The Last Flight of the Argus (19 page)

“
What does that accomplish?”

“
Use your head, Maddox. The Displacer's temporary fix is a great way for Daniels to get rid of everyone he knows isn't involved in Lang's death. Everyone here will be anxious as hell to get back to the Homeworlds and as far away from the
Dakota’s
guns as possible. Daniels' men, of course, pick and choose who gets to leave while thoroughly searching each vessel that goes. In time, whoever or whatever he’s looking for will be left behind on
Titus
.”

“
And then?”

“
What do you think? Erebus is a dead end. If Daniels doesn’t find who or what he wants, there’s nothing to stop him from planting a bomb in the Displacer and setting it to blow the moment the
Wake
and
Dakota
head out. Whoever is left behind—”

B’taav let out a bitter laugh.

“
Whoever’s left behind with
me
will be trapped on this station with no ship and no way home. In the unlikely event that someone in the Homeworlds should miss us, it would take them seventy five years using the fastest cruisers available to make it back here without a Displacer. I doubt anyone would bother.”

B’taav stepped past Maddox, pausing for a moment at the door leading back into the bar.

“
That’s
how far I think Daniels is willing to go.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The
following day moved slowly.

B’taav again ventured into the depths of the
Titus
station, alternately searching hard to reach areas and interviewing whatever pilots he might have missed the first time around. There were none.

Hours later, the Independent was back in his hotel room. He brooded on his situation. Military patrols, at first few and far between, were becoming a strong presence in
Titus
.

At a little after three in the afternoon, another announcement was sent through the station’s intercom:

““
Ladies and Gentlemen, this is
Titus
administration speaking,” the female voice began. “The following is an update on the condition of the Erebus Displacer. The crew of the EMC
Wake
and
Dakota
has determined that damage to the Displacer is more severe than originally thought. Technicians have measured a significant surge within the energy containment units. While this surge threatens the integrity of the Erebus Displacer, technicians note it only occurs when the unit is activate for periods longer than one hour during each solar day.”

“
Because of these unique circumstances, Lieutenant Daniels, the acting commander of the
Wake
, has ordered the evacuation of the
Titus
station. A lottery will be set up to allow ships to return to the home worlds free of charge. All ships given clearance to depart must meet the absolute minimum specifications for space flight. Due to the nature of the energy containment surges, all cargo must be left behind and all ships and crew will be subjected to a search to insure this is the case. This is for your safety. Those scheduled to depart and were given military clearance will be instructed on their exact window of opportunity to leave. They are expected to be prepared and ready to go when their time comes. Those who are unable to make their schedule will be sent to the back of the line.”

Outside in the hallway, just past the curtain door, B’taav heard people talking excitedly. They were ecstatic they could leave the now militarized Erebus space.

“
All vessel Captains are now ordered to report to the main flight deck to begin the lottery and receive their printed evacuation procedures. Good luck.”

A few hours later, the first lottery winners were announced and their vessels were scheduled to depart that evening. B’taav knew a long line of ships would be hovering just outside the Displacer by that time, ready to go.

It wouldn’t be long now.

The
next day, B’taav returned to the Jackal Bar. Although only two rounds of evacuations were completed since the day before, the place was almost empty. Almost everyone with a ship was waiting in their crafts, ready to go.

B’taav proceeded to the bar's counter and motioned to Maddox. The bartender laid down a dark drink. It fit the mood.

“
Daniels is doing what you said he would.”

“
I wish he didn’t,” B’taav replied. He held his drink up. “Here’s to you, my friend. Get out while you can.”

B’taav took down the drink in a single swallow. He laid the cup on the table and lowered his head. After a while B’taav turned from the bar’s counter and examined the place. A couple of scavengers huddled here and there, their eyes turned inward. Another scavenger, this one alone, read the digital clock over the bar and headed out.

On the opposite side of the bar, B’taav saw a yellow haired woman sitting alone at one of the narrower tables pressed up against the back wall. It was the same woman he spotted the day he confronted Lieutenant Daniels. Today she sat in the thick shadows. Her eyes were covered with a pair of dark glasses and she gazed in his general direction.

B’taav returned her stare, but was unsure because of the glasses if she was indeed looking directly at him. After a while, he gave up. The Independent laid a credit note on the bar’s counter and stumbled back to his room and its stiff bed.

B’taav
returned to the Jackal Bar the following evening. The Independent's face reflected growing signs of helplessness. He motioned to Maddox and ordered Pesan. Maddox delivered a cup of the volatile liquid, but B’taav shook his head.

“
The whole bottle,” he said.

Maddox gave the Independent what he asked and watched with little surprise as the man took it down. He had nothing better to do as there were almost no other clients to take care of. In another couple of days, he figured, there wouldn’t be anyone left on
Titus
.

No
, Maddox thought as he watched the Independent drink himself into oblivion.
That isn’t entirely true.

Maddox eventually left B'taav when a pair of new arrivals showed up. After serving them, he returned to his spot behind the counter. At times he looked B’taav’s way, but his eyes never lingered. After their last conversation, Maddox did not appear interested in talking to the Independent anymore.

Still, the bartender did his job. After a while, he offered B'taav another bottle of the liquor. The Independent took down half that bottle in less than twenty minutes. Afterwards, his movements slowed and his already sour mood dampened.

At a little after seven, the yellow haired woman with the dark glasses entered the bar. She was dressed entirely in black, as she was the last two times. She walked past B’taav and sat in the same table she took the day before.

Her icy-cool looks and calm demeanor intrigued the Independent. He stole half-hidden glances at the woman and left the remainder of his liquor untouched. After a while Maddox approached her table and whispered a few words. As he did, he looked at the entrance of the bar, as if weary of being caught in her company.

At ten hundred hours, two of Daniels’ men entered the Jackal Bar. By that time there were a little over a half dozen customers milling about. The flights out of Erebus were done for the day, and those few that remained in
Titus
decided to have one last drink before the next day’s scheduled departures.

Daniels’ men produced a computer pad. The younger of the two read off several names. Those listed were scheduled for the next evacuation. After their announcement was read, the men left.

Maddox nodded to the yellow haired woman. She was quickly on her feet and following Daniels’ men.

B’taav considered the silent interaction between two. Having nothing better to do, he decided to follow her.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

B’taav
shadowed the yellow haired woman through three separate corridor levels before somehow losing her. Some fifty feet ahead of him were Daniels’ men. They were oblivious to either tail.

B'taav stopped.

Slowly, carefully, he turned. The object of his pursuit stood behind him. Her right hand was hidden in her jacket pocket.

“
There aren’t many who can take down that much Pesan and still walk a straight line,” the woman said. She pulled the hand out of the pocket just a little, enough to reveal the fusion gun in its grasp. “You don’t look at all drunk. Not now, anyway.”

B’taav kept still. His eyes looked her over, determining the woman’s strengths and weaknesses, as surely as she did the same with him. After a few seconds of uneasy silence, she spoke.

“
Move. Nice and easy.”

B’taav did as told. The woman fell in place behind him. By then, Daniels’ men were long gone and the corridor before them was empty. B’taav continued walking until he reached an intersection.

“
To the right,” the woman said.

B’taav walked down that corridor until the woman told him to stop. To B’taav’s left was a bulky dock door. Visible through the window at its side was a small cargo craft attached to this docking berth. Worn black letters printed on her side identified her as the
Pilgrimage
. The woman tapped a series of buttons in the paneling beside the dock door. Air rushed into the vacuum beyond. In seconds a green light over the door flashed on and the security locks disengaged.

“
After you,” the woman said.

B’taav pulled the bulky door open and entered the dock corridor. The door leading into the
Pilgrimage
opened automatically as they approached. B’taav stepped into the spacecraft. He found a small, rectangular room with smooth metallic walls. An emergency kit was affixed to the far wall and beside it was a solid stormite door.

“
Have a seat,” the woman said. As she spoke, a gray slab slid out two feet from the far wall.

B’taav approached the slab and sat down. The cargo craft’s outer door closed and sophisticated clamps locked into place. The Independent heard a low hum and felt vibrations coming from deep within the ship. The
Pilgrimage’s
engines were warming up.

The yellow haired woman stepped before B’taav and pulled the fusion gun out of her jacket pocket. She kept it pointed at B’taav while she removed her dark glasses. Revealed was a pair of stony brown eyes.

“
Bad enough I’m threatened by the Epsillon Capital Guard,” B’taav said. “At least they’re on home turf. What brings a Phaecian Inquisitor across the border?”

The woman did not reply, although B’taav thought he saw the ghost of a smile flicker on the corner of her lips.

“
You know me?” she asked.

“
Not at first,” the Independent admitted. “Although there was something familiar about you. Now that we’re face to face, it’s obvious. Pleased to see you again, Inquisitor Cer. We met ten years ago. At the Pan-Pacific Business Convention.”

“
I remember the event. I don’t recall you.”

“
I was just another face in the crowd.”

“
That I doubt. What were you doing there?”

“
Our Epsillon business personnel were… uncomfortable around Phaecian delegates.”

“
And even more uncomfortable around Inquisitors?”

“
I was hired to watch you guys and make sure you didn’t take any liberties with the hosts. Fortunately for everyone, you behaved well.”

“
Either that or we did what we wanted and you weren't the wiser. For all you know, you failed miserably at your job.”

“
Always a possibility,” B’taav admitted. “I don’t mean to pry, but if I remember correctly, your personnel file stated you were in good standing within the ranks of your fellow Inquisitors. Yet ten years later, here you are, in a rundown station at the edges of our mutual Empires’ greatest trash heap. Are you still an Inquisitor, Cer? Or have you retired to pursue a lucrative scavenger job?”

“
I read up on you, too, B’taav. Congratulations on keeping such a low profile. Most files referencing your…work…have you listed as a ‘John Doe’, yet you are an Independent of some note among the business elites. The best I could determine, your career began shortly after the Tamarin campaign, some thirty years ago. You were listed as a soldier in that campaign, though given the enormous amount of casualties and the poor record keeping at the time, it is possible you were never a part of any battle, but rather used the event to launch your –how can I put this?- most recent
identity
?”

“
That’s very old news, Inquisitor.”

“
You’re also a proficient pilot. You’re experienced with small arms and underground work and you’ve shown up in various solar systems and, despite your best attempts to hide it, have always left some kind of mark before leaving. High level corruption exposed, narcotic rings busted, even black markets shut down. Sterling stuff. What exactly did you do to Lieutenant Daniels in Evalba, or is that a secret too?”