Faring Soul - Science Fiction Romance (25 page)

He let out another deep breath. “Brant
pointed out that no matter what I do, or any of you, the Federation
is going to do everything it can to kill me. It jolted me into
running the odds of making it out of this alive.”

“No wonder you lied,” Catherine said
softly. “I couldn’t compute the odds. I can’t even tell you what’s
going to happen in the next few hours. But I don’t need to figure
it out to know that the odds right now are awful.”

Bedivere picked up her hand and held
it, as he rolled back over on to his side to face her. “Brant said
something a few days ago. It was part of the reason why we’re lying
here together now.”

“What did he say?” Catherine asked. She
wasn’t really surprised to find that Brant was at the root of
Bedivere’s sudden seduction. Brant had been watching them both for
a long time and his mind worked purely in terms of emotions and
relationships.

Bedivere chuckled. “He said a lot about
my less sterling qualities, but in among the vitriol, he also said
that if I was afraid about the future and what I might subject you
to because you’re with me, then I should give you the option.”

Catherine’s heart leapt hard against
her chest. “The option?” She could barely breathe. Fear was
flooding her mouth and her mind.

“To stay with me, or escape.”

She swallowed the bitter taste in her
mouth. “Don’t even say it,” she whispered.

“I have to, Cat. I know the odds and
they’re not good. They’re so far from hopeful it makes me feel sick
to even contemplate them. Every agency and authority in the galaxy
is coming after
me
. Not you. They couldn’t give a damn about
you anymore. And that’s your escape route, Cat. You and Brant and
Lilly. I could ground you on Barros and leave you here, out of the
way.”

Catherine sat up, chilled. “No,” she
said flatly.

“You should at least consider it,” he
said softly.

She shook her head. “We started this
together,” she said flatly. “I don’t walk away from a job half
done.”

“So now I’m a job, huh?”

Catherine wasn’t prepared for the
sudden sharp sting of tears. They spilled down her cheeks before
she could halt them. But before she could wipe them away,
Bedivere’s fingertips caught them and took them.

“Don’t leave me,” she whispered, unable
to lift her voice any higher. “Don’t leave me behind. I want to
fight for you, too.”

He was silent.

Catherine reached for logic, which had
always won him over before. “The odds have to be better if I’m with
you. Tell me they are.”

Bedivere drew her to him. “Yes, the
odds are better.”

She knew he was lying, but it meant she
could stay, so she said nothing more.

Bedivere settled in his seat. “Cathain
or bust,” he said and started up the jump gate prep.

Catherine glanced behind her.
“Ready?”

Lilly nodded and Brant just gave her a
tight smile.

She started reviewing the Itinerary and
the raw data feeds on her console. “We’re on the far side of Barros
from the gates,” she pointed out.

“We could wait until the station shows
up, let it come to us,” Brant suggested.

Bedivere shook his head. “No more
waiting,” he said. “I’ll sling shot around and that will build up
velocity for the jump.”

“I’ll factor it in,” Catherine said
quietly. She felt vaguely nauseous and recognized the sensation.
She was afraid. She reminded herself yet again that this was the
one best chance Bedivere had of surviving the Federation’s
relentless pursuit. They could run, but sooner or later, the
Federation would catch them because Bedivere couldn’t leave
Federation space, not if he didn’t want to be bound to the ship
forever. “Cathain,” she said, exhaling.

Bedivere picked up her hand and kissed
the back of it. “It’ll be fine.”

She tried to smile.

The ship was already building up speed
as he skimmed it around the planet’s atmosphere, using the gravity
well to increase speed. She busied herself with the long list of
things she had to take care of to make the jump safely.

“We’ll be moving out of the Barros
eclipse in a few minutes,” Bedivere said, his voice distant as he
concentrated on his dashboards. “The gates and the station will be
almost dead ahead.”

The engines were starting to wind up,
building to the sub-sonic scream that heralded jump speed.

“I’ve contacted most of the media
channels on Cathain,” Lilly said from behind them. “There’s
interest stirring, but none of the official Board satellites
twitched.”

“Because they don’t see it as a Board
matter,” Catherine said. “We’ll take whatever we can get.”

“Thirty seconds,” Bedivere warned. He
started to straighten the ship up out of the parabola around the
planet. The location of the gates was locked in by the Itinerary,
so he could use the long range scanners to pick them out long
before they were visible to even the highest focus the monitors
could display. Bedivere kept his head down, watching the displays,
adjusting minutely. It was only humans who needed to
see
where they were going. Bedivere could navigate purely by
instruments.

Then he lifted his head sharply to look
at the heads-up display, his jaw tightening.

“What is it?” she demanded, her gut
clenching.

The engines were slowing. Bedivere
looked at her and shook his head.

“Glave save us…” Brant muttered. He was
at the weapons console and that had the same long range viewfinders
the navigation dashboards did. Whatever had alerted Bedivere, Brant
had seen, too.

Bedivere wordlessly adjusted the
display. The station and the gates, which were both simple
pinpricks of brighter light on the star field ahead, leapt in size
while Barros become a giant blue-green arc to one side.

There were more bright pin pricks of
light in front of the gates.

“Oh, hell,” Lilly whispered.

Bedivere increased the scale. Barros
disappeared, the station slid past the edges of the display and the
gates themselves grew to dominate the view. The pair of monstrous
great curved structures hung in the sky, bracketing empty
space.

In front of them sat Federation
carriers and cruisers and three battle frigates, all facing in
their direction, almost like they were waiting for them.

“…six, seven, eight, nine of them!”
Lilly breathed.

“And six behind,” Bedivere said.

“More above and below,” Brant said, his
voice hoarse. “They’ve boxed us in.”

“That’s not possible,” Catherine
whispered.

“How did they know we were here?” Lilly
said. “I killed the locator!”

“Maybe it was sending more than just a
locator signal,” Bedivere said.

Catherine bit her lip.

“You mean, it was
listening
?”
Lilly cried.

“We spoke about jumping to Barros, just
before we jumped there,” Catherine said. “That was before Lilly
removed the locator.”

“Then Sarkisian knew, even while he was
speaking to you.” Bedivere shook his head in disgust.

The ship came to a dead halt and hung
in space, neatly in the middle of the trap.

An incoming communications request
blinked red on the console.

Catherine looked at it, then at
Bedivere. Bedivere shrugged.

She accepted it and brought up the
heads-up display again, so that everyone could see it.

There was a man in Federation uniform
looking at them. He had a burn scar that covered most of one cheek
and made his mouth on that side snarl. Catherine found it hard to
not look at the scar. In this day and age, tissue regeneration was
a simple matter. That must mean that this man
wanted
to look
deformed.

How odd.

“I am Admiral Marquering of the
Federation defense fleet,” he said.

“Defense?” Lilly repeated softly, her
tone dry.

On Catherine’s dashboard, a text
message appeared.
ALL Barros media satellites locked in and
drawing on our visuals
.

The media was paying attention.

“I will speak to the machine,”
Marquering said.

Bedivere touched the communications pad
in front of him and Marquering’s gaze shifted to him. “I have been
instructed to tell you that the Federation does not make war upon
its citizens. Release your human hostages and I will end this
matter cleanly.”

“We’re not hostages!” Catherine said
sharply.

“You have five minutes,” Marquering
said. The screen dissolved into a dust cloud of pixels that
separated and floated away.

Bedivere turned to face them all, his
expression thoughtful. “Sarkisian,” he said softly.

Marquering’s second-in-command was an
opinionated major who might one day make a good captain of his own
ship, so Marquering tended to let him question as he saw fit. But
now Angus turned to look at him with an incredulous expression.
“We’re
negotiating
?”

“You heard me,” Marquering said. “I
have orders.”

“The Federation doesn’t negotiate with
criminals,” Angus argued. “Especially when we’re at the highest
threat level you can reach without actively exchanging fire.”

“I am aware of that, thank you, Major
Angus.”

Angus lifted his hands from his sides.
“We’re just going to let the humans go?”

“Unless the machine twitches the wrong
way, yes, that’s exactly what we’re going to do.”

“I need you to head for the life pods,”
Bedivere said, speaking to all of them.

Cat jumped to her feet, instantly
angry. “No! They’ll blow you out of the sky as soon as we’re
clear.”

“They’ll do that even if you’re still
aboard, once the deadline is passed.” Bedivere shook his head.
“Sarkisian must have ordered this. No one else could direct a fleet
Admiral. He’s trying to help you even now, Cat.”

“I’m not going. Whatever you’re
planning, I can help.” Her jaw was set. Determined.

“You can’t help. Not with this. This is
a chance—one I didn’t think we’d get. I had assumed that as soon as
they spotted us, the Federation would open fire.” In fact, every
projection he’d developed said they would destroy the ship the
moment they were in range. Nothing in Federation fleet history said
they might behave differently. This was unprecedented. “They’re
going to let the three of you go. I can’t pass that up,” he
added.

He could see that Cat was on the verge
of panic and his heart squeezed. Her gaze was flickering around the
room, sizing it up for enemies. Her knuckles on the back of her
chair were white. “I’m not moving,” she said, her voice hoarse.

Bedivere looked at Brant. “Please, help
me with this,” he said. “You know I have to do it.” Brant was the
one person on the deck who might understand.

Brant’s gaze flickered toward
Catherine. Bedivere understood. Cat would not leave easily.

The minutes were ticking down in his
mind. The Admiral would not wait a second beyond the five minutes
he had given him…if he got the full five minutes in the first
place. Time was critical.

So Bedivere steeled himself. He moved
fast, lifting his arm and driving his elbow into the vulnerable
point just behind Cat’s ear in a short, sharp jab.

Her eyes rolled up and she crumpled,
but he caught her before she hit the floor and hoisted her up into
his arms. “Sorry,” he told her. “I’d rather you live to argue
another day.”

Lilly was watching with big eyes, her
lips parted. Her face was very pale. Brant caught her arm. “Hurry,”
he urged her.

Bedivere followed them down to the
bowels of the ship and into the starboard airlock chamber where the
pods sat waiting. He had activated them on the way, so they had
already drawn out of their ejection tubes. Their lids were open and
ready, the interiors lit.

Brant helped Lilly into the first,
kissed her hard but swiftly, then closed the lid over her. He
pressed his hand against the armored shell for a moment, then
stepped into the second pod. “You’ve got a plan, right?” he asked
Bedivere.

Bedivere lowered Catherine into the
remaining pod and arranged her limbs. “Sort of.”

“You’re not just going to sit there and
let them take pot shots at you, are you?”

Bedivere found he could smile. “Does
that sound like me?”

Brant smiled back and lay down in the
pod. “You’ll have to tell me about it. Later.”

“Over brandy,” Bedivere promised.

Brant closed the lid on his pod and it
hissed as it sealed.

Bedivere stroked Cat’s cheek, then
forced himself to close the pod and seal it. The minutes were
racing by, but even so, he found his hand hovering over the
activation board. He was hesitating. The emotional, human part of
him was stopping him from doing what he needed to do to keep her
safe.

With a growl he slammed his hand over
the start button and left the room. He didn’t stay to watch the
pods leave the ship. He could monitor internally, using the tether.
Ship systems reported back to him as the pods ejected with the
speed of a bullet. It gave the pods velocity enough to race through
space away from a ship that would be exploding, or burning, or
otherwise unsafe.

As he monitored, Bedivere made his way
back to the flight deck. At the same time, he brought the engines
back on-line and got the ship moving, all as he moved through the
now-empty corridors and rooms.

By the time he reached the flight deck,
the ship had gathered speed.

The heads-up display in the middle of
the flight deck formed, as that was the one closest to where
Bedivere was. He could have tapped directly into the visual feed
and “watched” it in his head, without having the display form, but
he had spent so many years using human senses to interact with the
world that it was automatic now.