Ancient's War 01 - Shadow Run Page 6

  “Fleet pilots with my security experience?”

  “Hang the security experience. That is not the only reason you were chosen.”

  “The testing you mentioned in Admiral Renford’s office?”

  “The abilities you were tested for are essential, but you’re not the only one possessing those abilities.”

  “Exactly what was I tested for?”

  “You will learn that in good time, as well.”

  And now anger began to boil within her. She took a deep breath, then said, “Look, you’re going to have to start leveling with me—”

  “I don’t have to do anything. You will be told what I want you to know, when I want you to know it. Is that clear?”

  “But—”

  “You don’t seem to understand, Captain. We will find someone else if we have to. It would be difficult to replace you, but certainly not impossible.”

  Susan didn’t say another word. Instead, she stood with her hands on her hips, glaring at the Survey Service Director.

  “Do you wish to pilot this mission,” Hyatt asked after a few seconds, “or don’t you?”

  He knew her record. He knew she would do anything to get back into deep space. This was perhaps her last chance to prove herself—not only to Fleet, but to herself as well. She could answer that question only one way.

  “Yes,” she said without hesitation, “I want to pilot your ship.”

  Chapter Nine

  Of course I’ll take the assignment, she thought as she hurried down the corridor toward her quarters. There had never been any question of that. This was the chance she had been waiting ten years for—a way back into deep space—and there was no way she could possibly turn it down.

  But Hyatt wasn’t telling her the entire story. For some reason—probably something to do with retaining General Fund money—he was feeding her information only a little at a time. She did know that there was a sister ship, and that it hadn’t been heard from in nearly a year. She assumed her assignment would be to rescue Tachyon, but she didn’t know the mission’s destination.

  She forced those thoughts down as she approached her quarters, and a sudden anxiety filled her mind. Someone waited in her rooms; her strange ability subtly told her as much.

  Stopping just beyond the spore-lock’s sensor range, she listened intently for the sound of breathing or a muffled thump, but there was nothing quite so obvious. Only the vague mental hint that someone waited on the other side of the door.

  Could she trust that feeling? The last time she had been in danger—in the corridor outside the curio shop on Fleet Base—the ability had not worked for her. It had not warned her of the attack. Could it be working opposite now, telling her there was someone there when there was not?

  She had no choice; she had to act as if there was someone in her rooms. She knew she should turn around, go find a member of the Luna City police force. Yet, by the time she returned with help, her unseen assailant would surely be gone. Whoever was in her rooms could simply wait for another opportunity to catch her alone. If she went in now, at least she would know what to expect.

  Besides, she was certain she knew who it was: that all too seedy-looking civilian who had been watching her on the floater out from Fleet Base. And no matter how good he might be, she was certain she was better. This was something she should be able to handle.

  The spore-lock responded to her presence as she stepped within its sensor field, and the door irised open. She entered and stepped quickly to her left, out of the shaft of light stabbing into the room. Flattening herself against the wall beside the door, she scanned the narrow slice of room bathed in light before the door irised closed and the room fell into total darkness.

  The light should have fallen on the chair that had sat in the center of the room when she’d left for the briefing, but the chair was gone. Whoever waited for her had moved it from where the light would fall on it, and into the shadows. Even now he might be sitting there, holding a weapon on her.

  She doubted sufficient light had entered the room to spoil the other’s dark- adapted vision. The light had not fallen on him directly, so in the dark his eyes had to be better off than her own. Her best chance lay in having the lights on; he would be partially blinded for at least a few seconds.

  But to get to the light switch she would have to step in front of the door, crossing into its sensing field. It would iris open and she would be silhouetted for an instant in the glare from the corridor before the apartment’s lights came on. For that brief instant, she would be an easy target.

  Still, it was her only chance. Taking a deep breath, she held it, then tensed to spring.

  Chapter Ten

  The lights flared on.

  “Hold it right there!” a voice barked, and instinctively Susan went into a defensive crouch. She squinted in the bright light, but could make out only a vague shape.

  Her eyes adapted quickly, and she began to see detail. The other wore dark glasses against the light. One beefy hand still covered the light switch, while the other held a formidable-looking blaster aimed at her.

  Muscles tensed as she again prepared to spring. She knew she didn’t stand a chance, but she couldn’t just stand there and let him burn her down. If she was going to die, she would do her best to take her attacker out with her.

  “I wouldn’t try it,” he said. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I am prepared to defend myself.”

  Something in what he said stopped her. “What do you mean, you don’t want to hurt me? Isn’t that why you’re here—to kill me?”

  “No.” The man shifted the weapon’s barrel slightly to the right, off Susan. “I’m with Fleet—on a special security assignment.”

  “How am I supposed to know that?”

  “I’m afraid you’ll have to take my word for it. After all, I could have killed you the moment you stepped through that door, but I didn’t.”

  That was true enough. Susan relaxed her stance a bit. “Okay, I’ll grant you might be with Fleet. But what are you doing in my rooms?”

  “I’m here to protect you, Captain.”

  “I can take care of myself.” Now that there might be someone, she found she didn’t want the help. Especially the way he had accomplished it—breaking into her rooms.

  “Perhaps you can,” the fat man said. “But I’ve been assigned to keep an eye on you, all the same.”

  They were both silent for a few seconds. Finally, Susan asked, “What should I call you?”

  “Clayton. Alan Clayton.”

  “Your real name?”

  “Of course not.”

  Susan nodded.

  “I understand the man who attacked you back on Fleet Base was a belter,” Clayton said as he tucked the blaster out of sight, into the folds of his soiled jumpsuit.

  “That’s right. A member of the Society.”

  “Why would a belter be after you?”

  Susan shrugged. “The line of work I’m in?”

  “That’s possible. Or maybe it could have something to do with Aldebaran. He might have lost someone there.” Clayton had done his homework.

  “It’s possible,” Susan said. “But how did he get into my quarters?”

  “A spore-lock scrambler was reported missing from the Base Security armory three days ago. I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if both a Security uniform and a stun pistol are missing as well, although neither has been reported yet.”

  “Is that how you got in here?”

  Clayton nodded. He pulled a chrome tube measuring six inches long and a quarter inch in diameter from a fold in his jumpsuit, then quickly replaced it.

  “Then you believe me?” Susan tried to keep the excitement out of her voice, without success.

  “I believe you were attacked. There’s undeniable evidence for that.”

  “What evidence?” Susan asked.

  “First, there’s the stolen scrambler. And Base Security found traces of raglon oil on the bathroom floor.” To all but those who ha
d spent considerable time in the asteroid belts, raglon oil was a lethal poison. Certain trace elements found only in the asteroids not only neutralized its poison, but made it an extremely reliable sun- screen. Those who lived and worked in the belts assimilated the protective elements into their tissues.

  “But you don’t believe my attacker disappeared into thin air.”

  “I can’t pass judgement on that.”

  Neither spoke for several seconds. When the silence became unbearable, Susan said, “There’s another one after me. He has already tried once.”

  “Someone else tried to kill you? When?”

  She told him about the attempt made on her life as she left the curio shop back on Fleet Base, but said nothing about her assailant’s sudden disappearance, or how the crowd had thinned. And she didn’t mention the inexplicable time discrepancies, either; she knew he would not believe her. Without elaborating, she told him simply that her assailant had escaped.

  “Why didn’t you report the attack to Base Security?” Clayton demanded.

  “I guess I just didn’t have time in all the rush of packing.” Even to Susan that sounded lame, but she could think of nothing else to say—nothing he might believe.

  Clayton stroked his beard and scowled from beneath bushy eyebrows. “Listen, Captain, you’re going to have to start leveling with me if I’m to be of any help. You’re saying an attempt was made on your life, and you failed to report it because you were too busy?”

  “Yes.” Susan put as much authority as she could muster into that single word.

  “I don’t believe it. In fact, I don’t believe you could have let him escape in the first place. I know your background. I know what you’re capable of. You would never have let someone who tried to kill you escape. Not twice—not even once. Either you would be dead, or your attacker would be. And if he did somehow manage to get away, you certainly would have reported it.”

  What could she tell him? What would he believe? She could think of no fabrication that might work, so she told the truth. The whole truth.

  “That’s an incredible story,” Clayton said when she had finished.

  “I didn’t think you’d believe me.”

  “I didn’t say I don’t believe you. I simply said it’s an incredible story. And you have to know it is. You don’t want to change any of it, do you? Make it a bit easier to digest?”

  “I wish I could, but that’s exactly the way it happened.”

  “You checked your LIN/C, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  “And?”

  “It agrees with what I remember.”

  Clayton shook his head. “Let me see that pendant.”

  Susan went to the closet and removed the pendant from the small personal effects drawer located at its back. Then she returned to Clayton and held it up between them.

  “You haven’t worn it since?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “Maybe you’d better. It seems to have saved your life, although I’ll be damned if I know how. And right now you need all the help you can get, whether you’ll admit it or not.”

  They were silent for a few seconds. Susan slipped the pendant out of sight, into a pouch at her waist. Finally, Clayton broke the silence.

  “I’ll have your story checked. Someone else must have felt that change in atmospheric pressure, or noticed something out of the ordinary. Meanwhile, go about your business as if nothing has happened.”

  “Something is happening. Someone is trying to kill me!”

  “I know.” He stepped to the door and it irised open. “But getting excited about it won’t help. Just go about your normal routine, and give them the chance they want. I’ll be there to take them out when they make their move.”

  “What if you don’t get them?” Susan asked. “What if they get me first?”

  “I won’t let that happen. Although you won’t see me, I’ll be near.” Clayton hesitated, then asked, “By the way, what are you doing here in Luna City?”

  “I’m on loan to the Survey Service.”

  “That much I already know. What’s the assignment.”

  Susan shook her head. “I can’t tell you that.”

  “Look, I’m going to find out anyway. And the sooner I know everything you know, the better I’m going to be able to protect you.”

  “I’m sorry, but I have a job to do, too. And, like yours, it involves maintaining strict security. Besides, I really don’t know anything yet myself.”

  Clayton didn’t answer for a long moment. When he finally did, he said simply, “I understand.” He turned and stepped out into the corridor, then walked away without another word. The door irised closed behind him.

  Susan stood still, staring at the door. Clayton might be right, she may need all the help she could get. She didn’t understand any of what was happening to her.

  And he might be right about the pendant, too.

  She took it from the pouch at her waist and examined it, holding it by its chain. It looked so dull, so cold, so totally lifeless. Could it have been somehow responsible for her attacker’s disappearance outside the curio shop on Fleet Base?

  She didn’t know. Still, like Clayton had said, if it had saved her life once, it might do so again. But only if she wore it.

  Putting the chain around her neck, she tucked the small lump of gray metal into her jumpsuit.

  Chapter Eleven

  Bill Darcy arrived a few minutes before eighteen-thirty. A year younger than Susan, he stood six feet tall and sported light brown hair with hints of red and gray at the temples. The lower half of his face was hidden beneath a full growth of beard. He wore a light green casual jumpsuit.

  “You’re looking good,” Susan said as she let him in.

  “A bit grayer,” he responded, “but I do feel good.” He looked her up and down. She wore her own variation on the latest Earth-side female evening attire: a few strategically placed patches of silver lace and a complete iridescent body-paint job. The pendant hung between her breasts from its chain.

  “You haven’t changed,” Darcy said. “In fact, you actually look younger than the last time I saw you.”

  “You always were a charmer.” He smiled, and Susan gently squeezed his upper arm. “You don’t think I might be exposing too much for Luna City, do you?”

  “Without a doubt, but I like it.”

  “Then I won’t change.”

  His smile broadened and Susan reached out, stepping into his arms. They kissed warmly as the door irised closed.

  “What would you like for dinner?” he asked.

  “Italian.”

  “That’s what I like about you. You always know exactly what you want.”

  “And I usually get it,” Susan joked. “Right now, I can think of nothing I want more than to be with you.”

  Darcy beamed. “There’s a nice Italian restaurant a short walk from the theater. We’ll have to hurry, though—the ballet begins at twenty hundred hours sharp.”

  They left the apartment arm in arm. A few steps down the corridor, Susan asked, “How’s your brother?”

  Darcy looked questioningly into Susan’s eyes. “You know Sam is dead.”

  She stopped, then turned to face the man. “No, I didn’t know. When did it happen?”

  “Susan, you know Sam died five years ago, in that mining accident out in the asteroids. What’s wrong with you?”

  “I don’t know. Sam isn’t Luna City’s mayor?”

  Darcy shook his head in disbelief. “Like I said, he’s dead. I’ve been mayor here for the past six years. But you know that.”

  Then the From line of the script message had been right.

  But what of her memories? She remembered Sam Darcy as mayor of Luna City, and Bill as a councilman. She remembered Sam alive and married; three years ago she had visited him and his wife here in Luna City. And only a couple weeks ago she’d watched him deliver a speech on a holo-vid broadcast beamed Earth-side.

  Yet Bill had just
said his brother died five years ago. Why would he lie?

  The answer was obvious—he wouldn’t.

  There was the same feeling to this there had been during that incident in the corridor outside the curio shop. The same uneasiness filled Susan’s thoughts now as had then. She would have to check her memories against those stored in her LIN/C, but she was certain they would match.

  “Maybe we’d better not go out tonight,” Darcy said, scattering her thoughts. “You should get some sleep.”

  “I’ll be fine. I want to be with you.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Positive. We haven’t seen each other in such a long time.”

  Darcy nodded, and they continued down the corridor, Susan leaning on his arm a bit more than necessary. She felt suddenly weak and vulnerable.

  Less than fifteen minutes later, they sat talking quietly in a booth at the back of the restaurant, becoming re-acquainted. Most of what Susan told Darcy about her life since they had last met she fabricated on the spot.

  When the waiter arrived to take their order, Darcy asked for a good vintage Earth wine. The waiter told him he could no longer serve wines imported from Earth.

  “But I was in here only last week, and I was served an Earth wine.” To Susan, he said, “As Luna City’s mayor, I shouldn’t admit this, but it is much better than the wines produced here on Luna.”

  “I agree, Mr. Mayor,” the waiter said, “but we can no longer get it. The ban on Earth wines came down from D. I. only three days ago.”

  Darcy frowned. “Very well,” he said, but Susan could tell from the tone of his voice that it was not very well. “Bring a bottle of your best Luna City red.”

  The waiter nodded and left.

  “What was that all about?” Susan asked.

  “Hyatt’s pushing for independence again.”

  “Can he do it this time?”

  Darcy shrugged. “He has more of a following than he did last year at this time, thanks to completion of the solar power satellite. It makes us more self-sufficient than ever before.”