gaian consortium 05 - the titan trap (12 page)

There was another security camera mounted right outside the entrance to the stairwell. Since Cassidy knew she’d already been seen on it, she made no attempt to hide her face, but only lifted the bag of money, jingled it twice, and then set it on the floor immediately next to the wall.

“Okay, that should do it…I hope.”

He shrugged. “It’s a gesture.”

Opposite the stairwell was a door, one which probably led to an access corridor of some sort. By an unspoken agreement, they headed toward it, Derek moving through first, Cassidy immediately behind him. No one attempted to stop them, but that could’ve simply been because their attempt to make some sort of payment had been noticed, and the management at the hotel didn’t see any reason to detain them further, if they really did want to take off in the dome community’s equivalent of the middle of the night.

The corridor in which they found themselves was strictly utilitarian: gray walls, floor, and ceiling, punctuated here and there by doors that probably led to storage areas, laundry facilities, maybe the kitchens. Neither of them seemed inclined to stop and investigate. Instead, they hurried through the hallway until they emerged in a dingy-looking alleyway, piled high with packing crates, empty boxes, and the usual flotsam and jetsam any high-density populated area would produce.

“What now?” Derek asked.

Cassidy hesitated. She didn’t know Triton well — all right, at all — but it seemed if they were going to put that credit voucher to good use, then they’d better head back toward the settlement’s hangar complex, see if there was a ship to be had for love or money. Lots of money. Surely there had to be someone on this hunk of ice who was even more desperate than they were.

“Back to the hangars, I guess. I mean, I haven’t seen any used spaceship lots around here, have you?”

He chuckled, although the laughter had a grim note to it. Something in his expression told her he wasn’t expecting them to have much luck. Maybe they wouldn’t be able to buy a ship at all, would end up paying too much for passage on a transport ship or, even worse, a freighter. She’d spent her whole life on one, so she knew exactly how lacking in creature comforts those types of vessels tended to be.

“I suppose that’s best. And if we — ” His words cut off abruptly as his handheld beeped. He fished it out of his pocket and stared down at it, brows drawn together.

An icy trail of fear inched its way down her back. After all, the last message she’d received on her handheld wasn’t exactly reassuring. “What is it?”

In answer, he extended his hand to her so she could see the device’s screen clearly. This communique, like the one she’d gotten, had absolutely no identifying code or name stamp. However, its contents were slightly more encouraging.

Go to Hangar 19G. A ship will be waiting for you there.

“What the — ”

“I know,” Derek said, cutting her off. “So…do we trust it?”

She hesitated. Surely it couldn’t be that easy. “Smells like a trap to me.”

“That’s what I was thinking. But how much of a choice do we have?”

None at all.
They couldn’t really stand here forever, debating their choices. Either they’d decide to trust the message, or they wouldn’t. And since they’d already determined it was the hangar complex or nothing, she thought they might as well head in that direction.

“We’ll go over there. But we need to keep an eye out for anything unusual.”

The lifted eyebrow he gave her seemed to indicate that he thought almost anything they saw on Triton would be unusual. Fair enough. A place like this wasn’t exactly something your normal atmospheric scientist encountered, even one who’d spent a few years in MaxSec.

But he didn’t argue, only gave a faint nod, and so they headed back to that quadrant of the dome. The hangar complex itself was technically outside the dome, as of course it couldn’t exactly open and shut to allow ships to enter or exit. No, there was a long above-ground tunnel, one that connected the actual structures where vessels landed to the complex where they’d been checked for weapons less than a standard day ago.

Something about the thought of that tunnel made Cassidy nervous. She didn’t communicate her unease to Derek, as she couldn’t articulate exactly why the thought of it bothered her. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t gone through it without a hitch when they first arrived. Besides, although it felt like the middle of the night to her, there were still plenty of people coming and going on the dome’s streets, especially as they got closer to the hangar complex. You arrived at a planet when you arrived. It wasn’t as if shipping activity confined itself to “normal” working hours…whatever those might be.

They passed through the screening devices once more. The lights on the walk-through structure glowed green, indicating that they were not carrying any weapons that could damage the dome. Those devices strictly focused on pulse guns and the old-fashioned projectile weapons that preceded them, and Cassidy wondered what would happen if she tried to smuggle a knife or other bladed weapon through the screener. Maybe nothing. It wasn’t as if you could drive a sword through the tough material of a dome, a super-composite that was impervious to most types of impact.

Despite her attempt to appear calm, it seemed as if some of her disquiet had communicated itself to Derek, as she noticed he walked so close beside her that their hands brushed against one another from time to time. Not that she minded too much; it felt good to have him next to her like that, even if she knew he probably couldn’t do much to defend her if the worst happened. He looked big and capable, but come on — he was a scientist, someone who spent his life working on a computer or, at the most, going out in the field to take readings and observations. Having fended off an attack or two in some of Luna City’s more questionable districts, Cassidy thought she was probably better equipped than he to take on any assailants who might come their way.

Even this late there was some foot traffic in the tunnel, people who didn’t seem to pay her or Derek any mind, who moved briskly along, gazes focused on their destination, absorbed in their own thoughts. Most of them didn’t look particularly seedy or menacing, but even in her short time here, Cassidy had come to realize that Triton’s dome city wasn’t exactly the seething hotbed of crime the Gaian authorities painted it to be. She had no doubt that a lot of the people here were operating outside the Consortium’s playbook. However, that didn’t mean they were intent on blindly assaulting or otherwise defrauding every citizen they came across. Maybe it was a simple matter of there being more honor among thieves than she’d thought, but, either way, she’d take it.

The foot traffic ebbed, and the only people Cassidy saw were a couple dressed in somewhat rumpled business clothing coming toward them, a man and woman, maybe some ten years or so older than she and Derek. They looked tired, and Cassidy wondered how long a flight they’d taken to get here, and why this supposedly outlaw world was the destination of such a respectable-looking pair.

She didn’t have to wonder for long, since, just as the couple was passing by, they lunged at her and Derek, knives glinting under the blue-white overhead lighting. A startled little scream erupted from her throat, and after that she wasn’t sure exactly what happened.

Derek shoved her, pushing her out of harm’s way, even as he lashed out with one foot, catching both the man and the woman behind their knees in a sweep so fast Cassidy could barely keep her gaze focused on it. They stumbled but regained their balance quickly, descending on Derek, apparently leaving Cassidy to be dealt with later. Once again the knives flashed, and she was sure he was about to be skewered — but no, his hand chopped against the woman’s forearm, and even from where she was crouched on the ground, Cassidy could hear the bone break with a sickening crunch. The knife went flying, clattering off the curved metal wall, and she skittered toward it on her hands and knees, even as the woman let out a screech and then struck toward Derek with her left hand while her companion whirled, attempting to drive his knife right into Derek’s midsection.

Somehow he whipped himself out of the way just in time, leaving the knife to whistle harmlessly through midair. The man cursed and lifted his arm to strike again, but Derek kicked out, catching him directly in the groin. At the same time, Cassidy felt her fingers wrap around the plastic handle of the knife, still warm from the female attacker’s grasp. As the other assailant bent over, groaning from the impact of Derek’s kick, Cassidy thrust herself to her feet and drove the knife into the woman’s side while she was momentarily distracted by her companion’s obvious distress.

The woman gasped, then reached back and jabbed an elbow into Cassidy’s ribs. Luckily, it was a glancing blow, and so she didn’t think any ribs were cracked, although she guessed she’d have a hell of a bruise later.

If there was a later.

Obviously, the woman wasn’t one to be stopped by a simple knife wound, since she yanked the knife from her side and thrust backward with it. Somehow Cassidy managed to jerk herself out of the way at the last minute, although she heard rather than felt the blade cut through the fabric of her new shirt.

God damn it.

She threw a glance over her shoulder, saw Derek grab his assailant by the shoulders and yank him downward as he thrust up with one knee, catching the man in the nose. Blood sprayed everywhere, and the man staggered backward — bumping into his companion, who lost her balance for a split second. That seemed to be the only opening Derek needed, as he kicked out again, hitting her in the exact spot where Cassidy had stabbed her and throwing her back against the wall. She slid down it, blood pouring from her side. Even then she tried to push herself to her feet, knife still clutched in one hand.

In that same moment, a group of four men in dark, close-fitting clothing approached, and Cassidy felt her heart sink. Okay, Derek had done better than she could have imagined, but even with that, she didn’t see how he could possibly take on four more men in addition to the one who’d assaulted them initially. That man was as bruised and bloodied as his companion, but clearly not down for the count just yet, since he was already starting to push himself to his feet.

As she braced herself, wondering if she had it in her to fight off two of the newcomers in addition to the bitch who wouldn’t die, the four men swarmed their assailants. Cassidy couldn’t see exactly what happened, but a few seconds later, both the man and the woman were passed out on the ground. Something glinted as one of the men slipped it into the pocket of his coveralls. Some kind of knockout drug?

Whatever it was, it obviously worked. One of the men turned toward her and Derek, saying, “Hope you don’t mind us butting in. It looked like you were doing okay there, but we figured you could use a hand.”

“It’s no problem,” Derek said, sounding a little breathless. He flicked a glance at Cassidy, frowning when he saw the tear in her shirt. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” she replied, noting that she sounded out of breath herself. “Just caught the shirt, not me.” She turned her attention to their rescuer. “Who are you?”

He grinned. Under normal circumstances, she would’ve said he was fairly nondescript-looking — sandy hair, brown eyes, features regular but not particularly handsome. But something about the way he carried himself told her he was a pretty tough customer. “A friend.”

“A friend, huh?”

“Thanks for the rescue,” Derek put in, obviously less than thrilled by her skeptical tone.

“It’s no problem. You can continue to Hangar 19G now.”

So these guys were in league with whomever had sent that message? “What’s in Hangar 19G?”

His brown eyes crinkled a bit at the corners as he shot her a grin. “Just what the message said. A ship. Or do you not want it anymore?”

“Oh, we want it,” Derek said. “Don’t we, Cassidy?”

She knew when to keep her mouth shut. “Absolutely. Thanks again.”

The man’s grin only widened, but she ignored it and went to Derek, looped her arm through his, and went on through the tunnel as if absolutely nothing untoward had happened. Once they were a few yards away from the scene of the attack, she murmured, “How the hell did you learn to fight like that?”

Derek didn’t look at her, just kept walking. After a long pause, he said, “My father would never allow his son to bring dishonor on the Tagawa name by not knowing how to defend himself. I started training in martial arts when I was five years old.”

Holy crap. And she thought her father had expected a lot of her. “Well, it sure came in handy.”

No reply, only a grim nod. She got the hint that he really didn’t want to talk about it, so she kept her mouth shut as they left the tunnel, then paused to inspect the holo-map of the hangar complex conveniently displayed on the wall opposite the tunnel’s exit. From there they had to walk down a long corridor, then another, until at last they found the hangar bay designated as 19G. It was sealed with a biometric lock, and she looked over at Derek, perplexed.

“What now?”

His expression was unreadable. “Try it.”

“What do you mean, ‘try it’? I’ve never been before, so how can it be keyed to my print already?”

“Just try it.”

Fine. She lifted her right hand and jabbed her thumb against the glass plate. To her surprise, the light above the lock glowed blue, and a second later the door slid smoothly open. “How did you know it would do that?”

“I didn’t, but I’m guessing, considering that whoever is helping us got the code to my handheld even though no one in the galaxy should have it, and that they also knew to send those guys to bail us out, they probably lifted your prints from the hotel room and used them to key the lock here.”

None of that was outside the bounds of possibility, but even so, the thought that someone had been watching them so closely made a chill creep up her neck. She didn’t like it, even though so far their intentions seemed to have been completely beneficent.

All those misgivings were forgotten, though, as she stepped inside the hangar and saw the ship their unknown benefactors had left there for her and Derek. No, it wasn’t a Sirocco, but the next best thing — a Zephyr-class personal transport, sleek and fast, capable of sublight travel, even if it didn’t have the Sirocco’s Gupta drive.