The Recollection (17 page)
“What’s that?” he said.
But before Kristin could answer, they heard gunshots ahead, beyond the rise. Two at first, and then three more in rapid succession.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
TICONDEROGA
As Kat and Enid stepped into the hotel lobby, Kat’s hand resting on the butt of her gun, ready to draw, the hotel’s automated security system pinged her implant; but instead of setting off the alarms, it noted her status as a Captain for the Abdulov Trading Family, and decided to mind its own business. Traders weren’t entirely above the law, but they were allowed a lot more leeway than the average citizen, and it was a brave or foolhardy planet that risked a trade boycott by enforcing its laws too stringently.
Kat stalked over to the reception desk, with Enid hurrying to keep pace. On any other world, she would have seen the lobby as small and functional, but here under the dome, where space was scarce, it seemed almost ostentatious.
“I’m here for Captain Luciano,” she said.
The clerk behind the desk gestured towards a set of open airlock doors at the rear of the room.
“I believe he’s taking breakfast on the observation deck, ma’am.”
The doors led beyond the walls of the dome, into a transparent tunnel that led, in its turn, to the wreck of a sunken starship, where it lay on the seabed, surrounded by the fossilised bones of long-dead marine behemoths.
The tunnel ended at the ship’s hull. In her heyday, she’d been a passenger carrier. Now seaweed waved from her hull, and Kat felt a twinge of pity as she stepped through the airlock. Inside, the accommodation sections had been pressurised, but the lower decks were still flooded.
> Good afternoon, Captain Abdulov. Welcome aboard the
Ticonderoga
. How may I serve you today?
Startled, Kat looked up. She hadn’t expected the old ship’s personality to still be functional.
“I’m looking for the observation lounge.”
Elevator doors scraped open.
> Deck Nine.
The
Ticonderoga
’s observation lounge turned out to be a hemispherical blister on the old ship’s muzzle, jutting out over the ocean floor. A transparent deck filled the centre of the bubble, allowing guests to look down as well as up. The effect was like stepping out into thin air, and Kat hesitated for a second before following Enid out into the room.
Brightness above showed where shards of sunlight filtered down through the clear water. Below, the sands were spiky with the skeletal remains that gave Vertebrae Beach its name.
On the far side of the lounge, against the transparent wall of the bubble, comfortable chairs were arranged in groups around low coffee tables, which in turn surrounded a circular bar. Potted ferns provided welcome sprays of greenery. Human waiters delivered drink orders.
On the way over here, Enid had explained that the hotel was a favourite with off-worlders and those seeking passage. Four of the tables were occupied by crewmen from various ships. Local teenagers sat at one table, self-consciously sporting spacer gear, trying to look cool. A solitary drinker sat at the sixth table, hunched over a half-empty glass, staring out at the waters beyond the wall. Kat slowed as she approached. Her hand hovered over her gun as she scanned faces, looking for Victor.
“Do you see him?” Enid whispered.
Kat didn’t answer. Instead, she marched over to the loner on table six. She didn’t know his name, but she recognised him from the confrontation on Tiers Cross, where he’d helped throw her out into the snow.
“Where is he?”
The man looked up. The black and grey bristles on his shaven head were the same length as those sprouting from his chin and neck. Broken veins webbed his cheeks, and a bruise had swollen one eye half-shut. The glyph on his shoulder marked him as Seth Murphy, Victor’s First Mate.
“You’re too late. He’s on his way back up to the ship.”
Kat clenched her fists in frustration. If she’d checked his movements on the Grid before storming up here, she might have been able to intercept him.
She turned to Enid.
“Let’s go.”
Murphy surged to his feet.
“Not so fast, Abdulov.” He jerked a thumb at his swollen eye. “I still owe you for this.”
He stepped out from behind the table, and Kat only had time to push Enid aside before the big man swung. She ducked his first punch, but the second caught her on the left temple, sending her crashing sideways into a potted fern. On the other tables, heads turned to watch the fight.
Smarting, Kat rolled to her feet. Her heart hammered in her chest. Blood roared in her ears. She couldn’t take her eyes from Murphy’s hands.
Smiling, he came for her again. His arms were longer than hers, his reach that much greater. She danced back to avoid his grasp. If he got her in a headlock or bear hug, it would all be over.
She backed away from the chairs, out into the centre of the
Ticonderoga
’s transparent observation deck. Murphy followed, hands raised, breath rasping, eyes filled with bloodlust.
Okay
, she thought
, time to end this.
But even as she reached for the gun strapped to her thigh, he charged her. She tried to step aside, but one of his hands caught the fabric of her sleeve and pulled her into a back-handed slap. Blood burst from her nose and her legs went out from under her. She staggered back and sat heavily.
“Had enough?” Murphy said. Through a fog of pain, she saw him standing over her, rubbing his knuckles expectantly. “Only Victor told me to delay you, but I reckon we can do so much more than that, don’t you?”
He leaned down and drew back his balled fist, ready to hit her again. But before he could, Enid lunged at him with a bottle, hitting his shoulder. He roared in anger and slapped her aside. Grateful for the distraction, Kat slid forward and kicked him in the knee with as much strength as she could muster. He cried out again, but his kneecap didn’t shatter the way she’d hoped it would, and he limped away, cursing.
Some of the crewmen from the other tables tried to break up the fight. They managed to drag Murphy halfway across the restaurant before he shrugged them off. Still off-balance, he pulled a pistol from his coat and they scattered like fish.
Kat’s hand flew to her own weapon.
“Let’s not do anything stupid,” she said. She still didn’t have the strength to stand. Murphy raised his gun, clasped in his sausage-like fingers, and fired. The shot was hasty; the bullet missed. Kat rolled to one side. Her flesh cringed in expectation of his next shot. She tugged her own gun from its holster, and raised it, only to see Murphy limping for the elevator.
Head splitting, she let her arm drop.
Enid knelt beside her and slipped an arm around her shoulders, supporting her.
“Oh, my God, are you all right?” Her blonde hair had been mussed and Murphy’s fingers had left a red welt across her cheek.
As the elevator doors closed behind him, Murphy laughed.
“See you in Hell, Abdulov!”
The doors shut. Kat let the gun fall from her fingers.
“I should’ve shot him,” she said.
Enid squeezed her shoulders. “He won’t get far, don’t worry. I’ve put out an alert. The police will have him before he reaches the surface.”
Kat wiped her bloody nose on the back of her hand.
“I should get back to my ship.”
“The paramedics are coming. Maybe you should wait for them first?”
“No, help me up.” She struggled to her feet with Enid’s aid. Her nose and temple throbbed from the blows, and her knees felt spongy and unreliable.
“I have to beat Victor.”
She tried to take a step but stumbled, ending up on one knee. Only Enid’s grip on her arm saved her from falling on her face. Below the transparent floor, the
Ticonderoga
’s hull curved down to the graveyard seabed.
“What’s that?” Enid pointed at one of the tables. Kat squinted. A bag sat beneath one of the chairs, and it took her a moment to realise that the chair was the one in which Murphy had been sitting before the fight.
“He’s left something,” Enid said. She started towards it but Kat held her back. Murphy’s final words echoed in her mind.
See you in Hell
.
There was a bang, and smoke billowed from the top of the bag. Without thinking, Kat fell to the floor, dragging Enid down. The air roared, and she felt a blast of heat. The deck bucked and smacked her in the teeth. Burning splinters fell around her.
The automatic sprinkler systems went off; water hammered into the room. Kat lay for a moment, letting it splash over her face. Her ears hurt, and her lip bled. Enid lay across her legs. Painfully, she rolled over. She saw people screaming but couldn’t hear them. The smell of scorched hair burned in her nose.
She pushed herself up onto her knees. Enid stirred.
Nothing remained where the table had been. The explosion had scattered broken furniture everywhere. Some of the pieces were burning. Three or four of the crewmen sported shrapnel wounds. One lay slumped in a pool of his own blood, obviously dead, a metal table leg punched through his chest. But something else had caught Enid’s eye. She was saying something, but Kat’s ears were still ringing from the explosion.
“What?” she said.
Desperately, Enid jabbed her finger at the wall. The explosion had weakened the skin of the observation dome. Spidery cracks ran up from the place where the table had been. As Kat watched, one of the cracks jumped a few centimetres in length, then a few more.
Enid screamed: “We’re eight kilometres down!”
Before Kat could react, the ship’s voice broke into her implant.
> Evacuate. Hull integrity compromised. Pressure seal in twenty seconds.
People started scrambling for the airlock doors that led to the elevators, and the safety of the ship’s main hull. But Enid couldn’t stand. She had a jagged sprig of steel skewering the muscle of her right calf.
> Pressure seal in ten seconds.
Kat grabbed her by the lapel of her jacket and, ignoring the pain of her own injuries, started dragging. She was halfway across the room from the airlock doors.
> Five seconds.
She heaved towards the threshold with all her strength. Hands were waiting there to help her, calling encouragement. They grabbed her coat as she got close, trying to pull her to safety.
> Four.
Her heel hit the lip of the airlock frame. Her hand jerked free from Enid’s lapel, and she fell back into the waiting arms of her would-be rescuers. Enid shrieked.
“Kat, don’t leave me!”
> Three.
Kat kicked and elbowed herself free of the hands holding her. She lunged desperately through the lock. On the other side, Enid reached for her. Their hands clasped.
> Two.
Kat pulled with all her might, but they were out of time. With a splintering crash, the glass wall shattered under the pressing weight of the ocean, and the room imploded.
VERTEBRAE BEACH GRID
NEWS HEADLINES
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
REVOLT ON LANCASTER
Anti-government troops declare victory.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
REPOPULATING THE OCEAN
Terrestrial species to be introduced.
Fish farming to commence next year.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
SHORTAGE OF PEP DRIVES PRICES TO ALL-TIME HIGH
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
INTELLIGENT LIFE?
Extinct indigenous shellfish may have used tools.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
SOME LIKE IT HOT!
New shipment of Italian chorizo sausage sparks fierce bidding war.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
ARCH FAILURE?
Fears of total network collapse.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TAX ON SEABED LIVING SPACE
Critics claim poor will be hit hardest.
Tax on oxygen next?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
SYLVIA ABDULOV REMEMBERED
New statue to commemorate centenary of heroic rescue.