Harish took the helm with Sogun. Yajain sat one seat from the cockpit, across from Pansar and Boskem as they shot towards the nearest settlement with the port.
Pansar’s logic seemed sound. Mosam and Adya couldn’t risk being spotted landing at the port itself, but it was their best chance to find an escape route after the storm passed.
The tumbler banked steadily despite Harish’s complaints about the cargo weight. The solna of the pillar gleamed high above in the misty air out Yajain’s viewport, fierce red light seeming even more distant than it really was. It bathed the cabin in a cold crimson glow.
The tumbler swept in over the terrace. Sogun requested a lock down on docks. Judging by the nod she gave Pansar she got it. The team descended to the terrace.
“Finder Boskem, stay on board,” Pansar said. “I’ll call if we need back up.”
“Understood, sir.”
The gray-bearded military police officer, Akon stood up, along with the skinny bald one, Jacsaro. They walked to the back ramp as it began to lower. Before it came down the whole way they dropped out onto the street.
Pansar stood up and waved Sonetta, Banedd, Ogidar, and Yajain to go ahead of him.
“Let’s make this clean. We don’t know if the mind’s fleet will come back or not.”
Yajain felt the grip of the plasma pistol at her hip as she walked.
Mosam, this time you’re going to give me answers.
She dropped off the ramp and onto the street behind the tumbler. She looked around the sleek Ditari buildings that ringed the area the tumbler touched down. I could have grown up in a place like this. And it’s here I become like a real hunter. Yajain scowled. One way or another, the hunt was on.
Wind howled through the streets, cold and biting in Yajain’s hunter’s ears. She dialed down the receptivity with one hand while keeping the other on her coil pistol. Her fingers brushed the vare blade sheathed beside the pistol. The sword comforted her despite the situation.
Don’t end up defenseless again.
The team fanned out, checking corners on the empty street.
The civilians must be indoors with that storm so close.
Yajain followed Banedd and Jacsaro one building’s curved dome.
She fell into a crouch and dialed up her ears again, trying to tune out the wind a little. Skinny Jacsaro glanced at her.
“What’re you doing?”
Yajain winced at the amplification of his voice.
“Trying to listen for them,” she said.
Banedd walked past her, rifle trained on the far side of the dome. Jacsaro scanned the street. He met Pansar’s eyes across the street and made a fist with one hand.
Both teams moved along the street, carefully combing the ghost town for almost an hour until they reached the gate leading into the pillar’s interior.
“If I was a terrorist,” Pansar said into his command microphone, “I wouldn’t risk dying in a storm if I could hide inside.”
Jacsaro and Akon nodded. Sonetta and Yajain exchanged glances. Banedd’s face turned grim. Ogidar tensed with his rifle.
Yajain turned to Pansar.
“Do we know where they landed the APV yet?”
“Finder Boskem located it at a cave mouth three hundred meters below the terrace.”
“They could be anywhere,” Yajain said. “That’s plenty of time to get here.”
“Doctor, leave this to me,” Pansar said. He walked into the lee of the gateway and called up to the doors. “This is Regional Officer Agan Pansar,” he said. “Open the gate. My team requires passage.”
The answer was in a Ditari language Yajain didn’t recognize. Ogidar walked into the passage to stand beside Pansar. Their armored uniforms shimmered with the first drops of rain pattering onto their backs.
Ogidar raised his hand and called in the same language. Then the gates slid open.
“Go, quickly,” Ogidar said. “They want to close the gate against the storm as soon as they can.”
Yajain and the others passed through the gate in single file. She let down her hood on the far side but kept her ears plugged into the hunting equipment. She dialed up the sensitivity and waited in the passage beyond the gate and listened for voices, really just one voice, Mosam’s.
Through the twisting walls of the cavernous settlement, she heard children calling out to each other as they played in the shelters. Officials talked about the damage the storm might cause in muffled tones. Young people whispered to each other and recordings of a few films played both music and dialog.
Mosam said, “They’re here Adya.”
Adya didn’t answer him with spoken words. A clank of machinery covered up anything she might have said over the next few seconds. Yajain tuned down the ears.
“They’re within a level of us,” she said.
“Probably below,” Pansar said. “But they may have had time to go higher.”
Jacsaro glared at no one in particular.
“The woman took down four guards in Castenlock’s brig. We shouldn’t split up if we’re going to attack.”
“I’ll make that decision,” Pansar said. “And I agree with you.”
“Sir, two or three levels is still a lot of space to cover,” Jacsaro said. “Where can we start?”
“There was something loud and mechanical near them,” Yajain said.
Jacsaro snapped his fingers.
“Supplemental generators. There’s probably a bank of them a level down too.”
“Maybe,” said Yajain.
Jacsaro glared at her.
Pansar’s brow furrowed and he glanced at a data pad that displayed a two-dimensional map of the level.
“We’ll head there first. Be on guard everyone.” He turned to Banedd. “Loattun, you and Narayme are with Akon. You’ll head straight to the generators. DiSayul, Doctor Aksari, Jacsaro, and I will cut around the opposite entrance of the bank. Stay in contact, but no lifts to avoid ripples they could detect.”
No lifts. Yajain’s hand found the coil pistol once more. She took a deep breath.
“Understood, sir.”
The two teams divided. Yajain hustled between Ogidar and Jacsaro while Pansar took the lead. They reached a drop shaft and descended to the next level on the ladder attached to the wall. Normally they would have simply used lifts, but Pansar’s order made sense to Yajain.
If they’re on guard they might notice arc ripples.
Yajain dropped off the ladder at the lower level. She joined Jacsaro by a low wall looking into a broad cavern and crouched. A broad atrium gave the cavern a wide open middle, its ceiling ten or twelve meters above.
Steps led down to another drop shaft at the other end of the atrium, one marked with the words for outside access in multiple languages. Lights beamed on the floor from the ceiling, reflecting on tiles and water. A tall ornamental fountain surrounded by a ring of interior garden plants bubbled in the center of the atrium.
Yajain glanced at Ogidar and Pansar as they moved to meet her and Jacsaro where they crouched.
Pansar muttered something into his comm link. He motioned to Jacsaro and the bald officer vaulted the wall, rifle in hand. He rushed to one side of a spindly fence that ringed the garden and fountain. Ogidar joined him, taking the opposite side.
Pansar and Yajain sprinted after them. Blood pumped to Yajain’s muscles. She stopped beside Ogidar.
The big cabler grunted and pointed to his side of the atrium. A doorway marked with Ditari letters stood barred. Yajain waved Pansar over.
“We’ve got something.”
Ogidar nodded.
“The sign says that door leads into the generator banks.”
“Perfect.” Pansar licked his lips. “Go. I’ll call Akon’s team, then join you.”
Yajain and Ogidar crossed to the doors. Jacsaro joined them with Pansar. Yajain turned up her ear’s sensitivity again and listened for voices. Mosam wasn’t speaking but someone was
moving inside the generator banks, someone with light and steady feet.
“Someone’s in there. Not sure if it’s him,” she said.
Pansar turned to Jacsaro.
“The other team is in position. Break the door on three. Two. One.”
Jacsaro tossed a small circular disk to the foot of the doorway. The little device burst with a shower of burning sparks. The door collapsed inward, melted and fused on one side. Metal burned with an unusual odor and heat assailed Yajain’s face as she raised her head to look.
Pansar directed Ogidar forward. Yajain drew the plasma pistol from her belt. She, Jacsaro, and Pansar approached the door with Ogidar.
“All clear,” said the cabler.
“Jacsaro, take point.” Pansar glared down the hallway. “Quick and careful. Go.”
Jacsaro raised his rifle and slipped down the hallway. He checked three interior doors. Then the sound of coil fire sizzled from a fourth, sounding distant. Yajain’s jaw clenched.
They followed Jacsaro to the room and found a single-level drop shaft leading toward the smell of burnt air below. Jacsaro dropped in, no lifts, no ladder. He hit the ground below with a thump. Pansar followed him, then Yajain.
The walls of the room below bubbled with fluid spray, floor tiles blackened by searing bolts of energy. Against one wall beside a doorway, Akon sat. His rifle lay burnt and twisted beside him. A single fluid burn spread from his shoulder down the chest plate of his armor. He gasped for air.
“Shit,” said Pansar. “Doctor, see what you can do for him.”
Yajain rushed over, dropped her pistol and opened her med kit. She unhooked the lock on the melted armor. It clattered to the floor beside Akon. His heart beat rapidly and erratically. His eyes blinked wildly.
His elevated temperature suggested a shock fever.
Yajain felt in the med kit for a cold pack and found it. She pressed the pack to his forehead.
“He’s not burned. But he must have gotten a near miss on his head.”
Pansar glowered and kicked Akon’s blackened rifle to the side. Another scream of coil fire sounded from somewhere down the hall beyond Akon. Pansar turned to Ogidar and Jacsaro.
“Go, stop them!”
The two soldiers raced out of the room, rifles readied. Pansar stood over Yajain and Akon.
“Will he die?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Sweat ran down Akon’s face and dripped onto the floor.
Yajain looked up at Pansar.
“You’d better go help them, sir.”
Pansar shook his head.
“Don’t tell me what I should do, traitor. You’ve been with him all along.” He raised a pistol and aimed it at Yajain. Her weapon sat on the floor beside Akon where she’d dropped it. Centimeters might as well have become kilometers.
“Don’t move,” Pansar said.
“Sir, I’m not—”
“Shut up. Don’t make me shoot.”
Yajain raised her hands.
“Agent Pansar, please.”
He stalked toward her.
Coil shots whistled and seared down the hallway. Yajain glared at Pansar.
“Your men need help.”
“And we don’t need to be shot in the back.” He crouched down and pressed the pistol to Yajain’s cheek. “He’s your boyfriend from years ago. I can’t trust you until you’re dead.”
Yajain glared at him sideways, fighting to hold her fear at bay.
“Damn it, sir. He crippled my sister!”
“Or was that part of the plan? You were in on it, weren’t you?” He stepped closer, looming over Yajain with cloudy, rapidly shifting eyes. He might be using neural fluids internally, given his odd breathing and the filters in his nose. Had he overdosed?
Tears trickled from Yajain’s eyes as father’s close quarters defense training came back to her. If she assaulted an imperial agent she really could be considered a traitor. Her sidelong gaze met him.
“You’re wrong,” she said. “I’d never do that.”
“Doctor, I wish I could believe you.” His finger slid toward the trigger.
Yajain’s leg swept out, connecting with Pansar’s ankle. She dropped onto her side. He fell with a grunt. Coil fluid sprayed the wall where Yajain’s head would have been. Then the wind went out of Pansar. Yajain scrambled to her feet, pistol in hand.
“I’m no traitor, but I’m not just going to let you shoot me.”
Pansar glared up at her, catching his breath. He still held his own weapon pointed at Yajain from his back. He said nothing. Yajain stared down at him. Pansar said, “Don’t make me do this, doctor.”
“I couldn’t make you do anything, sir. But Akon needs help.”
Pansar grunted but didn’t lower his weapon. Down the hallway footsteps pounded toward them at a run. Pansar’s eyes narrowed.
Mosam Coe appeared in the doorway, skidding to a stop. One arm hung bloody at his side, cabler uniform shredded. In his other hand, he gripped a coil pistol with an overheated barrel, glowing blue-white.
Yajain stared at him.
Pansar’s pistol juddered in his grip. He leveled it at Yajain.
“Coe, stop this immediately. Give yourself up.”
Mosam pressed the lift button in his palm with a quiet click. He leapt, using his whole body to fly. Pansar turned the pistol on him and pulled the trigger. Mosam’s wounded shoulder and upper arm burned with brilliant coil shot.
His lifts cut out and he landed, his heel on Pansar’s shoulder. Most of the agent’s shot went wide as Mosam pinned Pansar’s arm to the floor with a crunch.
Yajain stepped backward as Mosam’s pistol swung to aim at Pansar.
His face turned to Yajain.
“Did he hurt you?” Somehow his voice was calm though his shoulder still burned.
Yajain’s eyes widened. She pressed the pistol to Mosam’s side.
“Don’t move.”
“You can shoot me. You can turn me in if you want. Yajain. It’s your right. But there’s still something I have to do.”
Her hands shook.
“This man wants to kill me.”
“Is that so?” Mosam eased the glowing pistol barrel down to point at Pansar. “You know this woman, right agent?”
Pansar nodded.
Mosam smirked.
“Do you think hunting me is worth your life? Or hers?”
Pansar spat. Mosam turned his pistol and shot Pansar in the hand. Fluid seared the agent’s glove, fingers, and pistol grip. Pansar screamed in agony. Mosam kicked the burning hand, knocking the pistol from it and inciting another howl of pain.
Mosam stepped off of Pansar’s arm and winced. He looked at his own burnt shoulder and then past it at Yajain.
“Ija’s fleet will come back with the storm. This time they won’t stop until they’ve destroyed DiKandar Hall.”
He hung his head.
“I’ve got no right to ask you this, Yajain. But please, help me stop them.”
She stared at him.
“How can I? Do you know why they’re doing this?”
Pansar screamed and roared at them from the floor.
Mosam looked down at the agent.
“I’m afraid you won’t believe me.” He met her gaze. “It’s the tyrants, Yajain.”
Yajain glared at him. “Aliens? You expect me to believe they’re that dangerous?”
He sighed.
“Expect would be the wrong word.” Mosam’s eyes welled up with tears.
More footsteps and the sounds of rushing arc lifts came from down the hallway. He sagged visibly.
“Come with me if you want, but one way or another I have to leave. Now.”
Yajain stared at him, trying to discern the truth in his faltering expression. She swept up the medical sprayer and washed the residue from his shoulder and arm. He frowned at her as she closed the med kit. Yajain grabbed his arm and led him to the drop shaf
t.
“Lifts,” she said.
They ascended to the atrium level together.
Yajain and Mosam reached the atrium and he pointed with his unwounded arm toward the drop shaft leading to the outside.
“There!” he said. “The ship should pick us up somewhere below the settlement.”
“Can you fly that far with one arm?” Yajain indicated his burnt and bloody arm, held tight to his side.
Mosam glanced at her. His brow ran with sweat.
“Don’t worry about me.”
He clicked on his lifts and launched himself in a spiraling unstable path across the atrium. Yajain easily outpaced him, but he made it to the open gate of the drop shaft.
They flew inside and leveled out to descend feet first. She met his eyes, hoping he didn’t see her plan as she swam to his side in midair.
She took his wounded arm gently.
“Hang onto me.”
He wrapped his good arm around her waist.
“Thank you, Yajain.” His lifts deactivated with a low hiss audible to Yajain only because of the passive hunter’s ears.
She didn’t answer him, looking straight down. The broad tunnel diverged into two. One of them went back toward the outside, the other straight into the core chamber of the pillar. Yajain took a deep breath and stopped treading the air with her legs. She and Mosam plummeted. She aimed for the center point where the tunnels diverged.
He wants to go outside. But I can’t let him escape, for Dara, for Lin, for myself.
Air rushed around her. She linked in the wind from below. At the last instant, she angled into the core tunnel. Her grip on Mosam’s shoulders tightened.
“This is the wrong way,” he yelled over the wind.
Yajain gritted her teeth.
“No. It’s not.” Her voice was mostly whipped away by the cross breeze.
They glided down into the glowing light of the core’s brightest hour.
The massive cylinder extended through the floor a kilometer away, a pristine glowing miniature version of the pillar outside. The chamber was empty for hundreds of meters to the rooftops of the buildings below. A Lian neighborhood spread out below them. Citizens went about their preparations for the storm, bathed in yellow coreshine.
Yajain’s arm locked into her embrace with Mosam.
Storm Fleet Page 18