Weird Space 2: Satan's Reach (12 page)

“Well?” he asked impatiently a couple of minutes later.

The med-pod was another minute before replying. “Chronic liver and kidney dysfunction, probable cause as yet unknown.”

“Prognosis?”

Seconds elapsed and Harper wanted to scream at the machine to answer him. At last it said, “The patient requires treatment that is beyond present attainment. Suggest transfer to a Grade A medical facility.”

He stood up and strode back and forth across the small room. “Okay, okay...” He stopped and stared through the viewplate at the tiny woman within. “How long before she needs the transfer?”

A silence, then: “Approximately twenty-four hours.”

“Very well. Do all you can in the interim. Keep her stable. I’ll get us to the nearest Grade A facility.”

He sprinted from the sick-bay and along the corridor. He slipped into the sling and asked
Judi
about the medical facilities on Tarrasay.

“Negative. Grade C. I do not advise...”

“What do you suggest, then?”

Judi
’s soothing contralto said, “We are equidistant between two requisite facilities, at Cannon’s World and Amethyst Station.”

“Which is the closest? Amethyst, right?”

“Affirmative.”

“Great. Head there, full speed. No holding back, okay?”

“Understood.”

He braced himself, then asked, “And estimated time of arrival?”

The reply came. “Between twenty and twenty-four hours.”

“Okay,” he said, and tried to persuade himself that they would make it in time.

Amethyst Station... a vast star station eighteen light years from Tarrasay. He knew people there; in fact, an engineer who specialised in starship drives owed him a favour or two.

Of course, once there he would have to foot Zeela’s medical bill, and Grade A medical facilities never came cheaply.

He was about to leave the flight-deck and return to the sick-bay when
Judi
said, “Den.”

His heart lurched. “Go on.”

“We are being followed,”
Judi
said.

“But how the hell...?” There was just no way that Janaker and her hideous sidekick might have tracked him all the way to Port Morris and followed him into space at such short order.

Judi went on, “An Ajantan ship is trailing us at approximately two hundred thousand kilometres, Den.”

He swore. “Very well. Take whatever evasive manoeuvres you can without compromising on speed. It’s a priority that we reach Amethyst as soon as possible.” He thought about it, then asked, “I wonder why the frogs didn’t try to apprehend us on Tarrasay?”

“My guess is that they were wary of the authorities. There is a history of discord between the two planets.”

“Well, thank the fates for small mercies,” he said. “I wonder if they’re more likely to try to take us on Amethyst Station?”

“That is improbable, given the fortress nature of the star station.”

“Excellent.”

He left the flight-deck and made his way to the sick-bay. Looking ahead, beyond Zeela’s recovery... The Ajantans would be waiting for them once they left Amethyst Station. In which case, if he failed to shake the Ajantans in the void, then the only option would be to land somewhere and hope to ambush the frogs.

Unless...

There was another option, which he would be able to set in motion once he’d reached the star station.

He sat before the med-pod and stared through the hatch at Zeela, willing her to hold on.

CHAPTER FIVE

J
ANAKER SAT IN
the bar of the DeVries spaceport, nursing her fourth beer and cursing her luck.

They had been
this
far from the bastard, sitting at the next table to their target, and had let him slip through their fingers. She’d looked up from her drink, seen the tall, dark human glance at her, and it had been a couple of seconds before recognition kicked in. Too many beers, she thought, and the fact that the last place she’d expect Den Harper to turn up would be on the balcony of the tea room. She’d forgotten the very first rule of being a bounty hunter: be prepared for every eventuality. She’d been lax, and Harper had taken advantage of that to get away.

She had been impressed with Helsh Kreller’s reactions, however. He had bragged, back on Hennessy, that he processed reality faster than humans did – and on the evidence of the ensuing chase that was true. Only the intervening crowds that thronged the streets of this old world had slowed his progress.

The Vetch had insisted that they try the spaceport again, though Janaker saw little reason in wasting their time. On landing on Tarrasay they had checked the port for any ship corresponding to the one Harper had stolen, and came up with nothing. Nevertheless, Kreller said that he would check for recent departures.

While Kreller did the foot-work, Janaker drowned her sorrows at the bar and thought through the abortive encounter with the errant telepath.

She was on her fifth beer when Kreller’s dark shadow loomed over her. She looked up at the alien’s macerated visage. “Don’t tell me,” she said, “you drew a blank?”

Kreller sat down. “The only ship that phased out in the last couple of hours was a tanker bound for Cryos.”

“I could have told you we wouldn’t find he’d phased out from here, only you were too impatient and rushed off.”

Bloodshot eyes regarded her, inscrutable. “How so?”

“Think about it. We’re not in the Expansion now, nor are we in Vetch space.”

The Vetch looked around the cramped room, at the humans garbed in what looked like ancient costume. Janaker had no idea what a Vetchian expression of disgust might look like, but she guessed that he was feeling disgust now. “That,” he said, “is self-evident. Your point?”

“My point is that the rules that work in the Expansion and in your system don’t necessarily apply here. Back home, you land your ship in a designated, government-run spaceport – and woe betide if you come down anywhere else, unless you have a damned good reason. Here...” She waved a hand. “Here, you can land anywhere and the authorities – such as they are – don’t turn a hair. The only reason there are a few dozen ships at this port is that DeVries is a mercantile centre so it’s convenient for them to land here.”

“So you’re saying that Harper might have come down anywhere on the planet?”

“And might very well be still here. Then again, if he has any sense he might have high-tailed it back to his ship and phased out.”

He regarded her. “So... what now?”

She lifted her drink. “I’ve been thinking, helped by this stuff, while you’ve been running around like a headless chicken.”

“A... what?” he snapped.

She said, “A term of approbation. I mean ‘while you’ve been running around doing all the hard work’... Anyway, it struck me that it wasn’t mere coincidence that Harper was at the tea room.”

“It wasn’t?”

“Of course not. What were the chances that in all DeVries he’d just happen to choose that café for refreshment? He was there for a reason – because he knew we’d be nearby, knew that the ‘solicitor’s representatives’ had left word to contact them at the Old Rose hotel.”

“Ah... so he’d spoken to the Endolon?”

“And decided, being a cautious individual, to stake out the Old Rose before committing himself to meeting us.” She hoisted her glass. “So let’s go back and have a little word with the overweight alien, shall we?”

They left the spaceport and took a rickshaw to the centre of DeVries, the Vetch muttering his dissatisfaction at this crude form of transport while Janaker looked around her in appalled wonder. The Reach... an anarchic melting pot where the ancient rubbed up against the modern, where all fashions prevailed at once and personal idiosyncrasies were seen as the norm. After the staid, regimented culture of the Expansion – where all exhibitions of individuality were looked upon as suspect, and the authorities clamped down on anything that hinted at radicalism – the melange that was DeVries struck her as chaotic and unsettling.

They arrived at Phreak Street – its very spelling destabilising her notion of the order of things – paid off the rickshaw driver and pushed through the crowds to the Endolon inn.

The Endolon was ensconced upon its throne, grey and adipose and revolting.

“Ah,” said the creature as she and Kreller drew up stools and sat down, “the solicitor’s representatives. I have just had word, through a third party, that Den Harper has had to leave the planet on urgent business. He is heading, as we speak, towards the rim and a planet known as Beckett’s World.”

Janaker smiled and glanced at the Vetch. He reached into his jacket, and at first she thought he was about to produce a weapon.

However, he merely leaned forward from the waist, his eyes closed as if concentrating, and said to the Endolon, “He was with a girl?”

“That’s right, a tiny companion from...”

“From Kallasta,” Kreller finished, his eyes still shut.

Janaker looked from the bloated folds of the Endolon’s head to the meaty strips that hung from Kreller’s face, wondering how the Vetch had come upon this information.

Kreller opened his eyes and stared at the Endolon. “This so called third party,” he said, “did not exist.”

The Endolon waved its four arms, giving the impression of being flustered. “I beg your pardon?”

“There was no third party,” Kreller went on, surprising Janaker. “The girl returned here, less than one hour ago, and told you to inform us, should we return, that she and Harper were heading towards Beckett’s World.”

“But, my friend, I assure you...” the Endolon began.

The Vetch reached out a massive hand and clamped one of the Endolon’s tiny arms. The alien’s long mouth expanded in pain. “Unhand me! This behaviour is most uncivilised!”

“You are lying!” The Vetch leaned forward, speaking softly so as not to arouse comment from the other drinkers. “Now, tell me... where is Harper really heading?”

“I... I swear... I swear the girl did not say!”

Again the Vetch closed his eyes and leaned forward. He was silent for perhaps ten seconds, and Janaker thought she understood the reason for his actions.

So
that
was why the Vetch was accompanying her...

She slipped a hand into the pocket of her jacket and clutched her shield, more than a little pleased that Commander Gorley had insisted she keep it about her person at all times.

Kreller opened his eyes and flung back his head in a gesture she had come to recognise as the equivalent of a human nod. “You speak the truth, this time.”

He released the Endolon’s hand, and the creature gasped with relief and rubbed the outraged limb with its remaining three hands.

The Vetch turned to her. “Come, I’ve learned all I can here.”

They rose and strode from the bar, and behind them Janaker heard the Endolon call out, “A flagon! A flagon, I say! And food, food!”

They emerged into bright sunlight and Kreller hailed a passing rickshaw. As the flimsy vehicle dodged through the teeming pedestrians, Janaker turned to the Vetch and said, “Commander Gorley forgot to mention that you are a telepath, Kreller.”

The Vetch stared ahead. “Perhaps he considered it would be enough of a shock to your prejudices that he was teaming you up with a Vetch.”

She bit back a rebuttal and said instead, “So what else did you learn from the mind of the Endolon?”

“Very little of consequence. Except, as of three months ago, Harper still had the same ship he stole from the Expansion five years ago. So, if he had the ship that long, then the chances are that he has it still.”

Janaker nodded. “That’s a fair assumption.”

“I scoured the Endolon’s mind, but it didn’t know where Harper and the girl might be heading.” He turned to her. “I do, however, have a suspicion.”

“Go on.”

“Harper told the Endolon that he’d saved the girl – Zeela, her name, by the way – from aliens on the world of Ajanta, from which they were fleeing, pursued by the Ajantans.”

“Ah, so you think...?”

The Vetch flung back its head. “Yes. It would be logical, would it not, for Harper to take the girl back to the world from which she hailed – Kallasta?”

She nodded. “It’s a... workable assumption, until we have more to go on. What now?”

“We phase out, attempt to lock on to Harper’s ion trail, and follow.”

She smiled to herself. “You’re nothing if not an optimist, Kreller. And if we fail to trace his trail?”

“Then we scan the charts and plot a route to Kallasta.”

She was silent for a time. “I take it that Harper and the girl are shielded?”

He glanced at her. “Harper certainly so. His standard issue ferronnière will have an integral shield. As for the girl...”

She stared at the alien. “But at the tea room...?” she began.

The Vetch looked away. “My amplification device was not activated.”

She laughed derisively. “What?”

He turned his bloody gaze on her and said, “For the sake of my sanity I cannot have the device active at all times. The mind-noise would be intolerable. I had no reason to suspect that Harper or his companion might just happen to be dining at the next table...”

She shook her head, but forestalled her criticism. “Well, just be a little more circumspect in future, hm?”

The Vetch didn’t deign to reply.

They came to the port, passed through rudimentary customs – laughably lax after the rigorous security checks of the Expansion – and boarded her ship minutes later. Fifteen minutes after that they gained clearance from the port controller and phased into the void.

Janaker instructed her smartcore to analyse all the ion trails from the ships that had departed Tarrasay from places
other
than the port in the past hour, then stared at the schematic that the ’core transferred to the screen. The image resembled a ball of wool with loose strands shooting off in all directions.

Kreller sat in the co-pilot’s couch, watching her as she commanded the ’core to remove all the trails that issued from ships larger, and smaller, than Harper’s. She looked up at the screen, and the ball of wool that was Tarrasay didn’t look quite so chaotic now.

“Three trails moved from Tarrasay’s orbit in the past sixty-seven minutes,” she said. “Observe, one is heading into the core. The other two away from it, in the general direction of the rim and Kallasta.”