by P. K. Lentz
>>ACCEPTABLE. BUT I WARN YOU: YOUR VESSEL WILL NOT SURVIVE HOSTILE ACTION. COOPERATE, AND CONTROL WILL BE RETURNED.
At this, the previously unresponsive hatch slid open. Gareth sailed through first, rifle trailing behind him on its sling.
***
Some minutes later Gareth and Aprile walked the corridor on approach to the hijacked medlounge. Aprile marched in front with weapon ready.
“You’d better shoulder that thing,” Gareth advised her. “I don’t want any misunderstandings.”
With a scowl and show of uncertainty, she complied. As they drew within two meters of the open medlounge door Gareth made to take the lead--only to be blocked by Aprile’s outthrust arm. Her grave, insistent look left him little choice but to trust her and yield.
The gesture quickly proved irrelevant.
“You may as well just come in,” a voice called in Commonwealth Standard from inside the lounge.
Gareth pushed past a tense Aprile and stepped up to the door. He moved cautiously, despite being resigned to the fact that they were at this intruder’s mercy.
Inside the medlounge, the SES assassin stood facing the open hatch. He was only slightly taller and broader than Gareth but easily ten times more imposing. Perhaps it was the sense he managed to convey of being ready to strike at any moment despite standing stock still with hands clasped behind his back. The jet-black eyepieces, which doubtless served some function other than shade, added no doubt deliberately to his aura of menace.
Behind the assassin, Zerouali lay in her cot with wrists cuffed above her head. She seemed unharmed. In fact her expression conveyed more aggravation than fear. Gareth made brief eye contact but opted not to let his gaze linger on her. If Fyat sensed any concern for the hostage’s welfare, he might use it to his advantage.
“I think we have much to offer one another, Captain,” the killer said. His voice fit his dark, steely face.
Gareth had plenty of things he felt like saying to this filth, but Coleridge’s warning and a modicum of common sense told him to keep it simple, if not cordial. “What is it you want?”
“An arrangement in our mutual interest.”
Gareth scoffed, quickly forgetting his decision to play it cool. “That’s a strange way to refer to the theft of my ship.”
“These are strange times. If my intent were to liquidate your crew and apprehend this criminal--” With a slight movement of his head he indicated Zerouali. “--I would have done so already. That I haven’t should be enough to inspire a degree of trust.”
Gareth shook his head. “Leave it to the Interim to kick you in the balls and tell you it’s for your own good. I’ve made deals with your kind before. They don’t last.”
He quickly regretted the far too revealing comment. Words were coming instinctively despite his intention to handle the situation with more tact. He had kept his secret for centuries and couldn’t afford to start slipping now, when it mattered most.
“Had you met my kind before,” came Fyat’s answer, “it’s unlikely you’d be breathing right now. And if you wish to continue breathing you’d be wise to hear my offer, since once you’re caught harboring this fugitive you’ll find yourselves with far fewer choices.”
“That sounds more like an ultimatum than an offer,” Aprile interjected. Gareth cautioned her with a wave.
“Call it what you will,” Fyat came back calmly. “A partnership, if you like, until we are safely away from this system or fail in the attempt.”
“What’s the catch?” Gareth asked. “Aprile is right, it sounds like an ultimatum. There must be a price if we refuse.”
“I took some liberties with your ship. If I sustain damage, lose consciousness or go out of range, none of you will live to regret betraying me.”
“I fail to see how we benefit.”
“You don’t stand a chance of passing inspection with the fugitive aboard. In light of her presence, you’re lucky I showed up.”
The fugitive under discussion chose this moment to break her silence. “I am a human being, you know,” Zerouali said irritably. “Not cargo. Is keeping me tied up part of your plan? It might look like fun, but it’s really quite uncomfortable.”
Without turning his head the assassin raised one arm to point a palm-sized device in Zerouali’s direction. Before Gareth had time to panic, a burst of sparks erupted over her head. Zerouali cringed but made no sound. A second later she sat rubbing her freed wrists as a lick of black smoke curled up from the bedframe above her.
Gareth released held breath, relieved that Fyat hadn’t chosen to ‘liquidate’ his prey on the spot. The brief fright served to reinforce lessons that should not have needed reinforcing: tread lightly, take nothing for granted. Especially not now.
To one side of Gareth, Aprile stood with her rifle half-raised. She had not been quick enough to level it before Fyat had turned his own weapon upon her. The assassin’s free arm remained casually behind his back, giving the impression he had scarcely moved. He might well have planned the whole scene as some sort of demonstration.
“Aprile, put your weapon down,” Gareth instructed. “It’ll do us no good now.” Slowly he unslung his own rifle and set it on the floor. But it took another sharp glance to convince Aprile to follow suit. Then he addressed Fyat. “Alright, partner,” he said with arms spread wide in surrender. “What say you turn my ship back over to me and we discuss details?”
Though Fyat lowered his weapon, he did not relax one iota, if indeed he was capable of doing so. “I will return basic controls momentarily,” he said. “But first I warn you and your crew to make no effort to override my alterations to the system. Tampering will activate failsafes. Second, I’ll retain sole access to communication arrays. There will be no external transmissions except through me. This is for your own good.”
“I suppose you get to keep my ship when this is over, too.”
Fyat’s answering stare reinforced still another unneeded lesson for Gareth: the Interim has no sense of humor. It made him resolve yet again to stifle his automatic reactions and start playing this game much smarter. To think with his head, as Aprile had put it.
Striding forward, the assassin forced Gareth and Aprile to make way. He brushed past them on approach to the room’s access panel. More accurately he approached the hole in the bulkhead that until recently been an access panel.
“I’m adding stronger encryption to your comms,” Fyat said, kneeling to resume his surgery on the panel’s innards. “They won’t be one-hundred percent secure, but we will be able to use them for non-critical traffic with low risk of compromise.”
Suddenly Gareth found himself uncertain exactly what to feel--indignant rage at such a violation of his freedom or guilty relief that someone who seemed to know what he was doing had finally taken charge.
A glance at Aprile’s expression proved she was strongly inclined toward the former.
“Listen, Fyat--” Gareth started.
“Never use my name!”
“I won’t call you at all, if I can help it. But I don’t think this discussion is over. We need to clarify a few things.”
Fyat did not even pause in his work. “Later,” he said. “I’ll brief you in one hour.”
“You’ll brief us, huh? That’s comforting. In the meantime, what about control of my ship?”
“You have it now, with the limitation I described. No external comm.”
With that the assassin resumed ignoring them, his back turned as if in a deliberate message that he considered none of them the slightest threat. No doubt he was right; they were powerless aboard their own ship. On the bright side, though, maybe this creep really could get Lady safely out-system.
While Gareth wondered what to do next, Zerouali passed him en route to the exit.
“Are you alright?” he asked, a rather belated courtesy.
Zerouali only nodded, not stopping. Gareth couldn’t guess where she might be headed considering that this lounge and the conference room were al
l she had yet seen of Lady.
When Aprile also made for the door, Gareth reluctantly followed. Fyat took no apparent notice of any of them.
Once out in the corridor, the two women started purposefully in opposite directions.
“Where you headed?” Gareth called first after Aprile. The navigator slowed and turned her head, but offered only a raised brow in response.
Right. It was no longer safe to talk. Aprile resumed her stride, leaving Gareth to chase after Zerouali.
“Any idea where you’re going?” he asked as he caught up.
“Not really,” she answered. “You?”
Other than this mildly agitated reply, the woman seemed unmindful of Gareth’s presence a step behind her. She didn’t let it stop her aimless march down the corridor.
Her pace only slowed as they approached the T-intersection at its end. There she turned abruptly left and started ‘up’ one of the curving concentric paths that marked the hab module’s aft endcap.
“Doctor,” Gareth called to her. “I think it’s better you stay put for now. I’ll clean out the guest quarters for you.”
This stopped Zerouali, but she didn’t turn back to face Gareth. “Guest,” she echoed. “I’m tired of being a guest.”
Here, at last, Gareth thought, was a glimpse of emotion. The rare display made him almost feel he could talk to the woman.
“Would you rather Fyat killed you?” he ventured.
Zerouali shrugged--or maybe she didn’t. All her expressions were almost more implied than real.
Seeming to give up now on her aimless walk, she took a few steps back toward Gareth. “At least that would be an end point,” she said, already calmer. “But no, I’m not suicidal yet.”
“Where would you be now if you weren’t running?” Gareth asked.
“Paradise,” Zerouali said simply. “A heavily guarded one, but paradise nonetheless.”
“A prison is a prison,” Gareth offered. “Once we get out-system, maybe we’ll find a place where you can stop running.”
Even as Zerouali nodded, her features reverted to their usual opacity. Whatever guard she might have momentarily let down slammed abruptly back into place.
“You’re wrong to risk the safety of your passengers for me,” she said stoically.
“I’m afraid neither of us has much say in that matter anymore.”
Gareth hadn’t intended the comment for Fyat’s omnipresent ears, but it suited that purpose just fine. Best that Fyat believed Lady’s captain to have admitted defeat. Maybe that wasn’t far from the truth. It was hard to tell. Everything had happened too fast. He needed time to think.
Together the two started back in the direction from which they’d come.
“I want to turn myself in,” Zerouali announced abruptly.
Gareth studied her expressionless face, searching it for cracks. None appeared.
“I don’t think I could let you do that.”
Her dark eyes probed, penetrated him. “You’re reckless, Captain,” she said at length. “That, or you have ghosts of your own. Either one can be deadly.”
Gareth declined to reply. Aprile had been right moments ago, as she had been quite often of late. It hammered home one last lesson: Just shut your mouth until further notice.
***
CHAPTER TEN
Gareth sat in the medlounge as Fyat outlined his plans to three of the four individuals aboard Lady of Chaos who were aware of his existence. The fourth, Coleridge, remained sealed up in the cargo hold. Not long ago Gareth had commed the remainder of Lady’s crew with a simple apology for the system lockout Fyat had caused and a pledge to explain more later. If he was to be forced to lie to them again--not an appealing prospect--he would need to get his story straight first. That story would largely depend on what Fyat had to say now.
“Our best course,” the assassin began, “would involve turning over the fugitive.” Tellingly, Fyat did not use Zerouali’s name. “But taking for granted you’d reject this, Captain, in the spirit of cooperation I’m willing to entertain another possibility.”
Gareth stifled a scowl. The killer’s assumption regarding Zerouali all but proved he’d been eavesdropping.
“Plan B is as follows,” Fyat went on. “The fugitive and my damaged associate will take a flyer into this system’s asteroid belt, where they will enter hibernation. Your ship will wait out the quarantine then undergo inspection and leave the system as planned. We can return for the two women roughly nine ship-years from now, according to my initial estimate.”
Gareth glanced at Zerouali in search of some reaction. Predictably, he found none.
“I don’t like it,” Gareth objected on her behalf.
“It’s non-negotiable. The primary obstacle will be launching a flyer undetected now that the EM interference has cleared. To this end I am reasonably confident that given some time on your sensor suites I can calculate a launch window that evades all of Fleet’s spysats.”
“What about you?” Aprile asked with evident skepticism. “How do we pass inspection with you aboard?”
“I’ll handle that. You and your crew, however, will be interrogated by people who will know instantly if you are lying.”
“And?” Gareth asked.
“Naturally it is not listed in your manifests, but I presume you have Saerix somewhere in your holds.” Fyat followed the accusation by listing several other common names for the illicit substance.
Scoffing, Gareth offered no reply.
“I’ll take that as an affirmative,” Fyat said. “Saerix will dull your physiological reactions enough to make the examiners’ results inconclusive. I recommend a fairly high dosage for those with direct knowledge of the fugitive or myself, lighter ones for the rest of your personnel. An entire commercial spacer crew addicted to Saerix would hardly be surprising to Fleet. At least half of your kind are addicts.”
Illegal on just about every world where there was law, Saerix was gram-for-gram the most valuable cargo a vessel could carry. So, naturally, Lady had some.
Forgoing the pointless denials, Gareth argued, “I don’t much like the idea of dulling my senses at a time like this.”
“You have no choice. Otherwise they will know you are lying before you ever open your mouth. Even if the inspection turned up nothing, you and your crew would be detained and sentenced. No. You will have your medic administer doses to yourself and your navigator, after which I will simulate an interrogation. We’ll practice until you get it right.”
“Like hell we will!”
Gareth cringed at this protest from Aprile. He shut his eyes and willed her back to silence. There was little doubt that Fyat considered her expendable--and might even be happy to make an example of her.
“I think what she means...” Gareth interjected, at the same time silencing Aprile with a sharp glare, “is that--”
“What I mean,” Aprile pressed on, heedless of the danger, “is that you’re not putting any of that shit into me, period!”
Aprile’s refusal was understandable not only as a matter of principle, but also due to the fact that she had never used Saerix. Gareth himself had taken it now and then but was certainly no addict. In fact, he’d been forced to dismiss addicts from his crews in the past. Saerix was potent stuff which over time could all but liquefy an otherwise functional brain.
From the look she gave Gareth now, Aprile might have been ready to mutiny. Too bad. Keeping her good graces right now mattered less than preventing her senseless death. A brief staring match ended with the navigator’s reluctant surrender.
“Could she go into hibe instead?” Gareth asked the assassin hopefully.
“As senior crew she would be revived and interrogated anyway.”
Gareth sighed. Avoiding Aprile’s eyes he gave the assassin a sober nod, accepting his plan.
“Of course,” Fyat added, “our efforts hinge on the assumption that this vessel is not already under suspicion. I am prepared to make such an assumption based on two
facts. The first is that to my knowledge this was not the case at the time I lost contact with my superiors. The second is that you have not yet been forcibly boarded, nor presented with an ultimatum. If I am wrong, however, and Fleet does already suspect the fugitive’s presence, this ship will never leave Merada no matter what we do.”
“Outstanding,” Gareth said dully, feeling more and more defeated by the moment. “Any more good news?”
“You may use your comms freely for general traffic, but nothing sensitive. I will head to the bridge now to plot a launch window and course for the flyer.” He gestured expressionlessly at Aprile. “You might be useful. Follow me.”
Gareth thought he heard Aprile growl, but this was almost surely his imagination. On her way to the door Gareth managed to catch her eye and silently urge compliance. Her unspoken reply was less than respectful.
She stooped near him to retrieve her discarded rifle, treating him as she did to an icy glare.
“If we get through this,” Gareth whispered to her, “consider your stake in Lady doubled.”
“Triple it and we’ll talk.” With that Aprile trailed out of the room after Fyat, leaving Gareth once more alone with Zerouali.
“She’s not happy,” Zerouali observed halfheartedly.
“She’ll get over it. I’d trust her with my life a thousand times over.”
“And Fyat?”
Beneath the unfamiliar burden of awareness that his every word might be monitored, Gareth hesitated. “Not for a second,” he said eventually. “He’s in this for himself. We can only wait and stay alert.”
Zerouali nodded, seeming not terribly interested. “I’m sure you have duties, Captain. Don’t let me keep you.”
Indeed he did have duties, none of them pleasant.
“I’d better explain all this to my crew,” he said, more to himself than Zerouali. “I hate lying to them, but if they’ll be questioned then I suppose the less they know the better.”
“You were prepared to lie to them about me.”
Gareth made for the exit. “You’re old news,” he said. “We’re in a whole new world of lies now.”
Zerouali rose from her seat, presumably to return to the guest quarters that Gareth had cleared for her now that Mela was safely stashed away in hibe. Gareth noticed a glaze in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. As much as he didn’t care for Zerouali’s personality, he couldn’t help but feel for her right now. Nine years adrift in hibe waiting on someone to scoop you up was enough to scare even a lifetime spacer.
