Breathing Space: Sunblinded Three (Sunblinded Trilogy Book 3)

by S. J. Higbee

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  I’d never made that miserable trudge down to the Crypt without my gut tying itself into fear knots and on that particular morning, what with my hangover adding its own agenda, I was fighting the urge to vomit. We clumped along the echoing corridor while I tried not to remember the last time I’d walked along here, on my way to see Tomas.

  Eileen strode alongside as if we were skinwelded, which was annoyingly intrusive. Peter and Chris always kept their distance. When I sidled away, she gripped my arm. “Sorry, Chief. I don’t want you that far from me. Something’s off…”

  Wishing my head would stop thudding, I whispered, “What?”

  She bit her lip. “Don’t know. Yet. But I learned to pay attention when my neck starts prickling. And it’s needling away, right now.” She drew her sidearm.

  Viktor, one of the new guards, also drew his weapon, clearly twitched.

  My blast of adrenaline cleared the upset stomach and thick head, leaving me pin-sharp and properly alert for what seemed like the first time in a long light year. Jessica is right – I need to lay off the wine.

  The bloke who ran things down here met us at the next intersection. He wasn’t one of my favourite people, a mutual feeling he didn’t bother to hide. Though this particular morning his sweating, wide-eyed fear blew apart his customary sullenness. “I— it’s the pilot…”

  Which pilot? My expression evidently looked blanker than null-space.

  Because he snapped, “The shuttle pilot! The specimen we scooped up in the hidden passages. Chief,” he added in response to Eileen’s glare and wave of her sidearm.

  “We’re still holding him?” I should pay more attention to what goes on down here, I really should…

  He didn’t roll his eyes, but it was close. “What d’you suggest we do with the drosser? Monitoring that botware in his head is harder’n slicing dark matter. Can’t exactly have a cosy chat, can we? An’ whatever we zap him with don’t put a dent in him unless we want to off him – and we don’t want to do that yet, given he’s still got vital info.”

  Eileen stepped right into his personal space. “You’ll be the one getting zapped if you don’t keep a respectful tongue tween your teeth!”

  He visibly hauled himself together. “Sorry, Chief. S’been… Well… you’ll see for your own self. Thing is…” His hand rested on the heavy-duty switch controlling the steel door. “Don’t get too close. Specially when he’s talking. Cos he’s quick.” And with that, he opened the door.

  The shuttle pilot was pressed onto a metal-framed bed by a stasis field. His tousled hair was tangling with a beard that straggled onto his chest. His clothes were filthy, thick with sweat and other body fluids. He was also emaciated.

  “Mother Earth above – this is a solid disgrace!” And why I’d like to see the end of the Crypt.

  “Yeah. You won’t get no arguments from me on that one. Chief.” The jailor showed a flicker of his customary belligerence as he added, “But if you can show me a way to get him cleaned up and fed without risking my staff, I’d surely appreciate it.”

  “What about sedating him?”

  “Nope. Won’t work if that brain thingy in his skull is switched on by whoever’s controlling him. He’s bitten two staff members, broken the wrist of another, head-butted a medic and broke her nose. And she was fixing his shoulder he’d wrenched trying to free himself from the forcefield—”

  The pilot’s head twisted round, jerkily. Like a malfunctioning housebot. Till he was looking at me, when a crafty grin twisted his features. “That you, you prodding witchbitch?” He sniggered, a high squeaky noise.

  I’d grown up loathing that sound. “Eddy?” I felt sick with disappointed rage.

  I did try to tell you. Jessica’s smugness was unbearable.

  “That’s right. So sorry to put a kink in your airhose, I’m not dead, after all,” his voice was more guttural, but Eddy’s sneering tones were unmistakeable.

  “A pity. Can’t think of a single creature in the galaxy who deserves a long lingering death more than you.” I gestured towards the straining figure on the bed, whose nose was now pouring blood. “Still hurting innocents just cos you can, I see.”

  “Why don’t you free him? It would be the right thing for the Songbird of Sector Two to do, wouldn’t it?” Though the words were coming out of this benighted prisoner’s throat, Eddy’s fury was so palpable I could almost taste it.

  He’d successfully tricked us into believing he was dead, given I’d ignored Jessica’s warning. So what stirred him up such that he’s prepared to blow that cover?

  “And what happens every time I flip across to SpaceChat? Your vile wailing, that’s what!” Veins stood out on the pilot’s forehead like cords as his face turned purple with Eddy’s anger. “Who d’you think you prodding well are? Should’ve been me who stepped into our father’s position as Leader of the P’s – not you!”

  Ah, the brother I know and hate… I pasted on the superior sisterly smirk that regularly used to flip all his switches. “Face it, Kittenkiller, you’re jealous. Always have been. Hardly a surprise.” I put my hands on my hips. “We both know which one of us is the winner. And it isn’t you, now, is it? Or you’d be wearing this Chief uniform, instead of some worn-out victim who had the shoddy luck to fall into your hands.”

  Said victim’s face twisted grotesquely and a blood vessel burst in his left eye which wept bloody tears as Eddy’s demented howl reverberated around the room. “Ahh! I’ll make you prodding sorry. You wait! With Mum – drunken bed-fodder that she is – babbling how proud she is of you. How you’ve made a success of the post of Chief…”

  She did? I didn’t bother to hide my delighted smile, because I now knew exactly what had driven Eddy to break cover. He couldn’t bear it that Mum had publically praised me. And the fact that my song had given me extra fame would also drive him crazy.

  Eddy screeched through the poor pilot’s spittle-flecked lips, “I’m sick of being part of such a prodding useless family. I’m gonna fix it so there won’t be any more Wrights. Understand me, bitch?” His voice cracked as he continued, “I’ll stake out that slimesac of a whore who calls herself my mother—ˮ

  I’m not going to repeat the vile details of Eddy’s rant as he described how he would torture Mum and the boys – his brothers. Suffice to say it was horrible.

  “You wouldn’t…” I whispered. Knew he was madder than a space-spooked cat – but this!

  “Ha!” he shrilled, while the hapless pilot spasmed and thrashed within his bindings. “That wiped the smile off your hag-face, didn’t it just? I swear on the grave of our father – William Norman – that I will do this!”

  And abruptly Eddy left, no longer inhabiting the pilot’s body. The poor man gasped and retched, clearly in torment. “Kill me… Please… don’t let that monster invade me, again…” he husked, his one good eye fixed on me.

  As I drew breath to apologise for the disgusting state he found himself in, Eileen lifted her weapon in a swift, smooth motion, shouting “Drop the field!” and shot him cleanly through the head as soon as his jailor flipped the switch.

  The poor wretch’s head exploded. I was cravenly grateful that Chas had stepped in front of me, because the force of the explosion spattered the room with bloody shards of metal skull and grey brain matter, amongst the shattered botware. My escorts’ armour took the force of the shrapnel without any mishap – but they were also liberally spattered with the remains of the pilot’s head, as were the walls, floor and ceiling

  The jailor – who’d dropped to the floor after dropping the stasis field – now scrambled to his feet and sighed heavily. “That’s going to take a whole lot of cleaning. Though it’s a mercy the poor drosser is no longer suffering. Left to myself, I’d have put him out’ve his misery a whole lot sooner.” He added, “A sweet shot, by the way.”

  Numb and shaking, I turned to Eileen. “I need an urgent meeting with Florian Starsearcher and Andy Bulstrode.” Because the fir
st thing I needed to do, was warn The Council that the P’s hadn’t fulfilled all the conditions of their first Contract with Sector Two, with Eddy still alive and very much kicking.

  *

  Andy Bulstrode raised his eyebrows. “Let me get this straight. You didn’t actually see Eddy Wright. His voice appeared out of the mouth of some stray prisoner we’ve been holding down in the Crypt for a while.”

  “That’s right.”

  “And immediately after your brother inhabited this person’s body, your guard upped and zilched him. Because he begged to be put out of his misery.”

  I nodded, keeping my expression blank

  A smirk crawled across his face before he managed to smooth it away, his voice thick with false concern, “We’re all worried at how hard you’ve been working. And your last sike report says you are still coping with the sad loss of your… friend. I understand there are nightmares… sleepwalking incidents… It could be very easy, under those circumstances, if you also imagined you heard your brother’s voice, would it not?”

  You’re probably having the most fun you’ve had all decade. And I’m a fuse-brained idiot for not putting this before a full meeting of The Council, where I’d have a fairer hearing. My head started pounding, again.

  Florian scowled at Andy, before turning back to me. “What my colleague is attempting to point out, is that there are ramifications to a sudden decision to rescind our announcement that Eddy Wright is officially dead. While we, of course, accept your version of what happened, er… recent events in the Crypt have been traumatic for you…”

  If a detail like Tomas’s death was sufficient to tip me into hard vacuum, I’d have been caged in the Crypt playing with my own drool years ago. It was a struggle to keep my voice even, “Check the cams if you want further proof. I wasn’t the only one there.”

  Florian avoided my eyes. “There’s also the issue of the creds. The Erato Campaign was an enormous drain on our finances—ˮ

  “Which was largely paid for by the Federation!”

  He continued, still talking to the parch in his hand, “However, we won’t be back in profit until we get the final payment.”

  It comes down to the credstack – of course it does. This is a merc force, after all. I leaned back in my chair, inwardly cursing my stupid misjudgement. “That’s your angle, then. Eddy’s resurrection would hold up the Justice Federation payment – so you’re going to ignore it. After all, I’m going soon enough. And if I don’t agree to keep quiet about what happened in the Crypt, you’ll wheel out the P’s publicity machine to smear my rep so no one will listen to what I have to say, anyhow.”

  “What you’ve claimed happened in the Crypt,” corrected Bulstrode. “And – yes – you’ve got to the heart of the issue neatly enough.”

  “I see.” I turned to the ever-present stack of parchwork on my desk. “You may go.”

  “Elizabeth?” Florian’s voice was uncertain. “What are you intending to do?”

  I looked up at him. “It’s Chief to the pair of you. I don’t officially step down from the position of Leader for another twelve days.” I held his gaze until he looked down.

  Yeah. Petty, I know. However, I was beyond angry and disappointed at how they chose to handle this business. Playing airlock chicken with the P’s reputation for the sake of a single credstack was an unnecessarily gape-witted risk to take. We were perfectly capable of absorbing the costs while we finally tidied away Eddy. I didn’t like to think of the likely consequences, if word seeped out to the Justice Federation what was going on.

  “As for what I’m going to do – go after Eddy, of course. Don’t you fret your sorry selves, I shan’t expect the P’s to get involved. And given what would happen if the Justice Federation got wind of Eddy’s stunt, I’ll keep my lips zipped on the whole subject. My word of honour. Which is more than either of you have to offer. So go and sully someone else’s air. I want you gone. Now.”

  The speed at which they scuttled out’ve my office was another meagre slice of satisfaction. However, now I had other priorities – I had to get to my family, before Eddy got there first and wiped them out…

  *

  Arranging a fast passage to Earth wasn’t merely a matter of throwing creds at the problem. Since the Eoughts forced humanity from Sector Five, there was no direct liner service from our part of Sector Two to Earth. I’d need to head for Hawking, where I’d get a passage on one of the stream of ships bringing personnel and aid from a guilt-struck Earth.

  Normally, of course, it would be the easiest thing in the world to requisition one of our military transports, but most of them were off-base, either making their way back to Restormel, or patrolling Sector Two to ensure no one emerged from some scabby moon fired up to replace Eddy’s pirating operation with their own version. The best person to discuss the availability of transport would be Diana.

  Walking into Procurement felt like coming home and knots in my chest that had been squeezing my heart since Eddy’s horrific rant loosened a notch.

  Diana welcomed me into her office with a cup of excellent coffee and a hug – a huge relief. I wouldn’t have blamed her if she’d continued to hold me at arm’s length, after what happened to Phil. However she seemed to be more or less back to her old self. Which didn’t necessarily mean we saw things through the same lens…

  “I hear from Florian that you’re headed off to Earth with some vague notion of keeping your family safe from Eddy. Given he’s dead, I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Have you considered that your enemies might be manipulating you to go haring off on this jaunt?” She leaned towards me, radiating concern.

  I gritted my teeth, wishing Florian Starsearcher at the bottom of a supermassive black hole. “Eddy’s very much alive. Truly. If someone had wanted to persuade me, they could have progged that poor pilot with a far closer copy of his voice – it was more the way he spoke…” I took a breath, realising I needed to approach this from a more logical viewpoint. “Say there is even an outside chance Eddy survived. It would be a very bad idea to ignore his vile rant. He’s got form where our family is concerned. And when he makes those kind’ve threats, he generally sees them through. As the folks on Hawking could have testified. If they’d lived.”

  She waved her cup. “You must admit – it sounds beyond weird. That pilot being used as some kind’ve mouthpiece?”

  “You’re right, it does.” I was tired to my marrow at having to justify the whole thing. “It happened, nonetheless.”

  “Because if you… misread what happened down in the Crypt.” She put her hand up, continuing quickly, “No one would blame you. Let’s face it, what with the strain of working so hard… You must know that your friends are very concerned about you. And the damage to the P’s reputation would be dire, if so much as a hint of this got out. Which I know would devastate you.”

  “Why should the P’s rep be smirched? I’ve given my word that I wouldn’t discuss the matter. And until you raised it, I haven’t.” My chest tightened up again.

  She shook her head, her expression sorrowful. “And yet, the whole of Restormel is chattering about the incident.”

  I stood up. “Because Andy Bulstrode was too stupid or lazy, or both, to get hold of the other people present during the incident, including some of the Crypt staff, who also had a major clean-up to do.” I didn’t even consider my escort. They didn’t chatter about my affairs, because if they did, they wouldn’t still be my escort.

  “Maybe he expected you – as Chief – to take that responsibility.”

  “He made it quite plain that he wanted me to back right away from the whole business. He threatened to shred my reputation using the P’s publicity machine if I didn’t do so, with Florian sitting alongside silently agreeing!” I sighed, realising that allowing my anger to slosh over Diana was stupidly unfair. She was only worrying about me, and the P’s. “Sorry for snapping. I really don’t want to discuss this any further, Diana, especially as I promised not to do so. I’ll be gone
as soon as I can. Please, let’s not quarrel. I came to ask you a favour. For reasons I don’t want to go into, I need to get to Earth as fast as I can. Is there any way I can hitch a lift on a military transport?”

  Diana opened up her workdesk, the familiar furrow appearing between her eyes as she looked at the schedule. “Hm. Presumably you’ll be travelling alone?”

  I opened my mouth to reply, when a voice from behind me spoke, “No. I’m going along, too.”

  I spun around, unable to believe my ears. There he was – Hugo Gently, the sergeant who’d trained me and generations of newbies to be combat-ready. Have to say, he wasn’t my favourite person at the time, however I’d learnt better since my training days. Men of Hugo Gently’s calibre were rarer than breathable vacuum.

  “Sergeant! You sure about this?”

  He saluted. “Chief! I’d be honoured to accompany you, if you’ll have me, that is.”

  I took a moment to answer, as my throat suddenly closed up. “It’s me who’s honoured to have you alongside, Sarge. Can’t think of anyone else I’d rather have at my back.”

  “For the record – what’s going down regarding the matter you cannot discuss is outright disgraceful.” He speared Diana with that gimlet glare his trainees learnt to fear. “Now that’s sorted, I’ll go and pack.” He marched through Procurement, ramrod straight, eyes front.

  “Oh Elizabeth,” Diana radiated reproach. “Is it necessary to drag poor Sergeant Gently into your bit of trouble? Couldn’t you tell him you don’t really need his help?”

  “Have you seen him fight? He’s lethally good. And my ‘bit of trouble’ has my family dying horribly if I don’t get there fast enough, with sufficient backup.” Because Eddy wouldn’t be alone. Our people hadn’t found any trace of Norby’s remains at Erato. Sadly. And the thought of that scumsac anywhere near my little brothers made me queasy.