The Dying Light (Evergence 2)

Galine Four

‘955.01.20 EN

1575

Roche reached automatically for her side arm, only to encounter the hand of Synnett standing behind her. The silent security guard wrenched the weapon from its holster before she could even touch it. At the same time, the other security guards pointed their weapons at Haid. The Kesh standing behind him disarmed him before he could resist.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Roche said, trying hard to keep her voice level. She aimed her words at Disisto, but he wouldn’t look at her.

Field Officer Shak’ni stepped into the ring of security guards facing them.

“Morgan Roche and Ameidio Haid,” he said with barely concealed satisfaction, “you are jointly charged with violating restricted space in contravention of quarantine laws. You are also charged with conspiring to compromise the safety of the region, including the N’Kor Republic. This charge is punishable by death, and any attempt to resist arrest will be seen as an admission of guilt and will result in your immediate execution.”

“You can’t be serious,” Roche managed.

He stooped to thrust his face into hers. “We are, Commander,” he said, the red markings under his eyes inflamed with repressed anger. “By the time we arrive at the docking bay, the creature you call Adoni Cane will be firmly under our control. We will not make the same mistake as those who have already died in this system—the mistake of underestimating his capabilities, or his destructive potential.”

Clone warrior, Shak’ni had said. She groaned inwardly. They had known all along who Cane was.

“This is crazy,” said Haid. “We should be working together, not—”

“Quiet, cyborg!” Shak’ni rounded on him. “Pristines are bad enough. Their puny attempts to improve themselves only fill me with disgust.”

Haid’s biomesh rippled, and one skeletal hand lashed out to strike the Kesh. Before the blow could fall, however, the guard behind him rammed the butt of a gun into his back.

Haid’s hand withdrew, but he kept his eyes locked on Shak’ni’s.

Mavalhin edged closer to the door, visibly distressed at the turn of events.

<Morgan?> called the Box. <Morgan, I’ve managed to raise a weak signal from your implants. I know now that you are still alive and can probably hear me. Don’t do anything rash. I will assist you in a few moments.>

<Box!> She raised the output of her built-in transmitter to its maximum level. <What’s happening to Cane and Maii? Tell me!>

Shak’ni faced Roche with a slight sneer creasing one corner of his mouth. “There is no use calling for help, Commander. We are safe from your meddling AI in here.”

“I don’t understand.” Frustration and the smell of the Kesh made her voice shrill. “How do you know all this?”

“That is not your concern. It suffices that we know how you attempted to deceive us.”

“Don’t be a hypocrite, Shak’ni,” Roche snapped. “What you’ve done is no different—”

“What we did, we did in the interest of security. We gave you enough opportunities to reveal the truth, and your failure to do so demonstrated the maliciousness of your intentions.” Shak’ni’s features tightened into a mask. “Were you lucky enough to have been born a Kesh, you would be dead already.”

From the corner Roche could make out Mavalhin staring at her. Even without returning his stare she could tell that he was nervous. And understandably so; he was just an innocent bystander caught up in what could easily become a major diplomatic incident. In fact, she sympathized.

Then:

<Morgan,> said the Box. <I still cannot receive detailed information from your implants, but I can download to them. I have prepared an indirect link which will bring us into contact via Galine Four’s external security shell—to which I still have complete access. All you have to do is locate a data-input point, and I will be able to locate you.>

Easier said than done, Roche thought. She looked around, trying to find a palm-link. The only visible one lay on the far side of the cab, adjacent to the pad used to key destinations manually. It was only two meters from her, but Disisto stood in the way.

The cab shuddered beneath her feet as it neared the outer shell of the station.

A thought struck her. There was another link in the cab; all she had to do was gain access to it...

Haid swayed as the cab crossed another boundary mismatch. She reached out to steady him, ignoring the jab the guard behind her delivered to her shoulder blades.

“His balance is poor,” she said, gripping Haid’s shoulder tightly.

“It’s true,” Disisto said evenly. “Let her be.”

The guard behind her relaxed slightly, and Roche dug her fingers into Haid’s biomesh, pulling him minutely toward her. Their eyes met. Although it was impossible through his artificial lenses, she thought she saw a look of understanding pass through them.

The cab reached the point at which he had stumbled the first time they had made this journey, earlier. It shuddered right on cue.

Haid’s legs gave way beneath him, sending him lurching into Roche. His shoulder along with the weight of his biomods acted as a battering ram, forcing her away from him and across the cab. She grunted, reached out to break her fall, and sprawled untidily at Disisto’s feet.

Shak’ni hissed impatiently.

“Sorry,” said Haid as he tried to regain his footing. Roche kept her legs carefully out of the way as he did so; the guards also avoided his artificial limbs, wary of a potential trap. He made it onto his hands and knees, and made a great effort of almost standing up before slipping back down onto one knee.

While the guards were busy watching him, Roche reached out to Disisto with her left hand. He reached out with his, to help her upright.

The moment their palm-links met, she triggered her implants and spoke as quickly as she could:

<Box? Box! We’re in a transit cab heading to the main docking bay, and I can’t hold this link long. You have to do something! Try and provide a distraction so Haid and I—>



The link broke as Disisto let go of her hand. She blinked, realized that she was on her feet again.

“Thanks,” she said. “I was a little dizzy there for a moment.”

Looking down at his hand, he frowned and shook his head. “So was I,” he said. “The weirdest thing ...”

Haid was also on his feet. She made no move to stand next to him; being together would only make it harder for one of them to break free. The motion of the cab beneath her feet had slowed dramatically; it was already difficult to tell whether it was moving or not.

Be ready, the Box had said. But for what?

The doors opened on an empty corridor. Disisto stepped out first, closely followed by Mavalhin. The pilot looked around him, and backed quickly out of the way.

The guard behind Roche nudged her in the back. She stepped through the doors with her escort close behind. Haid and Synnett came next.

For a brief moment, Roche thought, the numbers were almost manageable. If they were going to break free, their chances were never going to be better.

She tensed. <Come on, Box!>

Then, as Shak’ni, the remaining guard, and the Kesh moved to exit the cab, the floor lurched and a sudden gust of wind swept past them.

“We’ve been holed!” Disisto shouted over the sudden wail of alarms. “The area’s being sealed off!”

Roche froze, her space instincts taking over.

Behind her, the doors to the cab slid shut, cutting off Shak’ni’s shout of protest.

Before anyone could even contemplate overriding the seal, Roche spun on one leg and knocked aside the pistol of the guard behind her. A second kick knocked the wind out of him and sent him back into the doors of the cab.

Beside her, Haid had Synnett in a wristlock, the narrow fingers and strength of his new arm provoking a hiss of pain. The security officer’s weapon discharged a single bolt of energy that earthed harmlessly into the wall. One blow with Haid’s free hand made Synnett drop the pistol, and Roche was there to scoop up the weapon and point it at Disisto.

Two side arms faced one for a split-second, until Disisto dropped his to the floor and raised his hands.

“That was fast,” he said over the wail of the siren. “I don’t know whether to be impressed or annoyed.”

“I don’t care either way,” said Roche, approaching him while Haid covered Mavalhin and the one conscious guard. “Just give me your hand. Your left one.”

He held it out to her, and she gripped it tightly. Making certain the gun was placed firmly under his chin, she activated her implants again.

<Okay, Box, what the hell have you done?> The reply was instantaneous: <Fired the scutter’s main engines while it was still in the dock, breaching the hull of the station at four points.>

<Are you insane?> she gasped.

<No. Merely in a hurry.>

<But you could’ve killed us all!>



<But what about Maii and Cane?>



<And the scutter itself?>

<It has been severely damaged. The explosion triggered a chain reaction in three of its four fuel cells.>

<How the hell are we going to get out of here now?>

<There was no other option, Morgan. I had to split your party, and this was the only way open to me.>

<In the short term, yes. In the long run, we might as well have handed ourselves over.> Roche thought quickly. <Where are Maii and Cane?>

<In an emergency medical cocoon on the far side of the dock. Cane was gassed and overpowered as soon as he left the scutter. Maii was shot with a Xarodine dart. The surveillance devices were neutralized by microwaves. There was nothing I could do to prevent any of it. We had no reason to suspect that such an ambush was awaiting them.>

The Box sounded defensive, as well it might, Roche thought. She fought the urge to curse her decision to bring Maii to the station; regret was worse than useless.

The siren was getting on her nerves. The sooner they were on the run again, the better. They would have to move as soon as the pressure doors opened around them.

<We could escape in Daybreak,> she reasoned. <Can you override the secondary dock?>

<Perhaps. I have not tried that avenue as yet. Also, the link with the courier is sealed to me. I am unaware how badly it has been damaged.>

<We’re a little short on alternatives,> Roche snapped back.

<Then I recommend you bring Disisto with you,> the Box went on. <His palm-link gives us access to a deeper level of security than before.>

Roche looked at Disisto’s face, twisted in pain from the gun digging into his chin. She hadn’t realized she was pressing so hard, but she did nothing to relieve him.

<I’m not leaving without Maii,> she said.

<A rescue attempt at this time would be foolish,> the Box protested. <Quite apart from the fact that both Cane and Maii are unconscious and would need to be carried, they are also being closely guarded. Furthermore, Shak’ni has alerted security that you have escaped detention; you would be recaptured well before—>

<All right,> she snarled, hating herself for seeing the sense in the Box’s words. <We leave them behind—for now. But as soon as we have a way of getting them back, we do it. And I don’t want any arguments about this, Box.>

<There will be none, Morgan. With Disisto’s access, we may yet unravel the security net of Galine Four.>



Disisto flinched as she pulled the gun out from under his chin,

“We’re leaving,” she said, keeping their palms together.

“But—”

“Don’t argue. Just do your best to keep up.” She turned to Haid. “You catch all that?”

“Yes,” he said. “Give me a moment to tidy up and I’ll be ready.”

He used his pistol to knock the second guard unconscious, then turned to face Mavalhin. The pilot backed away with hands raised.

“Morgan!” he said “Please—”

“Sorry, Myer, but we don’t have time for this.”

“But I—I want to come with you!”

Haid hesitated; Roche frowned. “What?”

“Well, you’ll need to get off the station, right?” Mavalhin’s words came out fast. “I can help you do that.”

“We already have a ship. Daybreak was a COE courier; if it’ll fly, I can use my old overrides to assume command.”

“Oh, I’m sure it will fly,” he said. “But you don’t expect to be able to just blast out of the docks in one piece, do you? I mean, how will you disengage?”

“He’s just wasting time,” muttered Haid, raising his pistol.

“No, wait,” said Roche, remembering the Box’s uncertainty and the fact that it still did not have high-level access to the station’s systems. “What are you suggesting, Myer?”

“That I use my codes to get you away.”

“In exchange for...?”

“Passage, that’s all. A chance to get out of here.”

“Why?”

“It’s time to move on, time for a change, and...” He hesitated slightly. “And other reasons.”

Beside her, Disisto spat on the floor at Mavalhin’s feet. The pilot flushed red, but did not respond.

“Don’t trust him,” Haid said.

“But he does have a point,” she replied. “We might need those codes.”

“We don’t know whether his codes will even work!” said Haid. “Once they know he’s with us, they could just change them.”

She thought a moment longer, then finally dismissed Haid’s objections with: “Okay, Myer, take us to Daybreak. But don’t push your luck.”

Mavalhin grinned. “Thanks, Morgan. I owe you one for this.”

“Just get moving.”

Haid indicated the corridor ahead with the pistol, and Mavalhin headed along it, checking once to make sure they were following.

“You’re crazy if you think you can get away with this,” Disisto said to Roche. “You’ll hardly leave the dock before someone fires on you.”

“Tell me something,” she said. “Are your implants programmed to monitor your well-being?”

“No.”

“Then bear in mind that I don’t need you alive,” she told him. “Now shut up while I concentrate.”

His lips whitened. She felt sweat trickle from her left hand, and wished she could let go of him, if only for a moment.

Within seconds they reached a sealed blast-door. It slid open as they approached, before she could wonder how they were going to get through it, and closed behind them.

 said the Box. <I can ensure that the way ahead is clear, and that no one will sneak up on you from behind. The secondary dock itself is occupied, however, and you will have to deal with that in order to gain access to the ship.>

<Give me a view of the dock.> Instantly, an overhead perspective appeared in her left eye, revealing two technicians and three security guards standing in a spacious control room.

<What’s that in the background?> she asked the Box. <The airlock?>

<Daybreak is connected by an umbilical to the dock. There is only room for one vessel at a time, and there are facilities for just one connection. The airlock leads directly to the umbilical.>

<Is it open?>

<No. It is locked.>

<Open it, if you can. Do you have the right codes?>

<Disisto has a priority access code, but to use it now would only forewarn them that you are coming.>

Roche nodded. <How about communications between the dock and the rest of Galine Four? Can you interrupt them?>

<Yes, although they already know that you are at liberty aboard the station.>

<Then we’ll have to play it carefully.> She paused as another pressure door slid aside. The map the Box had given her indicated two more doors between them and the secondary dock. <If Shak’ni guesses where we’re headed and manages to get a squad in before us, we’ll be cut off.>

<That won’t happen. I will self-destruct what remains of the scutter and create another hull breach if necessary. Decompression takes precedence over security problems; not even Shak’ni can change that.>

<At least they’ve got their priorities in order.> Roche smiled grimly, and thought about Maii and Cane, captives of Rufo. 

* * *

The secondary dock lay five meters past the final pressure door. As they passed through it, Roche tightened her grip on Disisto’s hand.

“You so much as raise an eyebrow without my say-so,” she said, “and I will shoot you. Okay?”

Disisto grimaced slightly. “I never doubted for a moment that you would, Commander.”

“Good.” She waved Mavalhin and Haid ahead of her. “We need to whittle their numbers down. Myer, I want you to go first and tell them you’ve come to get help from the main dock. The Box will kill communications, so they won’t be able to check. Tell them a fire’s responsible. Reinforcements have been cut off, and all hands are needed to help put it out.”

“And if they don’t believe me?”

“They can’t afford not to. A fire in the main dock will spread quickly, regardless of pressure doors.”

He nodded at Haid. “Where will he be?”

She pointed at a corner past the entrance to the dock. “But I’ll be watching, Myer, so don’t even think of trying anything.”

He grinned uneasily. “As trusting as ever, I see.”

Roche pulled Disisto around the corner, with Haid not far behind <Okay, Box. Kill communications, and get ready to open that airlock.>

<At your command.>

From her overhead perspective of the dock, Roche watched as Mavalhin hurried into the control room. She couldn’t hear much of what was being said, but Mavalhin’s animated behavior along with the responsive body language from the guards themselves gave her an idea of what was happening. Two of the five personnel seemed skeptical, but the others appeared to accept his story. After a few moments two of the security guards, along with one of the technicians, followed Mavalhin out of the room, moving up the hallway toward the open pressure door. The guards and technician stepped through the door a second before Mavalhin, but instead of following, he jumped back.

The door slid shut, cutting them off.

Roche tugged her prisoner out of hiding. “Okay. We go in. Haid, you first, then Myer. I’ll be right behind you.”

The remaining security guard looked up as soon as Haid ran into the room, and in a moment his pistol was up and firing. Haid rolled behind a desk, out of harm’s way, but Mavalhin caught a bolt in the shoulder that sent him flying, screaming in pain.

Roche rounded the door at the same instant, dragging Disisto with her. Her opening fire caught the guard in the chest. He collapsed back into a chair, his gun still firing. The weapon discharged noisily into the ceiling six more times before his trigger finger fell slack.

The lone technician backed away with his hands raised and a look of terror on his face.

Haid appeared from behind the desk. “Thanks, Morgan. Guess my reflexes are still a little rusty.”

“Don’t mention it,” she muttered, keeping an eye on the technician and Disisto, while at the same time trying to determine exactly how seriously Mavalhin had been hurt.

<Box, open the airlock.>

The door slid open with a hiss, revealing a standard umbilical corridor on the far side.

<Can you seal the entrance in here?> she asked.



<Let’s hope it’s enough.> She waved her pistol at the technician, gesturing for him to lie facedown on the floor. “Haid, knock him out.”

Next Roche checked on Mavalhin. The pilot had been shot in the left shoulder. Blood leaked from between his fingers where he clutched the wound. She forced him to let go, and pulled the charred edges of the hole in his uniform aside.

The wound was deep but cauterized enough to keep blood loss to a minimum, otherwise he would already be slipping into shock. His eyes, when they met hers, were full of panic.

“Glad you came with us, huh?” Her smile was intended to allay his obvious fear. Despite his pain, he managed a half-smile in return. Roche stood, wiping her hands on her black uniform. “When Haid’s ready, we’ll board Daybreak and be on our way. Once we’re out of here, we’ll see what medical facilities we have and patch you up, okay?”

He nodded and struggled to his feet. Disisto followed obediently as Roche guided the pilot to the umbilical.

“I’m done,” said Haid, stepping over the technician.

“Right. Through here.” She prodded Disisto to go ahead of her. <Box, once we’re in, seal the airlock.>

<Yes, Morgan.>

The umbilical was only half as long as the ones at the main dock. At the far end, the courier’s airlock was sealed shut. Roche let go of Disisto for a moment, and placed her palm-link against it, hoping that she remembered the emergency COE codes well enough to fool the onboard AI.

After a moment of rapid dialogue, the airlock hissed and slid open. Taking hold of Disisto again, she entered the courier vessel.

Daybreak was little different from the many small cruisers she had flown in her years with COE Intelligence. It had room for a crew of eight and forty-two passengers, plus a small cargo hold at the rear. The bridge—cramped to Roche after her time on the Ana Vereine—was at the rounded nose of the craft and held crash-seats for five. The interior was dimly lit and purely functional. A standby screen glowed at the pilot’s station, but otherwise the controls were dead.

Haid helped Mavalhin into an empty couch and strapped the brace tight, ignoring the wince of pain it provoked. Roche put Disisto into the copilot’s position and lashed his hand to the palm-link. Sitting next to him, she opened her own link to the vessel’s command systems, and thereby back to the Box. The craft accepted her COE overrides without complaint.

<Was Myer telling the truth?> she asked. <Will it fly?>

<All systems are green—except for the slow-jump drive, which is dead, and weapons systems, which are nonexistent. I am initiating a start-up sequence which will have the ship flight-ready in six minutes.>

The main screen showed a forward view of the dock, past the dry dock and a section of the outer shell. Lights began to flicker on the consoles. Roche tried to follow them, but the Box worked too rapidly.

Within seconds the reactor began supplying power to the main thrusters, preparing them for rapid burn, and as it did, Roche was touched by a sense of déjà vu.

The situation reminded her of the time she and Cane had escaped from the Midnight with Maii and Veden captive. Then, as now, the Box had been in control of the craft—and much more besides, it had turned out.

<This time,> she warned the AI, <don’t blow anything up>

The Box did not respond immediately. <Box?>

<I’m sorry, Morgan,> it finally said. <The Ana Vereine is receiving fire from cannon on Galine Four. We are camouflaged, but are hampered by the necessity to remain nearby in order to assist your launch.>

<You can’t destroy the cannon?>



She checked the countdown on the main display. Only a minute had passed.

<How long can you hold off the attack?>

<Long enough. But you will need to launch with haste.>

<Understood.> She turned in her seat. “Myer, what are those codes? Myer?”

The pilot stirred. “What—?”

“The codes! What are they?”

“Oh... 16433051: Cold Sleep.” She turned back to the main console and fed the sequence into the main AI. It accepted the code without protest, and relayed the command to the secondary dock. Twenty seconds later, the umbilical disengaged and retracted into its housing.

<Okay, Box. We’re clear at this end. As soon as the drives are able, we can leave.> She began preparing the navigation systems for departure, plotting a route from the main dock to a potential rendezvous with the Ana Vereine.

<There is one other thing,> the Box said.

She didn’t stop working. <I’m listening.>



She stopped. <The double-jovian?>

<Yes.>

<What does it say?>

<The message is very brief, repeated every fifteen seconds. It states only that assistance is urgently required.>

<Does it carry an ID tag?>

<A generic civilian code commonly used by independent mining collectives.>

Outriggers. Roche absorbed the detail with interest. Rufo had suggested that they might be active in the vicinity of the double-jovian.



<Agreed.>

The timer showed two minutes remaining before launch.

“This could be rough,” she said, directing her words at Haid but intending them for Disisto and Mavalhin as well. Getting out of the dock was only half the problem; if Galine Four was firing on the Ana Vereine, it would probably try the same on Daybreak—and the courier had neither shields nor weaponry.

An alarm began to ping on the main console. She glanced at it, and realized that someone was trying to hail them.

<Dock security is aware of your present location,> said the Box.

<Inevitable, I guess,> she said. <There’s nothing they can do, though, is there?>

<The secondary dock is still sealed, and their movements are restricted by pressure doors to—>

“Morgan.” Haid’s soft voice carried with it a warning that made her look up immediately. He was pointing at the main screen.

Two figures in pressure suits were climbing onto the lip of the dry dock, carrying a swivel-mounted energy weapon between them.

“Damn!” Roche glanced at the clock again. One minute. If the security officers managed to place the weapon in time, they would have a clear shot at Daybreak as it passed overhead.

“Maybe we could gain time by answering the hail?” suggested Haid.

Roche shook her head, continuing to ready the ship for launch. “That won’t stop them.” She nodded toward the two figures. “And I sure as hell don’t need the distraction right now.”

The thrum of the thrusters grew louder. Normally she would have used attitude jets to move the ship away from the wall of the dock, giving it a less cluttered path and minimizing damage in its wake—but this would forewarn the guards of the ship’s imminent departure. Neither did she care how much damage she left behind.

The countdown clicked to single figures just as the gun was mounted.

Roche nudged the ship forward, ignoring the rough trajectory she had plotted and flying purely on manual. Attitude jets turned it slightly to present as small a cross-section to the gun as possible. Behind it, the guards moved into position.

When the counter reached zero, she directed Daybreak as fast as it would go straight for the impromptu gun emplacement.

Acceleration pushed her back into the seat, hard. Beside her, Disisto braced himself against the arms of the crash-couch. Mavalhin moaned at the pressure on his injured shoulder.

Light flashed in the main screen, and two muffled cracks pierced the roar of the thrusters. For the briefest of moments the gun loomed large in the main screen as the ship raced toward it, then Roche wrenched the ship to her left, away from the wall. Behind them, the energy-wash from Daybreak’s thrusters left a thick black scar on the dry dock. Nothing remained of the two guards.

<The station has launched interceptors from emergency egress bays,> the Box said.

<Singleships?> Roche asked, although she already guessed the answer. The interceptors couldn’t be large to have come from escape-launchers.

<Yes.>

<How many?>

<Fifteen.>

Daybreak cleared the lip of the outer shell, and suddenly all ahead was black: no stars, no navigational clues at all apart from the distant reddish sun. Roche swept the courier in a tight arc away from where the Box’s telemetry data indicated the Ana Vereine was positioned; predictability in battle was a trap she had learned to avoid.

Two specks of light visible over the piecemeal curve of the station instantly moved toward Daybreak. More converged from the far side.

Roche cursed silently to herself as she counted the incoming ships. Half their number alone would have been a problem. The tiny, dartlike craft had none of the brute force of the Ana Vereine—were, in fact, less powerful even than Daybreak—but they were far more maneuverable. Armed, they could play a significant part in any battle.

In a matter of moments, the singleships reached firing range, and began to pepper the space around the courier with energy. The shots that struck home jolted the ship, provoking more protests from Mavalhin. Roche watched the damage board closely as she flew, but so far nothing crucial had been hit.

<Can’t you destroy them?> she asked the Box.



The ship lurched as cannon fire struck it from the rear. Roche grunted and sent it angling away from its previous course, spiraling erratically to reduce the chances of being hit again. Luckily the damage was minor: a sensor or two, a small percentage of hull integrity; nothing life-threatening.

But the cannon fire was intense. It was only a matter of time before she miscalculated—or the targeters behind the cannon had a stroke of luck—and the courier was seriously damaged. If that happened, they would be dead.

Roche had no time to consider attempting to dock with the Ana Vereine, or even determining its location. She just kept her attention focused behind them, on the bobbing singleships and flashing cannon emplacements. Behind the flashes of light narrowly missing the courier, Galine Four loomed like a malignant, worm-eaten moon, much too close for comfort and receding only slowly.

Then something dark blotted the station from view. The black shape angled between Daybreak and the singleships harassing it, effectively acting as a shield against the cannon fire. From within the blackness came a barrage of retaliatory fire, destroying first one singleship that attempted to pass it, then another.

Not wasting the opportunity, Roche spurred the courier onward, putting all available energy into increasing their velocity away from the station. <Perfect timing, Box!>

<Save some of the credit for me, Morgan.> Roche smiled at the sound of Kajic’s voice in her head. <It’s a team effort, you know.>

The Ana Vereine, camouflaged black, thrust itself into close engagement with Galine Four. Although considerably outsized, it had been designed as a weapon of war, and looked it. Its angular outline was visible through the camouflage like a many-legged shadow blotting out the station’s gray. The sheer power of its weaponry outshone that of the dim, red sun, casting the scene in a variety of short-lived colors, each blindingly bright.

<We will cover you as long as we can, Morgan,> said the Box. 

<Already doing so,> she replied. <What about you?>

<When you are a sufficient distance away, we will disengage. We can outrun any vessel at their disposal, and will use the camouflage to its maximum advantage.>

<Are you taking much damage, Uri?>

<Medium to light,> Kajic replied. <We can last a few minutes longer before it becomes a problem.>

<Are you sure? I don’t want you to do anything too dangerous.>



 said the Box. <We will hold here as long as possible, then flee in another direction. I have already sent drones to disrupt your afterwash. That way, they will be unable to follow you—assuming, of course, they do not detect your drive emissions directly.>

<I’ll feather the wash as soon as you leave,> she said. <That’ll reduce the chances of them spotting us. But what about communications? Even on tightbeam, there’s a chance they’ll overhear.>

<A good point, Morgan. I suggest we maintain radio silence for three hours, just to be certain.>

<Agreed. Unless there’s an emergency, I’ll speak to you then.> She took one last look at the Ana Vereine. <Take care of yourselves.>

<We will, Morgan.> Kajic’s voice sounded alive with the thrill of battle. <Speak to you in three hours.>

The line went dead, and Roche returned her attention to slipping away from the station.

* * *

Only after Galine Four become barely a blip on the courier’s rear scanner screen did Roche finally feel safe enough to let Daybreak fly itself. Programming it to follow a course through the relative cover of Autoville—where, this far out in the system, a solid body every million kilometers constituted a crowded environment—she unlocked her harness and stepped out of the crash-couch.

She stopped beside Disisto. “I’m locking the ship to my implants,” she told him. “You so much as touch those controls and I’ll know about it. Understand?”

The security officer nodded slowly. “Given my situation, I’m hardly going to take any risks.”

She held his stare for a few seconds before moving off to check on Mavalhin. The pilot was unconscious in his seat, blood spreading across his uniform from the wound in his shoulder. When she unlocked his harness, her fingers came away sticky.

“He’s in a bad way,” said Haid, leaning from the other side of the couch to help her lift him out of it.

“If there’s an autosurgeon aboard, we might be able to help him.” She gritted her teeth as they swung him upright. He was heavier than he looked. “The corridor we passed on the way in—the surgery should be along there.”

Together they manhandled him to the courier’s small medical facility. There, they laid him on a plastic stretcher and positioned the autosurgeon over him. The machine came to life with a slight humming sound as it began to take X-rays and ultrasound images of the wound.

Roche took a step back, turning her attention from Mavalhin to Haid. She noticed her friend’s distraction as he quietly surveyed the room.

“What’s up?”

“Huh?” His gaze came back to her. “Oh,” he said, “I was just thinking. It’s kind of weird to realize that the clone warrior was actually here, in this ship, only a few days ago.”

“I know what you mean.” She nodded at the stretcher where Mavalhin lay. “This might have been the very place they revived him when they removed him from the life-support capsule.”

“Do you think he’s left the system?”

“I don’t know what to think.” She folded her arms and leaned against a waste-disposal unit. “I just don’t know how far we can trust the information Rufo gave us.”

“Well, most of it made sense,” said Haid. “At least, it fit what we’ve already learned.”

“Most of it, yes. But I can’t shake the feeling that he left the most important bits out.”

The humming from the autosurgeon faded as it finished its examination. Roche read the diagnosis from the small screen: Mavalhin had a shattered collarbone and punctured left lung, and had lost a dangerous amount of blood. The recommendation was for surgery to correct the gross injuries, and a week’s recuperation to reach full health and mobility.

Roche instructed it to begin the operation, and immediately surgical lasers flashed, cutting away the remains of the pilot’s bloodstained and burnt uniform. She told the autosurgeon to notify her when the procedure was finished; then, with a pat on the back and a gesture toward the door, she ushered Haid out of the room.

“Rufo didn’t mention that Galine Four had moved shortly before we rendezvoused with it,” she said as they headed back to the bridge. “He also didn’t mention that he’d had contact with someone outside Palasian System within the last week. And he definitely gave us no reason to suspect that he knew who we were, or that he knew about the Sol Apotheosis Movement.”

“We should’ve guessed the last bit sooner,” Haid said. “He did say he was an expert on history. He could hardly have missed the Wunderkind.”

“I know.” She felt bad about that, but there was nothing she could do to change the past. “He was also reticent in other areas, like the transmissions we picked up coming here. If Myer was near Jagabis when the Sol code was sent, you’d think he would have traced its source.”

“Maybe he did.” Haid shrugged. “Maybe that’s why he was heading out of there when we ran into him.”

“Well, we’ll find out when he’s awake, I guess.”

Haid paused before speaking, his artificial eyes and midnight-black features unreadable. “I still don’t trust him, Morgan,” he eventually said.

“Neither do I, but he did help us back there.”

“He helped himself.”

“Perhaps. But it amounted to the same thing.”

“This time.”

Back on the bridge, Disisto sat in resigned silence.

“How is he?” he asked, looking up.

Roche leaned against the main console to face him. “You almost sound like you care.”

Disisto looked offended. “Because we’re on opposite sides, I can’t be concerned? You have a monopoly on these emotions, Commander?”

“Not at all,” she said. “Just wouldn’t have thought it was a required trait for someone working under Shak’ni, that’s all. I mean, he doesn’t strike me as someone who cares about others terribly much.”

Disisto’s face clouded. “We agree there, at least.”

“What does that mean?”

Disisto said nothing, but didn’t look away from her.

“Listen,” she said, “I don’t know what you think we are, or what you think we’ve done, or even what you think we will do, but I can assure you that you’re wrong about us. I’m not your enemy, and I don’t regard you as mine. It’s the clone warrior we should be worrying about, not each other. If he’s still out there, none of us are safe, and fighting each other will only make the situation worse.”

“Or perhaps he thinks we’re working with the Sol Wunderkind?” Haid’s words were to Roche, but his gaze was fixed firmly upon the security officer.

Disisto’s expression was defiant. “That’s what we were told,” he said. “We were warned to expect another one—another clone warrior—and that he would be coming with an ex-COE commander called Morgan Roche in a ship stolen from the Dato Bloc.”

Roche frowned. “Who told you that?”

“The chief, of course.”

“And how do you know he was telling the truth?”

“Why would he lie?”

Disisto’s blind acceptance of what he had been told exasperated Roche. “Did it ever occur to you to ask how he knew?”

“Why? He was right, wasn’t he?”

Roche shook her head. “So no matter what we told you, you wouldn’t have believed us?”

“There’s no reason why I should.” His eyes dropped away from Roche’s. “No matter how much I might want to.”

“What?” She leaned in closer now. “What is it you’re hinting at? Why not just come out and say what you want to say?”

“I can’t.” The words were so soft, they could have been mistaken for a sigh. “Rufo has treated me well in the five years I’ve worked for him. I can’t betray him now.”

Roche glanced at Haid, who lifted one artificial shoulder in a tiny shrug.

“Okay.” Roche stepped back, slipping her hands into the pockets of the shipsuit. “So you don’t want to betray Rufo’s confidence, but he’s clearly doing something you disapprove of. Or—” She stopped as a thought struck her. “Or allowing something to happen?”

He said nothing, but the muscles in his neck tightened.

“That’s it, isn’t it? Shak’ni and B’shan are up to something, and you don’t like it.”

He looked at her again. “Not Haden B’shan. He’s been with the chief longer than I have.”

“Shak’ni, then. That doesn’t surprise me. So tell us what he’s doing, and perhaps we can stop him.”

When Disisto didn’t respond, anger surged from deep within Roche’s frustration. “Dammit, Disisto, talk to me! I’ve got better things to do than play guessing games with you!”

“Why the hell should I trust you?” he said, throwing her anger back at her. “I’ve been told that you’re dangerous, and nothing I’ve seen contradicts that! You don’t even try to deny what’s been said about you! The fact is, I don’t even know who you are.” He paused for a moment, leaning forward slightly and fixing her with a cold stare. “So tell me, Commander, just who do you think you are?”

Her hand closed into a fist, but she managed to subdue the impulse to strike him. Her anger had little to do with his attitude. In fact, if anything, she understood his point of view. Who was she to demand that he compromise five years of faithful service to Rufo? No, her anger came about from what had happened to Cane and Maii.

She let the tension drain from her, leaving just the residue of frustration in her clenched fist. A moment later she released this too, and sighed.

“Look, Disisto, I can’t deny what you’ve heard about me, because most of it’s true. Yes, one of my companions does appear to be a clone warrior, and yes, I did steal my ship from the Dato Bloc.”

Disisto raised an eyebrow, surprised by her sudden frankness. “And the super-AI you held COE Intelligence HQ to ransom with?”

She nodded. “And Haid here is one of the few people ever to escape from the penal colony on Sciacca’s World. You’re in distinguished company, you know.”

“That is the truth,” said Haid, grinning.

Disisto looked from Roche to Haid. “I’m sure you think it is,” he said humorlessly. “But that still doesn’t mean I can trust you.”

Roche reached down and unlocked the clasp of his harness. “I guess it all depends on how you look at it.”

“Morgan!” Haid cautioned uneasily.

“Come on, Ameidio,” she said. “He’s not going to betray us—at least not until he’s sure we can’t help him.” She unlooped the strap holding Disisto’s left hand to the palm-link. “Besides, he can’t stay tied up forever.”

Disisto sat up, rubbing at his wrists. “Thank you,” he said, with more than just a hint of sarcasm.

She shrugged. “I can tie you up again, if you like. Or you can quit with the attitude arid come down to the mess where we can discuss things civilly. It’s your choice.”

He offered a half-smile and said: “The mess will be fine, thanks.”

“Good,” said Roche. “But remember that both Ameidio and I are armed and we’ll be watching your every movement.”

Disisto nodded, standing slowly. “Now that I can believe.”

* * *

In the mess, the three of them sat at one of the many tables scattered about the room. Roche picked at a dish of reheated noodles while she sketched the details of how she had come to be in Palasian System. Disisto listened carefully, occasionally glancing at Haid when the ex-mercenary added a detail Roche had left out.

By the time they brought him up to date, an hour had passed and Disisto had hardly said a word.

“Well?” Roche prompted.

“I’m not sure,” he said. “I think you’ve been honest with me, but...”

“But what?”

He pushed his plate aside. “Well, the business of Cane himself. If the clone warrior in Palasian System could cause so much destruction, then why hasn’t Cane?”

Roche shrugged. “That’s one of the reasons we’re here: to see what makes them tick. But so far we’ve only seen two, and that’s hardly a representative sample. For all we know, Cane could be the norm, not the exception.”

Disisto looked down at his plate for a long moment, then back up at Roche. “There’s another one.”

What little appetite Roche had instantly vanished. “What? Where?”

“Hetu System. We received news of it a few days ago.” He held up his hands before she could press him for more details. “That’s all I know, Roche. I’m not privy to that kind of information. What little I do find out is on the sly. “

She forced herself to let it go—for the moment. Hetu System was on the far side of the COE, on the fringes of the region. There wasn’t much she could do about it even if she wanted to.

“You heard about this other clone warrior a few days ago?” Haid said. “How was that possible? I thought you were unable to leave here.”

Disisto looked tired, as though his decision to answer questions had come at great personal cost. “Seventeen days ago we were brought here on the back of the Sebettu, a Kesh destroyer. They brought us to the edge of the system, just inside the Gauntlet, and from there we traveled under our own power.”

“So the Gauntlet was in place at that point?” said Roche.

“Yes.”

Roche nodded, noting one lie from Rufo so far. He had said they had been trapped when the solar envelope had encapsulated the system.

Disisto went on: “Ever since then, we’ve received a communications drone from outside the Gauntlet every six days or so. I presumed they came from Sebettu, but if you didn’t pass it on the way in, I guess I might be wrong.”

“That explained the recent duel Haid had noted in the bar. “All we saw was a blockade comprised of Armada ships. Were they there when you came in?”

“Yes. But they let us through once they were sure who we were.”

“Really? Doesn’t that strike you as a bit odd? I mean, we had a hell of a time getting past them.”

“Not really,” said Disisto. “As I understand it, the COE Armada wanted to seal the system once they had an idea what was inside it. The only way they could do that quickly was with something like Asha’s Gauntlet. They did a deal with the N’Kor Republic, which had the only remaining prototype. At the same time, they contacted the chief and commissioned the services of Galine Four. The Gauntlet beat us here by a few days, so Sebettu ferried us in. Once we were inside, they left us alone to begin our work.”

“Which was?” said Haid.

Disisto turned to him. “To study the actions of the person responsible for the destruction of the system.”

“That’s it?’ Haid asked.

“What else do you suggest we do? Fight this person? The most we could hope for was to work out how he operated, in order to stop his doing it again elsewhere. Anything more would’ve been asking for trouble. If you ask me, it’s risky enough just being here.”

“Rufo agreed to be dropped in here without any means of defending himself?” Haid’s expression was highly skeptical. “No means of escape? No way of letting the outside know if you might be under attack?”

“Not quite,” said Disisto. “We do have communications drones of our own that we can send if we need to. But it was risky, yes. A drone takes at least ten hours to get out of the system. If we did get into trouble, by the time help arrived we’d have been dead. We haven’t sent any yet, and I hope we don’t have to.”

“So why did Rufo agree to do it?” Roche asked.

“Lots of reasons, I guess. It’s hard to know exactly why, because he doesn’t explain himself to his employees as often as we feel he should.” He managed a small smile. “I think it was because the COE applied a little pressure to make him agree. That, and they told him the person we would be looking for was probably gone anyway.”

Roche’s laugh was derisive. “And that you would basically be conducting an autopsy on a completely dead system?”

“Something like that,” said Disisto.

“But it hasn’t turned out that way, has it?”

Disisto shook his head. “The traps around Aro could’ve hurt us, and there could be others we haven’t encountered yet.”

“Not to mention the clone warrior himself,” Haid pointed out.

“I doubt he’s still here,” said Disisto.

“Really? Why?”

“It stands to reason, doesn’t it? We’ve been wandering around the system for almost two weeks, and we haven’t been attacked. We’ve been careful, sure, but he would’ve spotted us eventually. And if he did, why didn’t he attack us? We’re the only major target left in one piece in Palasian System. It doesn’t make sense that he would let us roam free—especially not when we’re actively looking for him. He’s not stupid.”

“And this is what Rufo believes?” said Roche.

“No, Rufo is convinced he’s still here,” Disisto said. “But take my word for it, he’s long gone by now.”

Roche wasn’t taking his word on anything, but was prepared to watch him entertain the thought. “Where to? Hetu System, perhaps?”

Disisto shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe he’s still in transit. It depends what sort of transport he’s in, and what he’s looking for. The nearest system is only a few light-years away, but it’s not much more than an outpost. He might be looking for more of a challenge.”

“I wouldn’t call Palasian System much of a challenge,” Haid said.

“What if this was just a trial run?” said Disisto. “Or just an opportunity to do some damage? Remember: he only made his move when the crew of this ship brought him out of the life capsule. Not only was Palasian System the closest port at that time, but Daybreak was already heading there. It would’ve made sense to go with the flow, to take what he could from here, then to move on in the direction he actually wanted to go.”

Roche nodded. “I agree. It matches what Cane said. He’s not going to waste time or opportunities; every decision he makes will be to maximize his return—however he measures it. Palasian System was just a means of making himself stronger.

“But where do we fit into this?” she went on. “You said someone from the outside warned you that we were coming. Who was it? And why?”

“The Armada, perhaps,” said Disisto.

“You don’t sound very certain about that,” said Haid.

“I’m not,” he said. “The last drone we received told us to expect you. I have no idea who sent it.”

“Word must have leaked from Intelligence,” said Haid, facing Roche. “Someone might have taken exception to there being another Sol Wunderkind on the loose.”

“Maybe,” Roche said. She could believe Page De Bruyn setting her up like this. “But why not ambush us properly? There’s no way we could have withstood a destroyer or two at the edge of the Gauntlet, where they knew we were going to arrive sooner or later. Why leave it up to a nonmilitary installation inside what is basically a war zone?”

“Less risk?” Haid suggested. “Containment would be easier in here, if something went wrong.”

“Not when we have a working slow-jump drive. Supposing Cane did go berserk, all he’d have to do is take over the Ana Vereine and fly it back out again.”

“Do you think he’s capable of doing that? Without Kajic or the Box, the ship would be difficult to control for a hundred people, let alone one.”

“I’d hate to rule it out,” Roche said. “Every time Cane reaches a hurdle, he seems to find a way over it.”

“Until now.” Haid turned to Disisto. “So what did you hit him with, anyway? Ferozac?”

“Diprodek-2, actually,” the security officer said, unable to hide a hint of satisfaction. “It was the fastest-acting neurotoxin we had in store, and we had an antidote. All we had to do was hit him with a blast, catch him when he fell, then clear out the poison before it did any serious damage. It worked, too. I was receiving updates before the scutter activated its engines—and afterward, too, through the feed your Box tapped into.”

Roche leaned forward. “What did you see?”

“Everything went as planned. The whole thing was handled by remote to ensure no one would get hurt. The scutter docked, and automatics attached the umbilical. When pressure equalized, the airlock opened. The clone warrior stepped through first to check things out, then he went back in to get your reave. They walked out together, and that’s when we hit them. Just prior to that, we shot your reave full of Xarodine to stop her picking anything up—”

“Why did you do that?” said Roche, unable to keep the bitterness from her voice. “She couldn’t read anything. That’s why she was there, not to spy. It was Rufo who suggested we bring her in to see your medical team in the first place!”

“We had no way of knowing you were telling us the truth, Commander.”

Roche shook her head in disbelief. “And I don’t suppose you have any epsense adepts on Galine Four either, right?”

Disisto frowned. “None that I know of. Why?”

“Because Rufo told us you had some on board with similar problems.” She glanced over at Haid. “Another lie,” she said.

“Well, try to see it from his point of view,” said Disisto. “He’d been warned about you; he had to take some sort of action.”

“Why?” Haid asked. “We hadn’t done anything to him.”

“But for the sake of the station he had to assume that you might.”

“Oh, come on, Disisto!” Roche snapped. “He never intended to trust us, and you know it! Stop trying to defend him. He lured us to Galine Four with the sole intention of neutralizing Cane. He didn’t even give us a chance.”

Disisto didn’t deny it. “If that’s the case, then he was pressured into doing it. It’s not like the chief at all to take such risks.”

“What do you mean?” said Roche.

“Well, whether he’s in the system or not, we’d already managed to evade one clone warrior; we’re pushing our luck putting ourselves in direct contact with another. The chief knew that, and at any other time he would have simply let you go by and not take any risks. But he sent Mavalhin to contact you, knowing full well what you would bring with you. And I guess he lied about our epsense adepts to get Cane on board. It’s not an acceptable risk, in my opinion.”

“You blame Shak’ni?” said Haid.

“And whoever’s behind him, yes.”

“So why didn’t they do it themselves?” asked Roche.

“Shak’ni is a bigot,” said Haid, “like a lot of the hardcore Kesh. Maybe it amuses him to watch Pristines making trouble for each other.”

Disisto shrugged. “That’s possible. I don’t know, though. It bothers me that the chief isn’t acting his normal self, and hasn’t ever since we came here.”

Roche sighed. “Okay, so what happens to Cane now?”

“Nothing,” said Disisto. “He’s powerless, and the chief knows it’s best to keep him that way. Linegar may be under pressure at the moment, but he’s not stupid.”

Roche nodded. The idea of Cane bound in chains didn’t sit easily with her, but there was some consolation in what Disisto said. While Cane was incapacitated, he was safe. But it was the image of Maii, locked in the perpetual darkness of her own skull, that bothered Roche the most.

Again, determination to rescue the girl flooded through her. Too many people had let her down recently; she refused to do the same to anyone she knew. There was too much mistrust in the galaxy as it was.

“If Rufo’s so damned smart,” she said, “why can’t he see that we all want the same thing? Why are we fighting each other?”

Disisto met her gaze squarely. “Do we want the same thing?”

“I thought we did. Or hoped so, anyway.” Roche shook her head. “I need to work out what your boss is doing, and why. Will you help me do that?”

Disisto took a deep breath. “If it means betraying his confidence, no, I won’t.”

“Then we have nothing else to talk about. For now.”

* * *

Responding to a message from the autosurgeon via her implants, Roche stopped at the surgery on the way back to the bridge, sending Haid and Disisto ahead of her. By the time she arrived there, Myer’s unconscious body had been wrapped in a bioactive blanket and strapped to the plastic bed. His left shoulder, chest, and arm were completely encased in a thin layer of translucent bandages that allowed enough red through to indicate just how severe the damage had been. He seemed peaceful, however, and Roche was content to leave him there for the time being—until either the autosurgeon pronounced him fit enough to walk or she needed him on his feet regardless.

She had been there only a few minutes when another message came through her implants. This time it was from the bridge: Daybreak had received a tightbeam transmission encrypted in high-level COE code. She quickly left the surgery, instructing the autosurgeon to keep her posted on Myer’s progress.

She arrived on the bridge just as the courier’s AI completed deciphering the transmission.

Haid looked up from tying Disisto back into his crash-couch as she entered. “That’ll be the Box, I guess,” he said.

“I hope so.” She sat in the pilot’s seat and instructed the AI to play the message.

“Morgan,” said the Box, its voice brisk. “This message will reach you exactly three hours following our last communication. In that time, the Ana Vereine will have disengaged from Galine Four and headed in-system. We are currently leading a flotilla of seven pursuit vessels along a powered approach that will take us past Jagabis, through the Mattar Belt and close to Cartha’s Planet. At perihelion, in twelve hours, we will adopt a neutral camouflage and power at maximum thrust to a different orbit. If you wish to choose a rendezvous point, please indicate so in your reply, before the delay becomes too great.”

“We left a furious mess behind,” the recorded voice of Kajic broke in. “There are singleships buzzing around everywhere, looking for any trace of you. The Box self-destructed a drone, hoping they’d mistake the wreckage for Daybreak, but I don’t think they were fooled. It looks like they’re getting ready to move elsewhere, just in case you come back in a hurry.”

“I recommend strongly that you do not do that,” said the Box. “Daybreak is unarmed and poorly defended; any attempt to breach their security will surely fail. Better to wait until we join you and use the combined resources of the two ships.”

Roche nodded to herself; there was nothing she could do for Maii in a clapped-out courier.

As though reading Roche’s mind, the Box went on: “You might be interested to know that Cane and Maii are unharmed. I was able to install a leak via Disisto’s implants while I was connected to the secondary security shell of Galine Four, and through this leak, I have been monitoring their condition.”

Roche smiled. Thanks, Box, she thought to herself. Disisto appeared to be telling the truth on that score.

“They are currently being held in separate cells in the station’s outer levels,” the Box went on, “and are closely guarded. Preparations are being made to move them to the Hub, but where exactly I do not know at this stage. Chances are, however, that it will be to a zone I will not be able to penetrate, even with my improved access.

“Lastly, a drone was launched from Galine Four within fifteen minutes of our departure. I was able to track it as far as the orbit of Gatamin, at which point it was accelerating rapidly for the edge of the system. If you have not already interrogated Disisto on this matter, you should do so immediately. Any information he can provide, willingly or otherwise, will be to our benefit.”

Roche felt a brief flicker of self-satisfaction—Disisto had mentioned that they hadn’t sent any drones out of the system—but quelled it. Although it was good to have preempted the Box in one instance, to dwell on it was obsessive.

“That is all for now, Morgan,” it continued. “The drone following you is maintaining a fixed position with respect to Daybreak and will relay to me any message you send in return. It will be necessary for you to reply soon, though, for the delay between our communications will increase rapidly over the next twelve hours. Once we have a rendezvous point established, we can begin planning how best to use it to our advantage.

“Also, I will require you to perform a diagnostic check of Daybreak’s slow-jump drive. The result of that analysis will affect any plans we make. I will await your reply before taking further action.”

The message ended abruptly, catching Roche off guard for a moment.

After a while she said: “What do you think, Ameidio?”

Haid shook his head. “We haven’t got a lot of options, have we? It’s unlikely they’d even stumble upon us out here, so the sensible thing would be to stay put.”

“I agree.” Roche slipped into the pilot’s crash-couch and called up the communications systems. The tightbeam had come from a point in space not far behind them; she directed the systems to send her reply in that direction, once she had recorded it.

“But staying put is exactly what they’ll be expecting us to do,” she continued. “It’s too obvious, too predictable. And it wastes an opportunity to do something useful. Instead of heading straight back to rescue Maii and Cane, we’d be better off looking for answers.”

“Where from?”

“Kukumat and Murukan.” She called up a map of the outer system. “Twice, now, we’ve received signals from near the double-jovian; Rufo can’t or won’t explain them, and that makes me suspicious. It’s also the only obvious hiding place in the system we haven’t investigated. None of the drones we sent there ever reported back.”

“You think there might be survivors?”

“I don’t know what to think. I’d rather keep my options open until we arrive. Which should be”—she scanned a navigation chart and performed rough mental calculations—”about fourteen hours, if we go by Hintubet along the way. And if we do, that’ll keep our transmission times to the Box at a minimum.”

Haid nodded. “It also increases the chances of the pursuit ships seeing us.”

“Marginally. They’ll be tracking the Ana Vereine, not looking for us. By the time the Box loses them, we’ll be gone.”

Disisto had followed the exchange in silence up to that point. “What signals?” he asked. “I was told there was no one near the old base.”

Roche turned to face him. “If that’s what Rufo told you, then that makes me even more interested in having a look myself.”

“I agree,” said Haid. “It worries me what we might be heading into, but yes: I’m also curious to know what Rufo is up to. If he’s lying to his own security staff, then something serious must be going on.”

Before Disisto could respond, Roche turned back to the communications systems and began to record a reply for the Box. She had already checked the maintenance systems of the courier and determined that the slow-jump drive was dead; that was why the clone warrior had ditched it: after attempting to leave the Gauntlet and failing, destroying the drive in the process, he had had no use for the courier. It had become a liability, in fact, due to its inevitable association with him. He had abandoned it and gone elsewhere. Now she was hoping to find him in it; the irony was not lost on her.

But it did confirm one thing: he was in the system with them. Anyone who said otherwise was either wrong or lying.

She keyed their new course into the navigation systems. As the courier’s thrusters began a long, steady burn, she settled back into the crash-couch and let g-forces erase the worry from her mind. For now, there was nothing else she could do.