“No, sir, Captain Guthrie. But we had reports of a problem. I’ll need to check the others’ IDs.”
Sully gave Philip a barely perceptible nod as he fished in his jacket for the ID.
“We’re on Admirals’ Council business,” Philip continued. “I don’t want to be delayed through a misidentification. I need clearances sent from here through to 7-Blue.”
“Very good, sir. I still need to log them in to do that.”
Sully held the cards out to Halpert. “For my wife and myself.”
I knew Philip heard, but his only reaction was to clasp his hands behind him, rock slightly back on his heels. A sign that meant he was holding his temper.
Halpert scanned the cards, frowned. “I’m sorry, but—”
Sully’s hand grasped his shoulder in a casual manner. “A problem, Lieutenant? I think the system’s just running a little slow right now.”
“A little slow.” Halpert took a deep breath. “Sometimes this happens.”
Sully removed the cards from the slots. “We’re clear to go.”
“You’re cleared.”
A second barely perceptible nod. This time from Philip to Sully. An acknowledgment of what he knew Sully could do. Change what someone thought, what someone saw. Just as Gregor had said.
I toyed with questions while we walked. It was early evening, station time. Less work uniforms, more civilian clothing on the clusters of people passing by. But I wasn’t thinking of Marker 2 at the moment.
Why didn’t you do that when we got to Moabar Station? I remembered how my card had read out an error in Berri’s medical files. Drogue, Ren, Sully, and I had all crowded around the scanner.
Takas get suspicious when touched by humans. I had to wait for the MOC officer to focus on the screen before I could “show” her the file was clear.
He’d brushed against her, I thought. Or touched her. Changed what she saw.
In the core, why didn’t you make me forget what you did?
I felt a small twinge of pain. He was remembering my fear, as I was.
Besides the fact I’d have no explanation of how we’d arrived uplevel?
So it’s not like a zral, or … I didn’t want to say the other word.
It’s more like a distraction. A sleight of hand. It has to be consistent with the situation. I don’t like when I have to do that, Chasidah. It’s a decision I make; it’s something I do only when I have no other choice. When lives are threatened.
A group of people waiting at the lifts talked excitedly. I thought about Sully’s answers as I watched the group. I had to watch all the stationers moving around us, toward us. Berri and Lazlo were out there. But so were others, others I wouldn’t recognize. We had to get to Blue, halfway around from where we were in Green.
Two stripers on patrol nodded but said nothing. Sully flashed thought-pictures over his link to Ren. They were moving cautiously, Verno’s short rifle concealed, wrapped in his jacket.
Philip slowed, his hand rising slightly. “General checkpoint ahead. You can read if there are problems from this distance, can’t you?”
On the left side of the corridor were a portable scanner and three stripers, two female, one male. All human. That was a good sign. No Takas who didn’t want to be touched.
Sully’s eyes darkened. Philip watched him. I wondered what his family’s files on Ragkirils, on Kyi-Ragkirils, had told him. Enough that he’d known what Sully was after he’d scanned him. Enough to be angry at the intrusion. Enough to state we all had very good reasons to be afraid.
“They’re bored,” Sully said after a moment. We picked up our pace. “Nothing interesting’s happened. If Halpert sent through our clearances from the Fleet checkpoint, we should be fine.”
“If he hasn’t, he’ll find himself sitting a few rather unpleasant duty shifts.” Philip squared his shoulders, held his ID out to the tall woman security officer, read the name off her tag. “Cortez. We’re on Admirals’ Council clearance. My ID should suffice.”
Cortez scanned it and briefly studied us. She was an older woman. Her duty pins showed twenty-five years. I couldn’t remember if I’d ever seen her on Marker before, but it wasn’t unlikely.
“Captain Guthrie.” She handed him back his card. “Jumptalk has it you’re up for an admiralty. Congratulations.”
“It won’t be official until next week, but thank you.” Philip flashed her a smile, full of Guthrie confidence and magnetism. She smiled back.
Hell, it’d worked on me for years. He ranked right up there on my list of charming bastards.
“Your associates are clear.” She waved us through. The male striper leaned over, said something in her ear.
Cortez responded with a narrow-eyed glance. “That’s Philip Guthrie, you idiot.” She caught Philip’s glance back to her. “Sorry, sir. We’ve been told to watch for Farosian terrorists.”
“I’m aware of the advisory. Thank you for your cooperation.” He leaned toward me as we walked. His fingers closed around my elbow for a few moments. “The advisory might be genuine, or something Burke’s put in place, looking for you. He’s evidently trying to drag the Farosians into this. His contact in Prew’s circle either has a reason to shed suspicions on Blaine’s people or else his imagination is severely limited. Every time something happens lately in the Empire, the Farosians are blamed.”
“That’s because I’m not around anymore,” Sully said, his gaze straight ahead.
“You, however, were at one time responsible for a large number of problems. Including the one you’re in now. Mind telling me how a Kyi-Ragkiril didn’t know this Solaria woman worked for Burke?”
“Because she believes she’s on a holy mission. That’s all I read from her. The insane believe their lies to be truth. Her insanity fits nicely into her religious devotion.”
The corridor curved slightly. In the center, a group of young Fleet personnel, all ensigns, talked animatedly, laughing. They saw Philip’s captain’s insignia and quieted for a moment.
Philip steered me around them, his hand grasping my arm again. “Do the Englarians know what you are?” he asked Sully.
“They know I’m doing everything I can to stop the gen-labs. Beyond that, they haven’t asked and I don’t volunteer.”
Valid reasons. I remembered him saying that. But isn’t an omission a lie?
If the truth is so unacceptable, what have I achieved by revealing it? And if it prevents them from working with me, then jukors breed and more Takas die.
I held my thoughts for several steps. Words like risk, fear, and wisdom surfaced after a moment, but they were my own words, not Sully’s. I thought about what had happened on the Karn. Revealing he was a Kyi-Ragkiril would have jeopardized the mission at that point. Finally I nodded. But sooner or later, you have to trust someone. Especially if you’re asking her to trust you.
I’ve learned that. Don’t give up on me, angel-mine.
Don’t give me any more half-truths.
None.
Warmth filtered through me, lay softly against those painful tendrils gripping my heart.
We were almost through Yellow, Blue sector not far away. One more checkpoint and then the shuttle bay. I fell into my little time game, the one I’d played when we’d headed for the Diligent Keeper on Moabar Station. Ten minutes to freedom. Five minutes to freedom. Then I remembered it hadn’t brought me any luck. Though things this time did seem to be going better. However, I wasn’t ready to dub it, in Ren’s words, “a good day.”
We crossed into Blue. Three stripers waited, again, at the checkpoint. One female, two male. Philip went through the routine, turning on his charm to the appropriate gender. Turned on his authority and Guthrie heritage to the one male striper who took a bit too long with our ID.
Sully walked casually toward the scanner, smiled his own rakish smile at the woman. Reading, scanning, his eyes already darkening. Ready.
But it wasn’t needed. They let us pass.
The traffic in Blue secto
r was lighter. Dinnertime was over, people were back in their apartments or perched on a bar stool somewhere. The Loviti had a damned fine galley, as I remembered. I didn’t know what I wanted more: dinner or a long, hot shower.
Or a captaincy again? Philip’s words rolled through my mind.
“The next set of double doors are 7-Blue’s,” Philip said.
Where are Ren and Verno?
On their way. They opted for the freight lifts. Slower, but more Takan workers, less chance of Lazlo following them.
And Takas would defend their own.
Philip glanced at the pad as he keyed in his access code. “Shuttle’s in early. Good. I’ll feel one hell of a lot better once we’re back on board.” The doors slid open and he put his hand on my shoulder, guiding me through. “We’ll get cleaned up. You and I should have dinner. We have to talk about a lot of things.” His mouth tightened. “Something’s happening in the Empire, Chaz. I don’t like it.”
“And Burke’s behind it?” We were back to what he’d alluded to in Thad’s office.
“He, alone, doesn’t have that much power. That’s why all this doesn’t make sense. I have to talk to Tage again.” He squeezed my shoulder. “Actually, Burke’s move may be the proof I need.”
If Philip had been talking to First Barrister Darius Tage, then this was serious. Very serious.
“Later,” he said, again, when I looked up in question. “I’ll explain later.”
Sully followed us into the small airlock control room, open and unsealed now with a ship in the berth. Through the wide doorway the sleek form of an Imperial captain’s pinnace appeared almost suspended in the center of the cavernous, dimly lit bay. Behind her, outer-door guidance lights formed a half halo, casting eerie shadows through the ladders and maintenance rampways on the left and right. Boxy cargo stages for loading and unloading dotted the floor. The ship’s six wide landing struts and short rampway were darkened, telling me the pinnace had probably been in longer than we thought. I would’ve preferred a hot shuttle, with engines ready to go.
The corridor doors slid closed behind us. Philip leaned over the small ops panel, hit the intercom, opening the link to the bridge of the pinnace. “Tyler, Guthrie here.”
I let out a short sigh and stared at the pinnace and wide shuttle bay, seeing neither. I might well drop from exhaustion before we got to the Loviti.
Sully’s arm curved across on my shoulder. His breath ruffled against the top of my head. A rush of warmth curled through me. Demanding. Giving more.
“Tyler, this is Captain Guthrie.”
I heard Philip’s note of concern, but I couldn’t move away from Sully. Or from the warmth, the now relentless spirals of pleasure. His hand moved to my face, touched the line of my jaw. He brushed his thumb across my lips. I saw myself, for a moment, reflected in a mirror. Wearing an Englarian nun’s robe, my hair braided with a leather and silver beaded tie. And Sully, eyes smoldering, standing behind me, caressing my face.
Mine. All that I am is yours.
I never knew he’d said those words to me that night. I knew them from when we’d offered them to each other. Not in the monastery now called up in my memory. But in that place I called gray fuzzy soft. In the Kyi.
Mine. All that I am is yours.
Another memory washed over me. Sully’s memory. I saw a bulkhead before me; I felt only pain, fear, desolation. Then arms came around my waist, from behind me. Chasidah’s arms. Holding me, sending acceptance, forgiveness. For what I am. For what I had to do to Kingswell, to Tessa Paxton.
She didn’t understand, I hope to God she never understands what I do, what I am. To be damned by the darkness that lives inside me.
To be saved by her love.
No more half-truths. No more omissions. Sully was starting to show me all.
The abrupt sound of Philip’s hand slapping against the comm link jolted me. “Damn unit’s off-line.”
Sully’s hand slid down my arm, leaving a hazy feeling of warmth, love, trust.
“Problems?” Sully and I asked simultaneously.
“Comm link’s not functioning, again. I’ll go open the ramp hatch manually.” Philip strode through the wide opening toward the pinnace.
Something clicked three times behind me. Ren? But corridor doors click once on opening. Three clicks … I spun around. The status lights on the door to the corridor went from green to red. Locked. Someone had autolocked the doors.
The red went to red-flash. Airtight lock. Outer-bay doors were prepping to open, to let in the vacuum of space.
Sucking any living thing in the bay out. Dead. Lifeless.
I grabbed Sully. “Airtight’s active! Find overrides, shut it down! Don’t let those doors open!”
I didn’t wait for his response. I tore out of the control room, screaming Philip’s name.
35
Laser fire spit through the air. Philip dropped to the ground. I dove, hit the decking hard, Stinger out.
He flattened himself next to me, swearing because he was unarmed. “There!”
I fired at the telltale red point of light, heard the high whine of another laser pistol behind me. Sully, angled against the edge of a door panel in the brightly lit control room.
“Airtight’s on!” I sent a few more shots into the darkened bay. “Get back to the control room.”
Philip’s voice was a low rumble. “Room’s not sealed. That won’t help us.”
He was right. The wide door panels, large enough to permit cargo access, were still locked open. The edges of the doors, the single row of chairs, and the small ops desk provided little cover.
“Looks like someone wanted to remove that option,” he added. The rapid discharge of Sully’s laser pistol whined behind us. “They must have gotten to Tyler too.” His expression was grim. “Can we disable the outer doors?”
“Sully’s headed there.”
Laser fire sizzled a few feet from us. I answered with three shots back at the source. “How’d they find us?”
“My guess is this Lazlo had someone watching Thad’s office. Probably followed us, realized my pinnace was in. Put two and two together, got here first.”
Another barrage streaked in our direction. Much too close this time.
“Move!” Philip barked.
I sprang into a crouch, then bolted for a low ops console, Philip beside me.
“Been a while since we worked together like this.” He was breathing hard.
I automatically scanned left and right. “You always were one for night training.”
“It kept you close to me.” His hand wrapped around my upper arm. “On three. Break for that back wall. Lots of cover there.”
He squeezed my arm. “One. Two. Three.”
We ran in a semicrouch. Laser fire followed but fell short. It stopped when we reached the side wall.
I saw outlines of the familiar ladders, panels, more ops consoles jutting out. Large storage containers offered the best protection. I sidled behind one. Philip snugged up against me. We were both breathing hard now.
Then suddenly a scream, a woman’s voice, echoing in the bay.
“Sullivan! The unholy shall die!”
Philip’s eyes went wide.
“Berri Solaria,” I told him. Laser fire continued to whine through the bay. “Devout. And persistent.”
My eyes adjusted to the dim light. There was a wide rampway grating overhead, ladders, more ops consoles. More containers. Berri’s people couldn’t cross the center of the bay without being seen. And they couldn’t run along the outer doors, which were ringed by lights. But they could cross overhead on the maintenance rampways.
Philip’s gaze followed my own. “We’d hear anyone coming across there. Could get a clear shot at them. I don’t think they’re that stupid.”
It had been over five minutes since I’d run after Philip. He was right. Berri and her friends wanted us together in the center of the bay, walking to the ship, easy targets. Now we were in two different place
s. We needed to get back together, find a way out.
I turned. Philip’s mouth came down hard on mine, his arms locking around me. He kissed me with an intensity I’d forgotten, with all our arguments, our anger and hurt feelings. He kissed me with an intensity of a man who’d known my body, intimately, for eight years. And knew exactly how I liked to be kissed.
Laser fire whined again. I jerked back, shaken.
“Chaz. I’m sorry.” His voice rasped.
“Not here. Not now.” I ignored my unsteady emotions, pushed myself quickly to the edge of the cage, and tried to make out shapes in the shadows. My ears strained for footsteps, the rustle of fabric. But except for Philip’s harsh breathing and the pounding of my own heart, it was quiet again.
Too quiet.
Red target beams erupted into white streaks from the patches of darkness under the pinnace. I trained the Stinger on the lights. The underside of the ship flashed in more small bursts. I hit landing struts, scanner arrays. A cargo stage near the ship’s stern sparked. But not our attackers. They must have moved under the pinnace when Philip and I had run for the far wall.
More laser fire came now from my right, from far down the long bay wall, flaring against the pinnace’s hull. Sully. I caught a flurry of thought-pictures. Ren and Verno pulling back into the lifts just as two Crossley Burke security jogged past. Reinforcements. Lazlo was bringing in reinforcements.
Tell Ren to call Thad’s office. I sent Sully the link number and an emergency code.
He acknowledged, adding, Tell Lover Boy to keep his goddamned hands off my wife.
His label for me since Dock Five. To dissuade Ilsa, tease Dorsie. And now, no doubt, to irritate Philip.
Sully fired off another long burst toward the ship. Panel’s trashed. They’re not going to open the bay doors. They want those datatabs first. Badly. We must have stumbled on something very important.
Whatever it was, it was on its way to Drogue. Who’s with Berri?
Lazlo. And another male, name’s Talard. Feels like a professional shooter.
Three against three. I liked those odds.
Philip’s pilot. Tyler. Can you sense—
On the pinnace? Yes. Unconscious but alive.
Gabriel's Ghost Page 34
