I know how I’d feel if March disappeared on me. I’d want to kill someone. Shit, when Farr shot him on DuPont Station, I couldn’t control myself, couldn’t even think. I never felt that kind of rage before in my life. When I lost Kai there was too much physical pain, confusion, and disorientation, further exacerbated by the Unit Psychs and dream therapy.
Please make March stronger than me. Adele, light a candle for us on Mary’s shrine. We need all the help we can get.
At first, I wonder if it’s safe to beam out a message, but Vel assures me he is using a frequency unique to the Guild. So I try to simmer down, but the time passes so slowly. I get him to talk on the second day, learn why he became a bounty hunter. “It is not an entertaining a story,” he says, as if that’s going to blunt my curiosity.
“Tell me.”
“Females on Ithiss-Tor”—I remember that’s his homeworld—“are dominant. They take lead roles in government and in family hierarchy. Additionally, they are not always…gentle with their mates, a regrettable trait remaindered from more primitive times. Rather than remain on planet, I confined a visiting human and took his place on an outbound ship. I met my mentor, Trapper Harley—”
“Wait, you knew him? How old are you?” There’s no twitching mandible this time but I can tell by his drawn brows that I’ve been rude. “Er, sorry. Go on.”
He doesn’t, though. I’ve pissed him off, so that’s pretty much all the conversation until I doze off propped up against the rock wall. By the third day, I start wondering whether anyone is listening. Cheerful thought. Not only are we in danger of starving, the risk of freezing rears its head again.
As the ginger glow from the depleted chemical heater fades on the fourth day, leaving us in darkness, his comm unit finally crackles to life. It’s a live feed, too, means our savior is on planet, not bouncing a delayed message on a relay.
“This is Sheppard. In a spot of trouble, are you?” A crisply accented voice comes across, but I can’t get a look at its owner, the way Vel tilts the vid screen.
“To say the least,” Velith returns. “We need a pickup in the Teresengi Basin. I will pay standard rates, plus hazard bonus.”
There’s a long pause, then: “Shit, that’s a proper mess. Double hazard pay for even thinking of having a go at it.”
“What mess?” he asks, as I consider trying to yank the comm unit away from him.
The other bounty hunter sounds incredulous. “Where’ve you fragging been the last three days? Living in a cave?”
Can’t help but snicker as Vel answers, “Yes.”
“Oh. Well then. Farwan shot down some poxy terrorist. In retaliation, her people set bombs all over Ankaraj headquarters, demanding the head of the bloke that gave the order. They’re holed up with hostages, and the Corp’s shut down all air traffic within two hundred kilometers of the city, so I’m going to have a bitch of a time getting to you.”
March. I feel as though someone punched me in the chest. He believes I’m dead, or he wouldn’t be doing this. It’s vengeance now—he doesn’t see a way for us to win. In his own eyes, he failed me, failed Mair, so this is the only thing left.
Even though he told me his gift kills the soul, though I glimpsed the darkness in him, because he always tried so hard to do the right thing, I didn’t realize the truth, the scope. I rise to my knees, gazing into darkness. He would kill the world for me.
I have to save him.
Mair gave him back his soul. I can’t be the reason he loses it entirely. I won’t be.
“Triple hazard pay,” Vel offers. “Perhaps you can arrange land transport just before you reach the no-fly zone.”
Our potential rescuer sighs. “Greed’s going to be the end of me, but done deal. I’ll make the arrangements.”
“You would never abandon a Guilder in trouble.” Velith sounds a great deal more confident than I am of that, but credits always make a good case.
“Right. Send coordinates then. I’m on the way.”
I make sure the feed’s dead before I say, “You sure you can cover that? Won’t your accounts have been frozen when the Corp reported you flatline?”
He pauses in packing up the remaining gear, what’s still usable anyway. “Perhaps. But I do not keep my assets wholly within Conglomerate banks. I will have access to funds from investments on Venice Minor and Gehenna. Guild barristers will straighten out legal issues arising from any dispute of my existence.”
Now that would be handy. “I’m starting to wish I’d become a bounty hunter.”
With a neat tug, Velith ties up the bag. “If you had, think of all the fun I would be missing right now.”
I take my figurative hat off to the master of deadpan, just hope it’s not symbolic.
CHAPTER 52
Longest wait of my life.
But eventually, Sheppard comes through. He’s a lean man with deep-set eyes and a weathered face. We find him waiting for us at the base of the mountain in a trawler, big-ass hunk of all-terrain machinery. I have no idea how he got ahold of it, but I don’t care. Vel and I slip-slide our way down to meet him and pile inside. Mary, it’s so warm in here. Settling in back, I pull down my hood and start peeling out of the insulated gear.
Almost forgot I’m still in pajamas. Haven’t bathed in days, not since the hostel in Maha City. It highlights how bad off I am when I feel nostalgic about that shitty san-shower with all the scurrying bugs. Miracle my arm isn’t infected…Vel won’t let me look at his shoulder, largely because that would mean shedding the human skin keeping him warm. We take off in a rumble of treads rolling over the snow.
“Right,” Sheppard says by way of greeting. “We’ll have to make for—”
“Ankaraj. Please. Drop me as close as you can.”
“Your boy’s a bit mad, eh?” he says to Velith, ignoring me.
Boy. Shit, I forgot about my head. “I mean it.”
Vel glances up from whatever he’s doing. As soon as we got in, he jacked into the portal sys-term, sending spiders out to retrieve data at a speed I can’t even track. Watching his eyes scan back and forth as he reads makes me feel a little queasy. And then he compiles the info, his fingers deftly copying to a spike.
“Ankaraj,” he affirms. “Take us straight to headquarters.”
“You’re both barking mad. The city’s in lockdown, they’ll never let us in.” But a look from Vel seems to change his mind. I wonder how he’d react if he discerned what lurks beneath the unremarkable exterior, Guilder or not. “Right, Ankaraj it is then. We’re not too far off, though you wouldn’t have made it on foot.”
Glancing out at the stark black and white of the landscape, capped by a hopeless gray sky, I can only agree. We plow onward, and I find myself bouncing one leg until Vel reaches over to still me without looking up from the screen. “We’ve got them,” he tells me, powering the sys-term down.
Before I can ask what he means, the sun breaks from behind the clouds, reflecting too bright off the ultrachrome-and-glastique horror that is Ankaraj. Active defense towers, uniformed guards monitoring the expressway into the city. I see two squads of gray men trying to subdue the panic of a populace unused to open warfare. I can almost hear them crying out, “But we’re too civilized for such things, aren’t we?”
March, what have you done?
“I hope you two have got some idea as to how…” Sheppard starts to say, as the trawler reaches the checkpoint. “Oh, hello, Officer. It’s imperative that we—”
At that I sit forward enough that the guard can get a good look at my face. “I’m Sirantha Jax. And it is imperative that I reach my people. I can stop this.”
Poor bastard. He thinks I’m crazy at first, but then he glances between my bruised face and the ugly picture they have splashed all over the holo-feed. “But…you’re dead.”
If it weren’t so fucking urgent, I’d laugh. “Not so much. Let us in.”
That galvanizes him into action, and I hear his voice reverberate over the city comm. “Armed escort immediately. Clear the roads. First priority.”
Sheppard keeps stealing glances at me when he thinks I’m not looking. “You…you’re…”
“That poxy terrorist. Don’t worry, my reputation’s somewhat exaggerated.”
He sighs. “Right. And you’re his take, yeah?”
Velith shakes his head, looking thoughtful. “Quite the contrary. You will soon see, along with everyone else.”
I hope that means he’s got a plan. Surreal. I feel as though we’re leading a parade, so many armored vehicles behind us, and people following on foot, since the checkpoint seems to have been abandoned. As I wanted, Sheppard takes us straight there.
“One favor,” I say to our driver. “Bounce a message to this private sequence for me. Say, ‘I’m sorry.’ It doesn’t need to be encrypted.”
It’s all I can do, an acknowledgment of my failure—my only consolation is that Keri hasn’t been drawn into this mess with us. At least, they’ve got distance from it. Maybe they can start over, someday. Then I climb down without waiting for them to finish transacting Guild business.
A hush falls over the crowd assembled outside the squat, sprawling building that serves as the Corp home office. This is where I came to sign my contract, so long ago. I realize they’re looking at me, and I can only imagine the picture I present: bald, barefoot, coming into the cold wearing only bloodstained pajamas. I know I’m gaunt, my nipples making sharp points through my thin cami, but I don’t let myself shiver.
No weakness. Hold your head high.
People part when I pass as if I am the Holy Mother come to bless them or the Dark Lady come to reap their souls. To their minds, I’ve risen from the dead, which is as close to miraculous as most people ever get. Or perhaps it has something to do with the gray men closing on me. Velith holds up a hand, stepping between them and me.
“You shall not touch her.” His voice carries that terrible dual euphonic tone, and they fall back, cowed.
There’s something uncanny about Velith, but since he’s on my side, I don’t delve into it. “That’s best. I’ll stop this if you let me go.”
The squad leader glances at his men, then he says, “Stand down.”
I’ve never seen that happen before. He knows there’s no way I’m getting out of here alive. Already knew that, though. They’re letting me in because that’s exactly where they want me, and I can help inside, but getting out again, that’s another story. Once March releases the hostages and reveals the location of the explosives, we’re done. I know that; I just don’t care.
“Where are they?” I ask.
“Third floor, communications center.”
We pass into the neutral light of the building, although the floor feels no warmer against the soles of my feet. The foyer is deserted. I presume they’ve long since evacuated all inessential personnel, other than the hostages.
