Burning Bright

Avellar considered him for a moment—a fat man, still wheezing a little, but no longer leaning on the others—and nodded. “If you can get them out into gunshot, we can take them.”

Hazard nodded, snapped the power pack out of his pistol, checked the power remaining, and snapped it in again. “I’ve got about a dozen shots left. That should be enough.”

“It ought to be,” Harmsway said, and managed a grin.

“It’ll have to be,” Avellar said. She looked at Blue. “Do it.”

Blue closed his eyes, frowning slightly, and a moment later they all heard something stir in the corridor to their right. It was a faint noise, as though someone trying to be careful had brushed against an imperfectly balanced crate, but one of the guards heard it and looked up warily. Blue’s frown deepened, and there was a quick patter of footsteps, as though someone had darted across a corridor into cover. The guard peered out of the doorway, put up his faceplate to listen more closely.

“They’re buying it,” Africa said, and leveled his pistol.

Hazard laid a restraining hand on his arm. “Wait for the other one.”

Africa nodded, lowered the pistol again.

Blue was sweating lightly now, his forehead furrowed in concentration. In the corridor, there was another stirring, and then the distinctive click of a power pack snapping home into a pistol butt. The guard cocked his head to one side, listening, then pulled his faceplate slowly down again. Avellar held her breath, her own pistol ready at her side. There were no more noises from the corridor, a silence that seemed somehow ominous, more dangerous than the sounds had been. The guard held up his hand, and beckoned to his partner. The second guard came up to the edge of the hatch, but stopped just inside the heavy frame. Africa swore under his breath: the hatchway still blocked his shot.

“Come on,” Hazard muttered. “Come on, now.”

The guards stood still for a moment longer, obviously conferring via the helmet links. Then the first guard started toward the sound of the footsteps, and the second man moved out of the hatchway to cover him.

“Now!” Avellar said.

The others fired almost as she spoke. The first guard fell without a sound, sprawling on the warped floor tiles, but the second guard fired back blindly, dodged back toward the access door. Africa and Hazard fired at the same moment, and the guard went down.

“Did he get out a warning?” Hazard demanded, looking at Lyall.

“It doesn’t matter,” Avellar said, impatiently. “Let’s go.” She started across the open space without looking back.

Hazard glanced over his shoulder, saw Harmsway reaching across to steady Jack Blue, and smiled in spite of himself. They crowded into the narrow space between the doorway and the ship’s hatch, and Africa fiddled with the controls to bring the door down behind them. Avellar nodded her approval, and laid her hand against the sensor panel that controlled access to the freighter’s cargo lock. There was a soft click, and then a high-pitched tone.

“Royal Avellar,” she said, and waited. A heartbeat later, the cargo lock creaked open. Familiar people, familiar faces, were waiting inside the lock, and Avellar relaxed for the first time since they had left the prison complex.

“Thank God you made it,” a well-remembered voice said, and Avellar sighed.

“Danile.” She smiled then, careful not to look back at the others, particularly Harmsway. She had risked everything to get him back, and she had at least freed him from the Baron’s prison. The rest—his return to her rebellion, his proper place at her side—would come, in time. He owed her that, and he would eventually pay.

“We have to hurry,” Danile went on, “so everybody, get inboard now.” The hatch sealed itself as he spoke, closing off their view of the cargo bay. “It’s chaos back there, there’s nothing they can do to stop us. But we have to go now.”

There was a ragged murmur of agreement, and the group began to move farther into the ship, following Danile and Avellar. Underfoot, the ship’s main power plant trembled, building toward blast-off and freedom from Ixion’s Wheel.

Part Five

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Day 2

Storm: Roscha’s boat, Public Canal #419,

Dock Road District