Crossways

by Jacey Bedford

  “Dead?”

  “Cara had to bust Nan and Ricky out of Crowder’s holding cell. There’s no way Crowder’s going to forgive and forget. Call Kai. I need him at the hospital in Arkhad City visiting a burn patient called Fowler. Tell him to keep his head down.”

  “I . . . I already told him that when Nan and Ricky went missing. They’re really safe?”

  “I promise you.”

  Rion’s shoulders sagged.

  They walked together to the house in the deepening gloom. Ben usually came here between missions. It was his safe haven. Even though he only used it once every couple of years his room was still his, with all the reminders of his childhood, his art portfolio and several sets of half-used, dried-up paints, a wooden spaceship that had once belonged to his father, and hard copy images of his parents, the same as the ones he carried in holographic form on his handpad.

  The house was pure Chenon frontier, a circular pit house, like a four-story bagel set into bedrock with an open central atrium. Kitchen and living space were on the upper level, with a horizontal row of slit windows to the outside up close to the ceiling where someone standing on a stepladder could peep out beneath the eaves and see out at ground level. Bedrooms and storerooms occupied the lower three levels. They grew tomatoes, peppers, grapes, and soft fruit in the atrium. It collected heat in winter and cooled the house down in summer.

  The only part of the house substantially above ground level was the entrance and the thatched roof sloping from center to edge of the outer ring. When Ben was a boy the central atrium had been roofed over with a plasglass dome, but that was long gone and now it was open to the weather. A shallow sunken pool collected rainwater.

  He’d brought Cara here once, to visit Nan, back when he thought his main problem was going to be the upcoming mission to Olyanda with a bunch of fundy settlers. Rion had been away, which probably added to the pleasant memories he had of Nan and Cara laughing together over the kitchen table. Rion had always been curmudgeonly about Ben’s girlfriends, and he’d never liked Serena, Ben’s college sweetheart and later his wife. Their relationship hadn’t been strong enough to survive Ben’s few years in the Monitors, so perhaps Rion had had some insight that Ben lacked. He wondered what Rion would make of Cara, or, indeed, what Cara would make of Rion.

  He came up from his room with the wooden spaceship.

  Rion eyed it. “You’re not intending to come back, then.”

  “I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

  “Taking the spaceship . . . it seems so final.” Rion turned away and gazed through the curved glass down at the forest of grapes and tomatoes. “I can’t leave here, Ben. I’m too much of a fixture, too old to change. Not cut out for space travel. Take Nan and the boys somewhere safe. I’ll wait it out here.”

  “No, if you do I’ll only have to come back and rescue you from Crowder.”

  “You needn’t bother.”

  “Rion, you’re my brother. Why wouldn’t I bother?”

  Rion just shrugged.

  “Make the calls, pack your things and Ricky’s. I’ll throw some of Nan’s clothes into a bag. Hurry.”

  Ben headed for the stairs, then realized Rion hadn’t moved. He stopped, hand on the banister. “Come on, man. You know it makes sense.”

  “Not going anywhere.”

  Ben sighed. He was going to have to do this the hard way. He crossed the living room into the kitchen area and reached into the cupboard for two mugs.

  “Nan thinks tea solves the problems of the universe,” Rion said, following him to the door and leaning on the frame. “You can’t change my mind with tea.”

  “I’m not trying to. Sit and drink it anyway. How long is it since we’ve sat down together?”

  Rion shrugged. “A year? Two?”

  “Try three. Three for you, anyway. Two for me, subjectively.”

  Ben held the pot under the spigot. Nan always insisted on proper tea, brewed in a prewarmed pot.

  “Cryo has torn this family apart,” Rion said.

  It wasn’t just Ben’s cryo trips he was talking about.

  “Our parents are long gone,” Ben said. He let the water heat up the ceramic and tipped it down the drain. He shoveled three heaped teaspoons of leaves in, set the spigot temperature to boiling and half-filled the pot.

  “You never cared like I did.”

  “Don’t fool yourself. I was younger. Maybe I bounced back faster. I haven’t forgotten. Every time I fly the Folds I wonder if their ship is still out there, a hulk full of dried-out husks.”

  “Cassandra. Their ship was called the Cassandra.”

  “I know.” Ben looked at the wooden spaceship he’d set on the kitchen counter. It had never had a name, but he’d named it in secret, his childhood self imagining his parents inside it. Sleeping into eternity. Safe and untroubled.

  “Tea for two.” He placed the pot on the table and put two mugs next to it. “Sit, Rion.”

  “Have you got time for this? Shouldn’t you be going?”

  Ben found milk in the cooler, poured a splash into his own mug and offered the jug to Rion. Then he sat down and waited.

  “Sit, Rion. I’ve got time. It may be the last time if you’re so stubborn you’re going to risk your life here just because you’re afraid of the Folds.”

  “That’s not why—”

  “Bunty Jaeger’s boys are more than capable of looking after the farm. It’ll still be here. You can come back when we resolve this.”

  “You think there’s a resolution?” Rion walked over to the table and poured a few drops of milk into the second mug and held it out for Ben to pour tea into. He sat, cupped his hands around the mug and breathed in the steam.

  “I hope so. I have information that will discredit Crowder completely, I’d have gone public with it sooner, but I wanted to make sure the settlers were safe first. Then I heard Crowder had Nan. Once all my family is safe—and that includes you—Crowder is toast. Then you can have your life back.”

  “The Folds . . .” Rion took a sip of his tea. “I don’t think I can.”

  “I’ll not pretend foldspace isn’t dangerous, but statistically—”

  “Are our parents only a statistic to you now?”

  Ben wanted to say, I was almost a statistic, but Rion didn’t need to hear that. “We’ve got a medic on board. You can have a sedative if you wish. A lot of first-timers do. There’s no shame in it.” He took a deep breath. I might even be joining you, he thought.

  “There’s got to be an alternative . . .” Rion’s speech slurred. He frowned at his mug and looked up at Ben. “You didn’t . . .”

  “I’m afraid I did.”

  Ben took the scalding mug out of Rion’s hands as he collapsed slowly forward onto the table. *Okay, you can come and get him now,* he said. *I had to use the goodnight drops.*

  *On our way, Boss,* Yan replied. *One antigrav gurney and two packers coming up.*

  *All set?* Cara reached for Ben across Chenon. His newly achieved Psi-4 rating wasn’t strong enough for him to contact her from halfway around the planet.

  *Rendezvous at Norro in thirty minutes,* Ben said. *I had to knock Rion out to get him on board, and we’ve got Jussaro curled up in a cabin mewling to himself, but apart from that we’re okay.*

  He flashed the whole Jussaro story to her in an instant. There was something else he wasn’t telling her, but Cara didn’t pry.

  *Is there a plan?* Cara asked.

  *Yeah, improvise.*

  “That’s Norro ahead,” Hilde said over her shoulder. “Should I put down on the beach?”

  “Overfly it a couple of times so we can take a look,” Cara said. *We’re ahead of you,* she told Ben. *Just checking it out. There’s a village on the south side, plenty of lights, fishing boats in the harbor, and a couple of larger craft anchored off the bay.*
/>   *Tourist yachts most likely. Good beaches at the west end, sheer cliffs north and east. Commercial landing pad center-island and a private one at Northcliffe, that’s where the ex-Mrs. Crowder lives when she’s not attending functions. I never met her. Crowder used to keep all his family well away from his work, but I do know their split was not amicable. There was a lot of very unpleasant fallout.*

  *There’s a Trust flyer on the landing pad at Northcliffe.*

  *Size?*

  *Not a huge one, maybe capacity for ten or twelve. It’s guarded. Two heat signatures. More in the house. Twelve or fifteen people.*

  *Have they spotted you?*

  *We flew over at about a hundred meters. Yes, they spotted us, but we’re in a rental flyer. Hopefully we look like tourists.*

  *Land on the commercial pad. Pay the landing tax. Take a walk with Bronsen, see if he can confirm whether it’s Crowder there. Don’t act suspicious.*

  *Suspicious? Us? Wouldn’t dream of it. What about you?*

  *Water landing.*

  Ben brought Solar Wind across the last fifty klicks of the Calman Sea submerged. Rion slept like a baby in Ben’s own cabin and Jussaro, having refused a sedative, was curled up further down the corridor, alone with his misery.

  Cara had confirmed that Bronsen had Found Crowder located somewhere within the complex at the north end of the island. Now that they were so close Ben was able to contact her directly rather than having to wait for her to contact him—still a joy to him. He’d even been able to have a conversation with Nan, recovering spiritually from her confinement, if her anger was anything to go by, but still weak-muscled after a month of sedation. Ricky, Nan said, was bouncing off the walls of the light flyer, confined to an even smaller space than their cell, and sharing it with Tengue and Gwala, keeping out of sight so as not to arouse suspicion. Tengue and Gwala, having been in this kind of situation before, took their confinement philosophically, and sat back, talking quietly, playing games on their handpad or reading. Neither of them connected into the planetary network, of course, since they needed to stay invisible.

  Ben had a package for the planetary network: the vid of his confrontation with Crowder, and Crowder’s admission of guilt for the attacks on Hera-3 and Olyanda.

  Olyanda had backfired on the Trust spectacularly.

  Once Ben had extracted the whereabouts of the missing settlers from Crowder he’d happily throw him, and the Trust, and possibly Alphacorp as well, to the wolves, and let the combined might of the press and the law deal with them all. He’d even be willing to return to answer for Ari van Blaiden’s death if he had to. He hadn’t told Cara that part yet. He knew what her reaction would be. As for the Free Company, they’d manage without him.

  “Everyone clear about what’s going to happen?” Cara asked out loud for Ricky’s benefit. They were crammed into the cargo space behind the flyer’s seats, down and safe in the area of the airport reserved for private flyers.

  “Clear.” Tengue, Gwala, Hilde, Archie, Bronsen, and Ronan all responded quickly and concisely.

  “As long as I get a chance at Crowder once you’ve got him,” Nan said. She still clutched the bolt rifle that she’d taken from Minnow.

  “You planning on using that?” Tengue nodded toward the weapon. “Because if you are, would you give us all fair warning, please?”

  Nan sighed. “I don’t need a bolt gun to blister Crowder’s ears off.”

  “I bet you don’t, lady,” Gwala said.

  “Nan, why can’t I go, too?” Ricky put his hand on Nan’s sleeve. “I knocked Minnow out.”

  “You did,” Cara said. “You did absolutely the best thing you could have done. You kept your head and you used your brains. What you did was very smart. Without you I doubt we could have gotten in and out without someone getting hurt. Ben will be so proud of you. Do you know what the best thing you did was?”

  “Figuring out how to use the skin gel as a barrier on Nan’s neck?”

  “That was clever, but it wasn’t the best thing.”

  “Switching the used blast pack for a fully charged one?”

  She shook her head. “Same again, clever but not the best thing.”

  “Knocking Minnow out?”

  “Uh, no. That was courageous, though.”

  “What then?”

  “When we blew the ceiling you insisted we protect Minnow as well. He was your enemy, but you treated him with respect and human kindness. That was the best thing. It shows that you know how to fight when you need to, but you don’t let people get hurt if you can help it. You’re more like your Uncle Ben than you know.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “But you’ve got to understand that if you come with us it will be dangerous and you’re not fully grown yet. So someone would have to look after you instead of looking after themselves, and that’s when people get hurt under fire. And you know that you don’t let people get hurt if you can possibly help it. Understand?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, got it. Stay with Nan and Ronan on the perimeter.”

  “Yeah, buddy. I’m missing all the fun, too,” Ronan said. “Not that I’m complaining.”

  Nan looked sideways at Cara and winked. *Are you sure you were never a negotiator?*

  *Sure.*

  *Cara, you all ready?* Ben made contact.

  *Abandoning the flyer now,* she said. *We’ll be up-island in an hour. Rendezvous as planned.* “All right,” Cara turned to the rest of them. “Me, Hilde, Archie, and Bronsen first, making a loud noise through the main gate. The rest of you, quietly and quickly as we take all the port master’s attention. Ricky, stick with Gwala until you get to the perimeter. All right with the antigrav legs, Nan?”

  “Oh, I’ll just bump along behind Ronan like a half-deflated balloon. Don’t worry.” She slapped Ronan’s upper arm. “We’ll be fine.”

  “Who’s got my buddysuit?” Hilde asked.

  “It’s in my pack,” Gwala replied. “Don’t worry, you won’t have to scale any walls in your high heels.”

  Cara slipped on Hilde’s brightest, most outrageous coat, a swinging swirl of lemon and crimson. It covered her from chin to midcalf. “I feel a bit ostentatious in this.”

  “You look wonderful, dahling!” Hilde put on the voice to go with the high heels, white sheath dress, and gauzy wrap that fairly sparkled in the daytime lights.

  Archie and Bronsen wore the same green flight suits that they’d worn to come through immigration, lightweight coverings to disguise the buddysuit beneath.

  “Let’s go give them a show,” Cara said.

  “Walk this way.” Hilde sashayed out in front of them, hips swaying, heels clacking on the floor.

  “If I could walk that way . . .” Archie left the old joke hanging as they followed her out into the morning darkness.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  GETAWAY

  BEN STUDIED THE CLIFFS. THEY COULD BE climbed, though his lungs weren’t completely healed yet, and with his wrist still in the case he’d make heavy weather of it. Better to make an entrance and cause a distraction, let Cara’s crew slide in over the perimeter wall. He wasn’t going to put Gen in danger, though she wouldn’t thank him for coddling her. Max was about as much use as a sugar teapot and Kitty had already admitted to being no use in a scrap, but he could use them behind a screen with smart-dart rifles to protect the entrance and draw fire. He only had Yan and Toni Horta, the taciturn merc, and he needed Horta on tactical. Just him and Yan as a landing party, then.

  But he did have a very neat spaceship.

  *Everyone in place?* he asked from the ladder in the upper hatch.

  He got a chorus of affirmatives.

  *Here we go.* He gave Gen a mental nod.

  She raised Solar Wind from the ocean like a leviathan, perfectly level. Nose to the cliff face, she rose up an
d loomed over the cliff edge. A shudder through the body of the ship announced Horta letting loose with the pulse-cannon.

  *Yes!* Horta’s triumphant affirmative was the nearest Ben had ever heard her come to joy. *Crowder’s flyer, destroyed.*

  A second shudder, smaller this time, signaled that she’d blown out part of the perimeter wall.

  Gen planted Solar Wind firmly on the landing pad and the main hatch lowered. Max and Kitty, armed with smart-dart rifles, were lying flat in the hatch behind one of the portable body shields, the muzzles of their rifles poking through. It didn’t matter how accurate they were, the object of the exercise was to draw as many of Crowder’s people from the house as possible. If any of them looked close to boarding Solar Wind, Horta would lay down lethal fire, but until then, smart-darts would be enough. One dart would knock a man out. Two would probably not be lethal unless there was some underlying medical condition. Three would be fatal. Each dart was movement- and heat-seeking, so even if Kitty and Max were the worst shots in the world, the darts should find their marks in mobile, warm bodies. With luck, they should be able to knock out two or three in the first rush. After that it might be a standoff.

  Ben heard pings as bolts ricocheted from Solar Wind’s skin, but they were no more than gnat bites on her armor. He opened the upper hatch and slithered over to the far side, followed by Yan. By grabbing the handholds designed for use in space, they slithered down the hull, along the wing, now fully extended for atmospheric flight, and dropped down close to the cliff edge under cover of darkness.

  *We’re in,* Cara said from the opposite side of the compound.

  Ben and Yan circumnavigated the firefight going on at Solar Wind’s hatch. There were four bodies on the ground.

  *Good shooting, guys,* Ben said.

  *It’s Kitty, not me,* Max responded. *Even with the heat-seeker things I’ve not hit one. Kitty’s a whiz.*

  *Keep it up. Pin down as many as you can. I’m counting at least another four still throwing bolts in your direction. If your shields show low power get back inside and dog the hatch. Don’t take any chances.*