Crashland (39 page)

“You don't have to,” she said.

“Are you kidding? We're talking
space
. This will be my only chance.”

“We're not going by rocket,” said Devin. “You do understand that, don't you? I'm not riding up there on the top of a bomb.”

“No,” said Jesse, “I know. It has to be d-mat.”

He reached out and took Clair's hand. “And afterward, we won't do it again.”

“All right,” she said, meaning that with all her heart but knowing she was deceiving him by not mentioning her hopes for Zep and Libby. She would tell him everything, once she had done what she had to do.

“So we have a plan,” she said. “It means leaving here, of course, and we'll need a d-mat booth. Maybe we can use that freighter we came in on—perhaps relaying through the Maze to make us harder to trace.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” said Devin, pointing at Nobody. “We're trusting him now?”

“All he told us was what the Yard was like,” said Jesse, “not where it is.”

“He's right,” said Clair. “We worked that out on our own.”

“Turns out you didn't need me after all,” said the dupe. “I expect you to keep your end of the bargain all the same.”

“If everything goes as planned,” said Clair, “you won't have to worry about that.”

“What are we going to do about Forest and Sargent?” asked Jesse.

Clair remembered Sargent shadowing her through the seastead, then standing guard all night long in the muster. No way was the PK going to let her go off on her own.

“They can't know,” she said. “They can't even suspect.”

“I can distract them, if you like,” said Nobody.

“No,” said Clair. She was afraid of what he meant by “distract.” “If they find out you're in here, they'll be even more edgy. We need to get them out of the way somehow.”

“It has to look completely convincing,” said Devin. “The slightest suspicion and the lawmakers will be all over us.”

The figure on the bed didn't move the smallest amount, but her voice was all smile.

“I think I have just the person for the job. . . .”

THE DETAILS FELL
into place with surprising ease, and in moments they were ready to go. The plan was simple in conception, complex in execution. There were a lot of moving parts, every one of which needed to work as planned for the entire thing to come off. Clair couldn't oversee all of them. She had to trust that the people around her wanted this to work as badly as she did.

She felt a renewed fluttering in her belly. She was doing everything in her power to save the world. If the plan worked, great. If it didn't, if any one of the pieces failed, then the chances of her surviving the night were very small. The powerful enemies she had thought she had were nothing compared to those she would gain.

Nobody, one of those former enemies, volunteered to go with them to the station, probably to make certain they kept their end of the bargain. There seemed no reason to deny him that. Someone would keep a close eye on him at all times.

Space
, she thought. The last time she went there was the worst experience of her life. But this time it was her choice, like Jesse and d-mat, and she was making it with her eyes wide open. There would be no lies, no tricks, no need for sacrifice. When she returned, the threat of the dupes would be removed and the lawmakers attempting to take over the world would have suffered a major setback—sufficient perhaps that they might abandon their plans. Realizing they'd been beaten, they might even release Allison Hill without being asked. Clair didn't want to contemplate the alternative.

“Ready?” she asked.

“Ready,” said Devin and Jesse.

“What about you?” she asked Nobody.

“You are certain this is what you want?”

Clair nodded.

“Then I am ready too,” he said.

“We're in position,” said Agnessa.

Clair took a deep breath.

“Let's do it.”

She led them down the hallway to where Nelly was waiting by the exit. The big woman swung the doors open. Forest and Sargent were waiting outside.

“This is bullshit,” said Jesse in a loud voice, pushing past Clair and out into the night.

“Well, what did you expect from a pack of ignorant dinosaurs?” said Devin, playing his part with equal commitment. “Let's get out of here while we can.”

“What happened?” asked Sargent of Clair as she followed Jesse and Devin through the door. “What did she say to you?”

Clair did her best to look disappointed and frustrated.

“I don't want to talk about it,” she said, heading down the slope, toward the water. “Is the hovercraft still where we left it?”

“Yes.” Sargent's lenses sparked. “It hasn't been interfered with.”

“Good. We have to think of somewhere else to go. It's too dangerous for us here.”

“I will make arrangements for a safe house,” said Forest.

“That'll have to do,” said Clair.

“Why?” asked Sargent. “What went wrong?”

“Everything,” said Jesse. “We'll tell you when we get there.”

Nobody hung back, unnoticed.

Barely had Clair and the others traveled twenty yards when five sinister figures stepped out of an alleyway.

“Where do you think you're going, meatsack?” said Sandler Jones.

The violence in his voice shocked Clair. She backed up a step.

“Out of the way,” said Sargent, using her height to its full advantage. “We don't want any trouble.”

“You shouldn't have come here, then.”

Suddenly all five had pistols in their hands. Clair's heart raced.

“Don't,” said the redhead as Forest reached for his sidearm. “Weapon on the ground, Peeker. You and your spies have got some explaining to do.”

“We are peacekeepers, not spies,” said Forest, putting his pistol in front of him.

“Same thing. You too, blondie.”

Sargent hesitated, then did as she was told.

“Lenses off,” barked the redhead.

“You're making a terrible mistake,” said Sargent.

“I said, lenses off, or I'll reach into those eyeballs of yours and switch them off for you.”

Clair, Devin, and Jesse switched off their augs, and after a moment the PKs obeyed.

“Right,” said Sandler Jones. “Now we're getting somewhere.”

Out of the shadows behind the PKs stepped two brutal-looking men, followed by Nobody. The first brute raised a meaty fist and brought it down hard on the base of Sargent's skull. She bent forward and spun around with a return blow that sent her assailant back a step. The second man hit Forest just above the ear. The peacekeeper's eyes rolled up into the back of his head and he dropped to the ground, unconscious.

“Inspector!”

Distracted, Sargent took a blow to the chin. She swung wildly in return but missed, and staggered in Clair's direction. Nobody extended a leg and tripped her. The redhead clubbed her once, twice with the butt of his pistol. She stayed down.

Clair's breath was coming in ragged gulps as though she had been doing the fighting. It had all happened so quickly. But it was done, and they were fully committed now. Forest and Sargent were safely out of the equation, as they had to be for her plan to work. She hoped they would be okay, and that they would accept her apology when they woke up and it was all over. Nothing appeared to be broken, but the necessity for deception and violence—Agnessa's idea—still appalled her.

“Good work,” said Devin to the thugs and brutes, seemingly unfazed. “Much obliged.”

“We didn't do it for you,” said spider-fingers.

“Are they going to be all right?” asked Jesse, looking as shocked as Clair felt.

“They'll wake up eventually,” said the man who had taken down Sargent, rubbing the knuckles of his right hand. “What do you care, anyway? They're dupes.”

“We should just kill them right here,” said Sandler, hefting his pistol. “You included,” he added for Nobody's benefit.

“No!” said Clair, placing herself between him and the PKs. “We have no proof that either of them are dupes.”

“But they might be,” leered the redhead, coming entirely too close. “It's not murder if they're already dead.”

“Give it a rest, will you?” said Devin. “We're going to have an army of PKs raining down on us if we don't get on with it.”

Clair blew out a ragged gust of air as Sandler Jones turned away.

“Bring them on, I say. . . .” But he obeyed Clair's plan as Agnessa had told him to, gesturing for two of the younger thugs to lift Forest by the armpits and the older men to do the same with Sargent, with considerably more effort. As a group, they all began moving back down to the pier, Clair hanging back so she could see the men from WHOLE at all times.

They reached the hovercraft in good time. The thugs put the two unconscious PKs on the rear bench seat so they were leaning against each other. Clair sat in the next row forward, between Nobody and Devin. Jesse took the front seat, ready at the controls.

Clair forced herself to say thank you to the thugs with good grace as they retreated back into the shadows. The plan couldn't have worked without them, but that didn't mean she had to like it.

The feeling was mutual.

“We're done,” said Sandler Jones, spitting into the boat. “Don't even
think
about coming back.”

That was the last thing on Clair's mind. It was time for the next stage of the plan.

She reactivated her lenses and called PK Drader on an open chat.

“Clair!” His voice burst into her ears with unfiltered urgency. “What happened? Are you all right?”

“We're fine,” she said, trying to inject a note of desperate relief into her voice. “Those idiots we met before took us by surprise. There was an argument. It's all sorted out now, but I knew someone would be watching, so I called you. You're the only other PK I really know.”

“We're trying to get hold of Forest and Sargent. Where are they?”

“Right here.” Clair glanced over her shoulder to where the PKs slumped on the backseat so her lenses would catch the view. “They'll be all right. We just need to get out of here. Is that safe house ready?”

“Yes. I'll send rapid response via Net One to escort you. I might even be able to come myself—”

“No need, PK Drader,” chipped in Devin. “Things are messy but under control. We'll relay your peacekeepers back to you once we make the freight booth.”

“You're using the same one you came in on? Sensible. Take care. Call if anything else goes wrong.”

Clair closed the chat and turned off her lenses again. Hopefully PK Drader would take that as part of the
messiness
Devin hinted at without giving any specifics. It wouldn't do to have the PKs watch too closely, since they had no intention of going to any safe house. Once they were in space their plan would be harder to conceal. The less time the PKs had to mobilize against them the better.

She gave Jesse the thumbs-up. He started the fans and pushed the throttle forward, raising a powerful roar from the rear of the hovercraft. The surface under them shifted as it lifted into the air and moved out on the water.

Something touched Clair's shoulder. She spun around. Sargent had fallen forward into the back of her seat. Clair reached out to right her, assuming it was the motion of the craft that had disturbed her. It took her a second to realize—

Forest was gone.

“Wait!”

Jesse pulled back on the throttle, looking around to see what was going on.

Clair climbed on the seat and looked around. There was no sign of the peacekeeper, on the hovercraft or off it.

“Forest—he's fallen overboard!”

Devin got up on his knees next to her, whipping his head back and forth. “He'll drown—he's out cold.”

Jesse brought the hovercraft about, moving in slow arcs. They searched the dark waters for any sign of him, but saw nothing. Clair grew increasingly desperate. She didn't want to delay too long, but she didn't want the death of a potentially innocent man on her conscience either.

Then she remembered the way Forest had fallen when Agnessa's thug had hit him. He had turned, and his eyes had rolled back into his head.

There's something wrong with his nerves
, Sargent had told her.
He has to consciously make every twitch and glance. . . .

“He didn't fall,” she said. “He jumped. He was awake the whole time!”

“SHIT,” SAID DEVIN.
“That means he heard everything we said back there. He knows we arranged the attack—”

“But he didn't tell anyone,” said Jesse. “PK Drader didn't know.”

“Maybe Drader was pretending he didn't know in order to surprise us at the freighter.” Clair ground her fists into her forehead, trying to think through this sudden new development. What did it mean? If Forest was nothing but a dutiful PK, he should have immediately called in their deception—but he could have done that just as easily from the shore, or from his slumped position on the seat, without abandoning Sargent. He could have called PK Drader without jumping overboard and Clair would never have known. She and the others would have walked right into a trap.

The same applied if he was a dupe. Taking the opportunity to escape would only have alerted Clair to the fact that he knew what was going on.

There had to be another reason why he had escaped. But what was it?

Nobody lightly slapped Sargent's face while Devin held an oar upraised, just in case. There was no response. Behind them the lights of the landing and its cloud of airships reflected in the cold water as Jesse brought the hovercraft back around.

There was only one other place Forest could go.

The muster
, she thought. Forest was going
back
.