Tales from the Edge: Escalation: A Maelstrom's Edge Collection

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Tales from the Edge: Escalation: A Maelstrom's Edge Collection Page 16

by Stephen Gaskell


  'Thanks for your help,' she said before he left.

  He looked at her coldly, then smiled. 'You're welcome.'

  *

  When the elevator's doors slid open she found herself faced with a sight that she could barely drag her gaze from. Though the upper decks themselves were little different from the freight hold – perhaps with slightly less of the patchwork quilt repairs, and a little more sheen – this level at least had windows, and she was graced with her first view of the cybel tunnels through which the Hesperus was now speeding.

  A swirling, furious rush of cyans and blues flowed past the wide bulkhead aperture, massless and chaotic, leaving light in its wake. The terrible energy was nauseous to behold and frightening in its power, a ceaseless, intertwined ribbon of beauty that humbled and inspired. She could stop here, she thought, and watch this cosmic light show until it washed her to the last star in the spiral arm. Imagine how many more people would be able to see this, saved from their deaths, if she kept her promise to her father. Entrancing as the sight was, she pulled herself away.

  Avoiding the few people she saw, she soon found her way to the courier's cabin, a door set into a nondescript corridor on the starboard side. Even though there was nobody about, she sidled up shiftily against the gunmetal grey of the doorway and gently applied the data spike to the access pad.

  Her faith in Benek – or at least his greed – was vindicated when the door slid silently open. Only darkness resided here, save the soft orange glow of a wrist-link like hers illuminating an indistinct figure on the bed. She stole inside, blinking reflexively to adjust her eyes to the gloom, and crouched forwards towards the gently-breathing shape. Her heartbeat filled her whole chest, and she had the irrational notion that the noise of it would wake him up. She crept closer, her head light from the shallowness of her breaths, and stopped dead the moment she heard the beep.

  She froze, every muscle tense. To her it had sounded like a gunshot. It had come from her muffled wrist-link. Paralysed in the pure darkness for a moment, it became clear that the courier had not been roused. What was happening with the link? Did that mean it had started? How long did she have to wait? She'd dampened the light and noise of the device by tearing a strip off her shawl and wrapping it up – only thing being she now couldn't see the screen. She decided to risk a peek and gently pulled the bandaged material aside. But there was nothing. No new files, no progress bar. Did she have to press something? She eased her fingers under the material, pulling the two sides apart and wincing when the glow from the screen oozed into the room. Thankfully, growing up in the shanty slums of Arin had taught Aynushka to take note when something moved in the corner of her eye.

  Her head whipped around. The figure of a man, barely visible, shuffled once in alarm and then quickly raised something that glinted silver in the reflected light. She'd recognize that posture anywhere, and dived to one side to avoid the shot.

  Another movement to her right. Quicker than she would have ever thought possible, the courier was sitting up in the bed with his arm similarly outstretched, also holding a slim silver pistol but one that was far more powerful and refined. With a swift crescendo whine of energy a bolt of blinding plasma shot from the barrel, briefly illuminating the assailant in black before tearing a neat hole in the middle of his chest. There was a thump when he fell forward to his knees, than another, louder one as the body followed suit. Then there was silence.

  Then an alarm went off.

  The courier turned to her. Without his mask he looked utterly unremarkable, with tousled, mousey hair, hazel eyes and a fair amount of unkempt stubble. A little older than her, perhaps, but not by much.

  'I know who sent you,' he said plainly, and put down his gun.

  'Yes,' she snarled, 'and I'm here to retake what you stole from him.'

  The courier shrugged. 'Be my guest,' he said.

  His fingers nipped with remarkable nimbleness at the interface on his wrist-link and Aynushka's own bootstrapped and buggy version of the device burbled in response.

  'You're... giving it to me? Just like that?'

  'Just like that. It's what he would have wanted.'

  Conscious of the fact the alarm was still blaring, aware of the captain's savage reputation, and in no doubt that the courier could shoot her dead in a second if he so wished, she bolted for the door.

  Without waiting to hear what he yelled after her she pelted down the corridor and back towards the goods lift. Suddenly, from the corridor ahead, a figure strode out, hurriedly looking around. Benek. He spotted her and his eyes lit up.

  'Did you get it?' he barked.

  'Yes, but wait... There was another man. The courier shot him.'

  'He did what?' Benek hissed. 'The captain must've betrayed us. He'll want your head.'

  'But what about the courier?'

  'I'll deal with the courier.' He raised his wrist communicator to mouth level. 'Dunning? Dunning, you there?'

  'Yeah, I'm here,' a voice crackled back. 'What happened?'

  'Never mind that now! It looks like the courier has shot... someone. Get down there and arrest him. The hard way.'

  'Understood.'

  Ignoring any response from the communicator, Benek roughly grabbed Aynushka around the shoulders and guided her towards the lift. 'Come on, we've gotta get you hid.'

  *

  The elevator rumbled down to the foetid, dank depths of the cargo holds. The sound of alarms had diminished as they descended to be replaced by a barnyard smell and the murmur of activity. Freight never slept.

  Even those who dwelt in the underbelly of the Hesperus would have trouble finding sleep now. As Benek hurried her through the outer corridors, glances through the bulkhead doors into the makeshift market squares and barracks revealed small bands of what she could only assume to be the captain's men. They moved through huddled groups of refugees, asking brusque questions with their pistols drawn. The sight of them only spurred Benek's pace, and he dragged her ever quicker towards the aft of the ship.

  Reaching a sealed door, he quickly unlocked it with his wrist-link and shoved her inside the darkened space. A similar size to the bird room, the floor was littered with piles of foul-smelling debris while one wall was taken up by three bulky, slatted hatches – the refuse airlocks used to eject the ship's waste into the void.

  'We'll be safe here for a moment,' said Benek. 'But perhaps the captain can be still be reasoned with. Is all the information there?'

  'It's not like I've had time to check,' snapped Aynushka, squaring up to him. Benek jutted out his chin.

  'Well, seeing as it's the only thing that might save your life,' he said acerbically, 'now's the perfect time.'

  'Fine,' she countered, and looked down to the cracked screen of her link. A small interface had appeared in the right hand corner, indicating the completed file transfer. 'It's there. See?' She pointed petulantly at the icon. Benek smiled thinly in response.

  'Worth a planet's ransom, I'll bet.'

  'So long as I've got my father's work I couldn't care less about the price. And while we're on it, I don't think much of your hiding place. I'll be found in a second in here.'

  'Really?' said Benek, affecting concern.'Let's test that theory.'

  He lashed out, catching her sternum with the flat of his palms and shoving her backwards. He'd whipped the pistol from his holster before she'd even hit the ground and, covering her with a supercilious sneer, he reached into his uniform's tunic and produced a broken wrist-link. He tossed it at her feet.

  'Put it on,' he said, 'and throw yours towards me.'

  'Never. Not after everything my father worked for.'

  'Look,' he hissed, jabbing the weapon at her. 'You either put it on now or I take my chances shooting you and put it on your pretty little corpse.'

  'I'd rather delete it myself, you bastard!'

  She whipped her wrist up quickly, in truth unsure of how she'd even do that but unwilling to hand so much over to a rat like Benek. When the shot rang o
ut her whole body tensed, but the scream that filled the air wasn't hers.

  Benek fell forward to his knees, gibbering senselessly from the pain. His hand was blackened, the skin cracked like cooling magma, too charred even to bleed. The ruined pistol lay several feet away where it sparked and fizzed, and in the doorway stood the courier. He was back in his armour only without the helmet, and as he re-holstered his own pistol he said to her earnestly, 'Whatever you do, don't delete that file.' She swallowed noisily and got up, starting to back away from him. He raised his communicator to his mouth. 'Captain?' he said. 'I've got them.'

  *

  The bridge of the Hesperus VII was no more impressive than any other part of the ship she'd seen so far, but she could see why the captain commanded such a fearsome reputation. Sitting in the cradle of a chair on the c-shaped dais before the navigation controls at the centre of the bridge, he was a man made large with muscle. Neat black dreadlocks draped down his back towards his waist and a slick pink scar ran from his right temple down to his cheek, giving him a cruel and merciless look. His wide face was impassive, the only emotion coming from the deep, controlled breaths that he huffed through his nostrils.

  They had wrapped Benek's hand in grimy bandages and dosed him with painkillers to stop him passing out. He whined like a dog and was cradling the injury, but discomfort wasn't the reason he refused to look the captain in the eye. Aynushka stood to one side, slightly behind him and covered by a vicious-looking rifle in the hands of one of the captain's men. The courier, silent and still, stood at the captain's right hand.

  'She must've lied to get on sir,' stammered Benek. 'Said she was an engineer, that she could help repair the engines...'

  'That's not true!' yelled Aynushka.

  'Let him finish,' said the captain calmly.

  'I knew there was something off about her sir, so I had Kruger follow her. I had no idea she was planning to steal sir, I swear! When she broke into the courier's billet she must've got a weapon somehow, shot Kruger and tried to escape, and that's when I caught her in the refuse bays.'

  'Don't listen to him!' said Aynushka, breaking free from her guard and dashing forward. She hadn't got two paces before all the guns in the room were trained on her, but she refused to be intimated. With a wave of his hand, the captain signalled for his men to stand down.

  'And what's your story, then?' asked the captain.

  She pointed viciously at the courier. 'That man stole priceless information from my father. Information that could change the face of the Edge, give hope to millions of people. I was sent to track it down and get it back. This reptile helped me. He let me on board and got me to where I needed to be, all so he could take the information for himself. He said you were in on it!'

  'Did he now?'

  'All lies, Captain, I swear!'

  'And if that's the case, Mister Benek, why did our friend here deem it necessary to shoot you in the hand?'

  'Well... I reckon he was looking to get his data back, sir. To stop me before I destroyed her wrist-link. You know me, sir. I've served you dutifully these past few months, keeping all the riffraff and lowlifes off this ship... Do you really want to believe this trash over me?'

  'Right now, Mister Benek, I'm not sure who to believe. Perhaps I should talk to someone I can trust?' With a slight tilt of his head that almost hinted at deference, the captain looked at the courier. 'Well?' he said, the king to his most trusted adviser. 'Who's the liar?'

  The courier barely glanced at Benek, but when his eyes fell on Aynushka the distaste in his expression softened into sorrow.

  'They both are. It's just the girl doesn't know she is. And Benek's lies go back a whole lot further.'

  'Don't listen to him sir, she killed Kruger!'

  'I killed Kruger,' corrected the courier, stepping down off the dais. 'To stop him killing me and to protect this girl. And then, Benek, I killed your other friend. The one you sent to finish the job and shut me up. What was his name again? Dunning, wasn't it? We're the Comm Guild, Benek. We're pretty good with intercepting transmissions.'

  Benek looked up, aghast, and the courier turned back to the captain.

  'With the greatest respect, Captain, this man has been playing you for a fool. I'm guessing he joined your crew somewhere around Hapsis?'

  Normally so implacable, the Captain's face briefly registered surprise. 'However did you know that?' he said with a half-smile.

  'I trade a lot of information for the Comm Guild, Captain, and I know where you've been and where you're headed. One of the packages I'm carrying is the final transmission from the Hapsis penal gulags. Most of the guards deserted, and when the prisoners saw their chance they revolted. I'm guessing Benek and his two cronies managed to get off-planet after they slaughtered what was left of the wardens.'

  'A slaughter,' said the Captain, looking coldly at Benek, 'I was assured this man had escaped.'

  'And so you put him in charge of security. After all, you thought he was a prison guard. But once a crook, always a crook, eh Benek? When the girl showed up with her promise of untold wealth, how could he resist?'

  'And can you prove this?'

  'I've got nothing to lose by lying. Too many people in the spiral arm rely on the Comm Guild for correct information, after all.'

  'And I'm pretty sure,' said Aynushka boldly, 'that if he intercepted Benek's message he also recorded it.' The courier nodded. 'What was it again? "Arrest him. The hard way."'

  The captain breathed out slowly, and nodded in deference to the courier. 'Thank you for helping root out this little... infestation. My crew and people thank you.' He turned to Aynushka and eyed her with another half-smile. 'And what of you, girl?' he said.

  'I've got what I wanted. You can have it too. Blueprints and programmes to improve your engines. I'm going to spread the information wherever I go, help billions of people escape from the Maelstrom's path...'

  'No,' said the courier sadly. 'You're not.'

  'If you've stolen from the Comm Guild,' rumbled the captain gravely, 'there'll be repercussions. I will not put my ship and the people under my protection in danger...'

  'With respect, Captain,' interrupted the courier, 'she hasn't stolen anything. Merely retrieved what she was supposed to. I am a courier after all, and I've made my delivery. My business with her is finished.'

  The captain eased himself back in his seat and stared hard at Aynushka for a moment. 'With information that could save billions you'd be welcome to join my crew,' he said. 'If you share it with me first.'

  'No,' said the courier, quietly but firmly. 'I didn't pick this ship at random, Captain Wray. I picked it because I knew you were a good man. I revealed the traitors in your midst. In the spirit of fairness, I ask that you at least give her time to assess that information on her own. Please.'

  'Very well,' nodded Captain Wray, and he gestured at one of his men. 'Krebb, show her to the courier's cabin. I'm sure he can spare it for a while. And once you've done that,' his voice hardened. 'Deal with Mister Benek. The hard way.'

  *

  The man called Krebb had shown her back to the courier's billet, and once he'd left and the door had shuddered to a close behind him, she sat staring at the wrist-link on her arm for some time. The icon of the file transfer blinked – but with what? Hope? Lies? Resolution? Out of anger more than choice she stabbed at the screen with her finger, and a crackling audio file began to play. The voice of her father.

  'Nushka,' it said, hollow and slow, 'if you are hearing this you are countless millions of miles away, and the courier known as Hess Tremane has kept his promise to me. A promise I did not deserve. He believed in my work too, and it was our plan that he should be the one spreading my programmes to the stars. And yet the only thing he took from Arin is this message, with you following in his wake. And it is time that I asked for your forgiveness.

  'My darling daughter. You must know by now. There are no blueprints. There is no way to make ships more efficient, no way to save the countless lives
as I promised. There was a time, yes, when I thought my research would work. But my superiors at the research foundation realised all of it was founded on an error so basic only my pride could have blinded me to it. And that's what made me lose everything, Nushka – my pride and my vanity. And I could not let that damn you to death on Arin too. And so as a last favour to me, Hess agreed to this little charade to get you on a safe ship far, far away, because I knew you'd never leave me otherwise.

  'If you do not want to forgive me, my darling, know that the pain I am going through now is all the restitution you'll need. I'll live a sadder life without you, but not so sad as if I had watched you die alongside me. Goodbye, Aynushka. Wherever you travel, my love and my hopes go with you. Do what I could never do – work to make the lives of others better. Just do that f–'

  The recording cut out, but she barely noticed. She was still racked with streams of hot, furious tears when the door gracelessly slid open and the courier, still decked in his armour, quietly stepped inside. She wiped her eyes on the back of her sleeves and attempted some semblance of self-control.

  'So,' she said, brushing off the emotion like an old coat. 'Hess Tremane, eh? You must think I'm a right idiot.'

  'You did what you thought was right,' he replied. 'And frankly, I'd hoped to lead you two or three systems away before you caught up with me. No shame in catching me on the first ship out.'

 

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