Zero (24 page)

Webb was knelt on the linoleum, head bowed and eyes tight shut, clutching something at his throat. Doll stood over him, one hand on his head, the other hand raised in the air. She was mumbling soft words over him with her eyes closed. Hugo felt like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over his head but was unable to look away. When Webb finally rose, wiping his eyes, the spell was broken and Hugo padded away, used the bathroom and crept back up the stairs.

He heard Webb return to his blankets sometime later and listened as his breathing levelled out but couldn't be sure if the commander ever actually fell asleep. Hugo felt the thoughts chew themselves out inside his head, staring at the dark wall, tasting guilt on his tongue.

ɵ

He woke with a start. He had managed to fall back asleep but this time it had not been dreamless. He stared at the wall until he only saw the brickwork and not flames and smoke. Rubbing his eyes, he sat up, groaning as every muscle protested and the back of his head throbbed. The shutter had been opened and dust danced in the weak light. The room was empty. The chrono on the wall display confirmed it as a little after six in the morning.

Once he had stood up he became aware of returning hunger and of voices and a low buzzing noise coming from the stairwell. He picked up the filthy remains of his t-shirt, scowled as he pulled it on and then reached for his d
usty trousers then went downstairs in bare feet. It wasn't until he got to the bottom that the image of Doll praying over Webb from the previous night rose again in his mind. He paused in the corridor to school his face then moved on through to the kitchen.

“
Morning, Captain,” Webb said. “Have some of this coffee. Don't know where Doll gets it from but it's dynamite.”

“
It's sometimes good to have connections,” Doll said.

Hugo blinked. Harvey was sat on one of the kitchen stools, head bowed as Doll ran a pair of clippers over her head. Hugo felt something shift inside him as the last of Harvey's yellow curls fell to the floor. She looked up, shook her head and ran her hands over the shaved locks, brushing away the last stray strands. Hugo felt his breath catch when she looked up and smiled, the missing hair making her face look rounder, younger, her eyes standing out as a more brilliant green than before. Her smile faltered and Hugo realised he was staring and looked away, feeling his cheeks flush.

Webb was grinning at him, still holding out the coffee. “Suits her, huh, Hugo?”

Hugo took the mug, glowering.

“Should save you from everything but a close look,” Doll said, brushing hair form Harvey's shoulders. “I have an old welding tunic I don't fit into any more. You wear that too, you're just another solder-monkey.”

“
Thanks, Doll,” Harvey said, running her hand over her head. “You got a scarf too?”

She nodded.
“Somewhere. Hold on.”

Harvey got to her feet and dusted herself off.
“Right, I'm ready.”

Hugo swallowed his mouthful of coffee.
“Ready for what?”

“
We need supplies,” Harvey said. “Unless you're planning on glowering the Splinters into submission?”

“
You're not going on your own, Harvey,” Hugo said.

Harvey frowned, hands on hips.
“I'm more likely to be recognised if I get spotted with either of you two trigger-happy morons. Unless you want me to take the clippers to that lot, Webb?”

“
Hands off,” Webb growled as he poured another coffee.

“
Kaleb?” Harvey said with a half-grin, waving the clippers. Hugo ran a hand through his hair. He'd never worn it so long.

“
Not so fast,” Webb warned. “He still walks too much like a soldier. You give him a trooper haircut he'll stick out a mile.”

Harvey put the clippers down and Hugo swore she actually pouted.
“Pity. I think it would look good.”

“
It did,” Webb said, smiling around his coffee mug.

Hugo frowned at the pair of them as Doll returned.

“Here you go.” She handed Harvey a dust-scarf and grey welding tunic. Harvey zipped the tunic on over her flight suit, turning up the collar and wrapped the scarf around her face.

“
That'll do,” she said. “Don’t wait up.”

“
Stay on the comm,” Webb shouted after as she left.

“
I've got to go too,” Doll said, zipping up her own tunic and grabbing a pair of goggles off the side. “Spare keycards are in the lockbox. And get some food in you, the pair of you.”

Webb watched her leave and as soon as there was the sound of the door closing above, he drained his coffee.

“Right, come on Hugo.”

“
Come on where?” Hugo said, downing his own.

“
You wanted to get started right away.”

“
Shouldn't we wait for weapons?”

“
Here,” Webb pulled a gun out of his waistband and handed it over. “Now come on.”

ɵ

Webb seemed to be moving better today. He was barely limping and his back was straight, his movements more fluid. He didn't take them back through the maintenance decks but through a maze of alleys and out onto a main groundway to a shuttle stop.

“
Keep your head down, Hugo,” he muttered, though Hugo didn't need to be told again. He took a handhold and didn't make eye contact with any of the people crowded into the shuttle. He made out lots more welding tunics and some med tunics, boiler suits and lots and lots of cargo boots. The view out the window as the shuttle climbed above building-level showed mile after mile of factories, warehouses and meltworks with only the occasional and ill-maintained spacescraper breaking up the metal-and-concrete landscape. The shuttle stopped at each of the megastructures and people shuffled on and off in near-silence.

“
Where are we going?” Hugo murmured.

“
Sector 2,” Webb replied. “Spinn said the Splinters had some other buildings around there. And there's a bar owned by someone who has fenced for them before. We may be able to catch some news of Armin.”

“
Why does everything we do start in a bar?” Hugo grumbled.

Webb raised his eyes to Hugo's long enough to smirk.
“Welcome to the underworld, Captain.”

“
Do you not have any trustworthy points that could give us some solid information?”

“
Most points I wouldn't trust enough to dare start poking for leads on the Splinters,” Webb said. “And those I would trust, well, they're too valuable to get caught up in this mess.”

“
So what in the hell use are any of them?”

Webb frowned.
“Ask me that when we're not attempting to bring down a terrorist ring that has designs on their whole fucking colony, Hugo.”

Hugo shut his mouth but ground his teeth, frustration and just a little fear mounting in his insides as the shuttle lumbered on. Webb finally had them get off at a ground-level stop on another busy groundway. The walkway was teeming with workers, a lot of them pushing or pulling lifters. Most of the vehicles that moved along the groundway had cargo of some kind.

“Trading sector,” Webb mumbled as they moved down a narrower street into the shadows of some taller buildings. There was less foot-traffic on these streets but several of the buildings had openings in the walls at every level with lifters and forklifts being used to load and unload boxes and crates of cargo. Webb wove amongst the machinery and people in overalls with panels shouting orders. Hugo kept to his heels. No one gave them a second glance.

“
There,” Webb said at last.

On the other side of the street was a three-story building with a sheet-iron roof and dark windows. There was no sign but the door stood open and Hugo watched as people in overalls came and went through the entrance.

“Okay, Hugo. Head down. Here we go.”

Webb crossed the street and walked in through the door, Hugo close behind. He peered into the gloom, making out benches and tables and booths along one wall, some gaming equipment in the corner and an unmanned bar with cracked panels
laid in its top. Despite the hour there were already clusters of people at the tables with bottles of drink and bowls of food, some of whom looked like they might still be there from the night before. Only the people closest to the door looked up as they came in and their glances slid away, uninterested. He scanned the faces he could see and didn't know whether to be frustrated or relieved when he didn't recognise any Splinters amongst them.

Hugo started to move toward the booth in the furthest corner with the thickest shadows when Webb took a hold of his elbow and steered him to one closer to the bar.

“You take that booth it looks like you're trying to hide,” Webb murmured as he gestured for Hugo to take a seat. “Stay here.”

Hugo tried to look around without making it obvious whilst Webb went to the bar and tapped into one of the panels. He saw his commander crane his neck and glance around as two bottles of beer rose out of a sliding section of the bar. He returned with the bottles, shaking his head.

“No one here I recognise,” he said, still scanning the crowd. “But that's doesn't necessarily mean anything.”

“
Who's the owner you mentioned?”

“
Name's Callum Hannah,” Webb said. “He's more of a rat than a proper fence. Buys and sells info but that's about it. Small potatoes really. But he's not above doing deals with the likes of the Splinters -”

“
Shit...” Hugo said, fingers tightening around his beer bottle.

“
What?” Webb said, following Hugo's gaze to a door behind the bar through which three figures had just emerged.

“
It's Armin,” Hugo said, shifting round so his back was to them.

“
You sure?”

Hugo nodded.

“Keep looking at me,” Webb hissed, though his own eyes were watching over Hugo's shoulder. “Don't turn round. Drink.”

Hugo took a swig of the sour beer, trying not to grimace as it roiled in his empty stomach.

“He's with Hannah,” Webb mumbled, beer in front of his face. “I can't decide if this if good luck or really, really bad luck. Shit. Keep still, they're looking this way.”

Hugo turned his face to the wall, leaning back in his seat in what he hoped was a casual way and took another mouthful of beer. Webb did the same, idly mapping out patterns on the scarred table top with his fingers and gazing into the middle distance. Then his fingers paused and he glanced back toward the front door.

“They've gone.”

Hugo let out a breath and put the beer down.
“That was too close.”

“
No shit. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.”

“
Follow him.”

Webb put his own beer down with a clank.
“What?”

“
It might take us days to track him down again and we need more information about him. I can't come, he'll recognise me.”

Webb rubbed his mouth, glancing from Hugo to the door and back again. Then he nodded and fished a set of keycards from his pocket
“You remember the way back to Doll's?” Hugo nodded, taking the cards. “Get yourself there and lock yourself in.”

“
Have you got a comm?” Hugo asked as Webb rose.

“
I do, but you don't so it's not much use.”

Hugo grunted, rubbing his bandaged wrist where his wrist panel usually was.

“Don't sweat it, Hugo. I'll be back. Harvey'll be back at Doll's soon and she's got a comm.”

After a nod from Hugo, Webb strolled across the dingy room and out the front door and was gone. The prickle of guilt was back but he swamped it with resolve and another mouthful of beer, counted to a hundred then left.

ɵ

For a while after getting back to Doll’s, all Hugo could do was sprawl on the bench and glare at the wall. He went over the warehouse mission again and again, attempting to pick apart any details that might be useful for formulating a plan, but his head was throbbing again and all he could remember in any detail was the hollow face of Armin with his drilled-out eyes.

With a growl of frustration he pulled himself up off the bench and booted up the workstation. It turned on quickly despite its battered appearance, and was connected to the Lunar 1 mainframe and the solarnet. Hugo felt his spirits lift a little and started searching through everything he could find recorded on the Splinters. He searched the local records and news reports, the public property listings and even some of the gossip and rumour boards that weren't coded, but tracked down next to nothing.

Grunting in frustration, he logged onto the solarnet and searched Orbit-wide news networks and records but still came up
with little besides historical reports and a little Analyst data that classified them as inactive. He leant back in his chair, rubbing his face, wishing he could put Rami and Spinn on the case. He closed down all his dead-end searches and then after the slightest hesitation typed
Donatella McCullough
into a new one. He swallowed, clicked
search
and began to read.