No Man's Land (Defending The Future)

by Jennifer Brozek

  “So far,” she agreed.

  “Superstition doesn’t become you,” Tarin told her serenely.

  He was so young, she thought. He hadn’t had time to grow cautious. “I’m not superstitious, Governor, I’m careful. My job is to make sure you make it all the way to your investiture, not just to the Viceroy’s central planet.”

  “Of course,” Tarin agreed, “and you’ll do that job admirably, I’m sure.”

  “Well, part of that job is waiting to celebrate until you’re back on Maiara, all official-like.”

  Tarin chuckled. “I have perfect confidence. My mother thought very highly of you, you know.” He looked around the bridge, smiling openly.

  “I’m happy to hear that, Governor,” Brina replied, “But as you know, we have reason to be concerned. If you’ll accompany me back to your quarters?” She indicated the gantry to the bridge. “We can leave the captain and his crew to their business.”

  Tarin’s bright smile faded a bit. “Oh. Yes, of course.” He allowed her to escort him into the corridor. Brina kept him at her elbow as they walked.

  “Have you acquired any more leads in the search for my assassins?” Tarin asked when they were alone. All traces of the conviviality he had shown on the bridge were suppressed now by a serious, sharp-minded attitude. As she watched him, Brina was reminded acutely of Tarin’s mother. He had the same ability to gather information, assess it, and surprise the people around him with the results of his analysis.

  “I thought you didn’t think there was any real threat,” Brina reminded him.

  He smiled. “I never said there was no threat, only that I had complete confidence in your ability to neutralize it.”

  “My abilities are limited, Governor, by your willingness to comply with my instructions for your safety.”

  Tarin sighed at the reprimand in her voice. “I didn’t take anyone with me to the bridge,” he apologized.

  “And you didn’t tell me you were leaving your quarters,” Brina agreed. “I agreed that on this ship, you could forego a constant guard on your cabin door, but that doesn’t mean you can go anywhere you please without notifying us. And once we’re planetside, I want someone with you every minute.”

  “Yes, but what if I have an assignation or a secret meeting?” Tarin asked. The glint in his eye matched the mischievous smile. Brina wanted to knock them both off his face. She resisted.

  “No secret meetings. As for assignations, you can have them, but only if a guard comes with you.”

  Tarin tried again to make her laugh. “And if I suffer performance anxiety?”

  Brina stared at him, deadpan, until he sobered. “Governor, this is not about your privacy. It is about your protection. I will not let you endanger yourself or keep me from keeping you safe. I’ve told you before that neither I nor anyone on my team cares what you do—or with whom. But I’d like you to get into the habit now of making sure someone from security is with you at all times.”

  Tarin nodded solemnly. “Don’t worry, Major. If anyone has a stake in my staying alive, it’s me. So. Tell me what you came to tell me.”

  Brina pulled the itinerary out of her tunic pocket. “I’d like to review the timetable with you one more—”

  Her commlink pinged. “Major, we’ve intercepted another communication, this one from Maiara to Loniro Prime.”

  She looked up at her protectee as she replied. “Thanks, Colo. Have you decrypted it yet?”

  “Working on it now. Andu thinks it’ll take him maybe an hour?”

  “We’ll be in dock by then, transferring the governor to his atmospheric transport. Tell Andu to send it to my personal reader as soon as he’s got a lock on it.”

  “Acknowledged,” Colo told her.

  “I’ll be with the governor for the next ten minutes. Come up to his quarters to stay with him while we prepare to transfer.”

  “Yes, Major, on my way.” Colo cut the link.

  Tarin pressed the security reader on his door and bowed to Brina so she could enter before him. Brina made a quick sweep of the cabin and then waved him inside.

  “So, do you think it’s Warnam or Imholt?” Tarin asked, as if they had not been interrupted. “Trying to kill me, I mean.”

  “I know what you meant. I wish you’d take it a little more seriously.”

  “My dear Major, I see no reason to worry when you are doing it so effectively for us both.” He lounged on the bunk. “Now, my guess would be Imholt. As much as Warnam would like my territory, he at least is possessed of a sense of nobility. Imholt has no such scruples.”

  “But Warnam has contacts in the refinery in Kenir,” Brina pointed out.

  “Ah, but that makes him rather the obvious choice, doesn’t he?” Tarin grinned. “If I were Longo, I’d send a message to Warnam’s contacts, as well.”

  “Why do that if it would tip us off?”

  “For the simple reason that it will make it look like Warnam’s people are involved,” Tarin replied.

  Brina frowned. “I’m not in the business of intergalactic espionage, but it doesn’t really matter, we don’t have enough yet. There’s still the possibility that Sald is—”

  “My cousin is not interested in Governorship,” Tarin said flatly.

  “I wish I could agree, Governor. But let’s hope this newest set of instructions gets us the heads-up we need to keep you safe. Now. The itinerary?”

  Tarin sighed. He recited in a bored monotone: “At ten-hundred, we’ll be given clearance to transfer to my atmospheric transport. The trip from spaceport to the Viceroy’s palace will take one hour; allowing for docking clearance, that’s eleven-fifteen. At eleven-twenty, you and three of your operatives will accompany me through the palace to my private quarters. I am to remain there until nineteen-thirty, when we will be received by the Viceroy. He’ll accept my credentials, invest me formally, and then we’ll pose for the intergalactic news network. The event will conclude with a state dinner and investiture ball. You would like me in bed—alone, I presume—by twenty-two-hundred so that we can board our ship back to spaceport at oh-six-hundred the next morning.”

  “You left out—”

  “Yes, of course. While we await the reception, there will undoubtedly be an endless presentation of gifts, any one of which may be booby-trapped. I assure you, you’ll be given complete access to check all baggage, even mine, as well as all parcels and food items brought into the quarters before I touch, taste, or ingest anything.”

  “This isn’t a ridiculous request, Governor,” Brina insisted, teeth grating.

  “I’ve told you, I agree. But you’ve been over this with me at least a dozen times.” For the first time, Tarin sounded as young as his seventeen years. “I said before, I have complete confidence in you. What I don’t have confidence in is whether I’ll remember my oath, so I’d like to spend a little time working on it before we’re overrun with reporters, digitographers, well-wishers, and gift-givers.”

  Brina fought the urge to groan. She reminded herself again that the pressure she felt to keep Tarin safe was probably nothing compared to the stress Tarin felt, to be so young and in such a public position. Then again, there could be no question that Rissa had raised him to be prepared.

  “I’ll be outside,” she said, “waiting for Colo.”

  “What do you mean, there’s a more urgent problem?” Brina demanded. She had barely made it into the lift before her comlink pinged. The bridge’s unwelcome news did nothing to improve her sour mood over the incipient governor’s glib attitude.

  “Captain Rikl requests you join him and he’ll explain,” came the reply.

  Brina sighed. “On my way,” she told the ensign. She pushed the button for the bridge deck; the lift’s pneumatic pistons complained at the schizophrenic request.

  “Major,” Rikl greeted her. “There’s an issue with the governor’s transport.”

  “What sort of issue?”

  “It’s out of service,” he said. “Gravitational system failur
e. I’ve already asked for a full report on the malfunction, but in the meantime, I don’t like the options they’ve offered.”

  “Which are?”

  “Shared transport, or we can accept the offer of Princess Rylara’s personal ship.”

  “The Viceroy’s daughter?” Brina frowned. “What’s the catch?”

  “The Princess will be on board.”

  “You’re kidding,” Brina scoffed. “He’ll never go for it.”

  “Then it’s the public transport.”

  “No way,” Brina objected. “I haven’t vetted anyone who might be on that ship.”

  The captain nodded. “So?”

  Brina stared at the display showing the spaceport dock from the angles of the ship’s external cameras. Her job was getting harder by the second. “Fine. I’ll break it to the governor.”

  “Why weren’t we informed of the mechanical errors earlier?” Tarin asked when Brina told him the bad news.

  “Because we weren’t,” Brina answered. “Because it’s likely that the mechanical problems are a set-up to get you off that transport and onto one we can’t control.”

  “That’s a bit obvious, isn’t it?” Tarin scoffed.

  “Obvious, but effective. You’re not getting on that transport.”

  “Which leaves us with two equally unpleasant choices. Either we travel without any ability to control who else is on board, or….” He grimaced.

  “You could probably dodge having to review the Princess’s paintings for the hour or so it’ll take to get to the palace,” Brina pointed out. She wondered if she should have appeared a little less amused by his discomfort.

  “Undoubtedly, and insult the Viceroy in the process.”

  “Won’t it insult him just as badly to refuse the offer?”

  “No; I can make it sound like probity,” Tarin said convincingly. “Besides, if someone wanted me unable to take my own transport, wouldn’t they bet on us taking the next best?”

  “I would,” Brina agreed.

  “Well, then: Public transport. Charming. How many seats are available for purchase?”

  There were three passengers on the transport outside of the Governor’s party—three too many, in Brina’s opinion.

  Two guards flanked Tarin to either side, Brina on point, Colo bringing up the rear. The rest of his essential staff, including his valet and personal secretary, would come on the Princess’s transport, which was Tarin’s diplomatic way of saving face while avoiding her enthusiastic but dreadful artistic endeavors. Some of Brina’s people were with them in the hope the assassin would reveal himself onboard.

  Brina clutched the profile chips for the three passengers and the four crewmembers. She’d reviewed them before allowing Tarin to set foot onboard, but there was always a chance she’d missed something. As they walked into the compartment, she felt an odd hitch in her cybersynth knee; a moment later, it righted itself.

  “You okay?” Marse asked her. She was guarding Tarin’s right, so she doubtless saw the sticky twinge in Brina’s gait.

  “Fine,” Brina assured her. “Just want to get this over with.”

  “I hear that,” Marse agreed.

  “How behind schedule are we?” Tarin asked when they took their seats.

  “About forty-five minutes, Governor,” Brina said. “Luckily we had a few hours of downtime built in.”

  “So my beauty sleep will suffer, you’re telling me,” Tarin said with a wink.

  The docking arms retracted with a lurch. Brina’s leg twitched and relaxed as before.

  “Muscle cramp?” One of the passengers commented genially. “Probably the anti-grav. My arthritis gets me every time,” he continued, indicating his hip.

  Brina smiled tightly. “We’re on duty, sir,” she said to cut off further conversation.

  The ship pulled away from dock, thrusting into low orbit and closing quickly on the atmosphere. The captain (Captain Harig according to his dossier) announced that the cabin crew would be in shortly to guide the passengers through the heavy-G procedures for traveling through blackout. Their stewards assisted with the restraints. Brina tensed when Tarin fastened his restraints, but the stewards passed by without making a move toward him.

  They fell toward the planet surface.

  Brina read through the files again, still finding nothing out of the ordinary. But something didn’t feel right, and she couldn’t shake it.

  “This is your captain again. We’ll be entering blackout in just about ninety seconds, so relax, breathe normally, and when we’re through I’ll turn on the safety signal so you can move freely again. Oh, and Major, if you can access the downlink pad on your seat, there’s a message for you.”

  Brina stretched her arm to key in her security clearance code. The message downlinked, but before she could read it, they entered blackout.

  Around Brina, the passengers leaned back and closed their eyes. She resisted the urge to close hers, even though she knew no one could move around during blackout. Outside the portholes, bright orange flashes showed the burn and their rate of speed. She fought to breathe as the g-force pressed down on her chest. It was nearly impossible to move her head, but she let it fall back and then forced it to the side to check on Tarin. He had closed his eyes, but seemed to be breathing calmly. The muscles on his neck were corded with the effort.

  Three minutes passed. The pressure lifted and Brina heard the collective intake of air as everyone in the compartment breathed in relief.

  The downlink completed itself. Brina read the message. It was the decryption Andu had not finished before they were required to move onto the surface transport. “Arranged. No royal escort. Equipment in locker. Button on device.”

  Brina looked up, expecting the safety lights to illuminate or Captain Harig to announce their entry into atmospheric flight. Although neither came right away, Brina reached for her restraints to unfasten the harness. “Device” probably meant “bomb.” She had to get to the captain right away, forward the message to her team on the Princess’s ship. The killer was on one of the crews.

  She had just opened the clasp when the gravity went out altogether. She lifted out of her seat and floated toward the bulkhead.

  “Major!” Marse cried in alarm, unfastening her own restraints.

  “Keep the governor covered,” Brina said. She held up her hands to keep from bouncing into the ceiling, reversing her flow back toward her seat after pressing the emergency call signal to the cockpit.

  The hatch at the back of the compartment slid open; a steward answering the call, Brina hoped.

  “The grav’s out in here,” she started to say, but before she could voice more than “The grav,” she heard the pop and sizzle of a blaster. Marse slumped over Tarin. Drops of blood flooded upward from her chest.

  Tarin lost no time drawing Marse’s own blaster and firing back. Brina twisted to see the figure, wearing an EVA suit, bouncing toward them.

  Brina kicked away toward the assailant, who ducked behind an empty row of seats for cover. The assassin touched a button on a small metal box, worn on a belt around his suit, and gravity returned.

  Not just returned, magnified. Multiplied. Brina dropped to the floor with twice her normal weight. She felt a rib crack, but luckily she’d landed on her right side—the cybersynth side, so no other bones were shattered or crushed under its mass. That didn’t change the feeling of being crushed right against the deck, or the labor of her heart to keep beating. The assassin turned up the dial another notch. Not a bomb, then. That was good news.

  But the hired gun wasn’t affected by the device at all. In his suit, he raised his blaster again.

  Brina struggled to lift her leg, her arms, anything to stop the attack, protect the governor. Her body refused to cooperate, except for her right knee, which jerked as if there’d been no change to the cabin pressure. She gasped for breath and at the same time shifted her hips as hard as she could. Freed of the weight of her body, the synth leg shot upward in a powerful kick.r />
  Her boot landed squarely on the assailant’s torso. With the added strength of the cybernetic leg, he fell backward despite the grav suit. Brina swept her leg in a wide arc, screaming with the pain of her ribs, but it caught his legs and sent him over the rest of the way. She became aware of the captain making an announcement about the emergency, but no one else had made it through the hatch with another EVA suit. She drew in another labored breath and slid down the deck toward the assassin. He was sitting up, aiming. She shot another roundhouse kick to knock the blaster from his gloved hands. On the back-swing, she sliced down toward the box on his belt.

  Then three things happened in quick succession: the box smashed open; the assassin cried out in pain; and gravity levels returned to normal.

  Ten seconds later, it was over.

  Colo had struggled out of his restraints and captured both the blaster and the man wielding it. The remaining guards had Tarin out of his seat and down on the deck behind the last row of seats. Brina had collapsed, but could breathe again, at least.

  “Is the governor all right?” she shouted.

  “Perfectly well, Major,” the governor answered for himself.

  “Check him for wounds,” Brina insisted.

  Her last image was one of the cabin crew leaning over her to check her own wounds. Then she passed out.

  When next she woke, Colo was sitting next to her bed. “Hey, you’re back,” he said affectionately.

  “How long—” Brina croaked.

  “Few hours,” Colo told her. “We’re in the Palace, everything’s fine.”

  “Assassin?”

  “In custody. He was—”

  “One of the stewards,” Brina finished.

  Colo pinched his eyebrows to peer at her. “How’d you know?”

  “Andu decoded the message. Knew it was a crew member. Then I glimpsed his face through the visor. Recognized him from the file.”

  “Okay. He’s made a full confession. Warnam was behind it after all.”

  Brina sighed. “How’d the governor take it?”

  “He’s not pleased. But he’s officially Governor now and Warnam can’t do a thing about it. When Captain Harig called in to report the disturbance, the Viceroy sidestepped protocol and invested Governor Tarin right away. He wouldn’t leave, though, until you were feeling up to it.”