Chapter 25 #3
The question made zero sense to Renner, but Wutala blinked, then narrowed her eyes. “Who burned my lab?”
“Orkutta Bryt,” Arco said the name with the deliberation of a croupier dealing cards on a betting table. “Works for Ho Piláol Holdings. Wholly owned by Amrak 438 Chemical.”
“What else?” One of Wutala’s hands formed a momentary fist.
Renner’s right knee chose that moment to give out.
He pitched sideways, face-planting hard into the blue-haired sifter’s shoulder.
Her heavy coat smelled strongly of industrial grease and stale sweat.
He purposefully wiped his snotty nose against the fabric as the telepath and the sifter roughly hauled him back upright.
Arco’s expression was unreadable, though the glacial stillness of her posture would be noticeable to people who knew her. “Our deal was for an undamaged Mr. Brenner.”
“We can extract the rest of the information from you,” Wutala countered. Confidence laced her tone, making it clear she would enjoy the challenge of breaking a famous journalist.
“You can try,” Arco agreed with disarming, terrifying honesty.
“I respect your skill with pain, and that you hire minders who are good at their jobs. But do you have the time? And can you tolerate the publicity? Everything I know about your operation is in Novo Granica’s auxiliary dataspace.
Someone else is bound to figure out what ‘moonshot’ means.
” Arco’s gaze turned diamond-hard, locking onto the crew chief.
“We’re late for a party. Give me Brenner.
” She held up her wrist, displaying a shiny percomp Renner had never seen before. “I’ll send your data.”
The tension in the dock space spiked, thick and palpable enough to choke on.
In his days under Davidro’s sadistic thumb, Renner would have been gathering lethal electrical power to salvage a deal about to go down twisted.
The best he could manage now was a desperate attempt to pull enough ambient charge to shock the two minders holding him, and maybe create a distraction.
Wutala tilted her head, her dark eyes studying Arco as if trying to decode a complex cypher. “I asked you once before. Who is Brenner to you?”
Say nothing, Renner willed Arco silently. Don’t give Wutala a lever.
Arco’s eyes flicked to him for a fraction of a second, then swept over Wutala’s crew.
“Yours is an unusual crew. You aren’t just jackals sharing the same cage.
You’re family.” She pointed a thumb over her shoulder toward her team.
“These are mine.” She shifted her chin toward Renner. “He’s my Khenzan.”
Renner had no idea who Khenzan was, but Wutala obviously did. She tensed, a flicker of raw, unguarded emotion crossing her beautiful face.
After a long, agonizingly tense moment, Wutala gave her people a curt nod. “Make the trade.”
Renner didn’t know what tipped the scales in Wutala’s head, but he was profoundly grateful. Arco’s power with words was remarkable. He had never been so fiercely glad to have her on his side.
The sifter and the telepath propelled him forward, then shoved him forward.
Tōn Ko and Minan caught him, taking his weight as he maintained his staggering, pretend-pinzai-head routine.
As they half-walked, half-carried him toward the exit, Arco stepped forward, executed a rapid biometric reset on the percomp, and tossed it to Wutala.
With breath-holding wariness, Renner, Arco, and the security team backed slowly out of the dock space. Wutala’s crew remained planted amidst the crates, their postures equally watchful, waiting for any sign of a double-cross.
The moment the heavy exit doors slid shut behind them, sealing them in the wide, chaotic terminal hallway, Renner straightened his spine.
He took his own weight, though he kept his head slightly bowed and his movements sluggish just in case Wutala had surveillance bugs in the corridor.
Minan efficiently slapped a secure comms earwire onto his jaw.
“N’Dwama will be here shortly,” Minan subvocalized over the team channel. “She’ll help you.”
“Where are we going?” Renner subvocalized back. He wasn’t entirely sure his words were decipherable. His lips and tongue felt thick, even less cooperative than his bruised brain and rubbery knees.
Arco’s voice filled his ear. “That ship that launched right after the crash was our ride off Mabingion. Probably didn’t want to be caught in the lockdown.
Luckily, our tall friends from the studio are having a party in the west terminal freight dock, and we’re all invited.
Unfortunately, we have to go through pissed-off passengers again to get there. ”
Renner’s foggy brain couldn’t make sense of the logistics.
Soleil and her Jumpers were here? At the spaceport?
And why were passengers mad? He swayed slightly as Tōn Ko guided him through a knot of stranded, yelling passengers.
For the first time in his life, Renner was actually looking forward to letting a sifter get inside his head to clear the fog.