Tripoint

Nothing like this on Sprite.

Nothing like this on any honest ship. It wasn't lower-main corridor, at least: off the axis but not much off, you could feel the slant in the deck. It was for keeping someone locked up whilethe ship was docked: half the heated, pressurized deck space a ship owned became vertical while the ring was de-spun and locked to some station's orientation. You didn't give up a centimeter of downside deck space to a facility that wasn't ma

You did get the skuz of the spacer trade among hire-ons, they had that universal reputation. A Family ship very rarely took one or accepted a passenger, and that only after careful background checks and an oath from God that the individual was trustworthy. But this… this place, occupying valuable dock-positive space, was built to contain people the ship didn't intend to turn over to station authorities, people who could try to break out and take over the ship. The cable arrangement meant you couldn't get further across the cell than they wanted you to go. The bracelet had a kind of lock he'd never seen before, a lever that shut, that had no wobble in it, no hint of how it opened.

He went back and sat down on the bunk, and worked and worked at the lock in frightened silence.

There wasn't anything else to do. Wasn't any other hope. He didn't know if they'd caught Marie or if they were still looking for her. If he was held hostage—that was a joke.

He wasn't sure at this point that Marie wanted him back.

Justifiably.

—ii—

THE LOADING OPERATION WAS A steady flow of data on Austin's office monitor, a steady stream of canisters thumping through the cargo access port, contiguous at the moment with the passenger ring, so it sounded through Corinthian'sring structure like some monstrous heartbeat.

Machine parts was the principal load they were taking; also radioactives, medical and industrial, transshipped; chemicals, organic and otherwise; minicans of rejuv, lately legal, tapes, transshipped; minicans of personal goods and small commercial freight, transshipped and some originated at Viking—no mail: they hadn't a bond for that, and he didn't want the background check. But this was the payout cargo, this was the one where Miller bought on spec and they rebought, and sold at their destination; this was the one that paid the bills and kept them ru

The further you got from Earth the pricier Earth goods got, simple proposition, but the further you got from civilization, the pricier, too, the sweet taste of the motherworld. And pay they would, in credit and in various ways.

If—

Com beeped. " Excuse me, sir,"the voice said, from the bridge. " Marie Hawkins. On the com. For you. Do you want to take the call?"

Damn the woman!

Tell her go to hell? Let herhave the frustration?

Better hear the threats, he thought. Better give the woman the satisfaction. Five got ten she wasn'tcalling with Mischa Hawkins' blessing and go-ahead. The woman was still on the docks somewhere. Corinthianhad gone on the boards as Departure: 1400h. And if she was out there—and he'd bet she was—she knew.

"Quillan?"

"Sir?"

"She's at a phone. Probably within sight of our dockside. Get a team looking."

Not a damned word from Mischa Hawkins. The cops hadn't arrested anybody after the set-to, just tagged the ships involved and a judge had slapped both Corinthianand Spritewith thousand credit fines, with a warning.

Damned right a warning. "You keep your people clear," he'd phoned Spriteto say. "And we will."

" Aye,"Quillan said. " Put her through, sir?"

"Put her through," he said, and heard the click. "Marie Hawkins?"

" You son of a bitch,"Marie Hawkins said. " How are you, Austin?"

"Oh, getting along. How have you been?"

"Just fine. Alive. Saner than you'd like. I just wanted to call and thank you."

"That's nice." You wondered where she'd planted the bomb. Or if she knew they had her kid. "Did you have something more in mind? It's been a few years, Marie. Things got a little out of hand. I apologize for that."

"You're senior captain now. Congratulations. And a—is she your wife?"

"Nothing official. It's just not our style."

"Beatrice Perrault."

What in hellwas the woman after?

Beatrice at least was safe, on duty. Christian was below, inside the ship.

"Beatrice, yes. I hear you've moved up to cargo officer. Congratulations. How do you like the work?"

"Love it. I owe you so much. My start in life. My son."

Did she know? He had no idea.

"Would you like to come aboard, Hawkins? Have a drink, discuss mutual interests?" He didn't think so. Possibly she was taping the call, for playback to authorities. He didn't expect an acceptance. "There's time before undock. You've noticed we arepulling out."

" I've noticed,"Marie Hawkins said.

"So what about the drink? Apologies?"

"I don't think so."

She hung up. He shouldn't have pushed.

" Captain, we—"

"—didn't have time. Damn it, watch the frontage! If she's calling from one of the bars, we can still catch her. Haul her in, if you can do it without a fuss. Relay that."

" We're looking."

Damned crazy woman. Mischa Hawkins probably didn't know where she was, or they'd cheerfully reel her in. Spritewas on warning with station authorities, and Hawkins had sent one terse message: Call us if you have any contact with anySprite crew. Neither of us can afford this.

Nobody'd raised hell with station offices yet about the missing son—so they hadn't figured where ThomasHawkins was, yet. Probably they thought he was keeping company with Marie.

Which meant if they didn't find Marie, they couldn't know to the contrary; Marie probably thought her kid was with the group the cops had turned back to Spriteand told stay off the docks—Marie wasn't interested in being found, and so long as Marie stayed out of Sprite'sreach, nobody was going to know Thomas was missing.

If they couldn't catch her—she was still doing Corinthiana favor, just staying out there. Best hope they had of getting out of here.

—iv—

"CHRISTIAN."

Christian cut his eyes toward the overhead and leaned his back against the wall. Where it figuratively was, already, with Austin.

"Sir."

"You stay inside the ship. That's an order, boy."

"I was just going…"

"Maxie's seeing to it. I want a double-check on the warm-hold count. Get on it."

"That's Maxie's job!"

"See to it, damn you! I'm fall up with your excuses!"

"Yes, sir," he said, and when he heard the com click out, pounded the paneling with his fist.

Saby put her head out of ops and stared.

"What?"

"What, what, Austin's what, he's on my case, is what." He stalked to the office, shoved past Saby and sat down at the console.