Greenshift (16 page)

David scanned the dock area. “You
see a spot close to the six hundred block of berths?”

“I don’t even see any signs
coming in from this side,” Sean said.

Neither did David so he headed
for the nearest slip.

He killed the throttle at the
last minute, bumping the fast track into the slot without any of the finesse
the sleek boat deserved. Both men hit the dock and bolted. Onlookers jumped out
of their way as David and Sean pushed past. Once inside the main flow of
pedestrian traffic, they stopped for a moment, confused as the docks split off
in a half moon with six different spokes leading to hundreds of huge berths.

This industrial side of Shiraz looked
like its own city, some of the larger space-faring ships looming so high they
created pockets of dark shadows along the boardwalk. It was intimidating in its
immensity—lights flashed in a spectrum of colors from ships all around them, signaling
various stages of docking or launching, and the noise level was nearly
deafening. Exhaust fumes wafted over them from several faulty converters as David
cast a glance over the signs.

“Six hundred block is this
way.” Sean took off down the closest boardwalk.

Each time an in-atmosphere engine
roared to life, David’s heart stuttered. He watched each ship slowly drift out
over the open water, clear of the docks and ferries, until they could safely
engage their break away engines and punch out of the atmosphere. Each ignition
flare made him realize that Mari was already too far away. His only relief came
from knowing the
Bard
was a faster ship than the
Thrall
.

They came up on berth six-one-seven
when David spotted four contractors on patrol ahead. Maybe he should enlist the
authorities’ help after all. He almost changed course when he saw the third
cender strapped to one contractor’s thigh.

Killian zeroed in on David before
he could duck away.

David gave Sean’s arm a small
punch. “This way. Company up ahead.”

They veered around a towering
science vessel—the real kind, not what the
Bard
pretended to be.
Multiple antenna arrays and in-atmosphere vents bristled along the ship’s black
metal shell, casting shadowy quills along the stained concrete. David and Sean
wove around the reinforced titanium beast.

Though the docks would connect on
the other side, David wanted to move past one more berth in case Killian or the
others had decided to cut them off. He led Sean between a cargo loader’s huge
claw, which sported only a smudge of its original yellow paint, and the dingy
freighter it was unloading. This should be far enough from their original
position to merge back into dock traffic.

There was only one more freighter
left. It had to be the
Thrall 7
. David’s heart sped up with hope. Then
he saw the bright glow of warming engines. The ship could make its run for the
lift-off area any time.

He broke cover. The quickest way
to Mari was straight down the main pedestrian thoroughfare. He could deal with
Killian later.

David felt the hairs on his arms
and on the back of his neck stand on end and try to pull away from his skin.
Only one thing caused that dreadful sensation.

“Cender!”

He and Sean dove for cover behind
a weathered cargo container, but the concentrated bolt of static electricity
caught David across the back, scorching his shirt and a strip of skin
underneath.

“What the hell?” Sean
asked.

“That little shit Ward is scratching
an itch.” David barely felt the burn on his back as he heard the
Thrall
‘s
secondary engines whine into high gear, the last stage of pre-flight.

“Get away from me.”
Mari’s panicked voice echoed around the metallic walls of the commonway as big
hands grasped her forearm and yanked her back hard.

Carlos dragged her away from any
possible escape. The freighter shook as the engines powered higher—they were going
to take off.

She pounded her fist against Carlos’
bicep and pulled at his thick fingers to free herself, but it was like fighting
a boulder. She kicked at his leg, managed to lose her balance and fell. He
never stopped, banging her knees off the floor and rubbing away the skin on her
ankles. She lost her shoes in the scramble to regain her footing.

“Let go of me. Someone help
me. Please.”

Trying a new approach, she
grabbed at the corrugated walls, but the metal only sliced into her fingers as
Carlos continued unimpeded. Out of desperation, she threw her foot in front of his,
tripping him. He stumbled but didn’t go down. Jerking her toward him, he
slammed her against the wall so hard her teeth shook. The cold steel sucked the
warmth from her body.

Mari couldn’t speak, couldn’t
scream, just stared into Carlos’ hazel eyes, trying to see a glimmer of mercy.

“Don’t be stupid, you
freaky-eyed bitch,” Carlos said. “We’re in the last stages of takeoff.
You’d never be able to breach that seal if you tried. All you’re doing is
hurting yourself and making me look like a fool.” His grip tightened
around her shoulders, his fingers pushing into her muscles until she wanted to
cry. “I won’t play the fool for anyone.”

He slammed her into the wall
again, then dropped her. The hard rubber surface stung against the balls of her
bare feet.

“What are you going to do with
me?” she asked, hating the dread she heard in her own voice.

Carlos snatched her by the back
of the neck and jostled her ahead.

Dale waited for them where her
failed escape attempt began. She didn’t expect him to give her any more answers
than Carlos, but she needed to ask.

“What are you going to do
with me?”

“We’re going to strap you in
for takeoff.” He motioned for Carlos to drive her forward again.

“Why are you doing this? I
don’t want to be here with you. I don’t want anything to do with you.”

Dale gave a harsh laugh. “And
you think I want anything to do with you? I can have any woman I want. There’s
nothing that interests me about you except that some rich psychopath is willing
to pay for a Deleinean woman with orange eyes.”

“My eyes aren’t
orange.” The snip surprised her. She had had to deal with insults and
teasing all her life. The defensiveness from childhood bullying came back easily,
almost involuntarily.

“Well, whatever color you
want to call them, they’re not natural.”

That’s how Dale looked at her,
like some diseased mongrel, even though her blood was as pure Upper Caste as
his. But if her genes had been strong, he would reason, her eyes wouldn’t have
changed.

“To my client, your
un-natural state makes you an oddity. He collects oddities, uses them, destroys
them for his own pleasure. And do you know what he does to women with orange
eyes?”

“What?” Mari asked in a
whisper.

“He plucks them right out of
their heads.”

She couldn’t process what Dale
was saying. This wasn’t real. She was having a nightmare. All she needed to do
was wake up and David would be sleeping right beside her. She could curl up
next to him, and he’d make this horrible dream all go away.

Reality crashed down upon her as Carlos
pushed her toward an open door on their left where a crash couch waited.

“Who’s this guy you’re
talking about? Why would he want to do that to me? Please tell me where we’re
going,” she shouted.

Panic overtook her. As soon as
Carlos loosened his grip, she twisted free and pummeled Dale in the head. Drawing
her arm back, she punched him in the nose, sending a blast of pain through her knuckles.
Dale recoiled, covering his face. She rained blow after blow on his head, fighting
like a wild woman and somehow evading Carlos, who was caught on the other side
of the fight. Dale brought his elbow up to block her assault, then jammed the
edge of it into her jaw. The blow sent her head snapping backward, ending her
struggle and allowing Carlos to restrain her.

He held her arms pinned behind
her. Dale wiped blood from his nose. “You stupid, little bitch.” He slapped
her across the cheek, then shoved his face so close to hers she smelled the
eggs he had had for breakfast. His face burned bright red.

“This is my ship,” he
screamed, spittle flying from his lips. “You do what I say.”

She flinched and shook from the
sudden surge of adrenaline.

“I thought your Armadan would
have taught you more about obedience.”

Mari mustered a defiance she
didn’t feel and stared at Dale. “David’s not like that.”

“Well, Carlos is. He won’t
hesitate to give you a lesson in respect.”

She stared at the big man, knowing
from the scowl on his face that this was no idle threat.

Carlos shoved her into a seat as
though she were a child and pulled the heavy canvas restraints across her
chest, smashing her breasts with his forearm. She bit her lip against the pain,
not wanting to give either of the men the satisfaction of seeing her hurt and
humiliated. He cinched the straps down so hard she fought for shallow breaths.
Her hands fumbled at the straps.

Carlos forced them down at her
sides. She kicked at him as he secured her arms with the adjoining strap. When
she made contact with his groin, he grabbed her by the throat.

“Before you leave this ship,”
he whispered, “I’m going to hurt you in ways you never knew a man could
hurt a woman.”

She couldn’t move—she could
hardly breathe.

Carlos and Dale settled in beside
her.

The surge of takeoff pushed her
further into her seat, making it almost impossible to draw a breath. She tried
to suck air into her lungs, her heart pounding in her ears, but the restraints crushed
her. She feebly tried to dislodge them with her hands. The g-force worked
against her and the blackness of suffocation sparkled in front of her vision. This
couldn’t be happening. Her mind went blank as a freakish calm swept over her and
she lost her battle with consciousness.

I lost her
.

The
Thrall
‘s engines pitched
higher and the concrete beneath David’s feet vibrated. A huge shadow passed
overhead as the big ship pushed away from the dock and drifted out above the
ocean. It hit the launch lane in a matter of seconds. Once its main thrusters
kicked in, the
Thrall 7
lifted into the cloudless blue sky. It
accelerated with every kilometer, powering toward escape velocity.

“We have to get back to the
Bard
.
I can catch that ship.” David spun around, right into a cender planted in
his chest.

“The only place you’re going
is a holding cell.” It was the female contractor from earlier today. The
icy blue of her eyes matched her tone.

“On what charges?”
David asked. Had they already found out about the stolen fast track?

“An illegal docking.”

“Sounds kinky,” Sean
said. “I don’t think he’s into that kind of shit.”

As soon as the dark-haired woman
glanced in Sean’s direction, David grabbed her wrist and twisted. The cender tumbled
to the concrete where Sean scrambled for it, but this contractor wasn’t as green
as Ward. She kicked the weapon under the cargo container and jammed the top of
her head into David’s jaw.

Blood swam in David’s mouth. He
squeezed her wrist tighter, working her bones against the tendons. Gritting her
teeth against the pain, she went for her full holster. Sean got to it first.
But as he drew the pistol, the contractor used David’s own weight against him
and spun him into Sean, knocking the two men into the metal container wall.

David lost his grip on her wrist,
allowing her to curl away and land a kick to Sean’s chest. Before he could
recover, she smashed his hand against the ungiving cargo container to disarm
him. Another contractor swung around the side.

The last thing David saw before
tackling the female was Sean jamming his elbow into the male contractor’s face.

The female went limp when David’s
weight slammed her to the concrete. He scanned the area for her second cender.
All he saw was Ward running straight for him, both cenders aimed at his head. David
rolled off the female just before a pair of static bolts sizzled by. He scrambled
for cover behind a pile of discarded pallets.

Sean and his opponent exchanged
blows and kicks in David’s periphery, but David kept his focus on Ward.

“You want to find out who
the better man is, Ward? Put down those guns and face me in a fair fight,”
David yelled. “Or don’t you have the balls?”

David hoped to goad the young man
into a hand to hand engagement. A seasoned contractor would never take the bait
because they’d know better than to give up a tactical advantage and their
weapons. But David counted on Ward’s need to prove himself to the big kids.

“Guns are holstered, Anlow.
Any time you’re ready.”

“Not that I don’t trust you,
but I want to hear them hit the dock.” He didn’t have time for this. Mari
was hurtling further away from the planet each second he spent dicking around
with these assholes. And every second it became more difficult to hold his
anger in check.

Two clunks of metal on concrete prompted
David into action. He flew from behind the pallets, knowing Ward could have
drawn him out with only the promise of fighting fair, but David’s rush to get
to Mari made him chance it.

He wasn’t prepared for the scene in
front of him.

Sean stood over the male
contractor’s body. Blood trickled from the blonde hair at Sean’s temple, out of
one side of his nose, and down his right arm. But David was most concerned that
Killian stood behind Sean, one of his cenders pointing at the mech tech’s head,
the other trained on David.

How could you be so stupid,
Anlow?

He’d given up his advantage and
broken a cardinal rule of engagement by rushing back into this fray blind. Now
Killian had him right where he’d wanted him since they borrowed that berth
space. So David was more surprised than anyone when Killian lowered his weapon,
at least the one he held on David.