Zero (34 page)

“
Let her go first,” he replied, still hanging back.

The ground shook again and all the floodlights went. The gravity pulsed off then on again
then the lights returned and in the confusion the men pushed Kinjo towards Hugo. She stumbled to her knees then scrambled away just as Webb dove for his gun. But the knifeman was too quick and grabbed him by the vacuum suit. Hugo and Bolt ran out, guns aimed but he had Webb on his knees and a grip on his hair, knife at his throat.

The gunman was panting and aiming at
the commander’s head. “
Stay back.
”

“
Christ Almighty, Hugo,” Webb growled. “Fucking
run
already.”

Hugo just stood there, panting, gun levelled. Another crash and a groan heaved through the rock a
round them and more boulders crashed down, crushing machinery and another floodlight. Masses of dust swirled in the air and the gravity warped and shifted and they all slid to the side, scrambling to keep balance.

“
Fuck this. We’re not going to get him away. Do it,” the gunman shouted. “Just
do it
.”

“
No
,” Hugo yelled, scrambling upright but the knifeman had already yanked Webb's head back. There was a confused moment when the ground shook and more rock fell but then Webb was falling forward and the knife man was stood there, clutching a handful of Webb's hair.

“
What the
fuck
?” Webb growled, getting to his knees when the knifeman nodded to the other and ran. The gunman aimed and fired and Webb went down.

Kinjo screamed. Bolt yelled and ran after both the men, firing wildly. Hugo stood frozen. His chest was banded with hot metal and his gut was filling with ice. He swayed with the shifting gravity and shaking floor and it took him three blinks before he processed the sight of Kinjo knelt next to
a sprawled Webb, blood on her hands and her body shaking with sobs.

He stumbled to the floor and pushed her away, turning Webb over. His eyes were
open but his face was still. He looked odd, Hugo thought, with his hair cut ragged by the knife. Hugo’s heart thumped against his ribs and he leant in to listen for breath but there was none. There was warmth between his fingers where his fists clutched the bloody vacuum suit. For a moment nothing existed except blackness threatening to drown him.

“
Captain.” Hugo felt Bolt's hand on his shoulder. The floor bucked and more rock fell as his awareness slammed back to reality. “We need to move. Now.”

“
Go,” Hugo said, throat aching. “Move.
Go
.”

Bolt nodded and got Kinjo to her feet and they stumbled away. Hugo bent and got his arms under Webb and lumbered upright. The commander was lighter than Hugo expected but he was still panting and his shoulders were burning when he got to the door where Bolt was waiting.

“Sir,” Bolt said, face drawn. “Sir, it's against protocol. We need to move fast-”

“
Move, Crewman,” Hugo snarled.

“
Sir-”

“
I said fucking
move
.”

Bolt looked from his face to Webb and he saw him swallow. The crewman holstered his gun and leant and took Webb
’s body from him, hoisting him up like he were a doll. “Let's go, sir.”

Hugo felt his throat close up but he nodded, pulled out his gun and jogged ahead. Kinjo took up the rear, pulling her own gun but not looking like she would be able to use it.

The lights in the corridor were flickering and the air was full of smoke and rock dust. There was a shout once and someone turned the corner but careened across and down another corridor before they could fire a shot. There was heat and sweat and grit grinding between his teeth and the taste of iron heavy in his throat.

Bolt took
Father
and, somehow, though Hugo never quite remembered how, he and Kinjo found the flyer pool, hotwired one and zoomed out of the satellite. Bolt must have signalled the Zero because the flyer's cockpit was washed white by the fireball of the imploding satellite. All he could hear though was Kinjo's thick breathing and his own pulse in his ears.

ɵ

“He gets
nothing
?” Hugo's hands hunted for something to throw. “He gave everything,
everything
to this ship. And now he's dead. And he gets
nothing
?”

Luscombe's face on the display was like granite.
“Webb knew the risks, Hugo. This is unfortunate, but this is the game. And if you had followed orders, this wouldn't have happened.”

Hugo felt his fingers burn with the grip he had on the table. He still had the taste of smoke in his throat mingling with the burn of alcohol. Every breath that raked in and out was like fire.

“They knew we were coming,” he spat. “They were riddled with security. And our fighters are barely scratched. They were trying to bring us in
alive
.”

“
This is all supposition, Hugo,” Luscombe said. “I don't know where the hell this idea came from but it's culminated in you risking your crew on a hunch. And look what happened.”

Hugo opened his mouth but none of the curses he could think of were foul enough.

“It's a bloody good thing you still destroyed the thing,” Luscombe continued, “or I'd be heaving your arrogant ass into the Command Centre brig to rot. You could have messed up the entire operation, Captain Hugo. Be glad we got out of it with as little losses as we did.”

Hugo's glass shattered against the wall display. The liquid trickled down and the screen flashed and warped but Luscombe was still there, face like thunder.

“Drift the body, Hugo” the colonel said, voice dangerously low. “And then take yourself off to some hole, a dark one, and stay there. I don't want to so much as hear the word
Zero
until I send for you.”

ɵ

“Rami, find us somewhere in North America, outside the fallout but away from any civilian habitation. I'll be damned before I see him drifted.”

Rami swallowed and looked at him. Her eyes were dry but her face was pale. It was a moment before she managed to speak.
“Somewhere remote, sir?”

“
Yes.”

“
Somewhere near water, perhaps...”

Hugo swallowed, seeing something flash in her eyes then die.
“Where can we find a priest?”

“
A Nova Catholica priest, sir?” More asked. “We'll struggle on Earth. We'll have to stop by Lunar 1.”

“
Set a course.”

“
Sir,” More said, not looking up, already obeying. “I feel I should point out-”

“
I don't give a shit. Lay in the course for Lunar 1. Rami?”

“
Yes sir,” she replied, not looking up from her workstation as information and maps flickered across her screen. “I'll find somewhere suitable.”

Hugo nodded, though no one was looking at him. The bridge was still filled with the beeps and whirs of the computers and the clicking of Rami and More's fingers on the controls, but it all seemed fuzzy and far away, like all his senses had been wrapped in cotton.

He swallowed a foul taste in his mouth and returned to his cabin, shut off the lights and lay on his bunk glaring into the dark.

ɵ

Doll murmured everything in Latin, but Hugo didn't need to understand the words to know what she was saying. It was written on her face. Her skin was pale and there were dark circles under her eyes. She looked older. Immeasurably older. She sprinkled some soil onto the fresh patch of turned earth and Hugo thought she had started to cry but then he felt a wetness on his own face. The patter of rain on the leaves of the surrounding trees rose to a hiss as the rain got heavier, churning the surface of the lake into a pitted stretch of bubbles and ripples.

The earthy smell of wet soil rose from the ground and the chill felt good. He willed it to numb the burning
under his skin. He turned his face up and blinked through the water, up to the steel-grey sky. A real sky. One that stretched to a horizon and was a muddled mass of clouds and rain and wild things and not made of metal. The rain stung his eyes but he didn't look away.

It was a moment before he realised Doll had finished. She was looking at him. He didn't say anything but just stood and blinked rain water from his eyelashes. She inclined her head, then wandered away towards the trees, an arm around Kinjo's shoulders. Sub held his pack over Bolt to try and shelter him as he used the lasertool to cut an E then a W and the year into the boulder they'd rolled down from the tree line
to mark the grave.

When it was done the crewmen straightened, shook rain out of their eyes and both saluted
. They then followed Doll and Kinjo back towards the
Zero.
More followed shortly after without a word or a look at Hugo, then it was just him and Rami. Spinn hadn't come down.

For once
, the lieutenant’s face was open, a mask of pain, eyes haunted and angry, though even now it didn't look like she was crying. Part of Hugo felt he should leave her alone. There was more going on in her face than he could understand. She deserved to say her goodbyes in private. But he couldn't move.

He stared out at the rain-pocked lake, feeling fat drops trickle down inside his collar and his clothes cling to every inch of his skin. Eventually Rami left. He sat down in the mud beside the grave marker, letting the rain stream over him until night rolled in.

“You're doing it again.”

Hugo blinked until the darkness faded to the edges of his awareness and he was back in the room with the orange stripes of street light across the ceiling and the smell of old sheets and damp skin.

“Here's a novel idea,” Harvey said raising herself up on her elbows to look down into his face. “Talk to me.”

Hugo looked at her, green eyes appearing black in the meagre light, then pulled her in for a kiss, only partially to change the subject.

“Fine,” she said, pulling away. “Have it your way. I gotta go. I’ve been away from Haven too long already.”

She clambered out of bed and padded around the grimy boarding room, picking up her clothes. Hugo watched her, trying to untangle what it was he was feeling. She stuffed the last of her possessions into a pack and slung it on her shoulders. She paused, sighed and sat on the bed, tilting his chin up so he looked right into her eyes.

“Just promise me you'll look after yourself, okay?”

He still couldn't make his voice work. She shook her head again, leant in for
a last, lingering kiss, then she was gone. He lay and stared at the ceiling for a while, part of himself insisting yet again that he needed sleep. After half an hour, as usual, he gave up, dressed and went downstairs.

The barman nodded to him as he came in and poured him a blask without a word. Hugo nodded his thanks, keying his credit code into the panel in the bar, then shouldered in over his drink to prepare for another evening. The bar was virtually empty. That was why he came here. Not even the barman tried to converse with him. He swirled the black liquid in his glass, savouring the bite. It wasn't good, but it was cheap. It was everywhere in Sydney, good and bad. After his third mouthful he realised he'd left his wrist panel in his room again. He scowled into his drink. If Luscombe called, he could bloody well leave a message.

He didn't look up when a large man took a seat on the stool next to him, despite there being many empty ones. He ordered his drink and sat in silence for a moment. Hugo glared at his glass.

“
Master Kaleb,” the large man said after taking a sip of his drink. Hugo finally looked up. The man’s hair and beard were a lot greyer than Hugo remembered. He looked tired too, but otherwise as stoic as ever. “I'm glad I found you.”

Hugo glared back at the bar.
“Go away, Colwyn.”

“
Your mother would very much like to see you.”

Hugo didn't move but he didn't leave, draining his drink instead. The man finished his own, unhurried, then laid a hand on Hugo's shoulder. The familiar weight of it made something shift inside him. Without even entirely registering what he was doing, brain murky and vision blurry, he got up and followed Colwyn out of the bar.

The flyer ride was silent, for which Hugo was grateful. Colwyn took the main skyways right over the city. The lights from the harbour bridge swirled on the choppy waters of the bay and Memorial Music Hall towered up beside it, all lit up in blues and whites. There was a queue of expensive flyers for the top-level parking pool and as they passed by he saw elegant people with drinks and fine clothes on the balconies. He watched the hall fade away in the rear view mirror, unable to define what he was feeling.

His heart hammered more than it did before a mission as he stepped into the apartment. The wide hall was empty. The lounge area to his left with its sunken couches and shelves of books was dark.

“Special Commander and Major Hugo will see you in the den when you are ready, sir. There are supplies in the guest bathroom, should you wish to use them.” Colwyn inclined his head slightly, gave Hugo a meaningful up-and-down glance and left.

For a long moment Hugo just stood in the hall, breathing. The apartment still smelt of fresh linen, with the hint of lemon from the carpet cleaner his sister had always bought. It had once meant home. His boots sunk into the white carpet without a sound. For one horrific moment he was back in the corridors of Marlowe's complex. But he shook his head and the illusion was gone. These carpets were familiar and more trodden and the walls were blue, not white. There were digiprints and vases on the tables, shapes, colours and patterns he had known for years.

In the guest bathroom he ran the water so hot it steamed. Razor, soap, comb and toothbrush had all been laid out on the marble side. When he was done some of the fog in his brain had cleared and he looked more like the man he remembered last seeing in this mirror, though with the longer hair combed back and the growth of beard gone, the bleakness in his eyes and the narrow press of his mouth were more noticeable.

He paced through the halls towards the den, becoming more certain he'd made a mistake with every step he took. He didn't know if he wanted to tear the place apart or sink to the carpet and sob. When he reached the den, he paused to try and make out the muffled voices through the door, but they were talking too low. Biting the inside of his cheek, he pushed the door open and went in.

His mother, father and eldest brother looked up as he came in. Every back was straight and every face was tight. The only clear emotion that Hugo could pin down was relief that they weren't in uniform.

“
Kale,” Giles eventually broke the silence that had been ballooning out of control, frown heavy. “Is that really you?”

“
Yes, it's me,” he said, coughed and tried again for a less defeated tone. “What do you want?”

“
What do we want?
” his father said. “After everything that’s happened, that's what you have to say?”

“
You summoned me,” Hugo mumbled. “So I'm here. What do you want?”

“
What the hell's happened to you, son?” His father's face was stormy.

“
Nothing you want to hear about.”

Giles and his father exchanged glances. His mother hung back, face blank. She hadn't moved a muscle since he came in.

“Are you going to tell me what you want? Or are you just going to stand here staring at me?”

“
This attitude is not helping, Kaleb,” his father said,. “And don't try and tell me you didn't want to see us. Why else would you be here?”

“
My crew are trading with some reps at Service Headquarters.”

“
Are they now?”

“
I shouldn't be here...” Hugo began, shaking his head and turning away.

“
No, wait,” Giles said. “Kale, listen a moment.”

Hugo swallowed but kept his face blank. His father shook his head but Giles just stood there, mouth working.

“We have good news, Kaleb,” his mother said once the silence had blundered on a few more seconds. She didn't look him in the eye but rather somewhere over his head. “Your brother and I have found a unit, Earth-based, that will take you on. It will do until you have a chance to regain some of Command's trust.”

“
What rank?”

His mother looked him in the eye now and it was like someone had dumped cold water down his neck.
“Private.”

“
You want me to step down to be a dirtside private?”

“
Step
down
?” his mother replied after a pause.

His father heaved a great sigh and rubbed his forehead.
“Kaleb, you'll never pilot in the Space Corps again. Running your career aground with Black Dawn was bad enough. But then to... to turn to...”

“
I didn't believe it,” his mother cut in, words like pebbles dropped on marble. “I said my son would never,
never
countenance throwing away his life like that. Everything he'd earned and trained for and believed in, discarded like trash. Never. Not Kaleb Hugo. But it's true, isn't it?” Hugo swallowed his response with an effort. “You could have come to us,” she continued. “We could have stemmed this months ago – had you reassigned, re-trained. But what did you do?”

He nearly told them everything. The words formed on his tongue.
“I am a captain,” is all he eventually said, however.

“
Captain?” his father grunted. “Captain of a crew that's not only got a Service record as long as the central skyway but also seems to be on the wrong side of Lunar Strip fences and terrorists.”

“
I'm not going back to the Service,” Hugo said, raising his head and suddenly feeling calmer. “I don't belong there any more.”

“
Kaleb Hugo,” his mother said, voice low and lips pale. “If you do not report to your unit in Siberia for duty within a week and humbly accept this chance we have pulled out of the mire for you... then you are on your own. Totally.”

“
I already am.”

“
Son,” his father said, face softening. “It's not too late.”

“
Yes it is.”

“
Kaleb,” his mother said again, high spots of colour appearing on her cheeks. “We cannot be associated with criminals and insurgents. If you make this move... you are no longer my son.”

“
Erica,” his father said, but she raised her hand.

“
This is bigger than us. Bigger than you, Kaleb. We belong to the Service. We serve the Orbit and protect it from the likes of your so-called crew.”

“
You don't even know my crew.”

His mother raised an eyebrow.
“I know enough. Make your choice, Kaleb. And make it now. But remember you won't get another.”

“
Kale,” Giles said, watching his face. “Don't be a fool…”

“
I am not a fool,” Hugo said slowly. “And I am not Service. Not any more.”

For the briefest of moments he was sure he saw despair sweep through his mother's face. But then it was stone again and she turned and left the den without another word.

“You're better than this, Kaleb,” his father said. “I hope you realise that before it truly is too late. But even if you do, you'll have to make your way back on your own.”

He held his father's gaze for a moment. What he could read in the major's face was everything he knew and yet everything he could no longer understand. The older man drained the drink he'd been holding and looked away. He set his glass on the side and the door clicked closed behind him.

Hugo stood staring after him. The anger was still hot but there was also confusion, guilt and a chilled finger of fear. But, underneath, there was something else... something stalwart. Something he thought he'd lost.

“
Here,” Giles was at his elbow holding out a glass. “You look like you need it.”

His brother's face was more open than their parents' and all it wore was concern with a twist of confusion. He took the glass of blask and sipped it. It was the taste of the brand he had missed, earthy and sharp with the clean warmth of a quality blend, but he didn't enjoy it.

“What the hell do you think you're doing Kale?” Giles implored. “You were always one to push at boundaries... but this? You've gone a little far just to make a point.”

“
I'm not making a point.”

“
Then what are you doing?”

“
This was the hand I was dealt, Giles,” he said, finding his voice calm. “I have to find my way on the path I'm on.”

“
What, smuggling and gun-running?”

Hugo levelled his gaze at his brother.
“You don't know the
Zero
.”

Giles blinked at the heaviness of his tone.
“Maybe I don't. But I know what people say. And that's enough to drift any remains of a future you might have left.”

“
Future is something Mother thinks about. And Father and you, Andrew and all the others. But it's not real. All I have now is who I trust and who I don't. It's honest. It's real. And it means I have the chance to choose to do the right thing, not be told what the right thing is.”

“
You're romanticising.”

“
I'm
not romanticising
,” Hugo growled. “It's ugly out there. Fucking ugly.”

“
I know,” his brother replied coolly. “That's why I fight for the chance to make it better.”

“
You don't understand.”

“
I'm
trying
to understand, Kale. Explain it to me. Make me understand what you're doing.”

“
You can't. You're on this side of it,” he waved his arm around the den with the deep carpets, strategy books, maps and trophies. “You are told what it's like, but now I've
seen
it. I've been there. It's made me bleed and it's in my skin. I can't go back now and pretend I don't know. Even if I could... I wouldn't. I'm... free.”

Giles shook his head.
“Not in a million years would I expect you to see law-dodging, hacking and stealing as freedom.”

“
It is.”

“
Well,” Giles said, looking him up and down. “Forgive me, Kale, but this bright, bohemian freedom of yours doesn't exactly seem to be treating you well.”