The Darwin Elevator (43 page)

Jarred moved up to the doorway and chanced a quick glance inside. “Son of a … they’ve sealed it. The emergency bulkhead.”

Russell leaned in and saw it, too. A massive metal barrier, right at the halfway point of the connecting hall.

Jarred grimaced. “We should check on the other junctions. Maybe they couldn’t seal all three.”

“I’ll join you,” Russell replied. “You,” he said to the closest soldier, “you’re in charge. No one gets through that door, got it?”

“Understood!”

“Lead on, brother,” Russell said to Jarred.

He stood before the fourth set of emergency bulkhead doors that blocked Section H. Twenty minutes ago, after he and Jarred had found them all sealed, Russell had demanded some onc-rope be brought up and sent four men to fetch it. Jarred had gone with them, so he could report in to Alex Warthen.

Russell kicked the thick barrier with the bottom of his boot. “Where the
hell
are my explosives?” he shouted.

A number of men milled about, and all suddenly tried to look busy.

Jarred Larsen appeared a minute later, alone and empty-handed.

Russell spread his arms. “Are we supposed to claw it open?”

“Alex said no explosives,” he replied. “Can’t risk the damage to the station.”

“That’s great,” Russell said. “Let the bastards slip away.”

“I sent a team to get a water torch from maintenance,” Jarred said. “They didn’t show?”

Russell made a show of looking around.

“Dammit,” Jarred said. He produced a small handheld communicator. “This is Larsen, where’s my torch?”

Nothing but static from the other end.

A voice finally crackled over the small speaker. “Fiske here, sir, I’m near maintenance. Want me to track them down?”

“Yes, please.”

An uncomfortable silence followed. Russell paced back and forth in front of the door, struggling to control his rage. He could picture Platz’s men, grabbing anything useful and stuffing it into their lifeboats.

Minutes later the radio crackled again. “Fiske here, sir. We’ve got a problem.”

“What’s going on?”

“They’re dead. Looks like an ambush.”

Jarred slapped his own forehead and dragged his hand down his haggard face.

Russell felt the same. The enemy was supposed to be contained within Section H. “How the hell? Oh … I get it. The ‘Ghost’ and the prisoner.”

“This is a right bloody mess,” Jarred said. He lifted the radio to his mouth. “Everyone listen up: We’ve got a couple of infiltrators on the loose. Two women. One we know: Kelly Adelaide, short with close-cropped brown hair. The other is Samantha Rinn, abnormally tall and strong. Blond hair.”

Russell ground his teeth together.
Samantha
. She’d spat in his face, and clocked him in front of his men. He rubbed absently at his jaw. Even now, weeks later, it still ached from her blindside punch. He’d let her go, shown leniency, and this was his reward.

“Okay, everyone,” Jarred said, “stay sharp and hold your positions. No one goes anywhere alone, understood?”

“You’re not sending search parties?” Russell asked.

Jarred covered the microphone. “No one knows this place better than Kelly Adelaide. Let her come to us.”

Russell thought it over and gave a stiff nod. He turned to his soldiers, who were standing by. “You,” he said to the only one he recognized, “take three men from each door and get back to the docking bay. I don’t want these bitches anywhere near our supplies.”

The man saluted and began to pick his team.

“It’s time I spoke to Alex directly,” Russell said to Jarred.

He found Alex to be awake and alert.

The infirmary bustled both with wounded and those treating them, making the place ill-suited for talking strategy.

Luckily, Alex had been afforded some privacy. His bed had been pushed to the far corner and a medical curtain erected around it.

“You made it,” Alex said when he saw the leader from Nightcliff push through the fabric wall.

“Brought some friends, too.”

“So I’ve heard.” Alex tapped a small handheld communicator on his bedside table. “Been keeping tabs as best I could.”

“How’s the shoulder?”

“As long as I don’t move, it hurts like hell.”

Russell looked around for a chair and, not finding one, sat on the edge of the bed. “The old man’s tougher than we thought.”

Alex frowned. “I don’t know where he got all these weapons, and people who know how to use them.”

“Sneaky bastard.”

Jarred Larsen stuck his head in through the curtain. “Permission to enter?”

Alex nodded, wincing slightly from the pain of the motion. His second in command stepped through the curtain.

“We finally cut through a door up there,” Jarred said. “They’re gone. Other than a few crude booby-traps, no sign of them. They, uh … they cleaned the place out.”

Alex closed his eyes, his frown growing deeper.

“At least we kept them contained in Section H,” Russell said.

Jarred cleared his throat and kept his attention on Alex. “I don’t think moving beyond Section H was their objective, sir.”

“Explain.”

“They didn’t bring enough men to take control of the station, and frankly, they did break our line on Section G at one point, but did not press.”

“So what the hell were they after?” Russell asked.

Jarred kept his focus on Alex. “ERVs,” he said, then explained for Russell before he could ask: “External repair vehicles.”

Alex asked, “How many did they get?”

“Six in all,” Jarred said to Alex.

Russell chuckled. “Platz is gonna give the station a paint job?”

“What he’s doing,” Jarred said, “is staying a step ahead of us. It’s a smart move, frankly.”

Alex squirmed slightly in his bed, wincing with pain at the move. “He’s building a transportation fleet, since we shut down his climbers.”

“So,” Russell said, “he’s got a few runabouts. What’s the problem?”

“It’s us I’m worried about,” Alex said. “We’ll be vulnerable to the same situation.”

“How?”

“Adelaide,” Jarred said. “And the other.”

Russell began to understand. “You mean sabotage.”

“Yes. Just like we did to him.”

“If they manage to blow up the climber controls,” Russell said, “are we trapped here?”

“Not quite,” Alex said. “There’s a whole graveyard of transport ships at the old dock in Section E. Once the climber system was installed, they became obsolete, but they should still work in a pinch.”

“Christ,” Jarred said. “We need to secure that room. I’ll take care of it.”

He pushed through the privacy curtain, already barking orders into his headset.

“Hardly ideal,” Russell said. “We need to put an end to this, soon.”

“I agree,” said Alex. “I’ll speak with the council—”

“No,” Russell said. “Neil isn’t playing by the rules, so neither should we. You and I are the only two members with power anyway. It’s time we initiated what we discussed.”

Alex closed his eyes, his face tightening. He was in serious pain, Russell realized.

The anguish abated after a moment, and Alex said, “I’m in no condition to lead a counterattack.”

“No problem. I’ll handle it.”

Alex sighed. “I was thinking more of Captain Larsen.”

Here it is then,
Russell thought. Two allies positioning themselves for the aftermath of victory. “Great idea. Besides, I’ve got a different mission to lead,” he said. At Alex’s arched eyebrow, he went on. “I suspect if we attack Platz Station, the goat will just abandon it and move up. We need a bargaining chip. Something precious to him.”

“Anchor.”

“Exactly.” Russell smiled. “I’ll take a few squads in some of these ERVs. We’ll get him sandwiched, cut off in his stupid headquarters. And with his research, not to mention the brainiacs doing it, under our control. He’d have to surrender.”

“Indeed,” Alex said. “Your plan isn’t half bad.”

Gosh, thanks!
“You’ll miss all the fun,” Russell said. “I’ll put a squad together. Who can help get these old boats out of storage?”

“Larsen can point you in the right direction. A couple of my older guards are rated to fly them.”

“Good. Rest up; we’ll deal with this.”

“I’ve got an agent in Anchor Station,” Alex said as Russell turned to leave. “She can help you get set up.”

“Name?”

“Natalie Ammon. Tania Sharma’s assistant.”

Russell cracked a sly grin. “I like the way you think, Alex.”

Without warning, the power went out, plunging the room into blackness.

In the dark, Alex said, “Get going, then. I’ve got a vermin problem to deal with.”

Beyond the curtain, they heard the medical staff scrambling through the dark before emergency power kicked in, bringing a soft green glow to the room.

Chapter Thirty-six

Darwin, Australia

10.FEB.2283

Skyler awoke with a shudder. He jerked upright, tense and confused.

The motion brought fresh pain to his cracked rib. He padded the area with his fingertips and, though it was still unpleasant, he thought the worst had finally passed. If he moved with care, he could live with it.

Prumble sat next to him. Two bowls of steaming noodle soup waited on the carpet by the door. A stick of incense burned in a small brass holder, filling the room with the rich aroma of cinnamon.

“Good morning,” Prumble said.

“How long was I out?”

“Sixteen hours, if you can believe it. The rain has passed.”

“Sixteen? Hell.”

“You woke once,” Prumble said, “for a sip of water. And promptly fell asleep again.”

Skyler sat up and grunted. He leaned against the wall and flexed the stiffness from his arms and legs. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and scratched at the stubble on his face. “Did you salvage anything from your garage?”

Prumble cracked a sardonic grin. “They didn’t quite wipe me out. Something you need?”

“How about a new plane and the crew to man it?”

The fat man’s grin half-faded. “Fresh out, I’m afraid.”

“Your sat-comm, the one Neil Platz gave you?”

The grin disappeared entirely. “Blackfield took it.”

“I’ll settle for a razor,” Skyler said, scratching at the stubble on his neck.

“You’re in luck.”

“That’s a start then.”

Prumble handed him a bowl of soup and began to slurp from the other.

Skyler set his aside, and leaned against the wall once more. He closed his eyes for a moment, then stared at the ceiling.

Prumble waited, lifting the clay bowl to his mouth and shoveling in hot noodles with a pair of well-worn chopsticks. “For my money, Skyler, the great ramen heist you and Skadz pulled off … when was that?”

Skyler held up three fingers.

“Three years ago,” Prumble went on, “is never to be topped.”

“That’s why it’s called ‘Top Ramen.’”

The fat man groaned at the lame joke, then chuckled between mouthfuls.

“Everything we worked for is gone,” Skyler said. To his own ear, his voice sounded distant and hoarse.

“I am well aware.”

“What will you do now?”

Prumble sighed. “Retire, I suspect. Buy this place if I can. Or barter my way into a rooftop commune. We know one that owes us a debt of gratitude, don’t we? That finger you brought back? It matched, by the way. They were very pleased. Yes, I could call upon them. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t eat much!’” He fell into a hearty laugh, hugging his massive belly.

Skyler studied his old friend. “No thirst for revenge?”

The big man grinned. “I said ‘enjoy,’ did I not? Revenge means stewing over the past, and that doesn’t agree with me. You could join me in retirement, you know.”

“Someday, maybe. Turns out I still have a job to do.”

“Oh? Do tell.”

Skyler explained the meeting with Platz and the mission to investigate the Aura generator. He also recounted the tale of his escape from Gateway, and subsequent crash-landing in Gunn. How the subhumans had chased him into the basement of a medical office building, a basement that turned out to be a veterinary clinic, a stroke of incredible luck amid such terrible events. He’d passed out there, awoken hours later, and paused only long enough to bandage his wounds. Lastly, Skyler told of the misery of his hike back to Darwin, the only bright spot being his discovery of a long-abandoned police van, parked in front of a wealthy enclave, in which van he’d found a few precious clips of ammunition that fit his weapon. Prumble listened intently, asking only a few questions.

Skyler’s hunger finally won out and he picked up his bowl. The room fell quiet as both men ate.

“I’ve heard interesting rumors around here,” Prumble said. “Blackfield elected to the Orbital Council, Platz resigning in protest.”

Skyler paused, mid-bite. Nothing good could come from an expanded power base for Russell Blackfield. The phrasing Neil Platz had chosen, about leaders and fighters, came to mind. “The old man won’t go quietly,” Skyler said.

“It’s said that Nightcliff is sending climbers full of troops up the ladder.”

“I saw them, on the way here. Looked like a strand of pearls.”

Prumble studied his friend. “What are you planning to do, Skyler?”

“I need a way into Nightcliff. Platz said the entrance to this generator is below the old mansion.”

“Seems like a fool’s errand,” Prumble said. “No offense.”

“None taken.”

“And after that? You have no way to deliver him your findings.”

Skyler leaned forward. He set the empty bowl aside. “I need to get to orbit, then. Back to Gateway, at least. I can send him his bloody information, then find out what happened to the crew. If necessary, offer myself in exchange for their freedom.”

Prumble coughed. “Nothing so ambitious as a garden commune, then.”

Skyler shrugged. “I’ve got nothing left here. Can’t imagine rebuilding, and I can’t shake the feeling that I left my people behind up there.”

“The Aura is more important,” Prumble said. “You did what you had to do.”

“And with such success,” Skyler said. “The idea was to save the ship. Made a fine mess of that. Once again, my leadership shines.”

“Better to have stayed? Wound up dead or in jail?”