The High Ground (33 page)

She could see the ridged edges on the knuckles of the suit gloves. She dared not give him time to recover. A single blow driven by his greater mass and superior upper body strength and delivered by one of those ceramic knuckle guards might render her unconscious.

Her hand went into her boot; she yanked out the knife and flung herself onto the fallen attacker. He managed one punch that grazed the side of her jaw.
Left hand… beneath the ribcage, angle up… catch the aorta…
Chief Deal’s staccato delivery echoed through her head as she threw her full weight into the thrust. It penetrated the belly plate of the suit with the ease of a spade into soft earth. The blade was flaring along the edges, pulling a sympathetic fire from the CeraSteel armor. The man made a wheezing sound and went limp. Mercedes jumped back. She left the knife in place. The figure on the floor convulsed slightly and went still.

“You… you killed him!” Danica wavered. Her voice seemed muffled by layers of cotton.

“Damn good thing she did.” Cipriana’s voice was shrill. She stalked over to the body and pulled the knife free. Blood coated the blade. “Handy little thing,” Cipriana said, her voice jumping with tension as she handed it back to Mercedes.

She wasn’t sure what she was feeling. Numb, shocked and cold all at the same time.
I just killed somebody!
She tried to apply emotion and meaning to the words and couldn’t. It was too much to absorb.
So don’t. Act!
She grabbed a napkin, and with a shudder wiped away the blood. She then sheathed the knife and grabbed up the shotgun.

“Take his pistol,” she ordered her ladies.

“Why?” Danica demanded. “What are we doing?”

“We’ve got to find out what’s happening,” Mercedes answered.

“People are shooting!” Danica shrieked and Mercedes realized the muffled sounds she had been hearing were gunfire. “We need to stay here. Hide!”

Mercedes tried her ScoopRing and got a message that all services were temporarily offline. “Damn it!” She looked at the white-faced nun, the sobbing children. “Okay, you guys get everybody into the storeroom. Guard the door. I’ll try to reach
cosmódromo
security or get back to The High Ground.”

“You are not going out there alone,” Sumiko said firmly. “And in fact you ought to stay here and let the rest of us go.”

“I’m not leaving!” Dani again, sounding more petulant than scared.

“Fine! Stay then!” Mercedes snapped.

“You better have me or Sumiko stay with her. I’m not sure she could figure out which end of the gun shoots right now,” Cipriana said with a jerk of her head toward Danica.

“Good point.”

“Which one of us do you want?” Sumiko asked.

One of you please, please volunteer
, Mercedes thought.
Don’t make me pick. What if I pick wrong? What if I get you killed? If I pick you will you hate me? Who should have my back?

Time ticked past. Precious seconds flowing away. “Sumi, come with me,” Mercedes finally said.

“Right.” Sumiko moved to the body and pulled a pistol off the dead man’s utility belt and a strip holding half a dozen tiny grenades. “Should we take the grenades too?”

“What kind are they?”

Sumiko peered at them. “They look like flash bangs.”

Mercedes felt a desperate urge to giggle. Five months ago they would have been talking about the latest makeup colors, jewelry, the latest trend in shoes. They wouldn’t have known a flash bang from an ion engine.

“Take them,” Mercedes ordered. She grabbed a couple and shoved them into her coat pocket.

They headed for the door while Cipriana got the children moving. She then grabbed the unconscious sister under the arms and dragged her into the storeroom. Mercedes glanced back to find Dani staring at her and Sumiko.

“I’ll be all right,” Mercedes reassured. Dani’s lashes lowered, veiling her eyes, and she followed Cipriana into the storeroom.

“That knife is really interesting,” Sumiko said, reverting to professor mode as they walked out the front door. Mercedes knew it was nothing more than a coping mechanism. “It’s like it read the material it had to cut and changed on an atomic level. Did your dad give it to you?”

“No. Tracy.”

* * *

The violent list of the
cosmódromo
sent Tracy tumbling to the floor. “The Pope’s holy pecker!” he yelped as he started to float as the gravity vanished. It returned without warning and he hit the floor hard. “Who’s driving this crate?” he yelled to the room as he rubbed at the elbow he’d cracked against the floor.

He’d been sitting at his desk playing a game on his computer. He should have been studying, but there was a certain lethargy associated with the period after Christmas. Now it was just waiting until vacation was officially over and the school and the
cosmódromo
returned to normal.

A loud screech and buzz made him jump. The PA sprang to life. “This is an emergency notice. The High Ground is in lockdown. All students and personnel are to shelter in place. You will be informed when
cosmódromo
security gives the all-clear. Make no attempt to leave the academy, and we would prefer you remain in quarters.”

It sounded like Zeng’s voice which surprised Tracy. He thought the second-in-command would have been on the surface with his family, leaving some low-level aide or out-of-favor professor to man the fort.

Then the awful, sick-making memory hit.
Mercedes and the girls aren’t in the academy.
They were doing public outreach to a group of school kids in the central ring. He keyed his ring trying to reach Mercedes and discovered the Scoop network was down.

The lockdown of the academy implied that the threat was in the ring. Areas that were patrolled at peak times by
cosmódromo
security, but no one was likely to be on high alert. It was the dog days after Christmas. Most travelers had already reached their destinations and were tucked in with their families. They might even have only a skeleton staff.

The shopping frenzy was over, and the restocking wouldn’t start until next week, which meant the flood of goods through the warehouses had also probably slowed to a trickle. There was a very good chance that the burly stevedores in the spokes and hub had taken off as well. Which left four women and a class of little girls virtually unprotected.

While inside the walls of The High Ground were guns, combat armor and men trained to use them. So they were being ordered to shelter in place like kids at an elementary school? It didn’t make any damn sense.

“Fuck this,” Tracy said, and he quickly pulled on his uniform. If he did run across any
cosmódromo
security he didn’t want to get shot in the confusion. Also his uniform might provide him with a bit of authority.

He waved open the door to his room and took a cautious glance in both directions down the hall. It was clear. He headed left toward Hugo’s room, and they nearly collided at the corner.

“Sumiko.”

“Mercedes.”

It was all they had to say.

“Should we get anybody else?” Hugo asked.

“Yeah,
all
of them,” Tracy said.

“Oh, good point.”

“Split up. We’ll cover more ground faster.”

“What if you find Boho first?”

“I expect even that asshole can put aside his problems with me when we’ve got a damn crisis.”

“I wasn’t thinking about him.”

“Oh, gee thanks! Go.”

Tracy whirled and ran back down the corridor. He heard Hugo’s footfalls receding into the distance.
Am I really that much of a dick?
Tracy wondered.

He reached Mark Wilson’s room first. Prayed he would be in. The other scholarship student opened the door. His expression held both fear and excitement.

“What’s going on? You have any idea? What are you doing? Shouldn’t you be in your room?”

“Mer—the Infanta and her ladies are out in the ring.”

“So?”

“
So?
” Tracy tried to process the attitude. “We need to help.”

“Our duty is to obey the order we’ve been given.”

Tracy waved a hand in front of Mark’s face. “Hello. Infanta.
That’s
our duty.”

“I’m not disobeying a direct order.”

The almost pious tone infuriated Tracy. “You’re a fucking coward!”

Mark’s hands coiled into fists and he stepped up to bump chests with Tracy. “And you’re a fucking troublemaker. Boho and Clark and Sanjay warned me. Warned me to stay away from you. Not get your stink all over me. They say I have a real chance to get ahead. I’m not getting cashiered for disobeying orders. So you can just go sit on a stick and spin.”

Mark stepped back and the door swept closed in Tracy’s face.

His teeth gritted in frustration Tracy ran to Ernesto’s room, and found him already leaving.

“I take it we’re doing something stupid?” Ernesto asked.

“Well
some
of us are,” Tracy replied.

They moved on to Davin’s room and rang the chime. He opened the door, looked puzzled for an instant, and then delighted. “Oh good, for once I’m not the ringleader. Let me dress. Don’t want to play the hero in my jockey shorts.”

“Mostly we don’t want to look at you in your underpants,” Ernesto said.

“Hurry. Somebody’s going to notice we’re wandering around. We’ve got to be out of here before the administrators can respond,” Tracy said.

“How
are
we getting out of here?” Ernesto asked.

“One problem at a time.”

By the time Davin was dressed Tracy had received a call from Hugo telling him he had Boho. They rendezvoused at an intersection of several corridors.

“Do we know what’s happening?” Davin asked.

“Has to be some kind of attack on the
cosmódromo
,” Tracy said.

“We don’t know that,” Cullen said with an infuriatingly superior tone. “It could have been a technical problem that caused the
cosmódromo
to lose stability.”

Tracy gave him a disgusted look. “There are six different kinds of safeguards against an accidental firing of the stabilizing rockets. This had to be deliberate.”

“So what do we do?” Ernesto asked.

“Get out there and find the girls!” Hugo said.

“And get them back to The High Ground,” Tracy said. “We need weapons,” he added.

“Aren’t you making a lot of assumptions?” Cullen asked.

“I’d rather assume the worst and be happy to be wrong,” Tracy shot back.

“Tracy’s right,” Hugo said. “Let’s get to the armory.”

The armory proved to be a bust. The weapons were locked away. Ernesto spent ten minutes trying to override the lock without success. Each second seemed to be ticking past with the weight of a drumbeat.

“Forget this! We need to go.”

“If I can’t override this lock, I’m betting I can’t override the doors from the academy into the
cosmódromo
.”

“The batBEMs. Maybe they can help,” Tracy said.

“Why would you think that?” Cullen demanded.

“You’d be surprised at what they can do… and what they know,” Tracy snapped. He called Donnel and outlined the problem.

“I’m sorry to disappoint.” The alien’s image wavered in the holo. “That’s beyond our skill.”

“Shit.”

“I can buy you a little more time before administration notices you’re not in your rooms.”

“Great, do that. We’ll find another way into the ring.”

“Maybe we should just accept we can’t do anything,” Davin said.

“No. We’ll find a way,” Tracy raged as he led them away from the armory.

“What way?” Cullen demanded.

The symbol for the shuttle bay loomed up on the wall to Tracy’s right. He didn’t answer. Instead he broke into a run and entered the shuttle bay. There was a single
Infierno
parked inside.

“We take that,” Tracy said, pointing at the fighter craft.

“Maybe you can’t count, Belmanor,” Cullen drawled. “But there are five of us. The
Infierno
is a single-occupant craft.”

“There’s battle armor in the lockers,” Tracy spat. “And if whoever is piloting takes it easy we can tether ourselves to the crane hooks and ride on the outside.”

There was a flicker of something deep in Cullen’s green eyes.

Hugo slapped Tracy on the shoulder. “You’re a genius.”

Ernesto grinned at him. “I don’t know if I’d go that far, but he can certainly think on his feet.”

“Let’s
do
it,” Davin said, his voice throbbing with excitement.

They grabbed battle armor from the lockers and stripped down to their underwear. Cullen hesitated with his hand on his belt buckle. “You need somebody to run surveillance. Access the
cosmódromo
cameras, let you know what you might encounter.”

“You can do that?” Davin asked as he locked on the greaves.

“How do you think I got past all those duennas,” Cullen smirked. Davin and Hugo gave shouts of laughter that owed more to nerves than the actual humor of the remark. “I’ll get to the computer center and run the hack from there.”

It made sense what Cullen was saying, but something niggled at Tracy as he sealed the breastplate.

“Ernesto is top of our class—including in computer science. Wouldn’t that make him the better choice?” Tracy argued.

Cullen didn’t respond. Was he ignoring Tracy or marshaling an argument against him? Ernesto stepped in to fill the silence. “Look, I’m happy to go. Make Cipriana think I’m a hell of a fellow.”

Eyes narrowed, Tracy studied Cullen. “Which rather does surprise me that you’re not hoping to score some coup with the Infanta.”

“Sometimes you have to take the less glamorous role. I’m willing to do that,” Cullen said smoothly.

“Look, we can’t waste any more time arguing about this,” Hugo interrupted.

“Good point,” Cullen said. He looked at Tracy. “So if you’re done delaying us…?” Tracy gritted his teeth wondering how he had suddenly become the goat at the banquet.

“Next to Boho you’re the best pilot we’ve got,” Davin said to Tracy. “Since Boho’s hanging here you’ll need to fly the
Infierno
.”

“Okay, I’d suggest Hugo tether on one hook and you and Ernesto on the other. I’ll take it slow, and make it as short a hop as possible.” Tracy lowered his helmet, sealing it shut.