Time passed, and finally, when the last of the whispered conversations had died away, and everyone else was asleep, Molly made her move.
Slipping out from under the covers Molly tiptoed to the doorway and touched the softly glowing circle of red light. The circle turned green and the hatch hissed open.
Molly paused, searched the compartment for signs of movement, and seeing none stepped outside.
Satisfied that she'd managed to slip out of the room undetected, Molly padded down the corridor, ready to claim a stomachache if she encountered a member of the crew.
It felt weird to wear the one-piece black body stocking in the corridor, but that's what the girls used for pajamas, so that's what she'd have on if truly on her way to the sick bay.
This would be her last trip to the S-4 damage-control station. She'd been there three times before, and didn't dare make any more trips after this one. Someone or something was sure to go wrong eventually and trip her up.
Intended for use during a full scale disaster, the station's computer console would provide backup access to the vessel's atmospheric and fire-control systems, allowing the crew to pump oxygen out of various compartments, dump fire retardant in, or selectively cut power to various locations.
As such the computer console located in S-4 had nothing to do with the ship's primary navcomp, or wasn't supposed to, but Molly had written a conversion program that linked both computers together. Or had
almost
linked them together, since she was still in the process of debugging the conversion, and had yet to actually access the navcomp.
By now Martha Chong, Molly's computer instructor back on Alice, would have been mumbling in frustration. The truth was that at least two of the other girls were better with computers than Molly was, but she couldn't trust them. They were friends of Lia's, and the older girl would make fun of the whole thing.
Assuming that she did gain access to the navcomp, Molly planned to obtain a cube dump of the ship's travels for the last month or so. By backtracking along the ship's course she could find Alice. Assuming she had something to backtrack in, which she didn't, but like Mom always said, "Take one thing at a time, Molly. Take one thing at a time."
Like all damage-control stations this one was unlocked. After all, in the case of major damage to the ship's hull, there would be scant time for access codes. Nor was there any way to be sure which crew member would use the station. So, like S-1, S-2, and S-3, S-4 was unsecured.
Molly took one last look around, saw nothing but empty corridor, and palmed the access panel. The hatch slid open, then closed behind her.
It was a tiny compartment with barely enough room for tool storage, a computer console, and an emergency patch kit.
Molly felt her pulse start to pound a little faster. While her stomach ache story might fly out in the corridor, it wouldn't do much good in here. She forced the fear down and back.
A rudimentary seat was held up against the bulkhead by a spring-loaded hinge. Molly pushed the seat down and sat on it. The metal felt cold through the thin body stocking.
Molly slid the keyboard out of its recess and turned it on. Under normal circumstances that would have activated one of the zillion indicator lights located on the bridge, but she had eliminated that function the first time out. Having spent hundreds of hours on her father's ships, Molly had a better-than-average understanding of how they worked.
Molly entered a multidigit code, checked to make sure that no one had tampered with her program, and went to work.
Five minutes later Molly was completely lost in what she was doing. Bit by bit Molly felt her way through the last few interfaces, neutralized two security procedures meant to keep her out, and dipped into the navcomp's huge memory. Not bad for one of Chong's worst students.
Her first question was simple: "Where is the ship now?"
A long string of numbers flooded the screen.
Molly frowned and fingers flew over keys: "Request plain language description of the ship's position using nearest stars or planets as points of reference."
The reply was almost instantaneous: "Ship is en route from Lakor to Drang."
Molly nodded. The ship was headed for Drang, wherever that was. Okay, enough messing around. First she'd get a cube dump on the mathematical stuff . . . then she'd back out of the navcomp, erasing the conversion program as she went. In fifteen or twenty minutes she'd have everything she needed and no one the wiser.
Molly had just started to type when she heard feet scuffle outside. She whirled just in time to see the hatch open.
Lia stood outside, as did a smug-looking Boots and an angry Raz. Lia smiled and pointed a triumphant finger in Molly's direction.
"There she is, sir . . . just like I told you. Thank goodness you caught her in time! There's no telling what harm she might have done!"
Nexus. That was the name it had given itself, or had been given, depending on which story you chose to believe.
It made little difference to McCade. To him Nexus was a place, a place to look for Molly, or clues that would point in her direction.
At the moment Nexus just hung there, a vast amalgamation of interconnected spaceships, slowly spinning before a distant star.
The ships came in all shapes and sizes. There were tankers, freighters, tugs, yachts, liners, and Sol knows what else, at least a hundred of them, all hooked together in what looked like random order, their various shapes appearing and disappearing as dim sunlight moved across their combined hulls.
Taken as a whole, the ships and the computer that made the gathering possible were known as Nexus.
The purpose of the gathering was simple, to sell things you didn't need, and buy things you did. And to do so without the taxes, duties, laws, and other encumbrances that so often get in the way of free trade.
That's why Nexus was located out along the rim, beyond the jurisdiction of systemic or planetary governments, and a law unto itself.
Nexus was not without structure however, no, it was far too complex to function without rules, and that meant a guiding intelligence.
And that intelligence was supplied by a sentient computer, a machine of rather mysterious origins, which ran Nexus like a personal fiefdom.
There were two theories about the artificial intelligence. One held that the computer had escaped from some sort of governmental research project, while the other suggested that the AI was owned by a huge mega-corp, and provided it with a source of untaxed revenue.
McCade decided it didn't make too much difference which theory was true. Nexus pulled some heavy G's any way you figured it. More than that, Nexus knew the details of every transaction that took place within its sphere of influence, including what was traded by whom.
McCade stuck a cigar in his mouth and puffed it into life. The smoke floated upward and drifted toward a vent.
So, if Pong, or any of Pong's ships, had been here, chances were Nexus would know. In some ways it was a long shot . . . and in some ways it wasn't.
There were a limited number of places where one could sell stolen goods on a large scale, and because Pong had betrayed the pirates during the Vial of Tears episode, he was barred from the brotherhood's markets. The primary one being located on the fortified planet known as The Rock.
That meant he'd have to use one of the others, and there weren't all that many to choose from. There was Tin Town, a free-floating, wide-open, anything-goes habitat, a rather grubby planet called Seed, and a few others, the most famous of which was Nexus.
So, having made sure that all of the children were safely aboard the small freighter that would carry them to Alice, McCade held a council of war.
They listed alternative destinations, discussed the pros and cons of each, and came to a final decision. Nexus. It wasn't controlled by the brotherhood, was relatively close to Lakor, and played a significant role in the slave trade.
Shortly thereafter the group said good-bye to a smug King Lif, climbed aboard their shuttle, and lifted for space.
Once aboard
Void Runner
it was a quick jump into hyperspace and a three-day trip to the point called Nexus.
Most of them enjoyed the trip, or would have had their mission been different, the exception being Rico. He'd fallen into an ever-deepening depression. It was clear that Vanessa's death weighed heavily on his mind.
The activity on Lakor had provided a momentary distraction, something to occupy Rico's mind and body, but now, without anything to do, his emotions were spiraling down.
McCade remembered the glint of gold as Rico had thrown something into Vanessa's grave, and the comment Sara had made just prior to liftoff: "Keep a close eye on Rico, Sam, he's hurting, and God knows what he might do."
At the moment the big man was conning the ship, following orders provided by some tiny portion of the Nexus brain, heading for the point where
Void Runner
would become part of the ever-evolving whole.
For such was the computer's intelligence that it could calculate exactly where to place
Void Runner
's
additional mass, monitor some very complex transactions, and run the habitat all at the same time.
They were still fifty miles away from the mass of interconnected ships when Nexus ordered Rico to surrender control. Conscious of the fact that the computer controlled enough weapons to destroy a small fleet, Rico obeyed.
Numbers and schematics rippled across the command screens as Nexus assumed control, inventoried the ship's offensive and defensive capabilities, and drew the ship steadily in.
Now Nexus could be seen without magnification. The central construct was a globe, and reaching out from it were innumerable black tentacles, each one clutching a ship. The design reminded McCade of the cephalopods of his native Terra.
The comparison seemed even more appropriate when a tube came snaking out to make contact with
Void Runner
's
main lock.
Indicator lights flashed on and off as Nexus ran a final check on the ship's systems, locked out all of her weapons systems, and verified a positive seal with
Void Runner
's
main lock. Like any sentient being Nexus had a well-developed sense of self-preservation.
Somewhere at the hub of the metallic maze an order went out and the heretofore flexible tube turned hard as steel.
Thanks to the tube's rigidity the ship would be held firmly in place preventing the possibility of collision with the vessels that surrounded it.
Lights flashed and numbers vanished from the screens as Nexus withdrew all but a tendril of its intelligence from the ship and turned that part of its attention elsewhere. There were many things to do.
McCade activated the intercom. "Maggie?"
"Yeah?" The chief engineer's voice had an edge to it as usual.
"Meet us in the lounge please." Roger.
All four of them were gathered in the lounge five minutes later. It was large enough for twice their number and, thanks to the money McCade had invested in it, quite comfortable.
McCade dropped into a chair and felt it shift slightly to accommodate the shape of his body. Rico and Phil did likewise, while Maggie killed power and lowered herself to the deck.
"Well, here we are," Phil said cheerfully. "Now what?"
McCade checked his cigar, found it was getting a bit short, and stubbed it out.
"Now we take a look around. Find out where the slave market is . . . and look for the children."
Maggie gave a snort of derision.
McCade smiled patiently. "Yes, Maggie? You've got something to add?"
"Only that your plan is stupid," Maggie replied evenly.
"Don't be shy . . . say what ya mean," Rico commented dryly.
"Thanks, I will," Maggie answered, eyes flashing. "If the kids are here, you want to rescue them, right?"
"Obviously," McCade said, somewhat annoyed. "What's your point?"
Maggie met their eyes one at a time. "My point is that we should prepare for success. Think about it. Lets say you find 'em, there's what, twenty or so girls unaccounted for? And the same number of boys? What're you going to do? Take 'em out at gunpoint? If so, you'd better come up with a battalion of marines, cause I've been here before, and if the owners don't stop you, Nexus will.
"Or," Maggie continued, "maybe you plan to buy the children. Tell me, Sam . . . have you got a couple hundred thousand credits stashed under your pillow? Lif paid the freight on Lakor . . . but what happens here?"
There was a long silence while McCade got up and walked over to the autobar. He ordered a Terran whiskey and, when it came, took a thoughtful sip. When McCade turned around there was a grin on his face.
"Thanks, Maggie. I guess I'm so used to rolling over and through problems, I don't always think 'em through. From the sound of things we couldn't take the children by force, and no, I don't have two hundred big ones stashed under my pillow. So, if the children are here, we've got a problem, and if they aren't, we don't. How about you and Rico taking a look around? That way we'll know if we need the two hundred thousand or not."
Maggie found herself nodding in agreement. McCade made the whole thing sound so reasonable there wasn't much choice.
The
Void Runner
's
lock hissed closed behind him. The tube was about seven feet in diameter, slightly ridged along its inner surface, and off-white in color. A yellowish light seemed to ooze around them.
Maggie gestured Rico forward. The tube featured some tight turns and if Maggie made a mistake she'd do so privately.
Rico shrugged and walked away. Within seconds he disappeared around a curve.
Maggie followed, watching the turns, increasingly confident the farther she went. Then the tube straightened out and she saw Rico up ahead. By applying some additional power she was able to reach the main lock only seconds after he did.
The lock opened, they moved inside, and it closed again. A wall screen came to life. On it Maggie saw a softly rounded something with a head and shoulders but no face. It was silver and slightly reflective.