In Enemy Hands (24 page)

He looked older; the lines on his face were etched deeper and there was a touch of grey at his temples, but energy still crackled from him.

“Kad.” She should have been explaining the situation in fast, clipped sentences, but all she could say was his name, only half-believing it was really him. Had she really managed to get herself and Srin this far in their crazy escape plan? It seemed too good to be true.

The features of her old, trusted and most secretive fellow researcher stared at her from the glowing screen. Damn him, but he looked warm, wherever he was. The scene behind him was fuzzy and out of focus; it gave nothing away.

“You need my help,” he said.

It wasn’t a question, and she nodded, wondering if the desperation she was feeling was painted so clearly on her face.

“Where are you?”

“The planet’s Slater’s End, near the Fodox Stellar Barrens, eight days normal from the Suzuki Mass. I’m in a town called Wessness.”

His eyebrows rose as he consulted something off-screen. “
You’re
causing that transmission frenzy.” A small smile split his lips. “Well done, Moon. You’re giving the Republic a good run for their money.”

She swatted away his compliment with a quick flick of her hand.

“I need to get away.
We
need to get away.”

The mirth left his face. “We?”

With tears smarting at the back of her eyes, Moon bent down to where Srin cowered at her feet, shaking uncontrollably. Taking a breath, she pulled him by the collar up within view of the small monitor, showed him to Kad for a second, then lowered him gently to the littered ground.

“We.” Her voice was definite.

“Who is he?” Kad’s voice was cold. “He looks like an addict.”

“He is. His name is Turk.” Something made Moon hold back his real name. A sense of paranoia. A fear of eavesdroppers, even on what was supposed to be an encrypted line. She had come too far to get careless now.

“You’re making things difficult, Moon. I can get you out without a problem, but having to do it with two people,” his eyes flicked to the bottom of the screen, “especially with one in that condition, is awkward.”

“I wouldn’t ask you if it wasn’t important, Kad. I wouldn’t have contacted you if I wasn’t desperate.”

He gazed thoughtfully at her, then his face cleared.

“What have you got to trade?” At her look of surprise, he continued. “We’re a thriving organisation, Moon, but we don’t provide charity. If you want me to help, you have to give me a reason.”

So, she couldn’t depend solely on her previous relationship with him. Or maybe she might have been able to if it hadn’t been for Srin. She felt him tremble against her shins. Just as well she had something else.

“I have notes on my research. StellMil One.”

“I hear it didn’t work,” Kad countered.

Moon was impressed by the intelligence network he obviously had at his command. “It was deliberately sabotaged. By the man I just showed you.”

A spark lit in Kad’s eyes. “Really? Impressive. I assume from the expression on your face that you didn’t know about that beforehand.”

“That’s right.”

“So why bring him along? Leave him there and I guarantee you’ll be offplanet in hours.”

“No,” Moon answered firmly. “My
addict
comes with me.”

“Who is he, Moon?” His voice was soft. “Really?”

“No Turk, no deal, Kad,” she repeated, deflecting the question. “Take it or leave it.”

He paused, considering. “StellMil One?”

She nodded. “I destroyed the original research.” Even if the Republic could salvage the data, it would be useless without Srin. “And I’ve got the only copy of notes in the galaxy.”

And the only computer capable of deciphering them, shivering at my feet.

“You’re sure it works?”

“I…think so. The model is solid, and more advanced than what you and I worked on.”

She could see he was mulling over everything she said. Then he took a deep breath and let it out. “Very well. I’ll get you in touch with someone.”

“Turk needs medical help. And quickly. If he remains in his fever for another day, he’ll suffer permanent brain damage.”

Kad’s lips thinned in annoyance. “Are you
sure
you want him to be part of this deal, Moon? Every minute I listen to you, the situation gets worse.”

“Both of us or nothing,” she insisted.

He was unhappy with her decision. She could see it in his face, hear it in his voice. Fuck him, she thought.

“Do you have transport?”

“Yes, we have an old flyer. It still has some fuel in it.”

“Ditch it, away from this booth. Then take a passenger bullet to the northwest sector. Station One. I’ll send someone to pick you up outside. Her name is Leen Vazueb. She’s a doctor.”

“Thank you.”

“You have thirty minutes to make the rendezvous, or she leaves without you. If she gets you, I’ll be in touch again later.” His image winked out, then a thin tendril of smoke emerged from the credit slot. That, Moon thought, would be the chip self-destructing. Her only way off the planet was now fried to a crisp. She hoped the doctor was as trustworthy as Kad thought her to be.

She dreaded going anywhere near people, especially with Srin in such a bad condition, but she had no choice. Using some of the spare, solid disc cash she had in her bag, she paid for two tickets to the indicated station and boarded the first passenger bullet to the northwest of Wessness.

The ride was jerky, but kept moving along, only just threatening to grind to a halt, but never quite doing so. The elongated cabin they were seated in could hold perhaps thirty or forty people, but there were only two other stragglers. Everyone was careful to keep their faces averted, busy hoarding their own secrets.

She hugged Srin closely as she replayed Drue’s last expression in her head, over and over again. It was obvious he was defying Rosca Moises, but she didn’t know why. He was risking his career by helping them, if not his life, and jeopardising the well-being and livelihoods of any family he had. Why would he do that for two relative strangers? Was he, like Kad, a member of anti-Republic forces? Or maybe this was revenge on the consul and her less than subtle interaction skills? Did he let them go because he felt sorry for them? Or was there another reason? It had all happened so fast—just the shock of their gazes clashing had knocked every coherent thought out of Moon’s head—and then he was gone. If there was ever an opportunity in the future to repay him, assuming she and Srin made it out of their current predicament alive, she knew she would do whatever it took. She was now bound to Drue by a tie of honour.

When they reached the last station, Moon stumbled out. Srin was getting worse by the hour, and was now mumbling to himself. She managed to push him through the station’s passenger gates and they stepped into the frigid night air, made more chill by the sharp breeze that swept down the empty street.

Moon and Srin crossed to the building opposite the station. Like the majority of its neighbours, it was also derelict. It had originally been constructed of metal, but its thick pilings were now twisted and bare. Most of the covering panels were smashed or missing. Thick strokes of black streaked its sides, disappearing into the gloom above. The building was little more than a burnt-out shell, Moon thought. She sniffed the wall but couldn’t smell anything that resembled burnt material. It must have happened a long time ago.

The wind cut through their clothing and Moon’s arms started to feel numb. “Not much longer,” she whispered to Srin. She squeezed him against a pillar, clutching at his other side with one arm to keep him upright. “We’re going to see a doctor.”

Srin responded with an incomprehensible mumble. Every now and then, he drew a shocked, shuddering breath, and then fell silent. When a single spotlight targeted an area next to them fifteen minutes later, and a canopied flyer landed, Moon was too cold to move. A short woman with neatly cropped blue hair exited the bubble and hurried over to where Moon and Srin were huddled.

“Are you K’s friend?”

Moon couldn’t force any words past her frozen throat. She nodded.

“I’m Leen. Follow me.”

But, in the end, she had to help Moon and Srin stumble into the craft. Srin twitched alarmingly as he lay along the back seat, and Moon collapsed in the front, next to their saviour.

“I have a place on the southwest continent,” the woman told her. “That’s where I was when I got Kad’s call. We’ll head back there.”

Moon nodded. Then, much to her subsequent embarrassment, she fell into an exhausted and dreamless sleep.

When Moon awoke, Leen Vazueb was guiding the flyer into an underground vehicle hold.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“This is a private medical facility for the politicians and Republic administrators in this sector.” Leen snorted when she saw Moon instinctively clutch at her seat. “Relax. It stands empty most of the time. And it was built to preserve privacy, so it’s going to be easy for us to get in.”

“Do you work here?”

“Sometimes. It makes me some extra money.” She unbuckled her seat restraint. “Wait here. I’ll make sure the coast is clear.”

She slipped out of the craft in one lithe movement, and Moon watched her slim figure as it headed across the even, smooth floor to a lift-tube. She disappeared into it seconds later, heading up.

In the contained silence of the bubble, Moon heard her own breathing as a loud, tense series of inhales and jerky exhales. She unbuckled her restraint and twisted sideways to see how Srin was faring. He had fallen into a fitful sleep. Now that she was feeling a little more relaxed—at least now they had someone helping them—and out of the frigid outside air, she touched his head and realised that Srin’s fever was not as bad as she thought. He was hot, incredibly so, but had not yet reached the level he had while in her quarters. Moon estimated he still had at least half a day before the ultra-high fever kicked in and with it the threat of brain damage.

That was good, she thought, because she had just one more trick up her sleeve, but she didn’t want to resort to it. Not after last time.

She eased back into her seat and faced forward. There was little she could do now but wait, and watch as small patches of condensation formed on the inside of the flyer’s canopy. She wondered how much longer Leen Vazueb would take.

Ten minutes later, Leen emerged, trotting over to the flyer. There was something about her movements that weren’t as fluid as they were before, and Moon felt a churn of alarm twisting in her stomach.

“Who the hell
are
you?” Leen demanded roughly as she punched open the canopy and flung herself into the flyer. With practised skill, she backed the flyer out and shot off low and away from the medical centre. “Not only have they locked down the big spaceport, but they’ve done the same to every medical facility on the planet. I couldn’t even get to the medical supplies.” She jerked her head back as she flew. “I presume it’s because of
him
.”

“Yes.” Moon was certain of it.

“Well, shit, we’re in a fine mess now.” She swore with vehemence. “I don’t suppose you could’ve told me beforehand that this was what they were going to do?”

“I didn’t know,” Moon protested, but she was met with a brief, but sceptical, silence.

The flyer accelerated and suddenly banked into a turn.

“I was supposed to make one of my monthly rounds of the lunar camps,” the doctor said shortly. “I told them I couldn’t make it due to an emergency—Kad’s call—but it may be our only chance.”

Moon wanted to ask her what she meant by that, but the grim look on Leen’s face told her she was too angry and preoccupied to give a complete answer. All Moon could do was trust the doctor and hope for the best.

They cleared a series of low hills and a bright, flat field spread open in front of them. Moon saw two sets of navigation beacons, pulsing and radiating outwards from a central point, a series of low buildings and huge fibre-nets slung between tall columns of thick steel.

“This is the spaceport,” she said, fear choking her voice. Had the doctor decided they were too much trouble and were now about to turn them in to the Republic? Moon briefly considered the potential for the success of an attack on the woman, and was tensing her muscles when Leen spoke again.

“That’s
a
spaceport,” she corrected. “Not the commercial one on the other side of the planet. This is a private field.”

They landed again and Leen wasted no words on pleasant assurances. “Get out. Get him out, too. I’ll see if I can arrange something.”

Moon struggled to lift Srin’s slick and half-conscious form out of the flyer. In doing so, she woke him up. He opened his eyes but those grey depths were glazed with pain.

“Moon,” he whispered frantically, searching blindly for her with one hand.

“Hush,” she said, kissing him on the cheek. His skin was salty from sweat. “I’m here. We’re safe.”

“Hurts.”

“I know.”

Where the fuck was Leen? And she called herself a doctor!

“It won’t be long now,” she soothed. “Just hold on.”

Leen strode back in view not long after. She looked at Srin, now back to shivering and mumbling, and shook her head.

“We can’t do it.”

“Do what?”

“Smuggle you on the
Merry-Go-Round
. That’s the small cargo ship you saw parked out on the field,” she explained. “We have a shielded smuggling niche, that’s not the problem. And the captain is willing to take us to the Lunar Fifteen facility. But there’ll be a Republic team on board as well. They won’t detect you behind the shielding but if he makes a noise or hits something…” Her eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry. You’ll have to find someone else to help you.”

No. After coming this far, after throwing away the chance for a normal life, Moon was not going to let it all unravel in front of her now.

“You’re a doctor,” she said hotly. “Can’t you treat him?”

Leen met her accusatory gaze evenly and shrugged. “Sure, if we can get to the Lunar Fifteen facility. But—”

“If Srin keeps quiet, can we get on board?”

Leen remained unconvinced. “In his current state?”

“Forget his current state. If he remains quiet and doesn’t move can we get to the facility?”

“Yes, but I don’t know how you’re going to do it. Even strapping him down and taping his mouth shut won’t be enough to stop him. And my usual supplies were back at the clinic we left.”

“Don’t you carry an emergency kit with you?” Moon asked. She didn’t mean it to sound accusatory, but knew it had been taken that way by the way Leen stiffened.

“I told you I was on my way somewhere else,” the doctor snarled. “I thought this was just a lift-and-drop operation. Nobody told me otherwise.”

The two women faced each other, their bodies tense, open hostility evident on their faces. Finally, Moon let out her breath.

“I don’t want to fight you,” she said, aware of a time window that had just snapped shut in her face. “I just need some help.”

“Get on the
Merry-Go-Round
and you’ll get some. But you have to convince me first that you can keep him quiet.”

Moon looked over at Srin, curled around the flyer’s side panel and shivering. She hesitated, then reached under her jacket for her satchel. Unsealing the flap, she reached in. And withdrew a small square of sage-green material.

“What is it?” Leen asked.

Moon looked down at it distastefully. She thought she could feel the virus from the fragment of towel, like tiny ants, crawling along her fingers and up her wrist.

“This is the drug that calms him down.”

“Does it work?”

“Yes.”

“Then why haven’t you given it to him already?”

“It has nasty side-effects. Emotional side-effects,” she corrected quickly. “He’ll fall asleep once the virus enters his system.”

“And he’ll be quiet? And still?”

Moon looked at her. “Like a corpse.”

Leen stepped up close. “Okay. We’ll try this. But remember one thing? the captain and the crew of the
Merry-Go-Round
are risking their lives to help you. If we get discovered through any mistake on your part, or that of your mysterious boyfriend, you’ll be sucking vacuum within nanoseconds. Do you understand?”

Moon felt the doctor’s hot breath on her face, but it didn’t intimidate her. Nothing intimidated her anymore. It was as if, by recognising and accepting the fact that she could die, she had sloughed its fear from her flesh.

“As crystal,” she replied evenly, and briefly lifted an eyebrow. “Shall we get going?”

The voyage to Lunar Fifteen took seven hours of being confined in a long, dark, stuffy space. It was like being buried alive. For the second time since she met Srin, Moon was forced to betray him. She had gone to the
Differential
’s gym while the ship was a few hours from planetfall at Slater’s End, and stolen one of the towels. In its entirety, it was a soft but bulky item, so she ripped it until she had a squarish scrap, measuring about fifteen centimetres on either side, banking on the fact that it was quality, rather than quantity, that mattered.

She hadn’t wanted to take the cloth with her at all, but knew she needed every bit of advantage she could get. A conscious and oblivious Srin was still much better than one ostensibly cured, but left with permanent brain damage.

To her mingled disgust and relief, the towel worked its magic and Srin fell into a deep, silent sleep, his head by her feet, his feet by her hair.

Leen told her later that a Republic sensor crew had come aboard to scan the vessel, delaying the
Merry-Go-Round
’s departure by forty minutes. They found nothing to alert them, and had disembarked before lift-off.

The Lunar Fifteen facility was like nothing Moon had been on—or in. To maximise atmospheric containment, most of the Lunar Fifteen facility was built underground, with airtight locks between different sections. Leen had two of the
Merry-Go-Round
’s crewmembers deliver Srin’s unconscious form to a clinic some distance from the stubby docking tower they had locked with upon arrival. They set him down and left with quick nods of their heads to Leen. It was obvious she was a well-known, well-respected person at the exotic ore mining camp.

Moon followed, looking around. An ante-room, which looked like it handled less severe cases, contained a desk, three chairs and a narrow adjustable bed. This connected to a bay that looked a lot more serious. This is where the crewmembers had delivered Srin. The wide single bed was away from the door and below an ancient-looking bio-diagnostic panel. The panel was still dark. Did that mean it was manually activated? Or that it didn’t work at all?

The room, cramped and claustrophobic, also contained a small desk and a couple of chairs, arranged haphazardly against the far wall. On the desk sat a compact computer but, like the bio-diagnostic panel, it looked dated. The only other piece of equipment in the room was a comms unit, slapped against the wall near one of the chairs. It took some manoeuvring to walk from one room corner to another and avoid the furniture that had been shoehorned into the little hemisphere of space.

“This is the oldest clinic in the camp,” Leen said, without any prompting. “It’s far enough away from the main entrance that, if anybody tries to visit us, we’ll have enough notice to hide both of you.” She walked to the desk and sat herself on top of it, letting her legs dangle over the edge.