don’t leave him alone.”
Thom cut the connection.
Elliott raised his eyebrows. “They’re in the Reo?”
LC looked at the skinny tech guy. There was no way he should have had access to a private tight wire link between two high end implants. “Did you hear all that?” he said.
Elliott nodded, absolutely no embarrassment at being caught eavesdropping.
That was something else to file for future reference. LC stood up and shrugged into his jacket, feeling cold suddenly. “What the hell is Gallagher doing at the Reo?”
“Thomas sounds concerned, don’t you think?” Elliott said.
LC narrowed his eyes. “He should be.”
“Why? He’s been on this ship for about a week longer than you have. You’ve both known Gallagher for a handful of days. I know why you care. You have nowhere else to go. Why is Thom so disturbed? It’s just a job. He’s an engineer – a good engineer. He could walk onto any ship in this dock and get hired on the spot. What is it to him if Gallagher loses the Duck?”
Elliott was playing at something and LC desperately tried to resist getting caught up in it, but he did care about Gallagher, however foolish the old guy turned out to be.
Elliott whispered, conspirator through and through, “Thom has a Six, did you know that?”
Christ, how much more complicated could this get? LC knew exactly what he was getting at. The kid was obviously ex-military and way too young for the type of training he kept dropping back to. And with a Senson Six? Sean had said high end but a Six?
“So what is he?” LC said cautiously. “He’s not a bounty hunter, I know that much.”
“I have a feeling,” Elliott said, leaning back, “that he’s more interested in Gallagher than you. Or the ship. I haven’t figured out which yet.”
LC began to pace up and down across the limited deck space of the bridge, trying to figure out if he could walk without limping and flaking out like an invalid. “If Gallagher’s caught up in a back room game at the Reo, he’s lost the ship already. Those guys don’t fool around. Did Thom sound strange to you?”
“He sounded drunk.”
“Elliott, I may have only known Thom for five minutes but I’m telling you the kid can’t drink and he’ll avoid it if he can. If this is going down the way I think it is, he’s been spiked.”
“Spiked?”
“Drugged.” LC rubbed his eyes, feeling a headache begin to pulse. He’d spent enough time in places like this to know the scam. “They’ll have hustled Gallagher into thinking he was on a winning streak, spiked his drinks and increased the size of the bets. You start losing but you’re too far in to pull out, then they deal you a hand you can’t lose, on stakes you can’t afford. They’ll have thrown Gallagher the great idea that he could put up his ship as collateral to cover the cash. And if he was trying to get the money to pay the repair bill, he couldn’t have refused. Especially if he was half out of his mind on the kind of crap they use to make everything seem like such a good idea.”
