Pandora's Star

“Missile detonation,” A

“Where were they?”

“Ship three. Attacking and defending barrage. The ship’s still intact. Changing trajectory slightly.”

Wilson glanced at the forward portal that was tracking the twenty-four missiles powering toward them. Their velocity alone was terrifying.

“We should go,” Oscar said quietly.

“Right.” The second shuttle was on its cradle, a volunteer pilot ready to launch the second there was any signal from Verbeke or Bose.

“More missile launches,” A

“Any reply to our signal?” Wilson asked.

Sandy shook her head.

“Detonations,” A

“Wilson,” Oscar urged. “It’s time.”

Captain Wilson Kime took a final look at the tracking display. The missiles were close now, and their true offensive capability remained unknown. He was coming perilously close to endangering his ship and crew. The bridge crew were all watching him, their expressions of defeat and regret, and yes, even guilt, were the same as his own.

“Hyperspace,” Wilson ordered. “Take us home.”

FIFTEEN

The lift doors opened smoothly, and police captain Hoshe Fi

“Where is she?” Hoshe asked. It said something for the power of unisphere publicity that he didn’t have to use his new police captain’s identity certificate. They all knew who he was.

“In there.” One of the bank suits pointed to the kitchen. “I want the bitch arrested.”

Hoshe raised an eyebrow while managing to look bored at the same time—something he’d seen Paula Myo do to great effect on several occasions.

Rather pleasingly, the suit flinched. “She threatened us,” he blustered. “And she’s damaged one of the GPbots. We’ll be requiring compensation for that.”

“Badly damaged?” Hoshe asked.

The supervisor glanced up from his tea. “Du

“Don’t blame you,” Hoshe said. The door into the kitchen was partly open. “Mellanie? It’s Hoshe Fi

“Go away!” the girl yelled. “All of you, just piss off.”

“Come on, Mellanie, you know I can’t do that. We have to talk. It’s just going to be you and me. No constables, or anything, you have my word.”

“No. I won’t. There’s nothing to talk about.”

Her voice had almost cracked. Hoshe sighed, and moved right up to the kitchen door. “You could at least offer me a drink. I always used to be offered something when we came here. Where’s the butler?”

There was a long silence followed by what sounded like a sniffle. “Gone,” she said quietly. “They all left, all of them.”

“Okay, I’ll make my own drink. I’m coming in now.” Hoshe edged around the door, still cautious, not that he thought there was any real danger.

Like the rest of the penthouse, the kitchen was huge and elaborate. Every worktop had been carved out of pink and gray marble, with the cupboard doors below them made from burnished brentwood. The cabinets above the worktop all had transparent doors, showing off the expensive sets of crockery and glasses. He had to walk around the pool-table-sized central workbench to find Mellanie. She was sitting on the floor in a corner, hunched up tight as if she were trying to push herself through the wall. A harmonic-blade carving knife lay on the terracotta floor tiles just in front of her.

Hoshe wanted to squat down beside her, illustrating support and friendship just like the training scenarios emphasized, but he hadn’t quite lost enough weight to do that comfortably. Instead he lounged back, resting his buttocks on the marble worktop. “You should be careful of those harmonic blades,” he said casually. “They can be quite dangerous in the wrong hands. Lots of junior debt-receivers can get bits chopped off if your aim’s good enough.”

Mellanie looked up. Her auburn hair was in complete disarray. She’d been crying badly; sticky trails down her cheeks. Even so, she remained gorgeous. Perhaps even more so in this state: a classic damsel in distress. “What?”

He gri

She nodded, and lowered her head again.

“The penthouse belongs to the bank now, Mellanie. You have to find somewhere else to stay.”

“This is my home,” she wailed.

“I’m really sorry. Would you like me to drive you back to your parents’ house?”

“I was going to wait for him here. Then when he comes back, everything will be just the same again.”

That shocked Hoshe more than anything else in the whole case. “Mellanie, the judge gave him a hundred and twenty years.”

“I don’t care. I’ll wait. I love him.”

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Hoshe said sincerely.

She looked up again, her face troubled as if she didn’t know who she was talking to.

“If you want to wait, that’s your decision, and I respect that,” he said. “Though I’d love to try and talk you out of it. But you really can’t do it here. I know it must be horrible for you seeing the bank walk in and take everything like this. But busting up a bot isn’t going to help get rid of them. In any case, the idiots outside are just doing their job. A

“You’re a very strange policeman. You care. Not like that—” Her lips tightened.

“Paula Myo’s gone. She left after the trial. You won’t ever see her again.”

“Good!” Mellanie looked at the carving knife, and extended a leg, pushing it away with her toes. “Sorry,” she said sheepishly. “But everything nice I ever had happen in my life happened here, and they just barged in and started… They were really nasty.”

“Small people always are. You going to be okay, now?”

She sniffed loudly. “Yes. I think so. I’m sorry they bothered you.”

“Not a problem, believe me; any excuse to get out of the office is welcome. So, why don’t I help you pack a couple of suitcases, then I’ll take you home? Humm, how about that?”

“I can’t.” She stared straight ahead. “I will not go back to my parents. I can’t do that. Please.”

“All right, that’s okay. How about a hotel?”

“I don’t have any money,” she whispered. “I’ve been eating the packets in the freezer since the trial. They’re almost gone. That’s why all the staff left. I couldn’t pay them. Morty’s company won’t help. None of the directors will even see me now. God! Those bastards. They loved me before, you know. I stayed at their houses, played with their children. And the parties we had. Have you ever been rich, Detective?”