The Huntress (27 page)

“I tracked them down and killed them all, a lot more quick and humane than any of ‘em deserved. Didn’t even bother to put them into custody. First time I’d ever used the sanction to kill for something other than defending myself, but I didn’t regret it, not then and not now. When I told her it was done, she just looked at me and said thank you. First words she ever spoke to me. And I swore to her—”

He pulled his hand away from his face and pounded it on the bar top, turning red glowering eyes toward Stone. “I swore I would never let something like that happen to her again! Never!” Then he put his face in both hands, fingers digging into the flesh around his eyes. “I should never have given that mission to her.”

Stone’s paralysis broke and he lunged at the older man, grabbing his shirt in both fists and nearly sending them to the floor. “Tell me!” he snarled into Conley’s face, tensing in expectation of violence, but the director just looked at him with sorrow in his eyes.

“Mission went bad,” he said simply. “They’ve been taken by slavers.”

They?
Stone gaped in disbelief at the other man. “Both of them?”

“Yes, Mea and Regan. Warren’s been deactivated and possibly dismantled. They left Ema alone.”

He let go of Conley, straightening slowly. Shock and dread throbbed behind his eyes. “Are they dead?”

“No. They’re holding them as hostages, so they claim.”

That was all Stone needed to hear. Snagging his carrysack and hoisting it to his shoulder, he headed toward the door with long, hard strides.

“Wait! I need your help—”

He didn’t wait, nearly jogging toward the port even though the suns were an unbearable force of heat and light on his abused head. His eyes still hadn’t adjusted—he hadn’t given them the opportunity, and now it felt like hot pokers stabbing through his eyeballs even with his goggles on.

Conley caught up with him. “I suppose I can talk and walk at the same time,” he grumbled, shooting Stone an annoyed look out of the corner of his eye. “I need your help because I can’t send any of mine in after them. I’d just be giving them more hostages. They’ve figured out the composition of the metal alloy that hunters have on their bones. Hunters aren’t the only ones with metal grafted to their bones. Half the military has done it and most of the grunts that work for the Miner’s Guild, but our alloy is the most flexible, strongest, and least likely to be rejected by the body. The composition is supposed to be a trade secret, but—”

Conley shrugged, squinting up at the suns balefully.

“Somebody leaked it. Now they have a way to tell the hunters apart from the rest of the rat race. They tagged Mea right away, and if I send in one of mine or I go myself, they’ll know in a heartbeat. Short of an all out war, the Hunting Corp is helpless on this one. That’s why I need your help. They won’t know you from Joe Rat.”

He paused, eyeing Stone closely. Stone tried very hard not to look like he was about to pass out from heat stroke, even though his head had started throbbing sickeningly and his brain felt several sizes too big for his skull.

“I know it means you’ll be in danger. What’ll it take to get you to go after them? If it’s within my power to get it for you, it’s yours.”

“Conley, I’m already going. I may as well use you to get me there,” he muttered, trying not to sound as nauseous as he felt. He didn’t look at the other man but heard the relief in his voice.

“Thank you. I wasn’t sure…” The older man cleared his throat, and Stone saw him shrug. “Anyway, I was hoping you’d say that, so I’ve already instated you as a hunter, full authority, including sanction to kill—ought not to be too hard for you. Been there before, haven’t you, convict?”

Stone ignored his bitter dig, concentrating on walking in a straight line and not puking on the man’s shoes. Apparently his silence was enough of an answer.

“I haven’t forgotten what you are or what you did to my girls. I warned you what would happen if you hurt Mea, but if you get them out of there, consider your death sentence suspended.”

The moment called for sarcasm, but Stone just wasn’t feeling up to it. Instead, his sun-baked brain zeroed in on a different part of the man’s speech. “What did she say?” he asked through clenched teeth, staring desperately through the cruel light and heat haze at the endless street in front of them. Where the hell was the port?

“It wasn’t what she said. Didn’t say anything, actually. It was how she looked. You put a stake through her heart, convict, and if the situation wasn’t so damned desperate, I’d be ripping you into tiny pieces for it.”

The older man’s tone was conversational, but Stone could feel the anger baking off him like a third sun. The force of it didn’t help his nausea any. They walked on in silence for a few minutes while Conley got his anger under control and watched Stone without a hint of pity.

“What were you trying to do back there, drink yourself stupid or dead?”

“Already been stupid.”

“No argument here,” Conley snorted then muttered something low and angry. “Give me the damn bag before you fall on your face. You’re no good to me flat out with heat stroke, you numb-headed, piece of…” The rest was lost as he grumbled irritably under his breath.

Stone ignored his insults and gratefully let the carryall slide off his shoulder. He was past pride, concentrating on just putting one foot in front of the other.

Suddenly the endless walk was over, and Conley was shoving him up the ramp of a ship. When he stepped through the hatch, the cool relief inside made his head reel and he staggered. Leaning on one wall, he pressed his overheated forehead against the cold metal in gratitude and thought he might just stay like that forever.

“The infirmary’s just around the corner. You can lie down.”

Stone ignored him.

The older man sighed. “Don’t make me carry you, convict.”

Seemed he still had some pride left after all. He straightened and moved off down the corridor, bracing a hand on the hull as he went. Stepping through the door that Conley indicated, he immediately went to the EMU’s table and laid down on it with a relieved groan.

“This one is not in good shape, Director,” a mild voice said in tones that could have been either male or female. “He is suffering from mild heat stroke, dehydration, intoxication, malnutrition, and sleep deprivation. He won’t be ready for cryogenics for at least—”

“He’s not a target, Min.”

“Ah. My apologies.”

Stone shut his eyes against the light, barely noticing the needles pricking his arm. He felt better by the second, and urgency started to gnaw at him again.

“I will do what I can for him, but when he wakes up I will require him to eat and drink. I’ll give you a list of what he needs—”

“What I need is to be on the move. If you don’t start this ship, Conley, I will.”

He didn’t hear the director’s answer, though. Even as he spoke, he could feel the world pulling away from him.
Drugged again
was his last thought as he lost consciousness.

“You people gotta stop doing that,” were his first words when he woke up.

“Doing what?”

“Knocking me out.” He rolled slowly to a sitting position, testing his head and stomach for any lingering aches. His stomach complained only of hunger, but his head still throbbed dully. He would count himself lucky, though, if all he had out of a ten-day bender was a mild hangover.

“It was medically necessary, Mr. Stone.”

He raised his eyebrows at the “Mr.” but said nothing. He still couldn’t tell if the voice was male or female.

“Thanks for fixing me up.”

“I wouldn’t call you fixed just yet. You need to recuperate. The mess is across the way. You can’t miss it. I want you to eat bland foods and drink plenty of fluids, but no alcohol.” There wasn’t any disapproval in the AI’s tone, just firm professionalism.

“I could really use a shower first.”

Ema would’ve had all kinds of things to say about that, but this one said only, “This infirmary is equipped with a sanitary,” and a door slid open to his right.

Stripping quickly, he stuffed his ripe clothes in the sanitizer before stepping into the small stall. He’d expected hot water and grimaced in disappointment when the shower turned out to be sonic. Funny how a person could get used to little luxuries so quickly. Like Regan’s smile or Mea’s touch.

Snarling his pain and anger, he hurried through cleanup, aware by the thrumming in his heels that the ship was on the move. Yanking on his clean clothes, he stalked out of the infirmary and searched the small ship for Conley. He quickly found him in the tiny control room. “Where are we?”

“We’re about five and a half days from where we need to be.” He shot Stone a tight smile. “Got some time to kill. You look better—smell better, too. Have you eaten?”

Stone didn’t answer, trying to come to grips with the idea that he’d have to leave Mea and Regan in slaver hands for five and a half more days.

“If you don’t eat, Min’ll pester the hell out of you.”

“Can’t this thing go any faster?” he asked hoarsely, trying not to picture them in chains.

“Not without blowing the engines. Come on, we can discuss the plan over food.”

Conley stood up, which forced Stone back. There wasn’t much room to maneuver in the tiny space. Reluctantly he led the way to the mess, fighting to keep thoughts of whips and pain away.

“They may not survive five and a half days,” he muttered low, but in the close confines of the mess, Conley heard him.

“The girl will be okay, I think. She’s smart enough to keep her head down and behave. It won’t be easy on her, but I think she’ll live. It’s Mea I’m worried about.”

His voice was calm and conversational, but a glower lowered his eyebrows and his hands shook as he pulled two plates out of the warmer. There was no table in the small room, so they activated seats and sat at the counter to eat. Afterwards, Stone would have no memory of what they ate. He just shoved it woodenly into his mouth, bite by bite, knowing he needed it but not tasting any of it.

“She’s not going to cooperate,” the director continued, stabbing his food aggressively with a fork. “She probably should go along with it, do as she’s told, and bide her time—but she won’t. They put a darkness in her when they killed her parents, and she will kill any of them that come near her, especially since they have her daughter. They should keep her alive—they’re barbaric, not stupid—but she might push them too far.”

“If you knew she’d react like that, why’d you send her?” Stone snarled, not bothering to soften the accusation in his voice.

The older man’s face darkened, but he answered calmly enough, “I knew how she’d react to being captured. I didn’t know she would be. In case you hadn’t noticed, she’s the best there is, and I say that as her director, not the man who raised her. The chances of her being captured were slim, as far as I knew. They probably still had a hell of a time, even if they did take her by surprise.” He heaved a sigh and ran a hand over his face. “And I thought she was ready. Warren said that she’d told Regan the story of her parents and was even singing the lullaby to her. She controlled herself so well with those slavers on Belata. Didn’t kill a one of ‘em. I thought she’d be ready for this step, thought she was finally healing.”

Stone had nothing to say to that. They ate silently for a few minutes.

“So what’s the plan?”

Conley shoved the food away from him with a grimace and took a large swig of his coffee before answering, “They’re expecting me to retaliate. Even if they don’t know about my relationship with Mea, they still know how I get about my hunters. If I don’t react overtly, they’ll be suspicious of every outsider, expecting a spy. So when I got the word, I ordered every hunter ship in the area to converge on their planet and blockade it from any space traffic, coming or going. I spoke to their leader directly, demanding their return. I won’t get into the details of what was said, but nobody used any nice words. I was very public with my outrage. Hopefully they’ll concentrate on me beating my chest and they won’t see you coming.

“Having said that, I’ve actually made it hard for you to get to the surface without them noticing. Maybe impossible, so we’re going to be obvious. I put your name on the manifest of one of the hunters in the blockade. According to his records, he picked you up as a target a couple of days ago. We’re going to stage your escape from him down to the surface. You’ll steal his transport and dodge the blockade to get planetside. I hope you’re a good pilot, ‘cause my hunters will probably fry your ass if you’re not.”

Stone shot him a sour look.

Conley met his gaze blandly. “More coffee?” Without waiting for a response, the older man took his cup and refilled it.

“What’s to stop them from being suspicious about me coming from a hunter ship?”

“I’m counting on it. They’ll take you right into their fortress and straight to Maulkin, their leader. Saves you the trouble of trying to sneak in. Then it’s up to you to convince them you’re just some poor jerk with the good fortune to escape.”

Stone drank his coffee in silence for a minute, mulling this over. The director was quiet, watching him.

“Maybe offering them info on you hunters would get me on their good side. I’m gonna need to be awful friendly with ‘em for them to let me run around looking for Mea and the kid.”

“What kind of info?”

“I don’t know, something important. Like maybe codes.”

“Did you ever get any codes aboard the
Starfire?”

“No.”

“An escapee from a hunter ship wouldn’t have any either. Maulkin won’t buy it. He’s smarter than most slavers and ambitious besides. That makes him dangerous. No, they won’t buy any juicy info from you. What they would buy is greed. The real Stone was a merc smuggler—act like one.” A sudden grin lightened his eyes. “Offer to take the
Starfire
off his hands for a reasonable price. They’re gonna have to junk her without Mea’s codes to fly her, anyway.”

“What makes you think they don’t have the codes?”

Conley’s smile faded, expression almost gentle when he answered, “Mea is the only one who knows them. And torturing Mea is not the way to get her to tell you anything. She wouldn’t give them up unless they threatened Regan, but I don’t think they’re to that point yet. My hunters and I are a bigger concern to them right now than one lousy ship.”