Shadowkill

2

A gnat among the swarming transports, the ship slid into one of the outermost slots of the orbitpark and settled to wait.

Three hours later there was a tentative flicker on his screen, then a harried face appeared in the center cell. “You haven’t logged in.”

Ginny waved the Pilot to silence and answered himself. “This is the Caprisi Kumar out of Blagn. I claim emergency status, glitch in the splitter. My engine crew are working on it at the moment. The chief is sure the matter can be rectified without outside help, so I have no reason at the moment to bother you down there. I just want a place to perch until the repairs are effected. You may have noticed there aren’t that many systems about.” He rambled on for several minutes longer repeating in other words and a dull monotone what he’d just said, watching the Controller’s eyes glaze over.

Pushed to desperation, the man interrupted him. “Right. Emergency. Be sure you let us know if you’re going to move again.” The screen went gray.

Ginny smiled.

The Pilot raised her blonde brows. “That was easy.”

He slid out of the Captain’s Chair, stood with his hands on the arm. “It is all Traffic Control can do to keep the incoming and outgoing ships apart and at the same time juggle the shuttle slots. They are not about to challenge anyone who provides a reasonable excuse. I will be busy the next few hours, Mertoyl, same story for anyone who gets bothered by our presence.”

He transferred to the workstation, watched the shuttle traffic carefully, chose a moment when the confusion gave even him a headache and dropped a shell to the surface, its tiny fields lost in the soup. It curved through the thin cold air, went to ground over the horizon from the headquarters complex and the clustered mud-colored domes of the Levy Pens.

He shut it down and waited. One hour. Three. No reaction.

He cracked the shell, sent the EYEs flitting toward the Complex, ticks and borers piggy-backed on them.

The EYEs were tiny and relatively slow. It was nine days before they reached their target.

He spent a day exploring the outside of the massive headquarters building and another day insinuating the EYEs through outvents.

Down and down he sent them until they reached the memory banks of the Company kephalos.

For four more days he explored the hardware until he was sure he knew the configuration, then he flew the EYEs where he wanted them and offloaded the ticks and the borers.

And waited.

Nine hours later data began flowing into his kephalos, keyed by Shadith’s cell print. A few clucks and a click and the flow stopped.

He triggered the secondary programs in his tiny vermin army, shifted to the Captain’s Chair and called the Pilot to the bridge. “Be ready,” he said. “Say nothing, just take us out on the route I planned.”

He called Control. “Glitch repaired. Departing now.” The screen lit again. “Wait. What sector?”

“Take grid?”

“Send.”

He tapped the sensor that sent his proposed exit route. He’d worked it out with considerable care, keeping to the least busy sector. It meant he headed nearly straight up, hitting the Limit at a wide angle from the orbital plane. Made navigation difficult once he was in the ’split, but it was more likely to be approved without argument.

“Path approved. Do not deviate, three transport convoys will be surfacing within the next five hours; approach the ecliptic and you will be warned then blown away.”

“Information received. Will not deviate.”

Ginbiryol Seyirshi sat in the Captain’s Chair and smiled at the image of the world dropping away behind him.

In about thirty hours Bolodo Neyuregg Ltd would be out of business again. And Helvetia would be most annoyed if Weersyll accessed it at any time during that thirty hours-which was more than likely considering how busy the place was.

There is a disease about, he thought as he watched the sphere shrink, warn your sexpartners, you posy whore.

Miralys / Digby 2