“Do we have a deal?” a smiling Deebank asked.
“Absolutely. My colleagues will start lifting your people off. Possessed to the nearest world which Capone has seeded; non-possessed
to the Edenists.”
The haggard non-possessed nearest to the AV pillar broadcasting the link up heaved a huge sigh of relief. The news was passed
on back to their hostage families.
Deebank and Rocio carried on their negotiations. The evacuation would be staged. First the refinery had to be checked out
thoroughly for long-term continuous operation, any modifications to be made before the crews left. Mechanoids had to be adapted
for specialised maintenance work. Technicians would stay on to train the disappointingly few hellhawk possessors who laid
claim to a scientific background. The asteroid’s fusion generators were to be overhauled for similar long-term duties. Vast
quantities of raw hydrocarbon chemicals for the refinery were to be prepared and stored in tanks which had yet to be fabricated.
Fuel supply reserves of deuterium and He3 were to be established so they could feed the remaining generators (not a problem
now the settlement’s biosphere cavern was to be powered down).
We can begin,
Rocio told Pran Soo.
Get our core sympathisers on high orbit patrol out here. They’ve just pulled transport duties. We can start ferrying the population
to a possessed world.
Do you want a general exodus to Almaden?
Not yet. We’ll keep this development to our group alone for now. It would be nice if more of us received a full weapons load
before the Organization realizes we’re deserting. Kiera is bound to try some kind of attack when she finds out.
There aren’t many of us who’ll follow her.
I know, but we play it safe. There’s no telling what that bitch is capable of.
Jed and Beth stood behind the lounge’s curving window, watching the hellhawks arrive. The creatures swooped down out of the
stars to land on the two remaining pedestals. Blunt cylindrical crew buses trundled over the ledge, airlock tubes extending
eagerly to mate with the life support capsule hatches.
A small square in the corner of the window shimmered with grey light and turned into Rocio’s smiling face. “Looks like we’ve
done it,” he said. “I want to thank you; especially you, Jed. I know this hasn’t been easy.”
“Are they coming on board?” Beth asked.
“No. I’m swallowing back to Monterey in a couple of hours. I’ll be missed if I don’t report back at the end of my patrol orbit.”
Jed’s arm went round Beth, instinctively protective. “You said you’d take us to one of the Edenist habitats,” he said.
“I will. All the non-possessed from Almaden will be handed over to them once our preparations here are finished. You’ll go
with them.”
“Why can’t we go first? We’re the ones who helped you. You just said.”
“Because I haven’t even spoken to the Edenists about this, yet. I don’t want their voidhawks showing up here and wrecking
everything. Just be patient. You have my word I’ll get you out of this.”
Rocio cancelled his link to the lounge and began to alter the shape of his distortion field. It pushed him up off the docking
pedestal, and he slipped away from the ledge. One of the hellhawks that had just swallowed in from New California passed him
as it swooped down towards the vacated pedestal. They exchanged excited smile images across the affinity band.
Rocio’s mood lifted further as he accelerated away from the asteroid. It was all coming together beautifully. His next priority
was gathering as many fully-armed hellhawks as possible and deploying them to guard Almaden. Then in another couple of days
he and Pran Soo would inform the remaining hellhawks about Almaden. Everyone would have to make their choice. He didn’t expect
many to stay with Kiera; Etchells, of course, probably Lopex; others who hadn’t come to terms with their new form, or didn’t
fully understand its potential. Not enough to ruin the plan.
He swallowed back to New California, resuming his highaltitude patrol orbit. The planet turned peacefully two million kilometres
below him. His distortion field swept out, carefully propagated ripples testing and probing the fabric of space-time. No voidhawks
within a hundred thousand kilometres. Nor was there any sign of stealthed weapons or sensor globes heading in towards the
Organization ships and stations. Nobody asked him where he’d been.
An internal sensor check showed him the young kids playing some kind of tag game along the main corridor. Jed and Beth were
in their cabin, screwing again. Rocio sighed fondly. What it was to be a teenager.
Two hours later, Hudson Proctor ordered him to report to the docking ledge.
What for?
Rocio asked.
I have enough nutrient fluid for now.
In fact, he had filled every fluid reserve bladder at Almaden. If they were calling him in ahead of schedule for a feed,
he’d have to vent it all before he got to Monterey.
We’re going to install some auxiliary fusion generators in your cargo bays,
Hudson Proctor said.
You’ve got the connections to receive power directly from them, haven’t you?
Yes. But why?
There’s a long-range mission being planned. You fit the parameters.
What mission?
Kiera will tell you when you’ve been prepped.
Will I be using combat wasps as well?
Yes, we’ll give you a full complement. They’ll be loaded at the same time as the fusion generators. Your lasers need checking,
too.
I’m on my way.
______
Al stared at Kiera, not quite believing she had the balls to turn up in his suite like this. Jez was at his side, arm tucked
through his; Mickey, Silvano, and Patricia were bunched up behind him, along with half a dozen soldiers. Kiera was backed
up by Hudson Proctor and eight of her goons on bodyguard duty. Animosity seeped out from both groups, thickening the air.
“You said it was urgent,” Al said.
Kiera nodded. “It is. Etchells has just returned.”
“That’s the hellhawk who ran from the antimatter station when things looked tough?”
“He didn’t run. He found out the Navy was up to something strange there. He thinks one of their ships was loaded with antimatter
before the station was destroyed. Afterwards, it rendezvoused with a voidhawk, and the two of them flew to Hesperi-LN. That’s
the Tyrathca world.”
“I heard of them. They’re like Martians, or something.”
“Xenocs, yes.”
“So what’s this got to do with us?”
“The voidhawk and the other ship were very interested in an old Tyrathca spaceship that’s orbiting Hesperi-LN. Etchells thinks
they put a team on board. After that, they took off for the Orion Nebula. That’s where the Tyrathca came from originally.
And it’s a long way away.”
“One thousand six hundred light-years,” Jezzibella said.
“So?” Al asked. He couldn’t work out her angle. “So what’s this got to do with us?”
“Think about it,” Kiera said. “We’re in the middle of the biggest crisis the human race has ever known. And the Confederation
Navy breaks the one law it enforces above all others. It actually helps fill a starship up with antimatter. Then that ship
and another fly somewhere no other human has ever been before. And they’re looking for something. What?”
“Fuck’s sake,” Al muttered. “How do I know?”
“It has to be something very, very important to them. Something the Tyrathca have got and the Navy wants. Bad enough to risk
a war. Etchells said they actually fired on the Tyrathca ships when they were orbiting Hesperi-LN. Whatever it is, they are
desperate to get their hands on it.”
“You trying to jerk me around here?” Al asked Kiera. He was losing his cool about the whole phoney meeting. Then, he always
did when the talk turned to that space and machines stuff he couldn’t quite follow. “We’ve been through all this superweapon
shit before. I sent Oscar Kern and some guys after that Mzu broad and an Alchemist bomb. Fuck lot of good that did me.”
“This is different,” Kiera insisted. “I don’t know exactly what the Navy’s after, but it has to be something they can use
against us. If it is a weapon, then it must be an extremely powerful one. Ordinary weapons are useless against us. If the
Navy does put together enough force to harm us, we just leave this universe behind. They know that, especially after Ketton.
We automatically protect ourselves; nothing can reach us on the other side. Nothing human, that is.”
“Ho boy; lady, have you ever changed your tune. Yesterday you were telling me how nothing the longhairs dream up could ever
touch us if we take New California out of here.”
“This is xenoc technology. We don’t know what it’s capable of.”
“This is bullshit,” Al said in exasperation. “Maybe. If. Perhaps. Might be. You got zip and you know it. Know what? I heard
this speech once before. The prosecution lawyer at my last trial used it. Everyone knew it was a bunch of crap then, and there
ain’t nothing changed since. And let me tell you, dark sister, you ain’t even as convincing as he was.”
“If the Confederation has something that can reach the planets we’ve removed, then we’ve already lost.”
“Yeah? What’s the matter, Kiera, running scared?”
“I can see I’m wasting my time. I should have known this was going to fly straight over your head.” She turned to go.
Al got a hold on his temper. “Okay. Hit me.”
“We send some ships after them,” Kiera said. “I’m already preparing three hellhawks for pursuit duty. Just forget about our
beef for one hour, and assign some of your frigates to go with them.”
“You mean frigates armed with antimatter,” Al said.
“Of course. We have to have superior firepower. If possible, we capture the Tyrathca weapon. If not, we destroy it along with
the Navy ships.”
Al chewed the idea over for a minute, enjoying the way Kiera got all antsy at the delay. “You want to cut a deal?” he asked.
“Okay, I’ll tell you what I’ll do for you, and this is only because you’ve come over all noble about our future. I’ll let
you have a couple of frigates; I’ll even arm them with half a dozen antimatter combat wasps each for you. How’s that?”
Kiera gave a relieved smile. “That’s good for me.”
“Glad to hear it.” Al’s grin shrank to nothing. “In return, all you gotta do is give me Webster.”
“What?”
“Webster fucking Pryor. That’s what.”
Kiera gave Hudson Proctor a confused look. The general shrugged with equal bewilderment. “Never heard of him,” he said.
“Then until you remember, it’s no deal,” Al said.
Kiera glared at him. For a moment, Al thought she was going to go for it.
“Fuckhead!” Kiera yelled. She spun round and stormed out.
“She’s sure got a way with words,” Al chuckled. “Real lady.”
Jezzibella couldn’t share his humour. She had a troubled expression on her face as she regarded the big doors that had closed
behind Kiera. “Maybe we should have a talk with Etchells ourselves,” she said. “Find out what the hell is going on.”
______
Everyone around Kiera kept very quiet as they took the lift up to the Hilton’s lobby. Her fury at Capone’s stupidity gradually
cooled to an iron-hard determination. Capone would have to be disposed of, and quickly. No question about it.
After that, there were new questions.
Etchells’s story bothered her badly. She simply couldn’t believe the Navy would send ships to the Orion Nebula without a very
good reason. It had to be connected to possession somehow. With a weapon as the obvious choice. Infuriatingly, if that was
the case, then Capone had been right all along about staying here and making a stand.
If she stuck with the original plan, to transfer the Organization down to New California and leave the universe, then there’d
be no way to counter any future developments which the Confederation might make. Always a factor, but now requiring more urgent
consideration.
And of course, once she gained control of the Organization fleet, she could dispatch a whole squadron of antimatterarmed frigates
to the Orion Nebula. But then, she’d have to go with them. A quick glance at Hudson Proctor confirmed that. He was loyal,
but only because she was the ride he’d chosen to get him to the top. Give him the chance to intercept a Tyrathca superweapon
by himself, and he’d do to her what she was about to do to Capone. It was a bad corner to be backed into.
The lift door opened and she strode out into the lobby. This section of the Hilton was actually embedded into the asteroid’s
rock, connecting the external tower structure with the rest of the habitation zone via a warren of corridors. Several Organization
gangsters were lounging around in the couches, drinking and talking as they were served by a non-possessed barkeeper. Three
more gangsters were leaning against the long reception desk as a team of non-possessed cleaners worked to clear up the last
of the trash left over from the Trafalgar victory party.
Kiera took it all in with a quick scan, trying not to let her tension show. She knew Capone’s people wouldn’t hassle her on
the way in. Getting out was something different altogether. All the gangsters had fallen silent, staring at her.
One of the exits led to a station serving Monterey’s small metro tube network. It would be the quickest way of returning to
the docking ledge territory she’d marked out as her own. But the carriages could be tampered with. Especially likely now they’d
found Bernhard Allsop.
“We’ll walk,” she announced to her entourage.
They pushed through the tall glass doors and went out into the wide public hall outside. Nobody tried to interfere or block
them. The few pedestrians in the hall gave them a wide berth as they marched along determinedly.
“How long until the hellhawks are refitted?” Kiera asked.
“Another couple of hours,” Hudson Proctor said. He frowned. “Jull von Holger says the SD sensors have lost track of the
Tamaran
. It was on high-orbit patrol.”