Angelmass

CHAPTER 29

The equipment list came up, scrolling down the screen; and beside Kosta, Gyasi gave a low whistle.

"Holy scud, Jereko," he said. "It's going to take all that?"

"Looks like it," Kosta conceded, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he ran his eye down the list. A couple of the items there he could probably sneak out for a few days without anyone noticing. But not all of them. Not a chance.

"What's that, your equipment list?" Chandris asked, swiveling around from the terminal she'd been working on.

"That's it," Gyasi confirmed. "And it might explain why no one's ever seen an anti-angel before. Half this stuff didn't even exist the last time anyone went out hunting for one."

"And it might as well not exist now for all the good it's going to do us," Kosta added sourly. "We're never going to be able to collect all this."

"Anyone ever tell you you give up too easily?" Chandris chided, coming over and standing over him, leaning forward to peer at the display. "The big question is whether we can fit it all aboard the Gazelle."

"Is the Gazelle going to be able to fly any time soon?" Kosta countered.

"The damage assessment's mostly done," she said. "The refit's going to take some serious work, but it's nothing a good maintenance crew can't handle."

"Sure, but how long will it take?"

"That one is a problem," Chandris said reluctantly. "Maintenance hasn't even got it scheduled yet; but from the size of their current work list my guess is they won't get to it for at least a month.

Maybe more."

Kosta shivered. "We can't afford to wait that long," he said. "Someone else is bound to get killed before then."

"Then our other option is to contract it out," Chandris said. "Get a private firm in to do the work."

"Can you do that?" Gyasi asked. "I thought Gabriel handled all huntership maintenance."

"Officially, it does," Chandris said. "As a practical matter, no one's going to complain if we do it ourselves and save them the expense."

"And how high is that expense likely to be?" Kosta asked.

Chandris's mouth twitched. "High enough," she said.

"How high?"

"You let me worry about that." She waggled a finger at his equipment list. "You worry about how you're going to smuggle all this stuff out of here and aboard the Gazelle."

Kosta frowned up at her, a sudden suspicion twisting his stomach. The High Senator's angel...

She caught the look and sent back one of her own. "I said let me worry about it," she repeated, her tone warning him to drop it.

Gyasi cleared his throat. "I think I'll go to the lab and see what equipment Dr. Qhahenlo's got on hand," he said. Getting up from his chair, he escaped from the room.

"You can't steal Forsythe's angel," Kosta growled, swiveling around so that he could face Chandris better.

"Why not?" Chandris retorted. "Is one angel worth more than however many people Angelmass will kill in the next two months?"

"Of course not," Kosta ground out. "But if you get caught, the whole thing blows up and they die anyway." He hesitated. "And then you'll be in trouble, too."

Her lip twisted sardonically. "I didn't think you cared."

Kosta's first impulse was to turn away from her, to back off the way he always did. But for once, and to his own mild surprise, he stood his ground. "Of course I care," he said quietly. "I also care about Hanan and Ornina. They've put themselves on the line for both of us. We can't let them down."

Chandris drew herself up. "We won't," she said firmly. "How soon can you get that stuff together?"

Kosta looked at the list again. "I don't know," he said. "A couple of days, maybe."

"All right," Chandris said. "Let's call it three days. I'll have the Gazelle ready to fly by then."

Kosta looked up at her again. "Be careful," he said.

"I will," she assured him. "Don't worry, I know what I'm doing."

She waved toward the door. "Come on, let's go get the angel. I need to get started, and you probably need to walk me out."

They were waiting outside the main entrance for the line car Kosta had called before Chandris spoke again. "Something else occurs to me," she said, her face invisible behind her blowing hair. "You said that the increased angel production might be accidental, a side effect of the radiation surges. You suppose it could also be deliberate?"

Kosta felt his throat tighten. "You mean as in Angelmass figuring out that the more angels it spits out, and the more anti-angels it absorbs, the smarter it gets?"

She hunched her shoulders. "So you thought of that, too. That's not a good sign."

"I know," Kosta agreed soberly. "Of course, it could just mean we're both wrong."

"It could also mean we're both right," she said. "We'd better get the Gazelle flying, and fast."

Kosta looked up at the stars blazing across the night sky overhead. "Yes," he said. "Let's."

The news report was a repeat, the third time today that this particular item had been shown. But Trilling Vail didn't mind. He watched it anyway, fingers resting on the cool glass of the display, keeping the sound turned down low so as not to wake the sleeping girl in the bed behind him. The camera zoomed in on the ambulance, and the stretcher the medics were rolling toward it.

And there she was, standing with her arm clutched around a fat old woman as the stretcher rolled past. There she was, just as beautiful and fragile and helpless as ever.

Chandris.

Trilling pressed his fingers harder against the glass, hungrily drinking in the sight of her. He'd tracked her here to Seraph just fine; but then the trail had unexpectedly died away. No one he'd talked to had admitted working with her, or seeing her, or even hearing of her, no matter how hard he pressed them. One of the koshes had finally admitted he knew where she was, but after he was dead Trilling had found out he'd been lying, just to get him to stop. He hated when people did that to him.

But none of that mattered anymore. She was here. Half a planet away from where he'd ended up, but that was nothing. She was here, and he was here, and as soon as he could get transport over to Magasca they would be together again. And then they could stay here, or go back to Uhuru, or do whatever they wanted. They would be together again. It would be just like old times.

The news report ended, and he switched off the set. Quietly, stealthily, he moved through the darkness of the room, listening to the slow breathing of the sleeping girl as he collected his belongings together. It didn't take long; there wasn't much there, and anyway he could score whatever he needed along the way. The cash was a different matter, and he took all of that he could find, making sure not to forget to check the pockets of the girl's jeans hanging lopsidedly on the chair at the foot of the bed.

Finally, he was ready. He doubted any transports would be heading toward Magasca at this time of night, but it was a bit of a walk to the depot anyway, and he was eager to get started. Soon he and Chandris would be together again.

He zipped up his bag and stepped to the side of the bed. The girl was an amazingly sound sleeper, he realized, or else just couldn't hold her reeks very well. They hadn't been together long; it had only been about two weeks since he'd waltzed her off the streets and started teaching her the tricks of the trade. With her bright face and winning voice she had a lot of potential, and more than once he'd thought she would be worth hanging onto until he found Chandris.

But now that was over, of course. Setting down his bag, he leaned over the girl and got his hands around her throat.

She was a sound sleeper. She never even woke up before she died.

Trilling picked up his bag again and stepped to the door, feeling a twinge of regret. But he'd had no choice. He was a one-woman man, and Chandris was a one-man woman, and now that he'd found her there could never again be anyone between them. He'd had no choice.

Opening the door, not looking back, he headed out into the night.