by David Ryker
He looked to his friends, all of whom were looking back at him. They needed his leadership on this; he knew they would do whatever he asked.
“What do you think, boss?” Bishop asked. “We’re ready either way.”
“I know you are.” He turned to Drake. “Give us some time to talk about this.”
Drake nodded. “Of course, but we don’t have a lot of time to give. Why don’t you go back home for awhile? Oscar can make the call to Oberon One while you discuss it, then we can meet back here at, say, 1500 hours. Deal?”
“Hold it,” said King. “I’m going to be in on the call with you and this Kergan.”
“Now hold on—”
“He’s in or there’s no deal,” said Quinn.
“Uh, if I could?” Schuster’s hand was raised again. “I think Mr. King should be there, but I have to caution you that you and the general both need to be far from the camera. Kergan isn’t stupid, and you know that Toomey will be listening in, as well.”
“Thanks for that insight, Dev,” said King. He turned to Drake. “You heard him. Does that work for you?”
“Whatever gets this moving,” said Drake. “I’ll get my special Secret Service detail to take the three of us to Oscar’s home.”
Bloom looked like he’d swallowed a bug, but he nodded. “All right, let’s get this over with.”
Drake stood and extended his hand across the table to Quinn, who took it.
“Rendezvous back here at 1500, then?”
Quinn nodded. “You’ll have your answer.” He leaned closer as he saw Oscar trying to talk with Chelsea, who didn’t want anything to do with him. “Don’t let Bloom fuck this up.”
“Copy that,” Drake said somberly. “See you in a few hours.”
Bishop came up beside Quinn and put a hand on his shoulder.
“We’ve got a lot to talk about,” he said. “This may be the most important conversation of our lives. I’d like Ellie to be there.”
Quinn nodded. “Of course. I’d ask Peg to be there as well, but I’m not sure if Maggott would want that or not, and we don’t have time to waste on it.”
“What about Ulysses?”
“He made his decision already.” Quinn frowned. “Can’t say I blame him. Though it might actually be better if he’s out of the picture. If we’re going to be playing the bad guys for a while, he’d probably end up spending the whole time in prison. His convictions aren’t in question.”
“Sounds like you’ve already made up your mind,” said Bishop.
“Not yet.” Quinn glanced at Chelsea, saw the hurt on her face as her father left. “But I think I know which way I’m leaning.”
21
The chime of the commlink was an unwelcome surprise for Kergan, and he responded with a text message asking for some time to answer. The reply message he got back was curt and impatient, which gave him a little thrill. He so enjoyed needling Oscar Bloom.
If only everything was so enjoyable.
Dr. Toomey was nearby on the station’s bridge, but he was engrossed in a projection of schematics streaming into the cortical reality headset he’d brought with him and hadn’t heard the sound. Kergan tapped the doctor on the shoulder, startling him badly.
“What is it?” Toomey said waspishly. “You said you needed this finished immediately, and I could work better if you didn’t interrupt me.”
Kergan frowned. As much as he enjoyed having his new friend here, the doctor had proved to be an annoyance on several occasions already. He’d been experiencing some odd effects from his long-term exposure to the element, which apparently made it difficult for him to focus on certain things. Yes, the amplifier upgrade was almost done, but it had taken him far too long to get to this point, all because he was wasting too much time studying the toomium. Kergan wondered when the hell the novelty would finally wear off.
“Oscar Bloom is calling,” he said, trying to keep his voice even.
Toomey’s expression was bland as always.
“Oh,” he said. “That.”
“Yes, that. It’s time to put on our show, Doctor.”
Toomey let out a sigh. “Very well. But I warn you, I’m not much of an actor.”
Of course you’re not, Kergan thought sadly. That would require being fun.
They took the central zero-G tube up to Sean Farrell’s office and Kergan switched bodies into the warden. Meanwhile, Toomey wrapped a restraint belt around his narrow waist and slid his hands through the cuffs on either side. The rubber instantly molded to his wrists in response to his body heat; he was stuck fast.
Kergan slumped in the chair in Farrell’s office as Farrell walked toward the room that held his private commlink receiver. He glanced at Toomey as he sat down in front of the monitor.
“Something’s missing,” he said with a frown, scrutinizing Toomey’s face.
“What are you talking about?” the doctor asked.
“Ah!” Kergan felt a thrill run through him. “I know what it is!”
He made a fist, cocked Farrell’s long arm back and drove it forward into Toomey’s left cheek. Toomey’s head snapped back with the impact. When it lolled forward again, there was a large, bright welt forming under the doctor’s left eye, and he appeared dazed by the blow.
“That’s better,” said Kergan. “Bloom was quite angry with you for stealing his ship, Doctor. I think a little abuse of you will go a long way toward him trusting me more.”
He actually thought no such thing, of course, but it was all part of the game.
“Unnhh,” Toomey grunted.
Kergan/Farrell dropped his grin and assumed a grim expression as he answered the commlink. Oscar Bloom’s face appeared in the orb as always, only this time, Kergan saw something new in the man’s eyes.
Was it fear?
“Mr. Bloom,” he said. “I was just about to call you.”
Bloom frowned. “Does that mean Dr. Toomey has reached the station?”
“Just an hour ago,” Kergan lied. “We took him into custody immediately.”
He rotated the chair so that the commlink camera could pick up Toomey on the floor behind him.
“You beady-eyed little bastard!” Bloom hollered. “You stole my ship!”
“I let him know that you were angry, sir.” Kergan pointed to Toomey’s face. “In no uncertain terms.”
“Excellent. Is he conscious?”
Toomey groaned again.
“Not exactly,” said Kergan. “I’m afraid I was quite angry myself when I disciplined him. Sometimes that’s the only way we can maintain order out here on the fringes of space. They used to call it frontier justice, I believe.”
“Uh-huh. So you have my ship back, then?”
Kergan grinned. “Yes, sir. We can have it on its way back to you soon. I know you’re eager to explore its technology.”
“Send the tech who upgraded her along with it,” said Bloom. “Someone like that could go far in my organization. And Toomey, obviously; I can’t wait to get my hands on that bastard.”
That caught Kergan off guard, which he enjoyed. More cat and mouse.
“Certainly, sir.”
Bloom glanced off camera for a moment, which made Kergan wonder who else was in the room. Not that it mattered.
“By the way, Farrell, don’t go thinking this is all one-way,” said Bloom. “I’m happy to reward you for capturing Toomey and getting my ship back to me. You’ll be off that damn station and back here in a Tower soon enough.”
Kergan nodded humbly. “Everyone knows how generous you are, sir. I appreciate that.”
“First up, I guess I owe you a real supply ship. What do you need?”
“Everything that was on the original list I sent you. Our needs haven’t changed.”
Bloom glanced off-camera again.
“Yes, of course,” he said. “Pardon me, I forgot. I’ll have it on its way within twelve hours. Uh, unfortunately, it’ll take six weeks.”
Farrell’s eye narrowed. “Of course
, sir. But soon that will be much shorter, once you start manufacturing ships with the technology I’m sending you. I imagine a whole new world will be opened up by it. Countless new opportunities to generate profit.”
Bloom’s eyes widened. “Uh, yes,” he said. “I suppose it will be, won’t it?”
“Is there anything else you need from me, sir?” Kergan asked. He was getting tired of the conversation, and he and the doctor had work to do.
Another glance off camera. “No, that’s, uh, that’s good, Farrell. Good work as always. I’ll get that supply ship on its way and I’ll wait for your ship and Toomey in return.”
“Excellent, sir. Have a nice day. Farrell out.”
He killed the commlink without waiting for a response, then strode through the anteroom and back into his office. He sat down at his desk, rising again from the sofa in Kergan’s body.
“Doc-torrrr,” he cooed as he knelt beside Toomey. “Did you catch any of that?”
“You struck me,” Toomey croaked. “Why—”
Kergan sighed. “Try to stay focused on the present, Doctor. Did you hear my conversation with Oscar Bloom?”
“Sort of,” he said, sitting up. “You convinced him… that you had me in custody?”
“Oh, I doubt it. Bloom, maybe, but not the others in the room.”
He grabbed Toomey’s arm and hoisted him roughly to his feet. A quick tap on the controls released the doctor’s wrists and dropped the belt from his waist. With that done, he took Toomey’s arm again and led him to the door.
“Then what’s happening?” Toomey asked.
“They’re going to attack us,” Kergan said evenly as the pair stepped into the corridor. “And we need to start preparing for it in earnest.” He grinned wide. “I can’t wait.”
Drake and King stepped out of the alcove near Oscar Bloom’s commlink terminal. Neither of them appeared to be happy with the events that had just transpired.
“Well, that certainly doesn’t sound like what we heard from Quinn,” Bloom said. “There’s no sign of aliens anywhere that I can see.”
Drake gave him an incredulous look. “You’re not serious?”
“What if it’s true? Once Farrell sends Toomey and the ship back to Earth, we can start mass-producing the technology! We all stand to make a fortune off this!”
“He’s lying, Bloom!” King snapped. “Farrell’s under the control of an alien! Of course he’s going to say whatever you want to hear!”
“But what if he’s not?” asked Bloom, his eyes dancing. “What if he’s really sending us someone who can develop this technology? Forget the profit, imagine how much it could help society!”
“You’re suddenly interested in society,” Drake said evenly. “Really.”
“A rising tide lifts all boats.”
“And if you’re wrong?” asked Drake. “Aliens will take over the Earth! Plus there’s already someone here on Earth who can do the same thing. Or did you forget we have someone developing the technology for the assault?”
Bloom’s eyes narrowed. “I assumed he was just going by the schematics from the ship they brought back with them.”
King and Drake exchanged a look.
“They never did explain how that worked,” said Drake. “I assumed that, too.”
“I don’t like any of this,” said King. “The sooner that assault team is on its way to Oberon, the better.”
“I agree,” said Drake. “If what you say is true, Oscar, then the assault will simply turn around and come back. If not, well…”
“I think you’re crazy,” said Bloom. “But I’m not going to argue about it.”
“Maybe you’re not,” said King. “But Morley and I have a lot to talk about on the way home.”
King and Drake said their goodbyes and left together, leaving Bloom alone in his study with his thoughts. He was already making plans for what to do with Toomey and the ship when they arrived.
22
Quinn sat back in his chair and pushed the pizza box away from him.
“I can’t eat another bite,” he groaned. “Whose idea was this, anyway?”
“Who d’ye think?” Maggott chuckled as he grabbed the last two slices from the box Quinn had abandoned and rolled them into a tube, which he then proceeded to shove into his mouth.
“That’s somehow amazing and disgusting at the same time,” Chelsea said, a look of horrified fascination on her face.
“It’s pretty common among slumdogs,” said Gloom. “In fact, there’s a saying about it: Get it when you can get it, because you can’t always get it.”
Bishop patted his belly as if it belonged to Santa rather than someone who was ten pounds under the recommended weight for his height.
“Now that the food’s gone, I guess we have to stop avoiding the topic and discuss what we came here to discuss,” he said.
“Yes, we do,” Ellie agreed. “I think we all know what the answer should be. At least I know what mine is.” She wrapped an arm around Bishop’s. “I say let someone else go. I want my man to stay here with me.”
Bishop raised his eyebrows. “I’m not going to argue with her. She’s a real bag when she doesn’t get her way.”
Quinn grinned. “I suppose that doesn’t come as a surprise. So that’s officially two votes for the ‘stay’ column.”
“That raises a question,” said Ben. “What if it’s not unanimous?”
“We’ll burn that bridge when we come to it,” said Quinn. “Since you’re the one talking, what’s your vote?”
He sighed and shook his head. “A front-row seat to the story of the century is incredibly tempting,” he said. “Then again, so is another seventy or eighty years of life. And as Drake pointed out, we have a better chance of success if we’re here, putting on a show for the networks. I know that’s easy for me to say, because I’ve never been publicly railroaded for a crime I didn’t commit before, and you four have. But still, I vote to stay.”
“All right.” Quinn turned to Schuster and Gloom. “You two?”
“Dev has done more than enough,” said Gloom. “As for me, I don’t owe that prick Drake anything, so I’m happy to vote stay.”
Quinn cocked an eyebrow. “That’s your vote, too, Dev?”
He glanced at Gloom for a moment, then back to Quinn.
“Yeah,” he said. “But not because of her. Well, maybe partly.”
Quinn expected Gloom to smack Schuster, or at least roll her eyes. She surprised him by touching his arm instead.
“I know how this is going to sound, but bear with me,” said Schuster. “But what I’ve got in my brain is pretty damn important. It could literally change the world. I don’t think it should be risked on a mission like this.” He paused a moment. “Sloane agrees.”
I bet he does, Quinn thought, but he couldn’t argue with the logic of it.
“How about you, big guy?” he asked Maggott. “You’ve always been the first one in line for a fight, but…”
He nodded. “That was before Peg came back. I dinnae want to get into a long thing here, but if there’s a chance we can make it work…” Quinn thought he’d never seen the man look more vulnerable. “I have t’take it, ye ken?”
Chelsea stroked his big arm from her seat beside him on the sofa. “Of course we get it, you big dummy,” she said. “You have a life of your own to worry about. So do I. So do all of us.”
“I take it that’s your answer, then?” asked Quinn.
“You know how I feel,” she said, her eyes locked on his. It made his stomach do a sudden backflip.
“Okay,” he said, mostly to avoid Chelsea’s piercing gaze. “Well, Ulysses voted with his feet this morning, so I suppose that leaves me.”
“You’re the key to this, Lee,” said Bishop. “If you choose to go, and you order me to come with you, I’ll do it.”
Quinn felt his heart cramp a little. It only got worse when he saw the look on Ellie’s freckled face. She saw him looking at her, and he quickly looked away
.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said quietly, as if reading his mind. Tears began to stream from the corners of her eyes. “I’m used to it after all these years. Semper fi, brothers in arms, oorah, all that testosterone-fuelled bullshit. I get it. I won’t try to stop him.”
Bishop squeezed her close to him, but she didn’t look him in the eye. Something about that was the final dagger in Quinn’s heart. He’d stolen this man away from her twice: once to war, once to prison. Stealing him a third time would be the act of a complete and utter bastard.
Chelsea caught his eye again, only now she looked anxious. He could see color rising in her cheeks. The rest of them stared at him silently, expectantly. What was he going to say?
He knew his answer.
“Fuck it,” he said finally. “You’re right. None of us owe this world a goddamn thing. If anything, it owes us. I’m staying, even if it means going through the wringer of being Public Enemy No. 1 all over again.”
A smile spread over Chelsea’s face even as tears began to roll down her cheeks. She pressed her palms together in front of her as if praying, then straightened her arms out toward him. He guessed that meant she was happy with his choice.
Surprisingly, so was he.
But he wouldn’t be for long.
At 1500 hours, Drake and King stalked through the door to the meeting room, where Quinn and the rest of his people sat in the same seats they had that morning. Quinn was somewhat surprised to see King take a chair next to Drake.
“How did the call go?” Quinn asked.
King glanced at Drake for a moment before answering. “I suppose that depends on how you look at it. There was no specific intelligence to gain, other than to confirm that Dr. Toomey is definitely on Oberon One.”
“That’s not news,” said Quinn. “What else?”
“Farrell is still trying to convince Oscar that there’s nothing out of the ordinary,” said Drake. “Which, according to you, is just Kergan manipulating him.”