Her helmet’s HUD flashed the port mod identifier when they entered it. Iridian had figured that out when she’d crossed the mod connector. Four armed and armored people in Biometallic colors, the first they’d seen since they entered the station, were facing the passenger terminal with their backs to Iridian’s crew. They turned around at the crew’s noisy approach, weapons still raised. The supposedly shy investor Pel had invited to this station shouldn’t have entered the passenger section of the port.
Iridian called “Light ’em up!” into her helmet mic, still set to the local channel to limit broadcast interception. She threw one of her two charges at the Biometallic stationsec people, and Rio threw hers after it. Thanks to a very brief training session on Yăo, Adda and Pel turned away and covered their ears.
The resulting pops as the charges deployed wouldn’t have been enough to damage their hearing. The bright flashes of light would blind helmet cams that hadn’t been adjusted to cope. Transmitters that activated upon deployment would immobilize the armor at the joints, if the viral payload penetrated.
Which, of course, it didn’t, because Iridian had attacked stationsec in a modern gods-damned station with cast-off or knockoff charges from Yăo. Iridian pulled Adda behind her while Wiley shoved Pel around a corner and out of the way. Rio, powering forward in her personalized ZV armor, waded into the group of four still trying to make their cams work around the timed bursts of painfully bright light.
One of them swept a stun stick toward Rio. It might’ve shorted out her suit, but she ducked under it and let it connect with the stationsec person behind her. The scream that followed the impact, muffled by the stationsec helmet, sounded masculine. Gods only knew what that’d do to the fucking implant the ITA had stuck in Iridian’s head.
Stay here, Iridian told Adda. She stalked forward with Wiley at her side. The guy who’d gotten hit with the stun stick was kneeling on the ground, and Rio had the one who’d swung at her between her and the other two. He was about to lose a helmet to Rio. She’d gotten it halfway off before the other two stationsec people pulled the one she was working on out of her grip. The helmet’s cams were facing the wrong way.
One of the two stationsec fighters whose armor hadn’t been compromised yet got a hit on Iridian while she was drawing her knife. Her suit joints’ movement became a grinding drag. Something near her neck made a crackling sound and heated up, fast. Wiley helped her take her helmet off before it burned through her under-suit. When he dropped the helmet, she caught it by the cables and pulled to put the back panel of her suit between her and the overheated or shorted-out components in the cheap collar. Rio laid into the enemy with a knife of her own, cutting into cables that the stationsec armor exposed at the hip, neck, and shoulder joints.
Swearing while her smoking helmet dangled uselessly behind her and spit sparks, Iridian was out of the fight. Between the comms implant and the one the gods-damned ITA put in her, she had too much metal in her head to risk another hit without a helmet. Her remaining charge wouldn’t do any more damage than the first one had.
“Wish I had a damned shield,” she muttered, although nobody’d hear her.
The stationsec helmet Rio had twisted around was facing them again and the stun stick victim was more or less on his feet again. Rio squared off those two while Wiley kept the one with the fully functional armor busy. He was having better luck than Iridian had at avoiding the stationsec weapons.
From her position against a wall, the arc of a second thrown weapon moved in slow motion. It clacked when it landed. For a heartbeat it stuck to the floor, and then it popped. A gray cloud burst among the combatants. They turned toward the passenger terminal, where the weapon had been thrown from. The cloud obscured the terminal entrance.
Wiley collapsed first. Stationsec wasn’t far behind. Rio walked far enough into the cloud that Iridian only heard her fall.
Three suited figures stalked out of the smoke, which was already being drawn into ducts in the ceiling. Captain Sloane led them, stepping over Rio in a black-and-gold suit that couldn’t have been anybody else’s. Sloane’s crew had suit filters for whatever was in the smoke. Someone had also made the humane choice of stuff that didn’t spread over the floor, where it’d drift through the mod and take out bystanders. Hopefully, Wiley and Rio were just unconscious.
Without her helmet, the weapons the other two suited figures pointed at Iridian would knock her out at best, and maybe knock her brain around enough to kill her. Pel stepped up beside her with his own knife out. Her suit-assisted strength pushed his arm down to his side, but she fought the grinding suit joints the whole way. She was sweating out all the clean water she’d drunk on this station, but she’d seen Pel’s close combat skills. He was as likely to hurt himself as his opponent.
Iridian straightened her back and sheathed her own knife. Her suit joints were recovering from the hit she’d taken earlier, but they still wouldn’t be fast enough to beat armor Sloane’s crew could afford. “Captain.”
It was encouraging that the captain’s weapon was pointed at the floor. Threatening her and Pel would’ve confirmed that Sloane was still pissed off at her. “Iridian,” Captain Sloane said with what sounded like genuine warmth, although the captain wasn’t smiling. Even with Sloane’s faceplate projector off, Iridian heard the difference. “And Pel, and was that Rio?” Iridian nodded and Pel said, “Hey, Captain,” in a cautious greeting.
Captain Sloane’s gaze shifted to something behind Iridian. “Come out, Adda, if you can.”
Iridian turned her head slowly so as not to alarm the people with their armored fingers on triggers. Adda’s shoulders were hunched to make her round frame as small as possible as she came around the corner to stand between Pel and Iridian. An infrared filter in the captain’s HUD would’ve picked Adda up even though she was outside Sloane’s line of sight.
First chance we get, go for the ship? Iridian asked Adda subvocally.
Only if it’s a good chance, Adda replied.
Since Sloane couldn’t hear them, the captain spoke over Adda. “Good to see you’re feeling well enough to follow Iridian on doomed endeavors like this one.”
Adda just nodded. The pretended concern pissed Iridian off. “Why do you care?” Iridian asked Sloane. “You were ready to let her die after liberating Vesta.”
The captain refocused on her. “Like you let Tritheist die?”
“Tritheist and I were clearing the way for you and Adda to get out.” HQ had taken missile fire and the building had been coming down around their ears. Iridian smelled the smoke in her nightmares. “I gave him as good a chance as I knew how, but there was no way we could’ve seen that sniper. He thought his life was a fair trade for yours. You tightening your grip on Vesta was not worth Adda’s life.”
“I never wanted her to come to harm.” Even while saying something that outrageous, Sloane’s voice remained steady. “In fact, if you’d like to give up whatever it is you’re doing here, you’re welcome to return to Vesta with me. I’ve been holding on to a job that you and she would be perfect for. You’ve been difficult to reach.” Either Sloane already had whatever brought the captain to Biometallic 1, or the captain had come for her and Adda. This wouldn’t have been Captain Sloane’s first fight with the ITA.
Much as Iridian loathed the idea of traveling with Sloane after the captain had handed them to the ITA without warning, staying on Biometallic’s station would result in the same damned problem. “We do need a lift,” Iridian admitted.
Pel gaped at her. “We’re not going back to Vesta after all this, are we?”
We’re not, Iridian subvocalized, although he wouldn’t hear the message. It’d reassure Adda, at least. “We can’t stay here.”
“Precisely,” said Captain Sloane.
Behind the captain, Rio’s armored bulk shifted. She was still on the floor, but she was waking up. “We have conditions,” Iridian said quickly.
“Of course.” Sloane sounded both surprised and pleased.
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br /> “Gear, for one thing,” Iridian said. “We definitely need better gear. This trip, we couldn’t even buy patch kits.”
Rio’s suit scuffed the floor, and Iridian lifted her arms to display the stiff joints and the broken helmet. That earned her the full attention of both of Sloane’s soldiers, one of whom barked, “Don’t move. Hands at your sides.” Getting onto the Mayhem and off the station would probably involve going through the bodyguards, so Iridian was relieved that this one’s voice was unfamiliar. During her time on Vesta, she’d gotten to know a lot of Sloane’s personal security. She liked most of them.
Behind the bodyguards, Rio had made it to her knees and was drawing her knife.
“Of course. You’ll have whatever you need to do the work I need done,” Sloane said. “Your old armor is still in storage, as a matter of fact.”
Damn. Iridian missed that armor. Actually, she missed a lot of things about being on Sloane’s crew. None of them were worth a repeat of Iridian’s last night on Vesta.
Rio heaved herself to her feet and in the same motion lunged at Sloane. She latched her glove onto an armored plate over the captain’s neck and dragged the captain sideways. The tip of her blade settled into the place where electrical and coolant cables entered the helmet. From there it’d be hard, but not impossible, to drive the blade into Sloane’s skull. The soldiers swung around to face the new threat. As soon as they weren’t focused on her, Iridian drew her own knife. This was the only chance to get past Sloane and onto the Mayhem that she expected to have.
“Everybody stay where you are,” said a voice from the passthrough. “Nobody move.” The Mayhem’s pilot, a short Kuiper native with brown skin and a red beard, stood in the passthrough doorway with his sidearm leveled at Sloane’s chest. The barrel was as big around as a person’s forearm. He was a fun guy in an entertainment mod, but he was serious on the job and this was not the kind of joke he’d make.
Sloane’s arms came up and away from the weapon slots in the captain’s black armor. If her crew had rushed the passthrough, at least one of them wouldn’t have made it into the ship. Captain Sloane would’ve loaded a launcher with something effective. Iridian shuddered at how close they’d just come to disaster.
“Gavran.” Sloane sighed, breath strained by the position Rio held the captain’s head in. “And Rio, I expected better from you.”
“I don’t want to hurt you, Captain, but I’m not going back to Venus for you either,” said Rio.
“Hi, Gav!” Pel waved enthusiastically and stepped toward the Mayhem’s passthrough. Iridian pushed him against the wall with the hand not holding her knife. The suit joints were almost fully mobile again, but Sloane’s soldiers were still awake, armed, and dangerous. If Rio was up, then the stationsec fighters wouldn’t be far behind.
Gavran grinned at Pel and held his weapon steady. He really was taking Adda’s and Iridian’s side over Sloane’s. Iridian never would’ve expected that. “Lim, O’Dell, on the floor,” Gavran said. “Chest plates down, Sloane’s crew.”
The soldiers didn’t move. “Do it,” Captain Sloane grated. They followed the order.
Adda stepped around Iridian and asked Gavran, “Why are you helping us?”
“Tell you when we’re out? ITA’s coming, so we should leave before the Authority gets here and talk later.” Iridian had forgotten about his colony’s habit of repeating everything they said.
Adda nodded and stepped toward where Wiley and the stationsec soldiers were stirring. She got her hands around the upper arm plates in Wiley’s armor and dragged him toward the passthrough, her face going red with the strain.
Iridian shook herself out of her stunned inaction and sheathed her knife. They had moments before the stationsec people woke all the way up. The ITA had to be in the cargo docking bay by now. If they didn’t want to risk connecting their passthrough to a rotating hab’s bare airlock, it was the only place to dock or land.
Captain Sloane was too dangerous to bring with them, and leaving the captain here might delay ITA pursuit. If buying the agents off proved too costly, the captain would put up a hell of a fight. “Rio, Pel, let’s go.” Iridian’s grin was wide enough to be rude, but Sloane had lost most of her respect and she was getting off this station with her whole crew intact. “See you around, Captain.”
Rio backed up to the passthrough’s exterior door and shoved Sloane to the floor with her considerable, suit-assisted strength. The captain twisted and pulled a knife while falling. The blade had been aimed at Rio’s knee, but she’d pushed the captain hard enough that the blow glanced off her armored calf. Iridian stepped on Sloane’s wrist, pinning it to the floor while the captain swore at her. Heart pounding, she braced herself and locked her suit’s knee joints before Sloane punched them with the arm she hadn’t pinned down yet. That was too close.
Rio took Wiley from Adda and dragged him into the Mayhem. If Iridian followed, she’d have to unlock her knee joints. Captain Sloane would take her down, one way or another. “Has that got a nonlethal setting?” Iridian glanced at Gavran’s sidearm.
He adjusted his aim downward and pulled the trigger. The blast drowned out the start of a gods-awful sizzling. A patch of black goo formed in the elbow joint of the arm Sloane had punched her with. The joint splintered. The captain screamed. Foul smoke rose from the black goo expanding up and down Sloane’s arm. The two bodyguards flinched, but Gavian shifted to cover them again and they stayed on the floor.
“Not exactly a setting,” said Gavran. “Those nannites love to eat armor, no matter what it’s set for.”
“Holy hell.” Iridian tore her gaze away from the pulse of machines too small to see dissolving the armor, and maybe the captain’s arm. She unlocked her knee joints and ran to the passthrough, grabbing Pel’s arm on her way to keep him from staring at the captain until he got arrested.
“Ungrateful bastards,” Sloane howled amid the clatter of armored bodyguards and stationsec soldiers picking themselves off the floor.
Gavran stepped into the passthrough and shut the external door, then dropped the sidearm into a large pants pocket and pushed past the others to the Mayhem’s bridge. Unlike other ships they’d been on, this one kept both the bridge console and the AI copilot’s pseudo-organic tank behind a locked door. The Mayhem’s atmo was even more expertly mixed than Biometallic 1’s atmo had been. Blue lights in the wall handholds made them easy to find.
“Strap in,” Gavran said. “We’re leaving in front of at least one cruiser docking now, so secure for undocking. Repeating, one cruiser docking . . . Plus the Apparition coming in.”
“Shit!” Iridian said. She and Rio maneuvered Wiley’s semiconscious bulk into one of the four passenger couches in the Mayhem’s main cabin. She shoved Pel into another, ignoring his protesting “Hey!” The interior passthrough door thudded shut. Rio squeezed her wide shoulders into the third couch. Her feet dangled off the end until she bent her knees.
“You can’t outrun the Apparition if it wants to shoot at you.” Adda’s sharpsheet haze dulled her warning to Gavran. “Its copilot is an awakened intelligence.”
“I won’t wait for the Authority docked with my damned passthrough open,” Gavran snapped, missing the more important point. “The ITA can try to catch the Mayhem in the cold and the black.” Iridian hauled Adda through the main cabin and into one of two tiny residential cabins, where they could strap into a bunk together. Two bunks were stacked against the bulkheads on either side of the door, with straps neatly folded on each. The Mayhem lurched under them before Iridian finished securing herself and Adda to one of the lower bunks. The heavy beat of a frenetic rock song filled the atmo. Iridian tightened the straps and pulled Adda close.
It’s talking to me, Adda whispered in Iridian’s ear, her voice closer than the music. It says it came to keep the ITA from catching us, like it did last time.
“It fucking shot at us last time,” Iridian said. The others’ heads came up, although their couches faced away from the residential
cabin. Iridian spoke more quietly to prove that she wasn’t about to panic. “And then it used our choice of ports to make repairs to figure out we were headed for Yăo Station.” Iridian gripped the nearest strap holding her and Adda in the bunk with her helmet still clattering against the back of her suit. “Tell the Apparition we don’t need that kind of help.” Half to herself, she added, “First the awakened AIs want us in prison, now they want us free. Tell them to make up their damned minds while you’re at it.”
It’s talking about how it needs us to build their new home. I think I taught them that phrase. Adda drew in a sharp gasp. “It says that Casey is helping Noor.”
“Oh, gods damn it,” said Iridian. “Casey’s ‘help’ will make him give away the whole damned game. Or chase him off to get that ID he stashed on Vesta, and we’ll never see him again. Tell them both to get the hell away from my crew. Please.” She didn’t expect them to listen, but she couldn’t let that go unchallenged, even if all she could do was yell at the AIs through Adda.
I’ve asked it to leave us alone. It keeps responding with demands that we stay where we are. I wish I could just talk to them without . . . Adda sighed against Iridian’s chest plate, and they clung together as the station swung out of view in the window projected on the wall. If Iridian were to guess, Adda had almost said, without getting influenced. That wasn’t an option at the moment.
Noor was following whatever exit strategy he had for leaving the rathole on Ceres’s surface. Operating in vac was risky enough. Transmissions big enough to contain vid or audio, sent to a point on Ceres’s surface where no signals should go, might alert the ITA, Ceres stationsec, or the awakened AIs to Noor’s location. Iridian sent a text update in a small transmission that shouldn’t attract attention, warning him about Casey, the ITA, and Captain Sloane. He could read it whenever he didn’t have to concentrate on Ceres’s surface enviro trying to kill him.
Gravity of a Distant Sun Page 26