Ghost Planet

by Sharon Lynn Fisher

  “Where’s Murphy?” I asked.

  “Galley. He’s not gonna be happy.”

  “I know. Wish me luck.”

  He gave me a half-smile and a nod, and I headed for the galley. Warm and likable, Gavin had become one of my favorites among the original Devil’s Rock clan. Murphy and I still relied on him for information about Blake’s dealings with the outside world.

  The door to the galley slid open and I walked in. My stomach knotted as my eyes sought Murphy. He stood near the bar with his back to the door.

  Peter stood next to him, facing me. “Ah, Christ, Rose.” He shook his head angrily.

  Murphy didn’t turn. He leaned on the bar, dropping his head in his hands.

  “Hey, Elizabeth,” Ian said quietly, not looking surprised to see me. He’d tried to persuade Julia to stay in camp as well, but she refused flat-out. She’d never gotten over her guilt about Mitchell getting her hands on us, and she had insisted they needed a doctor in case someone got shot. The camp’s seventy-year-old surgeon had stayed behind.

  Sarah took hold of Ian’s arm and steered him toward the door. “You too, Pete,” she called. “Let’s go.”

  Peter looked inclined to scold me, but he followed the others out, grumbling, “Should have fucking known. You don’t ever tell her she can’t do something. Hopped in a taxi and left me in front of the Eiffel Tower once. Took me two days to find her.”

  “Thanks for the warning, brother,” Murphy muttered.

  “Hey, I don’t owe you shit. And I’m not your brother.” Peter’s face softened as he passed me, and he said, “You call me if it gets ugly, okay?”

  “He’s not you, Peter.”

  “Oh, nice.”

  The door closed behind them and Murphy turned to face me, sinking down on one of the barstools. I took in his expression of wounded disbelief and felt queasy with guilt.

  “Here I was touched that you refused to see me off. Couldn’t bear to say goodbye to me, you said.”

  I moved closer. “That’s exactly why I’m here.”

  “How could you do this?” he demanded. “You know how I feel. If anything happens to you I’ll never forgive myself.”

  I was afraid to touch him, but I reached for his hands anyway. He eyed me darkly.

  “We’re partners, Murphy. We’ve done everything together up to now. You may need me. God knows I can’t stand to sit waiting to hear if you’re alive or dead.” I remembered something Yasmina had said last time we were on this transport. “You’re my heart, Murphy. If you didn’t come back to me I’d die. Don’t you know that?”

  His expression refused to crack, even at this. But he let his knees slip apart so I could press closer. Sighing, he bent and touched his forehead to mine.

  “Don’t be angry with me,” I breathed. “Not now.”

  “I suppose I should have known.”

  Relief made it hard not to smile. “You really should have.”

  “Next time, I leave you tied to something.”

  “Mmm, I don’t know about the leaving part, but the tying I could be talked into…”

  Murphy wrapped his arms and legs around me. “Now just look how you’re distracting me. You see why this was a bad idea?”

  I brushed my lips against his, then ran my tongue along them until they parted. He squeezed me against him.

  We were still occupied in this way when the transport began its descent. Murphy’s hands were inside my shirt, caressing my back, and he slipped one out to tug at his pants.

  “I don’t think there’s time for that,” I laughed.

  “There’s time.”

  “But shouldn’t we—hey, what are you doing?”

  Murphy grabbed my hand, and I felt something rigid tighten over my wrist. He scooted me aside and hopped down. By the time I figured out what he was up to, I found myself locked around one leg of the barstool by a set of nylon restraints. I kicked at the stool, but it was bolted to the deck.

  “Not funny, Murphy.”

  He wasn’t laughing. He took my face in his hands and leaned close again. “I’m sorry, love, but I have to go. I’ll see you soon.” He gave me a final, hard kiss and I twisted away from him.

  “Goddamn it!” I cried. “I won’t forgive you for this!”

  He paused in the doorway, giving me a mournful smile, and then he left.

  “Murphy!”

  As the transport set down I worked to free my hands. I could hear the excited chatter of the group in the hold. Suddenly the cockpit door opened and Garvey came into the galley.

  “Garvey, come and help me!”

  His eyes traveled from my face to my wrists. “I thought he was leaving you back at the ranch.”

  “Change in plans. Please come get me out of these things.”

  He continued to eye me as he ambled toward the hold door. “Yas has signed up for this insanity, and it’s the first time she’s ever gone off without me. I like her chances of making it back much better without you along stirring up cock fights between Butch and Sundance.”

  My mouth dropped open. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “You know damn well what it means.” I did, but it was profoundly unfair. I’d been nothing but honest with Peter since his arrival. I couldn’t be blamed for his refusal to give up.

  Garvey passed into the hold, and I shouted Murphy’s name one last time.

  Nemesis

  I spent five minutes trying to rock the barstool loose before I noticed there was a lower rail that rendered this effort pointless. And even if I did manage to free myself from the stool, my hands would still be bound.

  Moistening the base of one hand with my tongue, I started tugging. My hand quickly bloodied, and the harder I worked at it, the tighter the restraint seemed to close, so I switched back to rocking.

  Gradually the stool began to creak and give, and I rocked harder. The bolt gave up with a metallic pop. I carried the stool to the other side of the bar and dug through drawers until I found a knife.

  With some careful sawing at one of the nylon loops, I was soon free. Tossing the barstool aside, I glanced at my watch. Murphy and the others had been gone about forty-five minutes.

  I knew we had landed a few kilometers away from our destination. Sarah had told us there were no more than a dozen security guards at this smaller facility, and they weren’t as heavily armed as our group. But everyone had agreed that the best way to prevent any open conflict was to take Mitchell by surprise. After our group overpowered security and accomplished their objectives, the plan was to call Garvey to pick them up.

  I had worked to free myself with the intention of following them down, but now I realized I didn’t even know which direction to go. I was headed for the cockpit to coax it out of Garvey when the door to the hold opened and Peter staggered in, dropping his hands to his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

  “Peter! Where’s Murphy?”

  He glanced up and I saw a gash across his forehead. “It was a trap,” he choked out.

  “What?” I stumbled toward him.

  “Security was waiting for us, more than twice the number we expected.”

  “Is Murphy okay?” Ian? Julia? Gavin? Almost all the people I loved were down there. “Did they hurt anyone?”

  “Don’t know for sure. I didn’t hear any gunfire after the first two or three shots. I was at the back, screwing around with my camera. When I figured out what was happening I ran like hell.”

  The first two or three shots? “Oh Jesus.” Raising my hand to my head, I tried to think. “What do we do?”

  “We can’t do anything on our own. We have to go back for help.”

  I stared at him, shaking my head. “I’m not leaving him.”

  “Rose—”

  Garvey, hearing our voices from the cockpit, came into the galley demanding to know what was going on. Peter repeated his story and told him to fire up the transport.

  “We’re not leaving Yas in there.” Garvey headed for the hold a
nd I followed, Peter trailing behind us.

  “We’re not abandoning them!” replied Peter, exasperated. “You’re not listening to me. The three of us can’t do it.”

  Garvey grabbed a rifle out of the weapons crate. “Wait,” I said, laying a hand on his arm. “You have to stay with the ship so we can be ready to go. I’ll go down.”

  “The hell you will, Rose.”

  “Peter, if this was a trap, it was me they wanted. I’m going to give myself up.”

  “And what? Negotiate for their release? Think for a second. They’ll just throw you in with them.”

  “Probably so, but inside I can make sure Murphy and the others are okay.”

  “It’s a ridiculous plan. It’s not a plan at all.”

  I glared at him. “I’m not asking your permission. If you’ll shut up a minute, I’ve got an idea. Did you get any footage?”

  “I didn’t get shit.”

  “Have you got a small camera? Something I can hide and take in with me?”

  Peter glanced at his gear bag, resting on the floor at the end of the bar. “I have a pair of sunglasses with a camera in the arm, but that’s no good. You’d need a bug. Audio only, but it’s tiny—we can easily hide it.”

  “Could you record the audio on your end?”

  “Yeah, but it won’t hold up as evidence. Too easy to tamper with.”

  “But maybe enough to persuade someone to investigate?”

  “Sure.”

  “Okay, here’s my plan. I’ll give myself up and ask to see Mitchell. She enjoys goading me, so it shouldn’t be a problem. You record what she says, and when you have enough to incriminate her, get back to the ship, contact the news services, and go public with everything. Then get to the governor’s office in New Dublin and make yourself a pain in her ass until she sends Ardagh 1 security to help us.”

  Peter frowned. “It’s dangerous. What if they hurt you before I can get you out?”

  “Mitchell went to a lot of trouble—and considerable risk—to get me pregnant. She’s not going to hurt me before that’s finished.”

  “What about Yas and the others?” asked Garvey.

  “I don’t know why she would hurt them—it doesn’t make sense. But she might pack them off to this agricultural colony. The two of you need to get back as fast as you can.”

  “I’m not going to have time to make a convert out of Governor Chen,” Peter persisted. “What if she doesn’t care what Mitchell’s doing with ghosts?”

  “Then focus on what she’s done to Murphy and the other colonists. If you can’t get anywhere with her, see if you can track down John Ardagh. He has a residence somewhere outside New Dublin.”

  Peter looked worried, but I could see him wavering. He couldn’t help getting caught up in the excitement of a story like this. And it was an opportunity to play the hero.

  “Let’s get going,” I said. The less he thought about it, the better. “Is there any danger of them finding the transport? Do we need to move it?”

  “No chance,” said Peter. “I don’t know what Yasmina did, but it might as well be invisible. I’d have never found it without the beacon.”

  “Let them find me,” growled Garvey.

  “Go easy if you can,” I said to him. “We need to get our people out, but we don’t want a bloodbath. These security people are just employees. And they may still have ghosts.” He was staring at the deck and I bent my head so he had to look at me. “Garvey?”

  He gave a grim nod. “Do my best. No promises.”

  It took less than a minute for Peter to glue the bug to my scalp, behind one ear. The thing was flesh-colored and about the size of a lentil. They’d have to shave my head to find it.

  “Don’t follow until I’m well on my way,” I warned him. “If you get caught we’re out of options.”

  “We’ll still have plan B,” said Garvey, slinging the rifle over his shoulder.

  I hopped off the barstool and Peter moved in close, wrapping his arms around me and kissing me. “Be careful, Rose.”

  I didn’t bother to rebuke him, which probably gave him the wrong idea. But arguing with Peter meant more time passing before I knew whether Murphy was okay.

  He gave me his watch, equipped with flashlight and navigator, so I could retrace his route down to the facility. The transport had set down in a meadow, waist-high with grass and illuminated by starlight. But as soon as I moved into the trees it was close and dark, and I imagined I could hear all kinds of things creeping around just beyond the range of the light.

  Mitchell’s second facility had been built about a hundred kilometers outside the New Dublin colony, which was situated next to a bay on one of the planet’s largest islands. Like the Symbiont Research Institute, the smaller facility could only be accessed by shuttle or transport. Sarah and Garvey had put their heads together and extracted a plan for the building and grounds from a secured area of the company’s Web site. Without that we’d never have found a way in that didn’t involve bushwhacking.

  As I tried to ignore the rustling alongside the trail, and the occasional set of eyes made luminous by my light, I wondered whether Sarah had betrayed us. I didn’t want to believe it, but someone obviously had.

  “Stay where you are!” a voice ordered from the path just ahead. A laser sight came to rest on my chest. “Raise your hands!”

  Bright light washed over me and I lifted my arms slowly, saying, “I’m not armed. I’m Elizabeth Cole. Dr. Mitchell is looking for me.”

  There was a wary silence, followed by low murmuring. One of the guards came forward and fastened restraints on me—real, key-access restraints this time. The nylon loop dangling from my right wrist gave him a moment’s pause.

  That’s right, I’m not helpless, you asshole.

  But I reminded myself that the guard—about my own age, and nervous-looking—probably wasn’t an asshole.

  “Let’s go,” he said, taking my arm.

  The trail led downhill for another kilometer, finally opening out into a valley with a small lake. A white fingernail of crescent moon reflected from the still surface, reminding me it had been about a month since Peter’s arrival. I felt better knowing he was in the forest behind me, watching and waiting.

  The facility was situated next to the lake. One of my guards called ahead, and I saw someone exit the building and descend the steps to meet us. Instinct ignited a warning beacon even before I recognized her, and in that moment I would have done anything to be on the opposite side of the planet.

  “Here’s our girl back again,” said Mitchell. She gave me one of her smug smiles. “I suppose you’re here to rescue your friends.”

  “I was thinking of a trade. Why don’t you keep me and let the others go?”

  “Touching, Elizabeth. I’ll give it some thought.”

  “I’m sure you will.”

  Mitchell turned her attention to my escorts. “Has your sweep picked up anyone else?”

  “No, doctor. No sign of a transport either. It may have already left.”

  “I don’t think so—nobody’s heard it. Keep looking, Jai.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I think you may have overstepped a little this time, doctor,” I said, hoping Peter was in range. “You’re free to do with me as you like, of course, but you must realize at some point someone is going to ask you to produce Murphy.”

  She hooked her cold fingers around my arm and led me up the stairs. “Grayson Murphy is officially on the ‘missing’ list. People who go missing on this planet rarely turn up again.”

  The situation was going from bad to worse. Not only had she failed to confirm that Murphy was here (for the sake of our recording) and alive (for the sake of my sanity), she’d covered herself for the possibility of his disappearance.

  “So we’ve basically done you a huge favor by escaping. The least you can do is let me see him.”

  “I’m not sure we agree about that.”

  She led me through a set of wooden doors i
nto a cozy lobby complete with fireplace, overstuffed chairs, tea tables, and colorful rugs.

  “This looks more like a hotel than a hospital,” I observed.

  “Exactly what it is.”

  “What does your company want with a hotel?”

  “It was originally built with the idea of housing visiting executives and entertaining potential clients.”

  “ERP administrators with money to burn on private contracts.”

  “Needless to say, since the onset of the alien threat visiting executives have been scarce. I’ve converted the facility for my own purposes.”

  “I heard about your detachment successes. Congratulations.”

  Mitchell guided me down a hallway decorated with artwork and more expensive rugs. “Poor Sarah. Heroics are almost always misguided.”

  My breath caught in my throat. Sarah had betrayed us. She just hadn’t done it on purpose. Mitchell must have figured out she had helped us escape.

  “So who is it that’s paying your employer to create slaves by detaching symbionts?”

  Mitchell smiled. “You’ve waxed a little melodramatic in your theorizing, Elizabeth. ERP is chronically understaffed, but there is no burning need to enslave the native population—especially considering more than half of you are over the age of fifty.”

  Again she’d avoided saying anything likely to shock planet administrators. And I’d still learned nothing about Murphy and the others. Garvey’s plan B was growing more appealing by the second.

  “You’re saying you don’t have detached ghosts living in some kind of work camp?”

  “As I believe I’ve told you before, we’re most interested in ending your ongoing threat to the project.”

  I clenched my teeth in frustration. Breathe, Elizabeth.

  “If that’s true,” I said more evenly, “you must be planning to roll out detachment planetwide.”

  “We’re still in the experimental phase, of course. There are kinks to be worked out. But I think Dr. Murphy’s success with the Ghost Protocol is a good indicator of our chances for success with detachment. It’s just a matter of selling the benefits.”