A Night Without Stars

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A Night Without Stars Page 28

by Peter F. Hamilton


  ‘We are?’

  ‘Buddy, they got troopers and sheriffs crawling the ground like a bussalore apocalypse. They even had them a helicopter buzzing about yesterday, so sure as Uracus shits, they’ll use it again today. Now there’s a lot of open land between here and Opole; if they see us, we are royally screwed. I can get us past the usual sheriff patrols, but this . . . Let’s just say my bragging rights are going to skyrocket if I zip us on through this one without getting burned.’

  Waiting should have bothered Florian, but he found it oddly reassuring; Lukan clearly knew what he was doing. He used the time to finish sewing the dress together. When he put it on Essie, she smiled happily. ‘Pretty.’ She toddled over to show Teal, not nearly as unsteady on her feet as she had been back in Joffler’s house. ‘Dada—’

  ‘Yes! I know. Hungry.’ He pulled some of the food from the backpack.

  Lukan used the time to fix big extension tubing to the exhaust pipes (which were pretty large already). ‘It’ll reduce our power a fraction,’ he said as he started threading the bolts on the first one. ‘But we’re not going to be counting on speed tonight. I need quiet for this, and my Sandy-J, she’s not a modest girl.’

  So Florian spent half the afternoon lying on his back on the cold hard rock, holding the big cylinders in place while Lukan made various connections, and added support brackets. When they finished, the old Coperearl looked like it had a pair of rocket engines screwed on the back.

  Essie drank down more richmilk, and ate all the fruit Florian had brought. Then she curled up on his kaftan and went to sleep. He watched her in the light of the oil lamp. She must have been at least twice as big as she was when he lifted her out of the Commonwealth machine – in fact, the dress was almost too small already. He could see her eyes moving constantly beneath her eyelids – REM sleep, his medical files called it. She whimpered a lot, which he found distressing. She was such a wonderful little girl; she didn’t deserve any kind of suffering.

  *

  After the mobile command centre had driven to the riverside where the boat had been abandoned, Chaing and Hokianga had spent most of the night planning the next day’s urban sweep. They identified four villages and towns where Florian could have gone ashore and set the boat adrift. The roadblocks around them were immediately strengthened, with nothing allowed in or out. Troops were assigned and moved into position, their officers and NCOs briefed, a mimeographed photo of Florian (taken seven years ago for his valley warden service application form) distributed.

  They moved in just after dawn. Terrain Trucks dropped off their squads, then drove round the streets with loudspeakers blaring, officially declaring the nest alert and ordering everyone to remain inside. The squads started moving from home to home.

  It was one of the grocery store assistants that identified Florian, and confirmed he had a small child with him. The corporal in charge of the squad immediately radioed it in.

  Chaing arrived in Letroy eleven minutes later, the Terrain Truck bouncing along the narrow tracks that wound between the weird rock outcrops. By then, the captain in charge of that sector had confirmed Florian was accompanied by a local citizen called Joffler.

  Joffler’s rock home was surrounded by a ring of troops, using the scattered boulders and lush vegetation to deploy without being seen. Heavy machine guns were set up, and trained on the openings in the outcrop, most of which were covered by curtains or shutters.

  Chaing and Jenifa led two squads of troopers along the spiral path that wound up to the entrance of Joffler’s home. He was confronted by iron railings with a locked gate, so he nodded to the engineer, who came forwards and jammed a small explosive pack onto the lock.

  ‘Remember: he has to be taken alive,’ he told the troopers – though it was more of a warning.

  The charge blew the lock, and troopers rushed in, carbines held ready.

  ‘Bedroom, sir,’ called Kavris, the captain in charge of the assault. ‘Two hostiles.’

  Troopers were ripping the home’s fittings apart as Chaing walked along the curving stone passage that linked all the chambers. The bedroom was clogged with a thick smell – narnik smoke, and something like ammonia. The place was a tip. The big bed’s sheets obviously hadn’t been washed for a long time, and clothes spilled out from chests and a couple of hefty wardrobes.

  A man and a woman were on their knees beside the bed, hands behind their necks with fingers linked. Three troopers stood beside them, carbines pressing into their necks while Kavris watched them, his expression one of disgusted contempt.

  ‘Name of the woman?’ Chaing snapped.

  She was naked and clearly heavily stoned, judging by the way she was swaying about and humming under her breath. Her long green hair had dozens of ribbons woven in, which helped to curtain her body.

  ‘She hasn’t spoken,’ Kavris said. ‘Crudding narnik addict.’

  ‘She’s Rohanna,’ Joffler said, looking up.

  Chaing backhanded him with his good arm and he yelped in shock.

  ‘Speak only when you’re spoken to, is that clear?’ Chaing said coldly.

  A badly frightened Joffler nodded quickly.

  The humming from Rohanna grew louder. Her eyes were squeezed shut.

  ‘Check her,’ Chaing told Jenifa.

  Rohanna squealed as Jenifa stuck a needle in her arm. A drop of red blood welled up.

  ‘Human,’ Jenifa concluded.

  Tears trickled down Rohanna’s cheeks.

  ‘You,’ Chaing told Joffler. ‘Arm out.’ He jabbed a needle into the fleshy part of the man’s upper arm. Red blood.

  ‘Where’s Florian?’

  ‘He’s not a Faller!’ Joffler exclaimed.

  Chaing paused, allowing Joffler to register his disappointed expression. The man was clearly going to need some hard facts explaining to him.

  But before Chaing registered what was happening, Jenifa stepped forwards and kicked Joffler in the groin. Joffler screamed, collapsing onto the rug, curling up, hands clutching desperately at his testicles. Jenifa grinned, watching keenly.

  Chaing turned to her and mouthed: ‘What?’

  Rohanna wailed and started rocking back and forth. ‘The Skylords will come. The Skylords will come,’ she chanted. ‘My soul is pure, my soul is pure—’

  ‘Get her out of here,’ Chaing told the troopers.

  They dragged the young woman away.

  ‘Bad cop,’ Jenifa said in a quiet voice to Chaing. Then she crouched down beside Joffler, studying the man’s agonized expression. Seeing the fear. ‘I’m not interested in your smartmouth opinions. The only thing I want to hear from you is answers to my questions. Next time you say something wrong to me, I will have these boys hold you down with your legs apart and I’ll keep kicking your balls until I’ve ruined you.’

  ‘Oh Giu, help me,’ Joffler sobbed.

  ‘Enough!’ Chaing said. He took her by the shoulder and pulled her away. ‘This is my operation.’

  ‘Fine. You ask, then. But he won’t tell you crud. I’ve seen his type before. They’re tough. They need to be softened up.’

  ‘I don’t!’ Joffler wailed. ‘I’ll tell you whatever you want to know. Just don’t . . .’

  ‘All right,’ Chaing said. He pointed at Jenifa. ‘You wait there.’

  ‘You’re going to need me,’ she said angrily.

  ‘Maybe, maybe not.’ He knelt beside a snivelling Joffler. ‘I’m going to give you one chance. Where. Is. Florian?’

  ‘He left this morning with Lukan.’

  ‘Okay, good. And who is Lukan?’

  ‘Driver. He takes my cargo to the city.’

  ‘You mean Opole?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So you’re a nasty little criminal drug dealer?’

  ‘Yes, I am.’

  ‘How do you know Florian?’

  ‘It was set up by Billop. Florian brought the waltans he trapped to me and I’d ship them back to the city. We’d meet at the Wymondon store every month for the
handover.’

  ‘Florian supplies you with waltans?’ Chaing tried to keep the surprise from his voice.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How long has he been doing that for?’

  ‘Seven years. Ever since he started at Albina valley.’

  ‘Okay, so you bring the waltans back here, and Lukan takes them on to this Billop person?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Are you an Eliter, Joffler?’

  ‘No! Crud, no. I swear it, no.’

  ‘What was Florian doing here? What did he tell you had happened?’

  ‘It was some girl he’d got pregnant or something. She dumped the baby on him. He wanted to get to the city. He’s got family there who’d look after him for the month. After that he’d be back.’

  ‘A month? He was only going for a month?’

  ‘Yes, he said it would be over by then.’

  ‘What would be over?’

  ‘I don’t know. Just: over.’

  ‘Was someone coming to collect the baby from him?’

  ‘He never said. I thought he meant she’d be dead by then.’

  ‘Now why would you think that?’

  ‘Because she was ill. Cancer, I guess. There was this tumour thing on her head. It looked awful.’

  ‘So the baby was sick?’

  ‘Well, it was seriously weird, you know?’

  ‘No, I don’t know! Tell me.’

  ‘It was like she was growing up too fast. I mean, she could walk when they left, and she couldn’t when Florian arrived. I don’t know crud about babies, but I’m telling you that one wasn’t right. She ate more than I do, and grew like a beanstalk. It kind of creeped me out, really. I didn’t tell Florian that.’

  Chaing stood up and turned to Jenifa. ‘A fast-growing baby,’ he said in amazement.

  ‘If she grows that quickly,’ Jenifa said slowly, ‘then in a month . . .’

  ‘She’ll be an adult.’ Great Giu! A Commonwealth adult, with all their capabilities. He closed his eyes and saw her again, the Warrior Angel, her phenomenal invisible weapons wiping out an entire nest without any effort.

  ‘What does Lukan drive?’ he asked Joffler.

  ‘It’s an old Coperearl. But he rebuilt it for speed.’

  ‘I’m sure he did. Where was it parked?’

  ‘He didn’t tell me. He never does.’

  ‘Smart man.’

  *

  ‘Don’t do that again,’ Chaing said as they hurried down the slope below Joffler’s house. ‘Not without consulting me first.’

  ‘Why?’ Jenifa said cheerfully. ‘We’re PSR, we’re not weak or squeamish. I’m not, and now we know where he’s going, who’s taking him, and how they’re travelling.’

  ‘Direct application of pain is only useful when the subject is determined to hold out. Joffler was never one of those.’

  ‘You misread Florian,’ she countered.

  ‘Maybe. Once. I know him now.’

  ‘Good cop, bad cop got you a fast result, didn’t it? We have a description of Lukan’s Coperearl. No way he’ll ever get past our roadblocks; he’s only got an hour’s head start, if that.’

  ‘I hope you’re right.’ He glanced over at her, as always misled by her stature and young looks. It wasn’t just the strength she’d used when she kicked Joffler, it was the pleasure he’d seen animating her at the man’s pain. He’d been shocked. Yes, good cop, bad cop was still an effective interrogation technique – and he’d got the right information. But they hadn’t discussed it before; she’d just taken the lead. That wasn’t good. Weakening the interrogation subject psychologically, the fear of the threat, was always more effective than any physical pain – so he thought. More efficient.

  ‘My problem is that we’re back to apparent coincidences again,’ he told her. ‘I don’t like that.’

  ‘What coincidence?’

  ‘Florian supplies waltan fungus.’

  ‘He’s a forest warden who catches waltans for a little extra cash. So what? I expect most of them do. It’s not like he’s a real drug dealer – you need a chemistry lab to process them into granddad’s delight.’

  ‘The point is, Florian has connections with Opole’s gangs. That gave him a driver into the city. How many civilians have contacts like this? It put him ahead of us again. I don’t like it.’

  ‘He’s got lucky, that’s all. He can’t escape the PSR. Nobody can.’

  ‘But he’s smart. And his contacts – radicals and criminals . . . That’s not a good combination, not for us. If he’s been supplying the gangs with waltans, he’ll have money, too, that’ll help him disappear. Seven years of drug money, and he hasn’t spent any – I saw his lodge.’

  ‘Get a grip. If you’re a proper PSR officer, you have to be positive. We’re going to catch him. Lukan can’t outrun an entire regiment, not to mention the helicopter. They’re only an hour ahead of us.’

  ‘Right. But we have to be certain. When we get back to the command centre I want you to call the Opole office. We need to know all about the city’s trade in granddad’s delight. Which gangs supply it, where they operate from, known members.’

  She nodded – approvingly, for once. ‘I’m on it.’

  *

  Florian had to admit, he was expecting the Sandy-J to start with a roar, maybe sounding like an Air Defence Force IA-509. Instead the engine came to life with the purr of a happy kitten. Whoever designed the exhaust’s silencer extensions really knew what they were doing.

  Behind the windscreen, Lukan gave him a thumbs-up. Florian turned out the oil lamp and started pulling the door winch chain; its rattling was louder than the engine, reverberating round the cavern. Slowly, the big wooden door levered its way up. The night outside was as dark as the interior of the cavern. Florian carried on tugging the loop of chain.

  When the door was fully open, the Sandy-J whispered past him. He pulled the release lever, and ran out into the open as the door hinged silently back down. The car kept on going.

  ‘What the . . . ?’ Florian gazed helplessly at it as it rolled across the gritty sand, past some low boulders. ‘Hey, stop. Stop!’ He ran after it, waving his arms about. Teal barked excitedly, bounding along beside him. Essie was in the car!

  Sandy-J curved round a small clump of rock, and dipped down into a stone hollow before braking. Florian came skidding to a halt beside it, breathing heavily.

  ‘You okay, buddy?’ Lukan asked as he climbed out of the car.

  ‘Where were you going?’ Florian demanded. Shock was making him lightheaded again. Exovision medical displays showed him his heart-rate was one-fifty. He felt giddy, and ducked his head in through the open door to see Essie. She was sitting in the passenger seat, leaning forwards so her hands rested on the dashboard, going: ‘Vroom vroom!’

  ‘You okay, sweetheart?’

  ‘Dadda, I’s hunquee.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Come on,’ Lukan said, and started walking back to the hidden cave.

  ‘What were you doing?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You drove off!’

  ‘Buddy, you gotta be— Oh, you thought I was snatching the baby from you, didn’t you?’

  ‘No. I just— I . . .’

  ‘You did! Man oh man, you are one paranoid ass.’ He pointed at the ground. ‘See where Sandy-J is parked up? She’s on naked rock. But here, this is earth she’s driven over. Sandy-J leaves tracks in this crud, especially after the rain we’ve just had. So you and I, we go back to the door and cover our tracks. If we didn’t do that, we might as well send up a big red flare to show your PSR friends where we are.’

  ‘Oh. Yes. I get it.’

  The door was camouflaged by a layer of soil on the outside, leaving it almost invisible amid a sloping pile of gritty dirt that lay against a long rock ridge. It even had weeds growing in the middle of it. Florian and Lukan used branches from scrub bushes to sweep the earth back over the edges of the door, then wipe the car’s tracks away.

 
‘Now we go,’ Lukan announced as they got back into the Coperearl.

  Essie clung to Florian. ‘Legs stiff, Dada. Stiff.’ Her tiny nose was wrinkled up as if she was about to cry.

  ‘Okay, sweetheart. Daddy will fix it.’ He began massaging her legs, slightly surprised by how chubby they were. Essie had been walking around the garage cave that afternoon, exploring while he helped Lukan; along with her accelerated growth it must be putting a strain on her muscles and joints.

  It was only after a minute he realized Lukan was driving without the headlights on. His own Eliter retinas with the u-shadow enhancer routines allowed him to see at night, which must mean Lukan . . .

  ‘Are you an Eliter?’ he blurted.

  Lukan flashed him a wide grin. ‘I am surely not, buddy. I am a proud believer.’

  ‘A believer?’

  ‘In the Church of the Return.’

  ‘Oh, right. Yeah.’

  ‘So you don’t believe?’

  ‘I’ve not really thought about it.’

  Lukan laughed softly and turned on the radio. The car was filled with the crackle of the speakers and the occasional garbled word of the regiment communication staff.

  Florian was still massaging Essie’s legs. He stared out over the bonnet, watching the landscape. Sandy-J was driving along a shallow stone gully. A narrow trickle of water ran along the bottom, almost invisible in the darkness.

  Lukan has to have an Eliter heritage, Florian decided. No way could ordinary eyes see well enough to drive at night. He almost pinged the driver just to find out, but decided against. Not all Eliters embraced their ‘community’.

  After a couple of kilometres, Lukan turned off, and drove along a farm track. Florian could see fields of tall wheat on either side of them. On the left, in the far distance, his infra-red sight revealed a small spot glowing dull pink. Farmhouse?

  Whatever the source, Lukan kept well away from it. He knew every track across the land and through woodland – knew where the gates in the fences were. The only time they saw a main tree-lined road was when they dashed across it to vanish up another country lane.

  Essie fell asleep after a couple of hours and plenty more richmilk, cosy in Florian’s lap, his arms around her. Then the whimpering began again.

 

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