Deserter

Chapter 24

The dress showed amazingly few wrinkles. As Abby said, the perfect little number for this evening.

''I'll stay in uniform a bit longer,'' Jack said and opened the door. The corridor was business charcoal and blue, very tastefully done. She led Jack, as if he was her escort, for stop twelve. There the hall emptied into a wide spiral concourse winding its way in a gentle slope toward Circle One, the outer skin of the station with its docks and ships. Being public, the concourse was carpeted in eye-appealing brown and beige. The ceiling was high, the walls impressive in what might be real marble.

The people they passed were businessmen and women, some being hustled along by security guards, others going their way without interference. This was where the movers worked and did their shaking. They kept their calm exterior even when the station trembled. OUR CAR HAS EXPLODED, Nelly reported.

Jack provided Kris all the probity she required. No one approached her; still, she kept within an easy dash of the right-hand wall with its occasional cross-corridors. Here and there a baggage cart sat parked and out of use for the last week, a few loaded with forlorn packages. Kris kept her pace down, her breath slow, covering the distance to Circle One. Get there, find a yacht or fast transport, and she was out of here.

A door opened in a cross-corridor; Tom stuck his head out, saw Kris, and waved. A moment later, Penny hurried out of the stairwell, a worried glance backward telling Kris all she needed to know. She waved Tom away, pointing him down the corridor and away from the concourse, while taking a step back and turning toward the wall herself.

Kris had broken contact. The last thing she wanted now was a shoot-out drawing ninjas and grays to this quiet and ignored section of the station. ''Jack, get a baggage cart. Large, loaded, if you can.''

The second nearest filled the bill. Jack pushed it; Kris pointed him down the corridor, then followed him. A lady putting her security to good use as a bellhop.

Two red-clad women bolted from the stairwell, dismissed the baggage cart with a glance, and spotted Tom and Penny as they disappeared around a corner. They took off running, but Jack tripped and sent the baggage cart careening into one, knocking her into the other. Kris had watched Sandfire's harem girls move with liquid grace, but these two were not expecting to tangle with a cart full of boxes. Both went down, one hard.

''My leg, you idiot gray-skull. Look where you're going.''

''I'm sorry, ma'am,'' Jack said, all contrition and head down as he approached them, Kris in his shadow. ''I tripped.''

''Over your shoelaces, no doubt,'' the leader snapped, helping the other to her feet. ''Can you run on that?''

The other took a step that turned into a hobble. The ankle of her tight body armor expanded to make a splint. ''I'll try to keep up. You chase them.''

''Listen, I'm sorry,'' Jack said, reaching out to offer support to the limping one.

Kris came around Jack, arm out for the other one, wrist limp to hide her automatic. ''Listen, I know they rented me the worst excuse for security on the Rim, nothing like back on Earth. I feel like I owe you—''

The leader's eyes grew big. ''You're—''

''Yes, I am,'' Kris said, putting three sleepy darts into her. At lowest power, her automatic was hardly louder than a series of pops. At this range, it shattered her skull. Jack gave the other one the same treatment. Quickly, they loaded the reds onto the cart and buried them under boxes. Tom ducked his head around the corner, grinned, and he and Penny hurried back.

''Anybody seen or heard from Abby?'' Kris asked. Penny shook her head. In their travels, the other two had acquired new clothes as well. Penny now wore Security gray. Tom had acquired a light blue dinner jacket and red cummerbund that went well with his uniform pants. ''Tom, you and Penny stay on this side of the concourse. Jack and I will edge toward the left. If anyone gets in trouble, we'll help as we can.''

They got to where Concourse Twelve emptied onto Circle One with no further trouble.

''Abby says the private yacht basin is left,'' Nelly said.

''When?'' Kris asked.

''I do not know, but she left a small message nano at the corner to tell me that.''

Kris turned left.

The spin of the station was slow enough that huge freighters and liners had no problem catching their first mooring hitch and being pulled into the pier. Yachts and runabouts, smaller and more maneuverable, were expected to find their places along several landings that made up Pier Eleven. Kris wanted a large ship. That meant selecting one that paid extra for an outer birth. Finding the right one could take time she didn't have.

Abby exited a ladies' room, twelve steamer trunks docilely trailing behind her. ''You're right on time,'' she told Kris. ''There's a large yacht out on landing D. There's a slightly smaller one on landing C. Which do you want?''

''Which has the lighter security?'' Jack asked.

''I don't know. It didn't seem wise to be noticed casing the place, what with all the trouble some people were causing.''

''Ever the courageous one,'' Jack growled.

''We're all still alive,'' Abby pointed out cheerfully.

''Let's take the bigger one. I have a plan for getting through their security,'' Kris said.

''What might that be?'' Tom said as he and Penny joined up.

''The same one we used the first night.'' Kris didn't try to swallow her evil grin. ''You can't tell me wealthy yachts don't put calls out for strange, new, and interesting woman flesh?''

''I think I have created a monster,'' Abby moaned, but she was rummaging in the side compartment of one of the trunks.

''Abby hasn't created a monster,'' Jack said. ''She's only putting the finishing touches on Kris's own work of art.''

''And speaking of finishing touches, you might want this,'' Abby said, tossing Kris a small hand purse.

Kris opened it. A compact with an old-fashioned mirror, six sticks of chewing gum and, Kris took a second to recognize the other items, four different kinds of condoms. ''I think I can use some of this,'' she said with a slight cough.

Jack glanced over Kris's shoulder, then threw Abby a glare. ''And you were acting surprised.''

''Surprised, yes. Unprepared, never.'' And she produced a purse of her own. ''Shall we go, Sister?'' Abby tossed Jack the controller for the steamer trunks. ''Don't misplace any of them, and please don't pick up luggage that is not your own. So many look alike,'' she beamed and led Kris into the landing tunnel.

Ten meters around, the landing spiral made a comfortable walkway with wide windows looking out over gaily painted runabouts and small overnighters. Just the thing for in-system travel. Kris jawed a growing wad of gum for a good hundred meters, got it under control, and flashed Abby a smile.

''I know I'm supposed to look like that loony vid Princess,'' Kris said, snapping her gum and putting a twang on each word, ''but who'd go for you?'' Kris knew she was letting the imp get her tongue, but she was seeing a new side of her maid and had to scratch that surface.

''There are men who go for prim, unbending women, and besides,'' Abby said, snapping her purse open and producing a fold-out whip, ''I have other special skills.''

''Men are crazy.'' Kris shook her head.

''Some men are crazy. So are some women. The trick is to match them up.'' The landing divided into two levels. Abby took the up ramp. Now the ships out the windows were larger, more impressive, and less flamboyantly painted. Clearly, the greater the value, the less the need for overstatement. At the end of the landing, two men in black suits and ties lounged at the entrance to a gangway elevator. Kris got her hips going, her dress swaying, and gave the sashay all she had.

''Don't overdo it,'' Abby whispered through her smile. ''These guys are not the customer.''

''Yeah, but ain't they hunks. I could go for them.''

''You give nothing away for free, young woman. How can your dear mother make a living off you if you devalue what you sell?''

The words almost knocked Kris out of her walk. Had Abby just let something slip? Yes, Mama, Kris mouthed silently.

''Can we help you… ladies?'' the guard with a shaved head said as the younger, cuter one, took a step back and rested his hand on what had to be his weapon.

''Our agency had a call from Pier eleven-d-one for a rush escort service,'' Abby said as Kris brought a hand up to her hair, put her hips in low and her gum on high. ''They weren't quite sure what was required, so they sent us both.''

''This is the right pier,'' the guard said, trying not to eye Kris. ''What was requested?''

''Candy, get rid of that gum,'' Abby whispered from the side of her mouth, then smiled at the guards. ''Someone with a certain media cache as a reward, though punishment might be required.''

The guard paged through his hand unit. ''I've got nothing.'

''Yeah,'' the young one said, ''but the kid's been having a lousy week. Maybe the boss is trying something new. You heard about tonight.''

The two guards turned to exchange knowing grins. Abby sniffed—and she took down the hunk, leaving the closer guy to Kris. Three soft pops and enough sleepy drug was in their chests to keep them down for the night.

''What was that all about?'' Kris said as she stepped over the guard.

''I have no idea, but we better be ready at the inside door.'' So they entered the elevator, pushed the one button, and slow and easy rode it down.

The elevator stopped at a landing facing what Kris thought of as the quarterdeck. Two men in dark suits, apparently the uniform of this ship's security, eyed them cautiously. ''What brings you here, ah, ladies?'' one with a bull neck asked. Beside him, seated at a console with blank monitors, was a smaller but equally muscled model of himself.

''My agency received a call for our services.''

''We didn't make a call,'' the small one said, turning to his board and flipping through the one active screen.

''Yeah, Marko, but there's a lot of stuff you're not monitoring tonight,'' the other said, waving a hand at the blank screens. ''Station lines were max flaky even before the boss hit the disconnect.'' A thick comm line lay on the gangway. Normally, it was one of the last things disconnected before getting under way. Tonight, someone had unplugged it, leaving the ship out of any land line loop and killing the camera feed covering the upper part of the gangway. Bit of luck for Kris and her team, she thought as she and Abby took advantage of bull neck's momentary concentration on winning his point with Marko to shoot the two of them full of sleepy darts.

Gun out, Kris stood guard while Abby lugged the two sleepers onto the landing, then rode the elevator up. She returned a moment later with Jack, Tom, and Penny.

''Jack, you and Abby secure the ship. The rest of you, with me. Let's see what the bridge looks like,'' Kris said, then halted. The only way to the command deck was an elevator. A good option for a ship under high acceleration, but being locked in a box was not an idea Kris liked tonight. ''Penny, you stay down here. Tom, you're my pimp.''

''Your what!''

''Stay close, keep your mouth closed, and gun ready.''

''Where have I heard that order before?'' he said, giving Kris a wry grin and Penny a quick kiss. Then he stepped into the elevator. Kris hit the top button, and the car started moving.

The doors opened on a dimly lit bridge that smelled of machine oil, rosin, sweat, and ozone. The rest of the ship might smell like an office, but here it was a working ship. Two chairs swiveled around to face the elevator. A man and woman in dark flight suits, pistols in shoulder holsters, eyed Kris.

Kris turned her entrance onto the bridge into an excited half hop and wiggle. ''Wow, this really is maxi radi,'' she bubbled. ''This is really what makes the thing go?'' she asked, getting a peek around the side of the elevator. A third man worked at a console back there. Whatever it did, the board was up and held the man's attention.

''Excuse me, kid,'' the woman said, standing, ''but haven't you taken a wrong turn somewhere?''

''I told her our client would be down, not up, but she pushed the button before I could stop her,'' Tom said. ''Come on, Rosie, we've got a customer waiting.''

''But this one's good-looking, and I bet he could tell me what all of those flashing lights mean,'' Kris gushed and took two steps closer to the controls.

''Honey child, you do look like fun,'' the still-seated man said, ''but I am on duty, and this is not a sim. All this is working, and we can't have little girls playing with it.''

''Little girls?'' Kris pouted—and shot the fellow.

Tom brought down the woman. The fellow behind the elevator was just turning as Kris put three darts into him.

''I'm taller than you, little boy,'' Kris said as she turned the command chair and rolled the sleeping fellow out of it. ''Tom, get Penny. We've got some controls to figure out.''

Tom pulled the woman he'd shot into a fireman's carry and headed for the elevator. Kris studied the board, but, following the napping pilot's advice, touched nothing.

When the elevator returned, Abby was with Penny. ''The ship's ours. There were only two more crew on board. A fellow claiming to be the cook told us most hands were dirtside on leave. They were recalled after you kids started mowing things up, but they aren't back yet.''

''Let's close up the ship,'' Kris said.

''Give us a few minutes to get everyone off,'' Abby said, pulling sleepers into the elevator. ''Oh, and what looks like the owner's cabin has been locked from the outside and the inside. Jack's working on the problem.''

''Outside and inside,'' Kris muttered. ''Nelly, can you do anything about that?''

''I am concentrating on access to the ship's main network,'' Kris's computer said slowly, as if ashamed to admit she wasn't already in. ''This system is very well protected.''

''Well, get in,'' Kris said. ''The reactor is on a low trickle, but I'll have to add reaction mass for a good five minutes before we can get under way. When's the big boom scheduled?''

''Six point four two minutes.''

Abby and Tom left with the last two sleepers. Penny settled down on the other side of the bridge, examining that working station. ''Kris,'' she called half a minute later, ''I think this is an intelligence gathering post. I seem to have access to a whole lot of police and military data flow.''

''But they disconnected the land line from the main net. I saw the decoupled data line.''

''It's coming in on a tight beam. If I didn't know better, I'd say someone has hacked the central security net.''

''Curious and curiouser,'' Kris whispered, still eying the lights on the navigation board. ''Nelly, it would be real nice to do a few things.''

''I think I have broken the lock on your board, Kris. Try something.''

Kris tapped for a slight increase in reactor power.

Access Denied.

''I will keep working on that, Kris.''

''You do.'' Kris wanted to scream, pound on the workstation, run in circles. Instead, she walked slowly around the bridge. All stations faced the wall screens, a conventional merchant ship layout since no one put merchies into defensive battle spins. One station backed up the main nav position; that was where the woman had sat. The next few stations around the bridge circle were blank. One should have been sensors if this was a jump ship. Kris would wait until Nelly turned on all stations to make sure. The stations along the back were all data-gathering slots; some looked business, some scientific. Strange mix. Penny was deep into something, so Kris left her undisturbed.

The positions took on an engineering look as Kris made her way back to nav station… except the one next to navigation. It was totally blank, ready to be brought up and initialized. But as what?

Kris settled into the seat at nav. ''Nelly, it would be real nice if we could light a fire on this rig.''

''Try it again, please.''

Kris edged up the reactor level from 5 percent to 10 percent. The reactor responded. Sitting forward in her chair, Kris further increased the flow of reaction mass to the reactor. The amount of plasma into the standby race tract increased, and the electricity generated by the Magnetohydrodynamics engines rose with it. Kris fed that into capacitors… and found this yacht had a very large capacity for storing spare electricity.

''Jack, you ready to seal the hatches?''

''Getting the last extras over the side and sealing the gangway as we speak.''

''Break all connections except the mooring hold-downs. Then stand by. Nelly, how long until things get interesting on the station?''

''Three minutes or so,'' Nelly said.

''And why are you suddenly going general on me?'' Kris asked as she checked out her maneuvering jets. The ship bucked a bit, but the mooring lines held it tight.

''I became aware that though the command nanos have their instructions, the possibility of opposition means that instructions may not be executed on the second I planned.''

''Good, Nelly, you are catching on to how things work in the real world.''

''Your ‘real world' is messy.''

''What parts of this control system don't we control?''

''I am still trying to bring up the jump point sensors,'' Nelly said. ''They are under a different lockdown entirely.''

''Probably the woman I shot,'' Tom said, crossing from the elevator to the secondary control station. He tapped several buttons, then tapped more, shaking his head slowly. ''I see an atom laser gyro, but it won't initialize. Same for the gravimeter. Kris, we can't jump.''

''Nelly, keep working.''

''Kris''—Jack's words came through the ship's system—''I sure could use some help cracking into this last room.''

''Anyone shooting at you from it?''

''Not at the moment.''

''Then Nelly keeps hacking the jump station before she messes with anything else.''

''Dock eleven-d-one, this is the Port Master's office. We read you powering up. We remind you this port is closed.''

''Roger, Port Master,'' Kris drawled, ''we understand this port is closed. We're just running some tests. We've been parked here a while and, if you'll excuse my comment, things are getting a bit interesting on your station. Just in case Pier Eleven were to, maybe, fall off, my owner wants to know I could maneuver to a new dock.''

''I understand your owner is antsy. Just you understand I have orders to shoot anyone departing the station.''

''Assuming they still have power,'' Kris whispered, resting her hand on the console mike. On it, but not totally over it.

''I heard that. We all have our problems tonight. Just you don't go adding any more to my growing list.''

''Roger, Port Master, over and out.'' This time Kris did wait to say anything further until the mike showed a solid red light. ''That ought to keep him off our back for a while.''

''But did you have to give me a heart attack doing it?'' Penny said, leaning back in her chair so she could see Kris. ''I know getting out of here is like, top and highest priority, but you might want to see what I found.''

''I can watch the board,'' Tom offered.

Kris trotted over to look at Penny's board.

''I have quite a comm set here,'' Penny began. ''You want to know what the President is saying, listen here.'' She punched a button and the President's harsh twang came through solidly. ''His accent gets worse when he's under pressure,'' Penny said, ''and that's about as bad as I've ever heard it.''

''What else do you have?''

''How about Sandfire?''

''Him!'' came from both Kris and Tom.

''He doesn't say a lot, but when he does, he says it on this channel. Actually, it's about fifty-nine channels, but this rig knows his schedule for jumping as well as his code.''

''You sure?''

''He's ordered his ninjas back to ‘the castle.' He also ordered somebody named ‘Bertie' and his team to the same location. I don't know where that is, but it doesn't sound like he's still hunting us.''

''That's not good.'' Kris turned and walked slowly back to her station. While Sandfire was turning the station upside down, he was chasing the wrong fox. If he was pulling his teams back, that meant he'd given up and was trying something new. ''Keep track of Sandfire. Let me know of any traffic from him. What's the President doing?''

''There seems to be an uprising going on dirtside. The Arab quarter was first to send people into the streets. Then the university district had a rally to hear some Senators, some of whom you've met. It got out of hand, and now other areas have streets jammed with people. When orders came to use force to break them up, a lot of the cops refused and joined the protestors. Our buddy Inspector Klaggath was on the net encouraging any doubters to ‘jump in, the water's fine.' '' Kris smiled at that, wondering if the Inspector had lake water in mind.

''Sandfire's insisting they can beat the revolt. Izzic's the nervous type who wants his problems solved yesterday. He's issuing a lot of orders. My guess is too many. Order, counterorder, disorder.'' Penny said, quoting the old military warning.

''Kris, we have a problem,'' Jack announced on ship net. ''Somebody's come down the gangway and found our sleeping beauties. They're demanding we open up.''

''I think that's our cue to leave,'' Kris said, slipping into her seat and belting herself in while her eyes checked her board. ''I see a green board.''

''I confirm a green board,'' Tom answered.

''I have the conn. Nelly, release all moorings,'' Kris said as she gave her forward reaction jet a light tap.

Nothing happened.

''I do not have control of the mooring points,'' Nelly answered. ''I am working on them.''

''Work fast, Nelly.''

''Mooring eleven-d-one, this is the Port Master. We showing you trying to release your mooring points. All mooring points have been centrally locked. What do you think you're doing?''

''Sorry, Port Master,'' Kris said, tapping her mike on. ''We were testing things, and a subroutine got activated. Computer error. Won't happen again.''

''See that it doesn't. Wait one.'' The net went dead with a harsh click.

''Oh, oh,'' Tommy said. ''I think someone just got through.''

''Who am I talking to?'' came in a new voice.

''Repeat your question,'' Kris said. ''We're not on land line, and our radio traffic is breaking up. You know how it is.'' Kris tried to ramble on but was cut off.

''This is the Port Duty Officer. Who am I talking to?''

''Nelly Benteen,'' Kris said, taking the name of a friend from first grade.

''What's your ship?''

Kris tapped the mike. As it went red, she glanced around. ''Anybody know the name of this bucket of bolts?''

''Terrorists on yacht at pier eleven-d-one. You are in violation of—''

''Nelly, kill that channel.'' It went quiet.

''Sandfire appears to have a couple of ships,'' Penny said. ''He's ordering them to cast off and take station to keep us in port.''

''Nelly, it would really be nice to get out of here.''

''Try your jets.''

Kris did.

''Try them harder.''

Kris tapped the ship's speaker. ''Jack, Abby, get ready for a hull breach. I'm backing out of here, and the pier isn't exactly cooperating.''

Kris took a deep breath, gave Jack about as much time as she could to secure himself inboard from the hull, and ordered the bow thrusters to 25 percent. The ship trembled under her but went nowhere. Using her fingers, she edged the power line up slowly to 50 percent. The ship bucked in place. Somewhere metal tore. Hope that's the dock.

At 63 percent something let go. The ship creaked and groaned as the tie-downs trundled down the pier at three times the authorized speed. As the bridge passed the end of the pier and the station spin swung the landing away, Kris got a short glimpse of twisted metal and whipping cables. It didn't look like she was leaving much if any of her hull behind.

''Any castoff you can walk away from is a cause for celebration,'' Tom said. ''Isn't that what the old Chief said?''

''I don't think he had this in mind,'' Kris muttered as she steadied ship, dampened her reverse headway, and looked for room to rotate ship.

''Are you sure?'' Tom grinned.

''I'm sure I'd like to know if I'm being targeted,'' Kris said.

''None of the ranging lasers from the station are on us,'' Penny said. ''I have their net, and it really sounds like a Tiger and Rabbit cartoon. Five will get you fifty they haven't had a live fire drill in years.''

''You ready to bet your life?'' Kris asked.

''Aren't we?''

''I hate to interrupt this validation that you both need to attend Gamblers Anonymous, but we have company,'' Tom said, pointing at the screen. Three long, thin hulls cruised slowly around the edge of the station.

Kris hit her reaction jets, spun ship, and put headway on fast.

''We've got a problem down here,'' Jack said from the ship's system.

''Sorry about that, Jack, but we've got worse problems up here. Sandfire has three ships on our tail.''

''I really think you ought to see the problem I've got down here.''

''I can't leave the pilot seat, Jack.''

''I'll bring it up to you.''

''How could you have a worse problem than mine?'' Kris muttered as she fed the main engines all the plasma she could afford to lose at the moment. Her hands played on the directional jets, jinking a bit up, a bit down, anything to spoil a firing solution.

''Kris, I have a message from Sandfire,'' Penny announced.

''I'm listening,'' Kris said as the elevator opened behind her.

''Ah,'' Sandfire beamed confidently, ''Princess Kristine, we can do this the quick way or the slow way. Either way, I have you. I have three heavily armed cruisers in range of your little runabout. Surrender, or I will blow you out of space.''

''Cal, you can't fire on this ship while I'm on it,'' came from behind Kris.

She turned.

Hank Smythe-Peterwald flashed her one if his billion-dollar smiles. ''Hi, Kris. I thought you passed on joining me on my yacht.''

Kris swallowed hard. She'd planned to hijack a ship. She didn't plan to kidnap anyone. Definitely not Hank Peterwald.

Hank's smile wavered as a flash of light lit up his face. Kris whirled back to the screen. The station was blowing up.

The first explosion came from her ten kilos of dust mites. They exploded out one side of the yard. For a moment, the station rotated on, top fine, bottom fine, the yards and docks in the middle showing one huge bite out of it. Another, larger and slower explosion roiled around inside the yard, growing as it found more to feed on, casting light out the gaping hole that went from red to yellow to white. In quiet majesty, the walls of the yard bowed, then blew out almost lazily.

As if refreshed by that, the next round of fireworks was an expanding ball of explosives that shot through the growing cloud of wreckage with lightning speed, sending fragments of ships and station twisting and spinning into space. A big chunk clipped one of Sandfire's ships, sending it careening into the next.

''So that's what a signature Longknife job looks like.'' Hank breathed slowly.