Better to Beg Forgiveness (52 page)

Alex and Bal returned with an update on Aramis.

Alex said, "He's resting, lightly tractioned, and full of painkillers with healing goop plastered on his side. It'll take some time to heal. Also, the wound was getting aggravated to the point where hospitalization was essential. He will not be fully functional before we arrive. Gina and Shaman are with him."

"Damn," Jason said for everyone. Well, at least he would survive.

"I am going to go insane in here," Alex said to no one in particular, looking around at the tight quarters.

"Going to?" Jason asked.

"Plenty of room outside. Should I make you a door?" Elke snickered.

"Elke, please don't even joke about that," Alex said. "Sucks, but we'll manage. No one shooting at us, at least. Oh, yes, the captain was pissed," he continued, facing Jason again.

"Oh?" He had a pretty good idea why.

"Yes. There was no problem when I demanded her weapons. She had one pistol and one shotgun, handed them over with no real protest, so I doubt anyone else is armed. She complained that the transmitter in her quarters was an emergency backup. I explained that her knowing it had been disabled was a violation of our truce, and reduced the final ticket by ten thousand marks."

"Harsh, but fair." He'd wondered at the money they were tossing out on faith that someone else would pay it. Granted, a verbal contract wasn't binding in Grainne courts, unless agreed upon and recorded. But a verbal under duress, with money on the deck . . . a Citizen Judge would want to find in favor of it. So they were running on hope that Corporate would cough up the money, or that Bishwanath would regain enough stature to call on either national or even personal assets to pay them.

At least, as trained security professionals, even if they were charged and lost, they could likely get good indenture contracts.
Heck, I could charge it against my pension if I have to
, Jason thought.

Shaman came in looking cheerful.

"He will be fine, though recovery will take some time," he said. "I gave him a special ritual just to see the expression on his face. He cussed at me."

"Yes!" Jason grinned and they all chuckled in relief.

Apparently paralleling Jason's earlier thoughts, Shaman said, "I believe I may be out of the contract security business after we resolve this. There are better ways to make the money I will owe."

"Depends on how Corporate treats us," Alex said. "If they come through, I'll charge it off as bad negotiations."

"I do appreciate it," Bal said. "No matter what happens, you have my eternal thanks. I wish your employer and my alleged ally was as honest and professional."

"Yeah, I think BuState is the heavy here." Jason was only vague on how things worked at that level, but it seemed reasonable that
if
Bishwanath got out, a lot of people's dicks would be in vises. Which was why the pursuit had been so rough so far.

He shrugged inwardly. If it worked out, he'd have enough money to see him through four or five years. If not, he'd be in jail being adjusted. There really wasn't anything to be done about it at this point.

* * *

Weilhung was glad to be on-site himself. He had Weygandt on radio down below, which meant this was strictly a military matter at the moment. He aimed to keep it that way.

The station chief, named Lewis, was a no-nonsense type that Weilhung knew he'd work well with. Lewis had the details all laid out.

First, the video. Yes, that was the six of them and Bishwanath. Well done, he had to admit. Across a continent, an ocean, into orbit, aboard a ship. He had them pegged, though, and he was going to take them down. How that turned out depended on how they wanted to play.

"Okay, Chief, what else do you have?"

Lewis was lean, lined, bald, and brusque. "I've already interviewed both of our victims," he said. "I'm sure their story is legit. The perpetrators were seen outside, but were not distinctive enough for anyone to check in detail. You know how it is, sir." He adjusted his glasses and nodded. "You tell them to question anything suspicious and they still get complacent."

"It happens," Weilhung agreed. Things always did. Marlow had exploited that multiple times. So had Weilhung, on occasion. "We're sure of the ship?" he asked.

"We are, sir," Lewis agreed with a nod. "That was the only ship to leave in that time frame. The next freighter departing is in four hours if you want to search it. The passenger flight to Earth doesn't leave for three days, and I've ordered them to scan every face going in. I also made sure it was empty first."

"Really. How did you manage that?" Weygandt asked after a brief light-speed delay.

"I ordered them to depressurize slowly to half pressure, then come back up, then down to thirty percent, then cycle back up and down to vacuum. No one with any brains would stick around for the second cycle. As a plus, it took care of my certification for pests and quarantine."

That was creative
, Weilhung thought, grinning inside.

"Excellent. While I know you're a private corporation, Chief, I'd appreciate some discretion on this matter for now," Weygandt said.

"You don't want the press leaking about the individuals in question, or about potential destinations," Lewis said.

Damn, this was too easy.

"That's it. We'd also like to avoid diplomatic issues," Weilhung hinted.

"I won't talk to BuState if you will run interference. I'll just send them your way."

"I suppose that's me," Weygandt said, looking unhappy. "Yes, I'll take care of it. And you, Major?"

"I have things to do here, sir," he said, "if the Chief can give me more info."

"Tell me what you need."

An hour later, Weilhung called his best operators, starting with Captain Nugent.

"So, we're gearing for space, sir?" Nugent asked.

"Bring it," he agreed. "But I plan to let them get into Sol space first. Just because we're better doesn't mean I don't want the edge."

" 'If you ain't cheating, you ain't fighting,' " Nugent agreed. "Gear for spaceside and ground. Are we taking them alive?"

"If possible, by all means. If not, we want overkill."

"I'll pack. We can board in an hour."

"An hour it is. Out." Marlow was pretty damned good, but when it came down to it, he was a contract bodyguard. Weilhung was Recon. There was no competition.

Military service is described by the cliché of "months of mindless tedium punctuated by moments of sheer terror." That wasn't always accurate, Horace thought, and wasn't exclusive to the military. The trip out of system was long and tedious, and also sheer terror. He expected to have that stress until they docked in Grainne's system. He dared not take a trank himself. He needed to be fit for his guard watch and for medical support. He couldn't let anyone else touch Bal if there was a medical emergency. That was less an issue of trust than responsibility. If the man died under someone else's care . . . 

He hoped they could relax once they arrived at Grainne. Once done, hands shook, they were free to travel as they wished. Colonies were much laxer than either UN nations or protectorates, and Grainne's founding corporation had very a laissez-faire–minded board. Unless the team injured someone insystem, it was unlikely any assets would be put toward tracking them down and extraditing them. That was safety, of a sort, while they screamed for help and backup.

Of course, to get there, they had to go through Sol System unchallenged.

In the meantime, he needed food and sleep.

It was eight long days of guard duty and boredom, crammed into the tiny stateroom. The announced Jump was a moment of exciting dreariness.
Halfway, and no interception. Yet,
Alex thought.

And if you wanted added frustration, he thought, Elke was a meter away, behind a translucent door, naked and showering. She was exceptionally professional under the circumstances and made sure she was fully dressed at all times. While it wouldn't have been a problem to walk around naked if necessary, the distraction would have been there, this not being the middle of a fight but still a crucially dangerous situation. The matter hadn't been discussed. She wore clothes, they tried to reciprocate out of courtesy.

"All hands, jump in thirty minutes," came the warning.

Alex dropped down the ladder and entered the cabin, after being relieved by Aramis, who was functional but still shaky. He looked around and pointed at Horace.

"Can you dope us to recover faster from Jump shock?"

"I can inject you with a stimulant that will keep you alert, but it will be rough."

"Rough is good. You, me, Bart. Jason is already there. I want four on watch and ready to react. I wouldn't put it past this captain to try to phase through weirdly so we get shaken up more."

Shaman smirked. "That actually isn't possible, merely a vid trick, but the base concern is legitimate," he said. He pulled out his kit and grabbed four tips. He was already wearing his small kit and pistol.

"Ready," he said.

Back out, and Schlenker was coming out of her cabin, directly across the passage. The vacant one they occupied was close to hers for security reasons. Ironically, that now worked to their advantage.

As they arrived, the crew were clearly surprised and a bit annoyed. That might be at the mistrust or the crowding—there was not a tremendous amount of room available in the small chamber, and four mercs plus four crew meant a large arc of spectators—but it also could be that they'd had something planned. After Alex's punitive fine, the crew seemed to feel the intent was to beat them down to a free ride. Maintaining order while keeping that an unused threat was becoming a problem. At least the crew had the deposit and knew
it
was honest. There was a bottom limit, though, below which the share of the loot would drop below the normal trip salary these people earned and make them much more eager to dispute the situation.

"Attention all hands, Jump in fifteen minutes!" Gina announced. She looked younger than her decades but certainly had the experience. She'd done a good job on Aramis. She'd agreed to play chess, too. He could see the board without getting too close, the hour or so a day their schedules crossed, and the few minutes of that one of them wasn't occupied.

He could feel the drug kicking in. Shaman had been first, as he always would for such a case, so he could gauge the amount. He very surreptitiously got each of the others in turn, while they rotated around to mask the event. He'd commented once that it was ironic that healthy people with good veins were easier to work on than actual casualties who needed it.

The side effects of the stim were faint nausea, a slight pulse-pounding in the head, and sweats. Luckily, both stress and Jump shock had the same symptoms, so no one noticed as the time ticked down.

"Thirty, correcting, thirty-one, thirty . . ." Gina called off. He let himself be part tourist, watching the maneuver from a great perspective, while keeping the rest of himself alert for trouble.

The few final seconds were tense from anticipation. No one Alex knew had ever claimed to enjoy Jump shock. He let himself go limp, because that worked best for him. Aramis was so stiff he trembled. Before he could examine the others they

Jumped
.

Blurry, double-vision, nausea, and a wave of heat and itch from nerves badly abused swept over him, but he was still awake. Most of the crew twitched in their couches. Darwin the engineer was first to recover, looked up as he reached for controls, and got tight-lipped seeing all four hijackers alert and watching him. He slowed his movements and resumed normal operations.

"I need to call and conduct flight ops with Sol Jump Point Four," Gina said, matter-of-factly and very professionally.

"Continue," Jason said. "We want this flight to go well."

"Thank you," she said and keyed her circuit. "Jump Point Control, this is
GCS George
advising you of our arrival, time attached. The usual courtesy update to Jump Point conditions is attached. Last Salin broadcasts transmitting and updating at one-thousand-to-one rate. Our itinerary continues through to Jump Point Six to Grainne. Live response requested, priority routine, waiting, out."

It was seconds only before a male voice replied, "
George
, this is Arrival Control, your itinerary and flight path approved, attachments received, thanks for the contact. Stand by for news. Out."

Alex looked at Jason and indicated. With a nod, the man rose and they both headed below.

Once through the hatch, he asked, "Was that commo legit?"

"I have no idea," Jason said, meeting his eyes. "Oh, it sounds legit. I can't imagine they don't update like that. But no, I can't promise you there's no embedded code screaming to come and get us."

"Six more days, right?" Alex asked tiredly. It just never got better.

"Six days."

Horace didn't mind being crammed into the bed too much. At least it was a bed. Actually, it was quite comfortable. While the quarters were small, the roommates were courteous in the extreme, and quiet. Considering the open sky, bushes, rat-infested thatched cottages, or any number of other places he'd slept, it was choice.

"Four kings. Pay up."

"Christ, I'm dying here," he heard.

He rolled toward the middle, blinked, and looked.

Poker game. Jason, Aramis, Elke, and Bal. They were playing for . . . 

"How many is that?" Jason asked, dropping between the bunks into forward leaning rest position.

"One sixty."

"Right."

Push-ups. They were gambling for push-ups in half G.

Despite his complaints, Jason knocked out a hundred sixty push-ups straight through with barely a pause at one-thirty-five. His form was excellent, though he was starting to shake at the end. He wondered how many previous sets had they all done?

He rose, groaning, and Elke dropped. She strained starting around eighty, but she did make it.

Bal said, "I shall not shame you with the attempt. Add it to my tab I still hope to pay."

"Bored, are we?" Horace asked.