“New problem?” Khevan asked. “Somehow, I’m not surprised.”
“The readout shows the LB wasn’t launched but this, over here –” he tapped an impatient finger on a smaller screen to the left “– says the boat isn’t in the davit.” Nick had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. “It’s reading as a vacant, unboarded station. Damn thing is contradicting itself. Either it’s vacant, or there’s an LB there.”
“Well, so – so it’s confused.” Mara’s voice quavered. Clearing her throat, she stared from Nick to Khevan. “We’re wasting time. There’s another portal by the anti-grav lift, on the far side. I noticed the light was green when we got out of the shaft on our way to get the children. We should move on to the next portal.”
“Always good to have a backup plan. I like your attention to detail, even in the chaos. Let’s move.” Taking her by the elbow, Nick escorted her down the corridor.
But when he reached the next glowing green LB portal, he got the same conflicting messages from the interface. “Almost as if no lifeboat was stowed in the first place,” he said, flicking his fingers against the screen. “As if someone set the indicator to green after overriding the Ship’s AI net.”
“So it would think it had an LB stationed here when it didn’t?” Khevan crowded close behind him, peering at the various readouts.
Nick nodded. “Which would explain all those extra passengers on Level Three, fighting for space on our boats. I wondered where the hell they came from.”
“You’re not making sense.” Mara shifted Gianna in her arms to sit on her outthrust hip. “SMT couldn’t carry passengers without a full complement of LBs – that’s against the Interstellar Commerce Code!”
“Wouldn’t be the first thing I’ve found on this damn ship which wasn’t as advertised,” Nick said grimly. “Lack of lifeboats is a much more serious omission for SMT to make than leaving out the anti-grav workout facility or the mineral hot baths.” Anger ran hot through his veins as the ship flexed and groaned. “We’re wasting valuable time here.”
“And we should go where?” Khevan asked, staring in the direction they’d come.
“The bridge.” Nick was brusque. I’ve had enough of this bullshit. “There will be crew there. We can get some goddamn answers and direction to an LB. The command staff will be the last off, or may not leave at all. If the ship isn’t completely doomed by whatever happened to us tonight, SMT’ll keep a skeleton crew on board to wait for the rescue crews, keep her from being claimed by some enterprising salvage tug owner out to make the score of ten lifetimes.”
“How do we get there?” Mara sounded dubious, frowning at him. “The anti-grav shaft only goes to the Casino Level.”
“I’ve been to the bridge. I had a tour of the Nebula Dream yesterday, in fact. We’ll have to take a special access grav lift to get there. Now, we need to move faster if we can. Who knows if there are more hull breaches, or any other minor problems Captain Bonlors forgot to mention in his so-charming holo message.”
“I wanted to punch him,” Mara admitted as the small group stepped into the anti-grav shaft again. “I’ve been on enough interstellar flights to know what a load of – of comet dust he was spewing.”
Nick held tight to Paolo’s hand as the anti-grav carried them smoothly past Level One and Level B, and then to the terminus at the Casino Level. “He was wasting precious time, for sure. I have a few questions I want to ask him, when we get to the bridge.”
“And I’ll be right behind you with my own inquiries.” Khevan’s angular face was set in somber lines. “This was all handled poorly.”
“To say the least.” Getting his bearings in the deserted corridor on Level A as the grav-shaft door closed behind them, Nick pointed out the landmarks. “Control Level access is to the right, away from the casino and the shops –”
A woman’s piercing scream, shrill and desperate, interrupted him.
“Lords of Space, now what?” Mara clutched at Gianna and stared in the direction of the sound, coming from the casino area.
“Damn, I wish I had my blaster.” Nick checked with Khevan, who shrugged.
“I’ll follow your lead,” the Brother assured him. “You decide.”
There wasn’t any other decision he could make. Nick gave orders quickly to Mara. “You and the children wait here. We’re going to check it out, see what’s happening. If anyone comes, or something else happens, get yourself and the children into the grav lift. There aren’t going to be too many people left on board who can follow you in there, since it appears the crew has abandoned ship. Should be safe. Or as safe as anything on this miserable hulk, now. Okay?”
Eyes wide, face pale, she bit her lower lip and nodded.
“Good.” Nick took a step in the direction of the casino and the renewed sounds of a woman in dire distress. “If Khevan and I can do anything about the situation, we will. Give us five minutes. If we aren’t back by then, start for the Control Level access. We’ll catch up.”
In action mode, he was three long strides away, Khevan at his shoulder, when the sound of Mara’s voice stopped him.
“Nick –”
Glancing at her over his shoulder, he shook his head. “We can’t walk away without trying to help,” he said. I’m surprised she’d object.
“I was only going to say be careful, both of you.” Mara was annoyed, her displeasure clear in her tone of voice.
“Sorry.” Nick stepped back, reached out to touch her left arm gently, by way of apology for misjudging her. Rewarded with a small upward quirk of her lips, he and Khevan moved out again, going toward the casino.
As Nick crept silently down the corridor, he could hear the sound of breaking glass and men’s loud voices raised in a drunken quarrel. In the lead, Khevan right behind, he proceeded through the last few yards of curving corridor in a cautious crouch. Taking cover behind a bountiful arrangement of synthetic plants, Nick peered around the edge of the ornate, blue-glazed planter.
One woman lay dead or dying just beyond the casino entrance, her body contorted, dress ripped and stained, blood pooling beside her head.
Standing in a half circle near the entrance to the casino were seven men. Several were swaying, having already had too much to drink by the signs of it, whether before the disaster struck the Dream, or after. Empty, broken bottles, looted from the casino’s bars, littered the deck. Falling to his knees as Nick watched from concealment, one man threw up and collapsed, moaning. The rest of the unsavory group’s attention was focused on the woman standing against the opposite wall, trying to face them down without much success.
“Come on, babe, we all know you’re a damn Socialite, so why not party with us?” one of the drunks said, taking a step toward the girl.
“Yeah, we can party as nicely as your ‘Lite pals,” boasted another, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Probably better, in fact. We ain’t spoiled Inner Sector boys.”
Nodding, several of his companions murmured profane agreement.
“You don’t want to do this,” the woman pleaded quietly, with dignity, although her voice shook. “Please, let me go, let me find my friends.”
“Hey, Socialites are supposed to crave new experiences,” one of the drunken thugs reminded her with a leer. He stared at the group. “Well, you can have seven different experiences, right here, right now, babe. No cover charge, no minimum.”
Their quarry slid away, making scant progress, taking slow, cautious steps toward an all-out bolt for freedom. “Please, I’m begging you, leave me alone.”
Nick realized the woman in jeopardy was Twilka Something or Other, who had been on his shuttle and on the beach the morning he’d rescued young Gianna. How in the Seven Hells did she end up here, by herself, easy prey for these drunken, would-be rapists? Why wasn’t she with the rest of her crowd, wherever they might be? These men – intoxicated or not – might have thought twice about accosting an entire group of fellow passengers.
“Sorry, can’t oblige
you, babe.” The first man made a lunging grab. “You might tell someone what we was doing here, drinking, helping ourselves to what we want. Don’t need trouble.”
Screaming, Twilka tried to make a run for freedom, but the man was too quick for her, his reflexes sharp even in a drunken state. He caught her by one wrist, swinging her to face him.
She slapped him as hard as she could, a good resounding blow, but the momentary pain couldn’t break his grip on her, only made him angry. “Oh yeah, we can play rough, too, if you ‘Lites prefer,” he jeered, throwing aside the bottle in his other hand. “Enough small talk,” he grunted, grabbing her by her cap of short, shiny black hair and tugging her toward the other men, who were watching and catcalling.
“Hold her for me, and then when I’m done, you can each have a turn,” said Twilka’s captor. Planting a big, wet kiss on the girl’s averted face, he fumbled at her breasts. Two men came forward, laughing uproariously, and grabbed at her arms, preparing to force her to the deck.
Nick checked Khevan’s reaction. The D’nvannae’s face was set and grim.
“The Lady doesn’t appreciate gang rape and wanton murder,” Khevan whispered.
“Neither do I.” Keeping his voice low, Nick shook his head. “I recognize the girl – she was on our shuttle from Glideon, remember? She’s part of the Socialite crowd. I recognize one of those lowlifes, too. He’s the junior attendant at the gym on Level Four.” Nick remembered Easton’s desire to mingle with the Socialites. A desire for social climbing is a far cry from what the guy’s about to participate in now.
Quickly, Khevan reconnoitered again, over Nick’s shoulder. “Yes, I recognize them both. Have you a plan? We can’t simply charge them. She’ll get hurt before we can handle them all. The men are drunk enough to be stupid and fight.” Khevan’s assessment was contemptuous but realistic. “Frightened men are like dogs in a pack, finding courage in each other.”
“Yeah.” Nick was in agreement. “Okay, we go in openly, casual, like we want to join them – the gym rat will recognize me. And you, I guess?”
Khevan nodded. “It may buy us a precious minute of time.”
“No use wishing for a blaster.” Nick was rueful. The whole thing would be over already if I’d had my service weapon. “Less sophisticated methods should work here. Grab a bottle, smash it across someone’s head when we get close enough, and lay into the others. I’ll do the same for the thugs holding the girl, then I’ll grab her and we’ll run for it, okay?”
“Sounds good to me.” Khevan stood, taking care to remain screened by the lush foliage of the plants. He stretched, loosening up for action, rolling his shoulders, flexing his fingers. “Lead on.”
Nick straightened out of his own crouch, stepping away from the planter. The gang of would-be rapists had their backs to him as he strolled down the center of the corridor toward the group, the Brother on his heels. Nick whistled a tune slightly off-key. At the sound, the men lurched to stare, expressions ranging from surprise to hostile wariness, depending on their level of intoxication.
Nick smelled them, a mixture of liquor and acrid sweat, the girl’s expensive, tangy perfume an incongruous note in the medley.
Midnight-blue dress hiked up above her waist, Twilka was stretched out on the carpet. She was struggling wildly against the two men holding her. Kneeling between her legs, the first drunk was one-handedly fumbling with the closure on his trousers and clawing at her white silk undergarments with his other hand.
“Help me.” The girl begged piteously, catching sight of the newcomers. “Please, please, help me.”
“You’re doing fine on your own, sweetheart.” Nick slurred his words a bit. He ignored the shocked expression of terror crossing her face, which chased away the first glimmer of hope she’d obviously felt at their timely arrival.
“Don’t let them do this,” Twilka cried, her voice breaking in a sob of terror and pain. “What kind of people are you?”
Nick caught the eye of the attendant from the gym. “Hey, Easton, can anyone join in this party?”
“You know these guys?” asked the ringleader, the man who had first captured Twilka, checking suspiciously with Easton.
“Yeah, I guess. They’re okay. Not big tippers, though,” the SMT employee said drunkenly, peering at Nick. He was pretty out of it, sitting on the floor now, swigging brandy like water. “Why not let them get in line? We’re all going to die when this damn, cursed ship blows up anyway.”
“I like your philosophy.” Nick kept a big fatuous smile on his face. “Share and share alike.” Pausing in his leisurely advance, he leaned over and grabbed a pair of unbroached bottles. Taychelle vodka, he noted in passing as he handed one to Khevan, who made a show of nearly dropping it.
“Always wondered what it’d be like to fuck a Socialite.” Khevan licked his lips lasciviously as he uncorked the vodka.
“Go find your own woman,” said the inebriated ringleader, turning his attention to the weeping Twilka. “You weren’t invited to this party – it’s private. Probably a lot of other females left on board, someplace else.”
“I don’t think so,” was all Nick said as he brought the full bottle of vodka across the man’s head in one sweeping motion, knocking his target halfway across the corridor. Without pausing, he wheeled to smash the jagged, dripping remnants of glass against the forehead of Twilka’s captor on the right side, closest to him. “Game over, goons.”
Nick grabbed at the third would-be rapist, getting a fistful of the man’s silky green shirt and hauling him off the deck. Throwing his prisoner against the bulkhead, Nick slammed him headfirst into the ornamental light fixture. Shards of broken amber-colored glass showered onto both of them.
Behind him, Nick could hear Khevan mixing it up with the others. Stepping away, Nick left his third victim sliding grotesquely down the bulkhead like a lifeless puppet, a trail of blood smearing on the embossed wall covering. The man crumpled in a heap on the deck, bleeding profusely from myriad cuts.
Nick reached for Twilka, who whimpered and curled into a tight fetal position, as terrified of him as she had been of the others a minute previously. Gently, Nick pulled the traumatized girl up by the shoulders. “It’s all right. We’re actually here to help you.” Holding her tightly, he turned his head a fraction. “Khevan?”
“Time to go,” the Brother confirmed, breathing hard. Two more of the gang lay on the deck at his feet, obviously dead from the unusual angle of their heads relative to their shoulders. A third was seconds away from death, jugular vein slashed and pouring blood. The last conspirator, Easton, had seized his chance and fled unscathed into the casino while Nick and Khevan were otherwise occupied.
Taking five steps to lean over the body of the other woman, Khevan tried without success to find a pulse at her neck. “Dead.” He straightened her dress over her legs and stood.
Twilka was half fainting, clutching at Nick, eyes wide. “I – I thought –”
“I know,” Nick said. “It’s okay now, we’ll get you out of here. Can you walk?”
“I’ll carry her.” Khevan suited action to words, scooping her into his arms. “There may be more in the casino, friends of these vermin here. Easton may have gone for help.”
“Right, let’s move.” Nick rubbed at his sore shoulder, flexing his arm in a futile attempt to ease the pain, and followed the Brother to the spot where Mara and the children should be waiting.
As ordered, the Loxton agent was standing next to the grav-lift access, pretty face drawn with anxiety. Gianna huddled in her arms. Paolo was in front of Mara, his demeanor determined, as if he was on guard, the last line of defense for his sister and the woman who had befriended them.
“What in the name of Space happened to her?” Mara said, as the two men came rushing around the curve of the corridor.
“We’ll do an after action report for you later. Let’s concentrate on getting to the Control Level access now, before anything else happens.” Nick was impatient. He scooped Paolo
into his arms as he reached the group. “Let’s move.”
Khevan had not broken stride, going on past Mara and the children, heading for the subtly marked access door at the far end of the corridor. “Dead end here – not a good place to get trapped, Captain,” he called over his shoulder. “Are you sure we can gain entry?”
“I hate to mention it for the first time, but I don’t have any idea what the code is for this grav lift,” Mara said breathlessly, rushing to keep up with Nick, pulled by his iron grip on her free hand. “I can try the three combinations I do know, but what are we going to do if none of them work?”
“Not a problem.” Nick was unfazed. He set Paolo next to Mara and stepped to the interface panel, rapidly punching in a set of symbols. He glanced over his shoulder as he keyed in the last one with a flourish. “I’m Special Forces, remember? We have an override code.”
“For this kind of thing?” Mara’s expressive face showed her skepticism, one elegant eyebrow raised.
“For anything, anywhere.” Nick laughed, pumped on adrenaline from the brawl at the casino entrance.
Sure enough, the indicator flashed its approval of the code sequence he had rapped off. The door slid smoothly aside, granting them access to the grav lift for the short journey to the control deck.
A minute later, Nick stepped into the entry of the Control Level, finding the area deserted, silent, the emergency lighting dim. Frowning, he led the way across the corridor to the bridge, keying the door with his override code again.
“What in the Seven Hells?!” The portal opened ponderously, revealing a scene of wanton destruction and death.
“What is it? What do you see?” Mara tried to sidestep him, to get a clear view into the bridge.
He shifted his body, trying to block the carnage from the others. “Mara, Twilka, keep the children out here until I give the all clear,” he said, his tone allowing no dissent. He pushed them all away from the bridge entry in his anxiety over preventing them from seeing the grim details. When he had the women and children clustered away from the door, Nick beckoned to the Brother. “Come on.”
Wreck of the Nebula Dream Page 9