Morgan's Choice (25 page)

The out-houses stood in a line beyond the
formal garden. She would have to cross a pool of light at the side
of the house to get there. She hesitated, standing in the
shadows.
Would it help if I crossed my fingers? Probably
not
. Nobody was about.
Light rain had started to fall again. Pulse pounding, nerves
twitching she scampered away from the house and into the shadows
under the trees. She leant against the trunk of the nearest one and
scanned the surroundings. So far, so good. Keeping under cover as
best she could, she sidled around until she stood outside the
converted store room that served as a guard room. The shutters on
the windows were closed.

Now what? She didn’t even know how many
guards there were. She’d seen a vent, hadn’t she? She slipped
around to the back of the building. There it was, above her head,
too high for her to reach. The rain flattened her hair, dripped
from her nose, pooled on the ground. She stared around, looking for
inspiration. The manor’s workshops were nearby. Surely they’d have
junk, a box or a carton. Another scamper through the shadows
brought her to the back of the workshops. The usual pile of
discards formed a haphazard stack against the rear wall. She
rummaged through and found a light, sturdy crate and a piece of
broken iron bar. Crate in one hand, iron bar in the other, she
slipped back to the vent. Water drizzling down her neck she
scrambled up and stood on tiptoe, wishing she could see him but the
vent was still above her head.

“Ravindra?” She whispered, loud enough for
him to hear, but not the guard. She hoped.

“Selwood?” His voice was little more than a
murmur.

A tingle of elation shivered through her.
“Yes. How many guards?”

“One, I think. I heard one leave.”

“Okay. I’ll try to get rid of him.”

Great idea, Morgan.
How
? The only way she
knew. She concentrated, reading the signal from the monitoring
equipment through the solid walls. An emergency call-out to the
front of the manor. Shivering with cold, she padded to the corner
of the building. At least the rain had stopped for the moment. If
she was lucky, he’d run and leave the door unlocked. She flashed
the emergency to the monitor. A scrape, a scuffle, the door flung
wide and he ran, his pistol in his hands. She darted
inside.

The door to the cell had a lock, one of those
old-fashioned ones that needed a mechanical key. “I’m here,” she
called. “Looking for a key.”

Nothing on the table, nothing on the hook on
the wall. The guard must have it with him. No choice, then. She
flattened her back against the wall next to the door and hefted the
iron bar. Footsteps crunched on the gravel. She lifted the bar over
her shoulder. She’d have to be quick and decisive. No second goes.
He stepped in the doorway, pulling the door closed after him. She
cut the iron bar down with all her strength.

The blow glanced off his shoulder as he
turned. He caught her wrist, his mouth an ‘O’ of surprise.

Fuck fuck fuck. She had a microsecond of
advantage before he overpowered her. She dropped the iron bar,
grabbed his arm with the other hand as well, pivoted and pulled him
over her hip. Off-balance, he stumbled. She shoved and he let go of
her arm to fend off the floor as he fell. She dropped her knee into
his back. He struggled, trying to turn over. Groping blindly, her
fingers fastened on the iron bar. She picked it up and struck hard.
He collapsed, a limp bundle.

Chest heaving, weak with relief, she rolled
him over. The guard wasn’t dead but the wound seeped blood. He’d be
concussed at least. She lifted the key ring from his belt and went
to the cell door. Fumbling from the cold, she tried the keys. The
third one fitted, turning easily in a well-oiled lock. The door
slid aside. Ravindra faced her, arms behind his back, uniform
soiled, a bloody gash on his cheek. But his eyes still had that
amber arrogance. God, he was gorgeous. Her heart fluttered. She’d
thought she’d never see him again.

“Nice to see you.” He almost smiled as he
stepped out of the cell. “Are there keys for these?” He shifted his
arms.

She examined the key ring, looking for a
smaller key. Right first time. A soft click and the manacles fell
away into her hand.

“Will the monitors see this? How much time do
we have?”

“I fixed the monitor. I’ll reset it before we
go.”

“Good. Undress him,” Ravindra said, already
unfastening his jacket.

She knelt and started work, trying to keep
her mind on the job as Ravindra stripped down to white undershorts
and pulled on the guard’s uniform. A bit small, short in the leg,
tight across his shoulders but better than white. The boots didn’t
fit, though. They’d have to mucky up his white dress boots.
Ravindra checked the fellow’s pistol, shot him in the chest and put
the weapon back into the holster at his belt with hardly a
blink.

Just like that. She bit her lip.
“Did you have to do
that?”

He glanced up at her, already dressing the
body in his discarded clothes. “Would you prefer he called for
assistance before we are well gone? Help me with this.”

She guessed not. But even so. Then again,
somebody had carved his face. And he wasn’t ‘nice’; never had been.
She bent to help.

Ravindra manacled the corpse’s wrists and
dragged it into the cell. “As close as this fellow will ever get
to
Darya
rank.” He
arranged the guard on his side against the wall, knees up, as if
asleep, closed the door and locked it. Morgan reset the monitor’s
feed.

He bowed from the neck and smiled down at
her. “I am indebted. What now,
Suri
?”

Warmth stole through Morgan’s body.
Idiot
. No
expectations, no attachments. This was about ending this
revolution. “Now we steal a skimmer and get the hell out of here.
Follow me, Admiral.”

She locked the store room door, tossed the
key ring into the undergrowth and loped along the back of the
house, Ravindra behind her, around to where the skimmers were
parked.

The front of the mansion blazed with light,
spilling from the windows out onto the front patio. The circular
driveway was more subtly illuminated, edged in soft uplights. Five
skimmers belonging to Asbarthi’s guests stood in a row. The drivers
had probably adjourned to the kitchen, flirting with the maids,
keeping out of the weather. A guard paced along the patio, his
boredom evident in his slouching gait. He strolled down to the end
and turned to repeat the process.

Morgan gritted her teeth. Bored he might be,
but he’d notice them for sure if they walked toward the skimmers.
If he challenged them, what could they do?

A new shower of rain swept toward them, a
grey mist from the darkness and she crouched against the wall of
the house as the first spatters hit her face.

Ravindra leant over her. “The furthest one.
Run.”

Head down, rain battering her body, Morgan
sprinted.

She skidded around the vehicle’s front,
opened the driver’s door and slid inside. Ravindra scrambled in
beside her. These things didn’t need a driver; all they needed was
a destination. She found the coordinates for Krystor Central space
port and fed them in.

The skimmer lifted, automatically
activating lights and the rain shield.
Stupid. Think, woman.
Morgan turned off the lights
and hoped no-one had noticed. Her throat dry with tension, she
resisted the temptation to increase the speed at which the vehicle
slid down the drive between the trees. The last remaining water
droplets rolled down the now-protected windscreen while the
raindrops beating on the weather screen were swept
aside.

She tuned in to the vehicle’s sensors. Damn
and blast. “We’ve been spotted. They’re closing the gates.”

A face appeared on the display screen; one of
Asbarthi’s guards, relaxed and condescending. “Bring the skimmer
back,” he said. “You’ll never get away with it. We might be nice
about it if you’d don’t put us to any trouble.”

Patronizing prat. The gate was already a
quarter closed. She gunned the accelerator. The skimmer shot
forward, but only for a moment. Her body lurched against the dash.
Blast. The system had sensed the approaching obstruction and was
making to stop the vehicle. She slammed the manual override and
pulled out the steering column as the vehicle put on speed. The
gate loomed through the rain, its tall metal leading post sliding
to meet a stone pillar. In the end it was barely a squeeze; the
skimmer rocketed through the gap and into the road, Morgan dragging
on the steering column to turn the wildly slewing vehicle in the
right direction.

****

“…and I’m expecting that Trimbal will do a
wonderful job of employment.” Asbarthi frowned and turned away from
his audience to the servant shifting from foot to foot at his side.
“Yes, what is it?”

“
A skimmer has been stolen,
Hai
Sur
.”

“A skimmer? Where? Whose?” This was
unexpected. And surprising.

“
From the drive outside. I don’t know the
details…
Sur
Barad said
to fetch you.”

With a quick excuse to his companions
Asbarthi strode out into the foyer where Barad hovered.

“
Hai Sur
Wensar’s skimmer was taken.”

“Who stole it?” Lakshmi said.

Asbarthi whirled. He hadn’t realized she’d
followed him.

“
We don’t know,
Hai Suri
, but we’re tracking it. It’s headed for the
central space port.”

Lakshmi’s lips curled. “It’s her. I’ll bet
it’s her. I told you she wasn’t happy.” She turned on Barad. “Is
that woman in her room?”

“
Suri
Selwood? Yes, she is. In her bed,” Barad said,
taking a half step backwards.

Lakshmi stuck her fists on her hips. “You’ve
checked? Gone and looked?”

“Well, no, but—”

“Do it. Now.”

Barad went, hurrying up the stairs.

“I told you. You can’t trust her.”

Barad returned, running, feet clattering as
he bounded down the staircase. “She’s gone. The window’s open. She
made a rope out of the curtain ties.”

Lakshmi growled like an animal. “Bitch.
Devious bitch.”

“Have you had the skimmer followed, Barad?”
Asbarthi said.

“I called the police. They’re waiting at the
space port.”

“I think we’ll track her ourselves.” Lakshmi
was wrong, she had to be. Just a bit of a temper-tantrum over
Unwyn. He was sure Selwood was happy to help them. Jones had been,
too. She had no reason to support the Mirka, especially not here on
Krystor. He had to catch her, find out what had happened. “Get the
fortified skimmer ready.”

“
I want to be there. I’ll go and change.
Don’t you
dare
leave
without me.” Lakshmi lifted her skirt in her hands and raced up the
stairs.

Asbarthi returned to the drawing room and
met Devagnam’s eye. Forcing a smile, he joined the host and his
guests. “I’m very sorry,
Hai Sur
Wensar, but it appears some reprobate has stolen your
vehicle. Our people are chasing it down as we speak.”

Wensar’s eyes bulged and his wife clasped
a be-ringed hand to her chest. “My vehicle? Stolen? How is
that—?”

“
Some locals, I’m told,
Hai Sur
. Never fear, we’ll have them soon. In the
meantime I’m sure
Hai Sur
Devagnam
would be happy to offer you accommodation.”

“Yes, of course, my dear fellow. Not a
problem. Look, why don’t you have another drink and I’ll have it
seen to?” Devagnam smiled, not very convincingly, and went out with
Asbarthi. “What’s going on?” he muttered, low voiced.

“
Selwood has run. Don’t worry, we’ll catch
her.”

Lakshmi strode down the stairs, dressed in
black pants and shirt, a holstered pistol at her waist. “We’ll get
her all right. Let’s go.”

The skimmer stood at the door, black and low.
Asbarthi and Lakshmi climbed into the back.

“Where is the target?” Asbarthi asked.

Barad, seated in front beside the driver,
switched on the screen. A red dot moved along a road. “She’s miles
ahead of us, moving fast.”

“Can you catch her?”

Barad snorted. “Of course.” He pressed a
control to set the powerful machine into pursuit mode, the
target
Hai
Sur
Wensar’s skimmer,
throwing the passengers back in their seats.

Chapter
Twenty-Eight

Morgan set the skimmer back into auto. Might
as well. They’d know where it was heading anyway. She sat back into
the plush seat, rubbing absently at the sore spots on her arms
where they’d scraped against the wall, while water dripped down
from her hair and her soaked clothes.

“
So,
Suri
,”
Ravindra said in his soft baritone voice. “I take it you are not
a
Bunyada
convert.”

She turned to look at him, at the half smile
and gleam in his eye. The guard’s dark green uniform seemed somehow
a little more than it had been. There was no doubt about it. You
could take the admiral out of the uniform but you couldn’t take the
admiral out of the man. He’d look to be in command wearing a sack.
“No. I expect you thought I was.”

“I didn’t like the idea. But…” His eyebrows
jerked. “The evidence seemed irrefutable.”