Home Run

  Madoka nodded. “That’s a good idea. Lisa, make a note. Get with HR to find a replacement for McKenzie, get that person assigned, and then move McKenzie to Grinder Eight for temporary duty. Confidential note to Marcy Thompson for a fitness rating on him in three months.”

  Lisa nodded, her fingers flashing across the screen of her tablet. “Got it.”

  “Thank you, Lisa. That’s all for now,” Madoka said, her tight smile aimed at where Konstantin glowered from the corner.

  Lisa gathered her tablet and rose. “Of course, ma’am.” She left after a quick—and perhaps slightly pitying—smile at Zoya. The door closed behind her with a click.

  “I didn’t do it,” Madoka said.

  Konstantin’s eyebrows rose. “You didn’t set Kate up for that?”

  Madoka shook her head and offered Zoya a shrug. “I happen to believe she’s right, but I didn’t put her up to it. She’s been brilliant in strategic planning. Given her insight into the company and the markets, I don’t think it’s surprising that she put her finger right on the problem and offered us a solution.”

  Konstantin looked at Zoya. “You haven’t said much.”

  Zoya bit her lip and shook her head. “Kate is right. I’m not sure how much I buy the hero worship angle but she brought up an excellent point about needing somebody there to speak for Usoko Mining. I’m not only the best candidate for that now that I’m here. I’m really the only candidate.” She frowned. “I don’t like it, but I can’t turn my back on you or the company when we don’t know what the problem is.”

  Madoka smiled. “We can revisit this when you get back.”

  Zoya nodded and looked at her grandfather. “Any advice?”

  Konstantin shook his head. “Do what you think needs doing. I won’t second-guess you.”

  “You trust me that far?” Zoya asked with a little chuckle in her voice.

  Konstantin’s expression flattened to dead seriousness. “I trusted you with a hauler and the lives of over a dozen employees before you were old enough to know what you had in your hands. I trusted you to do the right thing by them and the company. When Furtner died, you made me prouder than I could have imagined. Much as I hate the idea that you’re being railroaded into a job you don’t need or want, I have to agree with Kate. You’re our best hope to pull something out of this situation.” He paused and nodded to her, his eyes suspiciously shiny. “Thank you.”

  Chapter 10

  Margary System:

  2368, February 01

  Natalya checked her instruments and looked at Zoya. “We ready?”

  “Jump locked and ready,” she said. “We can’t afford to slow too much more or we’ll miss the hole.”

  “Let’s jump, then.” Natalya tapped the jump button and the stars all moved to new positions.

  “Dead on,” Zoya said after a couple of ticks.

  Natalya nodded and pushed the throttles up a little. “Killing the vector.”

  “Running up the new heading,” Zoya said. “One tick.”

  Natalya stretched in her couch, arching her back against the surface. “I could use a cuppa.”

  “I could too, but let’s see where we land,” Zoya said. “Numbers running now.”

  Natalya relaxed into her seat and stared out at the stars. “Are you all right with this?”

  Zoya snorted. “Not really, but I’ll get over it.” Her console bipped. “New heading. Loading to the autopilot.” She tapped a few keys. “It’s a really small change at this distance.”

  “That’s what I figured,” Natalya said, watching the vector growing ever shorter by the tick. “We’re going to have forward way in another five ticks.”

  Zoya nodded. “That adjustment burn is done. We’re already in course.” She sat back on her couch and looked over at Natalya. “They thought we were a couple.”

  Natalya grinned back. “I got that impression, too. I’m not sure if they were disappointed or relieved that we aren’t. Your grandmother has titanium balls, doesn’t she?”

  Zoya laughed. “Yeah. Seems like it at times.”

  “She’s been after you to take over the company since you were little?”

  “I think Pop-pop had a talk with her when I decided to go to the academy.”

  “She’s getting impatient, I think,” Natalya said.

  Zoya shrugged. “Maybe. I think if I would give her a commitment for when I’ll step in, that would help. I really don’t think they’re going to step away any time soon.” She glanced at Natalya. “You saw them at that staff meeting.”

  Natalya grinned. “You grandmother looked every bit the CEO.”

  “She’s the big picture person. Pop-pop has his finger on the pulse for the day-to-day ops.”

  “I noticed he knew exactly where this grinder was.”

  “Yeah. And he knew Marty well enough to call him by his nickname. He’s bigger than Gram but she’s the one that intimidates people.”

  Natalya thought back to the meeting. “I noticed that, but didn’t realize what it was. Any idea why?”

  Zoya shook her head. “I’m not sure. I think it’s because she’s so decisive and sure of her actions.”

  “Why is that intimidating?”

  “Because she has the uncanny ability to cut through whatever foggy piece of business she’s up against. She’s always been able to see through bullshit and isn’t afraid to call anybody on it. I think it makes her look cold and calculating to some of the crews.”

  Natalya nodded. “I could see that.”

  “They all respect her, though. Never heard anybody call her a derogatory name behind her back.”

  “You might not have been in the right place at the right time,” Natalya said.

  Zoya shrugged. “That’s possible, too.”

  “Who was that Kate person?”

  “Kate Jonuska. Scary smart. Brilliant strategist. Joined the company about two stanyers before I left for the academy and had already built a solid reputation with Manchester before she hopped across to Usoko Mining.”

  “She tagged you like a heavy-metal asteroid,” Natalya said.

  “Not like there wasn’t plenty of hand-wringing on the wall.”

  “Hand-writing?” Natalya asked.

  Zoya cast her a rueful grin. “I meant what I said.”

  Natalya chuckled. “Coming up on jump?”

  Zoya consulted her terminal. “Programmed burn for another forty seconds. When the thrusters stop firing, jump us.”

  Natalya leaned forward, watching the burn timer count down and listening to the low rumble behind them. When the thrusters stopped rumbling, she punched the button and they jumped back to Margary.

  “Grinder Eight on short range,” Zoya said.

  “Nicely plotted,” Natalya said.

  “I can’t take the credit. We ran long by about two percent,” Zoya said. “Jumped us closer than I wanted.”

  “Whatever the cause, how soon can we dock?”

  “Calculating.” Zoya stared at her console, hands poised over her keys. “New course calculated. Routing to autopilot.”

  “Execute,” Natalya said.

  “Your button to press,” Zoya said.

  Natalya tapped the key and the stars rotated around them as the low rumble of thrusters started again. “Docking in two stans?”

  “That’s what the plot says. We should probably let them know we’re in the neighborhood.”

  Natalya brought up the communications interface and sent a request for docking clearance. “I kinda miss the voice comms.”

  “You have to admit, this is a lot more efficient,” Zoya said.

  “It is,” Natalya said. “Still feels like it’s missing something.”

  Zoya snorted and relaxed back in her couch. “You said something about coffee?”

  Natalya nodded. “I did.” She pulled the releases on her seat belts and popped off the couch, heading for the galley. “I could use a snack, too. Want anything?”

  “Genevieve sent cookies in
that care package. I wouldn’t say no to a cookie with my coffee.”

  “Oh, I forgot about that. Good call.” Natalya stuck her head out of the galley. “While you’re waiting, let your grandparents know we’re on final approach.”

  Zoya nodded and reached for her keys. “Good idea.”

  “How do you want to handle this?” Natalya asked from the galley.

  “The hot-bunking?”

  “Yeah. You wanna camp with me like we’ve done in the past?”

  “My stuff’s still packed. Easy enough to do that. We can let Bean have my stateroom,” Zoya said. “Give him a place to go and keep him from getting under foot.”

  “Think he’s going to be a problem?” Natalya asked, handing Zoya a cup of coffee with a cookie balanced on the lid.

  Zoya took it and shrugged. “Hard telling. Marty seemed to think he was a brilliant engineer with interpersonal skills issues.”

  “Well, to be fair, Marty called him a know-it-all, if I remember.” Natalya settled in with her own coffee and cookie. “I can think of a couple of people back in Ravaine who might have the same opinion of us.”

  Zoya laughed and nodded. “Fair enough. You’re probably right. But the know-it-all was McKenzie.”

  “Long as he doesn’t try to redesign the Peregrine while we’re flying her, it should be fine.”

  Their consoles bipped for incoming traffic.

  Natalya leaned forward to open the message. “Hold at ten kilometers?”

  Zoya opened the message on her screen and frowned. “That’s odd.”

  “Maybe they have some traffic congestion or something,” Natalya said.

  “Could be. Unlikely, but I suppose it could be.” Zoya tapped a few keys. “I’ve modified the course. We’ll hold at ten kilometers.”

  As the distance counted down, Natalya kept an eye on short-range. “You know, there’s nobody out here but us chickens.”

  “If there’s a barge unloading, it might not show from this far out.”

  Their consoles bipped again with new incoming traffic. “From Big Rock,” Natalya said. “Seems there’s a problem with Bean.”

  Zoya stared at the message on her console. “He doesn’t want to go?” She turned to look at Natalya. “What in the whole wide universe is he thinking?”

  Natalya looked at the message from Big Rock and sipped her coffee. “We’re almost at the ten kilometer mark.”

  Zoya nodded and slotted her coffee into the armrest of her couch. “Let’s see if we can get to the bottom of this.” She typed a message and pressed the enter key. “I’ve asked for clarification on the docking.”

  “Who’s in charge of the station?” Natalya asked.

  “Marcy Thompson. Long-timer. I remember her from before the academy and she was an old hand then.”

  “Can you reach her directly?”

  Zoya pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes for several long moments. “Maybe.”

  “Try that,” Natalya said. “We at least have to dock and talk to this joker face to face.”

  Zoya nodded and started typing again.

  Chapter 11

  Margary System:

  2368, February 01

  The grinding station hung off their starboard bow, a jewel on the velvet night. “How is this guy able to override the station manager?” Natalya asked.

  Zoya shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  Their consoles bipped. “From Big Rock,” Zoya said. “This should be good.”

  “We’re copied on it,” Natalya said. “They’re sending TIC?”

  Zoya shrugged. “That would be the normal course of action when you suspect your station has been hijacked.”

  “Has it?” Natalya asked.

  “We can’t really tell from this far out. Let’s see if Marcy will answer my message. It’s only been a couple of ticks.”

  As if on cue their consoles bipped again. The message was addressed to Zoya at her private account. “Speak of the devil,” Natalya said.

  Zoya popped the message up on her screen. “Yeah. Apparently Bean has holed up in environmental and is threatening them.”

  Natalya felt her eyes practically bulging out of her head. “So, what? He’s taken the station hostage to keep us from docking?”

  Zoya shrugged. “He can’t be serious. Accept a new job assignment or go to jail? You’d think there must be some middle ground that didn’t involve a criminal indictment.”

  “You mean, like, quit?”

  “That would have been my choice, yes, but perhaps there’s been a miscommunication,” Zoya said.

  Natalya snorted. “That’s some communications gap.”

  “I asked Marcy to let us board so we can talk to him.” Zoya typed a reply and pressed the send key.

  “This is the best choice?” Natalya asked, almost to herself.

  Zoya shrugged. “Something’s not adding up.”

  The console bipped and new docking instructions appeared. “Well, that’s something,” Zoya said.

  “Take us in,” Natalya said. “I’m torn between being really, really angry and completely incredulous.”

  “I’m with you,” Zoya said as she started typing commands.

  A stan later, they stepped out of the ship and into docking bay one. A grizzled older woman stood there to greet them. Her cropped hair gave her head a snowy sheen and her smile made every wrinkle on her face cast shadows along her cheek bones. “Zoya. It’s been a long time.” She held out a hand. “What have you gotten me into here?”

  “Marcy, I’d have thought you’d have retired by now,” Zoya said, smiling broadly and offering her hand to shake.

  “Ach, you know how it is,” she said. “Grandkids have moved on. Nothing much else to do but try to keep the grinders grinding and the bills paid.”

  “This is my wingman, Natalya Regyri. Natalya, this is Marcy Thompson. Runs the best grinding op in Margary.”

  “Well, I did until that message came for Bean,” the old woman said. “What the hell is going on?”

  “We need him to help us assess Smelter Seventeen,” Zoya said. “Something’s gone wrong out there. No comms and their node is offline without explanation.”

  “Smelter Seventeen? Where’s that at?”

  “Out in the Toe-Holds,” Zoya said. “But you never heard it from me.”

  Thompson frowned and nodded. “Toe-Holds, eh. All right.” She nodded as if to herself a couple of times. “TIC really coming?”

  Zoya shrugged. “I can’t imagine they’d jump just because Usoko Mining said ‘frog’ but you never know.”

  The old woman chuckled. “True enough words there,” she said. “Well, come on. See if you can talk some sense into this kid.” She turned and headed for the lock. “Something sure as hell scared him.”

  Natalya shared a look with Zoya and they both followed Thompson. She led them deep into the station’s center and stopped in front of an airtight door. “He’s in there. Got something shoved through the dogging handle. Can’t budge it.”

  “Anybody in there with him?” Zoya asked.

  She shook her head. “Not that we’ve been able to tell. Rest of the crew’s accounted for.”

  “Comms?” Zoya asked.

  Thompson pointed to an intercom. “Press to talk.”

  Zoya stepped up to the speaker and took a deep breath before pressing the button. “Rob, hello?”

  After nearly a tick with no response, the speaker crackled. “Who are you? You weren’t supposed to dock.”

  “We didn’t have much choice,” Zoya said. “We need to talk with you and you won’t come to the comms, so we came to you.”

  The wait was shorter this time. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

  “Why?” Zoya asked. “Why do you think we’re here.”

  “You’ve come to toss me out into the cold.”

  Zoya looked around at Thompson and Natalya before pressing the button again. “Rob? I don’t know where you got that idea, but we’re not here to toss you anywher
e. What do you mean ‘the cold’?”

  “Into space,” he said. “You’re going to take me out to the Toe-Hold.”

  Zoya nodded to herself. “There’s been a bit of miscommunication, Rob. We’re not going to take you anywhere against your will.”

  “How can I trust you?”

  “Well, we could always stuff a can of sleep gas in the duct work and wait until you pass out, then burn the door down, but we’re really prefer it if you’d just talk to us first.”

  “The bulkhead would be faster,” he said. “Thinner metal.”

  Thompson chuckled. “Yeah. Smart as hell with as much common sense as a hull patch.”

  Zoya shook her head. “Look, I’m Zoya Usoko. I just want to talk to you. Can you open the door so we don’t have to play this intercom game?”

  “You’re who?”

  “My name is Zoya Usoko.”

  “Zoya left.”

  “I’m back.”

  “Can you prove it?”

  “Well, I’m standing here pressing this talk-key.”

  “Anybody could be doing that. How do I know it’s really you?”

  Zoya looked at Natalya and shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said. “Ask me a question that only Zoya would know?”

  “That won’t work,” he said. “It has to be something I’d know, too.”

  “Ya can’t fault his logic,” Thompson said.

  “So ask me a question that you know,” Zoya said.

  “Who was your first mate on the Madeline Dere?”

  “I was never on the Madeline Dere,” Zoya said.

  “What’s your father do?”

  “Runs a mining barge,” Zoya said. “Freelancer. Last I heard he was here in Margary.”

  “Where’s Furtner?”

  Zoya swallowed hard and pressed the button. “Emile Furtner died on the bridge of the Zvezda Moya. Right now his dust drifts in space where he wanted it to be.”

  A long silence followed her statement. It ended with a metal-on-metal scraping, then the dogging handle lifted and the door swung open. A young man stepped out. “Sorry, Marcy. I wouldn’t have hurt the station.”