Jericho Falling

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Jericho Falling Page 18

by Jaleta Clegg


  "You have that complete of a datanet on Ophir?" Jasyn asked. She had not expected them to have much of anything. Ophir was too far away, too small.

  "Lowell's gift," Scholar said. "His message capsule is late. He usually sends one a month to me. The last one was two months ago. You aren't the only ones interested in Jericho. The encryption on that file was so convoluted it took me almost three weeks to break it."

  "So what is Jericho?" Jerimon asked.

  Scholar shrugged. "A colony that didn't want found. Mostly dismantled now. For some reason the colonists couldn't make it viable. They stuck it out for several hundred years and then abandoned it when contact was reestablished. What does it have to do with Dace?"

  "We picked up a passenger on Verrus," Jasyn said. "He was mind wiped. About the only coherent thing he said was Jericho. He had people shooting at him."

  "So of course, you picked him up and helped him escape," Scholar said, his grin growing again.

  "Dace did, yes," Jerimon agreed.

  "And now you are being chased and hunted because of him. Where is he?"

  "With Dace," Jerimon answered.

  "On your ship?"

  "We had to ditch them on Shamustel," Jasyn said. She was still angry over that, even if she understood why. "Dace said they'd find their way here."

  Scholar twitched his finger in the angry purple light, the screen blanked to blue again. He leaned back, chewing on a fingernail. "So, you came to me for help. You don't know what the problem is. The one person who might is missing. How am I supposed to help?"

  "You tell me and we'll both know," Jasyn said exasperated.

  He surprised her by laughing. He slapped his leg and gasped for breath. "I like you, Jerimon's sister. Almost as much as Spacer Chick."

  "The name is Jasyn," Jasyn said. He wasn't listening.

  "Did Dace ever work things out with her Patrol Commander?" Scholar asked Jerimon.

  "Definitely," Jerimon said with a suggestive grin.

  "Why didn't you go to him for help? He's got more pull than I'll ever have."

  "We don't know where he is," Jerimon said.

  "Can you help us or not?" Jasyn demanded. She was wasting her time here. Whatever help Dace had thought Scholar could offer, Jasyn had her doubts it would materialize.

  "You haven't told me what you want me to do yet," Scholar said mildly. "Did Dace leave any clues for you?"

  "We've got a data cube," Jerimon said. "It's just got a message from Lowell on it. She played it. Not much help there, I'm afraid."

  "You bring it with you?" Scholar asked.

  "It's back on the ship," Jerimon said.

  Jasyn could have slapped herself. Lowell had to have buried more information on the cube. They hadn't thought to look.

  Scholar made the screen disappear then scooped the thin pad from the floor. "I feel like some exercise. You have good connections on your ship?"

  "Better than standard," Jasyn answered.

  "Then shall we go?" Scholar said, standing up and stretching.

  She wasn't sure about this. But Jerimon and Dace both trusted Scholar. And so did Lowell, apparently. She'd met Doggo briefly. He'd tagged along to Xqtl with Dace. She decided they couldn't do any more harm. Jerimon was already leading the way back out of the dilapidated warehouse. Scholar waited for her, somehow sensing she was the one with the decision power. He fell into step beside her. Doggo followed at their heels.

  "Keep things safe," Scholar said to Marko as they ducked through the unorthodox door into the street.

  The sun was a swollen red ball on the horizon. The heat was beginning to fade. People were starting to stir. The streets had the occasional pedestrian. Ground cars whirred past, moving slowly as their engines labored in the heat.

  Jasyn pulled out her com and called the ship. "We're bringing a couple of guests for dinner," she told Clark, trying to sound casual for the benefit of anyone listening in. Being around Dace had made her more paranoid. Not nearly as bad as Dace, but she still had started taking precautions that she would never have thought of before.

  "You're going to feed us?" Doggo asked. "Spacer food?" He looked skeptical.

  "We cook our own," she answered.

  Doggo's grimace changed to a smile. "Hot bam. Real food, Scholar. Told you Spacer Chick and her friends were high class."

  Scholar didn't answer. He slouched along, looking like just another teenage punk roaming the streets. They made an odd group, Jasyn thought. They were getting a few looks that were longer than glances but not quite outright stares. Her inner sense of danger perked up.

  "Something's not right," she muttered.

  "You're being paranoid," Jerimon answered. "Relax. We're light years away from trouble."

  "When was the last time I told you you were an idiot?"

  "Jasyn, relax. You're as bad as Dace."

  "She's right," Scholar said quietly. "Someone's following us." He twitched a finger. "We'll find out who soon enough."

  Several boisterous teens shifted away from a shady spot near a building and cut across the street behind Scholar. If Jasyn hadn't been watching, she would never have seen the slight signal Scholar passed to a young woman in too much makeup and not enough clothing.

  They kept walking, moving casually towards the port. The heat rising from the pavement made Jasyn wilt. Sweat trickled down her back. She rubbed her hands along her thighs, wiping her damp palms as dry as she could.

  The ship was closed, the hatch light blinking yellow, not surprising in the heat. The port looked deserted. A single refueling truck crawled slowly away from the Phoenix. The other ships showed little sign of life. A cargo bay hung open on one, a crewman sat on the lip of the door, waiting. Jasyn couldn't help but think he was watching them a bit too closely. She lost sight of him as they neared the ship.

  She opened the hatch, letting out a stream of cooler air. They hurried inside, trying to look as if they were merely escaping the heat. Scholar shut the hatch on Jerimon's heels.

  Larella stood next to the galley. Good smells rose from a pot steaming on the cooking unit. Jasyn could see Clark in the cockpit, working on the ship's computer. He typed a command and swiveled around to face them. The screen behind him went blank.

  Clark came out of the cockpit as Jerimon made introductions. Jasyn wrapped her arm around his waist and leaned against him. He rubbed one hand up and down her back.

  "Someone was following us," she told Clark when Jerimon had finished.

  "Doggo will find out who later," Scholar said.

  "Dace sent us to find you," Clark said. "Have a seat and tell us why."

  "Tell me what your problem is and I'll see what I can do to help," Scholar countered as he seated himself at the table.

  Doggo had already made himself at home. He was sitting, his concentration focused on the food Larella dished.

  They sat, filling all six seats around the table. Larella passed the plates, blushing as they made appreciative noises when they tasted her cooking.

  "I told him about Mart," Jasyn told Clark. "And about Jericho. I don't know what else there is to tell."

  "Do we trust him?" Clark asked.

  "Dace does," Jerimon answered.

  Scholar ate, an amused smile playing around the corners of his mouth. "Am I on trial here?"

  "You pass," Clark decided. "Doggo we already know is devoted to Dace."

  "I like all three spacer chicks," Doggo said, his mouth full. "And you, of course," he added offhand to Clark and Jerimon.

  Clark and Jasyn summarized what had happened as they ate. Scholar's slight grin didn't change. By the time they finished their story, the food was also finished.

  "Let's get started," Scholar said. "You got the data cube and a link into your computer?"

  Clark nodded and went to get the cube. Scholar went into the cockpit and spread his pad out over the scan controls. Clark handed him the cube. Scholar lined it up in the center of his pad. He tapped a few points. The screen sprang in the air, blinking
blue and green. He reached in and snagged a blue thread of light and twisted it. The screen shifted, data pouring across it in a torrent of text. Clark sat at the ship's computer, with its more conventional interface, and started typing. Jasyn joined them, slipping into the pilot's chair. Their conversation was hard to follow, full of jargon and terms she'd never heard. Lights flickered and glowed in Scholar's globe while images and text scrolled on the other computer.

  Doggo and Jerimon helped Larella clean up the dishes. They pulled out a deck of cards and explained the rules of Comets to Doggo. Jasyn noticed Larella didn't mention the cheat codes they'd worked out. Jerimon still had no idea how they kept beating him.

  She pulled her feet into the chair, curling her legs to the side. Ghost appeared, her plump belly making her slow. She jumped into Jasyn's lap and rubbed her chin across Jasyn's hand. Once Jasyn started stroking the cat, she curled up, purring loudly.

  "I'm in," Scholar announced. "Lowell piggybacked an entire cache in his message. As Doggo would say, hot bam."

  The ball of colored light sparkled with all colors, a psychedelic rainbow of information. Scholar's hands played through the light, tweaking and pulling. Clark sat back, watching him work.

  Time passed. Ghost quit purring and fell asleep. Jasyn ran her hands through the feather soft gray fur. The card game in the other room grew spirited. Jerimon was losing again. Jasyn shook her head, her long hair sliding freely across her shoulders. Clark reached over and ran his hand through her hair.

  The viewscreen, showing the sky outside, slowly faded from blue to orange to black. Stars blinked, bright in the dark night. The port lights were few and scattered.

  "Hot bam," Scholar said, his attention still focused on the colored lights he manipulated. "Got it," he said and leaned back, stretching out cramped muscles. He swiveled his chair to face them. "From what Lowell sandwiched into his message, you're in deep trouble. For some reason, Jericho was supposed to stay secret. Mart betrayed them. Jericho was raided, made to look like pirates were to blame. Those who escaped scattered through the Empire, hiding. Someone wants them, at least their genetics."

  "Why?" Clark asked, when Scholar didn't continue.

  "Lowell didn't include that," Scholar said. "They're the key to a plot. Another secret base codenamed Babylon. I integrated your library into mine. There are no references to Babylon in yours. I think I know where I can find it, though."

  "Why would we want to do that?" Jasyn asked.

  "Because you're being framed for treason," Scholar said. "This is deep. It goes all the way up the food chain. You're only the little fish at the bottom. They're trying to take Lowell down and everyone in his organization with him."

  "How high is Lowell, really?" Jasyn asked.

  "All the way to the Emperor," Scholar answered her. "There are only a few dozen people in the galaxy with as much power as he holds. And less than a dozen with the resources to frame him like this."

  "You don't think he's guilty of treason?" Clark asked.

  "Lowell? When the Emperor can't wipe his nose without Lowell knowing? He's got all the power he wants. He doesn't need to take out the Emperor. Besides," Scholar grinned, "I like him."

  "It still doesn't make sense," Jasyn sighed. "Why Dace?"

  "Why not?" Scholar shrugged. "Lowell wanted her to retrieve his package. Did she?"

  "I don't know," Jasyn said. "She said Shamustel was a trap. She didn't say more."

  "Then I'll have to guess what was in it," Scholar said, turning back to his dancing lights. Without warning, all the lights flashed red. He froze for a split second. Then his hands dived into the light, moving rapidly. The lights twisted and snarled around his fingers. Angry reds ran jagged through the other colors.

  "What?" Clark asked when Scholar slowed down.

  "Two ships just downshifted," Scholar said. "They're after you. We've got maybe two hours to get out of here."

  "We?" Jasyn caught the word.

  "I'm part of Lowell's organization," Scholar said. "Probably the most valuable piece although they wouldn't know that. Doggo," he called over his shoulder.

  Doggo immediately snapped to attention, dropping his cards and springing up from the table.

  "Find out who was following us," Scholar said. "And tell the others to split, go home and don't go near headquarters." He turned back to Jasyn. "You have room for extras? Five of us don't have homes to go to."

  Jasyn met Clark's eyes. He nodded imperceptibly. She nodded to Scholar.

  "Doggo?" Scholar called. "Fetch my things and the other permanent inhabitants."

  Doggo tossed a salute at Scholar and slipped out of the ship.

  "We heard," Jerimon said coming into the cockpit. He reached over Clark for a headset. "Preflight? I'll take the engine."

  "Where are we going?" Jasyn said, trading seats with her husband. Ghost complained loudly about being dumped on the floor until Larella scooped her up.

  "You know somewhere we could hide for a few days?" Scholar asked. "Two or three days and I can work out where Babylon is hidden."

  "What about Dace?" Larella asked.

  "If she's coming here, she won't have a chance," Scholar said.

  "So we run and hope to give her a chance," Jasyn said. "Why does this feel so familiar?" She brought up the nav screen and typed. "How about a waystar?" she asked Scholar. "There's one about thirty light years away."

  "Waystar?" Scholar asked.

  "Gypsy hiding holes," Jasyn explained. "No one outside of our clan knows about this one. Brown dwarf that doesn't show up on official maps."

  "Sounds perfect," he said. "What can I do to help?"

  "Get your people moved in and secure as fast as possible," Jasyn said. "Larella can show you where to put them."

  He nodded and followed Larella into the lounge.

  "Maybe we should have installed the gun ports," Clark said as he ran the engine through calibration checks.

  "And give them an open invitation to shoot?" Jasyn shook her head. "All the way to the Emperor. Dace doesn't ever do it halfway, does she?"

  Chapter 23

  The feeling in the ship was strained. It was just too small. I was hiding in the cockpit, pretending I had some privacy. If I locked myself in the bathroom, someone would start banging on the door before long. Mart slept, his heart and breath in rhythm with my own. He'd tried to apologize. I wouldn't let him. The bond between us wasn't his fault. The situation wasn't his fault. Whatever he'd done before, he wasn't the same person now. The truth was his pain ripped me apart inside. My own grief at the situation was enough to demoralize me. Add in Mart's overwhelming guilt and anguish and I was an emotional wreck.

  I pulled my knees up, wrapping my arms around them and propping my chin on top. The viewscreen showed the weaving streams of colored light that were hyperspace, at least a visual representation of a dimension we weren't equipped to fully experience. The hyperdrive engine set up a flux field in space and time that allowed us to slip between and into a dimension where the laws were different. Instead of taking years and centuries to travel between stars, it took mere days and hours. When the engines were shut back down, if there was a gravity well sufficiently large and close, the ship was pulled back into normal space time.

  I was trying to distract myself. If I tried hard, closing my eyes and concentrating, I could almost dream alongside Mart. I didn't want to get that close. Despite everything I did to fight it, the bond between us continued to deepen and strengthen. I tried to hold myself apart from him, keep a spark of just me free of the bond. I was failing.

  Lowell leaned on the chair beside me, flicking a glance at me to gauge my mood. "Are you ready to help plan?"

  "Plan what?"

  "A raid on the Sector Governor's mansion."

  "You're crazy, Lowell," I said automatically.

  "That's where the information I need is located."

  "So why don't we just waltz in and tell the Sector Governor to give it to us? Why go to all the bother of stealing it?
"

  "Because I think he's involved. And he knows me. I've got the floor plans and the latest security information. Paltronis is there, waiting for me."

  Paltronis was a glorified guard dog, or so she'd told me the first time we met. The last time I saw her, she told me if I broke Tayvis' heart, she'd hunt me down and make me pay for it. I didn't want to see her, I didn't want her to know that I was going to break Tayvis' heart when he found out about Mart. And it wasn't even my fault.

  "You don't seem too happy to hear about Paltronis," Lowell said.

  "She hates me."

  "I trust her, Dace, and right now, the list of people I trust is very short."

  Facts began to click into place. I looked at Lowell, really looked at him for the first time. His strange silver eyes looked down from the viewscreen to meet mine. Stress lines marked his face, ones that hadn't been there the last time I'd seen him.

  "Why are you running, Lowell?"

  "Because I'm on the most wanted list for treason. I'm innocent, of course. I was framed."

  "That's my line. You're awfully calm about it."

  "Because I know when I get the information I need, I can prove my innocence and hopefully, the other's guilt."

  I gave in. "What's your plan?"

  "Come see the floorplans."

  I followed him into the cabin. Beryn sprawled on the bottom bunk, fiddling with some of the junk left in the lockers. Papers were spread over the table, mem paper with various floor plans marked on them. Lowell bent over the table and selected one. He pressed a corner and the view changed to a landscape map.

  "Do you still have your lockpicks?" Lowell asked.

  I should have known he knew about them. I nodded. They were currently tucked into my left boot.

  "Good, that simplifies things," Lowell said. "Otherwise we'd have to use explosives on the gates which would not only be noisy but it would definitely tip off the guards."

  "You want me to pick a lock on the main gate? In broad daylight, I suppose."

  "Delivery gate just after sunset," Lowell said. "You may not have to pick it. If Paltronis can arrange things for me. Roderick is hosting a big party in four days. I'm hoping we can slip in with the caterers."

 

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