Song of Scarabaeus (32 page)

Now a clanging sound came from the main hatch. The milits were forcing their way in. On the bridge, Edie saw Cat stir.

“Why did you have to kill your crew?” Edie asked, in the vain hope that by keeping him talking she could somehow distract him long enough to allow Cat to recover and take him down.

“Because the eco-rads found out what was going on. Can you imagine it?” He carelessly waved the spur around. “I was being blackmailed by both of them. The client forced me to run missions, the eco-rads forced me to sabotage them.”

“You set up missions to fail?” He was as callous as Edie had feared. And the idiocy of his plan made her wonder if his deeper motive hadn't been simply to get revenge on Stichting Corp in the only way he could. Wasting other people's lives to achieve it. Her throat tightened as she remembered Zeke's death-grin, Kristos's terrifying struggle for life, the serfs' bodies stripped to the bone, and her incompetent but popular predecessor, Jasna. Even Haller, much as she despised him, would haunt her dreams.

“There was no way out for me—until a few minutes ago, when your boss showed up offering a deal that solved all my problems. She has a lot of pull, that woman.” He pondered that for a moment. “With one word she can ensure my war record remains untarnished, no matter what the rads or anyone else tries to do. All she wants is you, teckie. I hand you over and my sins are forgiven.”

“Do you really think she'll keep her word? You're headed for the smallest, dirtiest prison cell in the Reach, Rackham. I promise you that.”

“Forgive me if I trust the word of a high-ranked Crib 'crat over a pathetic half-caste child with no idea of her place in the world.” Rackham glared at her with the sudden anger of a desperate man. “I have a new baby grandson. It's time for my family to have me back. I'm a
hero
!” He looked over his shoulder. “Gia!”

The serf appeared in the bridge doorway.

“Find out if any of the wine was spared in the rampage. A celebration is in order.”

Gia looked as astonished as Edie felt—that Rackham could be thinking about refreshments at a moment like this. The old woman shuffled down the ramp, hurried past Edie without catching her eye, and went into the dining room.

“I do hope they'll let me keep my collection,” he mused, crossing his arms awkwardly over the spur on his forearm. “What's left of it. Oh, the wine isn't so important, but most of those things are irreplaceable. Tell me, what is that lag doing back there?” Rackham took one step down the ramp, craning his neck for a better view. “He doesn't have a hope, you know. Gia!”

Edie saw Rackham's face turn white as he stared over her shoulder. Edie spun around in time to see Gia raise the captain's antique gun and fire.

Instinctively, Edie dropped. Gia walked forward, firing relentlessly, stopping only when Rackham's body toppled over the ramp railing and hit the deck. As Edie crouched there, she found herself face-to-face with the captain. His face was frozen in a look of shock. Blood frothed from his open mouth.

“You keep trusting the wrong people,” Edie whispered.

Rackham's throat bobbed as he tried to speak, but instead of words, his final breath hissed out. Edie's heart stuttered as she remembered Bethany. As a wave of dizziness hit her, she closed her eyes and gripped the cold metal deck.

Gia dropped the gun as if it burned her hand, her face as pale and shocked as her former master's. She looked toward the main hatch, confusion etched on her lined face.

“Are they coming to save me?” she whispered.

Edie didn't know what to say. Gia meant nothing to the Crib, to Natesa, to the rovers—even to Edie, if she was honest. No one was coming to save Gia. No one cared that she existed. Edie hadn't even realized Gia wanted to be saved.

Finn was standing right there. He took Gia's hand and
turned her to face him, tenderly, like she was a beloved grandmother.

“
I'm
here to save you.”

Her watery eyes met his. For a moment she looked confused, staring up into his steady dark gaze. Then her expression lifted, as though she saw him at last for who he truly was. Her liberator.

She looked at Rackham's body. “He's done so many terrible things.”

“Yes, he has.” Finn looked at her earnestly, and she returned his gaze with adoration. “But some of us survived, and we'll take care of you. Now, stay on the bridge with Cat. You'll be safe there.”

Gia nodded, drinking in his every word, then turned to walk up the ramp. Finn helped Edie to her feet and they went onto the bridge. Cat was sitting up, her right shin soaked in blood. Other bullets had grazed her neck and ear, leaving bloody gashes. Gia pulled a first aid kit out of a panel at the back of the bridge, her eye on Cat's wounded leg.

“I'm okay. I'm okay,” Cat muttered. “The
bastard
!” Edie helped her stand. “It'll take me a few minutes to power up so we can break free.”

“How long do we have?” Edie asked Finn.

The answer was a muffled explosion from the main airlock.

“They're in.” Finn turned to Edie. “Lock yourselves on the bridge. Cat, keep the link open.”

He left the bridge, ignoring Edie's cry of alarm. She followed, stopping at the top of the ramp to watch him jump down the ladder well to deck two. From the other end of the deck came the sound of wrenching metal as the milts forced their way past the ruined airlock.

“Come on!” Cat yelled with renewed energy. She clapped her hand on the hatch control pad. “Edie!”

Edie's legs carried her in the opposite direction. Somehow enough strength returned to get her down the ramp and to
the ladder. She heard Cat's expletive and the sound of the bridge hatch snapping shut. Cat was safe from capture for a while anyway. But Edie couldn't leave Finn.

She tumbled down the ladder. On deck two, Finn had already run to the far end of the corridor and was tying off the aft ladder well hatch, the one directly below where the milits were now entering the ship.

“Close that hatch!” he yelled.

Seconds later, he was at her side, climbing the ladder a few rungs so he could reach up and tie off that hatch, too.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” His voice was controlled but shaking with anger. “I told you to stay on the bridge.”

There was no time for explanations and excuses. “Just tell me how to help,” she said.

Finn jumped down and looked at her, his eyes wild with adrenaline. He must have known there was no point in recriminations. It was too late for Edie to go back. Above them, they heard the milits barking orders. Someone tugged on the hatch directly overhead, trying to open it.

Without a word, Finn took Edie's hand and led the way down the corridor. The intimate gesture felt out of place, but it calmed Edie.

He stopped at a hatch and readied his rifle.

Edie hadn't been paying attention to exactly where they were. “Whose—?”

Finn fired at the hatch lock and it splintered. The hatch shifted a few centimeters, then jammed. Finn wedged the rifle in the small gap for leverage, then shouldered open the hatch. He pulled Edie inside.

Rackham's quarters.

“Let's see what else the captain was hiding,” Finn said.

He moved efficiently through the large suite, checking every locker and cabinet. The room was filled with more of the captain's treasures, but it was immediately clear some of these were not for the eyes of the rest of the crew. Un
labeled crates, mostly, not exotic items meant for display. Edie tore them open with her fingers, checking for anything they could use. What did a flash bomb look like, anyway?

Cat's voice came over the comm. “Finn, what's going on?”

“Sit tight,” Finn responded. Edie watched him pull something out of a closet—a heavy tubular device the size of a barstool but half as tall. “Don't break away until I've disabled the
Laoch
.”

“You're going to disable a Wolf-class cruiser?” Cat did not believe him.

“Just keep this link open and do what I say.” He looked at Edie, and she noticed the change in him. He wasn't angry now. “Edie, they're going to get you. There's nothing you can do about that. They'll have their own heat sensors—they already know where we are. Just don't let them take you off the ship. I need fifteen minutes. You have to stall them.”

“What are you going to do? Is that a flash bomb?”

He didn't answer, but tipped out the random contents of a duffle bag on Rackham's bed and shoved the bomb inside the bag. Then he headed out the door with the bag over his shoulder, along with the empty rifle.

One of the overhead hatches was already partially wedged open. Edie could see light from top deck streaming through, hear the sounds of the milits, see a pair of busy hands packing explosives into the hinges. She and Finn climbed downward, not taking the time to tie off the hatches, past the infirmary where Yasuo lay unconscious on a bunk. They went belowdeck—the best place to hide, but Finn had already pointed out that hiding was useless. In any case, these were the same milits who'd boarded the ship a few days ago when Edie and Finn were on the
Charme
. They already knew the
Hoi
inside out.

They walked past Corky, still bound to the deck.

“Untie me! Dammit, I need to know what's going on!” he yelled.

They ignored him. Finn headed for the
Charme
. With no idea of his plan, Edie was suddenly worried he was going to
try and fly it. No, that would quickly put him out of range of the leash. He stepped inside the skiff and took two fresh e-shields out of the cabinet. He clipped them both to his belt. Only when he opened the EVA closet and pulled out a breather did Edie realize what he intended to do.

“You're going outside?”

“Don't have time to suit up. The shields will last a few minutes in a vacuum.” He shrugged the small breather reservoir onto his back. “The EM pulse will disable the ship. Cat will break us free, and I'll come back and deal with the milits.”

“What? No!” Her voice was little more than a gasp as terror closed her throat.

He didn't waste time with her protestations. “This way—”

He led her to the cellblock and swung open the heavy hatch. When she resisted, he pulled her along behind him to the far end and pushed her firmly into a cell.

“This is just to make it harder for them.” He turned to face her, letting the duffle bag slide to the deck, and put his hands on her upper arms, steadying her. “Remember, don't let them take you off the ship.”

Don't leave me behind.
That's what he meant.

“Finn, you can't defeat them. We have to surrender.” She hated the words coming out of her mouth, but all she could think about was getting him out of this alive.

Finn drew his finger along her cheek. “From the beginning, you fought for me. Now I'll fight for you.” His tone was gentle, reassuring, and he gave a grim smile. Did he even believe his own words? “Trust me. I've done this before.”

Unarmed and alone against four milits? Edie knew it wasn't true. She knew he didn't believe he could do it, either. But he had to try.

She nodded, tried to return his smile as tears burned down her cheeks. She could pretend to believe him, if that was what he wanted.

When he pressed his forehead to hers, pulling her against his body in a desperate embrace, she knew for certain that
he didn't expect to survive. And that he was wasting precious time saying goodbye. A sob ripped from her throat.

For a moment longer she clung to him, then stepped back. He closed the cell grille, holding her gaze, and locked it. Then he picked up the duffle bag and moved away. She watched him smash the rifle butt into the console near the hatch, frying the circuitry of the cell locks so the milits would have to cut her free. The lights winked out and she was alone.

 

Two weeks ago, Edie had faced Finn here, when he had been the one locked up. As she sat waiting, breathing through feverish shivers as neuroshock took hold, she heard voices and movement on the other side of the cellblock door. The milits were here, less than a minute after Finn had locked her in.

The hinged door opened. Bobbing flashlights indicated the approach of the milits. Within seconds, she was locking eyes with a steady, professional gaze that harbored no malice. Only clear intent—to capture her.

“Ma'am, are you okay?”

Capture her…or rescue her? His tone wasn't adversarial. As a second milit began cutting through the lock, it occurred to Edie that Natesa really had no idea of the situation on the
Hoi
. And now here she was, locked in a serf's cell, apparently awaiting rescue. Would it help or hinder her now to maintain the pretence that she was entirely the victim and wanted to come home?

Don't let them take you off the ship.
That was the most important thing. Finn and Cat had their jobs to do. Edie's role was comparatively simple.

“I'm sick,” Edie said. It should be clear to the milits that that was the truth. “I need to get to the infirmary. Deck two.”

The first milit ignored the request. “Sir, we've found her,” he reported over the commlink built into his helmet. He wore light armor and his e-shield wavered in the dim light of the cellblock.

“Is that deck secure?” came the reply.

“Not yet. We found one guy tied to the deck and he claims there's someone else on deck four, but we're not reading it. They may be blocking our sensors. There's another unconscious in the infirmary on deck three. We've got a lot of ground to cover down here.”

“The rest of your team can complete the sweep. Bring her to deck one.”

Once freed from the cell, Edie stumbled out and the milit escorted her to top deck. On the way, she counted two more milits roaming the mid decks. On top deck, a milit was cutting through the bridge hatch and another stood at the airlock. Six milits plus the rest of this guy's team belowdeck—perhaps two more—for a total of eight. Twice the number Finn had been expecting.

Yet another, this one with commander's stripes, emerged from the briefing room to the left of the bridge ramp. He held a palmet that he must have picked up in there, frowning as he flicked through it while talking over his commlink.

“No, ma'am, I can't do that. The airlock is not secure until we've seized the bridge. I'm not going to lose a prisoner to a decoupling accident.” He looked up and cut the link. “Edie Sha'nim?”

Edie nodded.

“Who's the dead guy?” He jerked his thumb toward the body on the deck.

“Captain Rackham. One of his crew killed him.”

“And where is this crew? We've only found two others. Are they all on the bridge?”

“I don't know,” she lied. “Rackham killed most of them.”

The commander nodded thoughtfully. “Search her, then put her over there,” he told her escort.

The milit patted her down, taking her commlink and tool belt. Then he extracted the flattened talphi cocoon from her pocket. He looked at it quizzically but asked her no questions as he confiscated it. Edie groaned inwardly, unsure of what to do. If she told them what it was and why she needed it, they might whisk her off to the
Laoch
's infirmary.

No sooner had the milit settled her on a couch beside the viewport than Edie heard Natesa's voice echoing down the aft corridor.

“I told you, she's not a prisoner! Where is she? Let me through!”

Natesa stormed onto the deck, a flustered young milit in her wake. The commander stiffened, his frown deepening.

“Ms Natesa, this area is not secure. I'll have to ask you to wait on the
Laoch
.”

Nothing was going to stop Natesa once she had made up her mind. “Nonsense. I'll wait here with Edie.”

Edie stood up to face Natesa, a wash of bitter emotions clouding her mind. Natesa looked impeccable, as she always did, but there was a tightness to her expression that Edie didn't recognize. Was it worry over Edie's fate? Anger? Or suspicion, perhaps. A few days earlier she'd called Edie a criminal—perhaps only as a ploy to get on board the
Hoi
, but Natesa could turn that accusation into fact if she needed to.

Natesa stopped a few meters from Edie, uncertainty crossing her face. That hesitation was new, too. Then she glanced with distaste at the milits roaming the deck.

“Commander Whelan, where can we go that's a little more private?” she demanded.

The commander had given up protesting. He jabbed a finger at the dining room. “In there. Watch out for broken glass.”