by Natalie Grey
His wife snorted. “I got my suit upgraded. It deals with any chemicals I haven’t told it I’m going to be taking.”
“That’s a nice upgrade.” He wished she’d mentioned that. He was about to get the mother of all lectures, and he didn’t want to explain what was going on.
To his surprise, she didn’t yell. “Jeltor, in all our years together, you’ve never done anything like this. I can’t imagine you did this to hurt us. You must have thought we were in danger. What’s going on?”
Jeltor gave his children a worried look. They were still out cold. “Let’s talk in the cockpit.”
They closed the door behind them. Jeltor wondered where exactly he should begin.
“You remember when Barnabas called me?” he said finally.
“Yes.”
“Captain Huword—you remember him?—was murdered. On a Brakalon civilian transport in the middle of nowhere.”
“Jeltor.” She sounded sad. “I’m so sorry. I know you two were close.”
He fought a wave of bitterness. “We really weren’t,” he explained. “I thought we were, but we weren’t. It was good that I hadn’t seen him since everything started with the Yennai Corporation, because I might have been murdered instead.”
She fell silent, radiating surprise.
Jeltor swallowed and tried to find the words.
In the end, though, it was easier than he expected: “Huword was a traitor,” he said bluntly, “and I would have killed him myself if I’d had the chance.”
Chapter Twelve
Showered, changed, his stomach full of delicious food, and with a break in his case, Barnabas was in a much better mood when he went onto the bridge of the Shinigami a few hours later.
Unfortunately, he found himself in the middle of a heated argument between Shinigami and the administrator of Gerris station. Gar was sitting wide-eyed, apparently not trusting the outcome if he were to speak up, while Shinigami had taken to hissing human expletives in various non-English languages.
Tafa, who was seated in the pilot’s chair, swiveled around to give Barnabas a surprisingly cheerful nod. After a moment, Barnabas decided that meant everything was under control. Tafa had grown up as part of a family that executed anyone they didn’t like, so if she was fine with the situation, it was a good sign that the raised voices were just that—loud, nothing worse.
Barnabas decided to enjoy the show.
“Listen, afatottari,” Shinigami said sweetly, “cagati in mano e prenditi a schiaffi, si? I don’t care if ships can’t undock. That’s not what I’m trying to do.”
Gar leaned over. “What is she saying?”
“Well, I didn’t understand the first bit,” Barnabas admitted, “but I did understand the Italian and let’s just say it wasn’t very, err…hygienic, as suggestions go.”
“You are not understanding,” the station administrator said. He sounded quite harried at this point. “If you dock with us, I cannot verify that you will be able to undock. Several ships have tried and been severely damaged—and they have not managed to get clear of the station.”
Shinigami gave Barnabas a look. Stupid motherfucker.
Just lock down the station, you said. Barnabas was enjoying this. Simple, you said. I’ve already done it, you said.
Oh, sure, and I’m the one who hangs out too much with Tabitha. I think I liked it better when you had a stick up your ass.
I beg your pardon?
Hey, there it is again. She looked back at the screen. “How about this? We’re going to dock with your station. You can either allow us to do so at a docking port or we will find a place that looks promising and drill through the side of the station. And if you don’t like either of those two options, chupe mantequilla de mi culo.”
“We cannot allow you to dock!”
“Hijo de las mil putas.” Shinigami dropped her head into one hand.
“Hello,” Barnabas said pleasantly. “This is the captain of the Shinigami. May I presume I’m speaking to Westo Gor’rathi?”
“Yes.” By this point, the man seemed to have lost hope of leaving the conversation unscathed. Had he understood Shinigami, Barnabas suspected he’d have come to that conclusion much earlier.
Barnabas settled back in his chair. “I have on board an exceedingly talented network specialist who may be able to untangle whatever problem is presently occurring in your systems. In the meantime, I give you my word that neither I nor my affiliates will hold you responsible for any issues we may have relating to your present problems.”
The station administrator said nothing in response.
“What do you have to lose?” Barnabas asked reasonably. “So there will be one more crew on your station. A drop in the bucket. And there’s the chance we can fix your problem.”
There was a long pause.
“Fine,” the station manager said savagely. “Dock at Bay 78. And tell your first mate to hoje nad’razg hujkira.”
The line cut and Barnabas looked at Shinigami, who shrugged.
“If he wants to shock me, he’s going to have to try harder than that. Definitely passing that one on to Tabitha, though.”
“What did it mean? Actually, no, do not tell me—”
“Well, they have more orifices than we do—”
“I SAID, DON’T TELL ME.”
Had she remained holed up in her room, Kantar might not have heard about the two new ships. As it was, she heard people on the station threatening to start a riot and decided to investigate.
“It’s ridiculous!” a Torcellan female hissed at her companion. “We’ll run out of food soon, and they’re letting new ships dock?”
Kantar froze, her mind racing ahead.
“It could be supply ships,” the other one said reasonably.
“It was a frigate and a personal ship,” the first one shot back. “And one of them was Jotun, of all things—or at least, that’s what Yednamor said.”
Oh, no.
The second Torcellan didn’t look convinced, but Kantar was. She pushed her way through the crowd and tried not to break into a sprint. She couldn’t afford to be noteworthy, not now.
But if they were here, it was only a matter of time until they came for her, wasn’t it?
She knew what she had to do.
They emerged into chaos. Gar, still habitually inclined to stay away from unpredictable crowds, froze in the doorway of the ship and wouldn’t move until Tafa took his hand and led him into the landing bay, murmuring soothingly.
“Awww,” Shinigami said quietly to Barnabas.
He nodded in agreement. He still wasn’t quite sure what had prompted him to offer Tafa a spot on his ship, and he suspected that most of it was nothing more than sentiment. When he’d found her, she’d been a hostage with Jeltor. She’d stopped believing that the universe was a place where good things happened. She had no skill in combat, nor did she have any desire to learn.
In short, she was hardly a logical addition to a Ranger’s crew. She’d been useful, however, showing a talent for a surprising range of things from data manipulation to piloting. When Barnabas had returned to Helen’s workshop on Station 7 he’d found Tafa wedged into the compartment with the human mechanic, learning about the Shinigami’s internal workings and fixing a hose under Helen’s watchful eye.
And there were things like this, too—Tafa talking things over with her shipmates and, in general, making the ship a nicer place to be.
Barnabas hoped she stayed around. Truly good people, in his opinion, were few and far between. When you found one, you hung onto them as long as you could.
“Barnabas!” Jeltor came clanking around the edge of the doorway. “I just saw Tafa and Gar. They said they’re going to find some juice. Do they mean batteries?”
“No, they mean that Barnabas has an unfortunate addiction.” Shinigami tried to roll her eyes but didn’t quite have the trick of it yet. It looked truly frightening.
“Where do you want to speak?” Barnabas asked when Jelto
r looked confused.
“Ah. On your ship, if possible.” Jeltor looked around. “Anyone here could be listening in.” He hesitated. “And may I bring my family aboard? I have them in crates so no one will see them on the security feeds. I brought them with me since I was scared of what might happen if I left them.”
“Of course.” Barnabas nodded at Shinigami, who went off to make the arrangements. His heart gave a pang. “I’m sorry you’ve been so worried. I promise we won’t let anyone hurt your family. And if you doubt me,” he added, trying to make Jeltor smile, “remember that we took down a whole fleet together.”
“Right.” Jeltor didn’t sound convinced, but he allowed himself to be led onto the Shinigami, and it was only a few minutes before they heard the clanking sounds that indicated that his family was aboard.
Shinigami joined them as a hologram a moment later. “I set them up in one of the guest suites,” she explained.
“Thank you, Shinigami.” Barnabas sat in one of the chairs of the main lounge area and nodded at Jeltor to speak. “You said you found something important.”
“I did.” Jeltor’s biosuit twitched several times as though he were giving it tiny involuntary commands. Certainly, his actual body was twitching rapidly in the central tank.
That’s creepy, Shinigami commented.
You know, I’d say you’re being rude, but…I have to agree. Barnabas tried not to grimace.
Unaware of their discussion, Jeltor was struggling to find words. “I was wrong about everything I told you about Huword. I told you he didn’t have any enemies and that he was good-natured and trustworthy, and none of that was true.”
Barnabas tilted his head to the side, waiting.
“I can’t prove this,” Jeltor continued. “He covered his tracks well. But trust me when I say I know it’s true. Even if I can’t prove it, it all makes sense—he was working with the Senate. He’s been collecting information on all of us for years, and he was just waiting for an opportunity to get ahead by using it. I can’t even imagine what else he’s done with it, but I know he betrayed some of the admirals. They’re in front of the Senate for charges that don’t sound very bad, but their careers will be gone, and they’ll be ruined. And Huword was the one passing them information about the Navy’s technology…which they gave to Yennai, of course.”
Barnabas blew out a breath. “You know, I wondered if that might be it.” Too bad I didn’t make you put something on that bet.
Are you kidding? He doesn’t have any proof. You still owe me shoes.
I said this was what he was here to tell us, and it was. No shoes.
Ugh.
“You didn’t tell me?” Jeltor sounded frustrated. “You knew, and you didn’t tell me?”
“I didn’t suspect until after you were already on your way here, and I didn’t want to say anything in case I was wrong. But with both of us arriving at this conclusion independently, I’d say it’s likely we’re onto something. It certainly helps the various pieces of this debacle make a bit more sense.”
“Such as?” Jeltor looked confused.
“Well, there was the Jotun ship that was shooting down anyone who approached, but they didn’t seem to be working with the assassin. They probably weren’t. They were sent by the Senate, and they were trying to keep people away from the Srisa until the Senate’s cleanup crew could arrive. Speaking of which,” Barnabas frowned “I sent a message to the Srisa while we were on our way here but haven’t heard back.”
He, Shinigami, and Jeltor looked at one another, worried.
“I should never have left them there,” Barnabas said quietly.
“You couldn’t have known,” Shinigami told him soothingly.
“As soon as I suspected this was between the Navy and the Senate, I should have assumed someone would treat that ship as a whole set of loose ends.”
“No, and here’s why.” Shinigami locked eyes with him. “They had a ship there blocking access, but it hadn’t shot the Srisa down. They had chances to destroy it, and they didn’t. And the fact is, maybe the Srisa got cleared to make port somewhere. There’s no way to know.”
“Right.” Barnabas nodded. “Yes. Right.” His thoughts were still racing, but he could hope she was correct.
“So what do we do?” Jeltor asked them. He shook his head. “I don’t understand any of this. No one spoke to me of it, so whoever found out what he was up to didn’t set out to make an example of him. I spoke to some of the other captains who were part of the mutiny, and they’re all as shocked as I was. None of them so much as suggested that he deserved it, and trust me, if they knew what he’d done, someone would have told me.”
“That’s interesting,” Barnabas commented. “No one’s making a big deal of this. I feel like it should be all over the news, and both the Senate and the Navy should be making statements.”
“They are, but there isn’t any sort of…positioning.” Jeltor shook his head.
“Well, whoever he was and whatever he was up to, he was in deep.” Barnabas shook his head. “And I’m guessing that the closer we look, the worse stuff we’re going to find.”
“I don’t even want to think about it.” Jeltor sounded worried.
“I hate to interrupt,” Shinigami said, “but we have a situation.”
“What?” Barnabas was on his feet in a moment.
“That assassin on the Srisa? She’s here, and she’s trying to get onto the ship.”
Barnabas took off for the doorway.
“Don’t you want armor?” Shinigami’s voice projected from several speakers at once.
“I’m not going to fight her,” Barnabas called back. “She’s the one who understands all of what’s going on!”
“Yeah, are you sure she knows you’re on her side? Because she’s armed to the teeth.”
“I’ll be able to explain,” Barnabas said, annoyed. “Open the doors.”
Shinigami had been right to worry, however, because as soon as the doors slid open and the assassin saw him running toward her, she only hesitated for a moment. She whipped a rifle down from over her head, aimed, and fired.
Chapter Thirteen
“Whoa!”
The assassin’s biosuit was fast, but Barnabas’ reactions were honed to a higher standard than the average organic life form. He threw himself sideways with a yell and collided with the wall while the bullet zoomed past him to embed itself in the back wall of the hallway behind him.
Hey! Shinigami yelled. Get off my spaceship with that shit! She flickered into being with a murderous expression on her face and Baba Yaga’s blood-red eyes. One hand, tipped with claws, came up into the air. “You want to play?” she asked the assassin. “Let’s play.”
The assassin, seeing what appeared to be a vicious subspecies of human where there hadn’t been one before and Barnabas sans bullet holes, took off like a shot.
“Not helpful, Shinigami!” Barnabas raced after her with a sigh.
Eh, you’ll catch her.
As touching as your confidence is, it would be more touching if it didn’t require heroics on my part. We now have a scared and highly capable assassin on a station full of civilians.
Mmm. I’m sure you’ll think of something.
Barnabas shook his head and put everything he had into running. Since he had turned, he’d been stronger and faster than the average human, and Bethany Anne’s well-tailored upgrades had made his body even better. He was, in essence, his perfect self, as well as having numerous other capabilities that did not, as John sometimes put it, come with the standard human package.
However, Barnabas was still human, and he had all the tiny imperfections that came along with that. Small variances between his left and right leg might cause tiny hitches in his stride, slowing him down. Pain might hamper him.
The Jotun assassin had none of that, and her speed was impressive. Pretty much the only saving grace for Barnabas was that she couldn’t get up to any dangerous speeds when she kept having to dodge people
and take corners.
At least she was dodging people, not pushing them out of the way or trying to take them hostage. That was a heartening sign.
“Stop!” Barnabas called. “We’re on the same side!”
See, that’s good. I knew you’d think of something.
It hasn’t worked yet, Barnabas pointed out, and I told the station administrator that we wouldn’t cause any trouble.
I think you knew that was bullshit when you said it.
I admit nothing. Barnabas hurdled a small stand of vegetables and detoured down a side hallway after the assassin. “Please, stop! I know why you did it!”
The assassin looked over her shoulder at that, but whatever she saw did not reassure her. She kept running, making for the balcony that overlooked the main markets, and before Barnabas could stop her, she leaped lightly onto the railing and jumped up to grab of the next floor’s railing. She hauled herself up and was gone.
Oh, hell no, Barnabas muttered internally. You are not getting away that easily. Shinigami—
Yeah, yeah, I’m tracking her. She’s waiting to see if you climb up, I have her on the station’s security cameras.
All right. Barnabas climbed up to stand on the railing and braced himself using the ceiling. “My name is Barnabas,” he called. “I expect you know that. I mean you no harm.”
She’s getting her gun out again.
Delightful. Barnabas raised his voice. “I am following you at the behest of Captain Jeltor, who is presently on my ship.”
That got her attention. She’s getting closer to listen. She really does have the trick of moving like a biological life form.
“We originally believed Captain Huword’s assassination to be the work of the Senate,” Barnabas said, “but I think now, perhaps, that it was someone in the Navy who had him killed. And I think I know why. Huword wasn’t who he appeared to be, was he? He was everyone’s friend, Jeltor said. I should have known that wasn’t possible. He wasn’t anyone’s friend. He was the person who listened to all their secrets and then sold them out.”
