Edge of Redemption (A Star Too Far Book 3) (30 page)

Huron tapped his chest and the faceshield shot up. “Huron sealed.”

“What’s happening to us?” William asked. He glanced down and saw Bryce squirming in his suit. “Bryce, take a breath.”

“Yes sir!”

“The binder that the ship was built with is being colonized by the binder we repaired with. Like two bacterias, the dumber one is overtaking the more complex system.”

“So we don’t have anything to worry about?” William asked.

“Well, the new binder doesn’t have the strength to keep the ship together. We’ll be soft like a sponge.”

“How long?”

Huron glanced up to the ceiling and scanned the spiderwebs. “Couple of hours maybe. Maybe less.”

“What about everything else?”

“Eh, it’ll hold together, just don’t stress it too much.”

“You do know we’re going into combat, right?” William asked.

“And me being stressed is going to help, Captain?”

“Just a bit of tension, eh?”

Huron patted the wall and nodded. “But not too much!” He turned and walked out.

A targeting alarm flashed and a new overlay lit up in bright red. The ship’s computer identified it as the
Gallipoli
. It held a low orbit with a velocity that said it didn’t plan on leaving anytime soon.

“Comm request,” Shay said.

“Who?”

Shay nodded to the screen. “The
Gallipoli
.”

“Voice only.”

“Hello? You getting this? Ahh, no video. Well, that’s okay,” Mustafa said in his rich Turkish accent. “You should have left when you had a chance. But no matter.”

“
Gallipoli
, cease bombardment, power down and dock with the elevator,” William said. He wanted a fight, and he knew Mustafa would never surrender, but he didn’t want a court martial finding him to be lacking in the proper etiquette.

“Oh, that’s rich,” Mustafa said. “You know, the money wasn’t even the big motivator for me. It helped, no doubt, but to be able to stick it to the UC, well, that was precious. Now there’s a bit of revenge here, too—but you don’t know that, do you?”

William furrowed his brow. He was about to cancel the transmission when his curiosity got the better of him. “Revenge? What did I do to you, Mustafa?”

“Nothing to me. But you might know my pilot, Salamasina.”

“I don’t know a Salamasina.”

“No, Midshipman Grace,” a woman’s voice purred. “But I know you. You killed my love. You took my ship and left me to rot with those colonials on Redmond.”

Redmond. The memories flowed back and William felt the sense of victory when they claimed the ship from the Samoan mercenaries. His friend, Von Hess, had piloted a strider into the heart of the mercenary ship. When William entered that bridge, he found the strider, a dead man, and a woman red with anger. He kicked them both off and escaped with the ship. He never knew her name.

Mustafa spoke, “I’ll get no pleasure in this, Captain, but I can assure you that Sala will.”

“Then come and get me,” William said in a bored tone. “I barely remember the woman or her dead husband. Both amateurs if I was able to take their ship.”

“Fuck you,” Salamasina spat.

“No, Captain Grace, I’d much rather if you came and got us. I have a planet to bombard,” Mustafa said, and then a click announced that the feed was closed.

“You killed her old man?” Shay asked.

“Yes, it seems I did.” William leaned forward and felt his suit tight against his stomach. He tapped Bryce on the top of the helmet. “Bryce, lay in the polar orbit. Time to pick a fight.”

The room stunk of piss and feces. Natyasha stood in the corner with her arms wrapped around her shoulders. On the opposite side of the room lay the corpse of Malic with his throat raw and bloody. His eyes were open with his tongue bulging from his mouth. Urine was pooled on the floor beneath him.

Natyasha heard the sound of footsteps and tensed up. She fought back a sob and glanced over at Malic. He was dead when she came in, strangled, and alone in the room. Her heart beat faster and the footsteps paused.

Then they grew softer and away.

She let out a sob and held her hand over her mouth. Failure, everything a failure, she thought. The last thing she’d done for Winterthur was to facilitate a slaughter of citizens. Her citizens. She had no military to call on, only scattered cells of militia. It wouldn’t matter now. They’d come for her soon enough.

A ray of light diffused into the room through a narrow rectangular window. The slit of light was gray and cold. She stepped over into the light and stared out into the clouds. All she could see was a rising cloud of dust.

Everything she’d dedicated her life to was all gone to piss. No, she thought, I’ve always been dedicated to myself. Winterthur was just the vehicle. The bitter thought sat with her and she stared at the debris drifting into the sky. I’ve been held back by all this, she thought. Her mind formed a scapegoat, and it was called Winterthur.

The Hun were right, she thought, how could a democracy ever hope to contend with the efficiency of a modern totalitarian regime. All around her she saw the evidence: Malic dead, the planet ground under the alloy boot of bioaugmented soldiers. This was not a challenge for a Democracy, but it was an opportunity.

She laid out what she had left. People. It was all about that touch. Militia cells, some weapons caches, and Bark. Her heart winced for a second but it passed just as quickly. A means to an end. They’d come for her and she’d have something to offer. Winterthur would be hers. With or without the citizens.

More footsteps came. A group of footsteps marching together with one sound out of step. They stopped and a solenoid latch thudded open. The door swung in and a broad shouldered Hun officer stood with his hands at his side. Behind him a squad of the bioaugments stood placidly.

The officer stepped inside the room and gave a casual glance at the corpse. He gestured toward the body and two of the soldiers sprang in and drug it out. The piss trailed behind as the body passed.

Natyasha stood quietly and a worry hit her. What if he didn’t speak English? Her plan would go to nothing. “Governor Myint, I must speak to him. Myint. Myint!” she pleaded.

The officer turned and looked at her with dark, hooded, eyes. He looked bored, like this was just another task to be done.

“Don’t strangle me,” she said in a low voice. She pressed her back against the wall. Her eyes grew wide.

The officer cracked his knuckles and stepped closer.

“Wait!” she cried out. “I need to speak to Myint! I can help, I know where there are things, people, I can give him things!” She watched him step closer. She stared at his fingers and felt a dread shoot through her.

Shudders rolled through the floor as another orbital bombardment went through. The bioaugments in the hall shuffled their feet.

The officer stopped and cocked his head. “Explain,” he said in a low pitched Australian accent.

“The militia are out there. I know where they are, and weapons caches, and,” she caught herself and almost didn’t say it. “And I sent someone out to get Emilie Rose.”

“You?” he said, pulling himself back. The rising violence in him dropped back like a wave on the shore. He turned his head and spoke in a low voice in a language she didn’t know.

Natyasha felt the weight drop. Her heart beat slowed. Her cheeks felt warm as the blood rushed back into him. She was almost shaky as she braced herself against the wall. The adrenaline flowed away and she felt sick.

“Come, the Governor wants to see you.”

Each footstep felt lighter than the first. She could barely walk with the thought of the long armed bioaugments shuffling behind her. Fear rode high, but the fear ebbed away and the reality set in. A reality she didn’t particularly enjoy, but one that she could understand. By the time they passed through the complex and stood in the control room, she felt almost righteous.

She followed the officer. He stood rigidly with his back to her. The atmosphere of the command room had changed since she last left. The Governor stood in the center of the room with his hands clasped behind his back. He stared up, a face thick with concentration, and ignored the officer.

The screens showed cascading clouds of dust and debris and a mass of human beings trying to escape. Gunfire burst silently as the feed showed troops firing into the crowd.

One set of feeds didn’t move. One camera showed nothing but concrete, a second a bloody arm extended out, a third looked straight up into the sky. That was the screen the Governor stared at. Indicators showed a combat squad—dead.

“What is this?” he asked without turning to look. His eyes burned and spit flecked his lips. “Your people broke her out?”

“I wasn’t totally helpless,” she said. She made a quick deduction and decided to seize upon it. “They’ll do more.”

He scrunched his face and stared. “More?”

Natyasha lifted her chin. “I didn’t know how things were going to go. I had hoped we could have worked together, but in case we can’t come to an agreement I have my people.”

“Your people,” he sneered. “One squad! And a few dead guards. Hardly able to take on my forces.”

“Then why do you look so worried?” Natyasha asked politely.

Myint glared at her and snuck a glance up at the screen. The crowd was surging against the walls and trying to escape. The orbital bombardment was peppering the center of the immigration facility, but if they hit the edges the walls would crumble. “Where are they?”

“Tell you so you can strangle me when it’s all done?” Natyasha crossed her arms.

Governor Myint charged through the crowd of seated technicians and officers and stood before Natyasha. He leaned in close, his hand almost touching her throat. “I’ll strangle you myself,” he hissed. “Where. Are.
They?
”

Natyasha wiped spit from her cheeks and stared into the Governors eyes. A part of her felt a tint of regret. “I want to run this planet. You can have the title, but it’s mine.”

“You bargain with me?” Myint said, with a hint of laughter. “Now? And you bargain?”

“My people, my methods, you’re the muscle, I’m the one who gets things done.”

Myint shoved Natyasha to the ground. “I’m the one who gets things done.”

Natyasha stared up at the Governor, eyes burning. She ground her fingernails into her palms to keep from lashing out.

“If I so choose, you’ll run this planet. Now where are they?” the Governor yelled.

She stood and her knees popped. Her shoulder was sore and the front of her jacket was torn and shredded. It hit her how close the Hun were to losing control. If those citizens surged out of the camp, they might be able to overwhelm the defenders on the wall. She ran the thought through her mind and instead stuck with what she knew right now. “I need a link.”

An aide rushed up and handed Natyasha a flexible communications cell. The sort found in vending machines, for free in advertising booklets, and given away at promotional events. She slid her fingers on the plastic front and tapped in a set of numbers.

The screen bounced between green and yellow. There was no name on the receiving end. Natyasha tapped the corner and the flexible device vibrated as one large speaker. It was ringing. There was a click and the sound of wind rushing past a microphone.

Governor Myint waved and the room went completely silent. He leaned over Natyasha’s outstretched hand and cocked his head to listen better.

“Bark,” Natyasha said. “Status?”

“We have her.”

“Where are you?”

There was only the sound of the wind for a moment. A dim mechanical sound hummed in the background.

“Heading towards the beach, down where the old Cleveland distillation tower was. Are you okay?”

Natyasha glanced at Governor Myint and held his gaze for a moment. There was a look of recognition that passed between them both. “Fine, things are working out here. What is the plan?”

“She has weapons, we’re going to get ‘em,” Bark said.

“Where?” Natyasha asked.

“Core facility, by the shore.”

“Which one?” Natyasha asked again. The only Core facility she knew of was destroyed on the first day of the occupation.

“I don’t know where yet, we’re almost there. They had it hidden in the junk.”

Governor Myint signaled for her to cut the call.

“I’ve got to go. Keep me informed. And Bark?”

“Yes?”

“You’re doing great things.”

“No, Councilor,
you’re
doing great things,” Bark added, and cut her end of the conversation.

Natyasha curled the phone into her palm. It felt like a weight of silver.

Governor Myint shouted orders and the officer sprung into action. The view of the some of the feeds changed and troops left posts and ran for transports.

He turned back to Natyasha. “We’re sending troops to that position. How well you fare will depend on how well my troops fare. I’ll not trust one who strays so quickly from the path. What surprises will we find?”

Natyasha looked back and felt pinpricks of worry on her neck. She had no doubt that the Governor would send overwhelming force. But she didn’t know what surprises they would find. “I told you where, I don’t know what you’ll find.”

Governor Myint walked away and stood before the screen. “We’ll see, won’t we?”

––––––––

The truck bounced across an intersection. The fog of the shore rose up in front of them. The taste of the briny sea was in her nose. Emilie looked away from Emmet and watched the empty streets pass by.

“You could have told Captain Grace,” Emilie said to Emmet.

The ex-Core Marine shook his head and glanced at the militia. “I wasn’t trusting anyone.”

“But he’s UC,” Emilie said.

“We didn’t know what happened. Kari got a couple, but...” He looked away.

Emilie looked behind her and watched the second truck bounce over the same intersection. Trust, she wondered, who to trust? Not many options, she thought and looked to Emmet and Kari. About the only ones she could trust. Bark too, she thought, gotta trust that one.

The mist enveloped her and the view shrank to only the sides of the road. The air tasted like salt mixed with dirt. The sun was blurred by a smudge of soot and smoke. A voice called out from the cab of the transport truck.