The Star Thief (2 page)

Her hand played with the sapphire around her neck idly, and lost in her dreams, she barely registered the whimper until her implant squawked in her ear.

“Human presence detected.”

Renna froze, hand on her pistol. She scanned the rows of crates, the shelves along the back wall, but the warehouse stood still and silent. Damn this implant. It couldn’t be time for a new upgrade already.

“Report,” she ordered.

“Thirteen meters to the left. Crate 107.” The mechanical female voice was emotionless as always, but Renna’s heart thudded in her chest. She turned and stared at the number 107 burned roughly into the wood of the crate. The thing looked barely big enough to hold a dog, let alone a human.

Another symbol was burned alongside the numbers: a strange eye crossed by two spears. She didn’t recognize the mark. Maybe the crate was destined for one of the Outer Rim gangs. Were the Cordozas trafficking in slaves now, too?

The whimpering grew louder. “Is someone out there? Please help me.”

She stared at the crate, lips parted at the young voice. She twitched her heavy bag higher on her shoulder, glancing toward the exit.

So much for getting in and out quickly. This was a complication she couldn’t afford.

“Please! Help me! I know you’re out there!” The terror in the kid’s voice was thick and palpable.

Renna frowned. Took a step toward the exit. She wanted to help, really she did, but…

“Please. I’ve been here for days. I promise my uncle will pay you.” The boy’s voice broke on the last word, and she froze.

If that was the case, she would be more than happy to take the kid off the Cordozas’ hands. Drugs and weapons were bad enough. She shouldn’t let them get away with trafficking, too.

“Hold on, I’ll have you out in a sec,” she said softly, using the spanner to remove the nails from the crate. She stepped lithely out of the way as the front panel fell to the floor.

Renna’s eyes widened, but she was too good a mercenary to let any other shock show. Inside the crate was a cage, and inside the cage was a small, dark-skinned boy, half-naked. The smell of unwashed skin made her stomach churn. He’d obviously been there more than a few days.

She gritted her teeth as he cowered in the corner, his dark eyes shadowed and haunted. Bruises and cuts marred his chest and arms. She dropped to a crouch before the laser lock.

“What’s your name?” she asked gently, careful not to let her anger show.

“Myka. Myka Aldani.”

“Nice to meet you, Myka. My name is Renna, and I’m going to get you out of here.”

The boy nodded and crept forward from his corner.

“So where do you come from, Myka?” she asked as she tackled the lock with her tools. She tried to ignore how gaunt his bare chest was, every rib poking from his skin. Her fingers tightened around her nanospanner. If she ever ran into the Cordozas in a dark alley…

“I was living with my uncle in New Rome Colony, but my parents and I are from Banos Prime.” His voice stayed expressionless, and Renna nodded. Banos Prime had been destroyed three years ago. Most of the population had been wiped out.

“Were your parents killed in the attack?”

The boy stared at her silently before nodding once.

“I’m sorry.” Renna bowed her head over the last tumbler on the lock. What the hell were the Cordozas doing with this little boy?

The last tumbler fell into place, and the laser light shut off. “There we go. No problem.” Renna smiled at the boy and tugged the cage front open. “You’re free.”

He stared at the open door as if he didn’t believe his eyes.

And then the shrieking alarms began.

TWO

“Shit.” Renna glanced at the metal cage. How the hell hadn’t she noticed the golden tripwire coiled across the top? This was why she didn’t do jobs without prepping first. This was a rookie mistake, one she hadn’t made since she was thirteen.

Growling under her breath, she reached into the cage to grab Myka’s skinny arm. “Come on, kid. We need to get the hell out of here.”

“Scan perimeter for heat signatures,” Renna ordered her implant. “All exits.” Her heart sank as it showed all four guards reacting to the alarm. She clasped the boy’s hand and sprinted away from his cage. “Display alternate exits.” Her implant obeyed, and she almost wished it hadn’t. Multiple heat signatures at every entrance.

They’d called for reinforcements.

Beside her, the boy gasped, and Renna slowed her pace a little, remembering he’d been locked up for gods knew how long. She scanned each crate, each row of goods as they ran, looking for something to help them escape.

“Over here!” A man’s voice echoed through the warehouse. “The boy’s gone!”

Her heart skipped. Dammit. They were faster than she’d thought. Behind them, footsteps pounded against the concrete as the guards pursued. Myka gasped for breath beside her, his breath ragged and harsh. They had to find someplace to hide. And fast.

She frantically searched the schematics of the warehouse.
There!

A maintenance bay was better than nothing. They could hide there until she figured out another route. Going on the offensive wasn’t even an option. Her laser pistol would run out of charge long before she was done fighting her way out of here.

If she made it.

Stop that, Carrizal
. There was always a way out; she just had to find it.

They slammed through the maintenance door, and she sealed it shut behind them with her nanospanner. That should keep the Cordoza thugs busy for a little while.

Renna quickly scanned the space, barely paying attention to the kid doubled over and gasping for breath. The maintenance bay was a rectangular box with cement walls and a solid steel garage door. A workbench lined one wall, the tools spread out with surgical precision. She counted three nanospanners like her own, a laser torch, a sonic screwdriver, and a set of electrowrenches of varying sizes.

And then there was the shiny Radiowing hovering in the middle of the garage. The chrome body and supple leather seat were pristine. By gods, it was gorgeous. She hadn’t seen one in such good shape since she was a kid, and this was obviously one of the first gens. It looked a bit like the old motorcycles they’d had back in the twenty-first century, but instead of wheels, airlift wings jutted from the sides of the machine.

The perfect escape.

Renna grinned at Myka. “Ever ride one of those before?”

He shook his head.

“You’re about to.” She moved to the keypad on the garage door and began to hack it. Her fingers flew over the controls, trying to reset it to spec. It beeped, and the pad turned red. She tried again, a different hack this time. Nothing. Renna growled. She did
not
have time for this. A bead of sweat trickled down her forehead, and she swiped it away before trying a third time. This was unacceptable. She could hack locks like this in her sleep.

“Hey, lady?” The boy cleared his throat, and Renna spun around. He jerked his head toward the metal door. “I think they’re here.”

“Status check,” she ordered. Her implant returned three heat signatures outside.

There was a hiss from behind the door as a torch kicked on. Blue flame licked through the metal, and her heart fell to her toes. They were going to cut their way in.

“Damn.” She tried the keypad once more, but she knew it wouldn’t do any good. She was going to have to do this the old-fashioned way.

“Get on the bike, Myka.” Renna flipped open her holster as the torch cut through the door in a glowing line.

She swung her leg over the seat of the bike. Now if she could only remember how to start these things. They’d used something archaic like a trigger or key or…there! She spotted the switch near the base of the handles. She flipped it on, but nothing happened.

Myka glanced between her and the door but didn’t move. “They’re starting the second line,” he said. Instead of getting on the bike like she’d ordered, he stood solidly, shoulders square and arms tensed at his side. Like he’d fight them all himself before getting back in that cage.

She might actually like this kid.

Renna tapped her finger on the chrome body. When she was a kid, Big George had owned one of the first Radiowing models in the city. He’d paid her to look after it one afternoon when he’d come to collect his earnings from the prostitutes in the tenements. She’d played lovingly with all the gears and switches while he was gone and threatened the other children who’d come around with her stolen blaster. Most of them knew better than to mess with her anyway.

“Right. Got it!” She placed her feet carefully on each wing and pressed her toes down. The machine rumbled deep in its belly. She pressed harder, throwing her weight into it and turning the grip on the handle. It roared to life, the vibrations tingling the insides of Renna’s thighs. “Get on, Myka; we’re getting out of here.”

“Good. They’re almost through.” He swung a skinny leg over the seat behind her and grabbed her waist with a surprisingly strong grip.

Renna glanced behind them. The boy was right. She pulled her pistol from the holster and aimed at the keypad on the bay door. The explosion thundered through the space, the sound an almost-visible thing. Slowly, the mech bay door began to rise. Renna gunned the Wing’s engine, ready to kick off as soon as there was room.

“Miss!”

She turned just as one of the guards kicked at the metal insert. But the bay door was still only wide enough for a child to sneak through.

“Screw this,” she said, pointing her gun at the men. She fired off two shots, one hitting the first man in the arm, the other striking the man behind him. They both went down, immediately replaced by two more. And behind them, another dozen men waited in the wings. Her arm trembled. She’d never be able to stop them.

Instead, she directed her fire at the bay door. Her laser gun screamed as the beam passed through the door and weakened the metal. It would have to be enough.

Gunning the Radiowing, Renna leaned forward. “Hang on!”

The machine jerked and started forward, tipping and sliding drunkenly. She fought with the controls to right it. Then with a kick of her foot, the machine shot forward, directly into the bay door.

It crumpled with a screech. Renna ducked behind the windshield, letting the Wing bear the brunt of the damage. Flakes of shiny black paint sprayed over her as the fresh tint job disintegrated on impact. The bug screen shattered, glass flying in every direction. But the Wing was out of the bay and off the ground, soaring above the dozen men who ran screaming into the warehouse yard below.

It tried to roll beneath her as it climbed, and Renna tensed her muscles. They were still climbing too slowly for her to control it. Arms burning with the effort, Renna wrenched the Wing back in line. Below them, blasters shot at them from every direction. Her feet jammed into the accelerator, her hands twisting the handles to weave back and forth. Just needed to make it out of the compound. Once they were free, she could be back at her safe house in minutes.

The machine let out a low whine beneath her, and Renna glanced down at the controls. Her heart sank, suddenly as heavy as the Wing. “You have to be shitting me.”

The fuel cell indicator was nearly at zero, and they still hadn’t cleared the compound. That damn electric fence was getting closer by the second. And someone had turned it back on.

“Status update. Area map.”

The implant showed her the surrounding area. Beyond the Cordozas’ warehouse were three more empty buildings. If she could land this thing between two of them, she might be able to get them to safety. There was also a parking structure to the north. She chewed her lip and glanced back down at the fuel cell gauge, a plan working itself out in her mind. Could she risk it?

Bullets sang past them, the shouts of her pursuers echoing below. And then her blood turned to ice.

The hum of a hover car starting up. They’d overtake the Wing in no time.

At least it made her decision easy. She turned the machine north and kicked it into high gear, hoping to get some momentum before the engine stalled.

The ground below was a blur of men and machines and guns, but moments later, Renna and the boy cleared the fence and were free of the compound. Shouts of fury came from the men as they were halted by deadly electricity.

She risked another glance behind as the hover car shot from the garage bay. Dammit. She wasn’t skilled enough to make this thing do what she needed, and the fuel cell was dropping by the second. Her hair whipped around her face, and Renna leaned forward, as if that would make the machine go faster.

The arms around her waist tightened. Right. The kid. She’d almost forgotten about him in their escape.

“You okay?” she called over her shoulder.

He nodded against her back, though he didn’t loosen his grip. “Wish they’d stop shooting at us, though.”

“We’re almost there, but we’re running out of fuel. It might be a bumpy landing.”

“I can handle it.” Her eyebrows rose at Myka’s calm voice. Most kids would be a whimpering mess after all this. Of course, growing up on Banos Prime would make any kid tough.