Downbelow Station

“… cleared Pell,” a rider voice came to them, what their own scan was begi

There was no way they could see; Australia was on long-scan: it was the nature of the chaff they reckoned. “Form up,” she ordered her riders, feeling more secure with them about Norway like four extra arms. Edger could not risk further damage now, not if a vane was gone; not for any revenge.

“They’re going for jump,” she heard. It was a Union voice, none that she knew — a foreign accent. Suddenly there was a vast coldness in her gut, a knowledge that it was all beyond recall.

Be thorough, Mazian had taught her, teaching her most that she knew. No half-measures.

She leaned back in the cushion. All over Norway there was silence.

iv

Lily at least remained. Alicia Lukas-Konstantin let her eyes move about the walls, last of all to the small module, part of the molded white of the bed itself, two lights, one on, one off, one green, one red. Red now. They were on internal systems.

Power was threatened. Lily did not know, perhaps; she managed the machines, but what powered them was likely to be mysterious to her. And the Downer’s eyes remained calm, her hand remained gentle, stroking her hair, a remaining contact with the living.

Angelo’s gifts, the structures about her, had proven as stubborn as her own brain. The screens kept changing, the machines kept pumping life through her veins, and Lily stayed.

There was an off switch. If she asked Lily, Lily, ignorant, would push it. But that was cruel, to one who believed in her.

She did not.

v

Carefully, Damon left his place, felt his way dizzily past the banks of instruments and the techs to reach Mallory. He hurt; an arm was torn, his neck ached in its joints. There could not be a soul on Norway spared such misery, the techs, Mallory herself. She turned bleak eyes on him from her place at the main boards, powered her cushion about to look at him, nodded slightly.

“So you’ve got your wish,” she said. “Union’s in. They don’t need to track Mazian now. They know for certain where he’s gone. I’m betting they’ll find a base at Pell valuable; they’ll save your station, Mr. Konstantin, no question now. And it’s high time we got ourselves out of here.”

“You said,” he reminded her quietly, “you’d let me off.”

Her eyes darkened. “Don’t press your luck. So maybe I’ll dump you and your Unioner friend on some merchanter when it suits me. If it suits me. Ever.”

“My home,” he said. He had gathered his arguments; but his voice shook, destroying logic. “My station… I belong back there.”

“You belong nowhere now, Mr. Konstantin.”

“Let me talk to them. If I can get a truce from Union to get close enough… I know the systems. I can handle the central systems; the techs… may be dead. They are dead, aren’t they?”

She turned her face away, turned the cushion, returning to her own business. He reckoned his danger, leaned forward and set a hand on the arm of the cushion so that she could not ignore him; a trooper moved, but waited orders. “Captain. You’ve gone this far. I’m asking you… you’re a Company officer. You were. One last time… one last time, captain. Get me back to Pell. I’ll talk you out again, free. I swear I will.”

She sat still a very long moment.

“You going to run from here beaten?” he asked her, “Or leave at your own pace?”

She turned, and it was not a good thing to look into her eyes. “You looking to take a walk?”

“Take me back,” he said. “Now. While it matters. Or never. Because later won’t matter. There’ll be nothing I can do and I had as soon be dead.”

Her lips tightened. For several moments she sat dead still, staring at him. “I’ll do what I can. Up to a limit. If they make of your truce what I think I will…” She brought her hand down on the cushioned arm. “This is mine. This ship. You understand that. These people… I was Company. We all were. And Union doesn’t want me loose. You’re asking for what could turn into a firefight right next to your precious station. Union wants Norway. They want us badly… because they know what we’ll do. There’s no way I can live, stationer, because I’ve got no port I’ll dare go to. I’ll not come in. I never will. None of us will. Graff. Set us a quiet course for Pell.”

Damon drew back, reckoned that the wisest move at the moment. He listened to the one-sided com he had accessible, Norway advising the Union fleet that they were moving in. There seemed to be some dispute. Norway argued back.

A hand touched his shoulder. He looked around, found Josh there. “I’m sorry,” Josh said. He nodded, holding no grudge. Josh… had had few choices given him.

“They want you, all right,” Mallory said. “Handed over to them.”

“I’ll go.”

“Ignorant,” Mallory spat. “They’ll mindwipe you. You know that?”

He thought about it. Remembered Josh, sitting across from him at a desk and asking for the papers, end of a process Russell’s had started. Men came out of it. Josh had. “I’ll go,” he said again.

Mallory frowned at him. “It’s your mind,” she said. “Till they get their hands on you, at least.” And into com: “This is Mallory. We’ve got ourselves a standoff, captain. I don’t like your terms.”

There was a long delay. Silence from the other end.

On scan, Pell showed, with Union ships hovering about it like birds about carrion. One looked to have docked. Long-scan showed a scattering of red-dotted gold out by the mines, the short-haulers, and the lonely position of one other ship, indicated by a blinking light at the edge of the scope, offscan but in comp’s memory. Nothing moved, save for four blips very near Norway, closing into tighter formation.

They had come to a relative halt, drifting in time with everything else in the system.

“This is Azov of Unity,” a voice came to them. “Captain Mallory, you have leave to dock with your passenger to let him off. Your approach to Pell is accepted, with thanks from the people of Union for your invaluable assistance. We’re willing to accept you within the Union Fleet as you are, armed and with your present crew. Over.”

“This is Mallory. What assurances has my passenger got?”

Graff leaned closer to her. Held up a finger. Norway resounded to the clang of something against her hull, a lock closing. Damon looked distractedly at scan.

“Fighter just docked,” Josh said at his shoulder. “They’re gathering the riders in. They can run for jump — ”

“Captain Mallory,” Azov’s voice returned, “I have a Company representative aboard who will order you to take that action — ”

“Ayres can shove it,” she said. “I’ll tell you what I want for what I’ve got. Docking privileges at Union ports and clear paper. Or maybe I let my valuable passenger take a walk.”

“These matters can be discussed later in detail. We have a crisis on Pell. Lives are in jeopardy.”

“You have comp experts. Can it be you can’t figure the system?”

There was another silence. “Captain. You’ll get what you want. Kindly dock under our safeconduct if you want that paper. There’s a situation on this station regarding native workers. They’re asking for Konstantin.”

“The Downers,” Damon breathed. He had a sudden and terrible vision of Downers facing Union troops.

“You clear your ships back from that station, Captain Azov. Unity can stay docked. I’ll come in on the opposite side and you see to it your ships don’t get out of synch with your position. Anything crosses my tail I’ll fire with no questions asked.”

“Granted,” Azov answered.