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When I came to, we were in the payload bay, and I heard the rush of the air pressure building. I reached up to twist my helmet off, but my right arm sent spasms of pain through me when I moved it, and I couldn't manage the helmet one-handed.
Dollie came over to help. Her eyes were wet. "How do you feel?" she said.
"I need to get to the controls. Is Logan onboard?"
"You're badly hurt. You should—" She interrupted herself. "Never mind. Do what you feel you have to."
I managed to slide out of the p-suit. The lining was coated with blood, and my dressing had slipped almost completely off. "There'll be some MediSkin in the medical supplies. Could you bring me some?"
She looked pale but nodded.
I wanted to kiss her but decided not to. I was already dealing with enough injuries.
When I reached the control room, Aurore gasped at my blood-soaked arm.
"Paek's dead," I said.
Logan's eyes, widened. "Did you...?"
I wasn't surprised that he thought that. "Gabriella. She didn't like being assigned as his bed warmer." I flopped into the pilot's seat. Logan had brought the main power online, but we remained connected via the docking tube. "Did I miss anything?"
"The Zenith has left," Aurore said.
I started the undocking procedure then brought up the tactical display. Sure enough, the Zenith was powering away from the station, heading for deep space. "I'm surprised Mkandla would bail like that. I guess she's thinking about Seckinger's safety."
"I don't think that's it." Logan's voice sounded like pouring astrocrete. "If what we've heard is right, they're both still on Marduk."
"Huh?" was my eloquent response. "Then what's going on?"
"Dan's missing..."
I lowered my head for a few moments, hoping it would clear. I'd been too intent on getting to the controls, and my thoughts were muddy. "But... Dan?"
"That would be my guess."
"You think he stole the Zenith?"
"Do you have another explanation?"
Something stabbed my arm, and I jumped. Dollie tore at my shirt, and once the area was clear she sprayed a copious amount of MediSkin foam over my wound. "Best I can do until you stop this madness."
"Even if he'd learned enough to do that, why would he? I know he's flaky, but he often seemed scared of his own shadow."
"Or maybe he played you... us... really well," Logan growled.
McDole had talked about the hatred she'd sensed, but he'd kept that hidden almost perfectly from everyone but her. I had a nagging feeling I was missing something and couldn't place my finger on it. I checked the dock status. There'd been no response to my undock request, so I flicked the button to talk to the station.
"Marduk control, this is the Shokasta on docking port seventeen. I will be boosting in five minutes. Release the docking tube and clear the port. I'll not provide a second warning."
"Shokasta, this is Marduk control. Please hold while I get my supervisor."
"You heard me. Clear the port, or I'll not be responsible."
The MediSkin foam had jellified over the wound, and the anesthetics were working their magic. I glanced at Dollie. "Thanks."
The comms system beeped, and I stabbed the button. I sensed traffic control wasn't taking me seriously. "You have four minutes, Marduk control."
"Joe. It's McDole—I'm on the Osheroff. I heard your transmission. Was that woman telling the truth about the Phage?"
"I have no idea. Gabriella isn't the most reliable of people. But I don't know of a reason for her to lie about it. She killed Paek."
"She did?" McDole hesitated. "Sorry, Joe, I assumed you..."
"There's something else. Dan has taken the Zenith."
"Why?"
I opened the data systems. Dan had said he'd found communication logs, but I wasn't sure he was telling the truth. In less than a minute, I located the records and skimmed through them, but there were over thirty thousand entries. I set up a quick search for the IDs of the fake Atoll ships and retrieved them easily, then did the same thing for Contravalency Phage and found the records almost as quickly. My body felt like I'd been dipped in liquid helium, and it wasn't anything to do with the anesthetic or blood loss.
"The Phage is on the Zenith."
My words were almost a whisper, but McDole caught them well enough. "That lunatic has a weapon that could destroy the entire Atoll community?"
I did another check. "Around fifty kilograms, packaged in ten missiles."
"Where he's heading?" McDole asked.
It didn't take much figuring out, given his cargo. "My guess is he'd head straight for Sol. Target the biggest Atoll communities."
"And you think he knows how to make the Jump?"
I thought about all his studying and simulation work. "Unfortunately, he probably does."
The next signal from McDole was on an open frequency. "This is Commander McDole on the Osheroff to USN Zenith. Cut your boost and prepare to be boarded. If you comply, I guarantee your safety. Otherwise, we will attack. You have two minutes to respond."
The docking tube had been released, and I swung the ship around to follow the Zenith. I hit maximum acceleration using both the main engines and hit the CASTOR boost. We accelerated at one-third of a gee, and it was then I remembered I'd had to cannibalize the boost system. Despite that, we were catching the Zenith but only at a snail's pace, and Dan had a big lead.
"What's our weapons status?" Logan barked.
"Partial point defense. One missile launcher and a single laser—if we can get close enough to burn him. That's it."
"Target the Zenith."
"Can I try talking to him?" I wasn't sure what I'd say but I still felt obligated to try, if only for Charlie's sake.
Logan hesitated then nodded, and I opened a broadcast. "Dan, this is Joe. There's no way you'll escape. Let's talk things through. I'm sure we can find ways to help you."
The silence stretched out, and I thought he was ignoring me, but then the transmission light came on.
"You think I'm stupid?" His laugh was full of scorn. "Consider yourself lucky. I was gonna blow you and that 'Toller bitch up together."
So Hernandez hadn't planted the explosives. "Why didn't you?"
"You were so gullible I knew I could pull the wool over your eyes as long as I wanted. And I had a feeling that if I waited, something better might come up. I was right. Turns out Mkandla and Seckinger have been planning this all along—they're all dirty bastards, like I said—but now I'm the one holding the cards."
"He's ten-thousand kilometers away. Could we Jump closer?" Aurore said. "Get in range. He's inexperienced, so it may take him a while to react and give us a chance."
"I'm not sure I could program a Jump that fine. Plus, it would take time to figure out." The screen in front of me flashed. "The Osheroff has launched what looks like their entire missile complement. They're also firing lasers and railguns, but it's borderline in terms of range."
"Did you target his ship?" Logan asked.
"Missiles locked and tracking."
"Then fire."
I reached to launch the missiles, but as my finger neared the controls, the track on the Zenith flickered and vanished.
"He Jumped," Aurore said.
I couldn't see how he'd built-up power that fast, especially as he'd be unfamiliar with the ship.
"Did they take him out?" Logan said.
I stared at the screen. "I don't think so."
McDole sounded over the comm system. "Joe, did you get him?"
"We think he made a Jump. I'm guessing, but from the time he spent preparing, I'd say it was blind."
The screen flickered, and McDole's face appeared. She looked pale and drawn. "So we've no idea where he went? But he's got enough weaponry to commit genocide."
"Even if he didn't head straight for Sol, you can bet that's where he'll go eventually." I wondered again how the Corporate ships had tracked us through the Jump.
McDole's expression was cold, but fear sparked in her eyes. "We're setting up a Jump, regardless. We need to warn our people. You better send me what evidence you have."
"You need to see this," said Aurore. "I've been searching the data from Paek's ship." She moved what she'd found on to the main screen—a transmission between Paek and the AF-11s, detailing their next target.
Logan's eyes were as wide as plates. "They're going to attack Proxima Station?"
The station was the first established through a joint PAC-USP-UAD project and designed to set up a mining operation in the vast Anglada belt around Proxima. Destroying it would kill thousands from all three nation-states. It would also give the Corporates unobstructed access to exploit the belt.
"They may have already attacked," Aurore said. "It doesn't specify timing."
Logan waved at the controls. "How soon can we Jump?"
"How long to transmit this data to McDole?" I asked Aurore.
She checked the files again. "Twenty minutes."
"Then that's how long it will take."
Dollie had been quiet until now. "You need medical attention, Joe. Don't try to be a hero."
"If we go back to Earth for help, it might be too late," I said. "Our glorious leaders aren't the quickest of decision makers."
Her face was expressionless. "We might get killed."
"I thought that was the plan?"
She headed for the door, no doubt to see what had become of Sigurd. I forced myself to look at the controls and set up a Jump to Proxima.
"You kids need to kiss and make up," Aurore said. "Don't be so rough on her, Joe."
"No chance of that." She'd never forgive me for stopping her from killing Paek.
Proxima and the two stars of Alpha Centauri were almost close enough to touch from an astronomical perspective. It was a triple star system more than anything, and the Jump to Proxima was only a fifth of a light-year, so it wouldn't take much energy to get there. And as Proxima was so small, it gave us the chance to Jump close to the station.
As soon as the transmission was complete, I broadcast a warning and triggered the Jump.
*
Proxima was a bright orange blob off to the left of the screen. I'd brought us high above the ecliptic to avoid the majority of the debris that formed the Anglada asteroid field. The instruments said we were five-million kilometers from Proxima Station, and I set up an approach on full thrust. We were a day away, but we knew we were too late by the lack of response to our comm signals.
It wasn't hard to Jump in closer, and we had a good reserve of power to make it possible. I set up the programming and took us to within ten-thousand kilometers. The station was a ring-and-hub design similar to the High-Rig but was smaller and not as solidly built as it didn't have to support a Space Elevator.
I brought it up on the screen and let out a long breath. "Looks like the cavalry's too late."
The main hub showed signs of several blow-outs that were likely the result of missile strikes, and two-thirds of the ring was missing. The relatively intact sections were clustered around where the spokes connected it to the hub. It was still spinning, but off-center and not the way it was designed to. There'd been over twenty-five hundred people based on the station, but we'd be lucky if we found a single person alive.
Logan stared at the wreckage on the screen. "Any signals?"
"There's something. But it's unclear," said Aurore. "It could be a low-level transmitter, like a comm-set. Or possibly just electrical noise."
"Possibly flare radiation from the star. Besides, I wouldn't recommend going over there to check. That structure looks ready to fail at almost any second." Looking at the tumbling remains of the station made me feel sick in my stomach. "And with the off-kilter spin, it would be almost impossible to search it safely."
"All those people dead," Logan whispered. "I always hoped when we got away from Earth it would end the killing. There's room enough for everyone. Why fight over it?"
"Humanity has a limitless talent for creating conflict," I said. "No matter how difficult it is."
Dollie had returned with Sigurd, and they sat along the wall to my right. Sigurd studied the screen, but Dollie had her head down looking miserable and defeated, something I'd never seen through all the years I'd known her. It tore at me, and I wanted to find some way to comfort her—to see her smile again. But I'd be about as welcome as a beef-farmer at a vegan lunch.
"I've got another signal," Aurore said. "Definitely artificial but not from the station."
I brought up the system map on the screen and checked the coordinates. "Navigation beacon. It's listed as an asteroid—designation 1174-AG. Does that mean anything to anyone?" I waited, but nobody spoke up. "We should check it out."
"An outpost?" Logan said.
"Hard to know without getting closer."
I plotted the new course and headed toward the asteroid. It wasn't far away, and the orbit didn't match the ones of the Anglada belt objects. It looked as if it had been moved into position deliberately, possibly as a training facility—or perhaps it was simply a larger rock they were actively mining.
It would take us a few hours to get there, so I grabbed some food. I felt weak, and my arm was making me feel wretched and more than a little crabby. I could have used some of Sullivan's NanoBiotics, but that thought only reminded me we'd lost the young soldier and made me feel even worse. I didn't want to inflict my mood on anyone so stayed out of the way.
When I returned, the asteroid was visible on the screen. It was larger than I'd expected, around thirty-five kilometers across, with the usual rocky surface. Its gray appearance tinged orange by the light of Proxima. From our viewpoint, a large airlock was visible on the right side of the surface. There was some sort of facility there, which meant someone might have survived the attack on the station.
There were no transmissions coming from the asteroid. If anyone was on this rock, they were understandably keeping quiet. I matched orbits so the ship was stationary fifty kilometers from the surface. That was close enough. It might have been a relatively small asteroid but still plenty big enough to crush us if we got too close.
My mind was unsettled. At first, I thought it was the side-effects of the injury, but my gut told me it was something else. Proxima, along with its two bigger sibling stars, was altogether strange. Their mutual gravitational attraction pretty much screwed up planetary formation and created the extensive debris fields around us. This made them uncomfortable places for humans used to the relatively benign area around Sol, but that didn't fully explain my nervousness. It felt as though the star and the entire system were polluted by a sense of death, made real by the destruction of the station.
I pushed the feeling out of my head and refocused on the asteroid. "I'll need the SMPT to check it out."
Logan raised an eyebrow. "You sure you can manage?"
"Sure." I grinned ruefully. "As you keep telling me—I'm the better pilot."
Logan nodded. "We'll keep an eye out up here."
I left, not daring to look at Dollie, but I could feel her eyes digging into my back. She was no doubt hoping I'd simplify things by not making it back.
At the inner airlock, I pulled on my p-suit but not before checking the MediSkin patch. It had sealed well, but it was hard to say how much damage there was. The puncture was almost on the scarring from my Regen therapy, a problematic area at the best of times. I swallowed a bunch of nerve-tranqs to be on the safe side, hoping they'd deal with any messed-up signals that might show their ugly heads.
I was closing the suit when I heard someone coming. It was Dollie. She was dressed in the black p-suit she'd been wearing on Paek's ship and holding her helmet in her hands.
She spoke before I could. "First rule of EVA operations..."
"No buddy. No EVA..." I shook my head. "Not this time. If there's anyone on that rock, I'll need room for passengers."
"Logan sent me. Said I wasn't to let you go on your own."
I should have known she wouldn't be here for her own reasons. I shrugged. "Okay. Step inside."
We jammed ourselves into the airlock, and her natural scent tingled inside my nostrils. Talk about the wrong place and the wrong time for that memory. It didn't take long to prep the SMPT, then I called up to Logan to cycle the main airlock. As the doors opened, we could see the asteroid surface below us, a tumble of rough shards and shattered rocks that looked about as inviting as racing barefoot over broken glass.
I released the SMPT from its cradle and nudged us out of the Shokasta, clearing us from the payload bay before bringing up the thrust and increasing our velocity to sixty meters per second. We could have gone faster but we'd have used more fuel and had a harder time slowing down. Besides, that was plenty fast enough to get into trouble.
"Joe...?" Dollie's voice sounded in my comm-set.
"What?" The word came out more harshly than I intended.
"Doesn't matter."
This friend/enemy thing confused me. I couldn't work out whether she was being nice or still pissed at me. To be honest, I was more comfortable when she clearly hated me. This in-between limbo was nothing but torment. I flipped the SMPT at the halfway point and countered the thrust. By the time we were done, we were floating a few meters from the asteroid's airlock. Someone had riveted a crude painted sign on one side of the doors that read "Fraioli's Folly" in reflective silver.
"Hotshot Ballen does it again," I muttered.
"Very good. And how does hotshot Ballen propose to open the airlock?" Dollie said.
I hadn't intended broadcasting my comment. "I thought I'd climb out and jump across. We don't have a remote opener for this thing."
"That's what I thought." Dollie was unlocking her belt. "But you can sit here, and I'll do it."
"Why would I do that?"
"Because I'm in better shape than you."
The dull ache in my arm told me she was right. "Okay, I'll exercise my manly privilege and sit on my ass."
Dollie clambered out on the edge of the SMPT. There were handholds to help stabilize her position, and when she kicked off, the movement caused the ship to spin slowly. I stabilized the motion and looked out. She was already at the airlock controls. Minutes later, the wide doors began to open, like a giant yellow mouth.
I nudged the SMPT forward, drifting through the open door. "To each his own fear," I whispered.
Once inside, Dollie followed and triggered the airlock cycle. The slab-like doors closed, and the lights turned green to show the atmosphere was breathable. I hauled myself out, grabbed onto a railing, and pulled myself over to a walkway nearby. I kept my feet away from the floor, though—it was less strain to float.
The airlock was empty, and we made our way to the inner door. Inside was a circular tunnel, the borehole cut as straight as a laser and finished in astrocrete. There was something very familiar about the tunnel and how the fittings lining it were laid out. We moved down the corridor, past several side rooms, but they were all empty. I cracked open my helmet, and the atmosphere had the unmistakable acrid smell of newly cured 'crete.
I passed through another door and found myself in a much wider area. The room was mostly empty, but mounted against the far wall was an operations console, its boxy shape something I'd seen before. I moved over and flipped a few switches, bringing up a swathe of displays on the screens. "Well, I'll be damned."
Dollie came up behind me. "What is it?"
"That's Hardrock Harry." I pointed at the screens. "Blasting Bob and there's Mudslapper Moses."
"Are you feeling okay?"
"They're old friends of mine." I tested the circuits—inactive—but as far as I could tell fully functional. "I guess they decided to run some greenfield trials on my last project. They're designed to work autonomously but could never handle it. Which means there's probably no one here, but we should check, in case."
There were two doors in the room besides the one we'd come through, and Dollie pointed to the one on the right. "I'll take this one—you take the other."
"Meet back here in thirty minutes regardless. There's no telling how far the tunnels might run. If the robots have been busy, there could be kilometers to check. And check in every five on the comm-set."
My door led to another corridor. Like the one we'd come through initially, it was lined with empty rooms ready to be put to use. This was significantly better than anything we'd managed during my involvement with the project. Maybe Palmer had been right—I was the reason it never worked.
After searching a dozen rooms, I called Dollie. "Everything okay?"
Her reply came back almost immediately. "I'm fine. This place is deserted, though."
"Looks like it."
I carried on farther and came to another door. It led to a storage area, with a second airlock even bigger than the one we'd come in by. Down one side were drums of raw materials, mostly polymerizer for the final astrocrete finishing, but also large spools of wire. The bots were sitting on the other side of the room, looking like the guardians of a temple for ancient alien gods.
I looked them over. They appeared to be okay but were on a dormant cycle. They looked pretty beat up, suggesting they'd been busy.
Logan's voice came over the comm-set. "Joe! You need to get ba—"
A minute later, a sharp crack reverberated around the corridor, followed by a low rumble.
"Dollie? Are you okay?"
No answer. I pushed off against Blasting Bob, heading back the way I'd come. "Logan? What's happening?"
Aurore answered. "Joe. The AF-11s are here. We've had to pull away. Logan's trying to shake them before they get too close."
"I felt tremors just now."
She was slow answering. "They launched missiles. Some of them hit the asteroid."
"Get that ship out of here. Don't try anything—"
A deafening rip sounded above me, as if the heavens were opening, followed by a long, deep tearing sound. Clouds of astrocrete splinters filled the air as a long crack traveled the length of the corridor. By instinct, I snapped my helmet closed. Then the first chunks hit me, and I slammed against the wall of the tunnel.