Moses brought Cupid to land in a small dock near the top and on one of the narrow ends of the structure. A chubby little man with neon orange hair rushed in to meet them as soon as the hangar door closed. He was dressed in a green pinstripe suit, and a series of golden rings puncturing his face from one ear to his nose. As the ship’s hatch opened, he lurched forward, arms open.
“Dianne, darling!” He squeezed her effusively, while Umbrador patted his back twice with one hand.
“Hammy, good of you to be here. It’s been too long.”
“Even a day without your presence gracing this humble pebble in the sky is too long for Hammy, my dear.
Ada watched, her face twisted. “The further in you go, the stranger people get, don’t they?” she said quietly as Joyce came out the hatch to join her. “What are those… rings?”
“Mm, I don’t know what’s wrong with you, Ada. I feel like coming home. Need to get me some of those rings while we’re here.”
“While we’re here?” She gave Joyce a half-smile. “Does that mean you’re thinking about staying on Cupid when I leave?”
Joyce shrugged. “Let’s wait and see how the wine is first.”
Ada went back on board to check supplies. It hadn’t been too long a flight, but she thought she should know if there was anything that could be topped off on Umbrador’s dime while she still had a wealthy woman on her ship.
Her ship.
She smiled, and for a moment she let herself dream. If her father hadn’t disappeared; if there weren’t people on both sides of the system trying to kill her; if her life had never changed for the worse, she might still relish the thought of having a tiny freighter to zip around in. Who knew what kind of adventures she might get into? She patted her bunk as she passed through the living quarters. It wasn’t big enough for luxury living, sure. But she didn’t ask for that.
Raya would have loved it, she thought. A ship just big enough for two sisters to go exploring in.
Her thoughts were shaken by the sound of blaster fire, and the echo of a hit on the hull. She ducked, instinctively. “Moses?” she subvocalized. “What’s going on?”
Her earpiece beeped. “Shots fired on the hangar deck. Assailants unknown. Target… achieved. Ada, they shot Lady Umbrador.”
Ada cussed, running for the hatch. The shooters had disappeared by the time she got there. Joyce turned to face her, shaking her head. Bone Crusher and the two pretty boys stood in a little half-circle. Doctor Saran dropped to his knees in front of Umbrador. Hammy lay beside her, already dead.
“What happened?” Ada asked, joining Bone Crusher.
“About to find out,” he growled. He turned and ran in the direction of the shots.
“She’s fading,” Saran said. He had a device in each hand, and was waving them over Umbrador’s wounds. “Ada, help me. We need a, a stimulant. Something strong, to keep her heart beating while the bots work. Go grab my bag? On my bunk.”
Ada nodded and turned.
“Wait,” a weak voice called. Ada turned around and saw Umbrador struggling to lift her head. Her eyes were glazed in pain, and blood had trickled from the corner of her mouth, staining her lips like a cherry. “Wait,” she said again. Ada came to her knees at the woman’s side.
“Take this,” she moaned, holding out her hand. Ada took another data stick from her. “To… Harry. Tell him… not too late. Sue for peace. Not… war. Not the… the wizard.” Ada scrunched up her face, trying to understand. Umbrador struggled to put more words together, but her body failed her. The bots couldn’t save her quickly enough.
Saran heaved a labored a sigh. “She’s gone,” he said.
“I’m sorry.” Ada knelt, feeling both guilty for not retrieving the bag right away, and perplexed about receiving the dying woman’s confusing final wish.
“There’s nothing you could have done. Adrenaline wouldn’t have saved her, just prolonged her pain. The damage was too deep.”
Blood was pooling around the body. Ada watched Saran ignore the death that surrounded them both, staring silently into the lifeless eyes of his patron. So this is what it’s like to be a doctor, she thought.
“Ada,” Moses buzzed in her ear. “I suggest you all board Cupid immediately. There’s more trouble.”
She stood. “Did they get Crush?”
“Bone Crusher was unable to locate the shooters and is on his way back. The problem has more to do with the small fleet of battleships surrounding the planet. And the bomber squadron forming up in orbit.”
Ada’s stomach lurched.
Bombers.
Chapter 19
The Fairfax slowed to a crawl as they came into the orbital plane. Randall set them in a high orbit to stay clear of the Martian stations, and Lucas drained the last of his coffee.
“Private Mulligan, please inform the Ceres survivors that we are in orbit over the planet. Have any that wish to disembark on Mars meet me on the hangar deck. Randall, you have the bridge. Caspar, with me.”
“Sir.”
He spoke into his comm as he walked, asking for Adams to send Jan to the hangar deck as well. When they arrived, they found both of them waiting with Mulligan and Darren. Lucas spread out his hands.
“Where are all the refugees?” he asked.
“Sir, they all wish to stay on until we return to the belt.”
Lucas huffed. “I might have known that would happen.” He turned to face Darren. “And you’re here because…?”
“Am I a prisoner onboard the Fairfax?”
Lucas frowned. “No. But you’re not on my crew, either. Are you leaving us and staying here?”
Darren’s eye twitched just a little. “Requesting permission to accompany your team on the surface, Captain.”
“Permission denied. That was easy.”
“Sir, why?” Mulligan asked.
“He might come in handy,” Adams said. Everyone turned to look at him. “What? I’m just saying, the man knows how to knock a couple of skulls together, that’s all. They’re no illusions here; we all know we’re hauling freight for pirates, right? Anything could happen down there.”
“Adams,” Lucas said, “why are you here?”
“Oh, Sir, I thought you just might, you know, desire my senior leadership whilst on the ground.”
Lucas squinted at him. “You just want to get out of your crammed new workspace.”
Caspar made a show of cocking and holstering two kinetic pistols, and checking the charge on the blast rifle she was carrying. She pointed it at Darren. “I can cover him, Sir, if he steps out of line.”
Lucas’ frown deepened. Now he was just outnumbered. “Fine,” he mumbled. “But this doesn’t mean I like you,” he said, pointing a finger in Darren’s face.
They boarded the comet-hopper and launched, watching for a moment as the Fairfax drifted away in the rear cam. Lucas shook his head. It was going to take a while to get used to seeing all those guns.
Caspar piloted. Lucas had taken the spot beside her, but now he rose and moved back toward the cargo area. “Private,” he said to Mulligan. “I’d like you to take the console up front and help Caspar find the Ambassador.”
She looked daunted for a moment, then nodded.
“Ambassador Taurius?” Jan asked. “You mean at the Embassy in Sector A-7?”
Lucas blocked Mulligan with his arm. “Change of plans. You go.” He nodded at Jan.
“So,” Caspar asked once Jan had joined her. “Taurius is a character in your game? You didn’t think to mention that before in this wild shootout of a mission?”
He shook his head. “The names and working locations of all official Empire diplomats is a necessary feature of the game. Until now, no known affiliation existed between Taurius and the world of piracy. Or organized crime. Wow.” He grinned. “I wonder if they’ll credit me in the next release if I’m the one to tell them about it.”
“Huh.”
“Oh my gosh, can you imagine? If, like, you’re starting up the game and
the startup screen comes on and it’s all, seventh edition, featuring extra secret special inside info from pirate extraordinaire, Carl Jan, from the meanest crew this side of the whole belt! And then there’s like this really awesome blaring sound with the lights flashing for like, almost long enough to make you seize up but not really long enough, and it’s sort of—”
“Sir?” Caspar called over her shoulder. “I miss Tompkins.”
Jan gave Caspar coordinates, and she brought them down in the northern hemisphere, into an area built up with lots of towering structures and leafy looking habs. “There,” Jan said, pointing at the viewscreen. Lucas saw a tall, elliptical tower. “That should park us while we go in and see the Ambassador.”
“Somehow I doubt it will be that easy,” Lucas muttered. Caspar brought them to a hover beside the tower. “We haven’t been called yet?”
“No, Sir. Should I request a feed?”
“Do.”
They waited a few moments. Then a minute. Two. Nothing happened.
“Maybe they’re all on a coffee break,” Adams said.
“No.” Darren stood behind them all, peering ahead at the screen. “They don’t disregard protocol this far in. Something’s wrong.”
Lucas nodded. “Alright, I want Adams on my right, Mulligan, you and Darren flank the kid behind us. Caspar, see if you can bring us down on the roof, then bring up the rear.”
“Aye, Sir.”
Lucas checked the charge on his blasting pistol. He glanced at Darren. “You ever just wish you could have a boring day, roll out of your bunk and not wade through a sea of gunfire and explosions, just enjoy a little peace and boredom like a regular old civ?”
“No.”
Caspar brought the hopper to rest on a landing pad on top of the tower, near one end. No one was in sight.
“I don’t like this.” She unstrapped and moved to the cargo area.
“Me either.” Lucas raised his rifle. “Let’s move.” The hatch opened, and they filed out onto the roof. A covered area at the other end looked like it had a lift door, and they trotted over, eyes peeled for any sign of movement. There was none.
The door was locked, of course, so Lucas had Adams fiddle away with his multitool for a moment. It swung open in seconds. “Pretty handy lock-picking, Adams,” Lucas said. “I think you may have missed your calling.”
Adams scoffed. “Never send a locksmith to do an engineer’s job. I can fix anything, Sir.”
The lift lit up and announced they were on the roof of the Martian Embassy docking tower. A console showed the structure spanned two-hundred levels. Lucas whistled.
“Where’s our man, Jan?” Caspar asked as she entered.
“Ah, he’s, ah…” Jan swiped a screen on his arm-console. “Down.”
“You don’t say.”
“All the way, I mean. He’s the lead Ambassador, you know. Office suite on the ground floor.”
“Going down.” Lucas keyed it into the console, and the lift began moving.
About ten floors down, the lift slowed, groaning, and the lights flickered. The car came to a complete stop, with all of them trapped inside.
“Umm…” Lucas switched on the light on his blaster rifle. Caspar did the same. There was a distant roar, like the sound of aircraft ripping through the thin atmosphere overhead.
“This was a bad idea,” Adams muttered. “I should have just stayed on the ship. I was happy on the ship. Why wouldn’t I be happy on the ship? My ship. Makes me happy. Ship has a problem, I know how to fix it. Down here, I’m just a—”
“Adams, stow it.” Lucas smacked the wall console, which had gone dark as well. “So much for fixing everything,” he muttered.
Darren jumped. The entire lift lurched as he landed.
“What are you doing?” Lucas yelled.
Instead of answering, he jumped again. He held a multitool in his hand, cutter extended, and he swiped at the ceiling, creating a small tear. “Better use your rifle,” he said. “This thing will take forever.”
Lucas nodded and aimed where Darren had made the tear. “Everyone get down and cover your heads.” He squeezed the trigger.
And instantly regretted it. Firing a blaster in a small, confined space at close proximity had to be, he decided, one of the most stupid things he’d ever done. His ears rang, he was blinking and blind in the darkness, and completely disoriented for several seconds.
The lift lurched once more.
“Will you stop jumping? We’re up this shaft about the height of a mountain, and I for one don’t want to fly down and become a pancake!”
“That wasn’t me.” After a pause, Darren jumped one more time, and punched a chunk of the ceiling away. “That’ll do,” he said quietly.
“Is there a service ladder?” Caspar asked.
“Should be.” Darren crouched to leap again. Instead, he collapsed against the wall. They all lost their balance as the entire tower shook under the force of a massive explosion, and the lift lurched once more, groaning in protest.
Lucas pulled himself up on the wall.
“I think this is it,” Jan said. “I never would have imagined I’d die in an elevator on Mars. Horrific mechanical accident, ok, that maybe was a bit of a given, considering my chosen field, but I always thought it would be on the ship, where gravity isn’t such an issue. Why do they have to mimic Earth’s gravity here in the first place? Stupid, stupid, stupid. Makes situations like this needlessly dangerous. Ok, there might be a little danger in the planet’s native gravity, but not anything like this, nothing nearly as deadly, I mean if this cart goes they will need to run dental records to identify our remains, you know what I mean? It won’t even be a question of—”
“Shut up!” Caspar slapped him in the face.
Darren leapt, caught the edge of the opening he’d made, and pulled himself up and out of the car. There was a stark moment after he’d disappeared when Lucas was convinced he’d seen the last of him—he would slither away and survive, while the rest of them plummeted to their deaths. But no, his head reappeared. “Angie,” he said, hanging an arm over the edge. Mulligan grabbed on, and he pulled her up.
Of course.
Lucas and Adams lifted her from below. They sent Jan up next, then Caspar. Under any other circumstances, Lucas might have blushed at crouching down and grabbing ahold of her thigh.
“Don’t get fresh, Adams,” she muttered.
“Wouldn’t dream it.” He grunted a bit more than necessary as they lifted her.
“Please,” she said sardonically.
“Your turn,” Lucas said to him after she was through. He bent down on all fours and let the engineer step onto his back. Caspar peered over from atop the lift.
“Aw, you’re sending him first, Sir? I thought maybe you’d come out and we’d just leave him here.”
It took a little more time and effort pulling Adams up, both because he was a bit heavier than the others, and because Lucas was alone beneath him. But eventually they succeeded, and Lucas was left alone in the lift. Darren reappeared, hanging an arm down. Lucas frowned. He’d hoped Caspar would be the one to pull him up. But he supposed Darren was the more logical choice, per pound.
“Watch the lip as you come over, Sir,” Caspar called. “She’s a bit sharp.”
“Will do.” He rose to his feet and crouched, preparing to jump.
Another roar from outside, and the building began to shake. This time it didn’t stop. Lucas struggled to stay on his feet and to keep from panicking as the car seemed to be moving in four directions. Then there was a sickening sound like a metal can being torn open, and suddenly the car was only moving in one direction.
Down.
Chapter 20
“Get on if you’re coming, we’re leaving!” Ada turned back to the ship. “Moses, get her going.”
“I’ve kept her warm for you.”
“Can you locate Bone Crusher?”
“Scanning…” Ada raced through the hatch, Joyce and the pretty boy
s on her heels. She’d made it to the cockpit before Moses spoke again. “He appears to have run to the roof.”
“What?” She sat and strapped herself in. Joyce did the same.
“He seems to have pursued two lifeforms on foot. He also seems… to be doing violence to them.”
Ada chuffed. “Can you take us there?”
“Confirmed.” The hatch closed, the hangar door opened, and Cupid whipped out of the dock, Ada flying back against her seat. From the cargo hold, she heard cursing.
“A little warning next time?” someone yelled.
“Sorry!” Ada called over her shoulder. “Too busy saving our lives!”
The atmosphere around the embassy had changed. There was fewer civ traffic, but small ships were making flybys in tight formations, and the distant hulls of battleships were just visible far above. Joyce blew out a breath. “Is the whole system going crazy?”
“Seems that way. Moses, can you show a tactical readout on my console?”
“Confirmed.”
A cloud of ships appeared in orbit over Mars, far more than had been present when they had come down. “That can’t be good,” she muttered. She also saw what she had assumed to be bomber formations passing by, but there were more of them here than had been on Ceres. She squinted at the screen. Bigger planet, more bombs? Or maybe they weren’t all bombers.
“Moses, can you get a read on IDs from any of the small spacecraft zipping around down here?”
“All craft within range are tagged for Rome Inc. Two squadrons of heavy bombers, a comet-hopper on the roof, and three small squadrons of Gatling-class fighters.”
Ada cursed. The bombers might make trouble, but the Gatlings definitely would. No sooner had she had the thought than a fighter appeared from their flank, strafing the docking tower as it passed. Moses whipped Cupid into a tight rotation and took them around the tower, belly-up, to evade.
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