Vanguard Page 6

  “What’s so special about Kosatka?”

  “I’ll find out when I get there.”

  • • •

  “What’s the problem?” Lochan Nakamura demanded.

  “That’s what I’m trying to find out.” The young and hard-looking man who wore a doctor’s patch on one shoulder pointed Lochan to a seat in the small infirmary that served the asteroid way station. “Shut the door, sit down, and shut up.”

  Lochan, his temper and patience both worn after a couple of weeks at the station, considered walking out. But he had learned to pick his fights, and there would be time later to turn this encounter into a face-off if he felt like it. He sat down on the indicated platform under a wall-mounted universal-scan.

  The doctor paused to touch a couple of commands on his comm pad, then fixed Lochan with a flat stare. “I’ve got nothing against taking sheep like you for all the money you’ve got. But there are lines I don’t cross.”

  “Which line is this?” Lochan asked, speaking calmly.

  “Human trafficking.” The doctor checked his pad again. “I’ve got a routine running that is spoofing the surveillance gear in here, but I don’t want to run it any longer than I have to, so keep quiet and let me talk. In three more days, a freighter is going to show up, saying it’s from Varaha. They’ll agree to take you on to there.”

  “Why is that a problem?”

  “I told you to keep quiet. That freighter will actually be from Apulu, where they need warm bodies to do unpleasant jobs. They’ll take you to Apulu whether you like it or not, and all of you will vanish as far as the rest of the galaxy is concerned.”

  Chapter 3

  “We’re going to be kidnapped?” Lochan said. “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “Why? Because of all the technology available these days? I told you, there’s a shortage of people in Apulu Star System to handle the sort of hard, backbreaking jobs that Apulu needs done and their own people don’t want to do.”

  “Forced labor,” Lochan said. “Why aren’t they using machines for those jobs?”

  “Because those machines may be commonplace in the Old Colonies, but they are scarce and expensive out here, and keeping them running is expensive. Importing stuff like that also costs a lot of money, but you guys have paid your own way out here.” The doctor bared his teeth in a humorless smile. “People are adaptable and versatile, and relatively cheap, and if one breaks they are very easy to dispose of. You guys will disappear, no one will be able to track where that freighter actually came from, the records on this station will be clean, and we’ll get a payoff from Apulu along channels that nobody can trace.”

  “What are we supposed to do?”

  “I don’t know. Not my problem. But I won’t let you go into that without being warned. If you can come up with an answer, more power to you. Here’s another warning. Don’t try anything while you’re still on this station. They’re prepared for that. I don’t want to have to put in all the work that might be required to fix you guys up after the riot suppression is finished.”

  Lochan eyed the hard young man. “What if I threaten to tell them that you warned me unless you help us?”

  Another false smile came and went. “I’ll say you’re lying. And before you say they’ll scan me to see if I’m lying, I’m the one who set up the parameters on the scans. I’ve already rigged them so they’ll always say I’m being truthful, and no one else on this station has the skills to know differently.” The doctor held up an injector. “I’m supposed to tell you that you’ve got a developing immune ailment that this shot will cure. It’s actually a compliance drug. Knocks down your ability to think independently and resist instructions. You’ve become the leader of your group, and the people running this station don’t want you leading. Lower doses of the same stuff will be fed the other refugees with you in your meals starting today. Just enough to keep them a little complacent until all of you are locked down on that freighter. After you leave this office, act a little confused, a little hesitant, like someone with a few too many drinks under their belt trying to play chess.”

  “Thanks,” Lochan said.

  The doctor nodded once, then tapped his pad again. “That shot should take care of it,” he announced for the benefit of the surveillance systems, putting down the injector as if he had just used it.

  “I feel a little dizzy,” Lochan complained, playing along.

  “That’s normal. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Um . . . okay,” Lochan said.

  He left the infirmary, noting just down the hall a couple of other crew members from the way station, looking very much like they were pretending not to be watching him. Lochan paused, looking up and down the corridor as if indecisive, started down the wrong way, then hesitated before turning and walking slowly past his audience.

  A brief, low laugh sounded after he had passed. Lochan pretended not to have heard.

  He spent the short walk back to the refugees’ living area trying to figure out how to let Mele Darcy know without anyone else hearing. He wasn’t sure how to get out of the mess they were in, but he was positive that telling Mele was the right first step.

  “Still not interested,” she told him when he suggested getting together in his bunk.

  “But I really need you,” Lochan said in a low voice. He lightly tapped the table in front of him. Three times fast, three times with a pause between them, then three times fast.

  Mele tilted her head slightly, regarding him, only her eyes revealing that she had recognized the signal. “Oh, why the hell not? Your bunk? Tonight?”

  • • •

  A communal hall wasn’t the most private place, so anyone wanting to engage in personal activities used blankets to offer a pretense of solitude. Mele lay on top of him, a couple of blankets covering both of them. Her murmur in his ear was soft but also full of warning. “This better be a real emergency.”

  “It is.” Lochan kept his own voice as low as possible as he whispered what the doctor had warned him of.

  When he had finished, Mele stayed quiet for a few minutes as she thought. “That doctor is right,” she finally murmured. “I’ve been checking things out. They can flood this room with gas, and they’ve got a good supply of antiriot gear. We wouldn’t stand a chance if we tried something here.”

  “What about on the freighter? Marines do that stuff, right?”

  Her breath gusted his ear in a very light laugh. “I’m one Marine. No gear. And they’ll be ready to lock us down on the ship. No. We have to take over the shuttle that the freighter sends for us.”

  “Then what?” Lochan asked. “There’s no place else to go in this star system, and a shuttle can’t jump between stars.”

  “We wait for another ship. I looked at the schedules before I booked this trip. It shouldn’t be more than a couple of days after we take the shuttle before another ship shows up.”

  She made it sound easy, but Lochan thought about everyone cramped onto a shuttle not designed for long-term life support and without much in the way of food and water. He didn’t have any better ideas, though. “All right. What do we do?”

  “They’re watching you. You act compliant like they expect. Keep everyone else calm. I know a couple of people who can help us, and as long as the way station crew keep their attention focused on you, I should be able to set things up. I’ve been careful not to act too smart, so they think I’m just a dumb Marine. They won’t watch me too closely as long as nothing tips them off.”

  “How are we going to go over the plan?” Lochan objected. “How are we going to decide things?”

  “We can’t hold planning meetings and debate options,” Mele said. “You’ve given me a job to do. Can you trust me to do it?”

  That was hard. That was really hard. His fate depended on whatever Mele did, and he had never been happy with surrendering control. Not in his business dea
lings, not in his political campaigns . . .

  Not in his marriage.

  And look how well that had all turned out.

  Maybe it was time to stop micromanaging the rest of the world and just focus on doing his part of things. Besides, Mele was right. The more they talked about stuff, the greater the chance the way station crew would suspect something and maybe even learn something.

  “All right,” Lochan finally said. “You trusted me from the start. I’ll trust you. I’ll do everything I can to make them think we’re all being nice, happy, dumb sheep so they won’t be prepared for any trouble, and they’ll tell whoever is on that shuttle that there’s nothing to worry about.”

  “And I’ll set things up to take the shuttle.”

  As much as Lochan had to admit that his knowledge of how to do things like hijack a shuttle was limited to what he had seen on action vids (and he had a strong suspicion that what action vids portrayed had very little to do with the reality of such things) it was still hard to accept. “What if you run into problems?”

  “I’ll let you know,” Mele said. “If everything goes fine, we’ll just talk openly like we have all along, but you’ll act compliant. Wow. It’s a good thing I don’t have to try acting compliant. I’m not very good at that.”

  “I’m not surprised to hear that,” Lochan said.

  “When I make my move on the shuttle, you back me, do whatever you need to do to help me, and keep the other passengers from freaking out.”

  “Okay.” A thought came to him. “Why are you sure I’ll be able to back you up when you need it? That I’ll be able to improvise whatever needs to be done?”

  “Because you’re pretty sharp,” Mele said. “If I do need to tell you anything, I’ll arrange another meeting like this. Otherwise, I’m off to do some thinking.”

  “You’re leaving?” Lochan asked, not being very successful at hiding his disappointment.

  She breathed a soft laugh in his ear. “Yeah. Sorry. You’ll get over it.”

  “What if I don’t?”

  “I’ll feel real bad about that,” she said with another laugh.

  Mele flipped the blankets off of them and slid away from him, leaving Lochan staring up into the darkness, frustrated and worried.

  Three days later, one of the way station workers casually informed the refugees from the Brian Smith that a freighter from Varaha named the Harcourt F. Modder had arrived at Vestri and would be sending a shuttle to pick them up in a few more days.

  • • •

  Carmen stood in one of the passenger lounges on the Mononoke, gazing at an image of Brahma’s primary world that floated in the center of the room. The image was incredibly detailed and updated constantly by observations of the planet. Her short-term roommate had left, to be replaced by someone else heading out from Brahma.

  She felt . . . anger as she looked at the planet. The only craters visible were ancient, the result of old, natural impacts. The customs officials had been almost comically relaxed and sloppy. The only armed guard that Carmen had seen was on a vid feed from the loading dock for the shuttle, and the guard hadn’t actually seemed the least bit worried about anything. Brahma was fat and happy and comfortable. It was one of the oldest of the Old Colonies, and had always been under the protection of Old Earth. The riches of the planet and the entire star system had barely been touched as yet by the growing population.

  Carmen imagined for a moment dumping half the population of Mars here, suddenly flooding this island of contentment with the hungry and desperate and ruthless. Then she felt ashamed for wanting to inflict on anyone else what too many already endured. Dragging down Brahma wouldn’t pull up anywhere else.

  But if only they weren’t so damned smug about everything. And so selfish in their smugness, thinking that because they faced no critical problems, no one else possibly could. Old Earth’s struggles and sacrifices were history, and the futures of others were not Brahma’s concern.

  Whatever she tried to do in the down and out, it would have to depend on the resources available there, not on assistance from the Old Colonies.

  • • •

  Most of the refugees walking through Vestri’s way station toward the dock displayed a mixture of weariness after their enforced stay in the Spartan accommodations combined with hope of eventually getting where they were going. Lochan walked near the head of the group, frowning slightly as he had since his visit with the doctor, as if unable to mentally focus.

  He noticed Mele with a group near the middle. Mele appeared to be completely carefree and wasn’t wearing her betraying earring, but a couple of those near her seemed visibly more tense than the other passengers. Hopefully, the way station workers would set that down to the final accounting payments that had just been wrung out of the visitors. Lochan, still playing the role of someone who couldn’t help but comply, had nodded in dull acceptance of every charge presented to him personally. If universal wallets actually carried physical currency, his wallet would have been much lighter by now.

  Any lingering doubt that Lochan had about the doctor’s warning vanished as he saw the three crew members from the freighter who were waiting to herd everyone on the shuttle. Two men and a woman, all with the powerful builds, sharp eyes, and lazy smiles of people whose job was to keep other people in line. All three wore long jackets that mostly concealed the shockers holstered at their waists, revealing only slight bulges on one side that wouldn’t have aroused concerns in anyone not already on the alert.

  As he boarded the shuttle, Lochan heard Mele giggle behind him like a harmless young soul without a single worry.

  The hatch was closing behind the last refugee when Mele tripped, stumbling toward two of the guards, who tensed then relaxed as she caught her balance and smiled sheepishly at them. “Get strapped in,” the woman ordered as if speaking to a child, pointing to the rows of bare seats.

  Mele half turned toward the seats, then erupted into sudden motion, her arms and hands blurs as they struck. The male guard nearest her slammed against the side of the shuttle, already unconscious, then the woman guard fell to her knees, both hands going to her throat as Mele followed up with a blow that knocked her out as well.

  The third guard had barely begun to shout and reach for his shocker when a short refugee named Lukas sucker punched him, following up with a series of blows that laid that guard down as well.

  Up front, a refugee named Cassie had already slapped a device onto the bulkhead next to the hatch leading onto the flight deck, and another next to the camera that allowed the pilots to monitor the passenger deck.

  “Everybody stay quiet!” Lochan warned as the rest of the refugees stared in disbelief. “These guys were going to kidnap us. We’ve got everything under control, and we’re going to get everyone out of this.” He bent down next to one of the fallen guards, finding, as he expected, that the guard had rapid-apply wrist ties in his pockets. “You and you, help me bind these guys. Mele?”

  She was by the hatch, accompanied by Lukas, both holding shockers taken from the guards. “Cassie rigged something to jam the camera in here and also a skeleton key to override the lock on this hatch,” Mele explained. “As soon as it works we’ll take the flight deck and lift out of here. Lochan, take the other shocker and get by the main hatch in case the way station workers figure out what’s going on and try to force it.”

  Lochan took the shocker, holding the weapon cautiously. Could he use it against another person? He took another look at the heavies who had been their guards and gripped the weapon more firmly, taking up a position by the hatch.

  The electronic skeleton key chirped softly as it broke the lock code, and the hatch leading forward swung open. Mele went through in a rush. Lochan heard the pop of a shocker going off.

  The warning light at the main hatch blinked, indicating someone was trying to open it from the outside.

  The shuttle
lurched sideways, bobbed upward, then began climbing fast, the refugees falling and grasping at any available handhold.

  “We’re all right!” Lochan called. “We’re going to be okay. Mele’s a Marine. You all know that. She’s got this.”

  “What the hell’s going on?” one of the refugees demanded. “Why would they want to kidnap us?”

  “Forced labor on Apulu,” Lochan told him and the others. “Just stay calm, and we’ll get through this. It’s under control.”

  He had wondered whether he could enforce his will on the group this way, but either his voice, his outer confidence, or the mild compliance drugs that had been in their food worked. The others got into seats, strapping down, as Lochan made his way forward against the force of the shuttle still accelerating.

  One of the pilots, knocked out by the shocker, was sprawled near the hatch. The other, sweat running down her face, was at the controls. Mele was in the seat next to the pilot, her shocker almost touching the pilot’s temple. Lochan had a vague memory that a shocker going off that close to someone’s brain could produce a fatal result, which explained the nervousness of the pilot.

  Lukas nodded at Lochan, smiling. “No worries.”

  “Thanks. You took out that guy pretty quick.”

  Lukas’s smile broadened. “When you’re a small guy, you learn how to take down big guys.”

  “Where do you want us to go, boss?” Mele asked Lochan, keeping her eyes on the pilot.

  He leaned forward enough to view the display before the pilot. The freighter from Apulu was easy enough to spot, only a light minute away. So were the symbols marking the jump points in Vestri. “Head for the jump point the Brian Smith arrived at,” Lochan said, pointing. “Any other ships coming in should show up there.”

  “How much endurance do you think this thing has?” the pilot snarled, her face tense with fear. “With all those people aboard? Life support won’t last more than a few hours.”

  “We can do better than that,” Mele said. “Cassie is checking it over now.”