Haven (The Orbit Series Book 2)

by J. S. Collyer

  Hugo made Webb take a firm hold of his compress and followed Dana to the hatch. “Be careful,” Hugo called after her as she disappeared into the darkness, closed the hatch and swung the locks home.

  XII

  “She’s so much like you it’s scary,” Webb mumbled as the sounds of Dana’s footsteps faded to nothing.

  “Keep quiet,” Hugo said, dropping next to his friend and readjusting the compress.

  “Keep quiet, stay awake, lie down,” Webb grumbled. “It’s like being back at the youth unit.”

  The silence that followed was thick. Hugo knew they were both thinking that this man had never lived in a youth unit. A rush of anger rode through him.

  “I’m going to kill him.”

  “Who?” Webb said, voice tired.

  “That researcher. Yoshida.”

  Webb groaned. “You and your murderous temper. Yoshida’s not the bad guy here. He’s just an obsessive crank.”

  “How can you say that?” Hugo said, keeping his voice steady with an effort. “He’s cloning human organs.”

  “We don’t know why.”

  Hugo made a wordless noise of frustration. “I don’t need to know why. That bastard and his experiments. If it wasn’t for him, there would never have been a need for Webb to have been killed.”

  Webb shook his head. “Yoshida won’t be the only one who could do this. It might have taken longer, it might have been different, but Pharos was determined. She’d’ve found her man. And, besides, if they’d used a more competent scientist,” Webb tapped his temple again. “Maybe this would have been empty as they planned and I’d’ve led the revolution. And if that had happened,” he grinned, though his head lolled against the wall. “They might have won.”

  Hugo muttered, willing himself to unclench in case he press on the injury. “I don’t understand you. You’re still getting screwed and still shrugging it off.”

  Webb sighed. “And when exactly have I done that?”

  “Professor Spinn on the Zero,” Hugo said the name through clenched teeth. “He lied to you your whole life. He took you away from Doll, the one person who could have been a decent parent to you and kept you a political prisoner without you even knowing it. I wanted to dump him on the nearest asteroid and you wouldn’t let me.”

  “I knew…” Webb stopped and sighed. “Webb knew Spinn better than you did,” the clone said. “He might have had secrets but he was a good man. He did what he believed was right.”

  Hugo snorted. “His secrets could have saved Webb. His secrets nearly destroyed you. Don’t you have any anger about any of it? Any regret?”

  “Yes,” Webb said softly after a pause. “Hurting Kinjo.”

  Hugo shifted. “She betrayed you too.”

  Webb let out a shuddering breath. “Webb made her a promise. She was never supposed to have to be scared or alone again. He promised her that when he took her away from Bryce. Whatever she did, it was because of anger and fear. I don’t blame her for either.”

  Hugo was silent, his own anger flagging but refusing to burn out completely. “Making cloning illegal was the one thing I managed to do,” he said, voice strained. “It was the only thing…”

  “The only thing, what?”

  Hugo face felt hot. “It was the only thing I could do to make it up to you. To him.”

  “You didn’t kill him, Hugo.”

  Hugo found himself talking without being able to stop. “Everything and everyone else in his life had failed him. I had the chance to save him. And I couldn’t.”

  Webb shifted on his sacking. “Kaleb Hugo, you are many things, stubborn asshole being top of the list. But you did not dream up that insane cloning plan, nor did you put the contract out on his life. The people that did I killed myself.”

  Hugo was glad the darkness hid his face. “I don’t care. I was supposed to make a difference. I was supposed to change things. It’s the only reason I stayed in the Service. But it’s all been for nothing. Nothing’s changed and I’m still losing people…” Hugo swallowed, throat dry and without any more words. He stared into the shadows feeling his eyes prickle and his chest tighten. “I’ve failed. I failed Webb, I’ve failed you. And now I’ve failed Harvey.”

  Webb’s silence stretched on so long Hugo reached out to shake him, fearing he’d lost consciousness. But Webb grabbed his wrist.

  “Hugo,” he said, voice firm even with the edge of pain. “Whoever I am… whatever I am. I’m not your responsibility.”

  “But you’re my friend.” A grey bleakness filled Hugo and he slumped, blinking into the dark. “I was supposed to help you. And now look at us.”

  Webb gave a weak chuckle. “We always end up bleeding in the dark, huh? Look, man. This is all very touching and all, really, it is. But each poor bastard born into this shitty world is in charge of his own course. You no more got Webb killed and cloned than you are responsible for what happened to Harvey. I’ve known her longer than you… technically,” he added with an awkward shrug. “Webb knew her well, you know. She understood what she was getting into when she started work on those traders better than you did. All she saw was a chance to shut down people taking advantage of Haven to make credit. As hopeless or foolhardy as that might seem, it was a chance she had to take, and all the risks with it. The same as you trying to straighten out the whole damn Orbit with your own two hands.” He shook his head. “You two are made for each other, really. Idiots, the pair of you. But tough-assed and well-meaning idiots.”

  Hugo sighed and closed his eyes. “Do you think it was Yoshida and the cloning? Do you think that’s what Harvey found?”

  Webb winced as he tried to shift again. “Maybe. Whether she did though or not, I’d say that was what they were afraid she might have found.”

  Hugo checked his wrist panel, but it was dark. He prayed Dana was being smart. “I say we get you fixed up then get out of here.”

  “What?”

  “I’ll make Dana take us out of here as soon as you can walk to wherever she’s stashed the Phoenix.”

  “Hey, hey, hey,” Webb said, propping himself up in his elbows. “Not so fast. What, a little stabbing’s scared you off?”

  “‘A little stabbing’? You could have died. Still could.”

  “No,” Webb shook his head. “They don’t take me down that easy. This isn’t over. Not after I’ve said fifty-fucking-thousand times we should give it up and go and you told me to shove it. Now I’m telling you to shove it, Captain.”

  “Commodore.”

  Webb croaked another laugh. “Fine. Commodore. They’ve drawn first blood. I’m not leaving this damned colony without that blade. He’s the only one that will have enough information to get the Service moving against all the crap-weasels that have hired him. We leave without him, I might as well have carried on trading contraband in the Lunar Strip and stabbed myself in the groin to save the Ghosts the hassle. No. This ends with Ariel or it doesn’t end at all.”

  “You can’t ever come back here after this. Jazz, your chance at a life here…all gone.”

  Webb shrugged. “I’m not convinced it was ever meant to be. Clone or not, drifter or not…Haven is for the lost and those with no choices left. I’m not sure I’m either, any more.”

  “Trust you to have your life-changing realisation when you’re bleeding to death in some abandoned hole in the underbelly of a dead-end colony.”

  Webb laughed then groaned. “Shut up, Commodore. Your sister better be back with that medkit soon or I will go and die on you and leave you with another bucket of guilt and self-loathing to carry about with the two-dozen others you’ve already filled.”

  Hugo smiled, turned the compress over again and shone the light on it. The wound was still bleeding, but keeping him lying down seemed to have slowed the flow. “Keep still.”

  “Like I have a choice,” Webb muttered and laid his head back and closed his eyes. Hugo contemplated prodding him awake but his breathing was steady and Hugo decided rest was probably what he
needed.

  He sat and stared at the wall, cables humming overhead, checking his dark wrist panel every few minutes. Whenever Webb groaned or winced he had to stop himself from calling Jazz, but he stayed firm.

  “What exactly is your relationship with Jasmine?” Hugo muttered aloud without realising.

  “Huh?” Webb murmured, voice thick.

  “You. And Jazz. She obviously cares for you a lot.”

  “I’m not entirely sure that is any of your business,” Webb said.

  “Dana is starting to like you.”

  “Huh? Say again? The blood-loss must be affecting my hearing.”

  “She likes you,” Hugo said again. “Don’t give her hope if there isn’t any.”

  Webb mumbled a few beginnings of words but was cut off by the bleep of Hugo’s wrist panel.

  “Hold this,” he ordered Webb, placing his hand over the compress then pressed a button on the wrist panel. “Dana? Are you on your way back?”

  “I have her.” The voice was a woman’s. It was hard and edged with menace. “She is safe. For now.”

  “Who is this?” Hugo demanded. Webb was trying to sit up.

  “I’m sending co-ordinates. Come alone.” She had a trace of an American accent. “You have one hour.”

  The connection cut and some co-ordinates flashed up on the little screen.

  “Lunar 1,” Webb said. “That’s a Lunar 1 colonist talking.”

  “Stay put,” Hugo said, blood pounding in his ears as he got to his feet.

  “What, you’re going?”

  “Here,” Hugo pulled off his dust scarf and handed it over. “Keep the pressure on.”

  “Hugo, wait.”

  But Hugo had crossed to the hatch and was already throwing back the bolts. He slammed it on Webb’s protests, not able to think about the fact that he was abandoning him, wounded and alone, only of the murderous certainty in that tinny voice.

  He checked his panel for directions and set off, next to blind with anger and fear, but running as fast as he could. The passages were narrow and dark, some pitch black and he was forced to slow to a walk and feel his way along, having left the light with Webb, but his heart never slowed its fevered pounding. The distant roar of machinery sounded down other corridors and he passed over more than one echoing chasm without daring to look down.

  Odd smells assaulted him, sewage, bloodgrease and sometimes burning. Twice he had to duck back out of sight as workers came into view, pushing barrows or lifters or working on the subterranean machinery.

  He took several wrong turns, almost coming up on the co-ordinates several times only to find himself forced to turn away or climb to another level in the maze of passages. Finally, there was a dull light ahead and a steady thunk of something huge moving close by. He came to a doorway, wrist panel flashing as he finally reached the co-ordinates. He passed through and found himself in a large, round chamber with a walkway running around the wall. Choppy light flooded the room, flashing as a giant fan spun somewhere out of sight below. There was the rush of moving air and the smell of oil. He dared another step and saw Dana crouched on the walkway on the other side of the chamber. Her wrists were secured to a railing by wire and she was cursing and pulling at her bonds, blood already thick on her wrists with her efforts.

  He ignored all his instincts and training, called her name and rushed to her. She looked up, face white, mouth open and tear tracks through the dirt on her face.

  “Kale, no,” she called just as a bone-jarring clang sounded behind him.

  He span. A woman, taller than him, in black clothes and spacer boots had stepped out from a doorway and sunk a machete into the railing. The weapon was almost as long as his arm, heavy-looking with an edge that flashed in the shifting light. Her hair was a shocking red and pulled tight back from her face. She stood there, staring out at him with eyes like flint from the black cross painted on her face.

  Hugo felt cold fill him.

  “Who are you?” It was the voice again, low and loaded with anger.

  Hugo stood straighter, fingers itching for his own weapon but the woman’s gaze pinned him still.

  “You’re the Black Cross killer?”

  She pulled her weapon from the railing and stepped closer. “I know who I am. Tell me who you are.”

  Hugo took a step back, making sure he stood between the woman and Dana. “Who we are doesn’t matter. We’re nothing to do with you.”

  “You’ve dogged my every step.”

  “We weren’t after you,” Hugo said, keeping his voice under control and making himself meet her eyes. “Your grievance is of no interest to us.”

  “I don’t believe you. You’re sided with them.”

  “With who?”

  “The Ghosts.”

  Hugo shook his head. “We’re nothing to do with them. We’re after someone else.”

  “Who?”

  “Someone… someone they’ve hired.”

  She halted. The machete spun as she shifted it round and round in her grip. Her sharp eyes flicked from him to Dana and back again. “You’ve turned up at two of their apartments and you tell me you’re not one of them?”

  “We’re not. We’re using them.”

  “How so?”

  “Kale, don’t say anything,” Dana said.

  The woman moved. Hugo ducked to the side but she was fast and strong. The blade sunk into the wall just above his head and she pinned him, hand at his throat and face inches from his. The painted face was twisted, the eyes danced with madness. “All Ghosts will die by my hand. And so shall their friends.”

  “We’re not their friends, you mental bitch,” Dana snarled.

  The woman swung another sweep, weapon clanging off the railing inches from Dana’s hands. Hugo went for her, but she was too quick. She swung the weapon and he had to spring back to stay out of reach. He stood, every muscle tense as she stood with her feet apart and the machete in a two-handed grip, glaring at him. Strings of her blood-red hair were plastered to the black paint on her face.

  Slowly, she straightened and stepped round Dana. His sister tried to wriggle away but the woman grabbed a handful of her collar and pulled it tight.

  “Let her go,” Hugo said.

  “You want me to believe you’re not one of them?”

  “We’re not,” Hugo said.

  “Convince me.” She raised the blade.

  “We’re not even Havenites. We’re on the blacklist.”

  “Why?” she asked with narrowed eyes.

  “Kale,” Dana warned but was choked off as the woman shook her.

  Hugo took a breath. “We’re after a blade they use.”

  The woman lifted her head, peering at him with narrowed eyes. Dana sat still with eyes clenched shut. The weapon dangled by the woman’s leg. Hugo’s fingers went to his knife hilt but just rested there as the woman watched the movement.

  “What’s the name of this blade?”

  “I can’t say. We can’t let him know we’re coming.”

  “You’re lying,” she said, tightening her grip on Dana and lifting her machete. “Cowardly lies to protect yourselves.”

  “Ariel,” Hugo blurted, stepping forward. Dana’s eyes flew open. The woman paused. “His name is Ariel,” Hugo repeated, quieter.

  The fan below spun on. The sweat on Hugo’s brow was chilled in the breeze. He clenched and unclenched his hands, tacky with Webb’s blood, but all he could see was his sister staring at him.

  “I know that name,” the woman said a pained eternity later. Her grip on Dana eased ever so slightly.

  Hugo nodded, put his hands up and took a step closer. “He’s involved with these Ghosts. We’re trying to find him. For our own reasons.”

  “You’re Service, aren’t you?” The woman hadn’t moved but she suddenly looked dangerous again.

  Hugo shook his head. “Not any more.”

  The woman lifted her machete and pointed it at him. “I knew I recognised you. The Special Commander’s hero
son, isn’t it? Not looking so grand now, Commodore.”

  “Our friend is hurt,” Hugo said. “Please. Let us go so we can help him. We won’t interfere with your vendetta, whatever it is.”

  The woman nodded, though it wasn’t in agreement. A cruel smile had spread across her face. “‘Whatever it is’. Yes, that’s as little as you care. That’s as little as anyone cares.”

  “Listen, lady,” Dana growled. “No one cares. That’s the truth. No one cares about my friend lying broken in hospital on Earth because of them, or the one who’s bleeding out in this rusted hole. Let us go so we can get our revenge for someone no one cares about and you can do the same.”

  The woman was staring down at Dana who was glaring right back up at her. Hugo wasn’t sure but he thought he saw wetness in the tall woman’s tortured eyes. Hugo was about to reach for his knife when the woman sheathed her weapon and pulled a multi-tool out her belt. Her face was blank as she cut the wires holding Dana.

  Dana scrambled away as soon as she was free and Hugo rushed to her and helped her to her feet.

  “This blade. Ariel? I take it he’s worked on people you know?”

  Hugo looked up from his examination of Dana’s wrists, which weren’t cut too badly, to meet the newcomer’s difficult gaze again. “That’s right.”

  “Under instruction from the Ghosts?”

  Hugo nodded. “We believe so.”

  The woman looked at the ground, clenched her fists then looked up. “Take me to your injured friend.”

  “Why?” Dana said, eyes narrow.

  “I can help.”

  “I’m not impressed with your brand of kindness to strangers so far,” Dana said.

  “You can’t look me in the face and say you wouldn’t do the same if you thought someone stood in between you and your goal.”

  Dana scowled but didn’t answer.

  “How can you help?” Hugo said.

  The woman patted her utility belt. “I have medical supplies.”

  “You’re a medic?”

  She shrugged. “Not officially. My sister got very ill. I looked after her.”

  “And did she survive your care?” Dana said.