Страница 19 из 88
The room dimmed. He could hear his own pulse, proving he was alive.
That was all.
Chapter Three
—i—
A BROTHER HE'D RATHER NOT HAVE met lying like a heap of laundry on the bunk in the brig, and, Christian said to himself, Austin was very possibly going to kill him, when Austin finished sorting out the fines and the penalties… none of which was his fault; but that didn't mean whoever approached Austin with a minor problem wasn't going to catch hell.
"I wouldn't go in there," Beatrice said, in the vicinity of Austin's office. As a mother, Beatrice wasn't the historic model… she'd dropped her kid between jumps, left him to cousin Saby's ten-year-old mercy, and nowadays abdicated him to Capella's, God help him. Right now Beatrice showed the ravages of a night on the docks, red eyes, hair trailing out of its usual tight twist—the glitz-paint was worn on one bare shoulder, saying Beatrice had been in bed when the search team found her or the beeper on the pocket-corn finally blasted her out of whatever lair she'd intended for the next several days.
So they'd all had cancelled plans. Capella was in a funk. Beatrice looked mildly sedated, just a little strange about the edges when she grabbed him and hugged him in the corridor, not Beatrice's maternal habit. Then she got a fistful of his hair and looked him closely in the eyes with,
"You've given us a problem. You've given Austin one."
"What was I to do? He'd been looking at the cans. And pardo
"He won't thank you."
"Pity."
He started to leave. Beatrice didn't let go her fistful of hair. "Christian. Keep your mouth shut. It will die down. We can leave this fool at Pell… send him to Earth, for that matter, and he won'tfind his way back."
"It won't die down. There's too broad a trail, and there's that woman…"
"Shit on that woman!"
"Shit on the whole situation, I—"
The door of Austin's office whisked aside. Austin loomed in the doorway. "Get in here!"
"Who, me?" He honestly wasn't sure, and mimed it. Austin grabbed him by the arm, jerked him through the door, and backhanded him hard into the wall, which left him nursing a sore ear and a personal indignation.
"It's not my damn fault!"
"Why could somebody just walk into the warehouse? Where in hell was the guard?"
"Millers' had people on duty, but they had to have somebody sign the damn repair order, I didn't know they were going to leave the office unlocked…"
Austin took a glancing swipe at him, total disgust. "All you had to do was have a guard on that door."
"I know that."
"You know that, sir, damn your impudence! You look to inherit Corinthian? You're a long way from it, at the rate you're going! We'll be lucky not to lose this port, andMiller, and all they do for us, you understand that? Does that remotely affect your social interests?"
"I was busting my ass, sir, getting Miller moving. I got us turned around, we just can't use any damn deckhand that comes along. We're loading, we're going as fast as the loader can roll, I've sent out the board-call. The only thing I didn't predict was Miller's man deciding to take a walk and leave the damn door unlocked—"
"Try predicting what we're going to do when the cops show up wanting Thomas Hawkins! Does that fit in your crystal ball? Spritecrew is all over the damn dock out there!"
"Looking for Marie, by my sources. Not interested in calling the cops, no more than we are. They're asking up and down the row, every bar, showing her picture. They probably think he's with her."
"Damn lucky they didn't arrest half the crew."
"I hear luck had nothing to do with it."
"Expensive luck. I'm not in a damned good mood, boy. Nobody's coming through those access doors or near our lock. Damned elusive woman. Damned persistent—and you snatch her kid? Thanks. Thanks a whole lot. It's just the luck we needed."
"Dump him in space. It's no different than leaving him lie in a warehouse full of cold cans. He was taking a tour of Miller's premises, for God's sake, it wasn't my doing, I don't know what more I could do than I did… if I'd left a body behind, you wouldn't be happy with me either, especially seeing he's your own offspring,—sir. I wouldn't want you to get the idea I wanted him dead."
"You're real close to a
"I did what seemed to me to be less liability."
"After you finally deigned to return a com call. After you gave that ship that much extra time to let Marie Hawkins loose on the dock."
"It's not my fault the transport broke down. It's not my fault everything on this God-forsaken station depends on some separate labor union—I could have fixed that damn transport with a screwdriver, Millercould have fixed the transport, we didn't know we had an emergency, and I wasn't that hard to track down, sir, I'd told Miller where I was and what general direction I was going. You could have called Miller."
"Miller isn't an officer on this ship. Damned right I called Miller, once Bianco saw fit to tell me the offloading was stalled."
"You tell Bianco what you thought about it?"
"Bianco'd told you. Youwere the officer of the watch, boy, and if you have any desire to stay an officer on this ship, I suggest you establish clear understandings with the duty officer of each watch, that you take threats against this ship damned seriously, that you don't screw with the guard I've put on our accesses, because I don't take for granted that woman won't try to slip us a bomb in one of the cans or walk onto this ship armed, do you hear me?"
"Yes, sir, but—"
"As long as they're searching for her… she hasn't gone to the cops or reported in. Just keep those cans moving. And let me tell you something—" Austin went to the door and opened it again. "Beatrice? Beatrice, I want you to hear this, too."
Beatrice came in… subdued, for Beatrice. She folded her arms and stood there glumly.
"I don't know how seriously you take the threat Marie Hawkins poses," Austin said. "But twenty years of threats and her skulking around out there don't add up empty in my book. She's got this kid—by her own letters, she's primed this kid of hers to get us, meaning the crew, andparticularly anybody attached to me. That kid stays in the brig. Nobody takes chances with him. I'm damned serious, Beatrice."
"What do you intend to do with him?"
"Take him as far away from Spriteschedules as we can."
"No paternal interest."
"Filed right behind your maternal instincts, Beatrice, don't push me. Tell your offspring use his head. I am tired. I am hung over… Beatrice, this wasn't the best wake-up I've had in a year."
Beatrice moved in for aid and comfort. It seemed a good moment to excuse oneself out the door. Christian slid in that direction, opened the door—Austin had it set on fast, and auto-dose—and walked—
"Boy. Don't screw up."
—out. The door whisked shut in his face, leaving him blank surface instead of the pair that were ultimately responsible—leaving words in his mouth, and nowhere to spit them.
He didn't hit the door. Or open it. He dropped the fist and walked the curving deck, headed for the lift.
He'd ordered the dockside crew to keep an eye out, see if they could spot this Hawkins woman—keep her off Austin's neck. No damn thanks from Austin, Austin never asked, Austin never looked to see who did what, it was just your fault if something went wrong.