Gabriel's Ghost (45 page)

Cortez scanned it and briefly studied us. She was an older woman. Her duty pins showed twenty-five years. I couldn’t remember if I’d ever seen her on Marker before, but it wasn’t unlikely.

“Captain Guthrie.” She handed him back his card. “Jumptalk has it you’re up for an admiralty. Congratulations.”

“It won’t be official until next week, but thank you.” Philip flashed her a smile, full of Guthrie confidence and magnetism. She smiled back.

Hell, it’d worked on me for years. He ranked right up there on my list of charming bastards.

Megan Sybil Baker - 221

“Your associates are clear.” She waved us through. The male striper leaned over, said something in her ear.

Cortez responded with a narrow-eyed glance. “That’s Philip Guthrie, you idiot.” She caught Philip’s glance back to her. “Sorry, sir. We’ve been told to watch for some Farosian terrorists.”

“I’m aware of the advisory. Thank you for your cooperation.” He leaned toward me as we walked. His fingers closed around my elbow for a few moments. “The advisory might be genuine, or something Burke’s put in place, looking for you. He’s evidently trying to drag the Farosians in this. His contact in Prew’s circle either has a reason to shed suspicions on Blaine’s people or else his imagination is severely limited. Every time something happens lately in the Empire, the Farosians are blamed.”

“That’s because I’m not around anymore,” Sully said, his gaze straight ahead.

“You, however, were at one time responsible for a large number of problems. Including the one you’re in now. Mind telling me how a
Kyi-Ragkiril
didn’t know this Solaria woman worked for Burke?”

“Because she believes she’s on a holy mission. That’s all I read from her. The insane believe their lies to be truth. Her insanity fits nicely into her religious devotion.”

The corridor curved slightly. In the center, a group of young Fleet personnel, all ensigns, talked animatedly, laughing. They saw Philip’s captain’s insignia and quieted for a moment.

Philip steered me around them, his hand grasping my arm again. “Do the Englarians know what you are?” he asked Sully.

“They know I’m doing everything I can to stop the gen-labs. Beyond that, they haven’t asked and I don’t volunteer.”

Valid reasons.
I remembered him saying that.
But isn’t an omission a lie
?

If the truth is so unacceptable, so heinous to them, what have I achieved by revealing it?And if it prevents them from working with me, then jukors breed and more Takas die
.

I held my thoughts for several steps. Words like risk, fear and wisdom surfaced after a moment, but they were my own words, not Sully’s. I thought about what had happened on the
Karn
. Revealing he was a
Ragkiril
would have jeopardized the mission at that point. Finally I nodded.
But sooner or later, you have to trust someone. Especially if you’re asking her to trust
you.

I’ve learned that. And I will change that. Don’t give up on me, angel-mine
.

Don’t give me any more half-truths
.

None
.

Warmth filtered through me, lay softly against those painful tendrils gripping my heart.

We were almost through Yellow, Blue sector not far away. One more checkpoint and then the shuttle bay. I fell into my little time game, the one I’d played when we’d headed for the
Diligent Keeper
on Moabar Station. Ten minutes to freedom. Five minutes to freedom. Then I remembered it hadn’t brought me any luck. Though things this time did seem to be going better. However, I wasn’t ready to dub it, in Ren’s words, ‘a good day.’

We crossed into Blue. Three stripers waited, again, at the checkpoint. One female, two male. Philip went through the routine, turning on his charm to the appropriate gender. Turned on his authority and Guthrie heritage to the one male striper who took a bit too long with our ID.

Sully walked casually toward the scanner, smiled his own rakish smile at the woman. Reading, scanning, his eyes already darkening. Ready.

But it wasn’t needed. They let us pass.

Megan Sybil Baker - 222

The traffic in Blue sector was lighter. Dinnertime was over, people were back in their apartments or perched on a barstool somewhere. The
Loviti
had a damn fine galley, as I remembered. I didn’t know what I wanted more. Dinner or a long, hot shower.

Or a captaincy again? Philip’s words rolled through my mind.

“Seven Blue’s the next set of double-doors,” Philip said.

Where are Ren and Verno
?

On their way. They opted for the freight lifts. Slower, but more Takan workers, less chanceof Lazlo following them
.

And Takas would defend their own.

Philip glanced at the pad as he keyed in his access code. “Shuttle’s in early. Good. I’ll feel one hell of a lot better once we’re back on board.” The doors slid open and he put his hand on my shoulder, guiding me through. “We’ll get cleaned up. You and I should have dinner. We have to talk about a lot of things.” His mouth tightened. “Something’s happening in the Empire, Chaz. I don’t like it.”

“And Burke’s behind it?” We were back to what he’d alluded to in Thad’s office.

“He has power, but not that much. That’s why all this doesn’t make sense. I may have to talk to Tage, again.” He squeezed my shoulder. “Actually, Burke’s move may be the proof I need.”

If Philip had been talking to First Barrister Darius Tage, then this was serious, very serious.

“Later,” he said, again, when I looked up in question. “I’ll explain, later.”

Sully followed us into the small airlock control room, open and unsealed now with a ship in the berth. Through the wide doorway the sleek form of an Imperial Captain’s Pinnace appeared almost suspended in the center of the cavernous, dimly lit bay. Behind her, outer door guidance lights formed a half-halo, casting eerie shadows through the ladders and maintenance rampways on the left and right. Boxy cargo stages for loading and unloading dotted the floor. The ship’s six wide landing struts and short rampway were darkened, telling me the pinnace had probably been in longer than we thought. I would’ve preferred a hot shuttle, with engines ready to go. I wanted off Marker, too.

The corridor doors slid closed behind us. Philip leaned over the small ops panel, hit the intercom, opening the link to the bridge of the pinnace. “Tyler, Guthrie here.”

I let out a short sigh and stared at the pinnace and wide shuttle bay, seeing neither. I might well drop from exhaustion before we got to the
Loviti
.

Sully’s arm curved across on my shoulder. His breath ruffled against the top of my head. A rush of warmth curled through me. Demanding. Giving more.

“Tyler, this is Captain Guthrie.”

I heard Philip’s note of concern but I couldn’t move away from Sully. Or from the warmth, the now relentless spirals of pleasure. His hand moved to my face, touched the line of my jaw. He brushed his thumb across my lips. I saw myself, for a moment, reflected in a mirror. Wearing an Englarian nun’s robe, my hair braided with a leather and silver beaded tie. And Sully, eyes smoldering, standing behind me, caressing my face.

Mine. All that I am, is yours
.

I never knew he’d said those words to me that night. I knew them from when we’d offered them to each other. Not in the monastery now called up in my memory. But in that place I called gray fuzzy soft. In the
Kyi
.

Mine. All that I am, is yours
.

Megan Sybil Baker - 223

Another memory washed over me. Sully’s memory. I saw a bulkhead before me, I felt only pain, fear, desolation. Then arms came around my waist, from behind me. Chasidah’s arms. Holding me, sending acceptance, forgiveness. For what I am. For what I had to do to Kingswell, to Tessa Paxton.

She didn’t understand, I hope to God she never understands what I do, what I am. To be damned by the darkness that lives inside me.

To be saved by her love.

No more half-truths. No more omissions. Sully was starting to show me all.

The abrupt sound of Philip’s hand slapping against the commlink jolted me. “Damn unit’s off-line.”

Sully’s hand slid down my arm, leaving a hazy feeling of warmth, love, trust.

“Problems?” Sully and I asked simultaneously.

“Commlink’s not-functioning, again. I’ll go open the ramp hatch manually.” Philip strode through the wide opening toward the pinnace.

Something clicked three times behind me. Ren? But corridor doors click once on opening. Three clicks… I spun around. The status lights on the door to the corridor went from green to red. Locked. Someone had auto-locked the doors.

The red went to red-flash. Airtight lock. Outer bay doors were prepping to open, to let in the vacuum of space.

Sucking any living thing in the bay, out. Dead. Lifeless.

I grabbed Sully. “Airtight’s active! Find overrides, shut it down! Don’t let those doors open!”

I didn’t wait for his response. I tore out of the control room, screaming Philip’s name.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Laser fire spit through the air. Philip dropped to the ground. I dove, hit the decking hard, Stinger out.

He flattened himself next to me, swearing. He was unarmed, but his eyesight was excellent. “There!”

I fired at the telltale red point of light, heard the high-whine of another laser pistol behind me. Sully, angled against the edge of a door panel in the brightly lit control room.

“Airtight’s on!” I sent a few more shots into the darkened bay. “Get back to the control room.”

Philip’s voice was a low rumble. “Room’s not sealed. That won’t help us.”

He was right. The wide door panels, large enough to permit cargo access, were still locked open. The edges of the doors, the single row of chairs and the small ops desk provided little cover.

“Looks like someone wanted to remove that option,” he added. The rapid discharge of Sully’s laser pistol whined behind us. “Can we disable the outer doors?”

“Sully’s headed there.”

Laser fire sizzled a few feet from us. I answered with three shots back at the source. “How’d they find us?”

“This Lazlo knows Thad. That nun knows you. Probably someone followed us from Thad’s office.”

Another barrage streaked in our direction. Much too close this time.

“Move!” Philip barked.

I sprang into a crouch then bolted to a low ops console behind us, Philip beside me.

“Been awhile since we had this kind of fun.” He was breathing hard.

I automatically scanned left and right, catching his tense grin. “You always were a demon for night training.”

“It kept you close to me.” His hand wrapped around my upper arm. “On three. Break for that back wall. Lots of cover there.”

He squeezed my arm. “One. Two. Three.”

We ran in a semi-crouch. Laser fire followed but fell short. It stopped when we reached the side wall.

I saw outlines of the familiar ladders, panels, more op-consoles jutting out. Large, hard fronted storage cages offered the best protection. I sidled behind one. Philip snugged up against me. We were both breathing hard now.

Then suddenly a scream, a woman’s voice, echoing in the bay.

“Sullivan! The unholy shall die!”

Philip’s eyes went wide.

Megan Sybil Baker - 225

“Berri Solaria,” I told him. Laser fire continued to whine through the bay. “Devout. And persistent.”

My eyes adjusted to the dim light. There was a wide rampway grating overhead, ladders, more op-consoles. More cages. Berri’s people couldn’t cross the center of the bay without being seen. And they couldn’t run along the outer doors, which were ringed by lights. But they could cross overhead on the maintenance rampways.

Philip’s gaze followed my own. “We’d hear anyone coming across there. Could get a clear shot at them. I don’t think they’re that stupid.”

It had been over five minutes since I’d run after Philip. He was right. Berri and her friends wanted us together in the center of the bay walking to the ship, easy targets.

Now, we were in two different places. We needed to get back together, find a way out.

I turned. Philip’s mouth came down hard on mine, his arms locking around me. He kissed me with an intensity I’d forgotten, with all our arguments, our anger and hurt feelings. He kissed me with an intensity of a man who’d known my body, intimately, for eight years. And knew exactly how I liked to be kissed.

Laser fire whined again. I jerked back, shaken.

“Chaz. I’m sorry.” His voice rasped.

“Not here. Not now.” I ignored my unsteady emotions, pushed myself quickly to the edge of the cage and tried to make out shapes in the shadows. My ears strained for footsteps, the rustle of fabric. But except for Philip’s harsh breathing and the pounding of my own heart, it was quiet again.

Too quiet.

Red target beams erupted into white streaks from the patches of darkness under the pinnace. I trained the Stinger on the lights. The underside of the ship flashed in more small bursts. I hit landing struts, scanner arrays. A cargo stage near the ship’s stern sparked. But not our attackers. They must have moved under the pinnace when Philip and I had run for the far wall.

More laser fire came now from my right, from far down the long bay wall, flaring against the pinnace’s hull. Sully. I caught a flurry of thought pictures. Ren and Verno pulling back into the lifts just as two Crossley Burke security jogged past. Reinforcements. Lazlo was bringing in reinforcements.

Tell Ren to call Thad’s office
. I sent Sully the link number and an emergency code.

He acknowledged, adding,
Tell lover-boy to keep his goddamned hands off my wife
.

His label for me since Dock Five. To dissuade Ilsa, tease Dorsie. And now, no doubt, to irritate Philip.

Sully fired off another long burst toward the ship.
Panel’s trashed. They’re not going to
open the bay doors. They want those datatabs first. Badly. We must have stumbled on something
very important
.