Pirates of the Outrigger Rift (5 page)

Spacers looked at her and smiled. Some of the down-and-outs looked, too, but knew they didn’t stand a chance with her.

Chandler watched as she stepped carefully down into the pit. He rose to intercept her. The man in the trench coat rose as well. Only then did Chandler realize what had bothered him about the man. His boots. They were polished to a military shine in contrast with his disheveled appearance.

Then Chandler noticed that two others like Mr. Shiny Boots, from different parts of the room, began moving in. Something was going down.

The girl noticed all of them moving toward her. She turned and bolted toward the exit.

“Stop!” Shiny Boots yelled, pulling his blaster and aiming it at her back.

Chandler didn’t have room to draw in the closeness of the crowd, so he tackled the man. The blaster discharged and struck the wall above the courier’s head. Chandler wrestled with the man as she continued to run.

A pair of dirtsiders entered the bar, laughing over some joke. She darted between them toward the door as the other men opened fire. Energy bolts cut down the two laughing men where they stood, sending blood and bones flying amidst the bright flashes and high-pitched belches of the weapons. The stench of smoldering flesh filled the bar.

Chandler twisted the blaster from Shiny Boots’ hand and hammered his jaw with a solid right cross. The man went limp.

Chandler rose to sprint for the door, turning to cover his escape with a few rounds of blaster fire. Before he could get off a shot, he was blindsided by a chair. The lights went out in a flash of pain.

Sai pushed through the doors and cut to the right just as they exploded into splinters. She ran. She felt the transponder still buzzing in her pocket. Since they might be able to track her with it, she pulled it out and dropped it on the pavement.

She had caught a glimpse of the man who must have been her contact and had seen him fight with one of her attackers. She doubted he had any chance of making it out of the bar.

Before Sai could reach a turnoff, she heard booted feet clacking on the street behind her. People panicked as the heavily armed team stormed out of the bar.

Behind her, she heard one of the men shouting into a comlink, “Green Leader to all units! We’re in foot pursuit northbound from Tyree’s.”

As she ran, pedestrian traffic grew thicker. Sai shouldered her way through the crowd. Energy bolts flashed and people cried out, tumbling to the ground to avoid death. Her pursuers fired recklessly.

Sai gained some ground, thankful that the team didn’t seem to have anyone ahead of her. The men had to stumble over the prone bystanders. Even so, she barely made the corner as the energy bolts slammed into the stone wall behind her.

A taxi hovered near the curb. The old cabby stared at the approaching chaos, cigar dropping from his lips.

“What in the name of—”

Sai raced to the taxi, pulled open a door and jumped inside. “Let’s get the hell out of here!”

“What?”

She whipped her whisperblade from her jacket and flipped on the power. She held the deadly glow of its blade centimeters from the cabby’s right eye. “Go! Dammit, go!”

The cabby hit the engine and pulled up and away from the curb.

“Can’t you go any faster?”

“I’m going as fast as I—”

An energy bolt slammed into the back of the cab, cut through the back seat next to Sai and burst through the front seat.

The cabby fell face-first into the dash, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth.

“Damn!”

Sai rolled over the seat, kicked open the door, and pushed out the cabby’s corpse. It fell onto the road ten meters below. She took hold of the control lever and slammed it into high gear, turning onto the next street so fast that the anti-crash system took over and shot out an extra booster to send the cab up and over the oncoming traffic.

The cab bounced violently on a magnetic cushion over the vehicles. Sai jerked the lever to the side, overcompensating, and the cab dropped suddenly down onto the sidewalk so hard that the metal actually hit the concrete, sending off a shower of sparks.

People leaped out of the way as she careened around the next corner. She whipped the cab into a dark alley and parked it for a moment to consider her options.

She suspected that, while the men chasing her were on foot, they probably had transportation nearby. She’d never learned to drive a floater on manual, and if she let traffic control take over she’d be a sitting duck. The cab wasn’t exactly inconspicuous.

Sai had to ditch it, create a diversion, and slip away unnoticed. She exited the vehicle and shut the door behind her. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on the floater’s guidance system, creating within her mind an image of the programming pathways. The cyber-psi link began to form, merging her will with the data stream. She brushed past the limited security system and manipulated the guidance control. She executed a subroutine, then severed the link. The cab floated upward and entered the flow of traffic.

It didn’t get very far.

Three blocks away, a sleek black sedan intercepted the taxi as it raced along. The sedan slammed into the side of the cab just as the vehicles approached a sharp corner around a tall building. The cab careened into the steel-and-glass structure, then exploded. Wreckage and fire rained down upon the street. The sedan banked and came back for another look.

Did they see that the taxi was unoccupied? If so, the search and destroy mission would continue. If not, they would think she was dead.

Sai knew it was best to play it safe and assume the worst. She needed to get to Dirion. He would know what to do.

She began walking toward Dirion’s place, limping a little at first, but soon the pain was gone. Sai did her best to stick to the shadows or to mix in with groups where possible. Perhaps they hadn’t seen her escape. Something bothered her. Something at the edge of her senses, but she figured it had to be the adrenaline. After a few blocks, her breath came easier and she thought she was safe.

She was wrong.

CHAPTER FOUR

A
ngus Brock eased his floater back into the flow of traffic and checked the position of the girl again on his monitor. He had been waiting outside Tyree’s for her to show, and as soon as she had, he’d let his little friend loose on its mission.

The tiny nanite observer flew silently behind her. It had dogged her every move since she had stepped into the bar. Even now it buzzed, gnat-like, behind her as she took back alleys to her destination in the slums of Hemdale City. His monitor showed the view from just behind and over her shoulder where the nanite floated.

He had to admire the woman. She was sharp and tough. The Nebulaco Security force had bungled the job, jumping the gun before they were in proper position to cut off her escape. Rank amateurs. They were soft from bullying the weak and passive. It was obvious that they didn’t have combat experience.

Brock had plenty, and he didn’t want any more if he could help it. He had transferred into the Confed Secret Service from the Marines three years ago. This latest assignment didn’t sit well with him.

He’d been working undercover for six months, starting with odd jobs and infiltrating the pirate Thorne’s network of informants, spies, and muscle. Brock was trying to find out how Thorne was getting so much detail on shipping routes and cargos, how he was avoiding armed escorts so easily.

By demonstrating his skills at surveillance, Brock had so far found it easy to move up in the ranks of Thorne’s organization. To date, this latest job was the most elaborate. Nebulaco Security had been chasing the girl he was tailing and they were tearing the hell out of the free zone to get her. Heads would roll over that one once the Confed heard about it. And Brock was going to make sure they heard plenty when he reported in to his handler.

Even though the girl was a thief, he was sorry that she would likely die. She’d been smart, and she played the game well. At least he didn’t have to do it; his job was merely to track and report. He couldn’t break cover. There was too much risk.

Where was she running?

Making a detour around a traffic accident, he keyed a query into the secure comlink to operations. He had to hand it to Thorne—the pirate had one hell of an information network. Brock was learning more about it every day. Each successful mission brought him closer to the secret of who and what Thorne actually was. Obviously he was more than just some hijacker preying on trade ships. The organization was too precise, too elaborate.

In moments he had his reply. A stream of data filled his monitor. The girl was ID’d as Sai Collins. Prior to accepting a job with Nebulaco, she had been a datalifter and courier who worked for a freelance oracle named Dirion.

Thorne’s information from the underground also said Dirion’s place was in the direction she was headed. It made sense. She needed a place to hole up.

Twenty minutes later he was parked across the street from some run-down apartments. He pulled back the nanite just before she entered the building. If Dirion was like most oracles he would have surrounded himself with scanners and security systems. No sense in letting him detect Brock’s observer.

He lowered the window on his floater and released more nanites to circle the building in case she took a back way out.

Sighing, he clicked his comlink. Time to report to Thorne’s people and earn his keep.

On the outside, the shabby apartment building looked like any other in this part of town. Built in the booming days of early exploration, it had once housed the best brothel in the sector. Now the building was abandoned except for the top floor, which was occupied by one man—Dirion. Sai felt reassured as she entered the familiar home of her adoptive father. If anyone knew what to do, he would. He had taken her in from the streets years ago after her parents died and left her alone.

She eased her way along the hallway. It was covered with peeling, water-stained wallpaper, but she knew that beneath the shabby façade lay sensors, scanners, probes, and automatic weaponry. There was enough security gear in the building to outfit a corporate stronghold. If Dirion didn’t want to see you, you’d best stay well away from his home. It was a deadly mistake to come uninvited.

As far as she knew, she was the only one who ever visited Dirion. He dealt in information and handled all his business over the Grid. Dirion was the best freelance oracle on Raken, a powerful man, but in person he was vulnerable.

Sai opened the door to the inner sanctum. In the dim light, she could see him sitting on the cybernetic throne that permanently connected his mind to the Grid. A ring of neural probes encircled his bald head like a crown of thorns. His pale, nearly nude body was horribly emaciated, ribs sticking out in sharp relief. His limbs were vestigial organs, unfeeling and unused for decades.

“Hello, my little Sai,” came Dirion’s voice from hidden speakers. “I’m relieved to see you. I was afraid you wouldn’t make it.”

Sai collapsed into the dusty chair opposite him. “I take it you picked up on the mess over at Tyree’s?”

“Who could miss it? The Grid is buzzing about it.”

“Who were they?”

“Nebulaco Security.”

“Damn,” she said. “I can’t believe they’d waste their heavy hitters on little people like me. Even risking trouble with the Confed to do it.”

“You obviously have something they want very badly.”

“Director Casey had something on everyone. There’s no telling what it is.”

“Do you have the package with you?”

“Yes.” She opened her jacket and removed a black case.

“Can we open it?” Dirion said. “If we defuse the issue by releasing the secrets on that datastore, we can possibly get the heat off.”

“No. It’s sealed and code protected. The contents would be destroyed if we tried to open it. Nebulaco might want the data destroyed, or maybe this is vital data they need. Either way, I know the intended recipient wants what’s inside. I’d have corporate security
plus
the client after me at that point. I have to finish the run somehow.”

“Without knowing to whom it should be delivered, that could be a problem,” Dirion said. “But let’s examine what we know and see if we can extrapolate an answer.”

Sai smiled. Dirion was true to form. Always the analyst. “We don’t know much.”

Dirion chuckled. “But we do. We know that at one time this information was most likely in the possession of Frederick Casey, the deceased security director for Nebulaco.”

“True,” Sai said.

“We know that just prior to his death, Casey was implicated in a scheme involving piracy of Nebulaco trade shipments. Supposedly, Casey’s subordinate, a man named Vincent Maxwell, intercepted some communications that exposed Casey.”

“And then Casey killed himself,” Sai said.

“An implicit confession to some. But dead men can’t mount a defense against any allegations, whether they’re true or false.”

“So how does this relate to the datastore in the courier pouch?”

“A dead man has no interest in further protecting himself, so I doubt it’s evidence against Casey. A dead man has no need to increase his riches so I doubt it’s more information for the pirates. What would a dead man want if he were falsely accused of a crime?”

Sai considered it for a moment. “Vindication? Revenge?”

“Very good. The logical conclusion in my estimation is that the contents of that pouch detail the truth about Thorne and the piracy against Nebulaco. But not the whole truth. If Casey had all the answers he wouldn’t have waited to act. But he was close enough to be a threat, so he was removed. I’m sorry, Sai. But this information is hot and they won’t stop until they get it.”

“It’s not your fault. I accepted the risk of working with Casey, running his data operations here and there when he needed my touch. I have to see this through. Let’s look ahead. What do I need to do first?”

“First, I may have identified your intended contact. I have a report that a man named Mike Chandler was taken into custody at the scene. Nobody else was arrested.”

He pulled up a holo image of Chandler. Sai nodded. “I saw him at Tyree’s. He saved my life.”

“He’s a freelance operative. They’re holding him in lockup, so he’s likely undergoing interrogation. I’m putting a tracer on the data and sending you his comlink info. If his status changes you’ll get an update. I believe he may have a powerful ally, but at this point, since he’s in custody, he isn’t a viable option. You can’t complete the drop to him.”

Sai began to pace the room. “So who was he working for? Who was the end customer? I need to get this thing off my hands.”

“Odds are it’s one of the corporate lords at Nebulaco. They could make the most of the data and act on it within the corporation.”

“But it was Nebulaco Security who attacked me. If it’s going back to the corporation anyway, do you think I can just contact them and give it back?”

“There’s a power struggle going on. Their own security director either killed himself or was murdered. They wouldn’t think twice about taking the pouch and then silencing you. We have to get the package to the lord who’s trying to get it, but we need to figure out which one. If you go to the wrong person, this could blow up in your face.”

“More than it already has?” She sighed. She felt as if she were being buried alive by the reality of the situation. Why was this happening to her? Why wasn’t anything ever easy? “Okay then, what’s the plan?”

“Let me check the starport databanks for transport. We need to get you off Raken.”

“To go where?”

“Anywhere but here for now. You can lay low until I determine to whom the package needs to go.”

“Do a search for Hank Jensen. He’s the pilot I traveled with earlier today. He’s an arrogant bastard, but I trust him.”

“Trust is rare. Searching now.”

As Dirion sent his senses through the Grid, Sai got up to go to the kitchen. “I don’t suppose you have anything to eat in here anymore, do you? I’m starving.”

“Sorry, all intravenous. I didn’t bother restocking after you left the nest. Of course you’re welcome to a vein full of saline with lipids and glucose on the side.” Dirion’s voice followed her to the speakers installed in the kitchen.

“No, thanks.” Sai poured a glass of tepid water and drank it while Dirion’s circuitry hummed around her.

“I think I’ve found your ship. Hank Jensen is still in port. I’m showing that he just made a credit purchase at the Silver Dollar Saloon, a spacer club in the Warehouse District.”

“I know where that is.”

“You’ll need some traveling money,” Dirion said. Sai heard a faint hum as a credit stick ejected from the side of Dirion’s chair.

She walked over and took the stick. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Take it. I wish it could be more.”

“Thank you. I never seem to be able to tell you how much I appreciate you. I love—”

An alarm sounded from one of Dirion’s communication stations.

“Sai, you need to leave … now,” Dirion said. “I’ve been monitoring the security channels. There’s an attack squad coming this way. They have orders to kill, and they know you’re here.”