The Ninth Circle (50 page)
Authors: R. M. Meluch
TR Steele stalked away from camp in the night blackness while the others slept in their cages in a stand of trees that kept them from rolling anywhere.
Carly was the sentry this watch. She let him pass.
She let someone else pass too, dammit. He’d crossed the perimeter to be alone.
Snapping twigs and that voice sounded behind him. “You mad at me, Thomas?”
He snarled at her in a whisper without turning around, “You were underwater, and I couldn’t breathe!”
He brought his fist to his chest. Felt all locked up in there. “
I
fucking told you to get in the fucking cage. I put you in there!
I
did! Dammit, Blue, I can’t protect you!”
I
fucking told you to get in the fucking cage. I put you in there!
I
did! Dammit, Blue, I can’t protect you!”
“Hoo bloody ra,” said Kerry Blue.
Very philosophical she-man, his Kerry Blue.
He seized her and kissed her hard. Her lips were cold and rubbery under his. He tried to press warmth back into them. Her clammy fingers held the back of his head.
I can’t lose her.
He couldn’t protect her either. She was a Marine.
Hoo bloody ra.
After two days that lasted forever, Glenn stole away from the LEN encampment. Her mouth felt as if it were full of nettles as she crossed the dirt perimeter behind the storage huts.
The defensive dome that the pirates had energized over the LEN camp did not extend down to ground level, so she was able to walk out. The pirates were not guarding against walkaways. They had confiscated all the displacement equipment and had jammers going, so attempting displacement would be fatal.
The pirates weren’t worried about escapees, because there was always the hanging threat, if one person torqed them off, the pirates could execute nine or ten of his friends.
Everyone was taking great care not to upset The Ninth Circle—even Director Benet.
Glenn moved at a casual walk. She picked wildflowers for the first hundred yards into the forest, as if that were what she’d come out here to do.
She was taking an enormous risk. It seemed safer than doing nothing.
Beef cows did nothing.
She moved slowly not to set off any of the woodland sentinels. Those blue things had calls like crows.
She stopped, crouched down, waited, and listened, in case she was followed.
She continued by starts and stops. Even when she made it two klicks out, she was still afraid to breathe.
She found the
Spring Beauty
.
Spring Beauty
.
The forest had recovered quickly. If she hadn’t known, Glenn couldn’t tell that there had been a fire here. The tree trunks, scarred from the falling wreckage, had healed over. Vines had grown over the fuselage, and something was nesting in the life craft.
She climbed carefully over weeds and bits of wreckage to get to the ship, and crept inside.
There was a chance that the pirates hadn’t secured
Spring Beauty
’s res chamber. She wasn’t sure if the pirates even knew the
Beauty
was out here.
Spring Beauty
’s res chamber. She wasn’t sure if the pirates even knew the
Beauty
was out here.
A scatter of animal droppings pelleted the control room deck. Something was cocooned in the copilot’s seat. Blunt shards from the shattered viewscreen lay strewn across the deck. Panels from the overhead had dropped. Glenn moved them aside to uncover the res chamber. She cringed with every loud metallic creak. Her hands shook with her pulse.
The res chamber was gone.
Dammit. They took it
.
.
They knew this ship was here. She had to get out of here. Now.
Then remembered. Of course the res chamber was gone. She felt incredibly dim. Incredibly relieved. She herself had pulled that res chamber out of the console to take Admiral Farragut on a visual tour around the shipwreck.
She found the res chamber where she’d left it, stowed in a corner aft of the control room. A stretch of the overhead had buckled in since then. She had to climb under that to get at the res chamber. The chamber was wedged in between panels, but it looked intact. She reached in. Touched the control.
Held her breath.
The unit powered on.
Glenn fed in the harmonic. She hoped the Navy hadn’t changed codes since she’d gone on leave. She whispered, “
Merrimack. Merrimack. Merrimack
. This is Glenn Hamilton.”
Merrimack. Merrimack. Merrimack
. This is Glenn Hamilton.”
Waited. Nothing.
She didn’t know the current code words. “Gordon? Red?” she called the com techs by name. “It’s Glenn Hamilton.” She made sure her face was on camera.
She imagined the crew on the command deck were trying to determine her authenticity.
Finally a voice answered without video. “Lieutenant?”
The voice of Calli Carmel.
“Captain!” Glenn whispered a shout. “Pirates have taken over the LEN expedition camp. I’m in the
Spring Beauty
, a few klicks outside camp.”
Spring Beauty
, a few klicks outside camp.”
“Is this a hostage situation?”
“We’re not locked up, but yes, I’d say we were hostages. Except I don’t know what they want. They killed one man. John did.”
“John John?”
It shouldn’t have shocked her that Calli already knew John Farragut, Junior, was here. “Yes, sir. He’s—” Glenn didn’t know how to describe what happened to him.
“Is John John a CIA operative?” asked Calli.
Glenn’s voice stopped up entirely. Not a question she ever expected. She recovered. “I don’t
think
so. He’s mad as a cut snake. The pirates know that you are up there.”
think
so. He’s mad as a cut snake. The pirates know that you are up there.”
“Yes. We met,” said Calli.
Glenn guessed there had been some shooting involved.
Calli said, “Lieutenant, do you know who you’ve got there?”
“I—” thought she did. “Guess I don’t.”
“These pirates call themselves The Ninth Circle. So far as we know, everyone who has ever seen them is dead. They’re not shooters, so don’t rely on a personal field for protection. They use blades or garrotes. John Junior goes for the heart. The others are cutthroats.”
“John can take out a throat too,” said Glenn. “I saw that for myself. He calls himself Nox.”
“What are their numbers?”
“Seven.”
“You mean John plus seven,” said Calli.
“No. Seven total.”
“A Roman
contubernium
is eight,” said Calli. “These men used to be a tent party. Where’s the eighth?”
contubernium
is eight,” said Calli. “These men used to be a tent party. Where’s the eighth?”
“They haven’t mentioned anyone else.”
“There has to be one.”
“Maybe he’s dead?” said Glenn.
“That could be, but, to be safe, assume there is an outlier. Probably left guarding the Xerxes.”
“Say again, sir. Guarding the
what?
”
what?
”
“Your pirates hijacked a Xerxes class transport on a planet named Phoenix. They’re smart, they’re vicious, they’re trained, and they have nothing to lose. Find where they parked their ship. It will be under extreme stealth. I have a map of your expedition camp here. Where do the pirates stay?”
Merrimack
’s video turned on and presented the camp layout toward the resonator.
Merrimack
’s video turned on and presented the camp layout toward the resonator.
Glenn was able to point out the pirates’ tent. “They all spend the night there. But sooner or later you’re going to find one in Dr. Nooan’s tent instead.” There was some heavy flirtation and Stockholm Syndrome happening between Dr. Ilsa Nooan and the big sybaritic one named Faunus.
Far removed from civilization, mating behaviors change, and well-educated civilized women go for the biggest savage in the pack.
“Nooan’s tent is the singleton on the east side, closest to the fire pit.”
“Do the pirates post sentries?”
“No. They count on intimidation to keep us in line. They’re probably counting on our presence to keep you from blowing the site away. They have a dome up.”
“We’ve seen that.”
“We’re accessible on ground level. The pirates are tall, and they don’t duck to get outside.”
“How often do they leave the dome?”
“Random times. Never all together.”
“Do they bring anything back from their ship?”
“No. They’re never gone very long. They wear personal fields. They do what they want. They graze like sacred cows.”
“How did they arrive? Did they displace in?”
“They came on foot. I didn’t hear displacement.”
Displacement was loud.
“Outstanding,” said Calli.
That narrowed the search radius. It meant the pirated Xerxes was within hiking distance of the LEN camp.
“You realize I didn’t actually revoke your commission, Lieutenant,” Calli said.
“Yes, sir. I guessed that.” Glenn had fervently hoped that. But at the time she’d really thought she had been pushed down a mineshaft.
Calli had only done it to give her an excuse to leave Glenn in place over LEN objections.
“Get close to John John,” Calli ordered. “Find where they left the Xerxes and how many men are in it. There has to be an eighth man. Failing that, keep the pirates in place. Call in when you can.”
“Aye, aye, sir.”
Calli’s audio and video ceased.
Glenn turned off the resonator.
So Captain Carmel was sending in the Marines. Glenn knew that from what the captain had asked. And from what she hadn’t said. With Glenn a hostage, it was best to tell her as little as possible.
Glenn crawled back out from under the collapsed overhead. She dragged a charred seat cushion in front of the gap to mask the resonator from view should anyone look down there. She left no footprints as she moved forward to the exit.
Stopped in the hatchway.
Bones and feathers braided into blond hair. Red, blue, and yellow scars on his face. Nox stood on the ramp. A rusted machete in his hand.
28
“H
AMSTER.”
AMSTER.”
Glenn felt as if her mouth were full of pins. Her face drained of blood. She eyed the machete. Its cutting edge was nicked and scored from heavy use. Every blink brought back images of Poul Vrba, dying.
Nox said, “You’re the Hamster.”
Captain John Farragut had given Glenn Hamilton the nickname. Glenn wanted to lie. Knew she couldn’t pull it off.
“Small universe,” Glenn spoke without voice.
“The universe is infinitely vast, but the paths of human travel in it are as narrow as ant trails,” said Nox, sounding bizarrely cultured.
Glenn came down a degree from blind panic. Nox hadn’t overheard her reporting him to
Merrimack
.
Merrimack
.
Hamster. He knew she was the Hamster.
The “Hamster” name hadn’t gone away even after Admiral Farragut left
Merrimack
. The name was thoroughly stuck to her. She had a petite build and delicate features that made her seem smaller, a command presence to chase lions down the stairs. Even
Mack
’s new XO—who had assumed the position Glenn considered rightfully hers—called her “Iron Hamster.”
Merrimack
. The name was thoroughly stuck to her. She had a petite build and delicate features that made her seem smaller, a command presence to chase lions down the stairs. Even
Mack
’s new XO—who had assumed the position Glenn considered rightfully hers—called her “Iron Hamster.”
Nox took a step toward her. Glenn was afraid she flinched. She regarded him warily. Wished she didn’t need to look
up
to face him when he arrived at the top of the ramp.
up
to face him when he arrived at the top of the ramp.
“Don’t be afraid of me,” said Nox.
“Why not?” said Glenn.
He had a machete.
“That back there?” Nox said, gestured with the rusty blade toward camp. “That man? I was only as brutal as that man was stupid. You’re not stupid.”
Nox brushed past her in the hatchway to board the shipwreck. He strode to the control room console and moved away clutter to uncover the empty place where the res chamber should have been.
Glenn said, “My presence here won’t give you any influence with the
Merrimack
.”
Merrimack
.”
“Okay, maybe you’re a little bit stupid,” said Nox. He prowled through the debris, threw sheets of metal aside.
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