The Last Flight of the Argus (29 page)

“
Even if he doesn’t find this base, we might already be trapped.”

“
On the plus side, the asteroids are not stationary. When we launch the
Xendos
we could emulate their movements. Doing so might allow us to slip through.”

“
You don’t sound very optimistic.”

“
One should always maintain a sense of optimism, so long as it isn’t blind,” the Independent said. “Our advantage is that Lieutenant Daniels doesn’t know when we bailed out of the
Pilgrimage
and therefore has a lot of space to cover. We need to have faith he doesn’t get lucky.”

“
There you go, talking about faith again.”

B’taav smiled and pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket.

“
Here’s another list of material we need.”

Cer wearily eyed the paper.

“
Since you brought dinner, it’s a shame I can’t offer a movie in return,” B’taav said. “On the other hand, there isn’t anything quite as romantic as slaving over an antique engine.”

“
That's funny,” Inquisitor Cer replied. “I thought Rasp was more your type.”

Cer
and B’taav exited the
Xendos
and walked past the escape sled and to the main door leading into the station. It had been a while since B’taav was there and he found the rooms closest to the entry door tidied up and converted into living quarters for the rest of the passengers of the
Pilgrimage
. None of the room’s occupants, however, were present.

The two made their way through the narrow passageway and to the storage room. The rooms on either side of this corridor were used as offices during the Erebus War. Their interiors were visible through large glass panels. B’taav noted several small cots within. Some were neatly tended while others showed signs of use.

When B’taav and Cer were halfway to the storage room, B’taav detected movement in one of the dark, adjoining rooms. The person ran quickly out of a side door, as if in a panic.

“
What is it?” Cer asked

B’taav’s jet black eyes pierced through the room’s darkness. Inquisitor Cer followed B’taav’s gaze but was unable to detect anything.

“
Call the others,” B’taav said. “Tell them to come here,
now
.”

“
What is it?”

“
There’s a body in there. Someone's been killed.”

A communicator appeared in the Inquisitor’s hand.

“
This is Inquisitor Cer. I’m in the corridor outside the main storage room. We have a body in one of the rooms.”

She put the device away. It took a little while for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. When they did, she too saw the corpse.

It was a male. He lay face down on a cot. Sheets draped over him spilled onto the floor. The clothing he wore was white, but a large, dark stain covered his back. At the center of the stain protruded the handle of a knife.

Inquisitor Cer slid her fusion gun from its holster and cautiously stepped through the room’s front door. B’taav followed close behind.

The two leaned against a metal desk bolted to the floor. Cer tapped B’taav on the shoulder and pointed to a light switch. B’taav reached for it and the room lit up.

Inquisitor Cer aimed her gun in an arc, covering all corners of the space before her. The Independent approached and examined the body.

“
He's dead alright,” B'taav said.

Fresh blood covered the man’s back as well as the handle of the knife sticking out of it.

“
It went right through his heart.”

Inquisitor Cer’s rigid pose relaxed. The Independent and she were the only living occupants in the room. She approached B’taav’s side and, with the Independent’s help, gently turned the man over. The victim’s face was twisted into a mask of pain. He survived only seconds after sustaining this fatal injury.

“
Rasp,” Inquisitor Cer said.

B’taav’s eyes moved from the corpse and to the half-open side door leading out of the room and into a parallel hallway.

“
Whoever did this went that way,” the Independent said.

B’taav and Cer stepped to that door. B’taav inched his head closer to the threshold and listened for any sounds coming from beyond. He heard the shuffling of feet.

“
Someone’s heading down the hallway.”

Cer nodded. She grabbed the door’s handle and pulled. The door didn’t move. Its hinges were frozen. B’taav lent his strength to Cer’s and together they pulled it wide enough for them to pass through.

“
Only a small person could get through that crack,” Cer whispered.

“
You mean the boy? He couldn’t do this.”

“
Maybe he saw who did.”

The two stepped into darkness. Inquisitor Cer motioned for the Independent to remain behind her. He looked over the hallway and noted it extended forward and to the right. A third corridor, the one behind them, headed back to the landing bay.

“
Do you see anything?”

“
No,” B’taav replied.

“
Which way?”

“
I can’t be sure, and we’ve got three choices,” B’taav said. “It’s best we split up. You go to the right. I’ll scout back to the landing strip and the other hallway. I’ll work my way here and to you.”

“
You might run into the killer.”

“
If I do, I’ll appeal to their better nature.”

Cer reached into her jacket pocket and produced a small knife similar to the one lodged in Rasp’s back. Upon seeing it, B’taav’s eyebrows lifted.

“
Standard issue for Inquisitors?”

“
Standard enough,” Cer replied. “Take it.”

B’taav did as told, although he noted Cer’s fusion gun was now aimed at his stomach.

“
Don’t make me regret giving you this,” Cer said.

“
Inquisitor, we haven’t left each other’s side for the past day and Rasp was murdered only minutes ago. It's clear neither of us had anything to do with his death.”

“
The same can’t be said about the rest.”

“
We share that knowledge, at the least.”

B’taav examined his knife. It would be adequate in a close fight, but very inadequate should the Independent face someone carrying a gun. “If I see anything I can’t handle, I’ll yell.”

“
If you see anything at all, yell,” Cer replied.

The two split up.

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

B’taav
pressed his body against the cold metal walls and moved along the corridor. He inched his way deeper and deeper into the heart of the base. The area around him showed considerable age and neglect. A heavy layer of dust covered the floor and walls but heavy foot traffic indicated recent movement.

The Independent continued down the hall and stopped every few feet to listen. At one point he thought he heard the sound of someone moving in the area before him. The sounds died as suddenly as they began.

B’taav inched forward even more cautiously. In time, he again heard footsteps. The person making them was very close.

B’taav crouched down and stepped forward. He held his right hand and the knife ahead. After a few more steps B’taav paused and listened. A grim look filled his face. In spite of the darkness, he had located his target.

B’taav straightened up and took several more steps. The corridor took a sharp right turn a few feet away, and the footsteps were coming from just beyond that turn. B’taav licked his lips and eyed his blade.

Here we go.

The Independent was off, sprinting around the corner. The muscles on his face were tight; his eyes became thin slits and blood throbbed heavily through his veins. The darkness in his eyes was a cold void.

And, just as suddenly, the void and the tension vanished. B’taav slid to a stop and drew back his knife. Standing before him was the boy. His hands were bare. His face had the look of someone who had lost his way.

“
Nathaniel,” B’taav said. “What are you doing here?”

The boy walked forward, toward B’taav, seemingly unaware of the Independent’s presence. B’taav took a deep breath and allowed the last of the tension to leave his body.

“
Come here, Nathaniel,” the Independent said. He laid his free hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“
Your mother must be worried,” he said. “Let’s get back to the—”

B’taav stopped talking. He heard the sound of another set of footsteps coming from farther down the corridor. Whoever it was, they were coming fast.

B’taav pulled the boy to the wall and again drew his knife. The footsteps started as a hasty jog. They turned into a full run.

B’taav pushed the boy further back, toward the corridor’s turn. The Independent held the knife against the darkness. The echo of the footsteps increased.

B’taav’s eyes, so sensitive to the darkness, spotted the vague outline of the figure running toward them. It was a short man with a slight build.

He was carrying a fusion gun.

B’taav hastily picked Nathaniel up and rushed back around the corner.

As he did, the runners pace increased yet again. The approaching man spotted them.

Once around the corner, B’taav set Nathaniel down and turned. The running man was only steps away. The Independent leaned back and prepared to jump him the moment he rounded the corner. The man, however, stopped. He stood just beyond the corner, no more than a couple of feet from B'taav and Nathaniel.

B’taav didn’t dare look past that corner junction and, likewise, knew the man on the other side was hesitant to do the same.

“
B’taav? Nathaniel?” The voice came from around the corner.

“
Maddox? What are you doing here?”

“
Searching for Nathaniel. You have him.”

“
Yes.”

“
Don’t you dare hurt him.”

“
Why would—”

“
I saw the knife, B’taav. Don’t you
dare
hurt him.”

“
I have no intention of doing so.”

“
Good. Slide your weapon my way and come out with your hands up.”

“
I can’t do that.”

“
Why not?”

B’taav did not answer. Instead, he eased back a step while making sure Nathaniel remained behind him.

“
What’s this about?” Maddox asked. “Who gave you the knife?”

“
Inquisitor Cer.”

“
Why the hell would she do that?”

“
We found Rasp in his cot, dead.”

“
Rasp’s dead?”

“
Yeah.”

“
How?”

“
Someone stabbed him.”

There was a long pause.

“
Let me get this straight: You and Inquisitor Cer find Rasp. He's dead, the victim of a stabbing. So the Inquisitor, in her infinite wisdom, decides to give you a
knife
?”

“
Inquisitor Cer and I have been together the entire day. Neither of us could have killed him.”

“
Why should I believe you?”

“
Thanks to the camera in the
Xendos'
engine room, you don’t have to believe anything I say. Just look at your security footage. It will confirm everything. Did you put cameras anywhere else within the station?”

“
No,” Maddox admitted. “We only have the one. Looks like we should have brought more.”

“
Before we got to Rasp's room, someone exited through the side door. The corridor split, so Inquisitor Cer and I did the same. She gave me the knife, just in case I ran into his killer.”

“
You have any idea who did it?”

“
None. Up until now, the only people I’ve seen are you and Nathaniel. If I had to choose a suspect between you two…”

“
I have no reason to kill Rasp.”

“
As you put it so bluntly, Maddox, why should I believe you?”

“
Listen, Independent, for all I know Rasp is alive and well and you took that knife from Inquisitor Cer’s corpse. So now what? Do we spend the rest of the day here?”

B’taav noted movement coming from the far end of the corridor. Inquisitor Cer’s yellow hair bobbed in the distance. She was on her way.

“
Sit tight for a few more seconds, Maddox,” B’taav said. “The cavalry is coming.”

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

The
first thing to come out from around the corner was Maddox’s gun, held up gently by its barrel and pinched between two fingers. Maddox lowered the gun to the floor and released it. As he did, B’taav noted a dark stain on Maddox’s shirt sleeve.

When the gun was down, Maddox stepped out from his hiding place. His hands were in the air.

“
Satisfied?”

Maddox glared at the Independent. B'taav expected him to be relieved to see the boy was fine, but his expression remained stubbornly neutral.