Gabriel's Ghost (38 page)

Megan Sybil Baker - 187

The double red light on the wall ahead signaled a ladder. I headed for it, stopped just short of it and touched Sully’s arm. “The double lights,” I whispered. “Down or up, they—”

His hand clamped over my mouth just as a noisy clang sounded followed by several short clanks. A light flashed above us as an accessway opened. We flattened ourselves against the walls.

A woman’s voice sounded harsh, tired. “Goddamned breaker feeds. Think they’d invent one that’d last more than two goddamned weeks.”

Another voice, unintelligible but male, filtered in from the corridor.

“Yeah, yeah, budget. Well, screw budget,” she answered. There was more clanking, then a hissing sound and a loud clank.

Then darkness.

I let out my breath in a long rush. “Sully—”

“Hush, Chasidah.” Fingers against my lips.
Listen
.

I listened.

Let me link with you. There is safety in this. No sounds from us as we move, but no lapse ininformation either.

I started to open my mouth to speak but caught my action.
You can do this, without touching
me
? I was used to the occasional mental comments that accompanied his touch, but didn’t know he could keep a constant link with me especially when we were single file on a narrow walkway. I wasn’t a Stolorth, or
Ragkir
. Then I remembered his angry probe spearing my thoughts when we’d encountered the
Morgan Loviti
.

I can, yes
. He hesitated for a moment and I damned the uncertainty he no doubt had sensed in my mind.
Will you be comfortable with this
?

Yes. No problems
. After all, he’d also been in my mind when we made love.

Okay
. I felt his smile, his warmth.
Got it
.

I reached for the ladder. Stopped and put my fingers instead on his arm.
Sully
?

Yes, Chasidah
.

All my thoughts
? When we made love, I was focused on him. But I belatedly realized now that our current situation might lend itself to some rather undiplomatic thoughts on my part from time to time. I’d be in the captain-mode, not lover-mode. I didn’t want him hurt by the kind of things he’d uncovered when we’d met up with Philip’s ship.

Except for emergencies, your touch or mine is the signal
.

I climbed down first, Sully following. Reached Level 28’s grated, narrow platform. Swung off the ladder, grabbed the handholds, scooted sideways.

Touch.
Blue’s across the way
, I told him.
Yellow’s closer
.

Double or nothing
?

Oh, shut up
.

It took us five minutes to go a quarter of the way around the core, almost to the single bank of lifts between Yellow and Blue. There were no more interruptions, no more flashes of light. Only the clank and clatter and hiss of a station at work.

I stopped at the third access panel, its handle painted yellow as the one we’d entered through was painted green. It was difficult to see in the dim lighting but then maintenance techs all had handbeams. We did too, but not to use right now. Not unless we had to.

Touch.
Mid-point here
, I told him. We had to exit the access, unseen, and cross the corridor. Blend into any stationers passing by, our jackets covering our weapons.

Megan Sybil Baker - 188

He fingered the access lock.
Ready
?

I nodded. He pulled it back an inch. I listened, held up one hand when I heard footsteps, forgetting I could send my thoughts. The footsteps faded.

Touch. I remembered this time.
Okay
.

He slid the access hatch sideways. We slipped through, straightening quickly as if we just stepped from an office, not the core.

The corridor was quiet, though I could hear voices far behind us. Sully draped on arm over my shoulder, pinning my braid down. I reached back and flipped it out. He snugged me closer. Just two freighter crew or techs on break, catching a little body-heat time.

Windowless metal doors studded the bulkhead on our left. Some had names. In-system Datatronics. Alexander Sound and Vid. Storage Locker 6-Yellow.

We were looking for Storage Bay 10-Yellow.

A man in a blue lab coat walked quickly by, head down, eyes on the datapad in his hand. I turned casually as he passed to read the letters on the back of his coat. In-system Datatronics.

What did I expect, Jukor Gen-Labs?

Probably won’t say Crossley Burke, either
.

Quit peeking
!

Gentle laughter filtered through his link with me.
Sorry
.

Sorry, my ass
.

We can discuss that as well, if you like. But later
.

I elbowed him. So much for a subtle touch signaling my thoughts.

But I knew what he was doing. My heart pounded. I’d crossed nervous when we’d left our appropriated office on Level 27. I was into scared that could head easily into panic, Fleet training or no. He was trying to keep me relaxed, trying to keep me from focusing on the fact that I had to face a jukor again.

Only fools, as Amaris had taught me, had no fears. And jukors, winged hellspawned demons that were immune even to the mind talents of a
Ragkiril
, ranked right up there on the top of my list.

Storage Bay 9.

We slowed. I could see a wide set of doors about ten feet ahead of us on the left. I sniffed. Nothing. We came closer. I sniffed again. Jukors had a rank, rotting smell. Though how someone wouldn’t notice, and inquire, had probably already been considered by Cousin Hayden and friends. They’d have to have put powerful air recyclers in place.

Storage Bay 10. Doors were locked, in need of painting. But the dust on the decking was mottled, unlike the undisturbed coating of dust in front of Storage Bay 9.

Someone had walked through those doors, recently.

Sully slowed, stopping a few feet past. Touch.
Wait
. One hand rested on my shoulder, the other in his pocket. He pulled out a handful of lightpens and dropped them on the floor. Then bent down to pick them up.

Innocent and not uncommon situation.

I stooped to help.

His eyes were infinite, dark. He stared over my shoulder as I picked up the pens, one by one. Something hazed, flickered over his face, briefly, very briefly. If I hadn’t seen it before, I wouldn’t have noticed it.

Gray fuzzy soft.

Megan Sybil Baker - 189

Then it was gone. He pulled me to my feet and pushed us onward.

Touch.
No
.

No
? Disappointment mixed with relief.
That means 17-Blue
.

Great. There goes my shot at double or nothing
.

The arm draped over my shoulder seemed to weigh a little heavier this time.

We crossed into Blue. Our target was another storage bay. This one was numbered 17.

More offices, more repair shops. Many more doors with no names. Several storage lockers and bays. We almost collided with two stripers exiting from one, a pallet between them loaded with boxes labeled ‘toilet paper.’

I scooted sideways as soon as I saw the uniforms.
Shit
!

Prophetic, that
.

Oh, shut up.

Yes, my angel
.

The stripers didn’t even look twice at us. Marker Shipyards had always prided itself on its security. If you were on M-2, then you’d been cleared and belonged here.

Storage Bay 15. 16. Then 17, only a few steps away. I was prepared for the routine this time: pens scattering to the floor and both of us bending down. Sully turned. His eyes seemed incredibly dark, incredibly distant. I caught the faint shimmer of something silvery. But for a few seconds longer this time.

I tried sniffing but smelled only dust this close to the decking. But here too, the dust in front of 17 was blotchy.

Sully straightened, slowly, took the pens I offered, pocketing them absently. His arm clasped tightly around my shoulders, moving me on. We walked.

Sully
?

No answer. His eyes were still dark, no difference between pupil and iris but all obsidian. Hard.

We kept walking.

Sully
?

A minute
.

My heart started pounding, hard. I waited and felt as if my throat wanted to close up.

He pulled me into a side corridor and pushed my back against the wall, his body covering mine. I could feel him breathing hard, almost rasping now. I raised my hands to his shoulders. To anyone passing by, we were lovers, catching that serious body-heat time.

He closed his eyes, his lips resting against my forehead. Then his finger touched my mouth.
Chasidah
?

I nodded, waited, listened. Heard one word.

Yes
.

Chapter Thirty

A shudder spasmed through me.

Yes. Jukors. Not twenty feet from where we stood. Jukors.

Up until that moment, part of me still felt we might be wrong, prayed we were wrong. The holo of the mangled body of the Taka woman had been faked. Or the result of something else.

But it wasn’t. Sully’s hard ‘yes’ was final. Through that one word, I could feel he was as shaken as I was.

He didn’t want to believe it, either.

We stood for a few seconds longer then quickly broke apart. We knew where they were. We needed to get back to the schematics, find a way to get in there. We headed for the closest core access, slipped in. Now, it was best to be seen as little as possible in the corridors. Best someone not recognize us, having seen us before.

We found the first ladder, went uplevel. We were still in Blue when we reached Level 27.

Touch.
This way
. I took him through Red, looping around the main lift shafts jutting out, with narrow walkways between the three banks. No walls here on the backside of the lifts, though, just a high railing on one side, a lower railing on the other. It opened to a wide chasm of darkness below.

I had a reason. Touch.
Emergency shut off for the main lifts, here. If we’re spotted, if stripers
are called, shut down the lifts. Won’t stop them, but will slow them down. They never think to use
the core
.

A lift whizzed by us, wind whipping our clothing, my hair, momentarily blocking the thin stripe of light from the corridor. I grabbed the railing but Sully stood still, perfectly balanced as if the forced rush of air bothered him not at all. He nodded.

We moved on.

Green. I counted access panels and found ours. We knelt down. Sully touched the access lock, touched me.
Ready
?

An inch of light cracked into our darkness. I listened, then nodded.
Clear
.

We moved quickly, the access panel sliding closed just as the office door opened, Ren ushered us in.

Coincidence? Then I remembered. Sully had a link with Ren, too.

I stood in the middle of the room and wrapped my arms around my chest. Small explosive charges were in a neat stack, like ten tiny party favors, at my feet. Hell of a surprise party.

All were keyed for remote activation. All were short range and shouldn’t pierce the station’s hull. But should, very effectively, dismantle anything inside a closed storage bay. The poison gas released before that would kill any living creature within twenty-five feet in seconds. We had to get into the lab, plant the charges and seal enviro to keep the gas from leaking out. And we had to leave, alive.

Megan Sybil Baker - 191

I stood, hugging myself, listening to Sully confirm to Ren that Hell indeed lived on Level 28 Blue of Marker Two.

“Two breeding pair.” Sully positioned himself as if he faced the lab, showing me, telling Ren. “Here, on the right. Narrow, deep cages. A trough of some kind, fluid or liquid, not water.” He etched a line in the air with his hand.

“Takas?” Ren asked.

“One female. She’s… she’s in the advanced stages of pregnancy.” He wiped one hand over his face, visibly distressed. “The infant has already started to consume her. She’s in constant agony. She’s—” He glanced at me, his gaze almost pleading. “I’ll need time to put her down. Peacefully.”

I nodded. “You’ll have it.” As if I had any control of what would happen when we got in there. But I knew he needed my permission to do what he had to do. To be what he was. What he couldn’t change.
Ragkirils
could heal. But they could also kill.

I glanced at my watch. Six hours. We had six hours to meet-point. No, five. We couldn’t assume we’d catch the first shuttle. We had to allow a half-hour, an hour to get back to Marker Terminal.

And pray no one followed us or tried to stop us.

I uncrossed my arms and lowered myself onto the floor next to the datapad. It clicked softly as I flipped it open. “Storage Bay 17-Blue, Level 28. Outer location means we can’t access it through the core. But it’s a bay. That means higher ceilings and a larger clearance area above that for overhead access to equipment. And if it was ever used for ship repair....” I tabbed through the schematics, brought up Level 28 only. “Shit. No maintenance pits underneath. We have to find an enviro hatch, come in through the overhead. Trickier. Weight will be a problem. It will be crawling all the way. That’s going to slow us down.”

“Only going in,” Sully said wryly. He sat on the floor next to me. Ren was next to him.

Going in really was our only problem. Going out we’d use the main bay doors. Quickly.

“Guards? Med-techs?” Ren asked.

“One lab tech, human, male,” Sully answered. “Right now. In a private office, on the left. I’ll take him out, get the Taka. You two handle the charges.”

I paged through the schematics while he spoke, hoping to find some easier way in, like a tandem bay. Some of them were built that way, with false walls, moveable for expansion. But not Storage Bay 17-Blue.