Halla walked along one of the seemingly endless corridors of the Liberator, hefting the silver crate he carried in his arms with a grunt of effort. He wished he’d sent Klagga down to fetch it. While the Arklaxian was in no way as impressive he had been back in the day, somehow he’d managed to keep more muscle on him than most of the crew.
But Lant needed to see that Halla was still useful, especially with these defectors from Blake’s crew showing-off on their fancy flight deck. Why couldn’t Lant see through them? They weren’t loyal to the cause, not like him. He’d stuck by Lant’s side through thick and thin, keeping the crew together, training them hard, planning for this day. He’d never lost sight of the goal, never let despair get the better of him. How many of his crewmates had he found hanging from the ceiling in the early days after the wave was triggered? Crofton. Pax. Weak bastards, the lot of them. Then there was Maynew, still twitching on the end of the cable, hands clawing at the cord around his neck. He’d flung out an arm as soon as he saw Halla, bulging eyes pleading to be cut down. Pathetic. Too weak even to face his own bungled suicide. He didn’t deserve to stand with Lant, which was why Halla had put the bullet through his brain.
This Avon and Vila were just the same. Spineless opportunists. Look how quickly they’d turned as soon as they realised Blake wasn’t coming back.
He wondered how long it would take the rest of Blake’s crew to see the writing on the wall.
His mood darkening by the second, Halla turned the corner that led to the surgical bay. He slowed as the door came into view. Where the hell was Rinney? Picking up the pace, he ran as fast as he could while lugging this damn heavy case along. She was nowhere in sight. Carefully he lowered the case to the floor, swung his rifle from his back and reached to open the door. Damn. The key card was missing. Had Rinney wandered off? He could believe it. She’d always been a bloody liability.
Halla banged on the door with his fist. ‘Everything all right in there? Busy playing Doctors and Med-techs?’
Nothing. He pushed his ear against the door. Not a sound.
No, wait. There was something, a moan. He couldn’t make out whether it was male or female. It could just be the woman, Cally, but…
Halla turned his rifle around and slammed the butt of the weapon into the card reader. It didn’t even make a dent in the plastic. He tried again, one, two, three. Crack. That was more like it. The plastic finally shattered after the sixth attempt. Halla dropped down, brushing ragged shards of plastic aside, and looked at the workings of the lock. Seemed simple. He was out of practice, but had picked enough locks while growing up on the streets of New Canberra. He flexed his bony fingers and started work, yelping as he brushed an exposed wire.
If you’ve just wandered off to take a piss, Rinney, Halla thought sucking his fingers, I’ll have your flaming hide.
Loosening his aching fingers, Halla went back to work, found the right configuration and grinned to himself as the lock clicked open. Still got it, Halla.
Swinging his rifle into his hands, he cautiously opened the door and swore loudly as Rinney blundered out, collapsing against his chest.
‘Rinney, what the…’ He peered over her, into the surgical bay. It was empty. ‘Where are they?’ When the woman didn’t answer, he shook her violently by the shoulders, shouting in her face. ‘Where are they?’
Rinney’s eyes rolled in their sockets.
‘They jumped me,’ she slurred, her head tipping forward, eyelids low, ‘I think. I don’t know. Woke up over there.’ She waved a flaccid arm in the general direction of the room behind.
Halla grabbed her hair, yanking her head to the side. There, on her neck, the tale-tell blush of an injector spray. They’d drugged her.
‘Where’s Vyse?’
Rinney just shook her head, gazing at him stupidly. With a grunt of exasperation, he shoved her back and watched as she crashed drunkenly into the wall, arms flailing as she tried to stay on her feet.
Lant looked up and down the corridor. Where were they? Lant was going to go mental. He grabbed Rinney’s arm and hauled her straight.
‘You’re coming back to the flight deck with me,’ he sneered, pushing her forward before stooping and picking up the crate. ‘Lant’s going to have a field day with you, darling.’
*
‘Is this it?’ Gan rummaged through the crate of weapons. He found a battered old paragun and checked the battery. ‘One energy weapon, a few rusty old rifles and a bunch more slingshots.’
‘They’re better than nothing,’ Blake said, taking the paragun and checking the sights. ‘Everyone take a gun. If you can carry it, take a catapult, too.’
‘I’ll stick with the one I’ve got.’ Jenna’s rifle was slung on her back as she bound Vyse’s wrists with plastic grips.
‘The sights are off,’ he commented.
‘Thanks for the tip.’
Cally tucked her slingshot into her belt, and bent to pick up a sawn-off carbine from the crate, wincing slightly.
‘Still bothering you?’ Blake asked, priming his paragun.
‘It’s just a bit tight,’ she replied, straightening up. ‘So what’s the plan?’
‘Head to the flight deck, use Vyse as a bargaining chip and try to talk Lant round.’
‘And if that doesn’t work?’ Gan had found a long-barrelled revolver at the bottom of the crate. It looked tiny in his hands. He threw it back, snatched up a rifle and began rooting around for ammo.
‘We start firing.’
*
‘DISTANCE TO SPACE COMMAND: 10 MILLION SPACIALS.’
Vila sidled up to Avon, who seemed to be doing his best to avoid his gaze.
‘Are we still at Standard by 12?’ he asked, choosing to ignore the obvious sigh Avon gave when he spoke.
‘Yes,’ Avon replied, his eyes still fixed on the tactical display. Vila followed his gaze. A blue dot pulsed in the bottom right-hand corner of the screen indicating Space Command. Liberator was represented by a bright yellow triangle, cutting across the display while three red sagittal-shaped glyphs had appeared in the top left-hand corner. The pursuit ships. Three more contacts blipped into being, approaching on a lateral vector. The Federation was throwing everything it had at them.
‘But we’ll never be able to keep up that kind of speed,’ Vila said. ‘Not without having to divert power from other systems.’
‘No.’
‘And you don’t think we should mention that to Lant?’
‘No.’
‘Oh.’ Vila blew air from his cheeks. ‘Well, thanks for this chat. Really helped me put my mind at rest.’
‘How’s Cally?’
‘Fit as a fiddle. I mean, it was a tricky job, getting the bullet out, touch and go for a while.’
‘You saved her life? I’m sure she’ll be most grateful.’
‘Well, Jenna helped a bit,’ Vila replied, ‘although I doubt any of them will be talking to me for a while.’
‘I can’t imagine why.’
‘Something about being treacherous scum. I think that’s what Jenna said.’
Avon shot him a look. ‘You mean they didn’t send you up here?’
‘Not exactly.’
‘I assumed your sudden conversion to Lant’s cause was part of a plan.’
It was, thought Vila, a plan to ensure I didn’t end up with a bullet in my gut. Was Avon really trying to make out that his own betrayal was just a smokescreen? Pull the other one. They were peas in a pod, Avon and Vila, even if Avon would never admit it, two sides of the same coin. Weren’t they?
‘A plan? Of course it’s part of a plan,’ Vila said, unconvincingly. Well, it was always best to hedge your bets. ‘You don’t think I’d do this just to save my own neck?’
‘The thought had crossed my mind.’
‘That’s nice, isn’t it. Really nice. You don’t have the monopoly on grand, selfless acts, you know. I can put myself in harm’s way for the good of the crew as well, you know.’
‘Well, then. Let’s hear it.’
‘Hear what?’
‘The plan.’
‘Oh, the plan.’ Vila smiled weakly. ‘You want to hear it, now?’
‘Yes, please.’
Vila swallowed. Think quick, Vila. Think very quick. There must be a plan somewhere in that head of yours. ‘Of course, there’s probably a few wrinkles to iron out, we didn’t have long to throw the plan together you see, but—’
A sudden commotion at the back of the room caused everyone to turn around. Thank god, Vila thought, as Halla shoved a shaken-looking Rinney onto the flight deck.
‘Lant, we’ve got a problem,’ Halla said, striding down to the front. Lant raised his hands in alarm as the Australasian slammed the heavy crate he was carrying onto a nearby seat.
‘Careful,’ he exclaimed. ‘Remember what you’re carrying.’ Lant glanced up at Rinney, who was leaning on the communication station, rubbing her forehead. ‘Why is she here?’
‘They’ve escaped from the surgical bay.’ There was a catch in Halla’s voice. Nerves.
‘What?’ Lant roared, forgetting about the crate and turning his fury on the green-looking Rinney. ‘How?’
‘They jumped me,’ she explained weakly, not able to look her leader in the eye. ‘They staged a fight and then…’
‘They staged a fight?’ Lant turned away for a minute, running a hand over his hairless head. ‘The oldest trick in the book and you fell for it?’ When he spun around again, his revolver was in his other hand, pointing straight at Rinney. ‘Where was Vyse?’
Rinney was visibly shaking. Vila was convinced she was seconds away from dropping to her knees and begging for her life. Coward.
‘He’d come up here,’ she whimpered, before pointing a shaking finger at Vila, ‘bringing him to you. He said he’d come straight back.’
Lant’s revolver swung round to cover Vila.
‘Was that part of the plan, eh, Vila? Split my men up, pick them off.’
Vila threw his hands up. ‘No! I had nothing to do with this. There was no plan.’
‘There’s a surprise,’ Avon whispered beneath his breath.
Lant wheeled round and headed to the weapons rack. ‘Halla, take a team and get out there. I want them found and killed.’ He pointed up at Leylana. ‘Take one of these,’ he ordered, indicating the row of black handles protruding from the rack.
The wiry woman’s eyes sparkled as she marched down to the front of the deck. Vila had never trusted a woman who seemed that keen to get her hands on a weapon. Actually, Vila never really trusted any woman. Or man, come to that.
Leylana took a belt from beneath the rack and fastened it round her waist. As she plugged the weapon into the recharge pack, Lant turned to Rinney.
‘Are you fit?’
The woman pushed herself away from the station and nodded sharply, staggered forward to snatch a gun from the rack.
‘You too, Halla.’
Halla hefted the ever-present percussion rifle. ‘No thanks, I know where I am with this.’
Lant shrugged. ‘Your choice.’
‘What about Klagga? I could do with him out there.’
‘No, Klagga stays here.’ Lant turned his attention to Travis, who had lapsed into a brooding silence. Probably planning how many pieces he’s going to cut us all up into when he gets free. ‘I don’t want the Commander to think we’re neglecting him.’ Lant clasped his hands behind his back, looking every part the grizzled military leader, or a power-hungry despot depending on how you looked at it. ‘Keep it simple. Find them. Kill them. Got it?’
‘Wait.’ Avon was out from behind his station before Vila knew what was happening. ‘We had an agreement, Lant. These people have real value—’
‘To you maybe. A smuggler, a freedom fighter and a murderer. They had their chance.’
Avon strode down towards them, ignoring the triumphant sneer that was plastered over Halla’s pallid face.
‘You don’t have to do this. Let me go with Halla. I can talk them round, make them see the benefits of working with you.’
‘Such as staying alive?’
‘That’s one of them.’
Lant fell silent, considering Avon for a moment.
‘We’re wasting time,’ Halla cut in, only to be silenced by a raise of the hand from Lant.
‘One chance, Avon. If you can talk them round, get them back under lock and key, they can live. If you fail, they’ll be shot where they stand. Does that sound fair?’
Avon nodded, reaching for a gun. Lant grabbed his arm and held it firm, his face close to Avon’s.
‘I don’t think so. This is the chance to prove your loyalty to me, not your aptitude with a gun.’
Avon twisted his arm away from Lant’s grip.
‘In that case, I shall use my charm.’
With a nod to Vila, Avon strode off the flight deck, followed by Halla’s armed guard.
Great, thought Vila looking around the flight deck. Lant settling back into the command position, Klagga with his rifle trained on Travis. Just me and the homicidal maniacs. All boys together. He glanced up to the viewscreen. The distance between the yellow triangle and the blue dot had narrowed considerably. Ready to take on the entire Federation. Perfect.
‘Zen,’ Lant called with a familiarity that made Vila shiver. ‘Distance to Space Command?’
‘SEVEN MILLION SPACIALS AND CLOSING.’
‘Excellent, then it’s time we moved to phase two of the plan. Vila?’
Vila’s heart sank at the sound of the name. Whose stupid idea was it to switch allegiances to Lant anyway?
‘Still here,’ he said, wishing he wasn’t.
Lant stood and turned to face him, an unsettling glint in his eye. ‘I have a little job for you.’