At a great distance, Rafe heard the medic's voice.
"Oh, shit! He's crashing."
Chapter 6
Kama looked on as the medic and Browning transferred McTavish to his cot. What was he doing here? He was the last person she expected to see. Six months ago, his geek rangers nearly caught her hacking into the Wandermere Consortium computers. Unknown to her, they'd employed Security Partners—McTavish's company—to upgrade their internal and external security. She'd needed all her considerable skill to dump their network trace in a dead-end. No one had ever come so close to nailing her. Just thinking about it made her twitch.
From his reputation in the security community, she'd credited him with more sense than to blow his cover by wearing expensive custom clothing while pretending to be some lowly inspector, but maybe he was just the pretty face of Security Partners while the smart people worked behind the scenes. Or maybe not-so-smart people if they allowed their brainless figurehead to go on a dangerous mission unprepared.
Had his handlers really let him run off alone to play bodyguard to the CEO of EcoMech? Shouldn't he have his own bodyguards? All rich corporate types did. And mercenaries were brawny giants, not wiry guys like him. What did he say to provoke the beating, and why hadn't he gotten away with the rest of the boarding party? Maybe he'd been frozen with fear when the miners responded.
She chewed her lip and frowned. She'd been proud of blowing the whistle on his little game until she'd seen the murderous looks on the miners' faces. She didn't like thinking she'd put some helpless desk jockey in jeopardy even if he was a corporate slimeball.
His skin shaded a sickly gray, and the medic pumped one hypospray after another into his neck, checking the electronic medical stats bracelet strapped to his wrist after each one. Dead or alive, he meant trouble. If he survived, he'd be underfoot, and if he didn't, Earth Authority would come down on the station with a vengeance, bringing more attention her direction than she liked. She wanted him gone, but not dead. She couldn't wish that for him, even if he was a smarmy corporate liar. Vishnu watch over him. A dull ache crept up the back of her skull, and she rolled her shoulders, willing herself to relax.
"He needs a doctor," the medic said. He looked up at Browning, the fear plain on his face. "A real doctor."
"God damn it." Browning stared down at the medic, then broke eye contact. He looked around the cramped com room. "Where's Roshal?"
Kama glanced over her shoulder, but the shipping manager had disappeared with the disgruntled miners. Only the com tech remained in the room, and he played deaf, dumb, and blind.
"God damn it," Browning swore again. "Get him back to the infirmary and do what you can."
The smelter supervisor rushed from the room as the medic flagged the com tech over, and together they maneuvered the squeaking hand trolley carrying McTavish away down the corridor. Kama shut the door behind them and took a deep breath.
What in the name of Shiva was going on here? If EcoMech had bought the secret of the Sharma Network from Levine, it explained their sudden interest in acquiring the station. What corporation wouldn't jump at the chance to supply materials for the building of jump gates? They cost a bloody fortune, ate materials like a black hole swallowed light, and had the potential to make billions in revenue.
Had Galaxy and EcoMech colluded against the miners after learning about the Sharma Network? Did Galaxy have some legal trick up their sleeve to negate the miners' purchase? Judging by events, EcoMech hadn't expected a hostile welcome, which seemed to belie a conspiracy. Regardless, the miners wouldn't stand a chance in an ownership war with two bully mega-corps like Galaxy and EcoMech.
Where was Levine? Was he party to the scam? And why had the CEO of a giant corp like EcoMech come all the way out here with the masquerading CEO of a security company? Far-flung expeditions were typically left to lackeys. Pondering so many unanswered questions made her head throb.
She had to get a message to Samir right away, let him notify Oasis management that their secret plans weren't so secret anymore. Maybe they could speed up their timetable to purchase the materials for the Sharma Network jump gates before speculators heard about it. Without the network, the poor would stagnate on Earth for more untold generations. She couldn't let that happen on her watch.
Besides, if the station was about to be overrun with corporate executives, EA law enforcement investigators, and mercs, she wanted an escape hatch. She'd get Samir to send a ship and return to her students at the computer tech training school on Earth. She didn't want to be on Security Partners' radar, or EA's either. They made her skin crawl.
Settling in at the console, she activated the long range com software, one nail tapping the desk while she waited. Instead of the usual sending interface, a series of error messages scrolled down the screen. Hissing at the errors, she flicked the system off, counted to ten, and switched it on again. Rebooting didn't cure the problem, so she turned to the bank of archaic equipment behind her.
An access panel stood ajar. Kama opened it and had her answer—an empty slot where the modulation board should be. Then she remembered Browning's comments about the system being down. Maybe the board had finally failed and the tech had removed it intending to replace it, but what horrible timing. She wouldn't feel safe until she knew she had a backdoor available for a quick escape, and she couldn't arrange that without access to communications.
Thwarted by the missing board, she returned to the com console. The com tech would return any moment, but maybe she could find the correspondence between Levine and EcoMech or Galaxy where he coughed up the Sharma Network. It might provide information crucial to delaying leakage of Oasis' secrets.
With a few hurried keystrokes, she brought up the message queue. All but one of the previous night's messages had gone out in a single batch at midnight. The final message had gone out nearly two and a half hours later: 2:18 a.m. Levine's name was in the Sender category. She pressed more keys with shaking fingers. The list vanished, and the full text of the message popped up.
EcoMech arriving, no time to waste. Meet me as before.
She switched back to the message list and scanned the address bar of Levine's message; it looked like a ship identification code: SD321-44321. Was Levine making a run for it? Before she could check more of the message queue, something thumped against the com room door, and she jumped. She quickly exited the software. The door lock clicked, and the scrawny, sallow tech glared at her.
"Can I help you, Miss?"
Kama scrambled up from the chair, heart racing. "I wanted to send a message to Oasis, let them know I arrived."
"Don't hold your breath, lady. The equipment's down, and I have no ETA for new parts. Miss Patty says we don't have a replacement, and with the long-range down, we can't order anything." The tech reclaimed his seat at the console.
Kama tugged the zipper of her coveralls down enough to expose a triangle of honey skin that hinted at cleavage beyond and widened her eyes. "Warm in here, isn't it? Hey, maybe I could help with the repairs. What's wrong exactly?"
The tech's eyes lingered on her chest before slipping to the open access panel. "Someone stole a part."
"Wow," Kama said, wheels turning furiously in her mind. Blatant theft? "Who's got access to this room?"
"We don't lock the door," the tech said. His eyes flickered between her face and her chest like a strobe light gone mad.
She pursed her lips and asked for more with a questioning brow.
"A lot of the guys come in here to record their messages home whenever they get a spare minute, and then Miss Patty sends them out in a daily batch," he explained. "It was a nuisance having to unlock the place at all hours. Besides, we know our guys. Something happens, it's not too hard to figure out who it might be when you live this close together."
Kama didn't point out the obvious fallacy of that statement. Instead, she leaned over the console, giving the tech a beguiling smile and a peek down her coveralls. "Isn't the com station manned around the
clock?"
He licked his lips and puffed out his chest. "Can't afford it now that we're an owner-operated facility. If something marked urgent comes in after hours, the computer forwards an alert to my nanocom. Hey, maybe I could answer your questions over a cup of coffee?"
"Maybe later." Kama dragged fingertips down her neck to her zipper and eased it another inch lower. The tech sucked in his breath. "Is SD321-44321 one of the station's ships?"
"I've never heard of it. All our vessel codes are prefixed G132. Apart from the mail ship you came in on last night, the only deep-space ship that's been around here lately is the monthly robot supply drone, and that's still tied to the side—doesn't leave until tonight."
Kama plucked her duffel from the floor and headed for the door, more driven than ever to contact Samir. Maybe he could still catch Levine. She didn't want to think about what her boss might do to the manager.
"Hey," the tech called. "I thought you were going to try to repair the com?"
"Oh, yeah, well I can't repair what isn't there to repair, now can I?"
She gave him a wave and shut the door behind her. Then she yanked her zipper up to her neck. Levine had trashed the radio and set up a rendezvous. He wouldn't leave without his cash chip, so he must still be here. They could catch him at the rendezvous, but Samir would have to scramble.
If she couldn't use the station's long range equipment, she'd have to find some elsewhere. Maybe that floating emporium parked near the station.
She stowed her bag on her shoulder, ready with a new plan. All she needed was to borrow a ride. Reviewing her memory of the station layout, she hurried away to the runabout docking bay.
Through the door viewport, she made out two runabouts parked in the bay. She didn't see anyone. Checking both ways of the corridor first, she cracked the hatch and slipped inside. At the sound of low voices, she froze. Damn. She couldn't open the outer bay doors with men in the bay. The worrisome tone of the voices sent her digging in her bag for her amplifier ear bud.
On silent feet, she crept closer to the far runabout and peeked around it. Four miners hunched over a work table nursing coffee, ignoring the machine parts scattered before them. Kama pulled back and listened.
"Of course he's in the infirmary. Where else would he be?" one of the miners grumbled. "Once we've taken him hostage, we can call that ship of theirs and tell them to go back to whatever swamp they crawled out of. Then we'll show Mr. Smart Ass Security Man we're not just a buncha dumb fucks here in the Belt."
"Are you sure their ship is full of mercs?" another asked. "I heard he was just an inspector."
"That's what he said, but he lied. That Oasis woman called him out. If it weren't for her warning, we'd be overrun with mercs right now, I betcha. I say we move and soon, before Browning gets any big ideas about how to handle things."
Kama's breath caught in her throat. They'd nearly killed McTavish already. If they roughed him up further, they'd finish him, and it would be her fault. When she'd called his bluff, she hadn't thought about why he might be laying low, keeping his identity hidden. Nor had she realized the grievous extent of his injuries. All she'd seen was another lying, greedy corporate bastard trying to hoodwink the hardworking miners and getting the beating he'd probably deserved.
"No worries there. Browning brought that whore of his over from Maltraw's. She'll keep him busy until the money runs out." The speaker laughed, and the others chuckled with him. "Man, wish I made a manager's salary."
She edged back to the hatch. In the corridor, she broke into a jog, all thought of stealing a runabout pushed aside. She had to warn Browning. They should move McTavish, hide him somewhere. Or better yet, put him on a shuttle to the EcoMech ship or to Maltraw's as promised. Guilt and fear sped her feet across the metal decking.
Several minutes later and out of breath, Kama reached the infirmary. She stepped in without bothering to knock. McTavish lay on a cot across the room. She heard the unsteady beep of the monitor tracing his vitals, and his color hadn't improved. The medic hovered at his side. At the foot of the bed, Browning argued with a woman. Both of them broke off and turned to her.
"Who's this, Ed?" The woman's voice had a mellifluous quality that turned anything she said into an open invitation. Females might be rare in the asteroid belt, but this one would have drawn stares anywhere. The electric blue eyes were obviously cosmetic lenses, and Kama thought a certain amount of technology had gone into producing her shape. Real women just didn't look like that, even in figure-hugging space fatigues. Jet black hair lavishly streaked with pink and purple and a face that did justice to the rest of the ensemble topped off the voluptuous whole.
"Have we met?" the apparition purred with a hint of hackles rising.
"Janice Fisher, this is Ms. Bhatia," Browning said, glowering at Kama. "She's from Oasis, helping us upgrade our equipment. She arrived last night."
The claws sheathed, but Fisher didn't look any happier than Browning. She extended a perfectly manicured hand. "Welcome aboard."
Kama took it, catching a gust of a provocative perfume laced with artificial pheromones meant to drive men wild. No doubts lingered about what Janice Fisher did for a living.
"I hate to interrupt," the medic said, "but this man isn't getting any better."
Fisher leaned over to read the monitor, then planted hands on her ample hips. "Ed, if he finds out I've worked on him or what treatment I've used…"
"You can't let him die," Browning said. "You know you can't."
"I can't guarantee my treatment will save him. It's still experimental," she shot back. She jerked a thumb at Kama. "And I thought this was going to be between just you and me."
Browning ran a hand over his forehead. He grabbed Kama's elbow and propelled her out the infirmary door. "Just do it," he ordered over his shoulder, then snapped the door shut behind them.
Kama wondered what kind of 'treatment' a woman like Janice could administer to McTavish. Massage therapy maybe? She checked both directions of the corridor, expecting angry miners to pour down on them.
"Listen, you have to move McTavish. I overheard a group of miners plotting to come for him."
"They're just blowing off steam; they don't mean anything. Look, I don't have time for this. Go back to your quarters and stay there while we sort things out."
He turned to go. Kama's anger surged. She grabbed his arm, felt the heavy bulge of muscles tense. "If McTavish dies, you know EA will be looking for a fall guy, and you're the one with the prison record."
His face darkened and his lips set in a grim smile. "I'm doing my level best to keep the lying bastard alive. If we move him again, we'll kill him for sure."
"Then set guards, a bunch of them. All these men can't be bloodthirsty brutes. Some of them must have a grain of common sense and a modicum of human decency."
"All right," Browning finally said. "But you didn't see Janice in there, got it? She was never on the station."
He chugged off along the corridor, the sound of his progress marked by a long hacking cough. Kama wondered how long it would take for guards to arrive. When they did, would they be armed? How would she distinguish Browning's guards from miners bent on finishing off McTavish? She'd better take her own precautions. She ducked back into the infirmary.
Janice was just tucking a piece of electronic equipment Kama didn't recognize into a large metal box. When she moved closer to examine the contents in the heavily padded interior, Janice slammed the lid shut and locked it. The lock was high tech, something that would take Kama at least twenty uninterrupted minutes to hack. Her interest in Janice soared.
They both moved to the bedside. Kama noticed they'd stripped McTavish of his expensive suit and covered him with a thin blanket. The surprisingly muscular shoulders, exposed above the blanket, bore a plethora of overlapping purple bruises. An IV tube ran from a bag of synth-blood hung over his head down to his arm. She wondered again what he'd done to anger the miners into delivering such a beating.
"
How's he doing?"
A look passed between the medic and Janice, and the medic replied, "Too early to tell."
Kama waited a beat. "You must be from that other ship? The one with all the colored lights?"
Janice looked her up and down. "Yeah, that's my ride. Is there something I can do for you?"
"I just thought it was lucky there was a doctor close by." Janice didn't flinch, but the medic's eyes widened. Kama smiled to herself.
Janice laughed. "They don't give out medical licenses for what I do, honey. The 'establishment' doesn't much like alternative treatment. Takes away from their bottom line."
"I've always been interested in alternative medicine. What do you do?"
The woman lifted a carefully plucked eyebrow in appraisal. "I place very special crystals on a select set of meridian points, and then I repeat a chant I learned from a monk in the mountains of Tibet that causes the crystals to vibrate on certain frequencies. The vibrations affect the meridian points, and the activation of the meridian points induces healing."
As a well-practiced liar herself, Kama gave the woman points for chutzpah. Her competitive nature drove her to press further and see how long it took to break down her story.
Janice spoke first. "This man a friend of yours? You seem pretty worried."
"Hell, no," Kama replied too quickly, uncomfortable that the woman had picked up on her concern. "Wouldn't catch me within a light year of a guy like this."
"Too bad. From everything I've seen—and I mean everything, he'd be a catch for any woman." She waggled her eyebrows. "I hear he's rich, too. But with your looks, I guess you can afford to be picky."
"He's not my type, believe me." She thrust her hands in her pockets and frowned at McTavish, remembering the handsome features from the news vids instead of the pulpy mess on the pillow.
"And what's your type? Someone who will admire your brains instead of that pretty face? That why you camouflage your assets?"
Kama stepped back. Janice had it wrong. She didn't want a man, any man, regardless of what he admired about her. She snuffed out the little spark of passion and longing catching in her chest.
Calculated Risk Page 4