Wings of Retribution (61 page)

Smart sharks, those.  Too smart.  Like weasels, but bigger and with more teeth.  She certainly wouldn’t put it past Juno to have genetically engineered a smarter shark.  Hell, that was probably the first thing she did. 

When she looked back, Taal was gone.

One of them was dead. 

Ragnar had that sick knot of knowing in his stomach, the kind that left him caught between the gut-wrenching need to sob and the overpowering need to vomit.  One of his family was dead.  They were down to two.

He didn’t dare think about which one Juno had taken.  He didn’t dare think about it, because knew if he did, he might start to wonder, to hope…

And the moment he started to hope that one of his kin had survived over the other, Ragnar knew he would be unable to live with himself afterwards.  It was already all his fault.  He refused to disrespect his kindred’s memory with such a taint. 

Maybe they’re just trying to scare me,
Ragnar thought.  Maybe it was all a ruse.  Something to keep him from doing it again.

Yet, remembering that cold voice over the intercom, Ragnar’s gut told him the truth.  For some reason, word hadn’t reached the psychopath and her puppet.  For some reason, they still didn’t know where he was.

Anguished, Ragnar watched the sun go down from the window of his cell.  His captors hadn’t spoken to him since dawn, thus when four of them finally appeared at nightfall, he was hungry enough to eat what they offered him.

This time, however, the pink slab of fish was not drugged.  He ate until he was full, knowing he might need the sustenance in the near future, then set his plate aside as nonchalantly as he could.  No need to make sudden movements.  Put the fools at ease…

“So what do you want with me?” he asked the Merchant, who stood beside two burly men with the weathered look of sailors.  “You’re not handing me over to the Emperor.  What are you going to do?  Sell me?”

The Merchant’s eyes widened.  “Oh, no.  We would never go against the Emperor’s Will.”

“Then what are you doing?” Ragnar asked, holding his gaze.

The Merchant began to wring his hands and glanced at his cook.

The woman gave him a small smile that creased her lined face.  “We’re doing the Emperor a service by bringing more commerce to this blighted planet.”

That seemed to calm the Merchant a bit, and he nodded, smiling.

“So you’re selling me.”  Ragnar continued to hold the Merchant’s eyes.

“No, no, no…”  The Merchant bit his lip and looked away.

“You’re our ticket off this planet,” the woman said.  “We’ll be rid of this totalitarian brainwashing scheme once and for all.  We’ll have a new life on the outside, maybe on one of the colonies, turn all this cultist crap over to the Utopia.  Let Marceau and his Corps sort it out.”

Ragnar eyed her.  “You sound like you’ve been there.”

“I grew up a spacer,” the woman said, scowling.  “Ship’s cook.  We was on a mining expedition out into uncharted territory when we came a little too close to Xenith.  Their fleet surrounded us, forced us to land.  They brainwashed the pilots and sent the rest of us to a penal colony.  Martaj, here, found me selling floaters to criminals and brought me with him.”

Ragnar felt a sinking in his gut.  “This planet is uncharted?”

She nodded.

How was Athenais going to find him on an uncharted planet? 

Desperate, Ragnar said, “Maybe we can help each other.  How are you selling me?  Do you have contacts with the outside?”

“As if we’d tell you any of that, shifter.”  The woman laughed.  “Now let’s go.  Your ship leaves in two hours.”

“You can’t take me off the planet,” Ragnar said.  “You heard the intercom.  They’re killing my people.”

The woman spat.  “I don’t give a damn about your people.  I was due for my Potion thirty years ago.”  She grabbed a lock of gray hair and held it out disgustedly.  “I’ve served these child emperors and their fake goddess for fifty years.  I’m going home to my family.”

“But innocent people are going to die…”

The woman bared her teeth.  “I’m getting off this planet.  Your friends can go to hell.”  Then she turned and left, the Merchant close on her heels.

The two sailors got behind Ragnar and escorted him from the room.  They passed through a tunnel that spiraled downward, the crashing of waves increasing as they descended.

Ragnar could hear the ocean before he could see it.  The booming crashes became less muffled and he could hear the spray of water.  Then he caught the scent of fish and seaweed as the rock gave way before them to expose the moon-soaked landscape. 

The tunnel opened on a rocky cove, with a dock jutting out into the water like a finger.  A ship was moored at the end of the dock, sails furled and silent against the black waves.

They marched him down to the end of the dock and onto the gangplank.  “You should be grateful,” the woman said as the sailors led him across the deck.  “People would kill to be in your shoes.”

“Maybe you should let him be the judge of that.”

The new voice was music to his ears.  Even as the other four glanced around for its source, Ragnar reran it in his mind, wondering if it could be real.

One of the barrels lining the side of the ship moved.  The figure was dressed only in spacer’s underwear, but there was no mistaking the fiery red hair.

“What do you say, Ragnar?”  Athenais squared her stance, eyeing the other four.  “You feel like going with these spacerats?”

The graying woman narrowed her eyes at Athenais.  “You were a spacer, too?”

“Was?”  Athenais scoffed.  “Get out of here.  This shifter’s my property.”

Ragnar scowled. 
Property?

“You’re mistaken,” the graying cook said.  “He’s ours.  We’re using him to get off-planet.”

“I’d like to see how you’re going to do that without a ship,” Athenais said.  “Or are you planning on stowing him away somewhere and hoping that the Utopia sends out a search party before you die of old age?”  Athenais laughed.  “Don’t delude yourself.”

The cook’s arthritic fingers clenched.  “Kill her.”

Ragnar lunged at the nearest sailor, bringing him to his knees.  They grappled on the weathered planks of the dock, each trying to get hold of the other’s neck.  Ragnar had an advantage there, since the collar made it difficult for the other man to get his fingers in place around his throat.

Beside him, the cook unholstered an antique, combustion-dependent projectile pistol, aiming it at Athenais, who was struggling with the other sailor.  Ragnar released the man he was grappling with and grabbed the cook’s arm before she could fire.  With his other hand, he took hold of the sailor’s wrist where it was reaching for his throat.

In the next instant, the graying woman saw what he planned to do, but before she could turn the weapon on him, he shifted.

Briefly, Ragnar felt the woman and the sailor stiffen before the collar shocked him into unconsciousness.

“You hear that?”  Dallas straightened, staring at the little speaker in the corner of the room.  “She said something about Ragnar.”

Shhh.  Don’t look surprised.  They might be watching us.

“But they said his name.  Ragnar Reeve.  He’s loose on the island somewhere.”

Or he’s dead.  He wouldn’t let the others die so he could stay hidden.

“We’ve got to get a message to him,” Dallas said, getting excited.  “Something to let him know we’re on the island.”

As soon as you step out that door, they’re gonna know that you’re not as brainwashed as you act.

“Next time we go out, we could fly around with a sign attached to our ship.  Circle the island a few times.”

That’s gotta be the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard.  They’d know what you’re trying to do.

“It could be in the shifter language,” Dallas said defensively.

I don’t know the shifter language.  Do you?

“No,” she admitted.

Stuart was silent a moment.  Then,
I could do it.

“How?”

Next time we’re in the bay.  I could take another body.

Dallas felt a rush of fear at the thought of being alone.  “No way.  What if you got caught?  What if you got lost?  What if—”

Dallas.  Do you really want to ship freight for the rest of your life?

“Well, no…” she began.

If we can contact Ragnar, we’ve got a chance.  He’s a chameleon, even better than me.  We could infiltrate their ranks, figure out how to get you back on your ship.  As soon as you’re in the air, you’ve got a fighting chance.  You can’t fight Everest, but you could probably outrun her.

“
I’m not leaving without you,” Dallas said immediately.  “You’re my best friend.”

Stuart, to her relief, didn’t laugh. 
You think I’d let you leave without me?  Believe me, you get back on your ship and I’m gonna be right there with you.

Dallas fidgeted.  “Before I let you go anywhere, I want to hear a plan.”