Inquisitor (11 page)

Angel glanced at the box. It stood there, black and inscrutable. Squeezing between it and the wall, she found the locker and opened it. Standard-issue locker for security forces traveling inside a rail car with valuable research trying to escape a planet, she supposed. Inside were four black impact suits with outdated displays on the wrists. It seemed Mercurial Logic cut corners on expenses; the suits had to be at least twenty years old.

[They’ll suffice. Once we reach the spaceport, the ride will get a little… bumpy.]

“They’d better. And ‘suffice’? What sort of books have you been reading?” She took a suit out and began slipping it on.

[Whatever they gave me. Classics, fine literature, fairy tales. Not much variety, I’m afraid. I loved the fairy tales the best.]

Angel grunted. She secured the final tab of the suit, and after a moment it shrank to her size. She hesitated then tucked her hair inside at the back and pulled on the hood, which stuck to her head like an octopus’s suckers. She shuddered at the sensation. Below the suits were four helmets, and she took one out and put it on. Dim lights flickered briefly as the suit powered up; then a basic HUD readout appeared to the left of her vision. A waft of cool air brushed against her face as the suit’s environmental system kicked in. It smelled of plastic and solvents. The suit hadn’t gone through regular yearly maintenance, she surmised.

Thirty-seven percent charge. She tapped the helmet, but the number remained steady.
Someone at Mercurial needs firing
, she thought. And she couldn’t access her hand-cannon with the suit covering it, either.

“Right. It’s about time you told me the rest of your plan. I’ve trusted you this far. It’s time for you to trust me. From now on, I want to know what to expect.”

It’s about time,
Angel admonished herself,
that you admit she’s not merely a little girl. Whatever she is.

[Mercurial Logic put you in this position, not me. They ruined your name then attempted to kill you so you couldn’t argue your case. Without me, you wouldn’t be alive.]

Charlotte’s tone was hard.

“You know everything about me, but I know almost nothing about you or what else you’ve done to secure your escape.”

[Are you implying everything that’s happened is part of my plan?]

Maybe
. She didn’t know what was more probable at the moment. There were a lot of coincidences piling up. Growing up, one of Angel’s minders had always said there were no coincidences, only the illusion of coincidence.

“Is it?”

[Please, Angel, believe me when I say I only want to escape and leave Mercurial Logic and their experiments behind, and I want what’s best for you. Without you… I’d still be their prisoner. I owe you a great debt.]

“Just get me out of this alive.”

[I aim to. Could you squeeze between the wall and my box again, please, and stay there. The cramped space will prevent you from… flying around too much when we hit the spaceport.]

“I’m still waiting to hear your plan.”

[Yes, of course. By now, Mercurial Logic security will have decided this is a cunning theft. They won’t know I’m on board the train, as according to their systems I’m still safe and sound inside the research facility.]

“Nice trick.” Angel squirmed her way between the box and wall, and without her triggering anything, her suit expanded to fill the space, jamming her tight. “I assume you did that?”

[Yes. Sorry, I should have warned you. So… the mag-lev track will be blocked at the wall of the spaceport, and the train’s automatic systems will detect the barricade and slow to a stop, allowing Mercurial’s security to protect the train and its cargo.]

A vision of the midnight black ball covered with hexagons appeared in Angel’s mind. If she could have moved her arms, she would have rubbed her eyes. “Except the train isn’t going to stop, is it?”

[No.]

As Charlotte replied, the car jerked slightly.

[That was the front car, the engine, if you will. It has detached and will accelerate away from us as we cruise along behind it. It should penetrate the spaceport barrier and create a hole for us to go through.]

Angel narrowed her eyes. “You left out the part about the bomb, which I assume is needed because the barrier is quite strong. I wouldn’t think they’d build one that couldn’t stop the train.”

[Ah… yes. You’re right. I didn’t want to worry you—]

“Please don’t hide things from me. It’s my life, too.”

[I’m… sorry. I truly am. I’ve spent so long alone… keeping things to myself, lying to those around me.]

Charlotte sounded miserable; she must have been under a lot of stress. Angel attempted to wave a hand to show her it was nothing, but it didn’t move. “It’s all right. Just don’t do it again. Friends don’t lie to each other.”

[I won’t.]

“Good. Now, what about the mag-lev track? The bomb—”

[I’m afraid there’s no time to explain. Brace yourself for impact.]

Angel tensed, pushing her arms and legs against the box, and her back against the wall. She closed her eyes.

A deep rumbling sounded in the distance. Quite the achievement to be heard through the armored train car. Both the wall behind her and the box shook, then began vibrating, a little at first, gradually strengthening. The car shuddered. Angel wished she could see out the window. The interior of the car flooded with light: white, yellow, and orange flickering brightness—a pattern she knew well from her mercenary days.

The car shook violently, jerking her around, and she almost vomited, swallowing as her mouth suddenly filled with saliva. There was a screech of twisting metal and another savage shudder. The light cut out, leaving her in semidarkness.

Angel took a breath. “Well, that wasn’t too—”

All the windows shattered, spraying shards of glass around the car. Howling wind entered through the openings. Underneath the gale, shots cracked, and explosions rent the air. Her stomach rose as the car plummeted. It slammed into something, and her body jerked as their speed was drastically reduced. Without the suit, her neck would probably have snapped. There was a screeching, grinding noise as they rumbled along. Angel determined they were probably not on the track anymore but scraping across plascrete. The car filled with fine dust and careened to the side. Then, with a final jerk, it stopped.

[Angel, are you all right?] Concern tinged Charlotte’s voice, and Angel bit down on a choice response not fit for the ears of little girls. She tried to move, but the suit still had her wedged tight.

“I’m fine. But stuck. Just get me out of here.”

[In a moment. Help is arriving.]

Another flashing orange light beamed through the dusty air of the car. With a hiss, the side door unlocked and slid open.

Angel groaned with frustration. She couldn’t see what was happening from where she was. There were multiple clanks; then the box shifted. Then she was free as it was lifted out of the car. Behind it, an automated cargo mover stood, orange light flashing.

[Out you get. Jump on the mover. Quickly, please.]

“Well, I’m not staying here.” Angel scrabbled up the floor of the car, which was tilted at an angle. She slipped a few times, as the dust made the surface slick. She grasped the edge of the floor, and she hauled herself out, crouching on the lip. The cargo mover was only a meter away, and it had a flat roof. Good enough. She leapt across, landing lightly, and paused there, breathing heavily.

Behind them, there was a long scar in the concrete of the spaceport, leading all the way to the barrier that surrounded the facility. In the wall was a large hole covered in scorch marks, bleeding smoke and surrounded by rubble. Beyond the wall, beams of white light prowled around, and in the distance Angel could see aircraft approaching.

[Perfect!]

Angel wobbled as the cargo mover trundled across the concrete. A short distance away was the fat body of a general cargo vehicle, their evacuation freighter, the
Endurance
, she presumed. As they approached, one of its smaller ramps descended from its side—with more orange warning lights.

The mover hauled them onto the ramp with a bump, and they entered a massive cargo hold. Various containers of different sizes were already stowed, and the mover aimed at a vacant securing space, where it deposited Charlotte’s prison. Without being asked, Angel bounded off the mover and climbed atop the box.

“What now?”

The mover reversed back down the ramp and disappeared outside the freighter.

[Go to the bridge. We have clearance to leave, but I’m not sure how long it will take them to have it revoked.]

Angel jumped down, looked around for the elevator, and ran toward it. Once inside, she was finally able to take a few breaths and rub her eyes. Music from a local band piped into the elevator, and she sighed at the tacky normality, so at odds with her situation.

The doors opened, and she raced along the corridor. At the end, thick blast doors cycled open to reveal the bridge. Angel made for the pilot’s chair, strapped herself in, and ran her eyes over the controls and readouts. It had been a while since she’d piloted anything, but she was sure it would come back to her.

[I don’t want to rush you, but…]

“This isn’t like riding a bike.”

[I wouldn’t know.]

Angel clenched her teeth. Slowly, then with increasing confidence, she pushed some buttons and shifted a few levers. She tried to press the master switch, but it didn’t budge.

“Confirm access code,” a voice asked over the now humming spacecraft.

To Angel’s surprise, Charlotte answered, her voice emanating from the same speakers. “R-U-M-4-2-J.”

“Confirmed.”

The master switch moved under Angel’s touch and clicked into the active position. She pressed more buttons. “How much ship access do you have?”

[Not much. Some basic systems. Hardly anything, really. I’m almost blind.]

Angel smiled. “Just as well you have me here, then.” She brought up the launch display and went through the emergency hard launch procedure. There wasn’t time to go through all the standard checks. Satisfied all was well, she entered them into the spaceport queue. They were slotted a path. Time to launch: twenty-seven minutes. Damn it. They couldn’t hang around on the ground that long.

There was only one thing to do. Angel triggered a crisis launch.

Immediately, the launch countdown timer flashed red and decreased to forty-three seconds as a new launch window was calculated. There’d be hell to pay if this were a regular cargo freighter and she’d triggered a crisis launch without verifiable cause. Fines that would bankrupt her and possibly a prison sentence. But it wasn’t like she planned to come back; she had bigger things to worry about than spending time in prison. Like not getting killed, for one.

“Crisis launch in thirty seconds,” announced the ship. “Expect maximum g-force.”

“No shit,” muttered Angel.

[Good work. Now just tell the ship you’re in an impact suit. It won’t accept the command except from the human pilot.]

Angel’s stomach twisted. “I… yeah… all right.”

“Crisis launch in twenty seconds.”

“Ship, all occupants are wearing impact suits, type… er…”

[Mercurial Logic Human Containment Unit N-O-F-836]

“Mercurial Logic Human Containment Unit N-O-F-836.”

“Suit scanned and confirmed. Crisis launch in ten seconds.”

[Angel, I just wanted to say thank you. For everything so far.]

Angel nodded, though she didn’t know if Charlotte could see her. “It’ll be over soon. You’re safe.”

“Crisis launch in five seconds.”

[I hope so.]

“Four.”

[This hasn’t been for nothing.]

“Three.”

[I’ll repay you.]

“Two. One.”

[Eventually.]

“What?”

“Launch.”

Angel shook as the ship rumbled underneath her. She was pushed back into her chair, her weight increasing by multiples, then increasing again. She struggled to breathe, and her chest ached. Her impact suit inflated, forcing her blood to keep circulating. Darkness appeared around the edges of her sight. She fought to stave it off, unsuccessfully. Her vision faded to a pinprick of light. Charlotte’s tinkling laughter filled her ears, and Angel realized it was joyous. Charlotte had finally escaped. The sound chased her into oblivion.

Chapter 7

Music played in the background, far louder than she normally liked, but it was one of her favorites, a classical piece reputed to be composed by someone on old Earth. So ancient that the truth to whoever did compose the piece was lost in antiquity.

She moved and immediately regretted her decision. Her body felt bruised all over, and she ached as if she’d been beaten. By a few muscular men with clubs. Make that about ten.

“Urgh,” she managed, groaning with the effort it took. Her mouth was bone-dry, and her tongue felt swollen. Focusing her will, she pried one eyelid open, blinking at the stark light of the bridge. She closed it again and lay there, taking deep breaths through her nose.

Once she’d accustomed herself to the pain, she tried again, this time opening both eyes. To her left, the suit’s readout flashed red: seven percent power remaining, status inactive. Charlotte must have deactivated the suit once their launch was successful and they were out of danger.

The bridge looked much as she’d left it: buttons, knobs, and controls, readouts and dials. Not a state-of-the-art ship, but good enough to get them off planet and hopefully out of Mercurial Logic’s sphere of influence. The navigation screens were a mess of colored lines and shapes delineating the closest stars and planets. The writing attached to them was too blurry to read, even if she squinted.

[Angel! You’re awake!]

Angel winced as Charlotte’s enthusiastic voice pierced her head. She levered herself to a sitting position, then fumbled at the pilot’s seat controls and brought the back up.

“Yeah.” She manipulated the seat restraints and managed to free herself. “I need a drink. Of water.”

Charlotte’s pink monkey was still wedged inside her shirt, and she pulled it out and placed it on the seat.