Treasure of Light (The Light Trilogy) (47 page)

Neil laughed again, this time loud and long, the sound bubbling up from his stomach. He let the mirth roll out over the suddenly silent government officers.

Tahn eyed him like a moldering lab specimen. “I gather you’re trying to tell me something, Dannon.”

“Indeed. Indeed! Though I’m surprised after fighting against him for so long, you could even suggest something so preposterous. If Jeremiel thinks you’ve cornered him, he—will—simply—shoot his way out.”

“But that’s suicidal!’ Millhyser accused, throwing out her flat chest. “No one would—”

“Well, maybe. But at least that way he’ll take a lot of you with him. And the more the better.”

“Ridiculous! He wouldn’t risk killing all his friends—”

“Better listen up, Tahn. Box him and you’ll have a hell of a fight on your hands. He knows the C-J class cruisers as well as your own engineers. After he’s wielded the weapons for a few hours, you’ll damn well wish you’d never invented them.” He tried to suppress the insane chuckle that shook him. Tears welled in his eyes—but not from amusement. “And if that doesn’t stop your attack, he’ll just adjust the tappers in the engines to drain your primordial black holes at a rate much faster than you’d feel comfortable with.” He smiled and threw up his hands, mimicking the giant explosion that would result. “Better nobody has this ship than you.”

The crew stared aghast, some with mouths gaping. Neil folded his arms tightly across his chest and squeezed, rocking back and forth again, trying to force the bitter ache from his heart and avoid stepping over the edge into the chasm that widened in his soul.

Tahn turned away from him, giving stern instructions to his officers. “Carlene, use your chemists. They’ll know every ordinary substance on the ship to make lethal gases from. I want them on it immediately. Tell your computer specialists to start looking for a way to break through the training programs and tap the main com. If we—”

“Yes, Millhyser said. “If we can do that, we can disrupt every system on board.”

Tahn continued, giving quick precise orders. People nodded, eyes lighting as they plotted how to take their ship back—and how to kill Baruch in the cleanest, least costly way.

Dannon jerked up his head. “Wait a minute.” Tahn turned to glare. “
We made a deal!
We agreed off Silmar that you wouldn’t kill him, you’d just—”

“Baruch’s
brillance
has left us no choice.”

He lurched to his feet, fists clenched.
“NO!
We made a deal! You promised you’d—”

“Sit down and shut up, Dannon! I’m not taking any chances Baruch might do this to us again!”

“But you—”

“That was then.
He’s pushed us too far this time.”

“Tahn, you filthy liar! WE MADE A DEAL!” Tahn took a threatening step toward him. Neil braced himself for the punch, but it never came. “You’ll still get your goddamned money, Dannon! Sit down!
And the Magistrates will probably pin a medal on your chest for helping us!
You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To be a galactic hero.”

Neil’s knees went weak. He dropped back into his chair and concentrated on the dull nauseating thudding of his heart.

CHAPTER 36

The security access tunnel stretched like a dark gray tube over Yosef’s head. He planted a foot on the next rung of the ladder which lined the full length and grunted as he pulled himself up. Sweat ran down his face and chest, soaking his collar and the constricted waist of his gray jumpsuit. Below him, he could hear Ari gasping and groaning protestingly. Too tired to move another inch, Yosef hooked an arm in the ladder and hung limply for a few seconds, catching his breath. Dim gray light suffused the shaft, landing like a heavy slate curtain over the walls.

“What are you doing?” Ari demanded. When he got no answer, he prodded Yosef uncomfortably in the butt with his rifle barrel. “Climb! I’m suffocating down here.”

“Put that thing away, before you put somebody’s eye out.”

“You don’t have to worry about that from this angle.” Ari grinned malevolently.

Yosef reached around to slap at the barrel until he shifted its aim—no matter how roundabout—from pointing at his head. “When they circumcised you, they cut out part of your brain.”

“You’re just jealous because I had enough left that nobody called me stubby when I was a kid. Now, move. We haven’t got all day.”

Yosef gazed back up the length of the ladder. “I don’t know why I let you talk me into things like this.”

“Would you rather take a transport tube and have every bubble-brain guard on the ship know what we’re doing?

“What
are
we doing? Jeremiel canceled all the search teams. He said he’d finally concluded Dannon must be dead.”

“Sure he said that. He’s waiting until a better time to smoke the rat out. Where’re your guts? Do you want him to have to do it all alone?”

Yosef shifted so he could scowl down at Ari. His friend hung like a gangly spider from the ladder, gray mop of hair sticking out at odd angles. “Where’d you learn such twisted logic?”

“Move!”

Yosef kicked at Ari for a few minutes to release his frustrations, then he gripped the next rung of the ladder and climbed.

Jeremiel leaned back in his chair. He’d dressed casually, comfortably, for this long night, wearing a black shirt and gray pants. He studied the pale green com screen as he sipped a steaming cup of taza. The slightly bitter flavor refreshed his tired mind. Music played softly in the background, one of the famed “Lost Symphonies” of Nikos Theodorakis. Beautiful in its melancholy, the sweetly lilting strains seemed to reach inside and soothe him.

He input a new series of commands—and waited, drinking more taza. When the screen flared, he scrutinized the weapons niches scattered throughout the ship.
Yes, that’s where I’d hide.
Many of the niches, as well as Tahn’s crew, clustered on level seven.

“That’s where you went, isn’t it, Neil?”

A storm vied inside him. Vestiges of old and abiding friendship competed with hatred. Memories were his greatest enemy. He could still see the light of the flames reflected in Neil’s eyes that desperate night on Ebed II. The rest of their team had been killed during the first day of fighting. He and Neil had been running through the burned city for three days, trying to reconnect with their unit—but Tahn’s forces had cut them off and cornered them in a battered warehouse. When Jeremiel had led the charge inside, he’d barely noticed that the roof was blazing over their heads. They’d scrambled heedlessly behind a tumbled mound of boxes and crates. The fire’s roar had nearly deafened….

“How many you think are out there?”
Neil had asked conversationally as he checked the meager charge left in his rifle.

“I’d guess twenty.”

“Yeah? That’s only ten to one odds.”

“Don’t you think that’s enough?”

As the flames swept closer, heat had seared their faces like a blowtorch.

Neil lifted an arm to shield his eyes and grinned devilishly. “Did you see that redhead? Um, um. Nice. If she hadn’t been in a purple uniform I’d have—”

“You’d have been dead in less than a second. She didn’t like your looks at all.”

“She just needed to get to know me.”

Jeremiel laughed. Neil had always done that to him—made him laugh in the most dire of circumstances. A crate exploded, sending a shrapnel spray of petrolon at them. They both hit the floor and covered their heads. The spray pattered against the mound of boxes.

“This doesn’t look so good, Jeremiel, old buddy.” Neil had shouted. “I don’t think we can hang around here much longer.”

“I think you’re right. I say we pick a direction, use our last photon grenade and pray.”

Neil had lifted his brows in amusement, rolled over onto his back and pulled the grenade from his pocket. “Jeremiel? You’re my best friend. I’ve never had a friend like you before. If we don’t make it out of this I want you to know—”

“Don’t get maudlin! Tell me tomorrow.”

Neil had given him one of those reproachful looks filled with warmth. “Always the sentimentalist! Well, all right. What direction did you say we were diving?”

Jeremiel forced the memory away, but not before an incapacitating ache straitjacketed his chest. He leaned forward over his console.
What happened to us, Neil? What did I do to hurt you so much that you’d….
Ruthlessly, he tapped his keyboard, requesting carbon dioxide readings for every niche on board.

“I know you’re on level seven. But I’d better search every area with weapons niches—”

A voice filtered from his door com into his cabin. “Jeremiel? Are you awake?”

Hitting the patch above his desk, he called, “Yes, Jonas,” to his new door guard.

“Lieutenant Halloway is here to see you.”

He swiveled his chair around to face his door and softly caressed his beard, wondering why she’d be here at this late hour. “Go ahead and access, Jonas.”

“Aye, Jeremiel.”

His door slipped open and she strode in, a look of quiet urgency on her beautiful face. Her purple uniform looked fresh.

“Have a seat, Halloway.” He gestured to one of the chairs by the table. “What can I do for you?”

“Jeremiel, I’m sorry to disturb you, I—”

He cocked his head incredulously. “Are we on a first name basis, Lieutenant?”

“Sorry. I…. How would you prefer to be addressed?”

She lifted a shoulder gracefully in apology and he felt a little ashamed of his reaction. “Well, since there are some names I’d rather you not use, I guess Jeremiel’s fine. May I call you Carey?”

“Please.”

“Can I get you a cup of taza or a strong belt of whiskey?” She looked like she needed the latter.

“Whiskey, please.”

“I thought so. You know, you drink more than many men I know.” He got up and went to the cabinet over his bed, pulling out the bottle and a single glass. On the way to the table, he picked up his taza.

“What an ill-bred remark,” she commented.

“Oh, you came to discuss breeding? That sounds like a refreshingly different topic.”

She smiled disarmingly, green eyes slanting. “Don’t get your hopes up. I also
hold my
liquor better than many men you know. Though guzzling is one of my newfound talents—developed since you came aboard.”

He smiled back. “Indeed? I’d have thought Tahn would have driven you to it long ago.”

“He’s not as bad as you think.”

“Our perspectives are different, I’m afraid.”

She stood very close beside him while he opened the bottle and poured her glass full. Her perfume surrounded him like a meadow of wildflowers. He gave her a sidelong look. In the bright light, her tightly clenched fists shone starkly white. Surreptitiously, he examined her more closely. She was fighting to keep her breathing even, but it wasn’t working. His brows lowered. Either the stakes were uncommonly high, or she wasn’t particularly practiced at this. Maybe both. Was she covering for someone? Tahn? A moment of panic set his heart to racing.
Had the time come?
He’d opened the route from Tahn’s cabin to level seven two days ago.

He quietly inhaled a deep breath and handed her the glass, noting with interest how long she allowed their ringers to touch before taking it. It sent a small tingle through him, just as she’d intended. Interesting. “Do sit down,
Carey.”

“I think I’ll stand.”

“Suit yourself.” He pulled out his chair and propped a boot on it, eyeing her speculatively as he sipped his taza. “What can I help you with?”

“Several of my people are refusing to train yours and I don’t—”

“Really? I’ve received no complaints from my staff.”

“Nevertheless—”

“I take it you’d rather I not threaten to kill each recalcitrant specialist?”

“Good guess. I think that might exacerbate existing tensions.”

He nodded amiably. “Well, I certainly can’t tolerate dallying or misdirection. What do you suggest we do about it?”

She gave him an uncertain glance, as though wavering about how to act. Were his suspicions that plain on his face? Or was she just uncomfortable with the role of trickster? Lifting her glass, she finished it to the last drop, setting it in front of him for a refill. He poured her another.

“Is this discussion difficult for you?” he asked.

“Not yet.”

“Do you expect it to be?”

“I don’t know.”

“Really? I’m disappointed.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Yeah? Why?”

“You’re a professional. You should have had your strategy worked out before you came in.”

She fixed him with a penetrating, slightly frightened look. “What do you mean?”

He shook his head deprecatingly and strolled leisurely back to look down at his com unit, stalling, giving her time to get more nervous. The screen fluttered, still processing the carbon dioxide data, but the preliminary figures told him a great deal. Definitely level seven, none of the other niches had any unusual levels.
Yes, go talk to Neil, Tahn.