34
To Live or Die
There were two men in medical, one being treated for an embarrassing social ailment, and the doc, who was laughing about it. Dred slipped up behind them, picked up a scalpel and killed the patient while Jael broke the doctor’s neck. She sighed, staring at the bodies. If everyone had played their parts, that should be the last of them, apart from the pilot and jumper.
In the hall, Tam and Martine were waiting. He was clean, but the other woman had blood spattered on her shirt. She looked down with a rueful expression. “I know. It’s brand-new.”
Which wasn’t what Dred was thinking, but she laughed. She did a walk-through and found Calypso and Vost completing their circuit of the other half of the ship. Calypso nodded in response to the silent inquiry.
Great. The mutiny is complete.
“The jumper’s asleep,” Calypso said. “And the pilot’s playing some kind of VR game in his quarters.”
“They’re resting before making the jump to Gehenna,” Jael guessed.
That seemed likely to Dred, too. It had been a while since she’d traveled this way, but if they’d made an unexpected side trip to this system on top of other travel, they must need recovery time. Otherwise, the ship would already be docking in port and they’d have no clue about the plans for Jael. We owe his life to their frailty.
“It takes more out of the navigator than the pilot,” Tam said.
“So we should let him . . . her? Sleep until we come to an agreement with the pilot.”
“To be honest, I couldn’t tell,” Calypso admitted.
“Whether the jumper’s a man or a woman?” Jael sounded surprised.
“Well, you look. It’s one of those big flipping froggers. They haven’t been traveling the space lanes very long.”
“Oh. Yeah, I don’t remember what they’re called, either.” Dred glanced around, but everyone was shaking their heads.
Tam seemed to be wracking his brain, as keeping up with up-and-coming alien races must’ve ranked high on his to-do list when he was a government official. Eventually, he snapped his fingers. “Mareq.”
“That’s right. I don’t think I ever met one,” Martine said.
“Well, he or she’s asleep right there.” Calypso pointed to the room two doors down.
“I’ll guard the door,” Tam volunteered.
Dred nodded. “Then the rest of us will go chat with the pilot.”
She didn’t look forward to this conversation because if these two were deeply loyal to their crew, they might choose death rather than offer assistance to their murderers. And really, they had no leverage, apart from sparing their lives. But she gave away none of that trepidation as she stepped back and let Jael override the personal lock on the door. Calypso had been right about the pilot’s immersion; with a blank stare, he was jacked into his entertainment console and didn’t even notice them come in.
“I feel bad,” Martine said. “He’s so trusting.”
Vost strode over and pulled the plug. The pilot rocked backward, clawing at his eyes. His head twitched on his neck, once, twice, then he managed to focus on the room. It took him a little longer to realize there was a problem because he wore a confused smile. Then his gaze zeroed in on the dark stains flecking Martine’s shirt.
“What’re you doing here?”
“Taking the ship,” Vost replied. “We found out about your plan to sell one of us.”
Dred nodded. “It’s done. You and your navigator are the only ones left. So now you have a decision to make. You can resist and die. Or you can make one final jump on this vessel.”
Jael cut in, “We’ll compensate you appropriately, of course. Then you sign on with another ship and continue breathing.”
“I don’t know how Gazel will feel,” the pilot whispered. “Can I talk to her?”
“Nope,” Martine said cheerfully.
Vost was nodding. “I agree. Currently, we have her under guard, and it’s best if you make your decision independently. She might be impelled to throw her life away in solidarity if you’re the reckless type.”
“I’ll stay with him,” Jael offered.
Calypso was already halfway out the door. “Let’s go wake the navigator. I bet she’s had enough sleep at this point to get us to Gehenna.”
Dred followed the others out with a quiet look at Jael as he propped himself by the door. Hopefully, things wouldn’t escalate. The pilot looked too bewildered and cowed to try anything, but people’s behavior could be hard to predict. It would be helpful if she could read him, but the last attempt left her leery. She’d prefer to put a few days of uninterrupted sleep and solid nutrition behind her before she tried that again. They found the Mareq’s quarters without trouble.
The navigator hadn’t even secured her door, just passed out on her bunk. Which spoke of exhaustion or a trusting nature. But camaraderie developed on a ship where people felt safe. She’d never traveled with mercs who wouldn’t prefer raping a woman in her sleep to consensual sex, however.
“I’ll do the honors,” Calypso said.
The tall woman went over, but before she could touch the jumper, the Mareq female rolled out of range, crouching in the corner of her bunk as shivers rolled over her. Her abdomen changed color, probably indicating her emotional state. Dred could tell she was scared without reading her. Guilt flared. Mary, I’m glad Jael isn’t here to see this. The pilot was more restrained, at least.
This will take a delicate touch. Without the jumper’s agreement, the pilot would dig in, too. Killing them both would leave them stranded, something the pilot and jumper had to know. But this was a good ship, plenty of fuel. It was possible they had sufficient stores to make a slow haul to the nearest port. Tam would need to run the numbers. No question they were better off in this ship than they had been the junker; that had been the space equivalent of a life raft.
“These people are like my family,” she began quietly.
• • •
JAEL lost track of how long he watched the pilot. The man didn’t speak, just sat in his chair looking nervous and ineffectual. His wispy little moustache didn’t do much to amend the impression. In the VR he was playing, he was probably an action-hero type, shooting people with impunity. In his room, though, he jumped anytime Jael exhaled too loud.
“So what’s your name?” he asked.
The man acted like it was a trap. “Why do you care?”
“Because I’m hoping we don’t have to kill you. I didn’t want trouble, believe me. If the stubborn woman had taken my offer, there wouldn’t have been any.”
“Huh?”
“I offered her whatever the top bounty’s paying to drop us off safe and sound.”
“Stupid move on her part. I’m Anjon, Benivar Anjon. You . . . can call me whatever you want, I guess.”
Jael didn’t explain that the captain had been trying to be honorable in her way. It would’ve been beyond shady to take his money, then let her crew blab his whereabouts over bottles of hooch. If she had, however, she could’ve saved her ship. Is it better to die honestly than to live on a lie? He wasn’t qualified to judge.
“I’m Jael. Just Jael.”
That did it for conversation.
Finally, the door slid open, and the Mareq jumper came in, flanked by the rest of his group. He couldn’t recall ever talking to one, so he had zero background in reading their expressions. So like the pilot, he had to wait for the news.
“This is not my time to die,” the jumper said clearly.
Jael thought Anjon looked relieved. “What did they tell you?”
The Mareq perched on the edge of the pilot’s bunk. “Did you know that Captain Holland promised aid, then secretly made plans to sell one of their number into slavery?”
“I heard something about a bounty,” he admitted. “Did you hear that these folks o
ffered the same amount to go about their business?”
The navigator shook her head, her chest flushing a peculiarly attractive shade of Gehenna red. Jael hoped it was a sign. “I’m not dying today. I hope you won’t either.”
A slow sigh slid out of the pilot. “To be honest, I was thinking the same. It’s not like the mercs give us a full cut anyway since all we do is drive. So that bounty they decided to collect, they wouldn’t have paid us from the pool.”
“That’s a poor choice,” Vost said. “I always give my transport officers a full share even if they don’t see combat. Because getting out in a hurry can make all the difference.”
“See, I tried to explain that to Holland, but she wouldn’t listen.” To Jael’s amusement, the pilot aired some work grievances then, probably to rationalize his decision.
“I don’t care about credits.” Gazel truly looked as if she didn’t. “I do care about my life. It’s my responsibility to see as much of the universe as I can and go home with my observations.”
“Like a life quest?” Tam asked, obviously interested.
“Something like that.” The jumper’s expression seemed open and friendly, from what Tam could tell. That seemed strange under the circumstances. “Most of us have the J-gene, but only a small portion choose to train as navigators. My people don’t live long, and so when we leave Marakeq, we’re tasked with enriching the body of knowledge available to everyone. The Mareq tend not to trust what we haven’t seen or experienced for ourselves, so . . .” She trailed off. “But this isn’t relevant. If Ben agrees, I’ll accept your offer to pay for passage.”
“You can have the ship, too,” Vost said.
Anjon and Gazel shared a look, then they both shook their heads. Gazel spoke for the pair of them. “This vessel will have bad . . . energy now. You’re welcome to it.”
“We could sell it and split the credits. Then the bad juju is somebody else’s problem.” Calypso glanced around, seeming pleased with the solution.
“Sounds good to me,” Martine said.
The pilot and jumper were the last to agree, but when they thought about how much even an eighth of a ship would likely amount to, they finally nodded. Then Anjon got down to business. “Captain Holland gave us orders not to jump until we heard from her.”
“Is that why we’re still puttering along on auto in straight space?” Dred asked.
Gazel nodded. “I can take us to Gehenna whenever you wish.”
“We need to scrub this vessel first.” Vost glanced around, as if gathering consensus.
Jael agreed it was a good idea. Fifteen bodies and blood spatter wasn’t a good way to make port, even in a smuggler’s haven. So he said, “Go for it.”
Martine put in, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m keeping these two company, on the off chance they’re telling us what we want to hear right now.”
Tam’s mouth flattened into a line. “That would be most unwise. You can take us wherever you wish, true, but your lives won’t last long thereafter. And if you try anything in grimspace, you’ll perish with us.”
“I understand your concern,” Gazel said. “And I don’t mind if she waits here while you . . . tidy up the ship.”
“Can I go back to my VR?” Anjon asked.
Martine shrugged. “Knock yourself out.”
With everyone else on sanitation detail, it didn’t take long to jettison the corpses and clean up the traces. An hour later, after Tam had himself checked by the med droid—that only found traces of a strong sedative—they reconvened in the pilot’s quarters. Anjon was playing his game, as requested, while Martine kept an eye on Gazel.
“Ready to jump?” Jael asked.
The navigator bounded to her feet. “It’s my favorite thing in the world.”
35
The Fun Never Ends
Since this was a good-sized ship, there were plenty of seats in the hub. Dred’s nerves screamed as she strapped into the safety harness. This gear was supposed to keep your brain from frying as the vessel slid in and out of grimspace. But brain damage aside, there were so many ways this could go wrong. For these moments, they were completely dependent on Gazel and Anjon.
And people lie.
She didn’t realize she was frowning until Jael reached over and touched the pleat between her brows. “Hey, we’re out of Perdition. This is the last step, right?”
“Big, massive leap, more like.”
“Still. We can do it.”
“Listen to the man,” Calypso called.
Jael wrapped his fingers around hers, and she tried to relax. Martine was whispering to Tam, while Vost sat quiet, likely thinking of a reunion with his son. The engines roared, signaling that they were gathering the power to make the leap. This was such an odd feeling, being completely powerless. If Anjon and Gazel wanted to, they could kill everyone on board and turn this into a ghost ship.
Her stomach knotted. Some ships had view ports, so passengers could watch the difference in light between grimspace and straight, but this one didn’t. Just as well, it always made her feel queasy. The jump didn’t seem to take long, but it probably felt different to those in the cockpit. As soon as they shifted back, Tam unstrapped. Dred and Jael followed suit, and they all headed up front.
She waited for Tam to read the star charts over Anjon’s shoulders, poised to put these two down. But then he smiled, relief visible in his dark eyes. “Good work.”
“It’s not my best.” Gazel sounded apologetic.
“True. She’s gotten us within half an hour of a target before. But forty-five minutes isn’t bad,” he added hastily, like they might be executed for a sloppy jump.
“No, this is good.” Jael patted his shoulder, prompting a subtle release of tension. “If you have a working handheld, we should be close enough for me to transfer credits.”
“Handheld?”
They both looked puzzled, and Anjon produced his wrist. “I have this?”
Oh. Skin-tech had been in beta testing when Dred was locked up. Looks like it’s in mass production now. From what she recalled, the customer had a processor implanted in his wrist, and the skin became the screen. You could do business, watch holos, anything the old handhelds used to offer. Jael hesitated, then took hold of Anjon’s hand.
“This is awkward.”
The pilot laughed. “A little. But you should be able to move funds this way.”
With some trial and error, as Dred watched, Jael pulled up an account. She wouldn’t have guessed he had money socked away, but he had an account with the oldest independent financial consortium, where they didn’t use any citizenship markers, only numerical codes and biometric readings. The number of zeroes astounded her.
“Huh,” he said. “Looks like Ramona Jax sent the credits, as promised. Not that I got the chance to spend any of it. And Mary bless interest-bearing accounts.”
“Holy shit,” Anjon breathed. “You’re seriously loaded.”
“Whoever said crime doesn’t pay,” Dred said, deadpan.
“So how much for the ride?” Jael asked.
Gazel glanced at Anjon. “What should we charge for a single jump?” The Mareq seemed not to realize she could ask whatever she wanted; there was a sweetness about her that made Dred feel protective.
But Anjon wasn’t a strong, decisive type either. In fact, she’d never met a gentler, more passive pair. Which might be why Holland had hired them. These two weren’t likely to argue or question orders. Gazel only wanted to travel, and Anjon seemed unnaturally attached to his VR unit, odd considering his own life could be chock-full of adventure. The two discussed the price for a bit, then settled on a number that was half what Dred would’ve said.
Jael added twenty percent when he made the transfer, and the funds popped up in Anjon’s account. “I can trust you to share with her, right?”
“
Absolutely. We’re a team.”
“Then take us into Gehenna.”
So close. We’re so close now.
Before long, the others were gathered just outside, making Anjon nervous. But she couldn’t blame them. It would be impossible not to want to see freedom get closer and closer on the screen. When the world popped into visual range, Dred took a deep breath.
Stunning.
From this distance, the world was a titian swirl, sunset orange and blood red, mingled with a softness that made the place glow with apparent warmth. They came in fast, so Dred’s focus shifted from the abstract patterns of color to being able to make out the tops of tall buildings through the transparent haven of the dome. Anjon flew smoothly, no sign that his ship had been hijacked.
Let’s hope he’s calm on the comm.
“Stargazer, this is control one. What’s your purpose in port?”
Before the pilot could answer, Tam leaned in. “Pleasure, of course.”
The docking agent laughed. “That’s the best reason to come. Are you carrying cargo?”
“That’s a negative, control. We have eight passengers, ready to pay the leisure tax and enjoy your finest hospitality.” There was a smile fixed on his face, conveyed properly in his tone, and she admired Tam’s aptitude for management.
“You make me wish I had time off, Stargazer. Sounds like you’re ready to cut loose.”
“It’s been a long time coming,” Tam said.
“Proceed to the first checkpoint and wait for further instructions.”
Dred had almost forgotten that part. There was a system of complex locks to protect the atmosphere in the dome, so it took a while for Anjon to pass through all of the safeguards.
But eventually, they were on the ground in the hangar. Free, thank Mary. Finally.
• • •
THANKS to a swift deployment of cleaning bots, the ship didn’t smell like blood. There was no overt sign that a mutiny had occurred hours before, nothing to alarm the dock authority. Jael escorted the pilot and navigator to the exit, then he stepped past, beckoning his people.