Avalon

CHAPTER 21

JETH STARED FOR A LONG TIME AT THAT EMPTY PATCH OF space where his ship had been. She’s gone. His Avalon.

And Milton.

He couldn’t believe it. Refused to believe it. This was just a dream, a horrible nightmare. Two of the most important things in his life had just vanished into the nothingness of metaspace.

He wanted to hit something, except his entire body had gone numb with shock. I won’t go back to Renford, Sierra had said. He closed his eyes, realizing his mistake. He should’ve made sure he and Milton were alone last night. He should’ve been more careful and less trusting. Milton must’ve been right about Cora. Calling Renford meant returning her to the ITA, and that was something Sierra would never let happen.

Jeth shook his head, refusing to justify Sierra’s actions. He didn’t care. Sierra had stolen his ship. He would kill her.

“Jeth?” Lizzie said from behind him.

He didn’t respond. He didn’t know how to without losing it.

“Um, Boss?” Flynn said. “You all right?”

Jeth closed his eyes, willing the numbness to retreat from his mind. He had to think about the others. He needed to be strong. His ability to lead under stress was one of the reasons Hammer had put him in charge of this crew in the first place.

Drawing a deep breath, he opened his eyes and nodded.

“What do we do now?” said Flynn.

And there it was, the question Jeth knew had been coming.

When he didn’t answer, Lizzie said, “I don’t get it. Why would they steal Avalon?”

“Because they wanted all the money for themselves and a great ship,” said Celeste.

“But they seemed . . . nice,” said Lizzie. “I really thought Sierra liked you, Jeth.”

“Shut up, Lizzie.” Jeth closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He was so angry sweat coated his skin despite the frigid air.

“I’m sorry.” Lizzie cleared her throat. “But we’ll get Milton and Avalon back. We just got to figure out where they went. Can’t be too many options, assuming they really are headed for Olympia Seven and that they made as big a jump as Avalon’s metadrive can handle.”

“You mean as long as the jump even worked,” said Flynn.

Jeth opened his eyes in time to see Lizzie shoot Flynn a glare. “You’re not helping.”

“Oh, right. Need to be helpful.” Flynn clapped his hands. “Let’s see. We’re stuck in the Belgrave on a ship with no real power, no metadrive, and probably only a day or two of oxygen left with this many people on board. Not to mention all the freaky dead bodies. So what can I do that’s helpful? I know. I can kill myself now and get it over with.”

“You can start by not being such a jerk,” Celeste said, hands on hips.

“Well, pardon me for seeing the reality of things,” said Flynn.

“You’re just focused on the negative. As usual,” said Lizzie.

“Oh right, because there’s so much positive going on around here. Did you forget that the nav system we just installed doesn’t work? And it’s anybody’s guess about the comms.”

An all-out screaming match erupted. Jeth recognized it for what it was—channeled panic. Unlike him, they were frightened instead of angry.

“That’s enough,” Jeth said. He stood and everyone fell silent. “Celeste, you go check on Shady, make sure he’s all right. Flynn, Lizzie, see if you can repair the comm system so we can call for help.” Jeth glared at each of them in turn, daring someone to protest.

Nobody did.

“I’m going to the passenger deck to check something. When I get back we’ll figure out our next move.”

Jeth strode off the bridge and made his way back to the cabin where Sierra had shot him. He stepped in and pulled the door closed behind him, not wanting to be overseen. Then he ransacked the room, finding an outlet for his anger in the act. Even though he’d searched the room once before, he did it again, desperate to find anything that might help them out of this situation. He yanked out all the drawers on the dresser. He upended the mattress. He reached inside the hidden wall panel, scraping the bottom with his fingers. He even pulled off the air vent to see if she’d hidden anything up there.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

Yanking his hair, Jeth let out a scream. It was pointless. Stupid. There was nothing to help him up here. His only option now was to call Hammer and submit to whatever punishment he saw fit to give. What had he been hoping for anyway? That she’d left behind a copy of the Aether Project? Or a calling card for their contact on Olympia Seven?

Calling card. If only . . .

Not daring to breathe, Jeth looked down and saw he was wearing his flight jacket. He’d put it on before he and Sierra had come over here. This was his favorite jacket, the one he wore on almost every job. The one he’d worn on the Montrose job, when he’d met Marcus Renford.

Jeth slipped a hand into the right side pocket. For a moment, he found nothing in there but fuzz and worn fabric brushing his knuckles. Then he felt it, something small and hard: Renford’s calling card.

Jeth pulled it out and stared at it, hardly believing his luck. This would let him contact Renford directly. Jeth closed his hand around it, weighing his options once again. Hammer or Renford. Renford was ITA, the most powerful organization in the universe—surely they could track down Avalon. And there was no telling what Hammer might do when he found out how badly Jeth had failed. It was possible he might forgive him, but Jeth doubted it—not if the Aether Project was real. The prize was too big. And Jeth had a feeling Hammer would be able to piece together what happened here, or force the truth out of him.

But calling Renford meant betraying Sierra, Vince, and Cora. The ITA would know they were still alive. Could he do that?

The answer came all too quickly—yes. They had betrayed him first. They’d stolen Avalon.

Firming his resolve, Jeth returned to the bridge where the others had gathered, including Shady, who was sitting on the floor with his back and head resting against the nav station, his arms thrust out in front of him, elbows on knees, eyes closed. A massive black, puffy bruise covered the left side of his face, the eye nearly swollen shut.

“What’ve we got?” Jeth said, scanning their expressions. None of them looked willing to speak. He zeroed his gaze on Flynn.

Flynn fidgeted a moment, then gave in. “The good news is the comm system was easy to fix. Just a couple of loose wires I was able to finagle. It should be coming online soon. We just need to cross over the border to transmit. The bad news is we’ve got two days max on life support. So we better get a hold of somebody willing to come rescue us fast.”

“Well, it seems the good outweighs the bad for once,” said Jeth.

Shady looked up, squinting at Jeth with his good eye. “So, we call Hammer then?”

“Yep,” said Flynn. “Going to be a great conversation, too. He’ll be thrilled when he finds out we disobeyed his order not to board the Donerail, brought the survivors onto Avalon, made plans to betray him, and then got our ship stolen in the process.”

Lizzie rolled her eyes. “Like we’re going to tell him all that.”

“Oh, he’ll know on his own,” said Celeste. “Hammer’s not dumb.”

“No, he’s not,” said Jeth. “And no matter what story we spin for him, he’s going to make us pay for this.” Not that we haven’t paid enough already, Jeth thought. With Avalon gone. A terrible sense of loss made the muscles in his chest contract. He drew a ragged breath.

Lizzie frowned. “But who else can we contact who’ll help us?”

Jeth reached inside his pocket and withdrew the calling card. “Marcus Renford.”

“Are you talking about the guy the three of you attacked on Kordan?” said Shady.

“Uh-huh,” said Lizzie. “He sure is.”

“Well, don’t you think he might not be too happy with you after that?”

“It’s not like we hurt him,” said Celeste, no doubt remembering the way Renford had vanished off the ship, despite the two stunners he’d taken to the chest.

“Right,” said Jeth. “And it doesn’t change the fact that he wanted us to bring him the Donerail. So we bring it to him. Or have him come get it, rather.”

“You think he still wants it?” asked Flynn, looking around.

“Of course, he doesn’t,” said Celeste. “He wants the Aether Project, or whatever it is that Vince and Sierra just escaped with.”

“Maybe,” said Jeth. Or he wants them. “But either way, he might help us in order to get the information we can give him about where they went. I mean, he doesn’t even know they’re alive.”

Shady grunted. “That doesn’t sound like much of a plan. We don’t have any real leverage on the guy.”

Jeth sighed. “I know, but it’s the best one we’ve got for getting Avalon back. If it doesn’t work, we’ll call Hammer. Unless any of you have a better idea.” As he expected, no one did.

A short while later, Jeth piloted them over the border, then inserted the calling card into the comm reader.

With nothing else to do while they waited for Renford to answer, Lizzie huddled down next to Celeste on the floor beside the comm station, the two of them sharing a blanket and body heat. Flynn sat across from them on a pile of pillows he’d gathered from the cabins. Shady hadn’t moved at all.

“So, how long do we wait before we give up?” asked Shady an hour later.

“Long enough,” Jeth snapped, unable to hide his impatience. Flynn patted his stomach. “Would’ve been nice if they’d left us some food.”

“Go take a nap,” said Celeste. “You’ll burn fewer calories and be less hungry.”

Flynn rubbed his arms. “Sure, like I won’t burn them trying to stay warm inside this icicle.”

“I hope they’ll remember to feed Viggo,” said Lizzie. “They probably will, right? I mean, they’re not completely heartless. They could’ve killed us instead of herding us over here.”

“Oh, sure,” said Shady. “They’re real saints.”

Jeth gritted his teeth. If Renford didn’t answer soon he was going to shoot somebody—Yeah, right, using a gun you don’t have. Everything he owned was on Avalon. He’d built his whole life around that ship, only to have a couple of strangers snatch it away.

“It’s true,” Lizzie protested. “They could’ve taken the ship when we first brought them on board.”

“Oh, no they couldn’t,” said Celeste. “They had to earn our trust first. Ain’t that right, Captain?”

“Yeah,” said Shady, turning his one-eyed gaze on Jeth. “How’d Sierra manage to get the jump on you so easy, anyhow?”

Jeth felt a blush threaten to color his face, and he turned toward the comm station. Screw it. He’d just contact Hammer and be done with it. It was better than all this waiting around, wallowing in frustration and guilt. He’d been an idiot. If he’d been less preoccupied with kissing Sierra and more concerned about getting the truth out of her, none of this would’ve happened.

Just as he was about to press the kill switch, the call button started blinking. Someone was finally answering.

Marcus Renford’s face appeared onscreen a moment later. He looked exactly the same as Jeth remembered: thin, with black hair turning to steel.

“Jethro Seagrave,” Renford said, a false smile rising to his lips. “Nice to see you again. Although I’m a bit surprised, to be honest, considering how our last interlude ended.”

Jeth didn’t bother playing nice. He was too cold, too angry, and too desperate for games. “We found the Donerail.”

“I can see that. Judging from your incoming source protocol, I’d say you’re calling from the Donerail.” Renford paused. “But how is it you’re still breathing on a ship that long gone?”

“Maybe because it wasn’t as long gone as you thought. And maybe not everybody on board was dead either.”

“What?”

“That’s right. There were three survivors.”

Renford’s eyes narrowed, the gesture making his face suddenly snakelike. “Who?”

Jeth shook his head, knowing full well those names were the source of his leverage. “First things first. We need your help. We’re stranded just outside the Belgrave. The nav’s down, so not sure where.”

Renford leaned back from the screen. “But where is Avalon?”

“Stolen, by those same survivors. Who I’ll be happy to identify once you pick us up.”

“I see. But why call me? You made it clear you only work for Hammer.”

Jeth gritted his teeth. “I’m reconsidering the situation. I’d like to take you up on your offer. The Donerail for Avalon.”

“But you just said Avalon was stolen.”

Hearing the truth spoken aloud stung, but Jeth ignored it. “So she was, but I know who took her, and I’ve got a pretty good idea of what their next move is. And I’m willing to help you find them. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“Really?” Renford arched an eyebrow. “That’s an interesting proposition. Tell me, is the rest of your crew still with you?”

Jeth frowned, wondering why it mattered. “Yeah, they are. What of it?”

Renford made a show of examining his fingernails, not answering. “So, you’re offering to tell me everything you know about the Donerail survivors and to track them down in exchange for your ship?”

“Yes, and we want some reassurance that the ITA will protect us from any retaliation Hammer might attempt.”

Renford looked up. “There’s no way I can guarantee your complete safety. Hammer is a powerful man. His criminal network has a far reach.”

Jeth swallowed. He knew this well enough. “All I’m asking is you repair any damage to my ship and give us some cash and supplies to help us stay hidden from Hammer. At least for a while.” Surely there was somewhere in the galaxy where Hammer couldn’t get at them.

“All right. I think I can do that. But on one condition.”

Jeth took a deep breath, trying to keep the exasperation from his voice. “What?”

Renford leaned toward the screen. “I will send a ship to come get you right now, but you must give me the names of the survivors first.”

“How do I know you’ll still come get us once I’ve told you?”

“Simple. I’ve given you my word. And I’m not Hammer Dafoe. Besides, you said you had more information to share. I’m interested in all of it.”

Jeth considered his options. They were just names. He didn’t have to say anything about the Aether Project or that Avalon’s metadrive was failing or about Sierra’s contact on Olympia Seven.

I’ll never go back to Renford, he heard Sierra say once more.

Are you really going to betray her? Betray them?

Jeth steeled himself against the doubt. They’d stolen his ship. They would get what they deserved.

What about Cora? What does she deserve?

Jeth closed his eyes, doubt making his head swim.

“What’s your answer?” Renford pressed.

Just names. Nothing more. And I don’t have a choice. Not now.

“Jethro?” said Renford.

Jeth looked at him and said, “Sierra Hightower, Vince Mallory, and a little girl named Cora.”

An intense, nameless emotion crossed Renford’s face. Surprise? Alarm? “Thank you, Jeth. This is most helpful. Leave the comm line open so I can triangulate your position. As soon as I’ve got it, I’ll send my nearest ship to fetch you.”

Jeth sighed, relieved it was over. “How long?”

“An hour, at most.”

He nodded, and Renford ended the connection.

“Well, that went well,” Shady said. “So, we’re really going to trust this guy?”

Lizzie shook her head. “We should’ve just called Hammer. Renford gives me the creeps.”

Jeth didn’t reply, although silently he agreed with Lizzie, at least about the creepy part.

Should’ve gone with the devil you know, a voice whispered in his mind.

Jeth ignored it. Renford was the best choice. The only choice, now. Hammer wouldn’t give a damn about Milton. Or Avalon. And Jeth hadn’t forgotten about Renford’s offer to tell him the truth about his parents.

But in the end, choice didn’t matter.

When a ship finally arrived a half hour later, it wasn’t an ITA ship at all.

It was one of Hammer’s.