Outriders (39 page)

Mike stopped and looked at him. “What’s so funny about that?”

“No, nothing,” Lincoln said shaking his head. “It’s uh… I just realized how you got your nickname.”

“What? One-time?”

Lincoln nodded.

“Yeah, it’s because I’m a sniper,” Mike said, deadpan. Lincoln couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, so he just waited, without responding.

“You know,” Mike continued. “A sniper. So I only have to shoot the guy one time.”

Lincoln glanced over at Wright, who was covering her mouth with one hand and looking intently at her cards, trying not to laugh. Mike looked at her, then back at Lincoln.

“What?” Mike said. “That’s what it’s for.”

“OK, buddy,” Lincoln said. “Sorry. Please continue.”

“Nah, forget it,” Mike said, and he flopped his cards down with a trace of bitterness. “Ten high flush.”

Lincoln looked at his own hand of cards. He had the same flush, with a king high.

“Beats me,” Lincoln lied, and he threw his cards into the pile face down. Mild penance for hurting Mike’s feelings.

“Hey Link,” Thumper said from the door of the compartment. They all looked at her, leaning her head through the doorway. “I think I found something. I don’t know if it’s anything, really. But it’s not nothing.”

“Yeah? Whatcha got?” Lincoln asked.

“Come see what you think,” she answered, jerking her head back towards the compartment across the passageway. Lincoln got up and followed her over.

“OK, what’re we looking at?” he said, steeling himself for another one of Thumper’s enthusiastic lessons.

“I didn’t really pay much attention to it before because it looks like a glitch. I thought it was bad data. Remember what I said about the relay access? Using the same one?”

“Yeah,” Lincoln said.

“Well, this here, this thin line, it wasn’t open for all that long, but it sent a bunch of traffic. It looks like nav data, except it’s all one way. That’s why I thought it was a glitch, because it’s an almost constant stream of open-close. I can tell that just from the pattern of the access, and I can’t see what’s going on in the relay exactly
but
nav data requests all go through the ICC to start with–”

“You know what, Thump,” Lincoln said, holding up a hand. “I don’t need to know how you got it. I trust you. Just tell me what it means.”

“Oh,” she said. She seemed a little disappointed. “Well. OK. This is a request for access to Veryn-Hakakuri’s plot data. The reason why it’s only one-way is because it fails the security check every time. The login ID belongs to a VH employee named Maria Reyes. UAF citizen. Lincoln, according to her last personnel assignment, she was stationed on YN-773. She was on LOCKSTEP. So either someone’s trying to use her creds and being really stupid about it…”

“Or,” Lincoln said, completing the thought, “that’s a cry for help.”

“Access request is on this relay here. And see, this is where it was when we started tracking it, and here’s where it is now. It’s moving.”

“It’s on a ship.”

Thumper nodded. “Headed towards Mars.”

Lincoln looked at the thin-skin, weighed the new information. Thumper was right. It wasn’t much, but it wasn’t nothing, either.

“All right,” he said. “Let’s pull the team together.”

Lincoln brought the others in, gave them a quick briefing on what Thumper had found and his thoughts on it.

“So maybe we have one girl,” Wright said. “Stranded on a ship somewhere. Not sure how that helps us.”

And here Lincoln was again with a high-stakes decision to make, and barely any information to go on. This was probably the last chance they’d get to run an op before they were recalled. If they chased the ship down and it turned out to be nothing, that’d be the end of it. If they stayed around, kept poking at it, maybe a stronger lead would turn up. And maybe not.

It was a thin thread at best. But Lincoln couldn’t shake the feeling that that fragile strand was the only lifeline that girl had left.

“No guarantee this is going to be the break we’re looking for,” Lincoln said. “But we know for a fact that relay’s connected to the bad guys. And we know there’s a UAF citizen on board that ship.”

“Or
was
,” Wright said.

“If she’s alive, I’m guessing we’re the only chance she’s got of getting home,” Lincoln said. “If not… least we can do is grab hold of the line she threw us and make the most out of wherever it leads.”

Lincoln looked at each of his teammates in turn, gauging their reactions.

“Well,” Sahil said. “Why are we standin’ around just talkin’ about it then?”

Lincoln looked at Wright. She held his gaze for a moment, then dipped her head.

“OK,” Lincoln said. “Let’s go get her.”

TWENTY-TWO

“
T
HAT’S AFFIRMATIVE
,
Relentless,
” Vector said. “We’ve received your coordinates and are adjusting course to the new approach corridor as directed now. Sorry for the mix-up.”

“Thank you for your cooperation,
Yoo Ling 4.
Safe travels.”

“And to you.
Yoo Ling 4
out.”

Vector sat back and glanced over at Kev, who gave him a thumbs up.

“We clear?” Vector asked.

“Looks like,” Kev said. “Handshake went through just fine, no flags. Probably oughta give it a few minutes before we pop the champagne open just to be sure, but yeah. I think we did it. How long you wanna wait to kick it off?”

“Not up to me,” Vector said. “I’ll hand it off to the Woman, let her decide. I think it’ll mean a lot to her to push the button herself.”

“It’s not really a button–”

“Metaphorically, man. Talking in metaphors here.”

Kev chuckled and leaned back in his chair.

“You know Doc, we been at this so long, I’m not even sure what I’m gonna do with myself when it’s over.”

“Sleep for a week, probably.”

“Yeah, but after that, I mean.”

“I’m sure we’ll have plenty to do, bud. It’ll be nice to get a little downtime, though. Assuming nobody comes looking for us.”

Kev shook his head. “If they haven’t come looking by now, I don’t think they will.”

“Never hurts to keep your head on a swivel.”

“Not great for the neck,” Kev said. He sniffed, rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. “The Woman, though. She’s a sharp lady. It’s been a rough ride at times, but not nearly as rough as it coulda been.”

“Yeah,” Vector said.

“You, uh,” Kev said. “You thinkin’ about… you know, after?”

“No.”

Kev nodded and shrugged. “Gotta be tough.”

“Ping
Relentless
again in ten minutes,” Vector said, standing and changing the subject. “Just to confirm we’re following orders.”

“You got it,” Kev said, taking the hint.

“I’m going to go let
her
know what we’re up to.”

He turned to leave the bridge, but Kev called to him before he left.

“Hey, Doc.”

“Yeah?”

“The girl. What’re we gonna do with her when we leave?”

Vector had been thinking about that since her most recent adventure in freedom. Apparently she hadn’t done any damage after all, but he was still wary of what she
could
do. He didn’t want to just kill her in cold blood. That wasn’t his way. That wasn’t any of his team’s way. But the girl was a risk, no doubt.

“I doubt anyone will find her, and even if they do, by then it won’t matter,” Vector said. He hadn’t realized he’d decided anything about her until he heard it come out of his mouth. “She stays.”

P
IPER HAD GIVEN
up trying to eat halfway through the bowl. Not because she wasn’t hungry; she felt like she’d barely eaten in the past… well, however many days it had been. But they’d cuffed her wrists together and bound them on a short chain to her ankles, so short she couldn’t stand without hunching over. They’d taken almost everything from her compartment; bed, table, chair. The bed had been replaced with a blanket; the toilet, a bucket. They didn’t even trust her with utensils anymore, requiring her to eat with her hands. Given the meal of thin… she wasn’t quite sure what it was. Too thick to drink, but barely enough to consider a food. Something like watery oatmeal or rice. Whatever it was, it had very little flavor, and was next to impossible to scoop with her fingers in anything more than about half a mouthful at a time. She’d taken to holding the bowl tipped towards her mouth, scraping the meal towards her, but the reward wasn’t worth the effort. There was no doubt it was nutrient rich; there was just hardly any flavor. And once she had the thought, Piper couldn’t get the idea out of her head that she was eating wet paper.

Now, the bowl sat at her feet, while she sat curled against the wall. To her surprise, her captors hadn’t been needlessly cruel to her. Certainly they’d done nothing to make her comfortable, but there had been no savage beating, no threats. They’d nursed her to relative health. But apart from the meals and occasional emptying of her bucket, they had left her alone. And that had been the hardest part. The isolation.

The woman hadn’t been back since Piper’s last escape attempt. Kid. That was the name she’d said Piper could call her. Kid had been the kindest of them all, the one that seemed most genuinely to have cared for Piper. And Piper had betrayed her. In her desperation to escape, she hadn’t really thought about the repercussions, the consequences Kid might have to face. Having not seen her since the attempt, Piper couldn’t help but wonder if something had happened to her.

So it was all the more surprising when the door opened and the woman entered, with a cartbot behind her. She made eye contact briefly with Piper, but the look was more utilitarian than anything; making sure Piper wasn’t going to try anything before she committed to entering the compartment fully. When she came in, she posted up by the door, and kept her eyes forward, intently ignoring Piper. A stubby weapon hung on her back. That was the first time Piper had ever seen her armed. Though, now that she thought about it, the men who had been bringing her her meals previously had all been carrying them too. Since her second attempt.

The woman remained by the door while the bot trundled in and took care of emptying the contents of the bucket, sanitized it, replaced it. When the bot was done, it wheeled out into the passageway, whirring quietly as it went. The woman looked over at Piper then, down at the bowl in front of her, back up at Piper again.

“I couldn’t eat any more,” Piper said.

Kid lingered by the door for a few moments, her face impassive. But then something shifted in her expression, and she walked over and picked up the bowl.

“I’m sorry,” Piper said. The woman didn’t respond, didn’t make eye contact. She just took the bowl and started back towards the door.

“I mean, I’m sorry for what I did to you,” Piper continued. And the woman stopped. “I’m sorry for betraying your trust that way.”

Kid stood there in silence for several seconds, long enough that Piper thought maybe she was just waiting to see if Piper had anything else to say. But finally she spoke, without turning.

“I really wish you hadn’t done that,” she said.

“I know,” Piper answered. “It wasn’t right. You’ve been kind to me, kinder than anyone else.”

The woman shook her head.

A man poked his head through the door, someone Piper hadn’t seen before.

“Not too chatty, ladies,” he said, gruffly. The way he said it, Piper couldn’t tell if it was supposed to be directed more at her, or at the woman. He withdrew again, but from the way he’d leaned around the door frame, Piper knew he was standing guard outside. That wasn’t like them at all, at least as far as she knew. Maybe they’d always had a second person out in the passageway whenever someone came into her compartment, but she’d never seen or heard anyone else.

Kid turned back around and returned to Piper, crouched down in front of her.

“I understand,” she said. “I understand why you did what you did. It was a smart play. Well executed.”

“It wasn’t
all
a play,” Piper said, looking into Kid’s eyes, hoping the woman saw her sincerity.

“I’m not angry with you,” Kid replied. “I’m angry
for
you. It’s just…”

She stopped, glanced back at the door, then looked back at Piper and lowered her voice.

“You complicated things, María,” she said. “For us. For yourself.”

Her eyes softened then; melancholy shadowed the anger.

“There’s not much I can do for you now,” Kid said. “But I’ll come back and cut you free at least. Before we leave. I promise I won’t leave you chained up like some animal.”

“Before you leave?” Piper said. “What do you mean? Where are you going?”

Kid stood up and looked down at Piper.

“You’re not going to just leave me on the ship are you?” Piper asked, panic rising. “You’re going to take me with you, right?”

The woman touched the top of Piper’s head with light fingers; a silent blessing, or an unspoken farewell.

“Kid, please!” Piper said. “Please, you can’t just leave me here! Don’t leave me by myself!”

“I won’t leave you chained,” she said. “I promise.”

“Kid!” Piper said. But Kid had turned her back, was on her way out. And dread cascaded cold over Piper, as if she’d been left behind in an open grave. Words flooded her mind, promises, bargains, pleas, but all of them caught in her throat.

Then something hissed in the passageway and the man outside made a funny sound. It was followed by a heavy thump, as if he’d collapsed. Piper froze, and so did Kid. After a moment, Kid moved very slowly to place the bowl she had in one hand on the deck, while her other hand reached with equal care for her weapon.

And then Piper went blind.

Plunged into darkness, disoriented, she lost even the sensation of the deck beneath her, the bulkhead behind her. Floated in nothingness. She called out, kicked her feet, flailed as much as her bonds would allow, bumped off something hard and cold from an unexpected angle.

A strange, soft sound,
pat pat pat.
Kid shouted something; she sounded farther away, her words cut short.