by Kim Knox
She held up loose, black trousers, the fabric smooth and soft under the rough edges of her fingers. Chance pulled them on and shook out the long, black tunic. She pressed her nose into the embroidered cloth and inhaled. It smelled of grass and open air, and not a bit like she imagined the little demon chancellor to smell. Putting it on, she then cinched it around her waist and worked the cool fabric against her bare skin. Its softness, after months of wearing the needle-sharp prison uniform, was a ripple of bliss.
Ramius had also found a pair of leather slippers that wrapped around her bare feet like a second skin.
Running her fingers through the strands of damp hair, she headed for the command room…and found it empty. “Drew? Is the command deck available now?”
“Yes, John is running though a systems check. So far, my repairs are perfect.”
Chance grinned at the lurking pride in his voice. The intelligence learned fast. “Good job, Drew.”
“Thank you, Melissa.”
Chance followed the short corridor back to the open command room. A soft glow shrouded the room, dropping the high arch of the transparent ceiling into deep shadow. The icy void they sat in shone white from the exterior lighting, revealing craggy outcrops and deep hollows. Ramius sat in the command chair, his face stern as he tapped out a series of orders. Data streamed in a thin, shining band in front of his chair, and he focused on it.
“Is he flight-ready?”
Ramius glanced up her. His gaze skirted over her clothes, but no response showed in his expression. “Practically. There are some anomalies—”
“John, Melissa. Something has appeared on tracking. I think it’s a transport.”
The central curving shield flowed with data and fixed on an area of space beyond the Trojans. Stars rippled and shifted—
“Shit, shit, shit.” Chance bit at her bottom lip. There, moving in a slow slide against the deep black of space, was the curved bulk of a Jovian patrol cruiser. Drew delineated the edges of the vast ship and a fist closed tight in her chest. “That’s not good.”
“I have more patrol cruisers on tracking.” Soft blips echoed and a glowing silhouette formed around two—no, three—more transports.
Ramius glanced at her before turning his attention back to the visual. Drew’s soft blips and the marking out of yet more transports had her nerves straining. “Can you hack into their information streams at this distance?”
Chance blinked. “No.” She paused. “I mean they’re patrol cruisers.” She focused on the largest of the slow-moving bulk cruisers and, to her surprise, her implant skirted the smooth hull. Ice burned against her flesh and she sucked in a quick, sharp breath. Shit, it hurt. She pushed, fighting the tough shielding, but it seared her nerves and she couldn’t penetrate— “Fuck,” she muttered and pinched at the bridge of her nose. “And that means no, I can’t fight through to the streams. They’re wrapped in granite. With granite icing.”
“Worth a try.” Ramius gave her a bleak smile. “They’ve had thirty-four hours to search—and I am assuming they’re hunting us.”
“You.”
“Us. Drew, show her the wire.”
Chapter Seven
Chance stared at him, hating his calm control. “Shouldn’t we be, I don’t know, running, rather than getting me to watch the news?”
“Watch the feed. You need to understand that you have to hide and hide well.”
“You’re still not seriously going after West?” A short bark of a laugh escaped her. Ramius’ expression didn’t change as he concentrated on the information stream flowing over his command chair in a rush of glittering silver bands. “You are? Even with every ship he has out hunting you—”
“Us,” he said.
Chance dragged her hand over her face. “You’re crazy.”
His mouth twitched. “You knew that already.”
“Yes, yes, I did.” Her stomach twisted into tight knots and her well-honed instincts screamed at her to run, to get the hell away from the circling ships. But it was pointless arguing with him about her right to the ship. It needed to be space-ready—she watched Ramius’ quick fingers darting over the smooth panels—and he obviously knew what he was doing, so she should, for the moment, leave him to it. “Drew. What do I have to see?”
“May I, Melissa?”
The ship’s tentative brush against her implant brought a smile to her face and eased the anxiety twisting her insides. His politeness was engaging. “Thank you for asking. Go ahead.”
The sudden surge of information hitched her chest, and she fought to breathe. Her fingers curled into fists, nails digging hard at her palms…until she could control the fast current of data pouring into her brain.
The familiar jingle of the central Jovian news service filled her thoughts, the plastic beauty of its cyber-generated newsreader itching against her implant as it stood before a gleaming sun disc. She’d always hated his smug tranquillity. The priority banner flashed around him in glaring red, and she felt the attempt to grab her implant, to force her chip to respond to the emergency. But as always, it slicked away, and Chance snorted. Yes, she was so lucky to be one of the few immune to the chip’s programming tech.
Ramius’ image flashed on the screen. “John Ramius, the Butcher, murderer of fifty-three loyal Jovian officers, today escaped the Callisto detention base with the help of this woman.” Chance’s face slid over the stream to sit beside Ramius’ image. She winced. It was her detention mug shot, all wild hair, anger, and her shirt ripped and blood-stained from trying to beat the crap out of the Ben-Bob-whoever, the man who had sold her to the authorities for fifty credits.
“That is not a good picture.”
“I know,” Ramius muttered, and a touch of humour slid into his voice. “Were you having a good time, Chance?”
She ignored him.
The synthetic newsreader’s smooth voice rolled on. “Melissa Chance, thief, vandal, prostitute and Ramius’ long-time accomplice, is as dangerous as the Butcher himself. Do not approach either of these individuals, as they are both armed and deadly. Already twelve loyal Jovians have died at their hands.”
The newsreader paused, his smoothly plastic face solemn. “Governor West is offering a large reward for their immediate capture.” A new stream opened, but Chance didn’t follow it. Instead, she shut down her implant to the ship and opened her eyes.
Rising anger roiled in her stomach. Prostitute? But the other accusation stabbed harder. “I’m your long-time accomplice?”
Ramius was frowning at the data stream, a deep line forming in his smooth brow, but he answered her question. “West creates his own reality. Did you notice there are now twelve men dead? The guards I locked in the detention transport. He had them killed.” He swore softly and blew out a heavy breath. “We have a problem.”
A weight dropped into her stomach. “They’ve found us.”
“No.” Ramius sat back in the command chair and pushed his palm over his hair. “The shielding on this Vitesse? We could go face-to-face and they wouldn’t see us.” He looked away from the stream to her. “No, Chancellor Connor was eager to show off his prize and took this ship out far too early.”
“And…? I’m not in the mood for cryptic, Ramius.”
“They didn’t shear the umbilical, so Drew isn’t fully moulded, isn’t fully independent.” He frowned. “He’s in a test cycle and needs finalising. The next jump will take us back to the ship yards.”
“Shit.” She cursed Connor and his obvious pride and caught her fingers in her hair, pressing her nails against her scalp. “Then…we sit here until they’ve scanned and moved on. After that we can—”
“You don’t get it.” Ramius broke into her fast words. “No matter what we try, Drew will lay in a course for the ship yards.”
“Fuck.”
“Precisely.”
“Then… What?”
Ramius laughed. “We let him.”
Chance blinked and the feeling that he really was insane crept o
ver her again. “You’re happy to appear above the skies of Europa?” She waved her hand at him. “Of course you are, the shipyards are in the same hemisphere as the governor’s residence. You want to introduce yourself, with knives, to Ishaan West.”
“Yes, I do.” His mouth thinned. “I would have preferred you on a station, safe, hidden…but that’s not an option now.”
“You know it’s suicide.”
“I made a promise. I won’t go back on it. I can’t.”
“Your stupid telepathic imperative.” Chance straightened her shoulders. They had no escape from the transports and if they had to go to Europa, she was far safer sticking with Ramius and following him into the governor’s residence than going it alone. She winced. As crazy as that sounded. “Fine.”
“Fine?”
Ramius’ disbelief followed her as she dropped into the pilot’s low chair. Connectors slid warm and smooth over her body as Drew sought contact with her, giving guidance to his flight systems.
“What do you mean, fine?”
Chance twisted, letting the vines snake under her tunic and find her bare skin. She really didn’t understand his loyalty to a dead woman. Chloe Van Der Zee wouldn’t appreciate him killing and dying for her…but it was what he had to do. “We have no choice. And I’m more likely to stay alive with you than without. For however short a time that’ll be. So…let’s fire up the ship and get it over with.”
“And I’m the certified one,” Ramius muttered.
She craned her neck to stare back at him. “I don’t let the past bind me.”
A muscle jumped in his jaw and shadows flickered in his gaze. They cleared and a wry smile tugged at his mouth. “The past binds us all, even you.” His smile faded. Chance’s skin prickled at the sudden intensity in his green eyes. “Especially you.”
“Get out of my head!”
“I’m not in your head. I’m a receiver…but your past is streaming from you.”
“Then shut it out.” She ripped her gaze from him and focused hard on the glare of the cruisers on the shield curving over her. He wouldn’t rifle though her past. Chance had locked it away…and it would stay locked. “Drew. Are you ready?”
“I won’t have command of my systems once I enter the range of the Europa shipyards.”
His thoughts touched hers, brief, nervous. He knew what awaited him. The techs would want to know how he’d broken his commands, ran and cooperated with thieves. They would take him apart to do it. Chance stroked warm, soothing words over Drew’s consciousness. “You are an incredible ship. I’m proud to know you.” She willed strength and honesty into her next words. “And when John has done what he needs to, we’re coming to get you. Remember that, hold on to that thought. I promise. We won’t leave you behind.”
“Promise?”
His youth tugged at her heart. “I swear, Drew.”
He was silent for a short moment, emotions swirling. Chance allowed him the time he needed. Ramius had let him make his choices. So would she.
“I’m ready. Are you?” Engines vibrated through the soft fabric of the pilot’s seat, and Chance opened her implant to the full touch of the ship and melted into the frame of the Vitesse, taking it on as her own body. “Dark energy propulsion is a bitch.”
Chance smirked. “You’ve been spending too much time with me. I’m a bad influence.”
The ship’s soft chuckle warmed through her, deepening her grin. “Yes, you are, Melissa.”
“Confirm shields.” Ramius’ tight voice broke over their exchange. “Are we ready to engage the dark energy?”
“Ready,” Chance said, settling back into the heavy padding of the pilot’s chair and closing her eyes.
The cold of space brushed in a promising whisper against her skin, and she felt the sudden claustrophobia of the ice and dirt-thick cavern. The need for open space, the freedom of vast emptiness after the tightness of the tiny asteroid, filled her. Chance wasn’t certain whose feeling it was; she suspected most of it belonged to Drew. He was a thoroughbred, designed for wild speed.
The dark energy shielding thickened around her. Chance’s heart bounded. “Ready, Drew?”
“Will I ever get used to this?”
Her own nerves echoed in him and she forced them down, needing to project a calm authority. The ship relied on her for guidance, learned from her. A smile curved her mouth. She never expected to be a role model. “We both will.”
She thickened the dark energy shield and there was a brief pause, almost as if the ship sucked in a breath before he engaged the engines.
Everything she knew vanished, lost in blackness and pain. Needles burned under her skin, but she breathed past them…just as she had for her prison suit. Calm, she was calm in the endless second that ripped through her.
She tried to reach out for the ship, wanting to reassure him, but real space ripped around her in a screaming rush. Sweating, her body still in riot, she dragged air into her lungs. Damn, that was insane. “What—?” Ramius tugged at her arm, pulled her free of the slippery connectors and dragged her from the primary command.
“Automatic guidance has taken him over. We’ve lost him.”
Chance’s stomach dropped. She didn’t want to admit how much the ship had literally sunk under her skin. She twisted to stare out of the clear shields instead. Jupiter hung heavy in the pitted blackness, and the StarClusters of the Europa shipyards gleamed on the cracked surface of the moon. Thick lines of cruisers, governmental traffic and private transports streamed around them in the space lanes, and the Vitesse followed them down. “How do we get off?”
Ramius dragged her into the short corridor and through another door into a wider space. He palmed a door and pushed her in first. The panel gave a soft hiss and closed over on the small, spartan washroom. A single light emitted a soft glow from the ceiling and spread over the metal toilet and washbasin. Another light flickered on around the narrow mirror. Chance backed into the cramped space between the toilet bowl and the basin, her spine hitting the metal wall, and stared at Ramius. “Why are we hiding in the toilet?”
“The techs will board the ship, then we simply mingle our way off.”
“Simply?”
Ramius dropped to the floor and settled himself against the smooth metal wall. “I suggest you sit.”
Chance rolled her eyes at him and slid down the wall, thankful that her small frame could squeeze into the tight space. She shifted her arse against the hard floor and winced. “You really think we can wander off here?”
“Off the ship, yes.” His eyes sparked with amusement, and Chance wanted to thump him. “That’s the easy part.”
“What did I get myself into,” Chance muttered. Ramius didn’t reply, and so Chance closed her eyes and shut down her implant. Her ability to control her chip meant she could sneak in almost anywhere, sensors blinded to her bio-signs. But that left Ramius. “Does your lack of chip make you invisible?”
“Some equipment is blind.” His green eyes fixed on her and it was as if a warm breeze stirred her skin, lifting hairs and forcing a shiver. Something in that moment seemed…odd…about him and it was suddenly hard to focus on him; the sink, the wall, anything was simply more interesting…
“But I can do that.”
Ramius’ voice burst over her, and Chance gasped. “What the hell…?”
He gave her a short smile. “I can disappear.”
Chance scrubbed at her face to try to stop the rush of unease. His ability was freakish. “That explains a lot,” she muttered.
The floor vibrated under her, and Chance braced herself against the shuddering metal walls. Was that deliberate on Drew’s part? Europa’s thin oxygen atmosphere shouldn’t have posed any problem to his heavy-duty shielding. She resisted the need to open herself to Europa’s stream. They would be hunting, searching for any evidence of their whereabouts…and she was not about to give them away.
“We’re about three minutes from docking,” Ramius said as if reading her mind—she
winced—which of course he was.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Sitting in a washroom?”
“Deliberately obtuse. Very helpful.” The ship dropped and Chance yelped, slamming her hands against the walls to brace herself. “We get the idea, Drew,” she muttered. Chance refocused and refused to let the shaking of the ship distract her. “You have the ability to get away. Hell, you’re from Earth. Any crimes committed out here wouldn’t matter. You go home and the Jovians would have no chance of extraditing you.”
“I have to give you what you need. I told you, it’s my curse.”
“I don’t want you to do this.”
He stared at the floor. “But Chloe did. She wanted them all dead, wanted West gutted.” He closed his eyes and a brief flare of pain creased his forehead. “I made her that promise.”
“Ramius—”
His head snapped up and the hard killer lurked in his green eyes. Chloe’s imperative gripped him. “I want it. He cut her throat and laughed, licked her blood from his fingers as he let her drop to the floor. My only regret is that the bastard can die only once.”
Chance ignored the tightness in her chest, the fear of him that had nervous sweat clinging the smooth fabric to her skin. “And who will you be after?”
Ramius stilled then he blinked. “After?”
He’d obviously cared deeply for this Chloe, and she had used his skill against him. The band around her chest squeezed. Shit, full-blown jealousy and anger towards a dead woman was breaking out. “When her revenge is complete?” She heard the waspishness in her own voice, but she couldn’t stop it. “Did she want you just as a killing machine?”
Ramius’ mouth thinned. “You didn’t know her.”
The words slid cold, hard, under her skin, and with them the violent shaking of the ship stopped. Dull thumps echoed, evidence of the clamps securing the Vitesse.
His stern gaze dropped and he let out a slow breath. “We’ve landed. They’ll board in a few minutes.” He pushed himself back up the wall and Chance did the same, bracing herself against the metal sink. His gaze found hers again. The hardness had faded, but the professional mask he wore cut more. “Follow me. Stay close. And don’t try to open yourself to the streams on this base. They’ll find you in a heartbeat.”