The idler poisoning his blood
supply with the stim tube turned his glazed eyes in my direction, pointing his
fingers at me like a gun and mimed shooting me. Thanks for the warning. I
considered removing his larynx with the stim tube, but he was so
toxxed
, he probably would have enjoyed it. The smart thing
to do would have been to get back to the ship, but I really needed to sharpen
the
Lining’s
teeth, so I went inside expecting
a reception committee when I came back out.
Armin’s Armaments was a warehouse
covering three levels with armed guards at every door and autoturrets in every ceiling.
I didn’t have to hand in my gun as I entered – there was no need. Signs
everywhere warned customers not to touch their weapons, otherwise the autoturrets
would open fire. For my personal safety, they would immediately kill anyone who
acted unsafely – including me. Very comforting! It was hardly surprising
Armin’s had a reputation for being the most peaceful place in either gray zone.
A pity there was only one way in or out.
Being careful to keep my hands
where the autoturrets could see them, I wandered through ordered galleries
displaying everything from tiny pinhole stunners small enough to fit inside a
woman’s purse to holographic displays of ship based heavy weapons that would have
been at home on an Earth Navy battle cruiser. For several hours, automated vending
machines explained in excruciating detail the technical specs of dozens of ship
borne weapons small enough to replace the
Lining’s
feeble particle cannon.
Eventually I found a vending
machine talking my language.
“The Celestial Dynamics KD-496
Proton Burst Cannon may be optionally fitted with a fully insulated, multi-phase
capacitor guaranteed to limit thermal emissions to less than one point eight percent
during charge cycles.”
In other words, a stealth cannon
– exactly what I was looking for. The price was obscene and the cycle time slow,
but the sneaky charge capacitor allowed the burster to power up undetected by
Earth-tech sensors. The Tau Cetins would know in a nanosecond if the weapon was
active, but as I was never going to do anything as stupid as shoot at them,
that hardly mattered. The burster hit like a weapon three times its size at a
respectable range, which made it a good match for the
Silver Lining
’s main defenses: her speed and her shield.
Kicking an adversary in the pants
and running like hell was my kind of fighting.
It made no sense to put such an
expensive piece of kit on a ship as small as the
Lining
, which is why no potential foe would expect it. Fortunately,
Lena could afford it – and I figured she owed me. After receiving Armin’s rock
solid guarantee the weapon would be delivered to the
Lining’s
cargo hold within the hour, I made a significant dent in
the EIS vault-key’s balance, then went downstairs to the urban warfare section
and bought an apple.
I expected the idler with the
alpha wave scanner to be outside with his friends, so I needed something to
keep them away. The small spherical device was just large enough to fit inside
my hand without being noticed and its effective radius was small enough not to
turn half the station against me.
“How many G-Max Sensory Assault Grenades
do you require, sir?” the silver, multi-armed vending machine asked, holding up
the demonstration model for me to inspect.
“Just one.”
“They come in a box of twelve,
sir. I am not permitted to split packs.”
“OK, I’ll take a box.”
“Would you like them delivered to
your ship with your other purchases?” the vending machine asked politely. It
was perfect for dispensing information and taking orders, but lacked any real
intelligence.
“I’ll take one with me, deliver
the rest.”
“Very well sir. The activation
code will be automatically loaded into the device as you leave the store.
Internal guard systems have been advised the weapon is currently inactive.”
“Thanks,” I said, relieved to
know the autoturrets wouldn’t shoot my arm off the moment I touched the
grenade.
“We offer a full range of intensive
urban assault courses, sir. These courses are recommended if you require
training in deployment techniques for your high quality, money back guaranteed munitions
in a manner designed to achieve maximum effect.”
“Thanks. I’ve got it covered.”
“As you wish, sir,” the vending
machine said, then one of its flexible arms handed me a G-Max SAG. I hadn’t
used a weapon like it in years, but they were relatively simple to activate,
and for the ultra-reflexed, easy to throw accurately. “Do you require any other
assistance, sir? We have a special on TNK Body Armor. Today only. All sizes.
Would you like to try a set on, sir?”
“Some other time,” I said, heading
for the exit with the grenade hidden in the palm of my hand.
The moment I stepped through the
door, my threading drew a red targeting reticule around the face of the idler I’d
DNA locked earlier. He stood across the street with a group of shaven headed
thugs, each with a pair of thunderbolts tattooed on their foreheads in a “V”
formation. They carried metal pipes with handles – electro-shock clubs – nasty
thug weapons capable of inflicting excruciating pain, but not fatal wounds.
Several had handguns, still holstered, telling me they were here to take me
alive. The tallest and heaviest of the group had his back to me. At the
promptings of his companions, he turned towards me. Like the others, Heiko
Krieger had the same distinctive V-shaped gang insignia tattooed on his
forehead and additional matching thunderbolts striking down from his dark eye
sockets.
We locked eyes on each other,
then he said, “That’s him!”
I sensed movement behind me. An electro-shock
club jabbed me in the back, sending a neuroelectric charge coursing into my
spine and hurling me onto the street. I lost muscle control and collapsed onto
the metal floor. My threading detected the attack and kept my fingers locked
around the grenade by overriding my nervous system. By the time my body started
to respond, Heiko and his gaggle of muscle-modded sycophants were all around
me. He kicked me in the stomach with metal tipped boots, spinning me around
onto my back. A threading status message flashed before my eyes, informing me
my ribs were bruised, but not broken. Half a dozen shock clubs began pounding
me, all set to low intensity so they wouldn’t stop my heart. My threading,
sensing the assault, blocked my pain receptors sending my body numb while my keeping
my fingers clamped on the small metal sphere in the palm of my hand.
When they finally stopped jabbing
me with their torture sticks, Heiko leaned down towards my face. “I’ve been
waiting for you, Kade!”
I tried to open my mouth to
compliment him on his dental work, but all I could manage was an indignant
gurgling sound.
“My brother and I are going to
keep you alive for a long, long time.” Heiko and Kord were kings of the local
protection racket. I hadn’t intended to kill Niklaus, their uglier older brother,
but he’d left me no choice. “But you won’t be lonely. You’re going to make a
lot of friends where you’re going, the kind who like raw . . . red . . . meat.”
Heiko grinned viciously, stroking
my cheek with his shock club. I could feel my skin pinching from the neuroelectric
shock, but my threading’s pain blockers spared me the worst of it. A puzzled
look slowly appeared on his face as he began to realize something was wrong.
ENABLE SPEECH, I thought. When my
threading gave me vocal control, I said, “Lower . . . and to the left . . . Hmm,
better!”
Heiko scowled and removed the
shock club from my face, grabbing my jaw with his free hand. “You
toxxed
out, Kade?”
“Yeah, by your smell!” I sniffed
experimentally. “Don’t you ever get to wash down here?”
Heiko gave me an astonished look.
“You are one dumb, smart mouthed freak!” Heiko sneered. “You’re going to spend
the rest of your life in a tiny little cage, Kade! Except when we bring you out
to play.” He jabbed me again with his shock club, twisting it spitefully as my
body convulsed.
I opened my mouth, feigning an
inability to speak.
Heiko withdrew and shock club and
leaned closer. “What?”
ENABLE FULL MOTOR CONTROL, I
thought, overriding my threading, then when his face was close, I said, “I . .
. don’t . . . like . . . cages,” and smashed my forehead into his nose.
Heiko fell back, hand over his snout
as blood began seeping through his fingers.
SUPPRESS OPTICAL, THREE SECONDS!
I thought, pressing the grenade’s detonator and letting it roll free of my hand.
My threading shut off the optical
feed from my eyes, giving me nothing but blackness, while the grenade jetted up
off the ground to eye height and emitted a blinding white pulse. It was longer
than a simple flash and intensely white, yet completely silent.
My vision returned as the grenade
clattered to the ground, its power supply exhausted. Everyone in the street was
doubled over, hands on eyes, some groaning, some screaming, all temporarily
blind. I staggered to my feet while Heiko and his little band of torturers stumbled
around me stunned. All had dropped their electro-shock clubs in their rush to
press their hands to their eyes.
I picked up
Heiko’s
inactive club, tripped his ankle with it and sent him face first onto the deck.
While he lay there holding his eyes, I tapped him lightly on the back of the
head with the club. “Heiko, watch your step!”
“I’m going to kill you, Kade!”
“Not today you’re not.” I flipped
him over with my boot, turned the electro-shock club on and ramped the power to
maximum, then slid it under his back.
Heiko’s
body began to shake uncontrollably as neuroelectric pulses twitched
his muscles so fast, he couldn’t roll away from the club. He’d be stuck
bouncing like that until one of his girlfriends could see well enough to switch
it off.
I leaned towards him. “This was
fun, Heiko, but let’s not do it again.”
I straightened, stretching
shock-stressed muscles and walked stiffly towards the elevator. Once Kord found
out his brother had been stomped on, they’d both come looking for me with their
assorted friends. I’d have to put Izin on guard duty at the airlock, just in
case they tried to get aboard ship. He’d like that.
Izin was, after all, an ambush
predator extraordinaire.
* * * *
There was a message waiting for me from the
Beneficial Society when I got back to the
Silver
Lining
. A report had been logged with Axon Control that a Caravel D class
medium freighter had been sighted adrift near navpoint two along the Outer Lyra
passage. It hadn’t been showing a transponder and was close to where we’d
detected the unknown contact on our way in. Now that I knew the contact was the
same class as Marie’s ship, there was no doubt in my mind we’d detected the
Heureux
without realizing it!
I contacted Axon Control and asked
if they’d sent a rescue ship, but they informed me they had none to send. When
I offered to investigate, they gladly gave me the sighting report. That’s when
I smelled a rat. The report had been logged by the
Soberano
a few hours before we arrived at Axon! They hadn’t docked,
just done a flyby, calling it in from distance. That’s why it had taken so long
for the Society to hear about it.
It was unlikely the Ravens would
have caught Marie napping, but if they had, the
Heureux
wasn’t equipped to fight. The old freighter was a rugged
workhorse, lightly armed, but no match for a combat ship. Like most freighters,
she was equipped to fast bubble, to escape before being forced to fight. So why
hadn’t she used it? Had a Raven been waiting inside the navpoint safe zone? They
normally prowled out near the edges to avoid navy patrols and collisions with
incoming ships.
Or had the
Soberano
attacked the
Heureux?
It was possible, but I doubted even Vargis would shoot up a defenseless
freighter, and if he had, why risk retribution from the navy by calling in the
sighting? After detecting the
Heureux
,
he may have decided not to risk his ship, knowing the Ravens would see the
Soberano
as the catch of a lifetime.
Anxious to get back out there, I
met Izin and Jase in engineering to show them the message.
“Izin, I want you to install the
new burster while we’re underway.” It had been loaded aboard only minutes
before my return, yet in that time Izin had already examined the parts and read
the technical manuals. He was a quick study.
“The hull crawlers can work in
shifts,” Izin said, “to limit their exposure to bubble heat.”
“Good. How long will it take?”
“Six weeks.”
After all the time I’d spent
picking the perfect weapon, studying every stat, calculating every possible
tactical use, the one thing I hadn’t considered was how long it would take my
tamph engineer to install it. “You’ve got two hours.” That’s how long it would
take us to get back to the navpoint where the
Heureux
was adrift.