Vincent Valless turned to Michael. “I’m sorry, Your Highness, but I cannot permit you to make contact with the kidnappers’ vessel. It would be too dangerous. However, if you will agree to go back to Ogapoge without protest, then I will join Banshee’s crew and provide some protection.”
Michael wanted to scream, to protest: “It’s my job to protect her!” But he knew he didn’t have that choice. He tried to keep his voice level as he replied.
“Very well, Vincent. I’d like someone else to go with them, as well.”
“I have already arranged for that,” Vincent said, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. “Todd Liatt and another member of your security force will be joining us momentarily. That will provide firepower and back-up piloting, should they be needed.”
Michael nodded. “Thank you for your foresight and initiative, Vincent.”
He tried to make his words gracious, but he knew his tone failed to keep up the illusion. Fine. He would accept his exile, but there was nothing in the rules of etiquette that said he had to be happy about it.
Michael turned to Judith and forced a smile. “At least those of us on Ogapoge can trail you and provide pressure to cooperate if that becomes necessary. Even if they spotted us on the way out from Manticore, they’ve ony got civilian instruments. They won’t be able to identify us without our transponder code, and I can disable that once we’re out of the press of near-planet traffic.”
Vincent Valless coughed softly. “We can even do one better, sir. Ships carrying members of the royal family have some flexibility in regard to supplying precisely accurate identification.”
“Brilliant!” Michael said. “We’ll do that then. Reset the transponder to show us as an ore freighter or a tourist barge, whichever is more appropriate for the area.”
At that moment, Todd and the female security officer came around the corner into Banshee’s berth. Michael knew without being told that another of the operatives waited in the corridor to escort him back to Ogapoge.
Behind him, Michael could hear Alice making contact with Cormorant. She’d refused visual contact, and was telling whoever had answered the call she had added supplies they were to take with them. Something in how she inflected her words implied a reward or bonus. Michael was impressed.
Todd and his companion needed no additional instructions. Further chat would only slow their mission. Since neither Banshee nor Ogapoge was hyper-capable, it was crucial that they intercept Cormorant before she met Kwahe’e.
As Todd passed Michael, he reached out and clasped his friend firmly on one shoulder. “Don’t worry, roomie. I’ll look out for her.”
His words were almost inaudible. Michael was grateful. He knew Todd meant what he said, and he knew, too, that Todd was admitting what Michael himself had hardly dared acknowledge.
He loved Judith Newland. If anything happened to her, the universe would go dark and all the suns at the interstellar core could not shed enough light to brighten it once more.
* * *
Judith watched Michael leave Cormorant, eagerness to find Ruth warring with a sinking sensation in her breast. Resolutely she turned away and strapped herself into one of the front row of passenger seats.
At Alice’s suggestion, Todd was taking over as pilot.
“I want to keep an eye on Cormorant’s movements. I also want to scan for Kwahe’e. Hopefully, she’s well out-system, but we can’t count on that.”
“Good,” Todd said. “You’re captain. Sing out if you need me to alter course.”
Judith had lived on Manticore for over two years now, but the easy manner in which Manticoran men worked not only with, but also for women still could astonish her. Grayson men treated their women far better than Masadans did, but even so women were considered very much the “weaker sex.”
Men should try childbirth, Judith thought with a momentary return of the hatred that had driven her to flee Masada. They should try menstrual periods. They should try chasing around day and night after squalling little children, coping with a thousand crises in a single day, solving everything from medical emergencies to diplomatic breakdowns. Let them try that for a solid week, then see if they still call women weak!
But Judith couldn’t maintain her wrath. Todd wasn’t condescending to Alice, not even with the excuse that he was a Navy officer and she a civilian. He recognized that here Alice had the expertise, and so she should be in command. Vincent Valless had introduced Galina Caruso, his female counterpart, without the least hint that she was anything but another security officer.
Get out of your own head, Judith thought, and face what’s going on. She leaned forward to better attend to the minor drama playing out between Alice and Cormorant.
Cormorant had acknowledged Alice’s com message—not without a certain degree of suspicion. The kidnappers had seemed particularly suspicious because she was aboard the very ship they had just abandoned, but she had managed to put exactly the right note of exasperation into her own voice as she agreed that their joint employers were idiots. She had been remarkably convincing, and they had finally accepted that the “additional cargo” represented some afterthought—one that would benefit the kidnappers as much or more than anyone else.
Although the kidnappers were obviously unhappy, greed had tilted the balance. They had reduced acceleration almost to zero to allow her to catch up, and Banshee and the disguised Ogapoge overtook Cormorant rapidly.
Judith was trying to relax in her seat when Galina moved forward and took the seat next to her.
“You’re determined to board Cormorant with Ms. Ramsbottom?”
“Yes.”
The single word held heat and fire, and Galina nodded. If she’d ever been inclined to argue the wisdom of Judith’s decision, she gave it up now as clearly useless.
“Is it likely the kidnappers have seen you before?”
Judith blinked, a cascade of unwelcome thoughts flooding through her mind.
“Yes. One of them diverted me while the other took Ruth.” Judith’s voice broke, and she steadied herself. “But I’m still going in. It’s likely Ruth is still unconscious, but if she isn’t, she’s going to be afraid. She’s going to need me.”
“I understand.”
Galina’s tone of voice said that what she understood was that Judith needed to see Ruth—alive and well—as soon as possible.
“Sometimes,” Galina said, “a security officer can serve best by not looking like a security officer.”
“Sometimes,” Vincent Valless cut in with a wicked grin that made Judith think this tactical point had been a point of contention between them before, “it’s best if the guard dog shows his fangs. However, this time you’re right, Galina. We should take off our tunics. Without the rank and department badges, we can pass for shiphands.”
Galina Caruso nodded. “Good.”
She returned her attention to Judith. “I’ve had some training in disguise. If you’d permit me, I may be able to buy you a few necessary minutes.”
“My luggage is in the carry bay in the back,” Alice said from her post at the control console. “Help yourself. Judith and I are not exactly the same size, but there’s make-up and stuff you might find useful.”
Judith’s initial response was to protest, to remind them that the whole point of her boarding was to be able to reassure Ruth. How could she do so if she didn’t look like herself?
But her protest died unspoken. Galina was right. All it would take was one of the kidnappers recognizing her, and everything would go to hell.
While Todd brought Banshee closer and closer to Cormorant, Judith let Galina work on her. Her hair was restyled into a tight braid coiled at the back of her neck. From Alice’s personal luggage a change of clothes was selected, including a tinted hairnet that did much to dampen the distinctive auburn highlights of Judith’s hair into a muddy brown.
“I could make your face up so your own mother wouldn’t know you,” Galina said, fussing with the collar of the understatedly s
tylish jacket Judith now wore in place of the work shirt she’d been wearing, “but that’s hardly worthwhile since I can’t do anything about your eyes. The color is so unusual. If we were in a port, contact lenses would be an easy fix, but we can’t get them out here. You’re just going to have to keep your gaze lowered.”
That will be easy enough, Judith thought. Neither Grayson nor Masadan men like their women to be saucy. Meeting a strange man’s gaze was distinctly saucy—and so something she still found hard to do.
“Why don’t we both wear masks?” Alice suggested. “We don’t have any of the fancy nano disguise gear aboard, but a cloth over the face should be enough. Given the care that has gone into protecting the identity of the principle in this case, I think bare faces would be more suspicious than covered. I have some scarves in my luggage that should do.”
“I’ve seen them,” Galina said, pulling one out and experimenting with how to best twist it into a concealing mask.
Alice continued, “I’ve been trying to think how to justify two of us coming aboard. A bodyguard would be a direct challenge. I think we’re both going to need to carry something aboard. There are some crates in the back, but they’re not very large. If they ask about the contents, we’ll have to come up with something believable that’s also small enough to fit into a crate that size.”
“We could be bringing personal weapons,” Judith cut in. “Or high tech trinkets. For all they claim to hate technology, there is a faction on Masada that craves higher tech weaponry and ships. Ephraim Templeton—with whom Kwahe’e will be rendezvousing—is among those. If you can imply that they are to bring a present of such in addition to the child…”
Judith’s voice broke, and she couldn’t say anything further, but Alice was nodding. “That should work. I’ll carry one box. You carry another, larger one. The size will give you an excuse to focus on the box, rather than any people aboard. I won’t say exactly what the boxes contain, just hint at valuable presents. Greed should do the rest.”
“Sounds good,” Valless said. “Or at least workable.”
“We’ve been granted permission to dock Banshee to Cormorant,” Todd said. “Everybody take their places.”
They did. The two ships mated air locks and Alice Ramsbottom, her attractive face and thick honey-colored hair now concealed beneath a mask made from an artfully twisted dark blue scarf, handed Judith a large box.
“Act as if it’s heavier than it is,” she reminded, taking up her own burden. “And stay behind me.”
Judith nodded. Her heart was pounding, but she couldn’t tell whether from anticipation or fear. The box Alice had handed her was heavy enough to remind Judith to act as if it was a real burden, but not overly inconvenient—especially for a young mother who regularly slung her growing child up over her hip and carried her about.
Just on the other side of that hatch, Judith thought. Just on the other side of that hatch. Ruth is there. Ruth…
Judith stepped forward almost treading on Alice’s heels in her eagerness. Pryderi-class ships, to which the Cormorant and Banshee belonged, were not overly large. Unless the kidnappers still had her in a crate, in just a few steps, Judith was going to see her little girl, see her alive, hold her.
Voices from ahead of her forced Judith to concentrate on something other than her thudding heartbeat.
“Just hand the boxes here,” commanded a man’s voice. “We’ll take over.”
“Oh, no,” Alice said, a breezy laugh underlying her words. Judith admired her poise. “Not so easy, buster. I’ve orders to have these signed for—and I was told to direct your attention to the seals. They’re sequential. The code for opening this box,” she hefted the one in her arms, “will be released to you when the other one is delivered along with your other parcel. Until you agree, well, I can walk backwards as easily as not.”
Alice took a step back, and Judith had to scuttle to get out of her way.
There was a long pause, then the male voice spoke, “Right. Fine. This has been a bizarre job all along. Why shouldn’t it keep being weird?”
Alice strode forward. Judith followed closely, keeping her eyes downcast as if concerned about her footing. Behind her, she could sense another presence, Valless, she guessed, making sure his charges didn’t go beyond where he could help.
Alice entered Cormorant. Judith followed close behind her and couldn’t resist a glance to see if Ruth was on any of the passenger seats.
Her timing couldn’t have been worse. The woman she knew as Dulcis McKinley was standing mid-way down the aisle between the rows of seats watching as Alice set her box down on one of the seats in the front row. McKinley had glanced casually over at Judith and their eyes met.
For a moment, Judith thought that it wouldn’t matter, but McKinley was good at her chosen profession for a reason. She’d stood in an apartment hallway, holding Judith’s attention while her partner snatched Ruth. She wasn’t likely to forget those distinctive green eyes with their contrasting ring of brown—especially as the mask that hid the rest of Judith’s face accented those incredible eyes.
“You!” Dulcis McKinley said, half-gasp, half-scream. “Ward! It’s a trap!”
Her hand dropped to her waist, possibly reaching for a holstered weapon.
Judith didn’t pause. Gone was her anxious anticipation. Gone was any fear or indecision. Returned was the fierce decisiveness that had let a child of ten believe that she could steal a spaceship and escape to the stars.
Raising the box she carried in her arms, Judith threw it across the intervening rows of seats, catching McKinley firmly in the chest.
McKinley stumbled, catching herself against the nearest seat. Judith sprang onto the seat nearest to her and flung herself over, leaping with the agile accuracy of desperation.
Behind her, she was aware of the man Alice had been speaking to giving a sharp cry of pain.
Vincent Valless’s voice was saying something, but Judith didn’t hear any of the details. She had her hands on Dulcis McKinley’s throat and despite the difference in their sizes was shaking the other woman so hard the woman’s elegant head was snapped back and forth on her long neck.
“Where is she! Where is Ruth?”
* * *
Michael Winton supposed that he should be glad that maneuvering a little ship like Ogapoge, a vessel of a sub-class he hadn’t flown for quite a while, demanded a fair amount of his attention.
One of the two remaining security officers had moved up into the co-pilot’s seat and was now scanning the surrounding area.
“Sir, we have a bogie.” The man recited coordinates. “Matches the description Alice Ramsbottom gave us of Kwahe’e. It’s closing on where Banshee and Cormorant are docked.”
Michael had had Ogapoge’s weapons systems at ready, but he had dearly hoped to avoid using them.
“Have they spotted us?”
“We were scanned, but I believe our transpoder code was sufficient.” The corner of the security officer’s mouth twitched in an almost grin. “I believe they were distracted to see the ship with which they expected to make a clandestine rendezvous docked with another.”
“We’ll keep an eye on Kwahe’e,” Michael said, changing his heading slightly in case interception became necessary, “but we’re not going to do anything. Kwahe’e’s playing it safe. Let’s not force her to change her mind.”
“Aye-aye, sir.”
Michael’s hands flowed over the controls, his brain composing various messages. He couldn’t query Banshee lest the call be overheard. Little passenger ships like this didn’t always have the tightest communications systems, and this wasn’t the time to take a risk.
He’d just have to wait and watch. Wait and hope. Wait and dread.
* * *
“Ruth is in the back!” Dulcis McKinley almost screamed the words. “She’s in one of the crates. She’s fine. The crate is set up like a little bed. I was checking on her just a moment ago. She’s still sleeping.”
Vincent
Valless came toward them, his bulk crowding the aisle. “I’ll take custody of this lady,” he said to Judith, “if you want to check out her story.”
Judith nodded. Galina Caruso had joined Alice in the front of the cabin, and the male kidnapper was sitting down. Judging from his artificially stiff posture, Galina must have had immobilizing restraints.
Interesting, Judith thought, what she carries around as part of her routine gear.
But the thought was just cover, empty speculation to keep her from thinking about that crate in the cargo bay at the back of the ship. There was only one large enough to carry Ruth, and it wasn’t overly large, but then a sleeping child didn’t take up that much room.
She was at the crate, checking the latches, forcing them up, feeling the lid slide up and back.
And there was Ruth, still disguised as a dark-haired little boy. She lay asleep, curled on her side, her thumb tucked in her mouth, an unfamiliar toy—a little woolly lamb—cuddled into the middle of her body.
She was breathing, and as Judith touched her, she stirred. Her sleepy sigh was the sweetest sound Judith had ever heard.
“She’s here. She’s all right. She may be coming around.”
McKinley no longer fighting, philosophically resigned to the changed situation, nodded confirmation.
“She should be. We gave her a mild sedative, just enough to be able to move her without her fussing. Even that should be wearing off within an hour. We had no desire to harm her—or even to make her uncomfortable.”
“Lucky for you,” Judith said, gathering the sleeping child to her and standing as easily as if Ruth weighed nothing at all. “So very, very lucky for you.”
* * *
Kwahe’e had peeled back into the dark anonymity of the outer system when Cormorant and Banshee had undocked and both had turned their courses to the inner system. Perhaps by then they had noticed Ogapoge hanging watchful in the fringes; certainly her captain, skilled in skulduggery as he apparently was, had known when absence was the better part of valor.
The three ships had flown in company back to Aslan Station. There Cormorant and Banshee had been tucked into their reserved berths. Ogapoge alone made the trip back to Manticore, carrying with them what Michael Winton was inclined to view as a very precious cargo.