Morgan's Choice (36 page)

Ravindra exchanged a glance with Prakesh.

“
Get out of here,
Srimana
.” Prakesh whirled, his blastech blazing blue
fire, and charged, the rest of the platoon right behind
him.

Morgan. Where was Morgan? She emerged from
under the trees. He grabbed her arm. “They’ve given us a chance.
Let’s go.”

Chapter
Forty-Two

Lakshmi scowled, lips twisted. “Can you be
sure they’re dead?”

Iniman beamed at her from behind his desk.
“I think we can be confident,
Hai Suri
. But I have a squad searching for remains.” He leant
toward her, elbows on his desk. “Mind you, there are creatures in
the forest which would make short work of a carcass.”

Asbarthi refrained from rolling his eyes.
Iniman obviously thought she’d like that answer. What a patronizing
know-nothing. He would have to be relieved of this command, at
least, very soon.

“Well, in that case, can we return to
civilization, Asbarthi? I’m sick of the wilds.”

She stood and wiggled her way to the window
to stare out at the landing pads where a Starliner was parked. Its
shining silver skin gleamed in the late afternoon light.

“In a few moments, my dear. I have promised
the people of Krystor Central a special fly-past and a special
fly-past they shall have. The flight is about to be launched.”

An irritated snort. “You go off and play
soldiers, then. I’ll wait here until the Starliner’s ready.”

****

Morgan followed Ravindra off between the
barracks where they would be less conspicuous. Shouts, screams, the
sudden scamper of moving troops, the clatter of weapons rose from
behind them. People were starting to appear, attracted by the
noise. Feet pounded on the roadway, coming this way. Responding to
Ravindra’s outstretched arm, she flattened her back against the
wall and prayed the owners of the feet wouldn’t look down the
alley. Or hear the hammering of her heart. A squad clattered past,
obviously in a hurry to get to the fight.

The blastech in his hands, Ravindra pushed
away from the wall and jogged down the alley between the barracks,
careful to keep in the shadows. They halted at the corner of a
building that fronted the landing pads. A showy ship with double
tails, a pointed, curved down nose and sweeping wings stood alone
on the pavement.

“Are we going for that?” One swift dash and
they’d get to the ship.

“If we must. It’s a Starliner, a civilian
luxury cruiser. It’s shift-space capable and at least we’ll be
comfortable. But I would have preferred something armed.”

Yep, so would she. Oh well, needs must.
“Ready when you are.”

Across the other side of the paving a
hangar door began to lift. They shrank back.

As soon as the door rose high enough, the
pointed noses of fighters appeared. CL30’s, the same as the Fleet
used, black pencil shapes, their wings tucked inside for storage.
Robot tugs pushed them out onto the paving, row after row of them.
One by one, almost like a coordinated dance, the wings on each ship
emerged from the sides. Crew came out, black-suited, donning
helmets as they walked.

“I think we’ll have to be a bit more subtle,”
Ravindra said. “People like us would not appear on the landing pads
during a deployment. We would stand out.”

“Fine. Maybe we can get flying suits, then.
I’d like that. I’m uncomfortable in this. I’d love a shower. I bet
I stink.”

“You do.”

She lifted her lip at him. “So do you.”

“We’ll have to get to the other side to the
crew rooms.”

“We just walk. Pretend we belong.” What’s the
problem? Apart from several thousand potentially hostile troops, of
course.

“You’ll have to leave the camouflage jacket.
But yes, the clothes you’re wearing are close enough to Shuba work
wear at a distance. We cannot walk together.”

“Uh-huh. Not done, huh?”

“That is correct.” The sides of his lips
twitched. “And you must skirt the edges of the field.”

“Fine. I’ll meet you outside the crew room.”
She set off around the edge of the landing pads. Where she came
from a lowly rating wouldn’t have the temerity to cross the air
field; it would have to be even more so here. Not casual, but not
over confident. She was a worker who did the menial tasks. Even if
her heart beat far too fast.

She gazed around as she walked, looking
for inspiration so she could keep up her pretense. Alleys were
always good. She was in luck. Right next to the crew room half a
dozen boxes stood on a dolly next to the bins. She rummaged. All
Empty. Morgan read the labels; Farnesi, manufacturer of quality
small arms, Jayas Emporium ‘for the best in uniforms’. She grinned
to herself. Nobody had to know they were empty.

Pushing the dolly in front of her, she turned
out of the alley way. The howl of engines reverberated in her ears
as the first group of fighters soared into the air. The next three
were already moving. None of the take-offs seemed urgent; just a
routine maneuver. Maybe even a practice.

No one took any notice of her as she lumbered
out of the alley to the front door of the crew room. She paused for
a moment as a few people came out, one fitting his helmet on as he
walked. A trooper, maybe a bit shorter than normal, stood a little
to one side as if on sentry duty. She ignored him and pushed the
dolly up the ramp.

Inside, she had a choice of a lift directly
in front of her or a corridor stretching in both directions. A sign
on the right hand corridor read ‘Flight Crew’. She headed
right.

“Hey. You,” a female voice said. “What d’you
think you’re doing?”

Morgan froze. Not gentle curiosity, this. The
words were tinged with suspicion. As soon as she turned around, the
woman would notice her eyes.

“Sorry,” Morgan muttered, slumping her
shoulders and trying to look small. “I’m looking for the clothing
stores.”

“Clothing stores? You stink. Let’s see your
ID.”

She’d stepped closer. One of those bullying
women who liked to use standover tactics. Morgan kept her head down
and searched in her pockets.

“What are you doing? It should be pinned on.”
She slipped an assault stick out of the holder at her waist and
made sure Morgan could see it.

Morgan kept her head down. “Yes, I know. It
fell off. The clasp broke.” Her interrogator was a little taller
than she was. She’d have to be fast and accurate. One more step.
Morgan lunged forward, grabbed the other woman’s lapels in both
hands and head-butted her. Hard. Full into her nose.

A gurgled grunt followed the crunch of
bone. Morgan willed herself to ignore the pain. The blow had hurt
her opponent more than it hurt her. She’d fallen backwards,
clutching her face. Morgan grabbed the assault stick from the
floor, activated the weapon with a flick, and discharged a full
bolt into her prone opponent. The woman’s body went rigid, then
collapsed. Good grief. She was starting to act like Ravindra. Heart
in mouth, Morgan listened for a pulse. The heart beat was too fast
but at least she was alive, even if she’d end up with a broken
nose, black eyes and one hell of a headache. What to do with her? A
quick check revealed the crew locker room was empty. They would all
be out, involved with that drill or whatever it was. Morgan dragged
the woman in, leaving the dolly in the corridor.

The lockers were locked, but that was all
right; they used technology, not keys. Breaking the pattern was
child’s play. Ignoring lockers with personal items on the shelf in
front of them, she opened one after another until she found a
locker with a suit. She peeled off her clothes, shoved them in the
locker and dressed before she opened the next one. Nope, too small.
She moved on. This looked better. She grabbed the suit and held it
against her body. The legs draped onto the floor. It ought to fit
him.

She
raised the helmet from its housing in the neck ridge.
Hidden behind the bland anonymity of the flying helmet, she bundled
up the suit for Ravindra and headed for the door.

He hadn’t moved.

“
Come with me,” she said, as a manesan
officer might to a lowly trooper. She headed for the Starliner
trying to look as if she belonged. Ravindra followed, close enough
behind for her to hear his footsteps.

Another growl of sound as another wave of
fighters took off. They’d replaced the spiral galaxy decal of the
Union Fleet with a new design depicting white mountains on a green
background.

The Starliner’s ramp was down.

She scanned, listening. Nobody. Inside,
she handed Ravindra the bundle and left him to change while she
checked the bridge, retracting the helmet as she walked. She hadn’t
seen one of these ships before. The Fleet didn’t have the simulator
on their data banks. She gazed over the bent nose as another flight
of fighters took off, their drives bright red in the fading light.
This transparent canopy afforded a view of all but directly behind
the ship. A bank of screens reporting all functions curved around a
black control panel. She had a choice of two seats; either one
would do. The ship had manual control override, a recessed joystick
and rudder controls, too. She hoped she wouldn’t have to use those.
Her eyes focused on the data port, she melded with the machine’s
processor. Fueled up, checked, ready to go. All she needed was
Ravindra.

“Ah. A pilot. How nice.”

Morgan’s heart jolted in her chest. Lakshmi,
her voice dripping venom. Fuck fuck fuck. Where was Ravindra? And
what could she use as a weapon?

“
Turn around slowly, bitch. Asbarthi still
wants you,
Saitana
knows
why. So I’m not allowed to kill you. Yet.”

Morgan swiveled the seat.

Lakshmi’s eyes glittered in triumph. A
soldier wearing a dark green uniform stood beside her, legs apart,
a handgun aimed squarely at Morgan’s head.

“I might have known you wouldn’t be dead.
Where’s your boyfriend?” Lakshmi said.

So they hadn’t seen Ravindra. And he had the
blastech. All she had to do was keep them occupied. “I don’t have a
boyfriend.”

Lakshmi’s hand shot out, striking her cheek.
Hard. “Ravindra.”

Morgan swayed with the blow. It hurt but
not as much as Lakshmi might have hoped.
Come on, Ravindra. Where are
you?
“He’s not my
boyfriend.” Nobody could call Ravindra a boy.

“No? Well, let’s go and talk to Asbarthi.
Then when he gives up on you, maybe I can have you.” Lakshmi’s face
twisted into an evil, superior smile. Morgan loathed the bitch.

“And then again, maybe not.”

Ravindra appeared in the bridge entrance
dressed in the black flying suit, the blastech held at his hip. He
looked very much the Admiral and he spoke in the cocktail party
voice, the one he used when he was at his most dangerous. She
almost melted with relief.

“At this range, a blastech will rip you to
shreds. Morgan, take the soldier’s gun.”

She reached out but Lakshmi leapt across and
snatched the gun before she could. Agile as a cat, the woman landed
next to her and grabbed hold of Morgan’s hair. “Not too keen to
shoot now, are you, Mirka bastard? You like your little freak,
don’t you? Screwed her yet? I’ll bet you have. Couldn’t wait to get
your cock wet, could you? Aren’t you afraid it will drop off?” Her
attention fixed on Ravindra, Lakshmi ranted, spittle flying from
her lips.

Now was her chance. Morgan lurched sideways,
throwing the other woman off balance. She tore her hair out of
Lakshmi’s hand, pushing aside the pain, and drove her head into the
soldier’s stomach. He doubled over with a loud ‘oof’. The gun had
skittered across the floor. She dived after it, swept it up and
fired in one motion. The soldier staggered and crumpled across the
pilot’s seat. A quick check of the power setting; unconscious, not
dead. A surge of relief.

Ravindra had Lakshmi in an iron grip while
she struggled and shrieked invective Morgan didn’t understand. He
turned Lakshmi so her back was against his chest. Even then she
kept fighting, snarling and spitting like a wild thing, aiming
kicks at his legs. He flung one arm across her body, caught her
chin in the opposite hand and jerked. A sharp crack and Lakshmi
went limp, hanging from his arms.

He let the body slide down to the ground like
a bag of refuse and stepped over it. “Is this ship ready?” He
pulled the unconscious soldier off the pilot’s chair.

“Yes.” Morgan swallowed. He’d killed her with
his bare hands. He hadn’t said a word, just did it. No glee, no
celebration. Her heart slowed back down to normal pace. Who was she
to judge? Given a chance, she would have shot Lakshmi. If he’d used
the blastech he would very likely have holed the ship.

“
Then take off.” The a
dmiral was on the bridge, even if he was
dragging the soldier out to the passenger compartment. Morgan
didn’t know what he’d do to the man and she wasn’t going to ask.
She lifted the ramp and put power to the landing thrusters for
take-off.

He came back for Lakshmi, then returned and
slipped into the other seat as the ship began to rise.

“You took your time,” she said.

“When they came on board I was changing my
clothes in the passenger compartment. I was half dressed. I knew
she wouldn’t kill you, so I preferred to appear with some degree of
dignity.”

“Well, I’m glad you were so sure of
yourself.”

He smiled, reached out and squeezed her knee.
Just for a moment before she had time to object. “Very.”

She felt a quiver right down to her groin as
an unwanted image of him with his shirt off appeared unbidden. No.
It would only end in pain, a pile of rubble instead of a heart.