Foreigner - Explorer. Part 41

"We should leave now, Bren-ji," Banichi said, and said in Mosphei', "Run. Now."

Sabin, Bren thought, realizing the finality of the next explosion. They had no idea where Sabin was. But Jago shoved him and Barnhart at the door and through it, Banichi and Ilisidi's men following, out into a hall where the third of Ilisidi's guards maintained one foot in the lift and held under threat of his rifle all the coughing, terrified technicians sitting on the floor. And he didn't see Braddock.

"We should go support Gin-aiji," Banichi said, and waved an arm, beckoning the frightened civilians. "Run! Go to the lift!"

The techs scrambled up and ran. Ilisidi's man stepped out, and Bren stood in the lift door and beckoned the techs. "Come on in with us. We'll get you to safety. Hurry!"

A handful hesitated, then rushed into the car; the rest scattered.

"Don't go back into Control!" Barnhart yelled at those that stayed, and about that time the charge blew. One of Ilisidi's men yanked Barnhart back into the lift and Jago shut the door.

Key. Bren shoved it in. The humans with them jammed themselves into one corner of the car, scared beyond speech and probably now asking themselves if they'd made the right choice.

"Anybody know fuel systems?" Barnhart asked, and in a silence aside from heavy breathing and the thumps of the moving car: "If we can't move the s.h.i.+p, we're all in a mess. Is Is there fuel?" there fuel?"

"There is," a smallish man said, coughing. "There ought to be."

"G-10, by the charts," Barnhart said, and Bren punched that in.

Bang-thump. The car started to move. Bren's heartbeat ticked up in time with the thumps and jolts the car made.

"All the rest of you," Bren said, keeping his voice calm, at least, "all of you just stay in that corner and don't do anything when we get down there. Chairman Braddock claimed you've rigged the fuel to explode. We're going to try to get past that lock to refuel the s.h.i.+p that's going to get you out of here and back to Alpha. When we get that done, you'll be free to do whatever you want-get your families aboard, gather the family heirlooms, or run hide in a closet on the station, which we don't advise. That alien s.h.i.+p is moving in to get its next of kin back, which Braddock has been holding prisoner for most of ten years. Now we've got him, and we're going to give him back and get the s.h.i.+p out of here. Join us if you like."

Banichi reached into his coat and pulled out, quite solemnly, several of the color brochures, which he offered to the stationers. "Baggage rules," he said.

The stationers took the papers very, very gingerly. Banichi smiled smiled down at them. down at them.

The car slowed. Bren hit lock lock, then pocketed his key: no car coming in-this one wasn't getting out. "I've locked it." he said to the workers. "Safest, to stay inside until the dust settles. One of my a.s.sociates will stay with you. Don't Don't put your heads out if you hear gunfire." He straightened his coat, glanced at Banichi and Jago, drew a deep breath, and looked out into the corridor. put your heads out if you hear gunfire." He straightened his coat, glanced at Banichi and Jago, drew a deep breath, and looked out into the corridor.

Deserted. But fire-scorched along the wall panels. Ceiling panels down, showing structural elements that themselves were potential sites of ambush. It looked as if, please G.o.d, everyone had deserted the place.

"h.e.l.lo?" he called out, playing tourist on holiday, looking, he hoped, not like a foreigner. "h.e.l.lo?"

Heads popped out of a room down the hall. Projectile fire went past him, and he hit the floor, flat on his face, playing corpse. Pellet-fire came from the room down the hall and projectile-fire came back from at least two sources.

"Bren-ji?" Jago's voice, from the lift car behind him.

"Cameron?" a hoa.r.s.e yell from behind him, from a corridor past the lift. Clearly someone knew him. He didn't quite peg it. "Cameron, get back!"

"Cameron, dammit! Keep down Keep down!" G.o.d, he knew that that voice. voice. Sabin Sabin. That came from still farther back down the corridor.

"I'm lying very flat," he called out to his own team, beginning to creep sideways, over against the same wall as the lift.

Heads popped out of the doorway up the corridor. The occupants fired. Banichi and Jago fired, Sabin's position far behind him fired, all over his head, and he scrambled backward along the wall, pus.h.i.+ng with his palms and knees.

Then a curious object whined along the decking, past his head-one of Cajeiri's toy cars, with something taped to the top. He was completely mesmerized for the moment, at ground level, watching it zip ahead down the corridor. It finessed a sharp turn, right into the appropriate room-Banichi had to have his head exposed, steering it: that was Bren's immediate thought.

The car went off in a white flash of brilliant light. A cloud of gas rolled out of that room.

Ilisidi's men raced past his p.r.o.ne body, as a strong atevi hand grabbed him by the scruff and hauled him up-that was Banichi-and another, lighter footstep came up beside him.

Jenrette. A white-faced, anxious Jenrette, gun in hand. d.a.m.ned right he'd known that first voice.

If Jenrette intended trouble-he had to admit-Jenrette could have shot him.

"Trying to follow Graham's orders," Jenrette said. "I knew she'd come here, if anywhere. Tell her that." to follow Graham's orders," Jenrette said. "I knew she'd come here, if anywhere. Tell her that."

Vouch for a many-times traitor, at this critical point, whose reason for not shooting him was far from altruistic? Sabin Sabin was farther down that corridor, down by the intersection, still under cover, not coming out into the clear. was farther down that corridor, down by the intersection, still under cover, not coming out into the clear.

Banichi, meanwhile, had joined Ilisidi's men. Jago had possession of the corridor, rifle in hand, and waited for them. For him him. For the key key, which he had, dammit and b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l!

"Stay down by the lift," he snapped at Jenrette. Barnhart had run ahead of him, halfway to Banichi. Bren caught a shallow breath and ran, too, on legs that wanted to wobble as if the emergency were already over.

Which it wasn't by a mile. The rules had changed, but the machinery in that room was still operating. If any of the techs inside had vented the fuel or set something ticking in that gas-filled room, they had a problem.

Next was an intersection of corridors, ambush possible. Banichi and Jago, masks up, entered the room, Ilisidi's men went to the T of the hall; and there ensued bangs and thumps from inside the gas-clouded room, bodies. .h.i.tting consoles, G.o.d only knew. Bren reached the door beside Barnhart, pulled his gas mask up, already feeling the sting of the gas. His limited view made out Banichi and Jago on their feet, and two lighted consoles in this moderate-sized room, two monitors lit-the techs who should be watching those monitors were on the floor, at the moment, coughing and struggling, and Banichi and Jago were kindly dragging them out.

The mercy mission exited. Barnhart headed in. Bren did. His hazed view of the monitors shaped a camera view of machinery on one screen in the middle of the consoles, graphs and figures on the other, the rest dark and unused. This place handled refueling. Controlled the pumps, the valves, the lines, the booms, and none of that was going on; but that monitor-that one monitor had what looked like a camera-shot of the fuel port; and that, more than the switches, was where Bren directed his attention.

If Gin was out there, he had no idea where; but if she'd gotten there, trying to take the power out-she was still at risk from anything wired in, independent of station power, and they couldn't communicate with her.

"We don't know where Gin is," Bren said, m.u.f.fled in the mask. "Hang on, hang on before we start pus.h.i.+ng any b.u.t.tons." He had his own communications, in the pocket com, in the handheld, and took it out uncertainly.

"That won't reach the s.h.i.+p," Barnhart said.

"Lights. Gin'd see that. Can we get an on-off? Let her know we're here."

Barnhart moved his hand over one board, looking for a switch in the haze, then reached across the board and flipped one. Camera view dimmed. Brightened. The spotlight on that port went off. On. Off. On.

That had to tell Gin she had help inside. That risking her neck had suddenly gone to a lesser priority, and she had time. had to tell Gin she had help inside. That risking her neck had suddenly gone to a lesser priority, and she had time.

And they, meanwhile, were faced with an array of b.u.t.tons none of which was going to be labeled blow the d.a.m.n fuel blow the d.a.m.n fuel.

"I don't think we should touch it, yet," he said to Barnhart, extending a cautionary hand. "Just guard it and get some of the s.h.i.+p personnel up-"

Shots rang out from the left hand of the door. That intersecting T-corridor-he could see it in his mind. Ilisidi's men. They weren't weren't safe here. They were far separated from safe territory. safe here. They were far separated from safe territory.

Shots became a volley. A firefight. And Banichi vanished from the doorway, headed leftward, leaving Jago alone to hold the door. As fire broke out from the other direction. Jago pasted a shot in that direction, and crouched down, delving into Banichi's black bag.

Bren left the consoles to Barnhart and joined Jago, hand on the gun in his pocket. "I can lock these consoles down, Jago-ji," he said. "We can make a run for it. Can we tell Banichi that?"

A sudden fire was going at either side, and there wasn't a safe place for anyone in the corridor, where they'd dumped the hapless ops center technicians. Banichi and Ilisidi's men stood their ground at the corner; while fire down the corridor was coming from midway and far down, and the technicians, crawling, attempted to go in that direction.

Jago was a.s.sembling another of Cajeiri's little cars with tape and a black box, and with a fast wrap of tape, she set it loose, steered it left, down the corridor toward Banichi's position and right around the corner.

"Twenty farther!" Banichi yelled out, and fired around the corner. "Farther, farther. Right turn-now?"

Boom!

Banichi and Ilisidi's men dived around the corner, not a second's hesitation, one covering their rear in the T, a thunder of booted feet on the deck and a second explosion. Jago squatted, a.s.sembling bits again, this one a k.n.o.b on a stick.

"I think I know the right switch," Barnhart reported from behind them.

"Not yet!" Bren said. His full attention was for the way he could watch, while Jago was on one knee, delving into the black bag while s.n.a.t.c.hing looks down the corridor the way they'd come. The technicians they'd evicted had made it halfway to the lift, crawling the distance, coughing and half-blind. Beyond the lift, where the third of Ilisidi's men maintained position with, presumably, Jenrette, and a handful of stationers, Sabin was still down there under cover-about, he thought, at the next T-intersection. Whoever was firing up the hall was farther off than that, bad for aim, but not comfortable for them getting back to the lift.

Jago made a ripping move, stepped full into the corridor and made a throw with all the considerable strength of her arm. She ducked back as fire came at her, as the grenade hit the decking and exploded in a cascade of ceiling and wall panels.

A section door went shut down there, likely automatic at the explosion, possibly sealing off someone's retreat.

"It's sealed that direction," he said; and about that time another door opened and fire came out toward them. "d.a.m.n!"

Jago was on the pocket com, advising Banichi: the things operated independently on short range and searched for signal. "The section sealed in our direction, but we have another site two doors off the lift, nadi, do you hear?"

"One hears," Banichi seemed to say, difficult to understand.

"We have cleared this corridor. It would be wise to close our section door."

That took a key. took a key.

"I'm coming," Bren said, springing up. "Tell him I'm coming."

"Nadi!" Jago protested; but he wasn't the shot she was, and she she protected the fuel supply. Momentarily expendable, he ran, hung a tight right at the intersection, almost into one of Ilisidi's men, and down the hall where Banichi waited. protected the fuel supply. Momentarily expendable, he ran, hung a tight right at the intersection, almost into one of Ilisidi's men, and down the hall where Banichi waited.

Banichi hadn't wanted him him, he was sure of that as he shoved his key into section control and got the control panel open. "One is long out of practice, nadi, with the gun." Section door close Section door close was a two-fingered operation, and he did it, fast. That door cut off anyone coming from that direction. "Better Jago holds that door." Another breath. He had a st.i.tch in his side from the sprint he'd done. "One or more enemies with a pellet rifle at the end of the corridor; Jago has thrown a grenade down there. Jenrette should be in the lift and I think Sabin is somewhere between us and our enemies. We have tried to signal Gin-aiji. was a two-fingered operation, and he did it, fast. That door cut off anyone coming from that direction. "Better Jago holds that door." Another breath. He had a st.i.tch in his side from the sprint he'd done. "One or more enemies with a pellet rifle at the end of the corridor; Jago has thrown a grenade down there. Jenrette should be in the lift and I think Sabin is somewhere between us and our enemies. We have tried to signal Gin-aiji. Everyone Everyone is here." is here."

"For the fuel," Banichi said, sensibly, and pushed him along, back down the corridor toward the intersection. "For control of that commodity. Which we desperately need. All sides will come here. But one takes it there is fuel to defend." They reached the corner, where Ilisidi's two men stood on opposite arms of the T. "So we have it, and we shall hold it."

"Sabin's got s.h.i.+p's security with her." Out of breath, thoughts jarred loose in his brain. "Jenrette knew Sabin-aiji would come here. She never went to Central."

"She cannot have been here long."

"We made a great deal of noise upstairs. There may have been a standoff, if only in the last hour. But that Jenrette is here, too-one cannot trust him, Banichi-ji. We cannot trust him, and I sent him to the lift!"

Banichi took out his pocket com. "Kasari-ji, disarm the s.h.i.+p-human immediately."

Banichi had the com close to his ear. Bren strained to hear, glad there was a reply-not glad that a frown touched Banichi's face.

"Jenrette never went to the lift," Banichi reported, and said, via com: "If he arrives, disarm him."

"He must have moved toward Sabin's position," Bren said. "Jase has banned him from the s.h.i.+p unless he comes with her, but I by no means rely on his man'chi."

"This relies on human thinking," Banichi said to him, "which is notoriously convolute."

"Simple, in this case, nadi-ji. His man'chi may lie with Braddock. Kill Sabin, kill all the s.h.i.+p's senior security, and board with Braddock, trying to take equal power with Jase-aiji during negotiations with the alien s.h.i.+p. Or ally with her, and Braddock. Get aboard. And strike at Jase and the dowager by treachery in the homeward voyage-perhaps taking possession of Tabini's heir, to strike at Shejidan. This thing might have either of two paths, but one destination."

One might expect Banichi to be appalled: but Banichi, reloading his gun, shrugged. "Greatly discounting Cenedi."

"I would never discount Cenedi."

"Nor would I." Banichi employed his pocket com a second time. "Nadiin-ji, Bren marks Jenrette as dangerous."

It was a death sentence. I would never, he wanted to say. Civilized Mospheirans had process of law, of courts, of appeals and debates.

In the aiji's court-there was Banichi's Guild. And here was no place to file Intent. Only to move on targets until there was leisure for consideration.

Click. Banichi reloaded his second gun.

"Go to Jago," Banichi said. "We will find Jenrette." will find Jenrette."

"No, nadi. He will have appealed to Sabin with a lie. I can deny that." He took out his own gun, that long-ago gift, not sure he could hit the opposing wall after years of no practice, but it posed at least a visible threat. "My presence is absolutely necessary."

"Movement," Anaro reported, Ilisidi's man, next to them, never having taken his eyes off the intersecting corridor.

Bren looked. At that farthest intersection before the closed door, dim with smoke-haze and Jago's having blown the lighting down there, a handful of humans had come out of hiding, headed up the corridor toward the lift. Sabin. He could make out the silver hair. A dozen or so of her security. He didn't see Jenrette, and that was worrisome. If Jenrette had communications, and was in touch with Braddock- "Sabin!" Bren yelled. "Look out!"

Fastest he could think, and the desired result: her security moved to protect her her, bodies between her and any conceivable threat, and up against the wall, trying to get to the lift.

"Sabin, we're in the lift! That's safe!"

Fire broke out from the place Jenrette had occupied before, the intersecting hall a little down from the lift. Two of Sabin's party went down, a third hit.

Banichi ran; Bren dived after him, a hard sprint down the corridor toward what had become a firefight. They pa.s.sed Jago's position; pa.s.sed the lift, where Kasari held the doorway, no one in position to get the sniper that was taking down Sabin's guard.

The sniper put his head and his sidearm around the corner.

Banichi braked so fast Bren nearly hit him, braked, and fired, and the sniper vanished backward, leaving an appalling spatter against the opposing wall.

Fire had stopped from Sabin's party; Banichi flattened himself against the wall and whipped around that corner, but the immediate relaxation told the tale, and Bren didn't think he wanted to see the damage that had left its evidence on that other wall.

Banichi wasn't so fastidious. He squatted down, collected items from Jenrette's pockets, a sidearm, a pocket com and a handheld, on each of which he killed the power with a press of his thumb.

Those were worth later investigation.

Sabin arrived, her guard battered and b.l.o.o.d.y, herself with a b.l.o.o.d.y forearm and a ripped sleeve.

"Mr. Cameron?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Is that Mr. Jenrette?"

"Yes, ma'am." They didn't have time for question and answer. There was that s.h.i.+p moving in. "Dr. Kroger's out there trying to defuse whatever-it-is, we've got the station up there, we dislodged Braddock from Central and blew the Archive. Captain Graham's boarding civilians fast as he can. We took the alien hostage Braddock was holding, we're trying to get communication with him, and last I heard, his s.h.i.+p's moving in, but we're talking to it."

Several blinks. "Not half bad for a day's work."

He was numb. He had a dead man at his feet. And a captain who'd tried her best to take the station from inside, with the force she had. And not done a bad job of it, counting she'd ended up at the right place to secure the fuel, the high card she'd she'd known the station held. "Captain Graham will want you aboard soon as possible." known the station held. "Captain Graham will want you aboard soon as possible."

"Possible, once we get the fuel flowing." Sabin gave a glance aside as Banichi stood up; and up. "Hato," she said. Ragi, for good good. It applied to food and drink, not quite apt.