Priestess of the Eggstone (19 page)

The shuttle left in fifteen minutes from a dock across the station. We would have to hurry.

“We’ll be back in time,” I said. We had to be. Lady Rina didn’t put deadlines on things without meaning them.

The station was bigger and busier than any I’d ever been in. The stations in the outer system were utilitarian, mining and transfer points. Besht’s station was designed for passengers, high-paying customers for the big trans-system liners. Steel girdered ceilings hid behind huge lights that mimicked sunlight. Planters ran up the walls, greenery cascading down.

We barely made the shuttle, arriving at the ticket desk just as the last boarding call went out. The shuttle was almost full with only three empty seats left. Jerimon took the one in front between two very old, very wealthy ladies, to judge by the size of the gems festooning their fingers. I had a choice between sitting next to a very fat man or a boy who looked about ten. I chose the boy.

The launch warning sounded just as I sat. I clicked my lap belt closed.

The boy poked my arm. I glanced at him, then away. The shuttle lurched as it undocked. I clenched my hands on the armrests. I hated not being the one flying. I hated not seeing where we were going.

The boy poked the ship patch on my sleeve. “What’s that?”

“That’s the ship I fly.” I hoped the boy would pester someone else.

“What kind of ship looks like that?” He picked at the swan embroidered on the patch.

I pushed his hand away. “The ship doesn’t look like that. It’s named for a swan, a mythical bird.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s what the owner wanted to name it.”

“You aren’t the owner?”

“No.”

“Then what do you do?”

“I’m a pilot.” Outside the shuttle, the atmosphere of Besht screamed past.

“If you’re a pilot, how come you’re flying on a shuttle?” The boy picked his nose, then examined his finger before wiping it on his pants. “Why aren’t you flying it yourself?”

“Because I don’t work for the shuttle company.”

“Why not? Aren’t you good enough?”

“Did you know it’s rude to ask so many questions?” I swallowed nervously as the shuttle banked.

“Yeah. Mom says I’m not supposed to bother people with questions. She says I’m rude all the time. Don’t you know how to fly a shuttle?”

“I can fly shuttles, I’d just rather fly a ship.”

“What kind of ship?” He picked in his nose again.

“A big one.” I was hoping he would get more interested in his nose than me. It didn’t work. His eyes got big; he left his finger partly in his nose, forgotten.

“How big? One of those huge tankers? Or do you fly the big liners? Mom said she’d take me on one of those. We’re going to visit my dad on Vega next month.”

Vega was one of the inner worlds, those closest to the seat of the Empire; rich, settled, civilized worlds I never dreamed I’d ever see. I imitated Lady Rina and raised one eyebrow.

“He works there sometimes. He’s a Council representative.” The boy dismissed it as if it meant nothing.

I stared. This brat was a Council Member’s son? Each Sector of the Empire sent representatives to the Council of Worlds which ruled the Empire jointly with the Emperor. Many of the Council positions were hereditary, and all of them spoke of power and wealth.

The boy squirmed in his seat. “My dad wants to buy his own ship. Then I’ll get to watch when we land. Maybe I’ll even be his pilot.” He eyed me critically. “Maybe I’ll be the captain instead.”

“I used to be a captain,” I said before I could stop myself.

“What did you do?”

“I owned my own ship. It had problems and blew up.”

He laughed. “You’re funny. Everyone knows ships don’t blow up anymore.”

“Are you sure about that? Do you know what could go wrong right now with this shuttle?”

“Nothing,” he scoffed. “Shuttles are safe.”

“Not always. If the stabilizers failed, the shuttle would start rolling and break apart in the air.”

He stared with round eyes. “Do they do that?”

“Stabilizers fail all the time. Then it’s up to the pilot to bring the ship down safe.” I thought back to the training courses at the Academy. “Or the shield could fail. Then we’d burn up, like a big meteor. Or the fuel lines could break. If that happened, we’d either suffocate from the fumes or the whole engine stops and we crash. After we fall a long, long way.”

The boy stared, eyes so big they bulged.

His mother glared from the far seat. “How dare you scare him like that!” She wrapped her arm around him. “None of it’s true, Robert,” she said in a sickly sweet voice.

I looked forward, trying to ignore her. If her precious son had minded his own business I would never have scared him. It was his fault. I tapped my fingers on the armrests. I wanted off the shuttle. It drove me crazy not being in control.

The boy poked me in the arm again. I glanced down. He stuck his tongue out. I gave in to the impulse and stuck mine out, too, after making sure his mother was busy with her handcomp. He stuck his out farther and crossed his eyes. I crossed mine. He screwed up his face, thinking, then tugged his ears out and waggled his tongue back and forth. I was saved from thinking of a way to one-up him by the thump of wheels hitting the ground.

The boy’s mother glared her disapproval as she gathered her bag.

I pushed my way into the aisle and joined the line leaving the shuttle. I glanced over my shoulder. The boy was five people behind. He stuck his tongue out when he saw me. I shuffled forward, ignoring him.

Jerimon had one old lady on each arm. They clung to him, completely charmed. They both hugged him enthusiastically as he turned them over to their families.

I eyed them as I joined Jerimon. “Why do I get stuck with the brats?”

“Old ladies are my specialty. Is that the boy?” Jerimon gestured at the boarding gate.

The boy clomped along with his face screwed up in a scowl. He saw me watching and gave me a sly grin, daring me to tell his mother.

“He does a great imitation of you,” Jerimon said, laughter hiding behind his comment.

“Stuff it somewhere.” I looked for a map of the city.

“You should try to be more charming. You’d make fewer enemies and more friends that way.”

“Leave me alone, Jerimon.” I tried to make sense of the map at the entrance of the station.

“Dace, with a little effort, you could actually be likable.”

“Shut up, Jerimon.” I leaned close, squinting at the scale on the map. “We’ve got to cover over thirty miles of city. Any suggestions how?”

“We take the ground shuttle, right out there.” He pointed out the front door.

I was tempted to kick Jerimon, but the boy and his mother were leaving through the door in front of us. I didn’t want her filing a complaint against me. The boy grinned and stuck out his tongue.

Chapter Sixteen

It took us an hour to reach Lueden. We got off the tram at the main station. I looked at the address for Kile Wells, comparing it to the map on the wall. It was hopeless. I had no idea where we were supposed to go.

Jerimon took the paper away. “We go that way,” he said, pointing. “It’s only a few blocks.”

We walked from the station.

Jerimon stopped outside a large storefront with a sign advertising peculiarities and collectibles in letters four feet high. He pushed the door open then went inside. The street was clean, middle class, moderately busy with midday traffic. I had a prickling along my neck I’d learned not to ignore. Someone was watching. I ducked into the store.

The place was packed with junk. High-priced junk, I noticed as I wandered along the crowded aisles. Jerimon leaned on a desk at the back of the store, talking to a pretty girl. She was all dimples and curly red hair. Jerimon flirted for all he was worth.

I fingered a set of glass bottles in fanciful shapes, watching the street through the main window. A dark groundcar stopped in front of the store. Men in dark suits with suspicious bulges climbed out, spreading out from the car towards the store. I set the bottle on the shelf then hurried to the desk.

“Is there a back way out?” I asked the dimpled redhead.

“Why?” Jerimon asked.

I pointed to the front of the store.

The redhead frowned, sticking out her prettily plump lower lip. “You can’t go back there.”

“Who are they?” Jerimon asked.

“I don’t have any idea, but with our luck, they want us.” I stared the redhead down. “We’re using the back door.”

“You can’t!” She rose from her chair. She wore a very tight knitted dress that showed off a lot of curves and completely distracted Jerimon.

The front of the store crashed in a shower of glass. Men in dark suits poured inside, moving swiftly down the aisles of junk.

I grabbed Jerimon’s arm and lunged for the back door. The redhead screamed, prudently diving under the desk.

We slammed through the back door, letting it bang shut. The hall beyond was dim. I scrambled for a lock. It was a flimsy frame lock that wouldn’t stop anything. Jerimon darted into the office. He grabbed a stack of files, then crammed them into a bag hanging on the back of the door.

“She didn’t tell me who bought the Eggstone,” he panted as we ran out the back into an alley. “I hope the receipt is one of these papers.”

Men stepped into the mouth of the alley, men with big guns and dark suits. We skidded to a stop then ran the other way.

The alley narrowed and twisted behind the stores. The men shot their weapons. Projectiles snapped chips from the walls as we ran through the maze.

The alley opened into a street. Jerimon put on a burst of speed. More men in dark suits appeared at the far end of the alley. Jerimon slid to a stop on some garbage. I rammed into him.

“What now?” he asked.

I looked around frantically. Men with guns flanked us on both sides. Doors for shops opened into the alley. I rattled the nearest handle, pushing the door open. We ducked inside, slamming the door on the guns.

We’d just invaded a very busy kitchen. The chefs stared at us.

“Excuse us, please.” Jerimon smiled his most charming smile. He took my elbow, hustling me towards the front of the restaurant.

Two chefs with very big, very sharp cleavers shouted. We both put on speed, crashing out of the kitchen into the dining area. Jerimon swung the door shut with his heel. The chefs slammed into it, cursing loudly. We ran through the restaurant, threading our way between tables and astonished diners. We were almost at the door when I tripped over a dessert cart.

Pies went flying. A cream cake landed in one diner’s hair. Fruit creams hit the wall, splattering bright colors. Jerimon shoved me towards the door. Men swarmed the street, searching doorways. I shoved back.

“Those men are out there.” I wiped futilely at the chocolate spattered over my front.

“We’re dead if we stay here. Run for that alley across the street.”

I took a deep breath and slammed my way outside, trailing chocolate cream. I ran across the street and dove into the alley, Jerimon right on my heels. The chefs erupted from the restaurant, screaming and waving their cleavers. The men in dark suits scrambled to chase us down, pushing the chefs aside.

We ran blindly down alleys, darting across streets as we came to them, until we reached the edge of the commercial blocks. Across the street were nothing but homes with large yards, big trees, fences, and nasty-looking dogs.

“Now what?” I panted, leaning against the alley wall.

Jerimon ran a finger down my cheek.

I pushed his hand away.

“Chocolate,” he said, holding up his finger. He licked it off as he studied the street beyond. “I don’t know. Do you have any suggestions where to go now?”

The shouts behind us grew in volume. The restaurant owner and the thugs weren’t the only ones after us now. From the sound of sirens wailing in the distance, someone had called in the local police.

“We’re in trouble,” I said. “And we don’t even know if we got what we came for.”

Jerimon hefted the bag of files he’d swiped. “I hope it’s in here.”

“Maybe if we hid in someone’s yard for a while,” I suggested, knowing it wasn’t going to work. The dog in the nearest yard growled, pacing along the fence.

“What about the roofs?” Jerimon suggested. A flitter with a big police symbol on its belly whined overhead. “Forget that.”

“We could steal a car, but I don’t know how to drive one.”

“We could turn ourselves in.”

“And hope Lady Rina bails us out? I doubt she’d do that.”

“Well? If we just stand here, someone is going to catch up to us. Rather soon, I’d guess.”

I stared at the ugly dog and wished for a miracle. It came in the form of a big delivery truck that crawled to a stop in front of the alley. The driver made a show of checking a clipboard allowing a swarthy man to duck out on our side. He motioned to us, twisting his fingers through the air.

“Who’s side is he on?” I sized the man up. “You jump him and I’ll threaten the driver. Maybe we can get him to take us to the port and we can buy our way back.”

“I don’t think we need to,” Jerimon said. “He’s Family.” Jerimon scuttled out of the alley and slipped into the truck. The swarthy man gestured urgently at me. I hoped Jerimon knew what he was doing, trusting him as I followed. I crawled into the back of the truck, the swarthy man at my heels. As soon as we were in, the driver started the engine. The truck crawled along the street.

“Quickly,” the swarthy man said, “you must change. Those uniforms are too noticeable.” He said nothing at all about the chocolate, cream, and berries smeared on mine. He handed us both jumpsuits, the kind worn by laborers at any dock. He crawled past stacks of boxes to the back, keeping watch out the window. I eyed Jerimon. He calmly unzipped his shipsuit, then flexed his chest muscles. I rolled my eyes and turned my back.

Changing clothes in a moving truck while trying to stay covered is a challenge. I yanked the suit on as fast as I could. It helped that it was several sizes too big. I zipped it then sat, waiting.

The man came back and handed me a grimy hat, then climbed into the front of the truck. Jerimon sat next to me. He had a hat, too, but his didn’t look near as dirty. “If we are stopped, don’t say anything. Let Toby do the talking. We’re just hired help.”