Burning Bright

“But if it isn’t—” Lyall began, and closed her mouth over what she would have said.

Avellar answered her anyway. “If it’s not enough, then we fight.”

“Brilliant,” Harmsway jeered. “How clever of you, Royal.”

“Shut up, Desir,” Hazard said. “Avellar. Belfortune’s right, much as I hate to admit it.”

Avellar nodded. “We need a diversion, I agree. But to make it work, we have to get rid of the hunter.” She looked back at Belfortune. “Well? Will you do it?”

Belfortune closed his eyes for a moment, pain etched deep in his face, then nodded. “Oh, yes. What’s one more?” Lord Faro reached out to touch his shoulder.

“Then we’ll need to distract the rest of the searchers,” Avellar said.

“No, really?” Harmsway murmured.

“Yes, and you’re just the man to do it,” Avellar answered. She smiled briefly, daring him. “This bay is right next to the main computer nexus, Desir. Think what you can do with that.”

Harmsway said, “But why should I, Royal? Give me one reason, after everything you tried to do.”

There was a little silence, and then Avellar looked at him, her face absolutely without emotion. “I told you then. I’m telling you now. I need you, need your talent, to make up for what I lost when my sibs—my twins, the rest of the clone, the rest of me—were killed. I can’t take the throne without you.”

“To hell with you,” Harmsway said, and there was an odd, gloating note in his voice.

“I need you,” Avellar said again. “I came here for you, didn’t I? I did what you couldn’t do, I broke you out of the Baron’s prison because I need you. Isn’t that enough?”

“Maybe if you went down on your knees,” Harmsway said, “but not before.”

“For God’s sake,” Hazard said. He pushed himself to his feet, grabbed Harmsway roughly by the shoulder, and swung him to face the others. “If you don’t do it, Desir, we’re going to die.”

Harmsway lifted an eyebrow at him. “I’m surprised at you—”

“I want out of here,” Hazard said. “We can sort out the rest of it once we’re free, but right now, getting off planet is a hell of a lot more important than Avellar or the goddamn throne.”

“I won’t work with her again,” Harmsway said.

“So what?” That was Jack Blue, hoisting himself to his feet. “It won’t be as good, Avellar, but maybe I can do something if this shit won’t.”

Avellar nodded her thanks, still watching Harmsway, who smiled bitterly.

“All right. I’ll do it—if only to spare your talents, Jack.”

“Too kind,” Blue said, and achieved a passable imitation of Harmsway’s sneer.

“There’s only one thing,” Faro said. “How close do you need to be to a—a subject, Bel?”

“I don’t really know,” Belfortune said. “A few meters, probably closer.” He looked at Lyall. “Any ideas, Doctor?”

Lyall shook her head. “I wasn’t involved in that part of the project. I would think within two meters.”

Belfortune laughed softly to himself. “Do you know who it is? Which hunter?”

“No,” Lyall answered. “I told you, it’s shielded.”

“You’ll need support,” Avellar said.

Belfortune shook his head, and Faro said, “I’ll go with him. One’s enough.”

Avellar nodded. “Good luck, then, both of you.”

Lyall said, “The hunter’s coming closer. Moving along the east wall, toward the entrance there.”

“Careful,” Africa said. “You don’t want to tip him off.”

Lyall shook her head, and Blue said impatiently, “She’s not strong enough. Nobody can hear her, not unless they’re right on top of her.”

“Let’s go, Bel,” Faro said gently, and Belfortune nodded. Faro reached down and pulled the other man to his feet.

“Take an extra power pack,” Hazard said, and handed his last spare to Faro.

“Thanks,” Faro said, and he and Belfortune stepped out into the corridor. They turned left at the first cross corridor, heading east, toward the entrance and the searching hunter.

Avellar looked at the others. “Dr. Lyall, tell me when the hunter’s dead.”

Lyall winced, but nodded.

“And the rest of us?” Harmsway demanded.

“We wait,” Avellar answered, grimly. “Be ready to act when Lyall gives the word.”

––—

Game/varRebel.2.04/subPsi.1.22/ver22.1/ses4.25

Faro and Belfortune moved warily through the corridors, ready to duck under the shelter of the cargo racks at the first sign of patrolling guards. To their surprise, however, the racks and catwalks were empty, and they reached the eastern wall without incident.

“What now, Bel?” Faro began, stopped abruptly at the look on Belfortune’s face.

Belfortune was staring into the middle distance, pale eyes vague, unfixed, pupils dilating. He ran a hand delicately along the bare metal skin of the cargo bay’s exterior wall, a gesture unnervingly like a caress, and began to walk, slowly, a faint smile curving his lips. Faro, who had seen this before, this stalking hunger, shivered convulsively, but kept his place at Belfortune’s shoulder, gun drawn and ready, the spare power pack ready to hand.