Empire of Light

Chapter Sixteen

The Mjollnir's bow was blunt and rounded, with a thick bulge one-third of the way back, concealing an internal centrifuge that could be spun up to provide artificial gravity. She tapered slightly towards the stern, before flaring out again to accommodate fusion drives powerful enough to push her halfway across a solar system in just days, at maximum burn. At the moment, however, she floated peacefully in orbit above Redstone, caged by a spider's web of pressurized maintenance bays that would be dismantled once the hull repair crews had finished their work.

'Bridge of Mjollnir to the approaching shuttles,' spoke a voice in Corso's ear. 'We need to confirm the details of your manifest. Who am I speaking to?'

Corso glanced at the three other figures seated behind him in the supply shuttle. Like him, they all wore bulky armoured spacesuits, although for the moment they had left their helmets off. He saw Leo Olivarri, Eduard Martinez and Dan Perez. Perez had been the Mjollnir's head of engineering until, like Nancy Schiller, he had been removed from his job for remaining loyal to Martinez.

Olivarri's boss, Ray Willis, was on a second shuttle following a parallel course to their own, which also carried Ted Lamoureaux, Nancy and Ty Whitecloud. The three members of the frigate's crew remained completely unaware that the man they knew as Nathan Driscoll was operating under an assumed identity.

Perez signalled with one hand, and Corso put the Mjollnir link on standby.

'Your name is Herera,' Perez instructed Corso. 'Victor Herera.'

'Why the hell is he asking?'

Perez shrugged. 'It'll be nothing more than a standard security precaution. And it's probably just shitty luck they picked on us.'

Corso reopened the comms link. 'Sorry, bridge, we're getting random system glitches. You're talking to Captain Herera, manifest five alpha zero.' He then added, 'Any problems up there?'

'No problems,' replied a bored-sounding voice at the other end. 'Security's been moved up a couple of notches this morning.'

'Any idea why?' Corso kept his voice casual.

'Damned if I know, but we're requesting you to dock at Bay Three, not Four. Sorry about that. Over and out.'

Corso cut the link and turned to look at the men behind him. 'Do you think they've worked out who we are?'

Perez's reply was blunt and to the point. 'If they had, Senator, we'd already be dead.'

Corso nodded and turned to face the viewscreens once more, while trying to ignore the tension growing in his chest. Whatever lingering doubts Corso still harboured about the Senate's intentions had vanished a few nights earlier, when Marcus Kenley had appeared at his Senate lodgings in a stolen taxi, its electronic brain hacked in order to prevent it from revealing either its occupant or its whereabouts. He brought with him the news that several of Corso's supporters in the Senate had been arrested during the past hour.

Corso had dressed in a hurry, and then discovered Kenley had also hacked the taxi's speed limiter, as the little vehicle accelerated with frightening speed, almost flipping on to its side at a sharp turn.

Following Jarret's defeat in the challenge, Kenley had been instrumental in setting up safe-houses around Unity, and before long they arrived at a colonial-style building on the outskirts of town. It was a huddle of old-fashioned pressure-domes like something out of a historical 'viro.

Griffith and Velardo were already there, using secure data-net connections to organize more extractions. Olivarri and Willis arrived with the morning, along with some late arrivals who had their own stories of close escapes from the Senate's police.

At first the public news networks told of chaos in the streets surrounding the Senate, but when the networks went offline Corso knew his worst suspicions had come true, and a counter-coup was under way. He kept himself awake throughout the next few nights with a steady diet of coffee and amphetamines, throwing himself into finalizing the details of a plan to take control of the Mjollnir before it could be removed from Redstone's orbital space.

Kenley went off and returned a few hours later with Dan Perez in tow; both men departed once again, this time accompanied by Ray Willis, on a mission to retrieve the Mjollnir's commander. They reappeared with Martinez some hours later, looking dirty and exhausted, Willis's face streaked with blood that was clearly not his own.

By then Whitecloud had been tracked down to a secure government building, but by the time someone went out to try and extract him, the residency building had been bombed and Whitecloud had vanished.

His subsequent reappearance in a Unity police station, kilometres away from the residency, raised questions that Corso did not have the time to try and answer. Sympathetic contacts within the Senate's own security services arranged for Whitecloud to be transferred to a less secure facility, where falsified documentation was all that was needed to extract him and bring him to the safe-house, to join with the rest of them.

But of far greater concern to Corso was Dakota's failure to show, even as the time to launch for the Mjollnir approached. He felt her absence like an ulcer throbbing in his guts, because without her everything he had planned was for nothing. He found his mood swinging between fury and despondency, and yet there was no way to contact her, not even through Lamoureaux after he also arrived at the safe-house.

At one point, looking up from where he had fallen asleep in front of a screen, Corso realized that more than seventy-two hours had passed since his narrowly escaping arrest. He looked around at the people sitting before other screens, or talking quietly on secure links, or sleeping on mats on the floor.

During the next twenty-four hours most of them would scatter, through Kenley's underground network, to other safe-houses, while a very few, himself included, would board a couple of shuttles in place of the team of engineers detailed to check final repairs to the Mjollnir.

That, at least, was the plan. But if Dakota didn't show, that could still undo everything they had worked towards. Corso activated the shuttle's interface, and saw they were only a few minutes away from docking with the frigate. He tapped on a screen before twisting around to face Martinez. 'I'm updating the other shuttle on a course change. But not the one the Mjollnir's expecting.'

'Senator?'

'If they're already on to us groundside, they could be diverting us into a trap. The last thing we need is to find ourselves facing an armed welcoming committee. Am I right in thinking each docking bay has an emergency override that can be triggered by an outside signal?'

'If you have the right signature code, yes,' Martinez allowed, 'but it's bound to tip them off that we're up to something.'

'It might be too late for that already. Give me the code anyway.'

Martinez sent him the code through their linked suit comms, while Corso glanced at the screen in front of him to watch the frigate growing larger by the second.

He punched in the course correction. 'Bay Five it is.' Sunlight broke over the rim of the planet below, filtered down to a soft glow by the shuttle's external sensor arrays. A screen showed clouds drifting over the Mount Mor peninsula, while the broad curve of coast along which Port Gabriel was located could be seen to the west. Approach warnings began to blink as the two shuttles neared a row of bay entrances close to Mjollnir's bow.

'Mjollnir to lead shuttle,' declared the voice from the frigate's bridge. 'You're heading the wrong way. Please get back on your original course.'

'We're having problems with our automatic guidance systems,' Corso improvised, 'and it can't lock on to your docking signal. We're trying to compensate for that, but it's tricky.'

He heard the officer at the other end of the link move away from the microphone to speak to someone else, but he couldn't make out any of their mumbled words before the first voice came back online. 'We've just queried your shuttle's on-board systems and they seem to be working fine. This is your final warning, Captain Herera. Now head for Bay Three.'

Corso put the link on hold and twisted around to look at his fellow passengers. 'Any ideas?'

Martinez shrugged. 'Fuck it, we're just thirty seconds from docking. Use the override to get the bay doors open and don't even bother replying. If they don't know who we are yet, they're sure as hell going to realize pretty damn soon that we're not the engineers they were expecting.'

Corso nodded, and punched in the override. A moment later the bridge of the Mjollnir came back online.

'Bridge to shuttle, rendezvous without boarding. Repeat, rendezvous without boarding, Captain Herera. Is that clear? Dock with the external maintenance bays, but not with the Mjollnir itself. If you board, we'll consider it a hostile action.'

Corso reached out and terminated the link. The Mjollnir seemed to rush towards them, blotting out the stars beyond. Now all that could be seen on the displays was a wall of grey metal expanding towards him.

A thin line of light appeared directly ahead, quickly growing wider as massive steel doors swung open to reveal the brightly lit interior of Bay Five.

Corso felt his body forced back into the seat as the shuttle decelerated hard, and he wondered if they were cutting it too fine. But before he had completed this thought they were already inside, automated grapples seizing the tiny ship and lowering it into a docking cradle.

The next step was critical: they had to disembark from the shuttle and get inside the frigate proper, before the crew on the bridge had a chance to react. Long, precious seconds passed while an airlock docked with the hatch in the shuttle's belly. They spent this time pulling on their helmets and securing them.

Corso knew there was a risk that Simenon might decide to dump the internal atmosphere and flush them out into space. Despite this concern, for the moment they kept their visors raised. It was easier to communicate face to face, and besides the helmets were designed to self-seal in case of a catastrophic loss of pressure.

Corso himself went through the airlock last, dropping only slowly in the zero gravity before emerging into a disembarkation lounge located right next to the bays. Behind him the bulkheads rumbled and shook as the second shuttle docked.

Martinez and the rest were already checking the seals on each other's suits. Corso checked Perez's suit, then Perez did the same for him. There was a clanging sound nearby, before, one by one, four passengers from the second shuttle dropped into the lounge, through a separate airlock.

Olivarri meanwhile deposited an oblong case on the shelf running along one wall, and opened it to reveal several lightweight pulse-rifles. He passed these out to everyone but Lamoureaux and White-cloud.

Martinez picked up a rifle, before stepping over to Corso and clapping him on the shoulder. 'You did a nice job getting us this far, Senator. But I think I'll take it from here.'

Martinez turned and called for everybody's attention.

'First, a reminder of what we can expect. Mjollnir is currently undergoing last-minute checks before departing for the Sol system, a day from now, with a full complement of crew that's expected to arrive here in no more than another three hours. In the meantime there's a minimal presence on board – I reckon a skeleton crew of no more than a dozen.'

'Why so few?' asked Lamoureaux.

'Because the main security contingent charged with guarding the frigate headed back down to the surface just under an hour ago. That leaves us a fairly narrow window of opportunity to take control and break from orbit. Mr Driscoll,' he turned to Whitecloud, 'you're going to head straight to the labs. Leo, escort him there and keep your eyes peeled. Don't engage anyone you run into if you can avoid it. Make sure first of all that the artefact's where it should be and report back if there's any problems or likelihood of delays.'

Corso watched the two men depart and felt his lips tighten in disapproval. He did not enjoy having to maintain this pretence regarding Whitecloud, or even having to act civilly towards him, and yet it was clear from his own research into Whitecloud's career that the man was quite brilliant. It was hard to believe someone with such a remarkable mind could have used it to perpetrate such terrible acts of inhumanity, but history was littered with just such men.

The rest of them then moved out of the lounge, and floated in pairs down a long shaft. Dan Perez and Nancy Schiller took point, while Ray Willis came last, guarding their rear. The ship was running at low power, so they proceeded through a strange half-twilight, their shadows racing in front of them like black ghosts whenever they passed a dimly glowing light fixture.

Corso swallowed and tried to ignore the fits of light-headedness that sometimes blurred his vision. He was still running on chemicals, and the last occasion he had actually slept seemed like part of another lifetime.

So much of what they had planned hinged on various assumptions, particularly that the frigate's security overrides would have remained unaltered in the wake of Martinez's arrest. If they had been changed, however, the extra time taken up by burning or blowing their way through various sealed entrances might allow the security services enough time to muster a serious response.

Before he could ponder any further, they arrived at a transport terminal and boarded a cylindrical windowless car that carried them swiftly along a tunnel running the entire length of the frigate, and headed towards the centrifuge's hub.

They had managed to get this far. Surely, thought Corso, fate wouldn't be so cruel as to prevent them from reaching the bridge. The group disembarked shortly after, and found themselves in a cylindrical chamber six metres across and twice as much in length. It was situated at the axis of the centrifugal wheel that spun constantly to provide Mjollnir 's bridge and main crew quarters with artificial gravity.

Four colour-coded doors were set into the central third of the chamber, which revolved independently of the rest. These doors opened on to shafts radiating outwards from the chamber, each one leading into the centrifuge's inner rim. No one was surprised to find the emergency locks on all four doors had been engaged.

Corso watched as Nancy Schiller floated forward to grab a handhold next to one door, pulling herself in close as it dragged her around. She used her teeth to pull off a glove, then reached out to tap at a screen set into the door itself.

'Fuck, it's not responding,' she announced. 'My codes are no good.'

Icy fingers twirled inside Corso's belly.

'I'll give it a try,' said Martinez.

He grabbed a handhold next to another door, as it swept by, and tapped at this door's screen. After a few moments the outline of a hand appeared, against which Martinez pressed his palm, and the door hissed open in response.

We're in, thought Corso, and realized he had been holding his breath the whole time. There were sighs of relief and whispered prayers from the others.

He floated forward, grabbing another handhold next to the door Martinez had opened, and suddenly it was the station that was spinning while he remained stationary.

'I thought there were supposed to be elevators,' he grumbled to Martinez. He could feel the tiniest pull of spin-g by now, and it would only get stronger the closer they came to the centrifuge's outer rim, seventy metres away.

'Blame our friends on the bridge,' said Martinez. 'Looks like we're going to have to climb all the way down.'

Martinez let go of his handhold and pushed over to the door Nancy had tried to open. Twenty seconds later this door also slid open, to reveal a second shaft.

'Dan, take the other shaft,' instructed Martinez, turning and lowering his legs past the open door. 'Nancy, Ray, you're going with him. When you get to the ring, approach the bridge from the spin-ward direction, and we'll come at it from the other side. But wait for our signal before trying to enter it. Senator, you're with me and Ted.'

Martinez took the lead, followed by Corso, with Lamoureaux coming last. The machine-head, Corso noted, now had a perpetually distracted look on his face, like someone who had forgotten something but couldn't quite remember what.

'Ted.'

Lamoureaux finally seemed to snap out of it. 'What?'

'Something worrying you?'

'No.' Lamoureaux shook his head, then shrugged. 'But I'm getting some weird distortion noise coming through my implants.'

'Anything we need to be concerned about?'

Lamoureaux thought for a moment. 'I don't know. Maybe not.'

The inside of the shaft was studded with handholds, but Corso wasn't used to heights, and he had to fight off tendrils of panic that accompanied the slow increase of the wheel's spin-g as they approached the ring. He focused instead on the steady rhythm of his movements, while keeping his eyes fixed on the wall directly before him.

By the time they arrived at the ring, the gravity was close on two-thirds standard. Their way was now blocked by the roof of the shaft's elevator car. Martinez used a single shot from his pulse-rifle to blow out an emergency hatch in the car's roof, before climbing down inside it.

Corso dropped down on top of the car and peered inside to see Martinez studying a panel next to the closed elevator doors. The panel looked blackened and melted.

Martinez looked up at him and shrugged. 'It's been shot to pieces, and we're going to have to go through the hard way. Got the explosives?'

'Can't you just yank the doors open?'

Martinez shook his head. 'These aren't your standard-issue elevator doors, Senator.'

Corso nodded, reached into his suit's thigh pocket and withdrew the dark, slim oblong of a putty-like material before passing it down to Martinez. Corso next motioned to Lamoureaux to climb a little way back up the shaft, before following him a moment later. A minute passed before Martinez himself clambered back out of the car and crouched as close to the wall of the shaft as he could get.

A dull crunch sounded, and a sharp, rattling vibration set Corso's teeth on edge.

A trail of thick, oily smoke drifted up from inside the elevator car. Martinez dropped back down inside and braced his shoulder against the doors, which were now bent and twisted out of shape. He thumped against them several times before they suddenly slid half-open with a discordant screech.

Light flashed from beyond the opening, sparkling on Martinez's shoulder and burning a dark circle into the fabric of his suit.

Corso yelled and dropped down through the roof of the car, as Martinez staggered backwards. Corso squeezed into the tight space and managed to fire off a couple of blind shots through the half-open door.

He heard a muffled thump, then silence.

'That was stupid of me,' gasped Martinez, who had fallen back, one gloved hand pressed against his shoulder.

Corso smelled burning flesh, and forced a surge of bile back down his throat. 'Shit, I think I might actually have got him,' he said, listening carefully.

He moved forward cautiously, turning sideways to squeeze between the two buckled doors and peer through the rank, oily smoke.

The lights inside the centrifuge ring were much brighter than throughout the rest of the ship. Corso edged forward until he almost stumbled across the body of a young woman slumped forward on the gently curving deck. One side of her face was burned and blackened, and her weapon lay nearby. Headshots from a pulse-rifle such as his own were invariably fatal.

He stood up and pulled his glove back on, but found to his surprise that his hands were shaking so hard it took a couple of attempts. He drew in a couple of deep breaths, and ignored the welter of regret and shame floating just under his thoughts. They still had to get to the bridge.

Hearing a grunt from behind, he turned to see Lamoureaux helping Martinez out through the elevator doors. Martinez spared the dead girl only a brief glance, but Lamoureaux stared at her corpse in open-mouthed horror.

'Let's get moving,' said Martinez, stepping on past the body.

Corso put a hand on his chest. 'Wait a second, you're not going anywhere. You've just been shot-'

Martinez met his gaze. 'Right now our priority is to get to the bridge. Soon as we're in control there, I can go to the med-bay. But not before.' The Mjollnir felt deserted without its full complement of crew. Like a ghost ship, Ty thought, as he and Olivarri moved along echoing passageways and down connecting shafts made eerie by silence and shadows.

They passed storage bays filled with towering steel racks that had clearly been newly installed while he had still been held inside the Senate Residency. He saw new computer equipment, and observed that dozens of medboxes had been slotted into some of the racks. Many more were piled on giant pallets that filled up much of the remaining space within the bay.

They moved on, soon reaching the laboratory complex, which was sealed off from the rest of the ship by its own airlock system. The labs were designed primarily for assessing planetary biospheres, and Ty was not surprised to find that they too had been overhauled and upgraded since he had last been there.

'Why all the precautions?' asked Leo, casting a wary eye around him. There were new cryogenic facilities that could be used for storing biological specimens, as well as for incubation and dissection. There were also airtight isolation booths for storing live samples, their interiors visible in a bank of monitors set into one bulkhead directly above the main interface.

Ty took a seat next to a console and pulled off his suit's gloves to log on. 'Remember the Mjollnir was primarily used as a colony ship,' he said without looking up. 'These labs were built so they could analyse alien flora and fauna. That means keeping them in strict isolation in case of any potential biohazards.' He nodded over his shoulder at the main airlock. 'You don't want to take the chance of the rest of the ship getting contaminated, if something nasty gets loose.'

'But a lot of this looks brand new.'

'Just like in those bays we passed,' Ty agreed. 'Hang on…'

A screen took up most of the wall directly above the console. A grid of images now appeared on it, each showing identical views of metal-grey rooms. All but one of these was empty.

'What are they?'

'Those are the isolation booths for storing larger samples,' Ty explained. 'The body I brought back is held in one of them.'

He looked around suddenly. 'What's that?'

'What?' said Olivarri.

'That noise.'

'I don't hear anything.'

'It sounds like… I don't know. Almost like singing.'

Olivarri just looked dumbfounded. 'I have no idea what you're talking about.'

Singing wasn't the right word for it, exactly. That would imply there was something pleasant about it, when in fact it was horribly abrasive. It was more like static, he decided, but barely at the edge of perception. After a moment it began to fade.

'You really didn't hear that?' Ty said, after it had passed.

Olivarri shrugged and shook his head. 'I really didn't hear anything. Maybe a problem with the comms?'

'Maybe.' Ty tapped at the interface once more and the empty booths disappeared, all except for the one containing the Atn's remains, which now expanded to fill the screen.

'That's it.' He turned to Olivarri. 'That's the reason we're here.'

Leo let out an incredulous laugh. 'You're fucking kidding me. That's what we've been fighting for? It looks like a pile of junk.'

'Appearances can be deceptive.'

A pile of junk was a fair description, Ty realized. But inside it might just be found the one thing that could bring down an entire civilization. Corso and Lamoureaux supported the wounded Commander and helped him along the passage. As they walked, they passed archways leading aside into mess halls and recreational areas, all of them now deserted. Thick, lush vegetation grew from pots placed at every metre or so, all tended by small, delicate-looking machines that climbed in between branches or vines.

They kept their weapons at the ready, but met no further resistance. Before very long they reached the door leading into the bridge itself and found that it was, of course, sealed.

Martinez let go of them and slid down against one side of the passageway.

'Lucas,' he instructed, his face pale and slick with sweat, 'radio the others now. Don't worry about breaking silence. We just need to know if they're in position yet.'

Corso established contact with Nancy Schiller and she delivered a brief report. He then asked her to send Ray Willis to join them.

'They had a clear run all the way around the far side of the wheel,' he told Martinez and Lamoureaux. 'The bridge is sealed around the other side as well.'

'Why do we need Willis here?' asked a puzzled Lamoureaux.

'In case you hadn't noticed, we're one man down,' Corso explained. 'Otherwise I'd be the only one on this side who's both armed and uninjured. There's three of them around the far side of the bridge, so they can easily spare Ray.'

'For what it's worth,' said Martinez with effort, 'I'm beginning to think there's a lot fewer people on board than we thought.'

'Maybe,' Lamoureaux suggested, 'they've got other people scattered throughout the rest of the ship. There's plenty of room to hide.'

'No, I think everyone left is on the other side of that door,' Martinez grunted, pushing himself a little more upright. He looked increasingly pale and frail. 'I'm going to try and persuade them to let us in.'

Martinez opened a command frequency to the bridge. As he spoke, his voice took on a deeper, solider timbre.

'This is Commander Eduard Martinez hailing whoever is currently on the bridge of the Mjollnir. Please respond.'

An unfamiliar voice burst out over their shared comms. 'I hear you, Mister Martinez. This is Luis Simenon, acting commander, addressing the boarders. You are committing an act of piracy and I demand you surrender your weapons.'

'Luis, I need you to open up the door. You're outnumbered, and you're already one woman down.'

'The last I heard, sir, you were under arrest for sedition. That means you don't have the authority any more to-'

'Mr Simenon,' Martinez thundered, 'the Mjollnir is still my commission. It'd take a special plenary meeting of the Senate to change that fact, and I don't recall hearing anything about one taking place. That means I have every right to board my own command, and yet your people actually fired upon me and my men. Whatever explanation you have, I'm sure it's bound to be fascinating.'

Simenon didn't respond for at least another thirty seconds, and when he came back he sounded cold but subdued, even apologetic. 'My orders come directly from the Senate security services, Commander, just as they did when I relieved you of command. There are fast-response teams on their way here, so I suggest you and your men surrender your weapons now, or suffer the consequences.'

'He's cut comms,' Martinez said a moment later.

'Is he telling the truth?' asked Corso.

'About the reinforcements? Sure. There's a couple of orbital platforms that can launch police boats in a hurry, plus there are tactical teams on permanent standby on the ground.' He nodded towards a screen flush with the door's surface. 'Help me over there and let's see if I can get us through that entrance.'

Corso got an arm under Martinez's shoulder and helped him over to the door just as Ray Willis arrived, his rifle slung over one shoulder. He was panting heavily, having just run the entire way around the centrifuge from the opposite side of the bridge.

'I saw a body,' Willis gasped. 'Was there any…?' He stopped when he saw Martinez.

'We ran into some trouble,' said Corso.

Willis nodded, his chest still heaving. 'Door's locked round the other way as well,' he said, 'though we didn't run into anyone. Nancy's ready to blow it open on your signal.'

Corso nodded and checked his pulse-rifle. Its battery was at half capacity. Weapons such as these were only good for about a dozen shots before their batteries were completely drained, but they were cheap and easy to manufacture.

He nodded to Willis, who moved to one side of the bridge entrance, his back to the wall and his rifle held close to his chest.

'Visors down, everyone,' said Corso, taking up position opposite Willis. 'Ted, get the Commander safe to one side as soon as he's done.'

Martinez finished entering his code into the screen, but didn't activate the door. Corso warned Nancy to be ready, then waited until Martinez was out of harm's way before leaning over to touch a panel on the screen that read CONFIRM.

The door slid open a moment later, to the sound of shouting from inside.

'Now,' Corso barked into his comms.

Willis twisted at the waist, aimed the barrel of his rifle through the open door and fired off several shots. Almost at the same moment there was an enormous thump from somewhere inside, followed by more yelling and scuffling.

Willis ran inside, Corso following a moment later.

The first thing Corso noticed was the buckled remains of the door on the far side of the bridge. One of the Mjollnir's crew lay facedown near the interface chair positioned at the bridge's centre, a pulse-rifle just beyond his outstretched hand.

Willis was barking orders at a uniformed man and woman who had sheltered behind a comms console. They stood up uncertainly and dropped their weapons, clearly shaken.

The noise and confusion was tremendous, as black smoke rose up to collect under the smooth dark dome of the bridge's ceiling.

Nancy kept her rifle levelled at an unarmed man, dressed in the clothes of an orbital dock-worker, who was hiding behind another console, while Perez had his aimed at a man in the uniform of a deck officer, his shoulder and one side blackened from a pulse-rifle shot. The officer was sitting next to a console, a pistol gripped in one hand, but pointed at the deck as if momentarily forgotten.

Simenon, Corso guessed. He looked dazed, as if he wasn't sure where he was.

Corso trained his own weapon on Simenon's head, while Perez inched forward, barking at him to drop his pistol and get down on the deck. Instead Simenon seemed to remember where he was and took a two-handed grip on the pistol, but without raising it.

'Drop the fucking gun!' Perez screamed.

Simenon breathed hard through his nostrils and shook his head emphatically, even though Corso could see he was completely terrified. 'You won't stand a chance when the response teams get here,' he replied, his voice cracking.

'It's over, Luis,' Perez yelled. 'Drop the gun, and you can take these people back down. Do you understand? Drop the fucking gun now or-'

Simenon shook his head emphatically, the motion almost like a tic, and he brought his pistol up quickly to aim at Perez.

Corso fired off a single shot that hit Simenon square in the side of the head. There was a distinct crack as his brain boiled, the pressure fracturing his skull.

He tumbled to the deck, his legs folding under him as if a puppet's strings had been cut.

Corso put his rifle down and pulled off his helmet. The air now smelled a lot worse than when wearing it.

'You okay?' asked Schiller, eyeing him. She'd herded the dock-worker over to join the rest.

'You know what Simenon just did?' Corso replied. 'He killed himself.'

Schiller looked confused.

'With all due respect, Senator,' said Perez, 'what the fuck are you talking about?'

'He was put in charge of a major military asset, and lost it,' Corso explained. 'He's probably got family, and they'd have been left with nothing if he'd just surrendered.'

Perez shrugged. 'So?'

So it's wrong. So it's completely, utterly fucked up, Corso wanted to yell. But Perez was still a Freeholder born and bred, so he just shook his head and dropped the subject.

Corso went over to the three survivors, now lying face-down on the deck, guarded by Schiller and Willis. Perez activated the bridge's comms console, and a moment later Martinez and Lamoureaux entered and surveyed the scene.

'You,' Corso demanded, nudging the prisoner in overalls with one booted foot. 'What's your name?'

The man in overalls twisted his head around slightly to face Corso.

'Inez Randall,' he muttered. 'I'm an engineer,' he explained, 'for the-'

'Listen up, Inez,' Corso instructed him. 'Take your two friends here, head for Launch Bay Five, take one of the shuttles there, and get off this ship as fast as you can. Don't do anything stupid or heroic, because you'll only wind up dead, do you understand me?'

Randall nodded.

'All right,' said Corso. 'Get up, all three of you. Move.'

They stood hesitantly and Corso finally got a good look at them. These were nothing more than raw junior officers who had just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. They had obviously been brought on to the frigate to run the final checks on the ship's primary systems.

'Is there anybody else on board?' Corso asked them.

They exchanged nervous glances. 'Just us,' said Randall.

Corso studied the man and decided he was telling the truth. 'Then get moving.' He waved the barrel of his rifle towards the blown-open entrance. 'Now.'

Once they were gone, Corso sat down heavily in a chair and pulled off his glove to run one hand through his sweat-soaked hair. He watched as Schiller and Willis carried the two corpses out of the bridge, dumping them on the deck just beyond the undamaged entrance. Lamoureaux meanwhile helped Martinez on to a low couch set against one wall, then himself stepped over to the interface chair.

'Ted,' he began. Lamoureaux glanced over at Corso, as the chair's petals folded down to allow him access. 'Keep an eye on those three, and make sure they head straight for the shuttles. Also get in touch with Leo, and check if he made it to the labs okay.'

Lamoureaux nodded, peeling his suit off and dropping it to the deck before taking his position. Corso pulled his own suit off and draped it over a console.

'There's an evac order going through the maintenance bays around the frigate,' Perez reported from the comms console. 'I heard from Leo already: everything is right where it should be, according to Driscoll.'

Corso nodded and turned to Martinez. 'Okay, Commander,' he said, taking the other man's arm. 'Med-bay for you. Nancy, will you help him there?'

Nancy Schiller nodded and helped Martinez slowly out of the bridge.

'There are some fast boats moving into orbit,' Lamoureaux reported. Corso glanced over and noticed how he'd left the chair's petals unfolded, and was now staring at somewhere far away. 'I don't know if we can manage to break orbit before they get within range. Maybe I can… oh shit.'

Corso stood up, alarmed. 'What is it?'

Lamoureaux licked his lips, drumming his fingers on the armrests of the interface chair. 'It's Dakota… or her ship, at least. It just showed up out of nowhere, coming in fast. She's… hang on.'

Corso waited, suddenly tense. 'I just heard from her,' Lamoureaux continued. 'She'll be on board in the next couple of minutes.'

'That doesn't solve the problem of those boats coming our way,' said Perez. 'Those things have some serious fucking firepower, Senator, and we haven't even had a chance to break orbit.'

'Ted-' Corso began.

'I already initiated a hard burn,' Lamoureaux replied, 'but it takes time to get a ship this size moving.'

'Just how long?'

Lamoureaux leaned back against the headrest, his eyes squeezed shut. 'The drive-spines are currently only at half-charge. That means it's going to be at least a couple of hours before we'll be able to jump out of this system. Ah shit, that's no… hang on.'

He leaned forward suddenly, shook his head and blinked his eyes wide. 'We've got two armed corvettes approaching on an intercept course,' he said. 'They must have already been in orbit.'

It hit Corso like a punch in the stomach that, without Dakota's help, they were going to die. Lamoureaux couldn't save them but, with the aid of her ship, Dakota could. Suddenly their hastily assembled plan to hijack the Mjollnir looked as precarious as a house of cards in an earthquake.

Then he realized something was wrong with Lamoureaux. He sat bent forward in the interface chair, clutching at one side of his head with a pained expression.

Corso stepped forward quickly, catching him before he could fall out of his seat. The navigator's skin had turned pale and waxy.

'What the hell is going on?' said Perez.

'I don't know,' Corso snapped, pulling himself up on to the dais to help Lamoureaux back properly into the seat. 'Ted, what is it?'

When he replied, Lamoureaux sounded groggy, unfocused. 'I don't know. It was like there was this enormous pressure inside my head and… oh, damn.'

The bends, thought Corso; his Magi-boosted implants were finally burning out his cortex.

Corso moved out of the way as Lamoureaux leaned forward, and to one side, and vomited noisily on to the deck. Corso held him by the shoulder and ignored the shocked expression on Perez's face.

'Where's Olivarri?' Corso demanded.

Perez stepped over to another console, and Corso watched Perez's face change from orange to blue as the console's display flickered with bright colours. 'He's on his way here,' Perez replied after a moment. 'I'm reading him as just entering the wheel.' He reached out and tapped at the screen again. 'I can activate the external feeds from here.'

A moment later the dark bowl of the bridge's ceiling filled with stars and with the broad curve of the planet below, along with a simulation of the Mjollnir as it would appear at a distance of a few kilometres. Smoke from the explosion had already been sucked away by the ventilation system.

Corso could see the fine network of work-bays and pressurized cabins surrounding the frigate, and several tiny craft moving steadily away from it. One was a shuttle carrying Simenon's skeleton crew, while the rest undoubtedly contained the engineers and repair specialists who had been working on the hull until the order to evacuate.

According to a string of data floating next to the frigate it was indeed under way, but its speed was still relatively incremental despite the enormous amount of energy flowing out of the fusion drives.

'Any sign of Dakota's ship?' asked Corso, still holding Lamoureaux upright. He appeared to be barely conscious.

'I think she's on the frigate's far side,' Perez replied. 'One moment.'

The starscape overhead wheeled suddenly, spinning around by a hundred and eighty degrees. Now Corso could see a Magi ship rapidly approaching. It looked, as ever, like some creature born to live between the stars, its forward-reaching drive-spines like the grasping tentacles of a monstrous sea-creature.

Lamoureaux's head flopped against Corso's arm, and he grasped the machine-head under one shoulder and guided him down from the interface chair. Perez helped drag him over to one of the couches lining the walls of the bridge.

Leo Olivarri suddenly appeared, looking breathless. He glanced from Lamoureaux to Corso with a questioning expression.

'Leo,' said Corso. 'I need you to get Mr Lamoureaux here to the med-bay.'

Olivarri nodded and came over, clearly recognizing this was no time for questions. Lamoureaux's skin was clammy but together they managed to get him back on to his feet. He gradually seemed to become a little more aware of his surroundings, and then Olivarri helped him out of the bridge.

Perez looked worried. 'Senator, without someone manning the interface chair, we're going to be at a very serious disadvantage.'

Corso sucked in a breath and turned back to study the overhead projection. By now the Mjollnir had mostly passed out of the orbital dock, while the Magi ship had drawn abreast of it. The two hostile corvettes, identified by icons floating beside them, were still a few thousand kilometres distant.

Another string of data appeared directly between the Magi ship and the frigate, marking a single blip moving quickly across the gap between the two craft.

That's her, Corso thought. But why was she leaving her ship? Surely she was intending to accompany the Mjollnir from inside her own vessel?

'Senator.' Corso turned to Perez. 'We have pulse-weapons mounted on the hull, but we've had to divert most of their power to the fusion drives. Unless you can come up with something very soon, we're going to be sitting ducks for those corvettes.'

Corso nodded, and stepped forward until he stood directly underneath the projection of the Mjollnir. It looked real enough to make him feel he could reach up and touch it. He watched as the blip representing Dakota reached one of the frigate's external airlocks, and disappeared from sight.

'Dan, patch me into the frigate's general address system. Dakota just came on board, and I want to be sure she hears me.'

'Patching you in now,' Perez replied, his hands sliding rapidly across the surface of his console. 'One moment and I'll have a visual on her.'

The Mjollnir and the surrounding starscape began to shrink overhead, as if receding at enormous speed. In its place appeared a larger-than-life image of Dakota, now inside an airlock already halfway through its opening cycle.

She was naked, but her skin was coated in what looked like thick black oil, her eyes gleaming and alien-looking. She had a bag slung across one shoulder, out of which she pulled a jumpsuit.

Corso glanced over at Perez and saw a censorious look on his face. It was hard to remember that he too had been that buttoned-down before he first left Redstone.

Overhead, Dakota pulled on the jumpsuit, the black slick coating on her skin draining away. She glanced briefly towards the microscopic lens buried in one wall of the airlock with a sardonic smile, and Corso felt his face redden.

'Dakota, if you can hear me, we need you on the bridge right now. We've got a couple of corvettes approaching and Ted's-'

She had stepped out of the airlock and was now pushing her way down a connecting shaft towards the centrifuge hub. 'I know about Ted,' she replied, as if addressing the air. 'Just hang on. I'll be there soon.'

Dakota disappeared from the overhead display, replaced by the previous view of the local starscape. The corvettes had by now resolved into distinct shapes.

'We're being signalled by one of the corvettes,' Perez announced. 'They're warning us to shut down the engines or they'll start shooting.'

'Bullshit,' Corso heard himself say. 'They're bluffing. This is the only colony-class ship the Senate has left.'

'Maybe so, Senator, but if whoever ordered those corvettes to come after us lets us get away, he's going to face a firing squad, or at least a challenge from a queue of subordinates. Blowing a hole in our side might look like a safer bet, with that in mind.'

Damn you, Dakota. How long could it take to get to the centrifuge hub, then to the bridge?

'They must know there's no way we can just stop the acceleration. Even if we shut down the fusion drive, and used the manoeuvring systems to push us back, it'd be hours before we could come to a halt relative to the docks.'

'Look, Senator,' said Perez, 'I'm not necessarily counselling surrender, but if they do fire on us, they could cripple us, or a lot worse.'

Corso shook his head and licked suddenly dry lips. 'No. We keep going. Don't respond to their messages.'

'They're getting ready to fire on us,' Perez retorted, growing visibly angrier and stepping out from behind the console, with bunched fists. 'They're letting us see their targeting systems to make sure we know exactly what they're intending. Senator, if we don't signal them now and agree-'

Perez stopped abruptly at a sudden bright flare of light from the overhead display. Corso looked up to see that several pale spheres had now appeared between the frigate and the two approaching corvettes.

Except the corvettes weren't there anymore.

'What-?' Perez stopped and turned back to the console, staring down at its softly glowing surface as if he couldn't believe his eyes. 'They just… hang on.'

Perez replayed what had just happened. They both watched as bright beams of light flickered out from the spheres, tearing the two ships apart.

Dakota entered the bridge at that same moment, looking breathless. Perez stared up again at the overhead display, then at her, clearly putting two and two together.

'Tell me everything I need to know,' she said, stopping briefly to draw breath at the edge of the dais supporting the interface chair.

'We're breaking orbit,' Corso told her. She dropped her bag on the floor next to the dais and pulled herself up and into the interface chair. 'But it's taking too long,' he warned.

Dakota nodded, and Corso watched the intense way her small white fists gripped the chair's armrests.

She closed her eyes and for a few moments fought to steady her breathing, then nodded tightly. 'I'm going to ramp the drive up for a premature jump. If we can get out of range of the orbital defence systems, we might be able to take our time before making a longer jump.'

Corso watched as the petals surrounding the interface chair began to fold up around it, surrounding Dakota in silent darkness. He could feel the frigate's acceleration beginning to bite. Much like the Mjollnir's sister-ships, its centrifuge could be spun down during periods in which it was performing an extended hard burn, when each of the living spaces contained within it rotated on massive hydraulics so that the acceleration provided a comfortable level of gravity. When the acceleration ceased and zero gee returned, the centrifuge could once again be spun up.

He glanced back up at the projected starscape. The Magi ship that had brought Dakota to the frigate was slipping out of range. It was also beginning to slowly spin as if out of control, edging towards the delicate filigree of the orbital dock the Mjollnir had now left behind. Something was wrong. Dakota.

Her eyelids trembled, then opened on to nothing.

'What is it, Lucas?' she asked, the sound of her own voice close and flat within the confined space.

Your ship, what's happening to it?

'I don't have any choice,' she replied in a half-whisper.

Don't have any choice about what?

'About leaving it behind.'