A Fistful of Credits: Stories from the Four Horsemen Universe (The Revelations Cycle Book 5)

by Chris Kennedy

  “Impossible,” the captain said. “We’re due to arrive in orbit in ninety minutes.”

  “Jeanne D’Arcy has subverted at least part of the network,” Allen said. “At the very least, we need to put the ship into lockdown.”

  There was a long pause. Allen could imagine, easily, what the captain was thinking. A lockdown would be inconvenient for the passengers, particularly the ones who’d been looking forward to watching from the observation lounge as the liner entered orbit. But if he didn’t put the ship into lockdown, and their quarry escaped, it would look very bad. Leaving the main computer network up and running was bad enough.

  “Very well,” the captain said, finally. “Put the ship into lockdown. But the systems remain in normal function.”

  “Yes, sir,” Allen said.

  * * *

  Jeanne cursed under her breath as she heard the lockdown announcement. It was a smart move, even though it would annoy the passengers. Anyone who was outside their cabin in ten minutes, but wasn’t in uniform could be stunned first and interrogated later. It would take some time for the first-class passengers to be shoed back to their staterooms—second-class and below wouldn’t be given any consideration at all—but after that, the crew would have plenty of time to search the ship.

  She kept her expression blank as she prowled down the corridor, approaching one of the crew’s sleeping compartments. Capricorn had one thing in common with a Human military ship, if nothing else; crew sleeping compartments were slotted in everywhere, as if they’d been afterthoughts when the designers were finalising the plans. The hatch was sealed, but a touch of her pinplants opened it. Inside, three crewwomen were dressing hastily.

  “Who are...?”

  Jeanne threw herself at the first crewwoman, slamming a fist into her throat. The woman gagged and fell to the deck, but Jeanne was already lunging at the second. She felt a flicker of sympathy as she shoved her victim into the bunk, cracking her head against the solid metal, then turned to the third. The third crewwoman was clearly a more experienced fighter—weaklings didn’t last long on starship crews—but she was no match for Jeanne’s training. Jeanne caught her by the throat and hoisted her up in the half gravity, shoving her against the bulkhead.

  “Answer my questions,” she snarled. “Are there any weapons on this deck?”

  The woman shook her head, frantically. Jeanne believed her. Capricorn wasn’t a military ship. The crew wouldn’t go around armed, even if there was a prospect of being boarded. No, any real weapons would be locked in the ship’s armory, next to the bridge. She banged the woman’s head against the bulkhead, knocking her out, then scooped up a spare uniform, slate and ID badge. Posing as a junior officer was too risky—there were too few such officers on the ship for one of them to be unknown—but there were dozens of crewwomen. As soon as she was dressed, she hurried out of the cabin, checking the main computer as she moved. The shuttlebay was the logical destination...

  But they’ll know that too, she thought. And that gives me a chance to go elsewhere.

  * * *

  “I demand to speak to your superior,” a woman snapped. “I paid good money and...”

  Allen tuned her out. The woman had to be wealthy, if only because she was both ugly and strikingly fat. Only a person who didn’t have to care about outside opinions wouldn’t have taken advantage of cosmetic surgery. And the dress she wore was both gaudy and incredibly expensive. It looked like a slug had vomited on a Picasso. Allen found it hard to believe that anyone would want to wear it.

  He raised his voice. “Return to your cabins,” he called. “Anyone not in their cabins within the next five minutes will be arrested.”

  The woman gave him a nasty look, then stomped off. Ivan elbowed him. “You let her talk to you like that?”

  “She’s got enough clout to get us both fired,” Allen said. He was starting to suspect that his career was at an end. There were 127 first-class passengers on Capricorn, all of whom had considerable influence. People had been clamouring to visit Talus for years. The rich and influential wouldn’t miss this first mass chance. It would only take one of them complaining to get him in deep shit. “We have to be careful.”

  He sighed, inwardly, as he watched the casino emptying, patrons complaining about losing sure things as the dealers closed up shop. Allen rather doubted that all the gamblers had been on the verge of winning big, but there was no way to prove that wasn’t true. The lawyers were going to have fun, afterwards.

  “You Earthers are so undisciplined,” Ivan said. “On Talus, people do as they are told.”

  “And your government invited these people here,” Allen said, curtly. He glanced at his watch. 70 minutes to orbit. “Are you sure you want them to stay?”

  Ivan scowled, and Allen smirked. He had guessed the secret police wouldn’t be happy with the decision to open up to outsiders.

  Allen tried to ignore him, thinking hard. Jeanne D’Arcy had committed at least one crime now, assaulting Richard Ambrose. It was clear she had no intention of surrendering and trusting the captain to keep her safe when Talus started upping the pressure. And that meant she had to get off the ship before the full-scale search began. Where would he go, if he wanted to escape?

  We don’t even know she left the passenger decks, he thought. She might have...

  He scowled. Whoever—whatever—Jeanne D’Arcy actually was, it was clear she was no amateur. She’d want to go for the shuttles, but she’d also anticipate that he’d deduce her most logical course of action. And that meant...

  “Put additional guards on the shuttles,” he ordered. He already had security officers stationed at the exits to the passenger decks, making sure that no one could enter or leave without the right authorisation, but it was possible that their target had already left. “And then start to muster all non-essential crewmen.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  Ivan turned to glare at him. “My government will not be pleased if you do not find our target,” he said. “She must not get down to the planet.”

  “So you said,” Allen said. “Who is she, anyway?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Ivan said. “Find her!”

  * * *

  Jeanne forced herself to walk calmly and professionally as she strode towards the shuttlebay entrance. She’d never been anywhere near it before, but—unless she was very much mistaken—there would be at least one guard, probably two. If she was hunting someone, she would have made damn sure to block all the possible exits.

  She smiled, inwardly, as the giant hatch came into view. Two men were standing there, both appearing as though they were trying to look watchful. Their superiors couldn’t be very far away, then. Jeanne smiled at them as she approached, trying to look like just another crewwoman who’d been ordered to report to the shuttlebay. She hoped—prayed—that the officers didn’t know the names and faces of everyone who might have a legitimate reason to walk past them.

  “Halt,” the officer ordered. “Keep your hands where I can see them.”

  “The shuttlebay has been sealed,” his partner added. “Who are you?”

  Jeanne held up her stolen ID card, bracing herself. The photograph might pass muster—the poor crewwoman shared the same sex, race, and hair color—but she’d be sunk the moment they tried to check her against the database. She’d tested the system, only to discover that someone had been setting up flags of their own. They might not have shut down the whole system—it was what she would have done—but they had taken care to limit how much damage she could do. There could be traps in the computer just waiting for her to meddle in the wrong places.

  “I have orders to report to the shuttlebay,” she said, trying to sound nervous. Men were always more relaxed when they felt they had the upper hand. “My supervisor...”

  The leader’s hand dropped to his sidearm. Fast, but not fast enough. Jeanne lurched the last two steps and struck him in the throat, then slammed a punch into the side of his head, sending him falling to the deck.
She twisted around and thrust at his partner, only to have him jump backwards. Jeanne cursed and threw herself forward. The lighter gravity made these kinds of fights iffy, at best. If he sounded the alert or even zapped her with his stunner, she was dead. She’d just added a possible murder to her list of crimes.

  There was no time to think about it. Her jump had been timed to meet him when he landed. The security officer abandoned all hope of drawing his stunner and lunged at her. She crashed into him hard enough to send them tumbling over; she yanked up her knee, catching him in the groin an instant before she hit the deck. The officer convulsed, gasping in pain; she shoved off him, then smacked him in the head. He slumped, out for the count. Considering how hard she’d nailed him in the balls, it was probably something of a relief.

  Damn it, Jeanne thought. The first guard was alive, thankfully. She scooped up both guns. She popped the magazine and confirmed, taser rounds. She took both their magazine pouches, which easily fit on her belt. Then, holding one gun and attaching the other to her belt, she looked around to be sure no one had seen. They’ll know where I am now...

  She opened the hatch and peered into the shuttlebay. Three shuttles were clearly visible; all were of alien design and looked new. She knew they’d be fueled and ready this close to the planet. A shuttle could take her to the surface, but...

  “Hey,” someone shouted.

  Jeanne turned. Three security officers were running towards her, weapons drawn. Jeanne switched the gun in her hand to burst, then opened fire. Two of them took hits, face-planting in the low gravity—the third, better trained or simply luckier, managed to get out of the way in time. She heard him calling for assistance and swore under her breath as she swapped mags. Even if she got him, his reinforcements would catch her sooner rather than later. And that meant...

  She fired a handful of shots down the corridor, more to force him to keep his head down than anything else, then drew the other gun. Firing both weapons, alternating first one, then the other, she keyed the shuttlebay hatch to close—if she was lucky, they’d assume she was in the shuttlebay—and then hurried down the corridor. Hopefully, they’d be slow about coming after her.

  And if they are faster than I thought, she told herself, surrender is no longer an option.

  * * *

  “She’s in the shuttlebay,” a voice snapped. “Two men down, she’s armed!”

  Rich or poor, no one boarded Capricorn without having their luggage put through a series of security sweeps. She had to have taken a gun from a crewman, which meant taser rounds only. No one could have spoofed the scanners without more tech than Jeanne D’Arcy had...

  Unless she really is a government agent, his thoughts pointed out.

  It didn’t seem likely. Capricorn had carried diplomatic pouches before. Allen had always been told about them, even though he’d never been told what was actually in them. They might have been scanned and opened otherwise. No, there was no way that Jeanne D’Arcy had smuggled something through the security gates. And that meant she was unarmed, save for whatever she could improvise...

  “Wait for reinforcements, then move in,” he ordered. The shuttles had all been powered down and locked. Assuming Jeanne D’Arcy could crack their locks, it would still take her at least ten minutes to power up the shuttles and open the shuttlebay doors. “I’m on my way.”

  He jogged down the corridor, Ivan at his side. It didn’t feel right. Jeanne D’Arcy hadn’t made any real mistakes so far, save for whatever had tipped Talus off in the first place. She knew she was being chased, so why walk into a trap? The shuttlebay only had two entrances and both were sealed. Unless, of course, she wasn’t in the shuttlebay...

  His pinplants bleeped. “Sir, this is Montagu,” a voice said. “Crewwoman Dixie just sent in an emergency call. Three of her bunkmates were attacked and knocked out.”

  Allen sucked in his breath. If Jeanne D’Arcy had attacked a trio of crewwomen, that meant... she was probably dressed as a crewwoman. It was a smart move. Capricorn had over 500 crewmen and at least a third of them were female. Someone who saw a lone crewwoman probably wouldn’t think anything of it, while a passenger outside the passenger zone would probably draw attention. And that meant...

  “Order all crew not on essential duties to return to their cabins,” he said. Their target might be able to pose as a man. Reducing the number of potential suspects was only logical. “And get the three of them to the medics.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  They reached the shuttlebay just as the security officers opened the door and flooded inside, weapons at the ready. All three shuttles were there. The compartment looked to be empty of anyone; perhaps it was empty. And that meant...what?

  “Search the compartment, carefully,” Allen ordered. He was fairly sure it would be pointless, but he had to try. “And then deploy search teams to...”

  Ivan caught his arm. “This is useless,” he said. “I demand to bring my own personnel onto the ship.”

  “Ask the captain,” Allen said. “Until then...”

  He closed his eyes, recalling the deck plan. Logically, Jeanne D’Arcy couldn’t have gone very far...especially if she thought they hadn’t realised she was dressed as a crewman. And yet, there were no shortages of places to hide. Anything more drastic than sweeping the entire ship—like venting the hull—would be vetoed by the captain.

  Once we dock, the locals will insist on searching the ship, he thought. And that will be unfortunate.

  * * *

  Jeanne checked her link to the computer network and swore, under her breath, when she saw the order for all non-essential personnel to return to their cabins. Someone had discovered the crewwomen, then. They had to have some reason to issue an order that would cause massive inconvenience over the next few hours, even if they caught her at once. This wasn’t a merc ship. The disruption of their routines would probably drive them mad.

  And they’re blocking all my lines of escape, she thought.

  Jeanne gritted her teeth. She was sure she could beat two or three guards in hand-to-hand combat—and she still had one of the guns with an extra mag—but they had her measure now. The guard posts would be in constant contact with their fellows, allowing them to tighten the noose. She could get into the tubes, she figured, but they’d anticipate that, too. There was no way she could avoid them indefinitely.

  I need to think out of the box, she thought. And that means being clever.

  Shaking her head, she turned and hurried towards the nearest airlock. There probably wouldn’t be a guard, but if there was she could deal with him...

  It wasn’t ideal, she admitted freely. But options were growing more and more limited.

  * * *

  “The guard posts are reporting to me every five minutes,” Allen said, as he organised the remainder of his team. “She’s somewhere within the sealed zone—and she can’t get out without crossing the line.”

  “Good,” Ivan growled. “And when you catch her, you will give her to me.”

  Allen shrugged. “Ask the captain,” he said. “He’ll handle all such affairs.”

  * * *

  Jeanne peeked around the corner—and cursed as she pulled her head back. A single guard...he looked alert, too alert. And she knew the others were closing in. They might not have seen her, but given time, they could probably use the internal sensors to track her down.

  She pulled off her top, allowing her breasts to bounce freely, then started to walk down the corridor, hips flowing in a natural seductive rhythm. The guard stared, just for a second, then grabbed for his gun. Jeanne brought her own gun up from where she held it behind her back and put two taser rounds into his chest. Her feminine charms had bought her the edge. Men were so easily caught off guard by a C-cup.

  The airlock hissed open an instant before the next set of guards arrived. Jeanne darted inside, closing and sealing the airlock behind her. They’d be careful about opening it as the system was designed to ensure only one set of hatches was open
at once. Cutting through the hatch would risk depressurising the entire section. She had no idea if the security officers had spacesuits. Even if they did, cutting through the hatch wasn’t worth the risk as the ship’s passengers were all civilians.

  She plucked a suit from the hanger, checked the life support system, and started to open the hatch.

  * * *

  “She’s opening the exterior hatch,” the bridge officer said. “She’s launched herself into space.”

  Allen frowned. The spacesuit was rocketing into space, propelled by gas jets and what little atmosphere had been left in the airlock. It was a stupid move. Capricorn was a great deal closer to the planet now, but there was little hope of her finding safe harbour before she ran out of air or was caught by the locals. And yet, it was hard to see what else she’d done...

  “Then I’ll go after her,” Ivan snapped. “Take me back to my shuttle.”

  “Very well,” Allen said. If nothing else, he would be glad to be rid of Ivan. The man was a thug, a thug and a bully. “Combs, escort him back to his shuttle.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  Allen watched them go, then turned to look back at the airlock. It was cycling open now, revealing an empty compartment. There was nowhere to hide. Nor were there any missing suits, save the one they’d seen flying off into space. Perhaps she had tried a desperate leap after all...

  Or perhaps...

  He stopped. He knew, suddenly, precisely what she’d done.

  * * *

  As she moved along the hull, Jeanne silently promised herself that she would thank the man who’d given her this assignment by killing him. Technically, she could survive in space for a brief period. She had let her eyes tear up and narrowed them to tiny slits. The water froze, making a narrow viewing port of frozen water which protected her eyes. She’d emptied her lungs of air, and clamped her mouth closed. One hand pulled her along the holds on the outside of the hull while the other held her nose closed.