Tracker (45 page)

Then the view jolted repeatedly and turned right again, in a flare that momentarily washed out the image, then reestablished it as another station corridor. The camera jolted, suddenly shoved aside by a trio of Guild at a run, someone saying, in Ragi. “This way!”

“Station One,” Geigi said, “Unlock A113 and A112 in 24. Now.
Cenedi!
The doors are unlocked.”

“One hears,” Cenedi's voice came back, jolted by running. Bren became aware that Ilisidi was levering herself to her feet, using her cane. He moved to assist as Cajeiri did.

“Pish!” Ilisidi said, shaking them off. Her attention was for the screen.

Guild in the lead stopped, became a black wall between the camera and a door. The door slid open. A woman cried out in alarm and indignation, an outcry culminating in a series of shrieks. The camera caught up, jolted, showing furniture, a flailing arm.

“Hold her,” someone said, and audio had the sound of crashing furniture. Image became suddenly a second, interior door, and a struggle, two fast moves, and human voices, male, at least two in number, angry screaming.

Screaming became ship-speak words.
“Stop! Stop! Stop!”

And Jase's voice.
“Drop the knife. Drop it! You're under arrest! If you want to be under ship authority and not atevi, drop it now.”

One wouldn't translate the reply to that. Bren stood still, holding his breath.

“You're theirs,”
Jase said, to which there was a stream of profanity, and something hit the wall.

“Two men are in custody, Braddock and one injured,”
Cenedi's voice said.
“Irene-nadi's mother is safe.”

Then a second voice, Nawari's, Bren thought:
“Unit in 112. We have two more in custody, one male, one female.”

“Search both premises for records,”
Cenedi said.
“Addresses and contacts. Take the prisoners to the tunnels.”

“What's he saying?”
an angry voice asked in ship-speak.

“Mr. Braddock,”
Jase answered that,
“he wants the location of those kids. And if you don't answer him, I won't be sympathetic. Where are they?”

A leather-clad arm reached past Jase, grabbed Braddock by the collar, and yanked upward. Braddock flailed, yelled, grabbed at an implacable grip and gained nothing.

“Where are they?”
Jase asked.

“You want them, let me go!”

“Let him breathe,”
Jase said.
“Talk, Braddock!”

“The girl ran! Dammit, you're choking me!”

“That's one,”
Jase said, dead calm.
“Where are the others?”

“We don't have them! We assumed you did!”

“The parents?”

“They're under guard. Safe.”

“In their own premises? Or yours?”

“Theirs.”

Good and bad news. Jase translated, rapidly for Cenedi, which served for the dowager and for everyone in Central. The dowager said, quietly, into the unit she was holding. “We claim custody of them. Bring them.”

Cenedi said quietly.
“Aiji-ma.”
Then:
“Take them to the tunnels and secure them. Wari-ji, if he will walk, let him walk. So with the others. But do not release them for an instant.”

“No!”
came from Irene's mother, several times repeated.
“Let me go! No!”

The whole company began to move. A shriek. Several shrieks. Presumably Irene's mother was moving with the rest, with no choice about it.

Curiously there had not been one question from the woman about her daughter. Not one query.

That was information, too . . . which he hoped not to mention to Irene.

“Nandi,” Geigi said. “We have an inquiry from Ogun-aiji.”

One was not entirely surprised. And Ogun would certainly not improve with waiting.

“Aiji-ma,” Bren said, excusing himself toward the indicated console. He took up the offered headphone, slipped it on.

“Captain? Bren Cameron.”

“I'm suddenly missing a captain, Mr. Cameron, and 24 and 23 are in the middle of an incident. Doors are locked with people wanting in and wanting out of their premises, and in a fair panic about it, including people we do communicate with off the main system, with a riot starting in the B24 barracks. Would you know anything about that?”

“The aiji-dowager has just extracted Braddock and several persons connected to him, without bloodshed. The operation is continuing. We've taken custody of one of the children Tabini-aiji asked be under special protection, with one of the parents, and we're in the process of locating the others.”

“You didn't rescue that kid. You got him from perimeter security!”

“Her,
sir. Yes, we did.”

A moment's silence.

“Mr. Cameron.”

“Sir.”

“Where
is Captain Graham?”

Damn. Jase had apparently shed his locator. Or Jase was going to claim malfunction.

“A moment ago, within 23, sir, he was extracting Mr. Braddock and his aides. That group's now gone back into the tunnel system to ask Mr. Braddock some questions. Three of the children are missing and presumed to be in danger from Mr. Braddock's people, whether as hostages or attempting to hide from searchers. The aiji-dowager asks your cooperation in this action, Senior Captain. The loss of those children would have a severe effect on atevi relations.”

“Tell the aiji-dowager—”
Ogun began. But he left it there for a long moment.

“Captain Graham has not wished to burden you with what could be a failed effort, sir. I believe that was his reasoning. If it goes wrong, you will be able to say it didn't happen on your watch.”

“That, Mr. Cameron, is unmitigated crap.”

“In point of fact, sir, with the kyo heading toward us, this would not be a time to have ship command tainted with a failed operation and a breach with the aiji-dowager.”

“I told you I don't take threats.”

“I assure you the aiji-dowager doesn't issue them. We will not be
in
that situation, sir, since we intend to find the children and extract them and their parents to safe-keeping. We hope to have those locks reset within half an hour. A public announcement from ship-com that the lock reset process is now underway will calm the sections.”

“Mr. Cameron.”
There was another lengthy pause.

“Captain. We protect our allies. This is
why
we will protect you.”

“Your
planet-bound
authority is making decisions with people the history of whom you damned well don't know, Mr. Cameron.”

“An authority that's spent two hundred years learning how to communicate with foreigners. With each other, sir. There have been tense moments, and there have been quarrels. There have been moments when we've each pursued our extreme self-interest, but if we forgive each other our necessities, sir, we do get along. I'm asking that. I
am
asking that wisdom of ship command right
now,
sir.”

Lengthy, lengthy pause. On the hanging screen, Banichi's search was proceeding. A young girl's voice continued to call,
“Gene? Artur? Bjorn? Can you hear me?”

“Mr. Cameron, I'm going to go have my breakfast. When I finish my breakfast, I'd like to hear that the door locks on a major slice of this station are well on their way to a fix, that the riot in 24 is under control, and that Captain Graham has finished his foray into an area that is due to become a purely Mospheiran concern when the shuttle docks. I want the principal troublemakers isolated and I want those three locked sections to
stay locked
until I get the last of the problems off this station on a priority basis. Will you convey that request to Ms. Kroger when she arrives?”

“Thank you, sir. I will do exactly that, and I'll recommend your advice.”

“Don't mess this up, Mr. Cameron. You stirred this up. You fix it. And don't push your luck!”

The contact clicked out.

“Is Jase-aiji in danger?” Geigi asked.

“One has offered Ogun-aiji the certainty he can collect credit if Jase-aiji succeeds,” Bren said. “He understands he can shed the ship's responsibility for the children, succeed or fail, and he has been able to express his displeasure to me without involving Sabin. He is probably not entirely unhappy, at the moment. But I need the public address. I need to tell these people that the malfunction is in process of being fixed.”

“Indeed,” Geigi said. “We can enable that. If you will make the statement, we will broadcast it, Bren-ji. Come.”

God. What to say. How much to say. The operation was ongoing, and they hadn't gotten all of Braddock's people, hadn't gotten the parents out—the less information Braddock's people got, the better.

Things broke. It was a lot to say something had broken that locked up an entire section of the station, with all its fail-safes, but it was the best story he had.

He took up the mike. He said, “Citizens. This is Bren Cameron, speaking from atevi Central, which is at the moment in process of fixing a local computer problem that has affected the door locks. Please be patient. Technicians look to have this problem solved very shortly, and we apologize for the inconvenience. We retain the ability to open all doors, but in the interests of your personal security and privacy, we prefer to restore keycard function. Some changes are in progress, and you may look forward to having Mospheiran Central back in full function tomorrow, with the arrival of a new stationmaster, who will be working closely with the atevi stationmaster and the Captains' Council. We are in contact with the approaching kyo ship and believe that we can manage a peaceful exchange with them. Their visit is not unexpected, and we expect it will be a confirmation of the understandings we have already reached with them. Please be assured, your safety and your future are not a matter of negotiation. The President of Mospheira considers you his citizens, along with those born to the planet. There will be more news once the new stationmaster has arrived. Meanwhile please be patient. Whether you are locked out, or locked in, please allow us about an hour, perhaps less, and be patient. There is no general malfunction. It is limited to certain locks. Thank you.”

No promises. No wider statements. He returned the headset and drew a deep breath. He
hated
having to speak cold. Especially to people who'd been damned well put upon and hammered down and pushed to the limit for the last decade and more.

No one in the room with him knew what he had said, or what he had promised those people.

Well, perhaps one had understood a lot of it.
Cajeiri
was at the dowager's side.

And Geigi himself understood a lot more than he ever admitted.

“Bjorn? Artur? Gene?”
he heard from the speaker, a shade more desperate than before.

Then:
“Bjorn!”
he heard Irene say, and he looked up at the screen overhead.
“Bjorn, it's me!”

He turned, looked up at the image on the screen—a place undistinguished from the rest of the tunnel they'd been searching—girders, machinery, ducts, and a narrow walkway. The camera wasn't picking up what Irene had seen—then did, as a lumpish shadow lumbered toward them.

He heard something. If there had been an answer to Irene's call, the mike didn't pick up.

“It's all right!”
Irene called out. Someone knocked into pipe, raising echoes.
“It's me! It's nand' Bren's people with me! It's all right! Keep coming!”

Cajeiri arrived at Bren's side, for the closest possible view. “Can they hear me, nandi? Can I talk to them? Can they see me?”

“They cannot hear or see you, young aiji, but they will be coming here.” There were two cold-suited figures in the light now, a tall boy and a shorter, younger one, whose freckled face suddenly showed clear as the light swung over them. The boys flinched, and shielded their eyes and the light traveled past.

“Artur!” Cajeiri exclaimed. “Is Gene with them?”

“Nadiin,”
Banichi's deep voice said, within the pickup,
“you are safe. Is Gene-nadi with you?”

“Gene. Not here,”
Artur said in Ragi.
“Not see.”
And in ship-speak.
“He never got here. Bjorn almost didn't make it. We met at the rendezvous, but Gene—Gene didn't get here.”

The two had reached the tunnels before the shutdown—had run
for
them at the closure warning, met and hid together. They'd managed to get cold-suits, at least, likely from one of the emergency shelters, maybe emergency rations and water that wasn't frozen . . .

“Gene would not be caught,” Cajeiri said. “He would be hardest to catch.”

“What would he do, young aiji? If Braddock's men came, what would he do?”

“He would hide. He would take care of his mother and he would hide. Once everybody heard the kyo were coming, he would know we were coming. I
told
everybody we would come.”

If anything went wrong, if there was any trouble, they were to go to Lord Geigi or nand' Jase. That was the pact the kids had made. Irene had gone. Two of the boys had had the tunnels close on them before they could make it out.

Gene
might
have gotten caught before he could get there. The next part of their operation, before they released the locks, was to reach the kids' parents; and that
might
turn up Gene.

Or he could be in the same predicament, but not in the same tunnel system.

There was some sort of tunnel access in Gene's apartment complex. Cajeiri's notes and Irene's had said it was accessible. And if Gene had taken longer than fifteen minutes getting from it to the new tunnel system, if concern for his mother had delayed him, or if Braddock's men had moved faster . . .