Drifter's Run (13 page)

By the time Lando reached the lounge Itek had already hooked himself to a bulkhead. "Lock on. We need to rehearse our plan."

"Why bother?" Lando inquired, backing into one of the four padded positions. "Why not slag the disk and be done with it? A battle wagon could do the job in half an hour, rail gun or no rail gun."

"What?" Itek asked in mock concern. "Kill hundreds of possibly innocent men, women, and children just to get the two we want? I'm shocked."

"No you aren't," Lando said stubbornly. "The navy does worse all the time. There's another reason, isn't there?"

Itek nodded approvingly. "Excellent. You
can
think. Yes, there's another reason, a good one. Our goal is to use these people as an example, to deter others, to prove we have teeth."

"So you
need
witnesses," Lando mused. "There's a problem though. A rather large one. Once we find the killers how do we get them off the disk? There are two locks, and no matter which one we use, the guards will stop us. End of story."

"I anticipated that," Itek answered calmly. "We'll avoid the locks."

"Avoid them?" Lando demanded. "How?"

"Simple," Itek answered. "We'll use explosives to make a
new
hatch."

"But that will kill everyone aboard!"

"Not if we seal the compartment off first," Itek replied patiently. "Then it's a simple matter of making the hole, stepping outside, and waiting for Martinez to pick us up."

"That's just wonderful," Lando said sarcastically. "Except for one thing. Devo's security team won't allow us to bring the explosives on board, or weapons either!"

"Oh, yes, they will," Itek replied doggedly, "because you'll smuggle them aboard."

"I'll what?"

Itek frowned. Lando's attitude was making him angry. "You'll smuggle them on board. That's what you
do,
isn't it? Smuggle things from one place to another? Well, here's a chance to show off."

"You're crazy, you know that?" Lando demanded. "Totally out of your mind. I don't do that anymore, but if I did it would take weeks of planning, and you're starting to piss me off!"

"Oh, I am, am I?" Itek demanded, his voice dangerously soft. "Well, consider this,
Citizen
Lando, either keep the deal you made, or get ready to spend the rest of your life on a prison planet!

"Now listen carefully. You're going to take the explosives I give you, plus some weapons, and place them in that trick suitcase you brought aboard. You know, the one with the secret compartment and the fancy electronics.

"Yes, I searched your belongings, just as I would
anyone
accused of murder. Then you're going to get that bag through Devo's security check or die trying. Do you read me, mister?"

There was a long silence as the two men stared each other down. Part of Lando wanted to say, "To hell with it, do your worst," but there was another part as well, the part that said, "He's right, you know, it
could
work, and if it does you keep the gold." The second part won.

"I read you, Lieutenant," Lando said finally, "and we'll do it
your
way, but on one condition. Once we get aboard
I
call the shots. Take it or leave it."

Itek smiled. "I'll take it. Now, let's cut the crap, and spend the rest of our time getting ready."

About four hours later the scout snuggled up against the space station's number one lock. The trip only took twenty minutes or so, but for security reasons only one ship was allowed to dock with Devo's Disk at any one time, so there was a long wait while other vessels loaded and unloaded passengers and cargo.

Lando and Itek were crammed into the ship's tiny lock. Both wore light-duty space suits with semiflex helmets pushed back over their shoulders. A bit cautious, but not unheard of when venturing onto a strange habitat, and not something to alarm Devo's security people.

As they waited for Martinez to complete the docking maneuver, Lando turned to Itek. "There's still something you haven't told me."

Itek grinned innocently. "Really? What's that?"

"Who we're after. It might help if I knew their names."

"Good point," Itek agreed mockingly. "Well, the answer is that we're after a man named Daniel Devo, and his wife Suzanne. They're the ones who murdered Nugleo."

Lando narrowed his eyes. "I hope that's your idea of a joke, Itek, because if it isn't, we're dead men."

"Don't be so pessimistic," Itek replied calmly. "He's just a man like you and me. Besides, we'll have the advantage of surprise. This is his home, his castle, the last place where anyone would attack him."

Lando felt pinpricks of sweat pop out all over his body. Anger rose and threatened to overwhelm him. Lando fought to keep his voice steady. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Would you have come?"

"No."

"I rest my case."

Contact was made, air pressures were equalized, and Martinez came over the intercom. "Have fun, gentlemen. Let me know when to pick you up."

Lando swore softly and stepped onto Devo's Disk. The lock was huge, large enough to handle fifty people at once, or a load of containerized cargo. As a little boy he'd wondered why. His father had forced him to reason it out, to think about the colonists, and the kinds of emergencies they might face.

What if they need to get in or out in a hurry? What if the other even larger lock was damaged? What if they had to decontaminate everything that entered or left the ship?

Lando smiled. Come to think of it his father had been good at that, good at answering a question with a question, good at forcing him to think. What should he be thinking now?

Lando swallowed the lump in his throat as he stepped out of the lock and the hatch closed behind them. Martinez was gone by now, making room for another ship at the lock, and waiting for their signal. A signal that wouldn't come if they were dead. Lando pushed the thought down and back.

The reception area was even larger than the lock and full of people. All kinds of people. Glancing around, Lando saw leather-clad pirates, syntho-suited merchants, utilitarian rim worlders, and a dozen more. Some were preparing to leave and others were in the final stages of arrival.

A woman in gray body armor used a nerve lash to point out the green line painted on the deck. She had stringy blond hair and a bored expression.

"Welcome aboard. Follow the green line to the scanners please."

With Itek at his heels Lando followed the line through the crowd and arrived in front of the checkpoint just as a couple of middle-aged women passed through it. They looked cool and relaxed, but why not? They weren't toting a suitcase full of weapons and explosives. As the women disappeared through a blast-proof door Lando wished that he were going with them.

Glancing around, Lando saw lots of security scanners, four gray-clad security guards, and enough remote-controlled weapons to stop anything short of a marine assault team.

A man stepped forward. He had a hard face, muscular arms, and the word "security" stenciled across the front of his sculpted body armor. His voice had a singsong quality.

"This is Devo's Disk. We have rules. Break the rules and you will die. Rule one. All visitors must be unarmed. That includes projectile weapons, energy weapons, fixed blades, power blades, thrown weapons, explosives, nerve gas, poisons, toxins, lethal life forms, and any other device or organism that can be used to injure or kill sentient beings. If you have such weapons, surrender them now. You can collect them when you leave."

Lando was conscious of the bag. It felt heavier now, as if the explosives and the weapons had somehow doubled in weight, and were dragging the little suitcase toward the deck.

Receiving no reply the man continued. "Rule two. In order to come aboard Devo's Disk you must be known or sponsored by someone who is. Are you known?"

"I am," Lando responded, "and Citizen La Paz here has my sponsorship."

Though the naval officer hadn't said as much, Lando assumed he was a member of naval intelligence, raising the possibility that his name had found its way into Devo's data base. With that in mind they'd agreed to call him La Paz instead.

The guard nodded. "Place both feet on the yellow X."

As Lando stepped forward, the latticework of security scanners whined and shifted subtly.

"Stand still."

Lando did as he was told. An invisible scale weighed him, beams of light checked his height, ultrasonics probed the density of his body, an eye mapper scanned his retinas, while X rays slid through his suit and inventoried the contents of his suitcase. Or tried to, because the electronics hidden inside the bag took the X rays and did mysterious things with them.

This was it, possibly the most dangerous moment they'd face, and Lando fought to sublimate his fear. It was choking the breath from him, pushing his pulse upward, and causing his eyelids to blink. All things the machines could measure.

"There's only one way to beat your fear, son," his father had said, "and that's to accept it. Remember that it's there to help you, to protect you from danger, to keep you alive. So acknowledge your fear but get outside of it at the same time."

Lando wasn't sure if it was the advice, or the process of thinking about it, but suddenly he could breathe again.

The guard spoke again. "Thank you, Citizen Lando. You may step forward. You and your guest may proceed."

Lando nodded. The blast-proof hatch whirred open. Itek stepped through with Lando close behind. As the hatch slid closed the two men found themselves in a spotless corridor. Lando set a brisk pace. The sooner the whole thing was over the better.

The bulkheads were cream-colored and so heavily layered with paint that Lando could barely see the countless rivets that held the ship together. The deck was spotless and polished to a high gloss. A maze of pipes and electrical conduit ran overhead, each one carefully color-coded, and all bright with fresh paint.

"Amazing," Itek said as he looked around. "Absolutely amazing."

"Why's that?" Lando asked absently. Most of his attention was on the task ahead.

"It's so clean, like a battleship ready for inspection, or a first-class hospital."

Lando glanced his way, saw the other man was serious, and gave a derisive snort. "Oh, I get it. Criminals are filth, ergo, so are their quarters. You're the one who's 'amazing.' This isn't some frontier world bar, it's headquarters for an extremely successful business, and it's maintained accordingly."

"Oh, I see," Itek replied sarcastically. "A nice
clean
business built on drugs and murder."

Lando started to reply but thought better of it. No matter what he said Itek would find a way to twist it into something unpleasant.

Devo's Disk was laid out like a wheel. There were three main corridors. One followed the outer circumference of the hull, one circled the vessel halfway in, and one formed a perimeter around the command and control center located at the vessel's hub.

The outermost corridor was identified as "A," the middle corridor was labeled "B," and the innermost corridor was called "C."

The corridors were connected by spokelike passageways that were numbered "P-1" through "P-16" and radiated out from the command and control center to provide quick access to all sections of the ship. They were filled with people, coming, going, or just standing around. None showed any interest in Itek or Lando.

Itek started to say something, but Lando shook his head. "No you don't. My turn, remember?"

Lando led the other man inward, jogging left on corridor B, and checking to see if they had a tail. None was visible. Good. The last thing they needed was trouble with a security snoop or some bounty hunter.

Picking up passageway seven they followed it in toward th command and control center. That's where Devo and his wife should be,
would be,
if they were aboard, and Lando felt mixed emotions. On the one hand it would be a tremendous relief if the Devos were somewhere else, but on the other he'd be disappointed as well, having risked everything for nothing.

Suddenly the smell of food found Lando's nostrils and his stomach growled in response. A section of P-7 was given over to food and recreation vendors, all of whom paid a percentage of their profits to Devo. A wide variety of food, booze, and sex was available. Most of it was intended for humans, but some was geared for aliens, or those interested in a little cross-species experimentation. Like the rest of the ship P-7 was absolutely spotless.

Eventually the restaurants and bars gave way to a series of engineering spaces, followed by the hydroponics section, and a heavily secured data-processing facility. Corridor C was just ahead.

From exploring the ship as a child Lando knew there were four airtight doors that provided access to the command and control center, one off P-1, one off P-4, one off P-8, and one off P-12.

Of these P-l was the most heavily used and the only door open to the public.

Lando took a right on corridor C and headed for the point where it would intersect with P-1.

Itek drew alongside. "Where are we…"

"Shut up and listen. In a few minutes we'll arrive at the command and control center. I'll ask the receptionist if the Devos are in. Assuming they are, we'll force our way into their private quarters, get them into their suits, and set the explosives. The ceiling of their cabin should correspond with the outside surface of the hull. After that we make a hole and hope for the best. Understand?"

Itek frowned. "Yes, but…"

"No buts," Lando snapped. "The sooner we move the better. There's the command and control center, so get ready."

The command and control center was clearly marked and softly lit. The general impression was of hushed efficiency with only the hum of office machines and the whisper of ventilation to mar the otherwise perfect silence.

Antique furniture squatted here and there, beautiful in its own right, but slightly out of phase with the painted metal behind it. The walls were decorated with an assortment of curiosities ranging from old flintlock pistols to alien hand tools.

The only person present was a balding middle-aged man. He sat behind a glass-topped desk empty of everything but a comset and a single sheet of paper.