by Tammy Salyer
Resentment billows through the room like caustic smoke. Nobody likes being stuck aboard a small interstellar craft for days at a time, especially when it’s planet-side. But Rajcik is playing every centimeter of this gig with complete caution. As of now, the only wildcard, the only thing he hasn’t precisely calculated, is the involvement of Vitruzzi and her crew. The image of the last time I saw Strahan looms to the surface of my thoughts. Why had he been following me? Can he and the rest of them even imagine what kind of danger they’re in?
“Let’s talk.” He motions for me to follow and together we walk out of operations toward the flight deck. I can almost feel the hateful gazes of MacCready and Yadav, maybe all of them, on my back.
* * *
“Here’s what you’ll do.” Outside of the flight deck window screens, I see nothing but rust-colored rock walls rising from the canyon floor. It must not have been easy to land the Temptation between these tightly abutting cliffs. The cover, however, is excellent. It isn’t the kind of place anyone would happen upon unless they were looking for something, and I know I won’t get far if I try to escape. Damn you, Rajcik. His mind for strategy is probably the most nimble and ruthless I’ve ever seen. The Corps would benefit from having him as their Command General, but the rest of the system would be in serious trouble if that ever happened. As dangerous as he is, it’s best for everyone that he’ll never have that kind of power.
He hands me a disc and continues, “You’re going to take this to Vitruzzi and tell her we’ll be in touch with further instructions.”
“Are these the complete plans?”
He raises a mocking eyebrow at me, daring me to admit that I’d made up any part of the story about Vitruzzi’s crew. If I lied to him about their interest in being involved, this would be my last opportunity to come clean. Not that it would matter. If I admitted to even the smallest attempt to mislead him, he’ll kill me now. Best to say as little as possible. Finally, he answers, “That disc contains everything she needs to know. Except the location.”
“Which you have?” I knew there was something he wasn’t telling me.
Without answering, he gives me a cold look, and says, “Tell Vitruzzi I want to meet. I’ll let her know where and when. Make sure they have the seeds.”
“We don’t have a lot of time, János.”
“I’m aware that there is a sense of urgency on their behalf. However, they’ve waited this long, and as you said, David is probably dead. Is your impatience coming from the fact that you can’t wait to get paid, or is there something else I should know?”
“If you string them along, they may take matters into their own hands.”
“Your job is to stay with them and ensure that doesn’t happen.”
It takes some effort to swallow the golf-ball-sized lump of exasperation lodged in my throat before answering. “Understood.”
“Thompson will take you back to Hell’s Gate. I’m sure you’ll find your way from there.” He flicks on the intercom and orders Thompson to meet me at the Temptation’s transport shuttle.
He turns to leave, but my next question stops him. “When did you have time to go back to Obal 3 and pick up the shuttle?”
His head swivels toward me slowly, the way a cobra rises from a basket. He’s caught and he knows it.
The answer is that he didn’t, couldn’t, have had the time or the opportunity to retrieve the shuttle. If he’d gone back, the Corps would have blasted the Temptation out of the sky. Which means he never sent the shuttle to the rendezvous in the first place, explaining why I couldn’t find it despite following the directions he’d given me. Had he led the Corps to that hangar, trying to set me up? But why, goddammit? It doesn’t make any sense.
He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to. If I want to leave this room alive, I’m going to have to pretend that I don’t know the truth, and he’s going to have to pretend to believe me.
“I guess it doesn’t really matter, huh?” It’s the closest I can come to playing along. “We’ll be waiting for your message.”
Before I exit through the cabin doors, he grips my shoulder, spinning me to face him. Strong, implacable fingers dig like stakes into my back. Every muscle in my body goes taut, prepared to fight for my life, prepared for anything. “One more thing, Aly. If they try to run, or you do, I’ll find you. And end you. Then I’ll wipe their little settlement off the face of the planet. If they don’t agree to my terms, you make sure they completely understand what they have to lose.”
This time I don’t stop myself from shoving his hand off me. Deftly, he grabs my wrist and jerks my fist toward him, pulling me with it. I try one time to pull my arm out of his grasp, but it’s like fighting the vacuum of space. His grip is relentless, demanding I submit.
Bitterly, I respond, “Whatever you say.”
He releases my arm and I watch the white marks where his fingers had been slowly begin to fill with red, angry blood. Shoving the disc inside the protection of my armor, I turn my back to him and leave.
* * *
The doors slide closed behind me and Thompson, a tall, gangly bullwhip of a man, is waiting in the corridor.
“You ready?” I ask.
He grunts and starts walking in the direction of the shuttle. After a couple of seconds, he says, “I’m glad Rajcik is grounding you. You don’t have what it takes to be on this ship. Slags need to stay where they belong—out of our way. Ships are a man’s world.”
I couldn’t like this cockroach any less, and in my current state of mind, there’s no controlling my mouth. “Excuse me if I didn’t notice where you pissed on the walls to mark your territory. I guess I should be happy that you can even remember to put your dick back in your pants.”
He stops walking and turns around, his lips curled into an ugly snarl. Stepping close, trying to menace me, he fumes into my face, “I’ll show you where my dick goes, bitch,” and grabs at my crotch.
The dumb bastard isn’t prepared for my forehead slamming into his nose. He grunts in pain and surprise, the exhalation rising into an out-of-breath screech as my knee connects full force with his groin. He doubles up, holding onto his damaged goods, blood dripping from his nose, making a pattering noise on the steel walkway that’s punctuated by desperate attempts to draw air back into his locked lungs. I stand over him in disgust for a moment and warn, “Remember what that feels like next time you think about fucking with me, Thompson.”
Still bent over, he turns his red, clenched face toward me and mouths “bitch” between gasps as I walk past him to the shuttle. I don’t know what’s going to happen next, but I realize I’ll never be aboard the Temptation again. I’m done with Rajcik, and this crew, forever.
THIRTEEN
On the short trip back to Hell’s Gate, Thompson forces me to sit in the shuttle’s windowless fuselage to keep me from pinpointing the Temptation’s location. He barely plants the landing gear before opening the exterior hatch and telling me to get out.
Fortunately, all the money Vitruzzi gave me is still in the cargo pocket of my pants. It’s late in the afternoon and more people shuffle around the area than I’d seen earlier this morning. Odds are good I’ll be able to buy a land transport or a few minutes on a satcom link to contact Agate Beach and warn them. Rajcik knows where the settlement is, so there is no need for him to tail me. He’s holding all the cards right now. I intend to change that.
Just outside the entrance to Van Dieman’s Land, I notice that same solar stoner who had begged money off me earlier lying flat out on the dirt street. No one looks in his direction or even diverts their steps to avoid him. They just raise their feet slightly higher to clear him and keep moving. I can’t tell if he’s breathing. Either passed out or dead. There’s a part of me that recognizes the tragedy, and the irony, in the fact that both states equal the same thing for this guy. Once you’ve gone too far down the road he’s on, there’s only one place it will end. For a second I consider helping him, at least get him out of the way of
potential traffic. Except it wouldn’t really be as if I’m doing him a favor. The sooner it ends for him, the better.
Bullshit. No one deserves to die like that. A man walking past gives me a dirty look as I cut in front of him, veering out into the street and grabbing the stoner’s outstretched hand. Still warm. Pulling him into the shade of the nearest building—he’s lighter than he looks, unhealthily light—I let go, and he slumps to the side with a deep grunt. A string of yellow drool hangs from his mouth and his eyes flutter. His sunken chest and sharp ribs burn with fever beneath my hand as I shove a few more bills into his shirt. There’s nothing else I can do for him.
The bar’s dark interior is refreshingly cool despite the smoke-thick air. Like all of the Spectras, being planet-side means either being rendered into an incoherent block of ice by the frost that sinks its deadly claws into your skin, lungs, and brain, or burning up from the relentless heat that fries your motivation along with your sanity. Spectra 6 is more mild than the others I’ve been to, but it could still be mistaken for hell. Bounty hunters on my trail are still a possibility and I keep a lookout for them or Admin personnel. But my current goal of finding a way to warn Vitruzzi makes me less careful about keeping a low profile. There are more patrons at the bar than before and catching the eye of the barkeep, I nod, beckoning her over. Her footsteps are labored as she approaches, as if she’s sick or old, though she looks younger than me. Whatever this town is, it doesn’t appear to be a healthy place to live. Her eyes are filmy and disinterested as she waits for my order.
“Is there anywhere around here with a satcom link?”
Her placid stare doesn’t change, and she simply stands there as if I haven’t said a word. So I drop some cash on the bar.
The bill disappears and she says, “There’s an empty table over there. I’ll find someone who can sort you out.”
Uh-uh. My guess is I’ll sit there all day and no one will ever show. In one quick motion, I lean over the bar and grab the arm she used to pick up the money. “I’m not fucking around here. If no one shows up within twenty minutes, that A-bill is going to be the hardest you’ve ever made.”
My patience has already been stretched to its breaking point today and the message gets across. Her eyes widen and she dips her chin in acknowledgment.
Less than five minutes pass before Strahan pushes open the door, scans the interior, and walks up and sits in the chair opposite me. Somehow, I’m not surprised.
He looks me over, eyes resting on my freshly bruised jaw for a few seconds, and then asks, “How happy am I to see you, Erikson?”
“The truth? Not very.” He waits for me to continue. “We can’t talk here. This place isn’t safe and we don’t have the time. I need to talk to Vitruzzi right away.” I’m a decent liar when I need to be, but I hope he recognizes the sincerity in my face.
He stands up. “Then let’s roll.”
* * *
Strahan drives the four-wheeled Rover through the canyon at a speed I wouldn’t have imagined any land craft could manage. His usual taciturn attitude gives me plenty of time to think about how to explain the situation and come up with my next move. The population of Agate Beach is as good as dead if I don’t talk them into playing Rajcik’s game. The hard-to-swallow fact is, Rajcik only gave up the plans to the Fortress. We still don’t know where it is and have nothing left to exchange for the location. The solar seeds are worth a small fortune, but they were also Vitruzzi’s only bargaining chip, and Rajcik, technically, has already struck that bargain—the holodisc for the seeds. Vitruzzi didn’t realize he would take the opportunity to up the ante at her and Brady’s suggestion to team up on infiltrating the Fortress. Now Rajcik will try and force Vitruzzi into carrying out a suicide mission or make her watch Agate Beach be destroyed.
He’s already proved that David and I were expendable from the beginning, and now he’s willing to sacrifice a town full of people he’s never even met to get the Nova. He’s obviously well beyond compromise, or even reason, and it’s clear to me that even if I stayed on Rajcik’s crew and played everything exactly as he wants, I’d still never see a cent of the payoff.
I should be bitter. I should be livid, enraged, filled with hate. But the only feeling I’m still capable of is an overwhelming, crushing urgency to do whatever it takes to get to the Fortress and find my brother. If saving David means throwing in with Vitruzzi and her crew, then that’s what I’ll do. I know he’d do the same if our circumstances were reversed. If he dies, or if he’s already dead, I’m not sure I can face the savage guilt, knowing that I’m the one who left him there.
In the end, that’s all this is really about. My brother is the only person in this world that I can point to as evidence that I’m not just another robot, mindless and empty, trained and controlled by the Corps and its Admin puppet master. David is proof that I’m more than that. He’s my brother. I’m not alone in the universe, not just another stray that no one cares about. Having a family means coming from somewhere, and knowing where to go when you need help. In a time when space flight is the norm and living planet-side with even half the luxuries of old Earth is something few can appreciate, being part of a family grounds a person. It validates the human in me and keeps me from becoming what the Admin wanted me to be—a nonentity, a tool, a unit. I don’t want to be nothing.
Rajcik is prepared to let David die and make me exactly that. With calm, almost detached bitterness, I finally realize the real surprise is that Rajcik hadn’t sold us out sooner.
That’s all it takes for my loyalty to change sides.
We reach Agate Beach in less than three hours. Brady and Vitruzzi are waiting for us at the dwelling they share. As I take a seat, all eyes are on me, impatient for me to describe what went down with Rajcik. There’s very little hope in their expressions, merely cautious examination. They’re used to bad news.
Clearing my throat, I begin: “Here’s the deal. Rajcik sent me back here to tell you that he would give up the disc in exchange for the seeds we took from R’Kadia.” Reaching into my vest, I pull out the holodisc. “Here it is.”
Their faces all register the same shocked surprise, but aggressive suspicion is also there. Brady’s hazel eyes stab through the air between us, prickling the skin of my face. His dislike for me is palpable.
I toss the disc on the table and continue, “But the problem is that we, that you, don’t have the Fortress’s location. And he does.”
Vitruzzi’s voice is grim. “What does he want for it?”
“Simple. He wants to work together.” I let them all see the exaggerated benevolence on my face that I’m supposed to be conveying as Rajcik’s appointed representative, and all of its exaggerated falseness.
I’m not enjoying telling them this. I’m not trying to build up a dramatic sense of fragile hope in order to shatter it. I want them to understand just how dangerous Janós Rajcik is. I want them to comprehend that they’re in over their heads and maybe they should start picking out their headstones. “Of course you already know what I’m saying is too good to be true. He wants to use you and your ship as a diversion, a set up, so the Admin targets you when we get within range of the Fortress. You get taken prisoner, or just blown to bits, and he slips in and steals the Nova.”
No one says anything. I catch Strahan’s expression in the corner of my eye. Unlike Brady’s face, there’s no dislike and distrust. It almost seems to be sympathy.
The outside door opens and Venus, Desto, and Bodie walk in. Nothing is said, but their movements become deliberate and awareness lights up their eyes, perceiving the tension in the air. Desto and Bodie look at me curiously and sit down at the table on either side of me. The corners of Venus’s mouth turn downward in unhappy disappointment and she begins fidgeting around in the cupboards behind where Brady stands.
“What did we miss?” Desto asks.
“Erikson here was just telling us how her partners want to use us as decoys so they can get rich,” Brady says.
&nb
sp; Vitruzzi glances at Brady, the look in her eyes gentle but firm, and says, “Erikson, you’ve obviously got more to say, so get on with it.”
I have to force my voice to stay even, to not give away the stress cracking through my bones like an earthquake. “Rajcik can go to hell. I’m not working for him anymore. The only way I see that we’ll be able to get to the Fortress is to play along with him until he gives up the location. Then maybe we can turn his plan around and make him and his crew the diversion we need to get in and out undetected.”
“We,” Vitruzzi says flatly, but her eyebrows arch with curiosity.
“My goal and your goals are the same, at least for now. I don’t give a fuck about getting rich anymore.” I look directly at Brady when I say this, wanting to drive home how wrong he is, at least about me.
“Why the change of heart?” Strahan asks.
“What I want to know is why any of us are pretending to believe her,” Brady cuts in, not so easily convinced. “Isn’t it clear she’s trying to bait us? She’s a criminal, and she’s working for a criminal. All of us know exactly what she’s capable of.” He glares darkly at me and leans forward on the table. “We know about the New Sweden Massacre.” Sweeping the rest of the group with his swamp-grass stare, he continues, “Just because she’s brought collateral doesn’t mean those are really the plans for the Fortress, or that they haven’t been rigged in some way. If she doesn’t have some proof, I’m pulling the plug.”
I’ve gone pale, my skin tingling coldly from the lack of blood. The New Sweden Massacre had been Rajcik’s doing, that’s true. But I hadn’t been part of it.
The job happened almost a month ago, an easy-money gig appropriating a rebel cache of weapons from a non-cit settlement on Spectra 4. It should have been quick and low-risk—rush in, suppress resistance by threat and superior firepower, and be a memory within the hour. The rebels were a disorganized group, trying to plan some kind of attack on the Corps surveillance ships that sweep through the Spectras regularly. I have no idea what they hoped to get from such an attack, besides dead, and we anticipated that they would have no capacity to fight off a group with our experience. Like I said: easy.