by Jason Hutt
Chapter 20
We.
The Senator had said ‘we.’
Hannah snapped awake, bolting upright atop her makeshift bed on top of a supply crate in the back corner of the maintenance room. She glanced around, noted the cued-up row of cleaning bots ready to start their daily rounds and hopped down from the crate. She called up the notes she had intercepted from the Senator’s computer.
There it was, plain as day, Senator Cahill was scheduled to be on the transport shuttle carrying Max to Ceres. She checked the time; it was already 6:00 am. Hannah bolted down the access corridor to the apartment, triggered the grate, and burst into the room. The apartment was empty; the Senator was gone.
Hannah stood there, unsure of what to do. She closed her eyes and looked at the ceiling, praying for guidance.
“The last thing I would tell you,” Ironheart had said, “Is to trust your gut. But let’s be honest here, you don’t have a gut to trust. No amount of information flash-loaded into your brain will give you instinct. Instinct comes with time and experience. So don’t trust your gut. When in doubt, do what it takes to get the job done and get out. Don’t get cute; don’t get fancy. Keep it simple.”
“Why me?” Hannah asked. “Why send me if you don’t think I’ll be able to do it?”
Ironheart had paused before looking at her with his intense glare.
“Two reasons. One, I don’t have much choice given how badly we were just decimated. Two, given what just happened, I’m not sure this partnership is worth it to me. If you succeed, great for you. You’ll have learned a thing or two and be that much more valuable an asset. If you fail, I’m not sure I give a shit. If you die, well, I’m no worse off than I am right now.
“You’re on your own, Hannah. Time to show the galaxy what you can do.”
Even now with lightyears between them and days since they were uttered, Ironheart’s words stung. She looked at the cleaning bots, the other ‘assets’, and her face flushed with anger. When Ironheart had uttered those words, Hannah had wanted to lash out, to hit him with every last ounce of fury buried deep within her and he knew it. He opened his stance, puffed out his chest, and extended his chin. She could take the shot.
Hannah knew then that she would not win. Hit or miss, he would win. Her mind travelled back to the open field on Maisha and her lessons with Doctor Leigh. Sweat had coated her as the sun touched the horizon and her muscles ached from hours of practice. Time and again he made her fight. He always won. Fight after fight, she made mistake after mistake, and he won.
She could never win.
Hannah dropped her pack and fell to her knees as tears streamed down her face. A cleaning bot bumped into her. She sobbed, knowing she was invisible to even the servants. She pulled the pack close to her as the bot backed up and moved around her. Through the bag’s slightly open top, she could see the silver sheen of a detonator.
Hannah stared at it, knowing the destructive power it contained. She breathed deep and gathered herself. All the while staring at the detonator. Hannah knew what needed to be done.
She slung the pack over her shoulder and started walking, tentatively at first but within seconds she was in a full run. Hannah reached the lift and overrode the controls to take her to the rooftop pad. The door whisked open and Hannah scanned the lot. A middle-aged man was walking toward a red aircar.
Hannah activated the suit and she became transparent. She sprinted to the man who had only heard the faintest whisper from her thudding footsteps and slapped a patch onto the back of his neck. His back arched and he dropped to the pavement in a heap. She stuffed his prone body into the back seat with little difficulty as rage powered her muscles.
Moments later she laid in a course for Fort Washington and the aircar took off into the morning dawn.
***
Max stood at the command from the security drone. The vaguely humanoid robot positioned itself precisely one meter behind Max. A buzzer sounded and Max’s cell door slid open.
“Proceed,” the robot said, “Follow the yellow line.”
Max looked down and a yellow line appeared on the white floor. He took a tentative step forward and his whole body seemed to shake. He would give up this entire plan for one stiff drink.
“Reminder, failure to comply with directives will result in immediate disciplinary actions potentially up to termination.”
“Right,” Max said, taking another shaky step forward. After a half dozen more steps, the shaking subsided and he walked with purpose. The yellow line had him wander through a series of corridors that he would swear doubled back on itself at least twice before reaching a terminus.
“Halt,” the robot ordered.
“Nowhere to go,” Max said.
“Remain silent.”
He considered a reply, but thought the better of it. A harsh buzz in the room made Max flinch and then a large white door sprang up from the floor behind him and closed with a resounding clang. Max took an involuntary step away from the door.
“No unauthorized movement.”
Max rolled his eyes. He started counting the seconds and when he reached ten he felt compelled to say something but, thankfully, the wall in front of him started to swing away and Max felt rays of sunshine dance over his skin. Cool air blew over him and sent a chill down his spine. Max closed his eyes and breathed deep.
“Proceed.”
Max marched forward, goose-stepping slightly. He emerged onto the familiar confines of a spacecraft landing pad, raised about a hundred meters off the ground. Ahead of him, eight human soldiers flanked an oversized aircar, four flanking each side. Max marched to the end of the yellow line which stopped just a few meters short of the vehicle.
“Halt,” the robot ordered again. The gleaming white hulk stepped forward toward the assembled guards. Max noted the small aperture on the robot’s back that stayed focused on Max no matter where the drone moved.
After momentarily stopping, the drone rolled up to the nearest guard and extended an arm which unfolded into a small touchscreen. The solider pressed his right thumb to the screen. A moment later the robot beeped.
“Prisoner transfer approved. I, XJ797, hereby remand custody of Maxime Cabot to you, Sergeant Horvath Naakesh.”
The line Max was standing on suddenly extended toward the waiting aircar. This time, Max didn’t hesitate. He quickly stepped forward and climbed into the rear of the vehicle. Roger Shaw was already sitting in the back. Roger wouldn’t make eye contact; instead, he just stared at the floor.
Max sat down against a partition dividing the two halves of the vehicle, facing towards the rear. Six of the soldiers climbed in the back with four sitting on one side to Max’s left and the other two flanking Roger on Max’s right. The aircar shook slightly as the other two soldiers seated themselves in the front. Then after exactly fifty-seven seconds by Max’s count, the aircar lifted smoothly from the pad and accelerated away from the prison.
***
Akimbe watched as the aircar carrying Max and his escorts lifted off the pad of Waverly Prison. Akimbe then jumped into his rental and programmed a course for Fort Washington. The olive green military transport that Max had boarded was now a faint speck in the distance. Akimbe switched over to manual control of the vehicle, increased speed, and closed the gap.
Hannah hadn’t made her move, but she would. He was sure of it. He could feel her out there, biding her time, laughing at the Republic’s futility in tracking her.
She thinks she was better than all of us, Akimbe thought, that she could outsmart all of us. No, that’s not going to happen today.
He kept his eyes on every other vehicle on the flight path, closing the gap whenever one seemed to get to close to the transport vehicle. A red Corsair had started to creep up on the transport’s rear. Akimbe gunned ahead until he could look the car’s passenger in the eye. The older man in the driver’s seat gave him a slack-jawed stare when he saw Akimbe was piloting. Akimbe could see the older man scream something and the
Corsair dropped away. Akimbe’s heart rate slowed and he relaxed his grip on the controls.
The gate to the base was close and Akimbe backed off. Max’s transport pulled up to the Fort Washington security checkpoint and was through after a brief check.
Akimbe brought his aircar to a stop. From here, it was a quick trip to the landing field. She could be waiting in ambush, he thought.
Technically, he wasn’t banned from entering the base, but doing so would most likely trigger an alert to Admiral Kersey and he would need to explain his presence to the review board. He drummed his fingers on the dash as the transport faded to a small point on the horizon.
Akimbe grabbed the controls and piloted the aircar to the gate.
***
Maria’s aircar sidled up to the guard station. A young woman came out as Maria lowered her window. Maria quickly checked herself in the mirror and dabbed at the dark circles under her eyes with just a touch of makeup. Hopefully she looked slightly less like she had been up all night trying to decide which of her belongings to pack up and which she would leave forever.
The young guard with the blonde ponytail leaned over and stared into the car.
“Good morning, Madam Senator,” she said, “Where are you headed this morning?”
“Trying to catch a shuttle to Ceres. Last minute fill-in for an inspection tour.”
The young woman held a small pad out toward Maria. Maria reached out and placed her left thumb on the pad.
“Have a safe trip, ma’am,” the guard said as she straightened up and turned away. A half step later, she stopped and looked at the tablet. “Hold a second, ma’am. It looks like I’ve got a hold request for you. From Capitol security.”
Maria rubbed at her temple and shot her best confused glare at the woman. “Oh, I forget to file my export paperwork. Look, I’m terribly sorry, but if I don’t hurry I’m going to miss the shuttle. Mind if I just transfer the file to you?”
“I don’t know that I can do that, ma’am.”
“It’s your choice, but I really need to get to that shuttle. I’m very sorry to be such a bother. I’ve been up all night and just forgot what I was doing.” The excuses sounded paltry to Maria’s ears. She started tapping frantically on her wrist computer. “I know I’ve got my forms here somewhere, just hold on a second.”
The young woman gave her a smile. “Don’t worry about it, ma’am. You can clear it up when you get back. Go on ahead.”
“Thank you,” Maria said with a tilt of her head and a sigh of relief that was more than genuine. Maria didn’t give the guard a chance to reconsider and commanded the aircar forward.
***
Hannah commanded her stolen aircar to park at the outlet of an aqueduct that ran beneath the base. The exit was a good hundred feet off the ground, sprouting from the giant, ivy-covered concrete foundation of the base with a steady stream of water that poured down and disappeared into the forest below.
According to the map, the landing pad she needed was only a couple of hundred yards from here. She agonized over which bits of gear to have at the ready. She placed another toxin patch on her palm and rummaged through the bottom of the backpack to pull out a small black pistol. It was a throwaway model, relatively easy to smuggle in some uncomfortable places, and didn’t pack much of a punch. It would do in a pinch, but Hannah had no idea if she was going to be in a position to use it.
Hannah bit the inside of her lip as she eyed the pack of explosives and proximity charges.
“Fuck it,” she said as she grabbed the two packs and strapped them across her chest. She checked the proximity detonator and set it to two meters. Finally, she grabbed a single-shot shield pack and slapped it on her belt. Then, a hundred meters above the forest floor, Hannah leapt across the meter gap and into the open pipe. Hannah sprinted down the waterway.
***
The aircar came to a stop and the rear doors opened. Max’s six escorts quickly filed out and then waited. Max took a careful step out of the vehicle and looked around; Roger Shaw was lead out behind him. The sun was now clear above the horizon and Max slowly tilted his head to take in its warmth.
The landing pad was clear of people, no media throng, no angry crowd, no one ready to skin and flay him. A solitary shuttle sat yards away; no other vehicles were present. The driver and co-pilot of the aircar stepped out and joined the ranks of the other six guards. With Max and Roger between two columns of escorts, the ten men and women marched across the landing pad and up the shuttle’s ramp.
The shuttle was small, designed for function rather than for elegance, with a capacity to hold about fifteen to twenty people. A central corridor ran through from the entrance ramp at the back to the two-seat cockpit in the front. Just behind the cockpit was a small, two-seat section for VIPs, with seating that featured plush red seat cushions rather than the bare metal benches where Max was directed to sit.
Two of Max’s escort sat to his left, two to his right, and the other four on the bench opposite him across the aisle with Roger situated in the middle of them. Max held up his still restrained hands.
“Nope,” the guard next to him responded.
Max sighed and Roger shot him a quizzical look.
***
Maria arrived at the landing field just as Max and his guards were walking up the ramp. She tapped her foot anxiously as she waited for the aircar to come to a complete stop. Seconds later, she hopped out and hurried to the trunk. By the time it popped open, the shuttle co-pilot had bounded down the ramp to help her get her bags.
“Thank you,” she said as she hoisted one out of the trunk. The young man reached in and grabbed the other.
“We better get moving, Madam Senator. We likely don’t have a lot of time,” he said.
“Agreed,” she said. She turned toward the shuttle when someone shouted out her name.
***
“Senator Cahill,” Akimbe yelled. He had set down about fifty yards away and was sprinting toward the Senator. The shuttle co-pilot who was helping Maria with her bags protectively stepped in front of the Senator.
Akimbe remembered he wasn’t in uniform. He stopped running and held up both his hands, palms out, showing they were empty. “I apologize, Madam Senator, I don’t mean to startle you, but I have reason to believe you’re in danger here. I’m Commander Akimbe, I was the one pursuing Max and Hannah Cabot. I apologize for my appearance; I’m not used to me being out of uniform either.”
She nodded at him with vague recognition.
Akimbe continued, “Senator, Hannah Cabot is here, now, and she’s looking for her father. You need to get on that shuttle, now.”
“Hannah Cabot,” Maria responded, a bit dazed.
“Yes, we know she-” Akimbe’s sentence was cut short as his shoulder erupted in pain.
***
Hannah heard Akimbe say her name as she cut through the drain cover to access to the landing field. She poked her head through the opening and looked around. Maria’s gaze was fixed on Akimbe. Hannah activated her suit and pulled herself up. She became a shimmering apparition as she set foot on the landing pad.
She heard the Senator say her name with what seemed like only vague recognition. Hannah’s anger erupted. Here was the woman who had ruined Hannah’s life, the woman who had set in motion the chain of events that killed her mother, the woman whose sole mission was to capture the only friends and family had left.
And she can’t even remember my name, Hannah thought.
Warning Maria was the man who was directly responsible for the cold-blooded murder of her mother and who had ripped away her home, her family, her friends. She raised the pistol with trembling hands. Shoot Maria and then Akimbe and the other guard would quickly gun her down. No, her only chance was to take Akimbe and the other solider out first.
Hannah fired at Akimbe, hitting him in the shoulder. He screamed and dropped to the deck of the landing field. The soldier next to Maria drew his sidearm, but didn’t see anything to aim at. Hannah steadi
ed her aim and squeezed the trigger. A beam of light erupted from her weapon and struck the man in the chest and he collapsed to the ground.
***
Max heard someone shout, calling out to Maria. Max tilted his head, trying to place the familiar voice. When Commander Akimbe introduced himself, Max’s stomach knotted. When Akimbe mentioned Hannah’s name, Max’s eyes went wide. Then he heard the electric sizzle of a laser being fired and someone shouted in pain.
The two guards to Max’s right immediately shot up, drew their sidearms, and sprinted toward the ramp. The guard to Max’s left started to stand. Max thrust his still restrained hands in front of the young man’s path.
“Undo these, so I can stop this,” Max said.
The young man scowled at him and pushed him back on the bench. “Stay there, Max. We’ll handle this.”
Max stood back up and blocked the young man’s path.
“That’s my daughter out there. Hannah Cabot is my daughter. Let me stop this before anyone else has to die.”
Nobody moved.
“Now, damnit!”
***
Senator Cahill had ducked behind the aircar. Hannah circled around so she’d be able to take a shot. Maria came into view, her back to Hannah. The older woman was trying to sneak a peek under the aircar to see where Hannah was.
Hannah deactivated the stealth suit and peeled back her hood. “Maria Cahill,” Hannah called out as she raised her weapon.
Maria’s eyes went wide at the sight of the leveled pistol.
Hannah’s lips quivered as the muscle in her finger twitched.
***
Akimbe’s shoulder was a ball of fire and tears filled his eyes. He gritted his teeth and looked around. The soldier who had been standing next to the Senator lay on the ground, a small tendril of smoke rising from the blackened center of his chest. The Senator had dropped to the ground to take what cover she could behind the aircar.
Akimbe scanned, trying to find the attacker. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a flicker of motion and then a woman in a black skin-tight stealth suit materialized five meters in front of him.