Persephone Station

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Persephone Station Page 32

by Stina Leicht


  “I’m sorry. I went back,” Kennedy said. “I thought I heard someone cry for help. But I was wrong.” Once again, she understood she wasn’t particularly good at lying. It required far too deep an understanding of human interactions.

  She entered the maintenance tunnel and edged past, hoping that Angel wouldn’t stop and question her further.

  Enid said, “You should’ve let us know.” Her heart rate and expression seemed to indicate a relaxation of tension.

  “Is something wrong with your com?” Angel asked. “We’ve been trying to reach you. We don’t have a lot of time. We need to get everyone out of here.”

  Kennedy blinked. Zhang must have temporarily blocked my intersuit communications. “I haven’t noticed any issues.”

  “I should check it in transit,” Paulie said. “Just in case.”

  “I’ve Annalee on the com,” Angel said. “She wants to speak with you.”

  “Did she say why?” Kennedy asked.

  Angel frowned. “I’m afraid not.”

  “Oh,” Kennedy said. “Forward the connection, then.”

  Angel nodded.

  “M. Liu?” Annalee asked.

  “How is Shrike?” Kennedy asked. “Was there any more trouble?”

  “None,” Annalee said.

  A plan began to form in Kennedy’s mind. “Is Takagi aware of your changed allegiance?”

  Annalee said, “As far as they know, we’re still one big happy family.”

  “Excellent,” Angel said. She seemed to catch on to what Kennedy was implying. “And where is Takagi now?”

  “Their flight path indicates they’re headed off-planet,” Annalee said. “They’ll arrive at the station within the hour.”

  “Were there any standing orders for after the completion of the mission?” Angel asked.

  “We were to rendezvous here tomorrow,” Annalee said. “No new orders were issued. I can put in a call. With Reese gone, I guess that leaves me in charge. As far as Takagi is concerned.”

  “Let’s not disabuse Takagi of that idea, then,” Angel said.

  Annalee said, “Glad we’ve got that worked out. I’ve a com waiting, M. Liu. It’s from Brynner. She says her name is Sarah Wolfe.”

  “Connect us,” Kennedy said. She left her suit link with the others in place. After a short beep indicating the connection had been successful, she continued. “Sarah?”

  “Vissia has Rosie,” Sarah said. “They were captured during the attack on the Serrao-Orlov building.”

  “This just gets better and better,” Angel said. “Do you know if they’re still alive?”

  “No word,” Sarah said. “But I think it’s safe to assume they are. Vissia is a bitch, but she’s a smart bitch. If she kills Rosie, it’ll only destabilize the city power structure. That makes everyone harder to control.” She let out a short laugh. “Not that things are much in order at the moment.”

  “Understood,” Angel said.

  “Rosie left me quite the to-do list,” Sarah said.

  “I bet,” Angel said.

  “Kennedy? I think it’s time to bring Planetary up to date. We’ve delayed it as long as we can,” Sarah said.

  The Emissaries turned to Kennedy with surprised expressions. Kirby was one of the few who didn’t look shocked.

  “Jess said they were sending someone, but I didn’t know it was you,” she said.

  “I was sent to investigate rumors of indigenous sentient beings on Persephone,” Kennedy said. She motioned to the Emissaries standing nearby. “Clearly, it isn’t a mere rumor. Sarah? I must talk to the Emissaries before proceeding.”

  “Ah. Gotcha,” Sarah said.

  “Let me call you back,” Kennedy said.

  “Do it quick,” Sarah said. “Things are pretty hot around here.”

  “Understood,” Kennedy said.

  “Angel? I’ve a new gig for Kurosawa,” Sarah said.

  “Unfortunately… Kurosawa is gone,” Angel said.

  “Shit,” Sarah said. “That’s it, then.”

  Angel stared at Shrike. “I may have alternative transport. What do you need?”

  “There was an explosion at the port. It’s closed right now. There’s no telling how much damage was done. We’re grounded here,” Sarah said. “Even if I could spare one of the other crews to get Rosie, I can’t get anyone in the air. Would you—”

  “We’re on our way as soon as Shrike is ready,” Angel said. She turned to Kirby. “Change of plan. We have to move the wounded to Hadley’s Hope Shrike is making a trip up top.”

  Kirby nodded once and walked off, presumably to make arrangements.

  “Thank you,” Sarah said.

  “No need,” Angel said. “I owe Rosie.”

  “Thank you, nonetheless,” Sarah said, and cut her connection.

  “Ah, Boss?” Annalee asked. “If we’re headed up-station, I’ve got a request.”

  There was a moment’s silence. Kennedy looked to Angel and raised an eyebrow. Angel pointed to herself and shook her head no.

  Oh. Annalee means me, Kennedy thought. “Yes? What is it?”

  “Protection from whatever back door you used to get into Big Bertha,” Annalee said. “I’m not going into another fight only to have my suit hacked.”

  “Is that all?” Kennedy asked. The request was reasonable.

  “For now,” Annalee said. “But after I have some time to think, the list may be longer.”

  Kennedy said, “I’ll take care of it.”

  With that done, Kennedy looked for Kirby and found her on Hadley’s Hope, organizing the new evacuation details.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt,” Kennedy said. “But we need to talk about something important. Can we go outside?”

  Kirby turned. Her brows pressed together, and the corners of her mouth curled down. At that moment, it occurred to Kennedy that the Emissaries knew more about human motivations and emotions than she did. She suddenly understood that the feeling she was having was envy.

  I have more in common with Kirby than I do Angel, she thought. She decided she should consult with Kirby about humans at a later date.

  “Is something wrong?” Kirby asked.

  “I’d… rather not do this here,” Kennedy said. What she had to say would be complicated enough without having to deal with the reactions of more than one Emissary.

  “Very well,” Kirby said. “I’ll join you in a minute.”

  Kennedy nodded and retreated to an out-of-the-way spot at the edge of the woods. Somewhere not too far from the bustle of activity—just in case Kirby was needed—but not close enough that they could be overheard. Kennedy watched the preparations as she waited. The remaining Emissaries and mercenaries were prioritizing the wounded into groups. The first to leave for Ileòke would be the most seriously injured. The healthy would begin the journey on foot and be picked up along the way. With only two small ships to implement the evacuation, multiple journeys would be required.

  Kennedy and Kirby emerged from Hadley’s Hope. Angel drifted over, apparently intent on joining the conversation.

  “What did you need to talk about?” Kirby asked.

  Repeating the cover story Zhang had provided was more comfortable the third time Kennedy had to recite it. It seemed that repetition was a key factor in a comfortable lie. She filed that information for later analysis.

  “The Council has been debating what we should do since Rosie informed us you were here,” Kirby said. “Speaking for myself, I believe it’s time.”

  “Bringing in the URW is the only move you have remaining,” Kennedy said. “If your existence is revealed, Vissia will be less likely to attempt genocide.”

  “She certainly won’t be able to get away with it,” Angel said. “Not without a whole lot of pointed questions. Emphasis on pointed.”

  “You believe the government would protect us?” Kirby asked.

  Angel looked away. “There are no guarantees. And we’re awfully far from the capital. But knowing how much the
URW frowns on corporations taking advantage of indigenous peoples, it’s definitely a mess that Vissia will think twice about stepping in.”

  Kennedy turned to Kirby. “What would you like for me to do?”

  “Hasn’t the choice been made for us?” Kirby sighed. “You are a Planetary agent. You’re here. You’ve seen us. It isn’t as if you’ll lie to your superiors.”

  Kennedy felt her chest squeeze tight. The ache returned. I wish it didn’t have to be this way. “The report is written but not filed. Your options are few; that is true. But I’m willing to edit my report should you require it.” The pretext of choice was better than nothing.

  Nodding, Kirby said, “I don’t have the authority to make that decision.” The despair in her tone was slightly less evident. “I must consult with the others on the Council.”

  “You have five minutes,” Kennedy said.

  30

  TIME: 12:05

  DAY: MONDAY

  OGENTH

  Sukyi’s hand felt too hot. The backs of Angel’s eyes burned with tears she didn’t dare shed. Sukyi hated displays of sorrow or concern when it came to her health. It triggered bad memories. Angel didn’t blame her. Too often pity was disguised as sympathy. The two of them had an understanding, hashed out years before. And Angel did her best to keep to the terms of that agreement, even if she failed from time to time. It made saying goodbye for what was likely the last time, according to Higbor’s educated guess, even more challenging.

  Doctors have been predicting her death for three decades, Angel thought. How is now any different? The blur in her vision and the lump in her throat threatened to betray her, nonetheless. “Hey.”

  “Hey, yourself.” Sukyi’s pupils were enlarged and her skin had gone almost the color of slate. Her words were almost painkiller-slurred. She took in air for another more lengthy response, but a series of coughs stopped her.

  Angel grew alarmed at the deep, gurgling wheeze. Not knowing what to else to say, she squeezed Sukyi’s hand.

  “Looks like I’m tapping out on you,” Sukyi said.

  “It’s okay. I can handle it from here,” Angel said with a forced smile. “Rest. You need it.”

  Sukyi swallowed. “Sorry to let you down.”

  “You haven’t,” Angel said. She turned her head and blinked the sting away.

  “This isn’t how the story goes. I know,” Sukyi said. It was almost a whisper. “The faithful hound is supposed to die in a valiant fight. While protecting their family from danger.”

  “As you pointed out earlier,” Angel said with a sniff, “that analogy doesn’t apply. You’re not a pet.” She let the part about family stand.

  Sukyi let out a small harrumph and closed her eyes with a wince. “About Achebe’s father—”

  “You don’t have to tell me shit.”

  “His name is Wesley Todd.”

  Angel blinked. “Sergeant Wesley Todd?”

  Smiling with her eyes closed, Sukyi nodded. “It’s a bit on the nose of me. But he’d have appreciated the gesture.”

  Angel made her question a statement. “He’s dead.”

  “In a skirmish with some pirates the week before I met you.”

  The uncharacteristic levels of recklessness she’d demonstrated that first month began to make sense.

  Angel asked, “Did he know about Achebe?”

  “He most certainly did.” Sukyi took yet another labored breath. “We were going to settle down. On Thandh, of all places. He’d already bought a piece of land outside of Amai-Oka.” She swallowed. “I buried him there. He preferred to live planetside. Said he liked the smell of real air and the warmth of a sun on his face. He had the best sense of humor. Was tall and built like one of your ground pounders. So no one suspected. He was patient. And thoughtful. And kind. Had a cute butt. Was great with his hands, too.” The corners of her mouth briefly curled with mischief and then relaxed. She hesitated before continuing. “I-I loved him so much. I wanted to die. Was well on my way until you stopped me.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Angel said. She wasn’t entirely sure that was the right thing to say.

  Shrugging, Sukyi struggled on. “Shit happens.” She took another labored breath. “At least I got to know you.”

  The lump in Angel’s throat made her choke. “We’ll—we’ll talk about this later.”

  Someone else coughed. She turned.

  Jess and a second Emissary Angel did not know waited in the aisle with expectant expressions.

  “Sure. I only need a little sleep,” Sukyi said. “You’ve Rosie to find. And Vissia to execute.”

  “I’m not an assassin.”

  “Do me a favor,” Sukyi said.

  “Anything.”

  “Take Achebe to see her father when she’s ready.” Sukyi tugged at the red scarf around her neck and pulled out a long chain. There was a plain silver ring on it. She slipped it off and placed it in Angel’s open palm—chain and all. “The coordinates are engraved on it.”

  “I will. Eventually. But you’re not going to—”

  “I know. I know,” Sukyi said, opening her eyes. She registered the presence of witnesses with a small, visible shock. Her gaze burned with a fierce determination as if the rest of the conversation would require the last of her strength. “This is nothing. I’ll get over it. But… keep the ring anyway. For luck.”

  Angel nodded. She let the necklace drop around her neck. The ring and chain were still warm with the heat of Sukyi’s fever. “I’ll give it back to you when I return.”

  “Save Rosie,” Sukyi said. “They seem a good sort. For a crime boss.”

  “You would know. You’re a good sort for a thief and a smuggler,” Angel said.

  “Don’t forget confidence woman.” Sukyi winked.

  “Oh, I won’t,” Angel said.

  “Go away now,” Sukyi said. “You’re exhausting me.”

  Angel stood up and started to leave but then she changed her mind. “You’re the best sister I never had. I love you, Sukyi Edozie.”

  A tired grin spread across Sukyi’s expression. “I love you, too, Angel de la Reza.”

  Heading for the exit ramp, Angel almost made it outside before grief finally burst through her remaining composure. She slapped a hand over her mouth to trap a loud sob. The ache in her throat—made worse from holding back her sorrow—doubled. Tears flooded down her cheeks. Her nose was running. She reached in a pocket for a handkerchief that wasn’t there. She resorted to wiping her face on the inside of her elbow. Eventually, she regained control of herself. There was one more goodbye to manage before she could collapse into misery.

  Designed for a team no larger than fifteen, Hadley’s Hope had the same basic layout as Kurosawa. Angel entered via the cargo ramp. The wounded—as many as the ship could hold—were strapped down on either side of the center aisle and in the cargo area. The medic, Higbor, was stooped, fussing over a patient. Angel scanned sleeping and pain-laced faces until she found the one she was looking for.

  Lou lay unconscious on her back. Her face was grey beneath the bandages wrapped around her head. Someone had wiped away most of the blood. Bruises darkened her right cheek. Unlike Sukyi, Lou’s breathing was soft and regular. If she didn’t know better, Angel would’ve thought she was napping.

  She touched the back of Lou’s hand with her fingertips. Compared to Sukyi’s, Lou’s skin was cool and dry. “I’m going away for a little while. But I’m coming back. Don’t worry. I’ll get you home to Erik and Brendan. I promise.”

  She sensed someone approach from behind.

  “Kennedy says your CA connection to Shrike is set. She’s forged documentation for our weapons and that mech. We’ll need it to get past dock security,” Enid said. “Paulie, Kennedy, Miri, and Annalee volunteered. Annalee insists this one is on her. Can you believe it?”

  Angel said, “We’re not taking passengers. People are going to get dead.”

  “Miri is a pilot. Has to be her or Jackson. No one with any sense will tru
st Jackson,” Enid said. “I can’t fly Shrike. You saw Kennedy’s piloting skills. We’re lucky she didn’t destroy the ship. Even if I could talk Miri out of it, we need her.”

  “All right,” Angel said, and sighed.

  “Kirby agreed to let Kennedy file her report, too,” Enid said. “Vissia is about to have a very bad day.”

  I can only hope it’s as bad as mine, Angel thought, staring at Lou’s still form. Maybe even worse. “Go on. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Enid nodded.

  After one last squeeze of Lou’s hand, Angel left. She went to the head and had a good cry. When the press of emotions felt more manageable, she boarded Shrike and settled onto the copilot’s couch. From the pilot’s seat, Miri gave her a brief nod and then continued with her preflight checks.

  Miri wasn’t anywhere near as physically imposing as her mother. The resemblance was strong, nonetheless. The blond hair framing her pale face was shoulder-length, parted in the middle, and straight. Like Beak, she moved with an athletic grace. Also like Beak, she was prone to silence.

  At the moment, Angel didn’t mind. She didn’t think she could handle a nervous conversation like the ones she used to share with Lou before a job. It would be too much like replacing a friend. Instead, Angel focused on her own preflight tasks and took in the differences in the details.

  One substitution was enough.

  Shrike couldn’t have been more than a few months old. The chemical perfume of new vehicle lingered. Angel found it pleasant even though she knew it was outgassing plastic, industrial adhesives, and formaldehyde. Pleasant and off-putting. Even a little toxic. A broad panorama of Persephone was clear and sharp from the lush copilot’s seat—the viewscreen resolution being ten times what she was accustomed to. The electronic systems were faster and more efficient. Shrike didn’t have the same computational problems that Kurosawa had had either. Linking her CA had been a snap—Shrike had even tweaked her CA, making it more efficient. What used to take Lou thirty minutes of patching had been finalized in seconds without human intervention. Kennedy had said that Shrike’s available memory was six times that of the old ship.

  None of that had made Angel more comfortable. It was strange to realize just how emotionally attached she’d become to Kurosawa. Sitting at Shrike’s copilot controls felt like a betrayal.

 

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