by C N Samson
CHAPTER 36
RHEINBORNE ENTERED room 225 alone, having ordered Tahla and ZT to wait in the hallway. He checked beneath the double bed with its perfectly taut sheets, looked behind and under the curved sofa, and made sure that the tall wardrobe closet was empty. He made a cursory check of the little table and pair of chairs near the window, then examined the compact refrigeration unit with its complimentary one-day stock of bulbs and cubes. While investigating the bathroom with its blue-and-orange tiles, the door chime repeatedly sounded.
“Hey, can we come in now?” came Tahla’s faint voice.
“Yeah, fine, come in,” Rheinborne called, returning to the room’s main space. He would have liked to have done an electronic sweep, but he obviously lacked the equipment.
Tahla and ZT entered, the door automatically closing behind them.
“What did you expect to find, assassins?” Tahla asked, sounding displeased.
“Wow, this is nice!” ZT said, gazing around. “It even smells expensive.”
“Go ahead and lock up,” Rheinborne said, flopping onto the couch. “Let me know when your friend gets here. Oh, and if you’re going to do it, at least try to be quiet.” He rolled onto his side, closed his eyes, and in less than a minute he fell dead asleep.
Some time later, a light sensation on his face caused him to stir. He ignored it, began drifting back down into soundless, peaceful slumber, until—
“Wake it and shake it, soldier!”
Rheinborne’s eyes snapped open. He found himself practically eyeball-to-eyeball with Marlaina, her green hair brushing his cheek.
“You don’t look like a rabbit,” Rheinborne murmured.
Marlaina pulled back, thrust herself upright and cast an accusing look at Tahla, who sat cross-legged on the bed.
“Oh come on, you’re still cute,” the young engineer said, shifting position and drawing her knees up to her chest.
Rheinborne sat up on the sofa, yawned and stretched. “How long have you been here?”
Marlaina took a seat at the table by the window. “Long enough to hear the details of the situation.”
“And your assessment of the situation would be?”
“That it’s hopelessly insane, and startlingly suicidal.”
“Right on both counts,” Rheinborne said.
Marlaina bent over the table, began tapping. Rheinborne saw that she had four dataslates arranged side-by-side in front of her, in a linked computational array.
He turned his attention back to Tahla and now noticed that ZT was missing.
“Where’s your future-husband?” he asked.
“He’ll be back soon,” Tahla said. “Oh, and our modules are back on.” She touched her right ear.
Rheinborne accessed his ECM and initiated a diagnostic routine. All indicators confirmed that he once again had a channel to the GalSigNet, as well as to the hotel’s infolink.
“Thanks,” he said to Marlaina.
“Sure thing,” the chixxar replied. “You two will also be able to use your sectac mode again, but I’ll have to generate a new sync code. We can do that later, though.”
Rheinborne got up, excused himself to use the facilities. When he came out, ZT had returned. The courier pilot explained that he had made arrangements for the Caspriona to be moved to the spaceport’s long-term bay, where Briggston’s ship Highfire was parked.
A small hologram of a ship appeared over one of Marlaina’s dataslates.
“This is Briggston’s bird,” she said. “A LammerFleet model LF-575.”
Rheinborne was familiar with the ship’s specs. It was a pleasure yacht, with an L6 stardrive and a number of luxury amenities. The vessel had a sleek, graceful design, from its tapered nose to the engine nacelles embedded in its delta wings.
Tahla curled up on the bed, turned her back to everyone. ZT leaned over and whispered to her. She made a muffled reply.
ZT straightened up and said, “Sorry, could we be alone for a little while?”
“Sure,” Marlaina said, and motioned for Rheinborne to follow her into the bathroom. He hesitated, then complied at her mouthed “come here.”
The lights snapped on as they entered. The chixxar slid the door closed behind them.
At the moment, the entrances to the toilet pod and shower stall were opaque. It appeared as if the bathroom only contained a long marble countertop with dual sinks and a wide oval mirror on the wall above the counter. Rheinborne caught his reflection and felt self-conscious; it had been a while since he’d shaved, or changed his clothes.
“Poor girl,” said Marlaina, perching on the edge of the counter.
“She going to be okay?” Rheinborne asked, leaning against the wall.
“Give her time. She’s lost her uncle, her ship, nearly died in space...”
“I know. I was there.”
Marlaina bobbed her head. “Right, yeah, sorry.”
Rheinborne made no reply, and the silence stretched for longer than was comfortable.
Finally, he said, “So what do you—”
At the same time, Marlaina asked, “So have you—”
They laughed. Rheinborne told her to go first.
“So you were in the Patrol, I hear. Have you ever had to do anything like this before?”
“This? You mean abduct a high-level crimelord out from under his army of bodyguards? No. But, I have done things that were...situationally adjacent.”
“Top secret, classified things?” Marlaina wondered.
Rheinborne shrugged. “Possibly.”
Marlaina pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “So what did you want to ask me?”
“What’s your price, in return for your help?”
“What’s my price?” she echoed, eyebrows arching. The question seemed to offend her.
“You’re taking a huge risk. No matter how well you hide your tracks, someone will find out.”
Marlaina sniffed. “Ever hear of loyalty? Of helping a friend in need?”
“But you’re not a Guildie.”
“So I didn’t graduate. Doesn’t matter, I’m still one in spirit.”
“Even so, there’s more to it than that, I’m thinking,” Rheinborne responded.
“Oh, you think that, do you?” Marlaina said, hopping off the counter. She marched up to Rheinborne, gazed up defiantly at him. “Well, let me tell you something.” Her shoulders slumped. “Okay, you’d be right.”
“I’ll give you half of what Gwynne’s paying me for the mission. It’s a lot, I can tell you that.”
“No, it’s not money I want.” Marlaina sighed. “When this is all over, good or bad, I want to go with you.”
This surprised Rheinborne. “With me?”
“With all of you.” Marlaina faced the mirror. “I’ve been thinking about quitting this place for a long time now. There’s a lot of stuff going on here that I can’t be a part of anymore. And besides, you’re right. They’ll soon figure out everything I’ve done.”
Rheinborne contemplated the young woman’s reflection. There was a sincerity in her face, and a trace of regret.
“All right,” he said. “We’ll take you.”
Marlaina flashed a red-lipped smile. She turned from the mirror, went to the door and opened it a few inches. After a moment she closed it again, shook her head. “Now they’re both asleep,” she said. “I suppose we might be in here for a little longer.”
“Let’s talk logistics, then,” Rheinborne said. “We’re probably going to need some outside assistance. Who can you call on? There’s bound to be some Guild members around.”
“There are, but they won’t stick their necks out for me. It’s not a problem, though; I know some people here at the hotel who’ll help us.”
“Can they be trusted?”
“Absolutely.”
“Are they friends of yours?”
Marlaina nibbled her lower lip, cast her gaze at the floor. “Not entirely,” she said.
“Then how do you know they won’t compromise the operation
?”
Marlaina glanced in the direction of the door. She pulled Rheinborne closer to her and whispered, “You mustn’t tell Tahla what I’m about to tell you. Promise?”
“Yes. What is it?”
“Okay, the thing is, the hotel has started to hire a lot of, um, unregistered offworlders. Part of my job is to make them look legal.”
Rheinborne drew back from her. That was something he didn’t expect. “You mean, you provide them with false identification?”
“Hey, it’s how I got your identicards so fast.”
A chill came over Rheinborne as he realized what she was proposing. “Please don’t say that you’re going to blackmail them into helping us.”
“What I make legal, I can make un-legal.”
“Forget that, then,” Rheinborne said. “You’ll have to find another way.”
“Blake, listen. The only other way is honest bribery, but I don’t have enough cash on hand for what we’d need. And it’s too late to shuffle around accounts, at least not without attracting attention.”
Rheinborne accessed his ECM and checked the time: ten hours until the Skyward was due to arrive. He knew from experience that preparation for an op sometimes took up as much time as was allotted, and they hadn’t even discussed the details of how they would snatch Briggston.
Marlaina was about to say something more, but he turned away and faced the mirror. Coercing people into cooperation by the threat of deportation was unethical, but wasn’t it for the greater good?
He gave a rueful shake of his head. How many unjust acts had been justified by those words?
Now he became aware that Marlaina had resumed speaking, and she was saying something about how all the hotels in the region began to illegally hire offworlders because the Machine Controllers’ Union had raised the fees for leasing robot workers.
Rheinborne turned back to her, held up a hand for silence. He’d made up his mind, distasteful as the decision was.
“Fine,” he said. “We’ll do it your way. But there are conditions.”
“Sure, what?”
“We bring in as few people as possible. No one loses their job, and no one gets hurt.”
“I’ll make sure of it.”
“All right, then.” Rheinborne didn’t know how she could ensure that last condition, but it would be his responsibility, anyway.
He slid the bathroom door open a crack. ZT and Tahla still lay on the bed beside each other.
“Oh hey,” Marlaina said when he had quietly closed the door again. “Tahla told me that one of the prisoners on that ship is your girlfriend.”
“She was. Not anymore. My girlfriend, that is.” Rheinborne searched for the best way to describe their status. “Let’s just say, we had a history together.”
Marlaina tilted her head. “Ancient or modern?”
CHAPTER 37
JUST UNDER EIGHT HOURS later, Rheinborne walked along a bare, poorly-lit concrete corridor with three other men. All of them wore the gray-and-orange uniforms of the Arusia Hotel’s general maintenance staff. One of the men carried a duffel bag that contained ropes, breathing masks, and short sections of heavy plastic pipe.
“Comm check,” Rheinborne said.
“Rabbitface, standing by,” Marlaina said over his ECM.
“Skindiver, standing by,” said Tahla.
“Check. Trampler out,” Rheinborne said.
Earlier, he and Tahla had resynced their ECMs’ sectac mode. Marlaina’s module also had that feature, so she too was on the same secure channel. And as she had insisted on using code names, Rheinborne had to choose one for himself.
They had also established the details of the abduction. While Briggston’s daytime schedule was varied, he always went down to the casino at 10 o’clock in the evening, accompanied by four bodyguards. Four others remained in his suite on the 30th floor. Briggston and his group would be using a private lift, and that’s where they would be intercepted.
Rheinborne and the other men came to a stop at an unmarked lift door.
“This is Trampler, in position now,” he said. “Rabbitface, status of target?”
“He’s just left the room, heading down the hall,” came Marlaina’s reply. “Get ready.”
“All right, let’s mask up,” Rheinborne said to his crew. The name patches on their uniforms identified the men as Krepler, Lenn, and Sontaz; his own uniform was blank.
Krepler unzipped the duffel bag, handed out the breathing masks. They were necessary because just after Briggston and the others entered the private lift, a chemical irritant gas (concocted by a member of the hotel’s cleaning staff) would issue forth from the vents. This would cause someone to hit the panic button; Marlaina would capture the call and send the lift car to an emergency exit on the 28th floor, where Rheinborne and his men now waited.
When Briggston exited the car, Rheinborne would isolate and subdue him. The others would force the bodyguards back into the car, which would return to the top floor and be locked into position. Homemade ECM jammers had already been installed up there (and within the car itself) to prevent any of Briggston’s people from making calls.
“They’ve summoned the lift,” Marlaina reported. “It’s coming up now.”
After Rheinborne had fitted the breathing mask over his nose and mouth, Krepler passed out the pipe sections. These were the only weapons available, given the hotel’s strict security policies.
“Everyone good?” Rheinborne asked. The other masked men nodded, gave thumbs-up signs.
A minute or so passed, then Marlaina said that the lift had arrived and that everyone had boarded.
“Okay, it’s going down now,” she said.
Once Briggston had been acquired, they would take him down to the loading dock. There, an APV would be waiting to transport them to a disused bunker on the spaceport grounds, where Tahla and ZT waited. After that, Marlaina would facilitate the negotiations with Prester and Norland when the Skyward arrived.
“Activating the gas in three...two...one,” said Marlaina.
Rheinborne glanced around at the others, then focused on the lift door. When it opened, they’d only have a few seconds to separate Briggston from his guards.
“Hold on. Something’s wrong. The gas didn’t release!”
“Are you sure?” Rheinborne asked.
“Yes, I’m sure! I’m looking at them right now. Nothing’s happened!”
“Red flare!” Rheinborne shouted, using their code phrase for abort mission and get to safety.
At once, an arm wrapped around his throat and a pipe came at his face. He parried the blow with his own pipe, drove an elbow into the gut of the man behind him and whirled free, skittering back along the corridor.
“Get him!” Krepler yelled.
Rheinborne’s fear had come true. They’d hadn’t been trustworthy, after all. He let the men charge, then delivered a solid kick to Krepler’s chest. As the man went down, Rheinborne blocked Lenn’s pipe attack and punched his throat, sending him gagging to the floor. So much for no one getting hurt.
A hard blow between Rheinborne’s shoulder blades shocked him. He spun around, barely avoided Sontaz’s second swing. Rheinborne sprang up and tackled the man, slammed him into the wall. Sontaz’s head bounced against the concrete, and he went limp.
With an angry cry, Krepler launched himself up and seized Rheinborne from behind. Rheinborne stomped the man’s foot and shook him off. Krepler came at him again and the two grappled.
Rheinborne found himself up against the lift door. Krepler’s grip was too strong, so Rheinborne braced himself and head-butted the other man. The impact sent stars dancing in Rheinborne’s vision, but it caused Krepler to let go. Rheinborne grabbed the back of Krepler’s neck, yanked down hard and brought his knee up at the same time, smashing it into the man’s face. Krepler dropped to the floor and lay still.
Rheinborne leaned on the lift door, drew in a ragged breath. He noticed that he had dropped his pipe at some point during the figh
t. An absurd thought, but—
The was a sliding motion across his back, and he found himself toppling to the rear. A number of hands supported him, then he was flung forward onto the floor of the corridor. He thrust his arms out to arrest his fall, but bodies piled atop him and crushed him down. Men’s voices jumbled together: “Is that him?” “Yeah, get him inside, hurry!” “There’s rope in this bag.” “Good, bring it, tie him up!”
Weak from his fight with the workers, Rheinborne had no strength left to resist these new assailants. His hands were tied behind his back, then he was dragged inside the lift car, hauled upright, and made to face an older gentleman who stood in a corner of the car.
“Mr. Rheinborne!” the man said. “You’re supposed to be dead.”
“Mr. Briggston,” said Rheinborne. “I’ve been wanting to talk with you.”
“Plenty of time for that, I’m sure,” Briggston replied.
The man looked just like his photo in the file that Marlaina had assembled. He was taller than Rheinborne expected, towering over himself by at least a foot. And though his dark green business suit and well-wrinkled skin gave him the appearance of a cultured grandfather, Briggston had more or less murdered his way up the ranks of the organization.
Rheinborne looked over his shoulder. Two of the crime lord’s tough-faced bodyguards held him fast. Two others remained outside in the corridor.
“Sir,” one of them said, and gestured to the workers who lay on the floor. “What about them?”
“See to it that they’re taken care of,” Briggston said, “then get over to the spaceport. I want my ship ready to take off within the hour. Edwards, go with him.”
The two men acknowledged the orders. Briggston touched the control panel, and the doors closed. The lift began to ascend.
“I know about the comm jammer things,” said Briggston. “We left them on, so don’t bother trying to ping out.”
It hadn’t yet occurred to Rheinborne to try, but he did so now. As expected, his ECM reported a connection failure. Still, he hoped that his warning had given Marlaina enough time to flee, given that she had been stationed in their hotel room. Tahla and ZT stood a better chance, being located in a remote part of the spaceport.