Chapter 33
Hal reached the floor below, and Crane stepped out of the shadows.
“All good?” he asked.
Hal nodded. “You see anyone? Hear anything?”
“Nothing. I was about to go up to find you,” Crane said. “Things are too quiet.”
Hal nodded. “Let’s see what’s going on in the conference room.”
“Fiona wouldn’t let me put a lens in there,” Eazi said in his ear. “Otherwise I could have told you what was going on.”
A cold drip of unease snaked down Hal’s spine, and he shook his head. “We’ll manage,” he said.
The Grih’s need for privacy and a deep-seated dislike of being surveilled was a result of the Thinking Systems Wars.
Thinking systems had been banned for two hundred years, and as a consequence of the war, most spaces were lens feed free.
That Eazi had broached putting one in the inner sanctum of Grih Battle Center without their knowledge was alarming.
But Fiona had told him not to, and he had listened. That was something, at least.
Juy was right behind him, and Vistna and Crane trailed behind her. They encountered the body again, and moved around the dead Balcoan. No one said anything, but Hal could sense the tension rise as they were reminded that this was deadly.
As they got closer to the conference room door, Crane made a sound of surprise. Hal glanced over his shoulder. And froze.
“Vistna.” He said it as if it was a revelation. “You were the lookout at the front entrance for them.”
Vistna lifted a shoulder, his shockgun to Crane’s head. “Guilty.”
Juy’s face was slack with surprise. “But you’re . . .”
“Grih?” Vistna asked. “A ranking officer?”
“Both those things.” Juy took a step to the side, giving Hal room to move.
He’d appreciated everything about the officer since he’d met her. If he could, he’d get her transferred to the Illium.
“Who’s the dead body?” Crane asked. “Did you kill him?”
“I don’t know names or faces. I don’t even know if he’s a Grihan ally, or part of the team taking control of the way station.” Vistna’s lips twisted.
“Why reveal yourself like this then?” Juy asked. “Your friends upstairs are secured and you didn’t act then. The drone from Security is restoring comms and you didn’t try to stop that. If you’d kept quiet and played along with us, no one would have been the wiser.”
Vistna gave a short laugh. “That crossed my mind, believe me. I joined this little revolt because I’m against the thinking systems. A year ago, that wasn’t even a radical position to take, except now, it’s a Battle Center directive to get all the Class 5s on our side.”
“That still doesn’t explain why you’ve got a shockgun to Crane’s head,” Juy said.
“He doesn’t want us to open that door,” Hal guessed. “And that means there’s someone in there, helping him, who he’s trying to protect.”
“I persuaded them to help me. They trusted me. And then I discovered, after it was already too late, that the Balcoans were lying.” He half hunched his shoulders.
“We were supposed to jam the comms, and the Garmman were going to provide military support, and the Balcoans were going to take the way station back from the thinking system and that orange who encourages and supports it.”
“What are you talking about?” Crane turned his head a little in shock. “What are they doing then?”
“The Balcoans weren’t trying to get rid of thinking systems,” Hal said. “Neither were the Garmman. They were just trying to steal a thinking system of their own.”
“You know.” Vistna’s eyes widened. “Does Battle Center . . .?”
“Yes,” Hal said. “Do you think we don’t have intelligence? Do you honestly think we haven’t got people down on Balco?”
“I . . .” Vistna shook his head. “They told me they were going to look for the thinking system so they could destroy it, and they had to have the comms down for that, but to be honest, I didn’t think they’d find it.
Then they did. So quickly it took everyone by surprise.
So quickly, all our plans were upended.”
“Plans for what? Taking the way station by force?” Juy’s voice was incredulous. “Do you think Battle Center would stand for that without a fight?”
“Battle Center’s not going to oppose the Balcoans on their own way station by using force,” Vistna said. “And if the Garmman show up with a battleship and say they’re here at the Balcoans’ invitation, as protectors,” he lifted one shoulder, “what could Battle Center really do?”
“So where’s this battleship?” Juy asked. “And where are the Balcoans who are trying to take the way station?”
“They grabbed the thinking system and left.” Vistna’s tone was bitter. “And now I’m forced to expose myself to save someone I got into this mess. Someone who’s only motivation was to get rid of the thinking system running this way station.”
Hal focused over Vistna’s shoulder. “It’s better that he’s immobilized,” he said. “So we can question him.”
Juy frowned. “Who are you talking to? Do you mean the person in the conference room?”
“No,” Hal said, his gaze going back to the Scary Caterpillar, who was just behind Vistna, lifted up on its back legs so its head and forelegs were about waist height. “Can you not . . . do the usual?”
The Scary Caterpillar seemed to bob forward, and Vistna flinched, a hand going to the small of his back. He looked behind him, and flinched again.
His shockgun clattered to the floor and he fell, and Crane had to grab him and lower him to the ground.
Crane backed away when he finally noticed the reason for Vistna’s collapse.
“Thanks,” Hal said. “We’ll take it from here.”
The Scary Caterpillar looked at him for a beat, and then whirled around and disappeared.
“A drone, you said?” Juy asked, and her voice was a little wobbly.
“A drone. Controlled elsewhere,” Hal said. Although that was a lie. Fee had told him all the motley crew were self-aware—little people in their own right—although so far, they were happy to do whatever Paxe asked them to.
“What did it do to him?” Crane asked.
“It’s a tranquilizer,” Hal said. He hoped. “He’ll be fine in a couple of hours. And ready for questioning.” He turned back to the door and lifted his shockgun. “Now let’s get these people out, I’ve got other things to do.”
“Vistna really doesn’t know anything except what he was told,” Admiral Hoke said. She looked pissed off.
Hal leaned back in the co-pilot’s chair of the runner taking him up to the Illium, and grimaced. The pilot glanced his way and then kept her eyes forward.
“That’s what he said when he tried to stop us from getting into the conference room to rescue the hostages.” Falna had been in there, unconscious, injured when she’d stormed in earlier, but according to an update from Battle Center’s med team, she would recover.
“Nolan Greste, the friend Vistna was trying to protect, really does seem to be blindsided by the betrayal of the Balcoans. He grew up on Balco, you know. His parents moved there as immigrants from Grih, and his knowledge of Balcoan was one of the reasons he got a placement at Larga Ways headquarters.” Hoke shook her head.
“He also seems surprised at what a dim view his superior officers have taken at being held at shockgun point by him and the Balcoan that was in the conference room with him.”
“Was the Balcoan also surprised at the fact that the people he was working for had left the way station without taking it over?” Hal asked.
“Less so.” Hoke tilted her head. “I think it was a possibility in all their minds they may have to delay the take over while the Illium was hovering overhead. They had hoped the fun and games the Garmman were playing with us at the space boundary would keep you away, and when you arrived, it put a spoke in the wheels, so to speak.”
“They must have been thrilled to hear Fiona had left to spend some time on the Illium,” Hal said. “And that was Tean Lee’s idea.”
“That hasn’t escaped anyone’s notice.” Hoke tapped a long finger to her lips. “What’s your take on that?”
“Tean Lee rubs me the wrong way. Always has, but he might just be an innocent dupe in this. Someone could have led him to genuinely believe in a plot to assassinate Fee, and if that’s true, then he really was looking out for her, getting her off the station.”
Hoke sighed. “I agree. There’s not enough evidence either way.”
“Jaden Tris is another story altogether.” Hal thought back to Fiona’s admin, and wished he’d had the time to question the little bastard.
“Tean Lee’s got him in holding. He’s clammed up.”
Eazi had assured Hal there was nothing Jaden could tell them that Eazi didn’t already know or hadn’t worked out.
But Eazi had also told him that he’d lost contact with Fiona.
And that given the direction the runner had been going in, and the wall of interference since he’d lost their signal, there was only one destination that made sense.
“Eazi thinks they’ve taken Fiona to the old Tecran base in the desert.” The runner slowed as it approached the Illium, and Hal got to his feet, ready to head straight for the bridge when they landed.
“How? There’s nothing left.” Hoke frowned.
“Perhaps we were a little too trusting of the Balcoans’ assurances that they would dismantle whatever was left out there.” Hal wondered if their relationship with the Balcoans would ever recover from this betrayal.
“Maybe.” Hoke fixed her gaze on his. “Do you want me to send someone out there?”
Hal considered. “I do, but I’m worried if they’re seen, it might endanger Fiona more than she already is.”
“I’ll instruct them to go in stealth mode, land, and take hovers the rest of the way.”
“Only if they really can stay undetected.” Hal had to engage the Garmman first. He knew it, Eazi knew it, Hoke knew it. But what he really wanted to do was get Fiona to safety.
“I’ll send my best and stress the need to stay hidden.” Hoke made it sound like a vow, and Hal trusted her.
He nodded.
“Good luck with the Garmman,” she said.
He knew she would be listening in on the bridge, and probably would have the Garmman military leadership’s comms links within easy reach as soon as Battle Center had an idea of which way this would play out. So far the Garmman had been used as a threat, but a secondhand threat.
They needed to go to the source and find out what was really going on, and what their supposed allies were doing lurking behind a moon in Grihan airspace without permission.
The runner landed, and Hal saluted the admiral and jumped out into the launch bay of his ship.
Time to go to battle.