The Tracker's Dilemma: (A Mandrake Company Science Fiction Romance) (8 page)

“That why you applied to join Mandrake Company?”

“Yup, heard the captain took assignments to irk the government sometimes. Heard about the finance lords he’d killed.”

Tick knew the captain had only killed one finance lord—the assassin, Sergei Zharkov, had dropped the other—and that it had been to protect Ankari and her business partners rather than out of a desire for revenge. Oh, he’d taken some assignments over the years to help Grenavinians, but he always seemed too practical to get into the revenge business. Tick wasn’t surprised it had ended up costing Hemlock his ship and a friend, or maybe more than a friend. Tick couldn’t fault him for his choices, could even understand them, but wouldn’t have made them himself.

“Just wish he was more interested in targeting those bastards.” Hemlock glowered down at the deck. “I suggested a mining outpost owned by the man who built the weapon that destroyed our planet. He wasn’t interested.”

“Revenge isn’t real profitable, and it gets men killed.”

Hemlock grunted neutrally.

The shuttle wobbled, and Tick gripped the armrests, his gaze lurching toward the view screen. They had flown closer to the planet, the curve of the horizon disappearing. The greenery had disappeared, as well, now hidden beneath a blanket of swirling gray clouds. They had also flown past the terminator between day and night and were looking down at the dark side of the moon.

“Best buckle in,” Jamie said from the pilot’s seat. “Looks like Ms. Keys’ first set of coordinates is going to take us down into a storm.”

Ms. Keys did not appear nervous—she leaned toward the view screen, as if she could pierce the clouds with her eyes and spot their destination—but Lauren groaned.

Tick couldn’t blame her. The first time she had visited the moon, it had been during a storm and at night, with two groups of mercenaries trying to capture her. Mandrake Company had been one of those groups of mercenaries, before the captain had figured out that the women weren’t criminals and that the bounty on their heads had been illegally placed.

“Don’t worry,” Ankari told Lauren. “You can stay in the shuttle while we search.”

“The shuttle won’t be landing a hundred feet up in a tree this time, will it?” Lauren asked.

“That’s not the goal, but the jungle side of this moon
does
have a dearth of desirable landing spots.” Jamie flicked a blonde braid over her shoulder and winked at Ankari, not noticeably alarmed by the notion of a tree-branch landing.

Lauren groaned again. Tick wondered if she might like a big, strong arm wrapped around her for comfort.

More wind battered the shuttlecraft, and he grimaced. He might need a big, strong arm wrapped around
him
right now. Once they reached the ground, he would cheerfully fight mercenaries, pirates, and raptors, so long as his feet were on solid earth. Until then, he would try his best not to imagine them crashing into the treetops.

“Pink Shuttle, this is Alpha Shuttle,” Lieutenant Frog’s voice came over the comm. “I’m going to make us a nice landing spot. Follow us down.”

“What do you mean
make
?” someone else in his shuttle asked.

“You’ll see.” Frog’s grin came through in his voice.

“Do not take undue risks,” a new speaker said—Commander Thatcher from the third shuttle. “We can find a suitable landing place, even in the jungle.”

“Of
course
we can, sir,” Frog said, that grin still hanging on his words.

Lauren walked back to the rear and buckled herself into the seat Striker had vacated earlier, pulling the harness tight enough to cut off circulation. Tick wasn’t surprised, not with Frog’s reputation for blowing things up.

“Don’t like flying?” he asked, nodding toward her fingers, which tightened around the armrests, not unlike his own.

“I don’t care for crashing.”

“It
is
alarming. Especially the way Frog does it. Be glad we’re not flying with him.” Tick smiled at her, trying to be reassuring. He wondered if it meant anything that she had chosen to come back and sit next to him. Maybe just that she was avoiding Striker, who had strapped into the first seat behind Jamie, Ankari, and Ms. Keys, and was pointing at flashes of lightning in the fast-approaching clouds.

“Jamie taught herself to fly by reading technical manuals,” Lauren said.

“That was months and
months
ago,” Jamie said over her shoulder. “I’ve had plenty of lessons with Lieutenant Sequoia since then, and Commander Thatcher has given me all manner of flight equations to solve and memorize.”

“Are equations useful for avoiding trees?” Ankari asked.

“Of
course
.”

A powerful gust of wind battered the shuttle again, and Tick wondered how useful mathematics could be when trying to survive a storm.

Rain pelted the hull, and the visibility grew foggy beyond the view screen. Jamie switched to looking at instrument panels, probably trusting the sensors more than her eyes. She and Ankari did not speak again as the wind railed at the craft.

Another gust nearly tipped them on their side. Lauren clenched Tick’s hand. He blinked, his own fear washed away by the abrupt awareness that she was touching him. Sure, it was a talons-sinking-into-one’s-flesh grip rather than a loving caress, but he couldn’t help but think it might mean something. She could have chosen to sit by Hemlock.

A distant boom sounded outside.

“Was that thunder?” Ankari asked.

“Uhm, I think that was Frog,” Jamie said as a series of booms followed the first.

A flash of light brightened the interior of the shuttle for an instant, the illumination oddly distorted by the fog outside.

“
That
was lightning,” Jamie said. She lowered her voice and added, “We’re close to the treetops.”

“Should we be?” Ankari asked.

“I’m following Frog. It looks like there’s an opening now beside that river. We—”

A scrape-thump sounded as a jolt went through the cabin. Jamie’s fingers flew across the controls as she stabilized them. Lauren’s grip on Tick’s hand tightened to the point of being painful. He didn’t move, though he had the urge to dig out his gum and pop a fresh piece into his mouth. Too bad he didn’t carry a flask around with him; alcohol would have been even more bracing.

“Was that a tree?” Ankari asked.

“It was a boulder. The sensors aren’t reading the terrain below us very well, and I can’t see much. Frog got ahead of us, and we’re in a narrow canyon. I’m heading toward the landing spot he made. I think he’s already down there in the middle of some freshly made stumps and some boulders.”

“Hitting boulders sounds even worse than hitting trees,” Hemlock muttered.

“Maybe you can use your new powers to roll them out of the way,” Tick said, drawing a glance from Lauren.

Hemlock smirked. “Haven’t tried to roll anything that big yet. Maybe later.” His eyes gleamed, as if that idea excited him.

A vision sprang into Tick’s mind. He saw a river ahead, filling in a fresh crater in the bank with smoldering stumps sticking out of it. A patch of mostly flat land lay beside it, and two Mandrake shuttles had already settled down onto the charred earth. Then he saw the area from farther away, as if he were a hawk flying above the canyon.

“Veer right,” Tick said. “There’s a bend ahead before we get to our landing spot.” If that stump field could be called a landing spot.

“Are you sure?” Jamie asked. “The sensors aren’t showing—well, they’re not working real well in the storm.” She peered at the fog and rain outside, relying on her eyes. Static hissed and popped on the screen, muddling the view.

“I’m sure,” Tick said.

Though she shook her head doubtfully, Jamie turned the craft.

It was only with his mind that Tick could see solid rock towering ahead of them, and then to the side as the craft turned. The fog cleared slightly, and Lauren sucked in an alarmed breath as the cliff briefly grew visible on the screen. Jamie let out a low whistle as she finished the turn, then tilted the nose of the shuttle downward. Lightning flashed again, illuminating the landing spot Tick had seen in his mind. Jamie took them toward it, hovering over the water while she tried to pick out a spot.

“Frog left a lot of stumps on our runway,” Ankari said.

“Nobody’s ever accused him of being considerate,” Striker said.

“Not like you, eh?”

“Exactly. I still can’t believe you chose the captain over me.” He wriggled his eyebrows at her.

“Idiot,” Hemlock muttered.

“You’re not supposed to say that about your section sergeant,” Tick said. “It’s not respectful.”

“What if I call him Sergeant Idiot?”

“That might work.”

Jamie found a place to land the shuttle, nestled between stumps. “I hope the river doesn’t rise much with this rain. We might float away.”

“Or sink,” Ankari muttered. “Lauren, aren’t you glad you came along?”

Another vision flashed into Tick’s mind, and he didn’t hear her response. This time, he saw a dark shape flying above the canyon, passing over them briefly before zipping out of sight. Another ship.

“We only brought three shuttles down from the
Albatross
, right?” Tick asked.

Before anyone could answer him, the captain’s voice sounded over the comm. “Cut your engines and lights,” he said. “Thatcher got a glimpse of a larger ship on the sensors. We have company down here.”

Jamie looked at Ms. Keys. “Were you expecting company?”

“No.”

Tick frowned at the back of Keys’ head, glimpsing a man in her thoughts for an instant, a man in a GalCon military uniform.

“She’s lying,” Tick whispered.

Hemlock nodded. “I agree.”

Lauren sighed. “I’m not surprised.”

She looked down at her hand. Her nails weren’t digging into Tick’s flesh now, but she hadn’t removed it, and she seemed surprised to find it clasping his.

“Sorry,” she said and withdrew it.

“I didn’t mind.” Tick smiled.

Lauren frowned slightly and unbuckled her harness instead of returning his smile or meeting his eyes. He hoped that only meant she wasn’t pleased that she had needed someone for comfort, rather than that she found him to be strange and unappealing. The Buddha knew he
felt
strange, these days.

“Check your gear, get something to eat, and be ready,” Mandrake said over the comm. “It should be dawn in an hour, and the weather satellite says the storm will abate about then.”

Ms. Keys jumped to her feet, leaning toward the speaker. “Captain, we should leave immediately. If there’s another ship in the area, they could be trouble. Better to get in and out as soon as possible.”

“What kind of trouble?” Mandrake asked.

“I don’t know, but isn’t it likely they followed us?”

“You tell me.”

“I can’t know for certain, but my research will be of interest to many people, not simply those who helped fund your paycheck.”

Tick could imagine the captain giving the comm station a flinty stare, one intended for Ms. Keys.

“Hailey,” Lauren said, “you should tell them whatever you know. They’ll be able to protect you better that way.”

“I don’t know anything. I only have suspicions.”

Mandrake grunted. “I have suspicions too. We’ll wait until dawn.”

“Captain.” Hailey lifted her chin. “As your employer, I must insist that we don’t delay.”

Ankari and Jamie exchanged looks. Lauren’s lips flattened in disapproval. Tick waited to hear Mandrake’s response. He didn’t tap-dance for anyone, but he also usually did as the employer asked if it wouldn’t compromise the safety of his people. The company had tramped through the dark and the rain numerous times over the year. If the battle demanded it, that’s what they did. Besides, if that other ship they had glimpsed
did
plan to cause trouble, it might be best to do as Ms. Keys suggested, get in and out as quickly as possible.

“Very well,” Mandrake said. “We’ll prepare to leave straight away. You’re coming with us into the storm, Ms. Keys. You’re the one with the map.”

“Gladly.” Clearly not daunted by the rain or dark, or the animal howls that were starting to penetrate the hull of the ship, Ms. Keys jumped to her feet. The sparkle in her eyes promised she was ready to explore.

Lauren strode straight into her lab, ready to stay put.

Tick wished he could remain behind with her but knew the captain had brought him along for his tracking skills. The pilots would remain in the shuttles, and Mandrake would probably leave a few armed men to watch over the women, too, especially if there was another ship in the vicinity.

Tick grabbed his mesh armor, a lighter version of the full-blown combat armor that the mercenaries wore in battle. This was light and flexible and wouldn’t slow them down as they marched through the jungle. Still, as he remembered his vision of that other ship, he wondered if they all should have brought the heavier-duty equipment. He shrugged and dug into his pack. Nothing to be done about it now, and since he didn’t have a helmet, he would trot out the latest cap he’d made, Libran ’coon fur, complete with a spiky ridge down the ringed tail. He’d added enough of a brim to keep the rain off decently.

Striker and Hemlock tramped outside, rifles and pistols—and in Striker’s case, a grenade launcher—in hand. Tick pretended he was still getting ready, strapping his equipment on slowly, and poked his head through the lab curtain.

“Dr. Keys?” he asked, even though he didn’t quite know what to say. She’d shot down his offer of an amorous relationship, after all. He ought to simply leave her be.

She turned to face him, her dark hair up in a bun, as professional as always, but concern lurked in her eyes. The expression turned to bemusement when she took in his cap. “Yes?” was all she said.

“Keep the door locked while we’re gone.” Tick tilted his head toward the hatch, the coon tail brushing his neck with the movement.

“Oh, I planned on it.” A smile ghosted across her lips. “Keep an eye on my sister, will you? She’s impetuous and obsessed about her research. I can’t stand her, but she’s the only family I’ve got, and my mother would have been disappointed in me if I let her die.”