On a Pale Ship Read online

  Dorian gave Jimmy a hard stare until he finally looked at the floor. "My mistake, Doc. Apologies." He flicked the brim of his cowboy hat.

  "That was an interview?" Dorian asked, looking back to Tali.

  "Right. If you'll follow me into the kitchen, I'll introduce you to the rest of the team." Tali turned away from a nonplussed Dorian Anino.

  Jimmy nodded to Dorian and pushed off the door jamb to follow.

  Dorian's eyes grew wide at his simple acceptance. "What if he'd shot you?" she called, growing even more confused as Jimmy shook his head negatively. "What?"

  "Doesn't work that way, boss," he said.

  "Really?" she asked, petulantly. "Would you like to explain how it works?"

  "I was maybe a quarter of a second ahead of her." He walked down the hallway where Tali had disappeared. "I knew it was a pissing contest as soon as she grabbed my weapon."

  "Check out tall dark and cowboy."

  Jimmy looked around the room, assessing the assembled crew of three.

  The woman who'd spoken was the lowest threat, tall and ungainly. She had residual white donut powder on her chin and chest. "You got a hold of his weapon, Tali Whacker? Was it big?"

  The third was a man, medium height and thickly muscled, although not puffed like those who built their bodies for show.

  "Not now, Bit," Tali said. "James Bang, meet Benjamin Rheel and Berta Coffman."

  With quiet confidence, Rheel crossed the kitchen and extended his hand. "Call me Jammin."

  Jimmy nodded his head in acknowledgement.

  "Nice job on fuzzing your records," Bit Coffman said. "Almost no record of James Warden Bang after being employed by Perfor Systems almost eight years ago. Looks like a nasty incident in Morocco a couple of years later and another at Gusev on Mars after that. Declared dead three years ago. But that's just a cursory look. Oh, wow, that really Dorian Anino?"

  Bit Coffman stood from the chair where she'd sat hunched over a plate of donuts and dusted her shirt off, only succeeding in smearing the donut powder. Unfazed by her inability to clean it off, she walked over to Dorian and looked her up and down, as if inspecting a fine piece of art.

  "Bit, don't be rude," Tali said.

  Dorian, off balance for the second time that day, recovered and gave the woman her hand, proffering a tight smile.

  Unexpectedly, Bit gently grasped her hand and instead of shaking, brought it closer to her face for inspection. "Remarkable," she breathed out. "Truly amazing. You're beautiful."

  Dorian jerked her hand back and stepped away from Bit, but didn't take her eyes off the larger woman.

  "Bit, whatever's going through that big, gorgeous brain of yours, keep it to yourself," Tali said. "Ms. Anino is our employer and we'll show her the respect due any member of the team and that means privacy."

  "Aw, frak, don't look at me like that," Bit said. "You can't put a kid in the candy store and not expect her to drool a little."

  "This is the crew then?" Dorian asked, recovering her composure. "If I recall correctly, Mr. Rheel is one of two you ordinarily team with. Will Mr. Kelti be joining us?"

  "He will not," Tali said. "Jimmy, I assume you're comfortable with number two slot in a modified three-man infiltration."

  "Western or Arab?" Jimmy asked, drawing out the second syllable of A-rab with a twang.

  "Which ever you're comfortable with. My team regularly drills both."

  "I count four," Jimmy pushed. "Lil' Bit not running as part of the team?"

  "I've a strict, no-deadly-encounters rule I like to live by," Bit said. "Tell me, Slim, is it true you can shoot six coins thrown in the air at the same time?"

  "Man doesn't like to brag," he said.

  "You said we were on a tight time budget," Tali said, turning to Dorian. "We're wasting time."

  "Are you in?" Dorian asked.

  "I haven't seen the mission."

  "I can only give you loose parameters. Mission security is of utmost priority," Dorian said.

  "How about I cut to the chase? You want us to break into a high-security medical facility over Fariza," Bit said. "I assume to recover the body of Captain Lucien Gray."

  "Bit?" Tali asked.

  "My question is just how she jumped from the Tipperary star system all the way to Sol in less than thirty hours. There aren't many ships that could reach the Tipperary TransLoc gate to New Pradesh from Grünholz in that amount of time. Current record for transiting Earth to Curie stands at twenty-one days and that was in a ship the size of a missile with priority access to TransLoc gates. There's no record of the ship Little Deuce within a hundred thousand kilometers of any TransLoc gate within the last thirty years, much less the last thirty hours. In total, you've traveled from Tipperary to Earth and then to Mars in ten days."

  "Ms. Anino?" Tali prodded.

  Dorian smiled tightly. "We all have secrets we'd like to keep. Wouldn't you agree, Sonny Crockett?"

  "Shite," Bit cussed under her breath. "Don't say that name out loud."

  "Sonny?" Tali asked.

  "My ultra-secret hacker name that apparently I'm going to have to change," Bit said.

  "One of," Dorian said confidently. "Would you like me to continue, or do we have an agreement to keep what we know to ourselves?" She looked straight at Bit, whose face was covered with bright red splotches, highlighting her short-cropped strawberry-blonde hair.

  "Please excuse my enthusiastic colleague, Ms. Anino. It seems pissing contests aren't restricted to those who can write their names in the snow," Tali said. "As I've said, all details of this mission will be kept in strictest confidence. Bit will ensure that all systems, including the storage in our smart clothing, earwigs and other personal devices, have been wiped at strategic points in the mission."

  "I would feel more comfortable discussing mission details once we're aboard Little Deuce," Dorian said. "Our enemy is not expecting us and I would prefer to keep it that way."

  "I provided a list of supplies and local suppliers to you upon initial contact," Tali said. "I was overly broad as I didn’t know the full extent of the mission. Under the circumstances, I was unable to identify any specialty items. It would be a mistake to leave Mars before a full plan has been formulated so that supplies could be purchased."

  "Your supplies are being procured as we speak," Dorian said. "I've taken the liberty of purchasing everything you've asked for in duplicate. My associate Victor expects to return in thirty-seven minutes."

  "Then we should get to planning," Tali said. "Bit. Jammin. Are you both still in? I won't think less of either of you if you back out, but you know the rules. Once we're into operational details, you're along for the ride until mission complete."

  "I'm a go," Jammin leaned down to pick up a long, soft-sided bag sitting at his feet. From the strain in his arms, Jimmy assessed both the weight of the items in the bag and the fact that Benjamin Rheel was a one-hundred percent natural, ex-special forces, operator — the latter information coming from the tattoo on his forearm.

  "I need to be back in a week. My students have finals and I hate missing the fun," Bit answered. "That going to be a problem?"

  "Timing is tight, but it should work," Dorian said.

  Bit nodded. "Okay, then."

  "Giddy-up," Jimmy said as Tali neglected to answer beyond picking up her own pack and slinging it over her shoulder. He strained to calculate the pack's weight, given the compression on the tips of her fingers and deflection of tread on her shoes.

  "Hey, Jimmy," Bit said, coming up behind him, lugging a steamer trunk that hovered a few centimeters above the kitchen floor. "Give a girl a hand? Tali doesn't like it when I knock over stuff in her house and these things are slippery."

  "Be my pleasure," he replied, leaning into a southern accent he'd adopted along with his silver tipped cowboy boots, cowboy hat, and leather holsters. "Seem like a sharp li’l thing like you could figure out how to get this trunk of yours to follow along."

  "Short notice," Bit said. "I don't get ou
t of the lab much."

  "You don't say," he said. "Well, you just stick with good ole Jimmy. I'll keep you safe and sound."

  "You think there's a decent replicator on that ship?" she asked. Before he could answer she pushed on. "Of course there is. That ship is a one-of-a-kind custom build from AAF. You know that stands for Anino Air Frames? Best I can find, the production cost on it was eighty million credits. Of course, those are Tipperary credits, which aren't as highly valued as Mars’. Even with the worst exchange, that's forty-five million credits. By the way, my safety is Tali Wacker's job. Don't call her that, though. I've seen her knock out a guy cold for saying less. She doesn't mind if I say it. We're buds and we take care of each other. Geez, I hope she didn't forget to bring Fizzy Pop. Although, I've been starting to drink Marfon Blue, which has less of the 'eines' than Fizzy Pop. Tali says I get too many stimulants, but I need 'em to keep up with her, if you know what I mean. Do you think she has a decent replicator?"

  Jimmy smiled to himself as he helped the trunk bump down the stairs. He'd heard a couple of questions in the conversation, but didn't think the gawky woman was really interested in answers. Slowing the floating steamer trunk to a stop, he reached into his pocket, pulled out three silver-coated coins and handed them to Bit.

  "Give those a good toss," he said. "Let's see how jumpy your crew is."

  "I don't think that's a good idea, Jimmy," Bit said. "Tali doesn't like surprises."

  "She didn't seem to mind earlier."

  Bit looked at him, confused. Understanding lit her face. "You mean when she took your gun and smacked you in the face?"

  Jimmy nodded, sporting an ironic smile.

  "You are a bad boy." Bit pointed ahead. "Looks like they're almost on the ship."

  Jimmy chuckled at Bit's poor attempt at distraction. Instead of following her finger, he tracked the three coins she’d covertly tossed with her other hand. They silently fanned out in the air above her head. The woman had inadvertently placed herself between him and one of the coins that had a low trajectory. It was a mistake he'd seen more than once by nervous tourists back in Texas. In one fluid move, Jimmy drew both weapons and jumped onto the steamer trunk, balancing himself as it slipped away. His first shot caught the errant coin on its bottom edge, flipping it up again just as it was about to fall below the level of the tall grass. With his second shot, he plugged through the center of the next lowest coin. Almost simultaneously, he fired with his opposite hand. Jimmy grinned with joy as the bullet passed through the same spot, nicking the edge of the hole he'd already made.

  In rapid succession, he fired three more times: once, catching the top edge of the first coin, and the other two shots at the last coin. Jimmy frowned; he was going for symmetry. He’d wanted to tag opposite edges of the first coin, but hadn’t accounted correctly for rotation. Both shots overlapped each other along the bottom edge. The third coin had a single hole through its center, but he’d almost missed the second shot. He grimaced at his sloppy shooting.

  Jimmy spun both weapons and slapped them back into their holsters. He dared a glance to where Anino, Lizst, and Rheel had stopped short of the ship. He nodded at them and flicked the tip of his finger into the brim of his hat.

  Lizst's hand had found its way to what he believed to be a weapon on her hip. Just how she managed to hide a weapon beneath the skin-tight leather pants was beyond him, but her action was proof of its existence. Jammin's respiration was elevated, but outwardly he was placid, other than the fact that he'd placed himself between the gunfire and Dorian Anino.

  "Dammit, James," Dorian said. "Will you all stop playing these damn macho games?"

  "Did you hit them?" Bit clapped her hands and looked up expectantly at Jimmy, who was still balanced atop the tilted steamer trunk.

  He waded through the grass and — impossibly — plucked the concealed coins from the tall grass where they’d fallen. "Let's take a look." When he returned, he placed the coins into Bit's outstretched hand.

  "You barely hit this one," she said, picking out the coin he'd tipped back into the air.

  "First shot was good, second shot was crappy," he said. "It stuck to the palm of your hand when you threw it, so I had to hit the bottom edge to get it to deflect up. I'm inclined to agree with you on the second shot, though. I was going for the other end. I must have lost count of revolutions. That's going to bug me."

  "You saw them spinning in the air?" Bit asked as he jumped down, righted the cart, and tugged it toward the ship.

  "Impossible to hit them otherwise. What if my bullet passed while the coin was flat to me?"

  "Odds of that aren't very good," she said, trying to get in front of him so she could look into his eyes. "You're saying you can track three coins, all on different trajectories?"

  "Six," he answered.

  "I suppose they really aren't on different trajectories," Bit said, disappointed that his steel blue-gray eyes gave no hint of cybernetic modification. "The whole thing isn't as random as you'd think. A person's arm is limited in movement. It really boils down to when they're released and how hard the person is throwing them."

  "I've more coins if you'd like to give it a try," he said.

  "Hah, no," Bit said. "It's plenty impressive. I'm just saying, the technology required to recreate the feat relies on fewer factors than the normal person would consider. It seems impossible if you think of it as three objects …"

  "Six," Jimmy corrected.

  "Right, six objects flying on completely random trajectories. You'd need to capture the release events, but gravity is a constant. Nice thinking, by the way; gravity out here is on .6g. Earth is 1g. Adjusting like that couldn't have been easy."

  Jimmy phased her out as he tugged her luggage toward Little Deuce. They quickly caught up with the others inside the ship.

  "Bunks are down this hallway," Dorian said, pointing down a passageway. "There's a crew galley at the end. You'll all have the run of the starboard hull. Port hull is off limits. I'd appreciate it if you'd keep to this side or on the bridge. There's a running track and workout facilities."

  "How about you fill us in on the details of the mission," Jimmy said.

  "If you'll leave your things here, we can adjourn to the bridge. Victor will be along shortly and stow them in your quarters," Dorian said. "I believe we'll find the holographic projectors to be quite useful."

  "Ooh," Bit said. "I bet they're completely frosty."

  Dorian walked purposefully from the group and with a light tap of the toe of her shoe she propelled herself through the zero-g space and up into the bridge. The rest followed, although Jimmy had to rescue Bit, who pushed too hard against the deck and caused the ship's AI to quickly adjust gravity to keep her from smashing into the ceiling.

  The chairs on the bridge, instead of facing forward as Jimmy had seen them last, sat along the outside edges and pointed inward. In the center, the image of an orbital station tethered to a planet below, sat as if it were protruding from the deck of the bridge. In that the deck had become part of the projection, it seemed to Jimmy that they floated in space as they looked across at the scaled-down station.

  "Berta was correct to assume we are headed to a high-security medical facility over Fariza," Dorian started, glancing at Bit. "Our mission is indeed a lab atop the Belsev Tether. There is a faction within the government of Fariza that has invested heavily in illegal human biological-enhancement research. About eighteen stans ago, their lead scientist, Doctor Zoya, initiated research on ways to use a gene loosely referred to as the 'hero' gene. There is a high correlation between the human body's capacity to accept exceptional modification and the presence of this gene. The only problem is, the natural occurrence of this gene is less than one in ten million."

  "So, if someone has this gene, they're a hero?" Bit asked.

  "Not necessarily, although people with this gene seem to be inclined toward military service. Without exceptional modification, they lead normal, often heroic lives."

  "Why do
I think she's not the first scientist to have discovered this gene?" Bit asked, sneaking a sidelong glance at Jimmy.

  "Not relevant to the mission," Dorian said. "What is relevant is that the rarity of this gene has made the people possessing it to be extraordinarily valuable. Valuable enough to kill."

  "Let me guess. Captain Gray has the hero gene and we're going to rescue him," Bit said.

  "I was unaware that you possessed the capacity to be succinct," Dorian said. "In addition to Lucien Gray, there are two other individuals who have recently been — in one way or another — killed and secreted away. It was only by immense sacrifice and quick thinking that we were able to finally uncover the existence of this lab over Fariza."

  "You said they're dead," Bit said. "I don't get it."

  "They're only mostly dead," Jimmy said, dryly, his devil-may-care mask cracking momentarily. "There's a big difference between mostly dead and all dead. Within that difference, is life."

  "Sounds like the voice of experience speaking," Tali said, her voice soft.

  "Buy me a glass of whiskey and I'll tell you all about it, doll."

  Chapter 13

  Deadly Secrets

  "You gotta move through the second door faster, Jammin," Jimmy said, breathing hard. He set Rocinante — his Wotton Enterprises custom tactical rifle — against the bulkhead at the end of the hallway. "You're cutting off my visibility to Zone-Three."

  "Don't think so," Jammin said. The only exterior sign of irritation was a slight tightening of his jaw. "That'd expose the team if there were more than four."

  Jimmy frowned. "The only thing you're exposing is your dangly bits. I assume you'd prefer to keep them intact for the ladies. Your target acquisition is too slow."

  "You wanna have a go?" Jammin asked, menace clear in his voice.

  Tali stepped toward the two men. "Hey. Let's dial it back a notch, Jimmy. Rules are, we bring criticism to the table after showers. Jammin don't let him under your skin; I need my rock on point."

  "Frakking cowboy," Jammin said.

  Tali suppressed a smile. Jammin was generally unflappable, but Jimmy was his perfect foil. The two men couldn’t be more different. Jammin was the model of disciplined precision and quiet confidence. Jimmy, on the other hand, was all talent, intuition and annoying swagger. The fact that Jimmy had gotten under his skin meant Jammin put credence in the cocky shooter's words. Her job, however, was not to manage egos beyond what would make the team more efficient. In small team combat speed was everything, as long as nothing got missed.