by C. G. Hatton
As they left the alcove, LC walked backwards for a few steps. The walkway was empty but something didn’t feel right. He stopped and edged against the bulkhead, motioning Thom to do the same. He stared at the access stairs where a tangle of pipes were hissing steam. A shadow moved where it shouldn’t have done. Metal glinted in the light of the stairway lamp.
He cursed silently and lifted his pistol, aiming towards the stairs. He was greeted by a hollow metallic clatter and saw a small object tumbling towards them. He blinked, then yelled, shoving Thom off to one side, trying to get down himself as the blast threw him into the wall.
He almost laughed as sparks of sheer agony flared behind his eyes and his cheek and left arm crunched into the cold metal of the bulkhead. He staggered around.
It was a strange feeling to be looking down the wrong end of a gun barrel through the effects of a concussion blast and he couldn’t focus, either on the end of the barrel aimed at him or the figure standing half in shadow behind it.
So this was it after all. He began to lift his hands in grudging surrender and flinched back, his knees almost buckling as a shot resounded in the narrow space. The gun and its owner dropped. LC took a step back, swaying, blotting blood from his cheek with the back of his hand, waiting for the second shot, not quite trusting that this was a reprieve.
The corridor remained quiet, his guardian angel anonymous.
LC stumbled backwards and stooped quickly to help the kid to his feet.
Thom was closer on his heels this time as they ran on towards the docks.
He was running out of places to hide. There were too many armed unknowns milling about the orbital to relax and tensions were higher than he’d ever seen before. Coming to Sten’s World had seemed a good idea at the time but if he was honest, he hadn’t had much choice. After Palmio, this was about it. And from here, there was nowhere else except the scuzz bucket mining colonies and not exactly where he’d planned to retire once the gig at the guild was up. He’d always known life at the guild was too good to be true, and the Alsatia had never quite felt like home. Even so, he hadn’t expected it to end so suddenly and in such a crap way.
LC stopped running once they reached the main concourse to the docks, the tell-tale cramp starting in the small of his back as the adrenaline wore off. By the time they could see the security barriers, the shakes were starting to set in and the bone-deep ache that had become all too familiar in the last few weeks was sending its spikes of pain through his joints. Security at the barriers was never high on Sten’s World but after the run-in with the bounty hunters, he was still on edge and he held his breath as they were asked to show ID. They were given a curt nod and pushed their way through.
They walked through the docks and it was hard not to panic, feeling the stiffness in his limbs spread and the buzzing in his head increase as they encountered more people.
“Thom, relax would you?” he said quietly, irritated that the kid was looking back over his shoulder constantly, twitchy as hell. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to start attracting attention they didn’t need.
“I can’t believe that guy was going to shoot us,” Thom whispered.
LC bit his tongue. Shoot you, he thought. He was fairly sure the bounty on his head was higher if he was alive. But he’d just met the kid so there was no need to spook him out even more. He shook his head instead and rubbed his eyes.
The ship was berthed at the freighter terminal. It was a relief to make it to the airlock. He leaned a hand against the bulkhead, feeling the chill of the hull suck away some of his rising temperature, and tried to keep his breathing shallow to ease the pain.
Thom frowned at him. “You don’t look too good, Luka.”
“I’m fine.”
“No, really, you look like crap. You want me to get help?”
“I want you to get the door open.”
The pressure in his head spiked and LC squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the top of his nose. He needed to get somewhere dark, quickly, or he would pass out right here in the docks and any freaking bounty hunter passing by would be welcome to haul his butt in for whatever price he was worth these days. Twenty six million, he’d been told. Twenty six each for him and Hilyer. It was hard to believe. Never before had a guild operative had a price put on their head, now two of them had been targeted. And for a job they’d had no choice but to take.
Just thinking of it made him feel queasy.
The airlock opened.
LC let Thom lead the way, glad to hear the door cycle shut behind them. It wasn’t ideal but this freighter was the quickest way out of here and signing on as crew had been his only option. Just to keep one step ahead until he could figure out what to do.
The freighter was supposed to be shipping out that night. It was the only independent vessel due to leave for the mining colonies within the next three days and he couldn’t afford to risk hanging around any longer. The station at Sten’s World was a shit-hole at the best of times and right now it was getting way too hot. It wasn’t easy to stay anonymous when everyone knew everyone and gossip travelled faster than light. He knew he’d been careless. Two bounty hunters had already tracked him down and he knew there were others.
He’d come here because of Olivia and he knew now that might have been a mistake. It left a cold spot inside to think he wouldn’t be coming back.
The owner of the freighter had promised him they were booked to take on cargo and go, no messing, and the guy had seemed as eager as him to get away. No questions asked and not an ounce of curiosity about his background. LC just needed to get on board, wait out the shakes and get the hell out of here.
“Hey Luka.”
He stopped at the door of his cabin; a few steps from sanctuary and a yell stopped him short. He turned slowly, and forced a smile. He’d only met the pilot of this rust bucket once and that had been enough.
“Gallagher wants you dockside, buddy,” DiMarco said with a smirk. “You’d better get your ass back out there.”
He wasn’t used to taking orders and it took a measure of control not to tell the son of a bitch to go screw himself, but he needed the ride out of here and this was Gallagher’s ship. And to give him credit, Gallagher had come across as a decent guy – one with terrible judgement in picking crew, but decent in the same way that Mendhel had always been with them. For a guild handler, Mendhel was always too patient for his own good, handling all his field operatives with infinite humour and stubborn protectiveness and a decency that had got him killed. A cold knot formed in LC’s stomach at the thought and he blinked at DiMarco through a headache that was threatening to overpower him.
“Where?” he said softly.
DiMarco grinned as if he’d won a round. “Dockside administrator’s office. Something’s come up. We’ve been delayed.”
The painkillers he’d grabbed hadn’t worked and when he finally found the office, he knew he was looking flaky as hell. He had a vial in his pocket that would get him arrested if he was stopped and searched, but he was reluctant to use it until he knew what was going on. He’d left nothing on the ship that he would miss if he had to run. His possessions were pretty much down to what he was wearing and the only money he had left was on an unregistered credit stick hidden in his boot. He had no idea where he’d go but he was not going to get caught here, not after everything he’d been through.
He tried to clear his head as he approached the admin area. It was noisy, a lot of people and a background clutter of indistinct voices and muttered words. As far as he could see, the only guards hanging around were the same ones as earlier, making routine checks, nothing out of the ordinary and no one taking any undue interest in him. He stuck his hands in his pockets and strolled casually, feeling the weight of the gun tucked into the small of his back and hoping he wouldn’t need to use it.
Gallagher was in the waiting area of the admin office, pacing up and down and tapping impatiently at his leg with a data board. LC paused at the door, watching and trying to gauge
whether the guy had sold him out. There were no guards in there and no one flashing the silver badge of a bounty hunter. Gallagher looked up at the sound of the door opening and waved him over. He looked stressed.
LC walked in, the headache peaking to a new level.
Gallagher welcomed him with a pat on the shoulder and steered him towards a desk where a tired-looking clerk was shuffling data boards.
“I’m not in the mood, Gallagher,” the guy warned without looking up.
Gallagher sat, gesturing LC to take a seat beside him, and placed the board on the desk. “This is the guy I was telling you about,” he said. “Luka Cole. I’ve known him for two years. He’ll vouch for me. Right, Luka?”
The clerk looked up suspiciously and stared from Gallagher to him and back. LC tried to sit up straight.
“ID?” the guy said finally and held out a hand.
Oh god. LC calmly took out his documents and passed them across. It was his last set and it was hard not to jump up and run out. He kept his breathing slow and even, heart rate steadying with the effort despite Gallagher’s nervous energy spilling over next to him.
The clerk ran the papers through the system for what seemed like an eternity. No alarms went off, no guards came running. He looked up. “You’ve known him for two years?”
LC looked from the clerk to Gallagher, not sure who the question was aimed at, and nodded when the clerk pushed back the documents and asked the question again, this time directly to him.
“Gallagher,” the clerk said, taking up the board, “I swear if this gets back to my supervisor, I’m dead meat. You’re crazy going out with this guy, you know that?”
Again, that last was directed at him so LC smiled. “We go way back,” he said simply, playing along with whatever it was that Gallagher was pulling. He could feel Gallagher wind down a notch as he said it.
The clerk shook his head. “You’re all mad.” He scribbled on the board and held it out. “Sign here.”
LC dutifully signed, careful to match the name on the documents, not caring a damn what he was signing or why. He pushed the board back across the desk.
“You’re cleared for Harbin 7,” the clerk said to Gallagher, “but that’s all I can manage.”
“But,” Gallagher protested.
“No buts, Bill. I’m pushing it getting that for you. You have the ship and you have a run to Harbin.”
Gallagher leaned forward. “Come on, I know there are runs out to Erica,” he said, trying to hide an edge of desperation in his voice.
The clerk leaned onto the desk himself so that they were nose to nose, and he whispered so quietly that LC could hardly hear what he was saying. “I know your psych report is fake, Bill. No one here in their right mind would let you take a crew back out there but I’ve known you a long time, and if Mr Cole here has known you that long and is happy to take his chances with you, then I’ll let it go. Take the run to Harbin, come back safely and we’ll see what we can do from there.”
Gallagher sagged and the clerk pushed back from the desk. “Good luck, Gallagher,” he said. “I really mean it. There are a lot of people here who feel for you. No one would ever wish what happened to you on anyone. But take it easy, yeah?”
Gallagher picked up the board and stood. LC followed, leaning on the back of the chair for a moment to catch his balance. He didn’t care what this guy had going on or whatever the hell it was that everyone was so sorry for, he just wanted to get away and right now, get back to the ship and crawl into a dark space.
Gallagher shook the clerk’s hand. “I appreciate it, bud,” he said and walked away.
The clerk caught LC’s eye. “Look out for yourself. He’s not ready.”
“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” LC muttered and turned to go.
The clerk laughed behind his back. “Yeah, well, watch out for those little green men.”
Gallagher was waiting for him outside. “Cheers for that, Luka. Come on, I have to go meet our new navigator.”
LC hesitated. He was fairly sure that Gallagher wasn’t going to sell him out, but there were too many people around and it was too much of a risk to stay out here. And his head was still pounding.
“What’s up,” Gallagher said, and peered close. “You don’t look well. You’re not sick, are you?”
Shit. The man would be well within his rights to change his mind if he decided he didn’t want some unknown onboard with an illness that could spread through his crew.
LC shook his head. “I’m fine,” he said, knowing full well that he didn’t look fine. He was too hot and he could feel a flush in his cheeks.
Gallagher didn’t look convinced.
“I swear, I’m fine. Why do we have a new navigator? What happened to the guy I met yesterday?”
“He called in. Told me he fell down a staircase and broke his damned leg. And people say I’m unlucky. But I’ve got a replacement and we should be clear to leave as soon as we get the cargo loaded. God, it’ll be good to get out of here. I don’t know what the hell you’re running from, Luka, but I’ve had enough of Sten’s World to last me a lifetime.” Gallagher smiled at him, a small rueful smile from one conspirator to another. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to ask. It’s your business. Just keep my engines running.”
LC glanced around. The docks were getting busier. More ships must have come in and for a small station, there were a lot of people suddenly milling around, too many people who could be looking his way. He knew he’d been making mistake after mistake since he’d left Hil after it had all gone to shit at the lab. He was hoping like hell that this wasn’t another one.
“I should get back to the ship,” he said.
“We should both get back to the ship, but one beer won’t hurt. One for the road, right?” Gallagher slapped him on the back. “Come on, let’s go meet Sean. I think you’ll like her.”
Chapter 2
NG sat quietly, breathing in the vapour from the wine in front of him, feeling it extend insidious swirling tendrils deep inside.
It was difficult to sit there, knowing everything he did about the situation unfolding outside, knowing how many loose ends were still unravelling.
The light from a single flickering candle cast an oasis of orange, shadows dancing on the Man’s face, his expression completely unfathomable. It was stiflingly hot in there, environmental control set high with a depth of humidity that made NG glad he’d ditched layers before coming in. A bead of sweat ran down his back.
The situation was more dangerous and more momentous than anyone could have realised.
He took a sip of the wine, waiting for the next line of questioning, seeing it go one of two ways. The potential here for immense progression was almost unimaginable; the possibility of outright disaster could mean instability across human occupied space that the guild couldn’t begin to control, could possibly never even attempt to amend.
He set the goblet on the desk and waited.
The Man looked up, eyes sparkling. “Never, ever despair, NG. We thrive on the very essence of chaos and all its auspices. Embrace the turbulence for it is that which gives us the unparalleled opportunities with which we play.” He leaned forward, considering the chessboard for a moment. The board was set with white in front of NG.
“Tell me more about Luka,” the Man said, reaching for the wine. “From the beginning. Why did your young prodigy run? And tell me, NG, how did he manage to elude us?”
•
Walking into Danny’s Bar, LC felt like he could have been transported half way across the galaxy. He was half expecting to see Polly behind the bar and her pet enforcer Tavner watching from the door. There was already a heated argument in full flow at one end of the room and raucous laughter from the other. He followed Gallagher through the crowd of bodies to the bar, scanning the room with well practised ease.
Gallagher pushed his way in and made room for both of them, catching the attention of the barman with a wave. Two beers and two whisky chasers appeared. It seemed
to LC like a lifetime since he’d had a beer and the bottle was cold and very welcome. The buzzing in his head had peaked into a din that was making his eyes hurt, but it was blending in with the background noise of music and chattering voices all around. He could just about shut it all out and enjoy the beer and it was tempting to wonder if he could drown it out completely with enough alcohol.
Gallagher nudged his arm to get his attention and clinked the shot glass. LC smiled vaguely and downed the whisky in one, feeling the heat of the liquor as it slipped down his throat. It was good quality, far better than a place like this should stock.
“Danny keeps the best stuff for us old-timers,” Gallagher said loudly in his ear, as if he’d read his mind.
They pushed the empty shot glasses away and an older guy pushed his way past the staff behind the bar, grinning at Gallagher and sticking out his hand in welcome.
Gallagher shook his hand and patted LC on the shoulder. “Danny, this is Luka, my new chief engineer.”
Danny nodded in acknowledgement. “I heard you got the Duck,” he said to Gallagher, refilling the two glasses and adding a third.
Gallagher picked up the whisky. “She’s old but solid. No AI so I’ve had to hire me a pilot and a navigator, can you believe it? But I’ve got a good feeling about it. We’ve got a run to Harbin. I’ll find a way to get out to Erica from there. We leave in the morning.”
They clinked glasses and LC picked up his too, joining in, trying to follow the conversation while he watched the mirror behind the bar, tracking the flow of people as they crowded in and then moved away again with their drinks. The back of his neck was tingling and he edged round slightly so that his back wasn’t entirely exposed to the room behind.
“You’re mad,” Danny was saying to Gallagher, almost shouting over the noise.
“I know. That’s what they said!” and they both laughed.