Price of Ransom (31 page)

Yehoshua, who could not help but agree, did not answer. In time, they came down through a bank of clouds to see a carpet of trees laid out in topographic detail beneath them. A lake broke the monotone of green along one horizon, but otherwise, aside from the occasional bald strip of meadow and several watercourses cutting their silvered way through the forest, the ranks of trees stretched unbroken out along all sides.

“That’s it,” said Pinto. “That escarpment along that ridge—that clearing. I see no sign of another ship.” He looked at Lily as if expecting her to change her mind.

“Land.” Lily tapped in a tight beam to the other shuttle but did not call on it. Bach winked blue lights in the seat behind her. Pinto shook his head slightly, but he brought the shuttle in smoothly, landing on a fairly level patch of ground as close to the center of the clearing as he could manage. The engine volume cut substantially as he lowered the engines to standby. There was silence in the cabin as the three men waited. Lily unstrapped herself, unstrapped Bach, and headed for the hatch.

“Lower the ramp. Deucalion, don’t try to follow me. I’m going out alone.”

“But—” All three men spoke at once. Lily paused at the hatch lock and stared each one down in turn. Deucalion took the longest, but he, too, did not attempt any further objection.

Lily paused at the top of the ramp, Bach hovering behind her. The brush of air against her face, the high fence of trees about fifty meters from the shuttle, reminded her of her landing on Arcadia. She tried to remember how many planetfalls she had made in the intervening time; it had not been many. And she smiled, thinking how ironic it seemed that she had gone to so much trouble to escape the confines of Ransome House only to confine herself in the thin, constraining walls of a spaceship.

Movement caught at her peripheral vision, and she turned her head in time to see one of the Ardakians fade back into the screen of forest. She walked down to the bottom of the ramp and waited.

Wind brushed a stray lock of her hair across her eyes, obscuring her vision, and as she reached up to brush it away, two figures appeared at the edge of the trees. One was stocky, not much taller than her; she recognized Korey Windsor immediately. The other figure—tall, slender—stood with a posture unfamiliar to her. A moment later she realized that with that pale blue hair, faded out in the bright sunlight, it could only be Kyosti, who at any other time she would have recognized at a glance from twice the distance. With a sudden wrench of fear, she wondered if he still remembered her, or if the break from Concord’s prison had broken the tenuous link she had reforged with him. Without thinking, she took ten steps out away from the ship, caught herself, stopped, and waited again.

Windsor moved, and Kyosti walked forward, Windsor a steady two paces behind him. They walked hallway into the gap between trees and shuttle, and halted. In the forest behind Lily could discern no sign of either Fred or Stanford.

Bach, at her shoulder, sang softly.

Herzliebster, was hast du verbrochen, Dass man ein solch scharf Urteil hat gesprochen?

“Beloved, what has thou done wrong that they have pronounced so hard a sentence?”

Lily reached up to lay a hand gently on his gleaming surface. “Don’t worry,” she replied quietly. “He doesn’t have me yet. Why do you think I brought you along?”

Hast thou a plan, patroness?

“No,” she admitted. “First, to get Kyosti back. If I’m the price for that, so be it.” She began to walk, to meet Windsor. Floating behind her Bach sang in muted tones, as if he were speaking to himself, or musing over some problem.

Was wollt ihr mir geben? Ich will ihn euch verraten.

“What will ye give me, and I will deliver him unto you?”

Nearing them, Lily saw Kyosti tilt his head from side to side, scenting. Then, abruptly, she knew he had caught her scent by the way his attention—even if signaled only by the turn of his head—fastened onto her. Windsor stood beside him in the deceptively casual stance of a well-honed fighter. Lily forced herself not to look at Kyosti, to look only at Windsor. Closing, she was surprised to see that whatever signs of dissipation and weariness she had discerned before in him were completely gone now: it was not just his Ardakian companions who made him dangerous and effective. Seeing him now, she could not help for a moment but be reminded of Master Heredes. She halted three meters from him and allowed herself a glance at Kyosti.

Kyosti’s gaze did not waver from her face. She could feel it remain on her even as she turned to regard Windsor.

“I’m unarmed,” he said. He grinned. It made his face come alive. “I haven’t had this kind of challenge in a long, long time.”

“Boredom can take its toll,” she replied. “How the Hells did you get him out of there?”

“Trade secret. It helps to have a computer expert and an explosives expert to hand as well. Just like the old days.” He was still grinning, but no longer at her. “They’ve forgotten that there wasn’t a security line that we couldn’t breach.”

“Who’s forgotten?”

His expression sobered instantly. “It’s not important. Are you turning yourself in to me? No tricks?”

“I’m unarmed. That’s the only guarantee I’ll give you. Until Hawk is free.”

“And then—?”

“Then I’ll go with you.”

For a moment he merely gazed at her, trying to read something, but he merely shook his head and took one step back from Kyosti. Spoke several sentences in the language of the je’jiri.

Kyosti swiveled his head smoothly to regard Windsor with the characteristic unblinking and disconcerting je’jiri stare. His reply, clipped and precise, was short.

Windsor shook his head again and answered, still in the alien language. His delivery did not have the precision of Kyosti’s, but it sounded fluent to Lily’s ears.

“What are you saying?” she demanded.

His reply was brusque. “Telling him he can go free.”

“My shuttle—”

“Not into your hands. Not into anyone’s hands.
Free
.”

“You said you would trade him for me.”

“Trade you for his freedom. There’s a difference.” The brilliant light of Discord’s sun illuminated harsh lines—not of age, but of old dissipation—on his face. “I won’t allow him to be forced back into that prison. I agree to let him go. Not to you.”

“Not to anyone?” she echoed, sardonic now. “You have no honor at all, have you? You can’t even be trusted to hold a simple agreement.”

“No honor among thieves.” His voice was bitter. “But there is loyalty. People forget that.”

“I’d like to know what makes you think
I’d
let him go back to prison.”

He shook his head. “Even if you meant not to, how could you stop it? Stop Concord from taking him in again?”

“Once you let him go ‘free,’ how can you stop them?”

“At least he’ll have a chance to get to The Pale.”

Lily deliberately looked away from Windsor and directly at Kyosti. He returned her gaze intently, but neutrally.

“Kyosti.” She spoke slowly and with careful enunciation, so that he would have no trouble understanding her. “The shuttle behind me carries three men. I trust them to take care of you. Will you go with them until such time as I can return to you?”

“Yes,” he replied without hesitation.

For a moment, she allowed herself to be diverted by Windsor’s expression: he look dumbfounded. Then, catching himself, he spoke swiftly and passionately to Hawk. Hawk’s reply was brief, punctuated by a shrug made alien by the set and movement of his shoulders, and he moved away from Windsor to align himself instead with Lily.

“Now,” said Lily. The relief she felt—the simple joy—at Kyosti’s complete trust was abruptly overshadowed by the knowledge that she was about to lose him again.

“You’re his
mate
?” Windsor stared, astonished, at her. “Mother’s tits. No
wonder
you were willing to trade yourself for him. I had a hunch you’d do it, but I didn’t know why.” He lifted a hand, and at the signal the two Ardakians appeared at the edge of the forest. Both were armed. Both used the cover of the trees to effectively shield themselves from any fire the shuttle might produce. “Sorry,” Windsor continued, apologetic. “But I can’t take the chance that you’ll try to escape again. Fred’s got enough firepower to blow the shuttle, and it is rather a sitting target. You might have positioned it better.”

“I always meant to keep my end of the exchange. Hawk for me. I trust”—she let her voice grow skeptical—“you’ll let both Hawk and the shuttle go.”

Windsor laughed, brief and bitter. “I’ve got a damned poor reputation, don’t I?” He sobered abruptly. “Tell him to go. I want to get this over with.”

“Kyosti.”

Instead of replying, he dipped his head, brushing her cheek with one side of his face, and then walked away across the meadow, toward the shuttle. In the silence of the vast landscape, unpopulated by any humanity but themselves, a high buzzy whine sounded in the distance, steady and growing.

“I’ll be damned,” Windsor breathed. “How in hell did you end up with Hawk?”

But finally, several discrete bits of information clicked into place in Lily’s mind. “You were a saboteur. That’s how you know him.
That’s
where your loyalty lies.”

“You pissing well didn’t think it lay with Concord Intelligence, did you?” He sounded offended, and taken by surprise.

Lily laughed. “Damn my eyes!”

His surprise turned to suspicion. “What’s so damn funny? I know you weren’t one of us.” The harsh lines on his face furrowed, giving him a look of great pain. “Bastards. Those pissing bastards.”

Lily reached inside her tunic and drew out the medallion. Seeing it, Windsor lost his color—the pasty white of his face made him look sick and hopeless. “What does this mean anyway?” she asked. “Do you know?”

“How did you get that?” His voice was so tight that she could barely hear it. “How did you meet Hawk?” He paused, and she waited, aware that he was about to say something else, but was reluctant to. “How—how do you know Gwyn?”

“I got this from him. He’s my father.”

Windsor blanched. He looked beyond Lily, and she glanced over her shoulder to see that Kyosti had reached the shuttle but had halted at the ramp, watching them. Looking back at Windsor, Lily suddenly and inexplicably felt guilty, because it was obvious that this new knowledge was causing the bounty hunter inner anguish. The distant whine had grown to a low rumble.

“You’re Gwyn’s
daughter
?” It was as much as he could do to get those three words out.

“Not by blood,” she said quickly.

“No, you mean in the craft.” He looked abruptly and terribly sad. “It comes to the same thing. Oh God, they betrayed us both.”

It took her a blink to register his words. “What are you talking about?”

“Go,” he said brusquely. “Take Hawk and go. They just said you’d been traveling with Gwyn. I didn’t ask for specifics. I didn’t want to know. I damned well spent the whole hunt pretending it was just a coincidence, that and the mark.”

“What mark?”

“The medallion. Just go. I can’t take you in now.”

“Wait a minute—”

The rumble arced up to a scream, and a ship buzzed low and fast over the meadow. It was a sleek, modern vessel of a type she had never seen before. As she stared, it overshot the meadow, banked and turned, and returned, lower now.

Windsor swore, reached out, and yanked Lily roughly to the ground. She fell flat on her stomach beside him.

Fire streaked out from the ship—laser fire. Streaks of flame lit and died in the grass. There was a sudden, horrifying snap, followed by a low explosion, and a gout of fire and smoke erupted from the shuttle’s far window—Lily rolled to her feet.

“Get down!” Windsor shouted.

Kyosti still stood by the ramp, staring up as the ship banked and turned again for its return. He showed no indication that he was aware that he was in any danger.

Deucalion appeared, stumbling down the shuttle’s ramp. Smoke billowed out behind him.

“Fred. Stanford.” Windsor spoke to himself, and yet obviously to the two Ardakians who were clearly too far away to hear him. “Can you get a shot?”

Already the ship was firing again. Seams of light peppered the metal of the
Hope
’s shuttle. Lily began to run, but someone—Windsor—tackled her from behind and threw her headlong into the grass. Laser fire singed grass and dirt one meter in front of her face. Behind, from the cover of the trees, two guns sounded.

“Let me go,” she cried, and struggled, but Windsor, whatever his other faults, was as trained a fighter as she was—and he had far more experience on his side.

At the grounded shuttle, smoke and fire streaming from every opening and several ragged holes, Deucalion yelled something at Hawk and then turned to go back inside. Hawk did not move, oblivious to everything but the arc and turn of the ship in the sky above as it banked for its next pass.

“We’re the targets,” Windsor shouted. “Break for the trees.” He tugged at her, and did not let go as she rose with him. “You can’t help them by going to them. Break!” They ran for the trees.

Fire seared the meadow around them as they sprinted. She felt its hot breath sting her cheek and singe her hair. They flung themselves into the cover of the nearest tree, not five meters from Fred.

Seeing them, he lowered his large gun. It looked archaic, but effective. “Sorry, boss. No range at their speed.”

Lily turned.

In time to see Deucalion reel, alone, out of the
Hope’s
shuttle. Hawk still watched the sky. The other ship banked again.

A beat, and then Yehoshua appeared dragging a limp Pinto with one arm and carrying the shuttle’s hand-pack radio in the other. Deucalion helped him maneuver Pinto down the ramp.

Hawk, finally, turned, registering the men’s presence with sudden interest. Words were exchanged. Deucalion hoisted Pinto across his back. The men jogged as well as they could away from the shuttle.

The other ship dipped low, firing.

This time the shuttle vanished in an explosion that threw the three men and the unconscious Pinto on to the ground. Lily felt it, a wave of heat and pressure, even as far as the trees.