by TR Cameron
“A cargo building with probably millions, if not billions, in value inside it.”
Fair point. I’m open to suggestions if you have any. Her silence suggested that she, too, lacked any good ideas at the moment. He peered upward, thinking that climbing to the top might give him a better hiding place. The rack offered enough handholds that he could probably make it, as long as no one discovered him mid-climb. He used his left hand to pull himself halfway up the next stack, but when he tried to reach for the lip with his right, the pain in his shoulder returned, and he let himself drop to the floor with a gasp.
Athena observed, “You’ve done more damage to the wound.”
Yeah, I kind of figured that. He moved the arm around and discovered that the pain was manageable as long as he didn’t try to reach too far in any direction. He didn’t ask the AI to diminish it further, given the near certainty that he’d do something even more damaging to it if she did. At least I can still use it, if not perfectly. A limping man is easy enough prey. I don’t need to make myself a limping one-armed man.
“Don’t forget mentally challenged.”
Shut it. Honestly, now is not the time. Save it for later. Contrary to his comment, her words had inspired a smile, if only for a moment.
Athena got serious again as a soft click registered at the edge of his hearing. “There might not be a later at this rate. That sounded like the door opening.”
Yeah. I know. And the delay was long enough that they might have gathered reinforcements. They couldn’t have that many here yet, though, right? She didn’t answer, and he shrank back against the stack of cargo to his right, minimizing the possibility he would be visible from the middle lane. A minute or so later, as he was thinking of trying to make for one of the aisles that ran parallel to the center one, he heard a sound behind him. A voice murmured indistinctly, but the tone sounded excited—like maybe he’d found the person he was searching for. Of course, they’ve got thermal detection or something. Damn spies.
Jax charged out of his hiding place and ran to his left, toward the path he’d considered before being discovered. A shout from nearby generated answering calls from farther away. He narrowly missed getting run over by a forklift, and the crack of a gun sounded almost simultaneously with the clang of a bullet hitting the shelving unit right next to his head. He dodged to his right, then ran straight for the opposite side of the room, slowing only briefly before the center lane to be sure he wouldn’t get run down. Yet another forklift was rolling down the next aisle, and the idea came to him in a flash. Before he could consciously consider it, he’d jumped onto the unit’s boxy back end and hung on the back with his left hand as it sped toward the back of the warehouse.
More shouts indicated his foes had seen him, and he cursed under his breath. His arm was almost wrenched from its socket as the thing stopped and rotated suddenly, then headed down another line of shelves. The forks lifted, extended to grab a pallet, and withdrew it from the rack. It moved more slowly with its cargo in place, but not much. Jax muttered, “This is a really stupid idea, Jackson,” but pulled himself up to the top of the vehicle and made the short climb to the top of the cargo. He was now about ten feet off the ground, and he laid flat in the hope that they wouldn’t think to look up, but would assume he’d jumped off. It turned and headed down the center aisle toward the back of the building.
The plan worked, after a fashion. The forklift carried him out the facility’s enormous rear doors, which parted in time for it to pass through and clanged shut behind it. But then the vehicle turned toward a large cargo container, rather than a ship. He growled, “Oh, hell no,” and retraced his steps, then jumped and rolled off the back of his ride. An abundance of spacefaring vessels, more than he’d ever seen in one place, were arranged seemingly haphazardly on the pavement outside the warehouse. He limped into a run away from where he’d last seen his pursuers. Athena, find me a ship.
“There are no passenger ships in this area.”
His foot gave out, and he stumbled and slowed. The laser bolt that slashed through the air over his head may or may not have hit without the unintentional dodge, but the threat pushed him to increase his speed again. I don’t need a passenger ship. Anything that will get me off this planet. Hell, buy something with the Academy’s accounts.
He took a right-hand turn around another cargo container and stopped to catch his breath. Okay, time to turn the tables. He risked a glance around the corner and saw one enemy diverting to circle behind his position, and two more coming ahead. They were running all-out, not maintaining anything like proper team discipline. He smiled. Finally, a break. He instinctively timed their advance, which he hoped wouldn’t slacken until they were close to the container. He pulled off one cufflink and closed it in his right fist. Then, when the moment felt right, he burst from cover and ran at the two agents.
They’d had their pistols at least halfway raised, which was an unexpected negative, but they were closer than he’d expected, which more than balanced the scales. He ducked and weaved a little without losing a significant amount of speed and sidestepped to his right to interfere with the left one’s line of sight. Jax batted the nearer agent’s pistol away as he fired it, and a stripe of pain along his right ear and scalp told him he hadn’t dodged fast enough. He stepped in with a kick that knocked the man backward, but the other had moved out of the way, so the effort to compromise them both failed.
That’s fine, I have something for you, too, buddy. Jax launched himself forward with a scream and a feint with his left hand before whipping his right up in a shallow arc, palm open and cufflink leading. He slammed the diamond into the man’s skull, and the agent immediately dropped while clutching his head and curled into a ball. The other agent tackled Jax, who barely ducked his chin in time to avoid taking the blow on his throat. He twisted as he fell to protect his skull and slithered away before the man could pin him.
His assailant pulled back his left fist and brought it down in a haymaker at Jax’s face. With Athena-assisted swiftness, he grabbed it in his artificial hand and squeezed. The other man paled as his bones crumbled under the pressure. Jax got a leg up and kicked him away, then got to his feet and started stumbling.
Athena ordered, “Go left, Jax,” and he careened in that direction. He only realized when he looked down to see how bad his foot was that one of the others had shot him in the leg, a grazing blow that nonetheless was bleeding heavily.
He moaned. “I don’t think I’m going to make it.”
The voice inside his head snapped, “Yes, we are. Keep your feet moving. Up ahead on your right is a vacuum rig. Grab it. Use both hands.” He obeyed, absently noticing that he seemed to be losing sensation in his fingertips as he fumbled with them. “Now, into the container on your left.”
It was one of the giant cargo containers. He wasn’t sure why she thought it would be a better hiding place than getting on a ship, but his brain was closing down so he decided it would be best simply to do as she ordered. He slipped in and found a spot between two pallets that would permit him to lay down mostly under cover since pieces jutted out of them above him. Instructions involving putting on the mask and turning on the air supply were given and obeyed. His eyes glazed over, and he started to fade as she said something about slowing down his blood flow.
His last image was a manifest stuck to one of them that read “Rearden Trade Corporation.”
Rearden. Why do I know that name? He was out before he remembered the answer.
Chapter Eighteen
Waking up at all had been a surprise. Waking up in a comfortable bed, strapped down in case of a loss of gravity, was totally unexpected. A bag of water hung from the wall above him with a long tube attached. Jax drank greedily, not stopping until he’d consumed the last drop. He sighed and worked at the buckle of the restraint. Athena, want to fill me in?
“I saved you. You could start your extensive recitations of thanks now, that would be fine.”
He snorted and slowly
sat up. The world swam less than he’d expected. The surrounding room was uniformly grey and boring, including the sheets and covers on the bed that was the room’s only furniture. It was about the size of a walk-in closet. Where am I?
“Aboard the Siren’s Scream, a trade vessel owned and operated by the Reardens, based on Mars.”
Right, I remember seeing that as I passed out. How did I get out of the cargo container?
“I used your comm to call for assistance after we took off. They were honor-bound to help you heal, and that brings us up to the moment. We’re locked in this cabin, and they might be considering contacting the authorities. I tapped into the network’s entertainment level, which includes the external cameras, and the ship is still on its way to the jump point. I would expect they’re waiting to talk to you before making a decision.”
Great. I don’t suppose there’s a shower nearby.
“Not that you can get to.”
Bleh. Okay. He pushed himself to his feet and swayed a little, but found his head was getting clearer by the moment. He tapped on the control panel set beside the door. “Uh, hello?”
A gruff male voice that sounded a decade or so past middle age replied, “Ah, our stowaway awakes. We had some doubts that you’d pull through.”
Jax leaned his head against the wall. “I’m a little more resilient than I look.”
“We counted one laser burn, one nasty cut, a bullet wound, and whatever you did to your foot. We’re running a pool on what your excuse will be. I have ‘thief,’ and my instincts are pretty good about this stuff.”
He groaned softly. “I’ve noticed that you haven’t invited me to leave this compartment. Does the pool have something to do with that?”
“It might. You have to understand. My employers are targets for all sorts of nefarious people. From corporate espionage and intellectual property theft right on down to petty piracy. We can’t have petty pirates wandering around the ship willy-nilly.”
Jax laughed. “I promise you that I’m not a petty pirate.” He took a gamble based on something he’d heard in the other man’s voice when he spoke about lawbreaking. “You have military in your background, don’t you?”
“UCCA all the way,” the man agreed.
“Well, we have that in common. I’m in the Special Forces, currently on leave. If you want to sit and chat for a while, I can give you my story. Hell, you can even put me in cuffs if that’s what it takes, but I’m going to die if I don’t get a shower soon. Trust me. It will benefit both of us.”
The man laughed. “I think we can do without the cuffs, as long as you don’t mind weapons pointed at you.”
“Assuming that the people holding them are competent, I have no problem with that at all.”
The door buzzed and slid open to reveal an armed guard standing outside it. The gruff voice informed him, “Shower and clothes are down the hall to your left. I’ll see you in the galley when you’re finished.”
The shower was simple but boasted impressive pressure, and the ship’s coverall was well-worn and soft, which gave him a positive impression of the person who ran the vessel. He figured that was probably the same individual he’d talked to earlier, and the man sitting at the table in the galley wore the rank insignia of a shipmaster.
Jax lowered himself into the chair opposite the likely captain of the Siren’s Scream. His face was a little fleshy, the way that those who liked their drink on a fairly frequent basis got. He had a close-cropped grey beard and mustache, and sharp eyes that stared into Jax’s. Wrinkles adorned the corners, but they looked more like marks of laughter than of anger. “Captain Jackson Reese. Let me officially thank you for saving me.”
Athena gave a long-suffering sigh. “Sure, don’t thank me, but thank him. Real nice.”
Hush.
The other man nodded. “You’re welcome, Captain. Of course, you could be lying. I’m still not convinced you’re not a pirate.”
“Well, at least we’ve gotten past the petty part. That’s a start.”
His host grunted, and Jax heard the laugh it inadequately covered. “How are your wounds? Care to share how you got them?”
“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to tell you. I kind of am a thief, I guess, but in service of the good guys. There’s a double agent back on Bledard. I had to break into her place to get some evidence. Unfortunately, she was a little more clever than I gave her credit for. She shot me in the shoulder as I jumped out a window.”
The ship’s captain winced. “That sounds painful. That the cut on your side?”
He nodded. “Glass, or something like it. Glad it wasn’t the heavier stuff, or I would have smashed my brains out against it.” Along with my humor-impaired passenger.
Athena snorted. “Hush.”
Touché. The other man gestured at the floor. “And the foot?”
“Security robot.”
“Leg?”
“More agents at the spaceport.”
The man grinned. “I think that makes you a thief. I win the pool.”
Jax laughed. “Well, I’m glad I could help.”
“Did you get what you needed?”
He nodded. “More or less. I wouldn’t call it a resounding success, though.”
“Neither would I.” His host reached a hand across the table. “Shipmaster Ecklesson Tarn.”
Jax shook it. “Pleased to meet you.”
Tarn withdrew his hand and leaned back in his chair. “I’m afraid we’re on a tight schedule. No time to drop you off between here and our destination.”
“Beggars can’t be choosers. Speaking of which, I’m more than willing to be part of your crew while aboard. Put me to work.”
The shipmaster’s smile reappeared. “That’s the kind of incentive I appreciate. Lots of decks to scrub on a cargo ship.”
Jax groaned. “Been a while since I had that task, but I’m sure I’ll get the hang of it again right quick. How long until we arrive?”
“We’ll be in jump position in about sixteen hours. Then it’s another twenty from our insertion point to Mars.”
“You wouldn’t happen to be going to the Rearden’s private port, would you?”
He frowned slightly. “Yes. How do you know about that?”
Jax grinned. “I know a guy who works there. Standring. Barrel of laughs.”
Tarn scowled. “You apparently know a different Standring than I do. Prissy bastard.”
He laughed. “Yeah, well, once you get to really know him you discover he’s a very funny prissy bastard.”
The other man shook his head. “Small world.”
“Or, it could be that I unconsciously picked a Rearden ship because I had that connection. I was kind of out of it.” Or that my resident Artificial Intelligence led me to it deliberately.
Athena replied, “Of course I did because only one of the pair of us is an idiot.”
Tarn said, “Well, how about we get some food and drink into you, then put you to work?”
His time aboard the Scream wouldn’t go down as either the best or worst of his many space transits. The captain had assigned him some tasks, but nothing harder than those given to the rest of the crew. The manual labor allowed him to limber up his muscles, which had suffered from damage and exhaustion and the cold of the cargo bay. He’d also used the time to offer Athena thanks often enough that her chill had thawed as well.
The ship didn’t land at the private dome, but rather at an industrial area on a different part of the Rearden estate. Tarn must have called ahead, because as Jax waved his goodbyes to the crew and stepped down the ramp onto Martian soil, Standring was waiting for him. The man was the perfect vision of a butler, right down to the formal uniform.
“Greetings once again, Captain Reese.” His face was neutral, but Jax spotted the hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth.
“Greetings to you, Standring. Not quite how I’d expected to encounter you, I have to say.”
“The experience is identical from this side.”
He gestured toward a small pod-like car that sat nearby. “Right this way, please.”
They climbed in, and the autonomous vehicle slid smoothly into motion. It was virtually silent inside. Jax inquired, “How long to our destination?”
“The Rearden estate prison is only about five minutes away.” His head snapped around to find the other man grinning openly. “Approximately fifteen minutes to the mansion.”
“You’re not trying to give me a super clever and subtle hint that the family is upset with me, are you? Because truth be told, I’m not so good at parsing subtlety.” Athena snorted but didn’t pile on.
“Master Rearden is, at worst, amused. The lady of the house is less so, but I wouldn’t call her upset. The children, well, you’ve met them. I don’t imagine your current situation will influence how they feel about you one way or the other.” The last time Jax had been on Mars, he hadn’t connected with anyone other than Standring and Anders Rearden, the clan’s patriarch. Of course, the fact that his friend, pilot, and frequent partner in troublemaking Alicia Rearden wasn’t on the best of terms with her family had probably had a lot to do with it.
“Any word from Cia?”
The other man’s smile grew wider. “Master Rearden will be informing her of your arrival any minute.”
Jax groaned. “Meaning they’ve deliberately decided to have me to themselves for a while, is what you mean.”
Standring nodded. “Indeed, I would imagine you’re correct.”
“Awesome. Any tips?”
His traveling companion shrugged. “Be honest, be polite, be yourself.”
Jax snorted. “I’m not sure that being myself will endear me to these folks.”
“You might be surprised. In any case, your timing is good. You’ve missed the formal dinner, so I’ll deliver you to the kitchen where the chef will feed you, then Master Rearden will receive you in his den.”
“I’ll need a map if I recall properly.” They pulled up to the house, and it was every bit as big as he remembered.