Star Road (13 page)

Dense ... delicious.

The Seeker—
Ruth,
he reminded himself—had pulled back her hood ... or it had fallen back—as she ran to catch up to him.

In the diffused sunlight of Epsilon Two, wreathed by a hazy glow because of the humid atmosphere, he found himself thinking that she wasn’t so bad to look at outside of the dimness of the passengers’ cabin.

Maybe she was even pretty.

Too bad she’s one of those religious fanatics.

“Sorry to bother you, Mr. Gage.”

“Drop the ‘mister.’ Just Gage,” he said, nodding.

“Is it really so dangerous? I mean, where we’re going that we need a Council troop ship?”

“World Council seems to think so.”

He could see by her expression that his answer didn’t help, and he decided to soften it.

“Look. Don’t worry. We have a military escort now. So we’re much safer. Besides, the Runners aren’t the savages the media make them out to be.”

“My ... brother says they’re nothing but a bunch of bloodthirsty pirates.”

He caught the way she hesitated before saying the word “brother.” That hinted at... something ... some disconnect.

Thinking:
She has secrets, too.

“He ever meet one? A Runner, I mean. Face-to-face?”

Ivan smiled at the irony because here she was, talking to the Runners’ leader.

Former
leader, that is.

“I... I assume he has,” Ruth said. “He left home years ago and has been on the Road for a long time.”

“Well, let me tell you one thing,” Ivan said, stepping closer to her. “In my opinion, they’re fighting for one thing and one thing only.”

“And that is ... ?”

“Freedom of the Roads. For everyone. I would think you, especially—”

He took a step back and regarded her with a long, sweeping glance from head to foot.

“—as a Seeker, would appreciate and support what they do.”

“But they’re cold-blooded killers, too,” she said. “I can’t support violence.”

“And what the World Council does is okay with you?”

Ivan sensed his control slipping.

Could make a mistake here.

Got to drop my support of the Runners. And fast.

He shot a glance over his shoulder and saw the neon lights of the restaurant and bar. Its name was
far out.

But clichéd name or not, if he was lucky, they either had some very fresh beer or some very old whiskey.

“Now, if you don’t mind,
Ruth.”

Enough Seeker philosophy for now...

“I want to grab myself a drink or two before we hit the Road again. And when I drink alone, I prefer to be by myself.’

With that, he turned and walked away.

But all the while, he was aware of her gaze fixed on his back until he opened the door and entered the bar.

~ * ~

12

ON THE ROAD AGAIN

Ivan watched the female bartender
pour the brown near-bourbon—no one could make a profit bringing real bourbon all the way out here—with the enthusiasm of a lifer working a prison cafeteria’s creamed corn station.

Definitely not enjoying her work.

He spent a few seconds looking at her face. How did they get her to come out here?

Hopeless life on Earth? Promises of bounties, bonuses?

Maybe she just didn’t care. A lot of people didn’t these days.

Her eyes looked at the glass as she put it down, but they might as well have been looking miles away.

“Thanks,” he said.

The woman nodded automatically.

Then someone took the stool next to him.

The old guy... the miner.

“What he’s having, please.”

The bartender went to search for another glass.

Ivan sensed that the miner, elbows on the bar, was looking at him.

“Some kind of shit, huh?”

Ivan turned to the old guy.

The miner, probably a pro when it came to numerous Road trips, had slept most of the first stage of the journey.

Now, with a bar on offer, suddenly... he came to life.

“Meaning
...?”

“Troop ship? Escort? What the hell’s up with
that
bullshit?”

His glass appeared in front of him, and he took a big gulp.

“Doesn’t make any sense to me,” he continued, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Me as well,
Ivan thought.

But he said: “Who knows. Maybe there are Runners ahead. Maybe it’s no big deal.”

The miner narrowed his eyes and shook his head. Then extended a hand. “McGowan.”

They shook hands.

“Gage.”

The miner held the shake longer than maybe he should have, and looked into Ivan’s eyes.

A pro.

Someone who met lots of types on the road.

Maybe he can detect someone who’s lying?

“I’m thinking there’s something else going down. Don’t know what, but—”

McGowan killed the glass and tapped it against the metal counter.

“Another, miss”

Hard worker, hard drinker.

Suspicious, too.

“My guess is they’re escorting us for some other reason.”

Another slug. “And you know,
Gage
—”

Why the emphasis on my phony name?

“That makes two strange things that have happened so far this trip.”

“Two?”

“Picking up you—and now this.”

The man smiled, and his thick mustache curled up on either side of his mouth, almost touching the corners of his eyes.

“Kinda makes one wonder.”

Ivan was about to say that his being here had more to do with his engine shitting the bed than anything else.

And how could that be connected with the troop ship escort?

Except—even
he
had to wonder.

Once the World Council knew he had been picked up, that his mission for them might be in danger of being compromised, did they decide to provide a little extra insurance to guarantee he would actually make it to Omega Nine?

Because they definitely wanted that... some of them, anyway.

“I doubt that. See, when my Solo—”

“Attention. Passengers of SRV-66. Your Road ship is now boarding at gate four.”

The voice over the speakers echoed in the wide, open area of the way station, girded with shops filled with the bare essentials and one odd kiosk selling souvenirs.

Why would anyone want a souvenir of this place?

Ivan looked around and saw Jordan in the doorway. He was expressionless as he came forward.

“We’re heading out. Everybody on board—now!”

Ivan saw McGowan eyeing his near-empty glass number two. Maybe considering another?

Instead, the miner downed it and slid off the stool. He took some Council credits from his pocket and dropped them onto the bar beside his empty glass.

“Guess like a lot of things about the Road,” the old man said, “we may never know.”

As McGowan headed back to the SRV, Ivan sat at the bar for a few more seconds. He considered offering Jordan a drink, but Jordan didn’t look like the kind of guy who would open up, even after a few.

But that old-timer McGowan had him thinking....

~ * ~

Annie watched the passengers file in while Lahti checked a screen showing the freight manifest.

“Okay. Mighty full load there, Captain. Slowing you down at all?”

Annie shook her head.

The air here was so dense with moisture, like having a hot, wet woolen scarf wrapped around your face.

Might be good for the complexion, but it wasn’t the easiest stuff to breathe.

“Got plenty of power. No problem.”

Lahti nodded and lowered the screen.

“We’ll take the lead. You follow. We see anything ahead, we talk.”

Annie scratched her head, pushing a strand of hair to the side.

She wanted to ask the commander what this was all about.

Runners? Really?

The Runners could show up anywhere. In front or behind. What made this route suddenly so dangerous?

“You’re in charge,” she said grudgingly. “We’ll watch our screens, too.”

Lahti opened his mouth—probably about to say, no need for that.

Instead: “Let’s get going.”

Annie nodded and followed her passengers into the SRV.

~ * ~

Nahara had stopped at the top of the stairs that led to the passenger compartment.

Watching.

The captain and Lahti.

What the hell are they talking about?

Sharing goddamned secrets?

He rubbed his chin.

Then told himself:
Get a grip.

He started down the aisle, back to his seat. His nose was filled with the sour smell of his own sweat.

~ * ~

Jordan sat in place at the console. Ready. As always.

“Learn anything?” he asked.

“Yeah. That there are”—Annie let her voice mock Lahti’s—”reports of Runners ahead.”

Jordan glanced at her. Then went back to his readouts.

“You don’t buy it?”

“Do you?”

Jordan didn’t answer.

She shook her head. “Not much we can do about it, though. Is there?”

“Exactly.”

Lahti’s voice filled the cockpit.

“Ready for portal approach, Captain. Give yourself some distance for any maneuvers we may need to do after transit.”

“Right, Commander.”

She couldn’t bring herself to say “sir.”

The troop ship jets on the side began to fire, the blue flames almost invisible in the humid air.

The ship’s massive wheels had been tucked into the undercarriage of the gun-filled ship. Now the giant wheels lowered, the noise massive even inside the sealed compartment of the SRV.

A few troopers sat in turrets on either side, ready for anything once they went through.

The whole thing ... something to see.

Then, almost as if the troop ship was some impossibly enormous truck, it began rolling along the entrance ramp.

The same ramp they had entered, but now they would be climbing up curves, swooping down, watching their speed the whole time, making sure they hit the swirling vortex that was the portal at exactly the right speed and deflection angle.

With the troop ship moving, it was time for SRV-66 to roll.

“Here we go,” Annie said, pulling back on her wheel. She keyed the intercom. “All passengers. Please make sure your seat belts are properly fastened.”

She did the same and, although there was no need, checked to see that Jordan had. The SRV was like a mosquito compared to the giant troop ship leading the way.

Annie kept well back as the troop ship fired more engines and, with surprising deftness, navigated the twists and turns of the ramp. Within seconds, it was gaining speed.

Down to a screen—and she could see Way Station One disappearing behind them in a blue haze.

Now the SRV was traveling over trees the size of city buildings, and then down into gullies, past walls of stone and vegetation, to finally hit a flat straightaway before making the fuel-hungry charge straight up the final section of the portal ramp.

Annie checked half a dozen screens all at once.

All looking good.

“Whoa,” Jordan said, tapping the cockpit window. “Take a look.”

Flying things—Annie didn’t know what they were called—glided along beside the ramp. Their multicolored wings shimmered in the rays of sunlight that broke through the clouds.

“Got some friends,” she said

A few of the winged creatures ahead flew beside the troop ship, kicking hard with what had to be ten-foot wingspans to keep up with it.

Then they fell back, flying beside the SRV.

Close enough so that Annie could see the eyeballs of the one on her right. Filmy, huge ... with a big black marble at its center. The leathery skin around the beak and eyes was reddish but also streaked with faint shades of green and gold.

The beak, like a cormorant’s but striped black and white, was closed tightly.

This fun for them?

Or are they just curious?

But in seconds, as Annie left the last section and followed the troop ship up the last incline, the alien birds couldn’t keep up and fell behind, gliding over the treetops.

~ * ~

Ahead, she saw nothing.