Cibola Burn (The Expanse) (22 page)

“There is a group here. The same group that attacked and killed the RCE security team prior to your arrival. They plan to kill the remaining security people sometime in the next few days. Maybe as early as tomorrow night.”

Holden and Amos shared a quick look. “We’ve been expecting something like that,” Holden said. “But that’s not the important —”

Basia didn’t let him finish. “They also plan to kill you.”

Holden sat up a little straighter. He didn’t seem angry so much as offended.

“Me? Why would they want to kill
me
?”

“They think it will send a message,” Basia said, his tone apologetic. “Also, they’re mad about the explosives inspectors.”

“Told you,” Holden said to Amos. “A good compromise pisses everyone off.”

Without realizing he was going to do it, Basia grabbed the bottle off the table and took a long drink. It must have been something they had brought with them, because it was much better whiskey than anything the colony had access to. It warmed his throat and belly pleasantly, but didn’t calm him as much as he’d hoped. He pushed the bottle back toward Amos, but the big man stopped him. “You keep that, brother. You look like you need it.”

“What are you going to do?” Basia asked Holden.

“About the assassination? Nothing. It won’t matter because we’re all leaving.”

“We’re all —?”

“We’re evacuating the planet. All of us. Everyone.”

“No,” Basia said. “No one’s leaving. We can’t go now.”
I helped kill people to stay here.

“Oh, we
really
are,” Holden said. “Something very bad is happening on this planet, and it has nothing to do with obstinate Belters or sociopathic corporate security.”

Basia took another long drink from the bottle. The alcohol was starting to leave him a little fuzzy, but not any less anxious. “I don’t understand.”

“Somebody used to live here,” Holden said, waving one arm around. It took Basia’s drink-addled mind a moment to realize Holden didn’t mean the commissary. “Maybe they’re gone, and maybe they aren’t, but they left a lot of stuff behind and some of it’s waking up. So before we wind up being Eros with a great big sky, everyone is getting the hell out of Dodge.”

Basia nodded without understanding. Amos grinned at him and said, “The towers and robots, man. He means the alien shit. Looks like some of it’s waking up.”

“I’m sending a message up to the
Roci
right now to bounce it on to the UN and the OPA council,” Holden continued. “My recommendation is that everyone get into orbit as soon as possible. I’m asking for emergency command of the
Israel
and the
Barbapiccola
to facilitate that.”

“That isn’t going to happen,” Basia said, his voice soft.

“It’s not an easy sell,” Holden said, “but I can be persuasive. And once I have command —”

“They won’t go,” Basia said. “People already bled for this land. Died for it. We’re willing to kill each other to stay here, we’ll sure as hell stay and fight whatever else wants us gone.”

“Providing there’s anyone left,” Amos said.

“Well, sure,” Basia agreed. “Providing that.”

M
urtry and his security team had converted the small prefab security outpost into a fortress. The inner walls had been sprayed with energy-absorbing foam that looked like whipped cream but formed a ballistic barrier that could stop small-arms fire and light explosives. A large gun cage sat against one wall, secured with a biometric lock. It had only a few guns in it. Since Holden didn’t know exactly how many the security team had brought with them, that was either a good thing or a bad thing.

Murtry sat behind a small desk with a hand terminal lying on it. He leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head, a vague smile on his face. He looked like a man with all the time in the world.

“Did you hear me when I said that people are planning to murder your team?” Holden asked.

“I wish you’d stop using that word,” Carol Chiwewe said. She insisted on being present at any meeting between Holden and the RCE people, and it had seemed like a reasonable request. Now, with her own people plotting an attack, it felt like a security risk.

“ ‘Murder’?” Murtry said. “ ‘Terrorism’ has a nice ring to it. ‘Homicide’ always sounded a bit legalistic to me. Pretentious.”

“Wait,” Holden cut in before Carol could respond to Murtry’s baiting. “Cut that out right now. My capacity for giving a shit about your little tiff down here has hit its limit. This is no longer a negotiation of rights or a discussion of who attacked who first.”

“No?” Murtry said. “And what is it, then?”

“It’s about me telling you what’s going to happen.”

“Telling,” Murtry said.

“You’re not in charge here,” Carol added. Holden squashed the irritation he felt at their only taking sides to make his life harder.

“Two things have changed recently, and one hasn’t,” he said, working to keep his tone pleasant. “The violence is about to escalate, with us teetering on the edge of an all-out shooting war between the colony and RCE. And, probably more importantly, the alien stuff left on this planet is waking up.”

“What’s the one that didn’t?” Murtry asked.

“What?”

“The one thing that didn’t change.”

“Right,” Holden said, leaning across the desk toward him. “I’m still the only guy in the system with a warship in orbit. So with those three things in mind, we’re leaving this planet before you idiots can kill any more of each other, or before the aliens kill all of us.”

“Threats now?” Carol said behind him.

Without looking away from Murtry, Holden said, “You bet, if that’s what it takes. Start getting your people ready for evac. Get the
Israel
’s shuttles down here. Do it now. The
Israel
is leaving with me in thirty hours, and you’ll want to be on it when we go.”

“You can’t,” Carol said, and Holden spun around to face her.

“I can. We’ll get the
Barb
’s shuttle back down here, and I suggest you have your people pack up everything they care about and start getting on it. Because the
Barb
is leaving.”

Carol’s mouth went tight and her hands curled into fists.

“You done?” Murtry asked, his voice light. “May I present my rebuttal?”

“There isn’t one,” Holden said, pulling a chair up to the desk and sitting down. Showing he didn’t care about the trappings of control the security office gave Murtry.

“So, here’s the price of fame,” Murtry continued. “You are one of the most recognized people in the solar system. It’s why they sent you. Fame gives you the illusion of power. But it’s all just a façade.”

“No, the fact that I own the
Rocinante
—”

Murtry patted the air again in the same condescending gesture he’d used on Carol. “You’re famous for being the man who tries to save everyone. For being the solar system’s white knight. Tilting at giants like Protogen and Mao-Kwik. Your ship’s got the right name.”

Murtry laughed at Holden’s frown.

“Yeah, I’ve read a book,” Murtry went on. “So that’s why they send you here. No one will expect the great James Holden to take sides. Of secretly backing either the colonists
or
one of those nasty Earth corporations. You’re the man without an agenda or subtext.”

“Great,” Holden said. “Thanks for the insight. Now call your people and —”

“But we’re eighteen months from the closest legal remedy, and the only real power you have out here is violence.”

“You’re the violent man here,” Carol said, making it an accusation.

“I am,” Murtry agreed. “I understand its uses better than most. And the thing I know about you, Captain Holden, is that you are not. Now, if that brute you brought with you were in here making these threats, well, I’d have to take that seriously. But not from you. You’ve got a warship in orbit right now that could blow the
Israel
and the
Barbapiccola
into glowing slag, then rain down destruction on this planet that would wipe out every shred of human life in this solar system.
But
you’re not the man to pull that trigger, and we both know it. So save your threats. They’re embarrassing.”

“You’re out of control,” Holden replied. “You’re insane, and as soon as RCE finds out —”

“Finds out what? That the UN mediator got spooked because there was an alien artifact on an alien planet, and I didn’t?” Murtry interrupted. “Send in a full report. I’m sure that with your reputation and the backing of the UN and OPA, your words will be given serious consideration. And maybe,
maybe
three years from now a replacement will arrive to relieve me of duty.”

Holden stood up, dropping his hand to the butt of his gun. “Or maybe I relieve you right now.”

The room went silent for a moment. Carol seemed to be holding her breath. Murtry frowned up at Holden, seemingly taken off guard for the first time. Holden waited, not breaking eye contact, angry enough to draw on Murtry and furious with himself for letting it get to that point.

Murtry smiled. It did nothing to break the tension. “If you’d brought the other one with you, that threat might have some weight. We both know who the killer on your crew is.”

“If you think I wouldn’t blow you out of that chair right this second to save everyone else on this planet, then you don’t know me at all.”

There were scratching sounds on the floor as Carol shuffled back toward the door and out of the potential firing line. Holden kept his eyes on Murtry. The man frowned up at him for several seconds, then shifted back to the vague smile.
Here we go
, Holden thought, and tried not to let the rush of adrenaline make his hand shake.

When the hand terminal on the desk squawked a connection request, Holden was so startled that he half drew his gun before he could stop himself. Murtry didn’t move. The terminal screeched again.

“May I answer that?” Murtry asked.

Holden just nodded at him, dropping his gun back into its holster. Murtry picked up the terminal and opened the connection.

“Wei here,” a voice said.

“Go ahead.”

“Team in position. Birds are all in the nest and tooling up. Are we a go?”

“Hold,” Murtry said, then put the terminal down and looked back up and Holden. “You’re still twitching over what happened on Eros. I get that. You’re not rational about all this alien shit, and honestly, who would be? I forgive you for the threats. And I appreciate that your initial purpose in coming here was to warn me about the danger to my team. It says something to me that in spite of our differences, you’re still trying to save my people.”

“No one needs to die here,” Holden said, hoping against hope that Murtry was backing down.

“Well, that’s not strictly speaking true,” Murtry replied. “I’m good at this job. Did you think I didn’t know about this little uprising? I knew before you did.”

The security teams constantly patrolling the town would never have gotten close enough to listen in. “You’ve been bugging the town.”

“Every building in it,” Murtry agreed. “So while I appreciate you coming here, I think I’ve got the situation handled.”

“You bugged my town?” Carol asked, anger seeming to win out over her fear.

“What are you doing?” Holden said. “Don’t do something stupid.”

Murtry just smiled again, picked up his hand terminal, and said, “Strike team is go.”

The gunshots outside were softened by the foam covering the walls, and sounded like a rapid string of faint pops. Like distant fireworks, or a bad hydraulic seal finally letting go.

“Oh no,” Carol said, and rushed to the door. Holden followed her, fumbling with his hand terminal to call Amos.

Outside, the sound was much louder. The staccato reports of gunfire splitting the peaceful night air, the flashes a distant strobe lighting up the far edge of the town. Holden ran toward the shots, shouting into his terminal for Amos to come. He stumbled in the dark, dropping it, but didn’t stop to pick it up.

At the northern edge of town, he found the rest of Murtry’s security team firing on one of the houses. Shots were coming back at them from inside. The security people were shouting at the people in the house to surrender, the people inside cursing and firing in answer. Smoke poured out one of the house’s broken windows, something inside burning.

“Stop it!” Holden yelled as he ran toward the RCE people. They ignored him and continued to pour fire into the house. Answering bullets hit one of the RCE people in the chest, the body armor making a dull thud as it stopped the round. The security woman fell on her back, yelling in pain and surprise. The rest of the team opened up on the window the shot had come from, blasting the frame and inside wall behind it into splinters.

The blaze inside the house spread suddenly with a wave of heat and a whooshing sound. Someone inside screamed in panic or pain. The front door, already just a mass of carbon fiber splinters from gunfire, swung open. A woman rushed out, a rifle in her hands. The security team shot her into a splatter of blood, and she collapsed at the bottom of the steps, twitching.

“They’re burning!” Holden yelled, grabbing the nearest RCE person by the arms and shaking him. “We have to get them out!”

The man responded by shoving him away. “Stay back until the area is cleared, sir!”

Holden shoved back, hard enough to put the RCE man on his ass in the dirt, and ran toward the fallen woman at the front of the house. Someone inside must have thought he was attacking, because a shotgun blast rang out and the ground a meter behind him flew up in a miniature explosion of dust. The RCE people opened up, and Holden found himself between two different firing lines.

Again
, some distant and still calm part of his brain thought, marveling at how often this sort of thing seemed to happen.

He dove to the ground and rolled his body on top of the fallen woman, screaming for everyone to stop. No one listened. The fire in the house billowed out with another loud whump, and the heat scorched the exposed skin on Holden’s face and hands. The gunshots from inside the house cut off all at once, and the RCE return fire soon after. Holden grabbed the fallen woman by the arms and dragged her away from the flames. He stumbled when he reached the RCE people, falling down at their feet.