The Belt - Complete Series, page 30
Scott hesitated. “If we do that, then we run the risk of tipping them off. These guys are connected. If we call it in, then—bang, they’re gone.”
“We could still follow them if that happens,” said Cyrus.
“We could follow one shuttle, but it’s a lot harder to follow two. We also need to consider that Steph and the others might still be alive. In which case, we could be putting their lives in danger.”
They remained silent for a while, each considering the implications of any future actions, as the ship slowly adjusted its vector to take them behind the primary asteroid.
Scott abruptly stopped pacing. “Max, what does this ship identify itself as?”
“As the Perception, passenger transport of the VanHeilding Corporation.”
He looked over at Miranda. “If your hunch is correct, and the Seven were ultimately behind the attack, then maybe the crew on that station doesn’t view this ship as a threat.”
“And how does that help us?” said Cyrus.
Scott shrugged. “We might be able to get close without spooking them. Close enough to… maybe EVA and disable their shuttles.” He looked from Cyrus to Miranda. “There would be no way for them to escape. We could call it in then.”
“Risky. Very risky. What’s more, we’ve got no weapons and no way to stop them boarding us and taking control if we get found out. Like I said, we’re way out of our league on this one,” said Miranda.
“That’s not necessarily so,” said Max.
“What’s not?” said Miranda.
“Being unarmed. This ship has a weapons cache available for use in emergencies.”
They all paused for a second and exchanged conspiratorial glances. “A weapons cache? Where?” said Miranda.
The holo-table flashed up a schematic of the ship, and a marker pulsed over a sector deep within the cargo hold. “This is the location of the handheld weapons locker,” said the AI. Several more markers flashed up in each of the main state rooms. “There are also lighter weapons hidden in these locations.”
Scott, Miranda, and Cyrus looked from one to the other, and just when they had all assumed that this was the full complement of weapons, another marker pulsed on the bow of the ship. “This is the location of the external plasma cannon.”
“Ho-ly shit. This ship is badass,” said Cyrus.
“All these weapons on a civilian passenger transport. This is highly irregular,” said Miranda.
“Indeed. However, their location can only be revealed by me in an emergency—such as this.”
Cyrus sat down and shook his head. “This is getting heavy. Are we seriously considering using these?”
“It’s just an option, Cyrus,” said Scott. “Got any other ideas?”
Cyrus just shook his head.
“Miranda, how about you?”
She had a concerned look on her face. “You know me: I’m all for direct action. But I need to process all this. I don’t like the odds, even with all these weapons.”
Scott didn’t push it; he decided to let her mull on it for a while. “Max, how long before we’re in the lee of SN-Alpha?”
“Fifteen minutes, sir.”
“Then I suggest we park ourselves there for a while so we can discuss our options.” He looked from Miranda to Cyrus. “Agreed?”
Cyrus nodded.
“Yeah, it will give us time to think. Agreed,” said Miranda.
Scott sat down with a sigh.
“Commander.”
“Yes, Max, what is it?”
“The station is hailing us.”
“Shit, what?” Scott was back up on his feet again.
“Just ignore it,” said Cyrus.
“Wait. Max, what are they saying?” Miranda had moved to the edge of her seat.
“Relaying,” said the AI, and with that a crackly message broadcast around the room.
“This is Dain Tiber. If that’s you in that fancy ship, Renton, then you’d better be bringing us our money. We’re getting pretty pissed off waiting around for you to get your goddamn act together.”
For a moment, there was only silence in the library.
“Who the hell is Renton?” said Cyrus.
17
DECEPTION
According to Max, Renton was a high-ranking lackey in the VanHeilding Corporation. So, it was understandable that the crew on the space station might think he was on board the Perception. This also went a long way to implicate the Seven in the attack on the Hermes, and to underscore Miranda’s own suspicions. But they soon realized that this was all academic. They had been spotted, and worse, they needed to reply to the message—and soon. The longer they waited, the more suspicious it would look.
Miranda being Miranda was anxious to get armed to the teeth. She was not going down without a fight, and now her suspicions about her father’s involvement—no matter how indirect—were strong enough to push her into a single-minded quest to exact revenge for what they did to the Hermes. The Perception had enough firepower to blow the space station into an alternate dimension, and Scott sensed that Miranda was itching to pull the trigger on something that reckless. Such was her anger.
“I say we use the plasma cannon and take out the entire docking port and destroy their shuttles.”
“That’s a very risky option, Miranda. We could compromise the integrity of the station if we blow the dock. Everyone on the station could die, including Steph.”
“But we don’t know if they’re on the station. They could be somewhere else, or even dead already,” said Cyrus.
“I know, but can we really take that risk?” Scott could see that Miranda was conflicted; her need to take action was battling with her rationality. “Let’s all just calm down a moment and think. There has to be a better way.”
Miranda gave an exasperated sigh. “Those bastards aren’t getting away with this. Not on my watch.”
“Look, we’ve got some breathing space. At the moment, they think we’re transporting this Renton guy on his way to deliver something to them, so let’s work with that.”
“Yeah, but we’re not. Are we?” said Cyrus.
“But this is a VanHeilding vessel.” Scott looked over at Miranda. “And they’re buying that for now.”
Scott moved over to the holo-table. “Max, show us the space station along with our current position.” The table blossomed to life, and they could see a detailed rendering of both the craft and the asteroid system. Scott pointed at the station. “If our objective is to disable their shuttles so they can’t escape before backup arrives, and if using the plasma cannon will risk destroying the entire station, then we need to get closer. Considering they think we’re on their side, then we just keep going until we rendezvous. Then we can take our shuttle and get ourselves up close and personal with them. Once we’re close enough, we can EVA and disable their shuttles.”
“That’s crazy,” said Cyrus.
“We’ll never be able to get that close without being discovered. They’ll smell a rat long before we can even get our shuttle launched.”
Scott looked over at Miranda. “That’s where you come in.”
“Me?”
“They think Renton is bringing them something. Let’s say we pretend it’s not Renton, but you instead.”
Miranda screwed her face up like she had just tasted something bitter. “You’re kidding me.”
“Hear me out. They know that Fredrick VanHeilding is the boss man in that corporation, and you’re… eh, kind of related. So, you could say that you’re bringing this thing to them instead of Renton.”
“They’ll never buy that,” said Cyrus.
Miranda was shaking her head. “I don’t know, Scott. I see what you’re getting at, but would they believe me? After all, I was the flight officer on the Hermes.”
“Yes, but you left before it embarked on the mission to Jezero City. You could play the family card, pretend you’re working for the clan now.”
“Do you have any frigging idea how much I hate that idea, Scott?”
Scott shrugged. “Okay, so maybe they’ll be a bit surprised, even suspicious. But it could get us close enough to get the job done.”
Miranda went silent for a moment as she considered this crazy plan. “I’d still prefer to blast them with the plasma cannon. I’m not good with subterfuge.”
“Commander,” said Max, “they are hailing us again. What would you like me to do?”
Miranda looked from Scott to Cyrus and back again. “Screw it, Max. Let’s hear it.”
With that, a crackly voice broke over the PA. “This is Tiber again. Don’t go all coy on me, Renton. And don’t make me come over there to you. Tell me something I want to hear. Time is running out.”
“Max, open a comm channel. Not video, just audio,” said Miranda.
“Comm channel now open.”
Miranda took a deep breath. “This is Miranda Lee, and I’m handling the transaction. We have what you want, so let’s do this.” She looked over at the others. Scott gave her the thumbs up.
“Lee, who the hell are you? Renton was supposed to be doing this deal.”
“Well he’s busy doing more important shit. So, do you want to do this or not?”
The comms went silent for a moment, and Scott began to feel that maybe his plan had failed, that they had been spooked. Something wasn’t right.
“Lee, you were the flight officer on the Hermes. Why the hell should we trust you?”
Shit, thought Scott. They weren’t buying it.
“Yeah, that’s me. But you’ll find that I’m also part of the VanHeilding family. All that money’s very tempting. Beats bouncing around space in a rickety old tin can for a living. Who do you think put all this together? Who was the person on the inside? Start using your tiny brain, and let’s get this done.” Miranda was getting into her stride. “And while we’re at it, how do I know you have what we want?”
There was another long silence before a reply came. “You’re some piece of work, Lee, selling out your friends like that. Hope it’s worth it.”
“You’re beginning to bore me now. So, what’s it going to be?” Miranda gave a nod to the others. Tiber was buying her story.
“We’ll send you a real-time feed of the merchandise. Your AI can confirm it. Okay?”
“Not okay.”
Scott opened his hands in a gesture of shock. What the hell is she playing at?
“I need to eyeball the merchandise. Only then, when I’m satisfied, do we do the deal. Okay?”
Scott could barely contain himself. She was playing hardball when it wasn’t necessary. He began pacing.
“Like I said, you’re a piece of work. Okay, we’ll rendezvous. You come over here on your own. No party tricks, got it?”
“Whatever,” said Miranda as she signaled to the AI to close comms.
“Woah, that was intense.” Cyrus flopped onto a sofa.
Scott punched the air. “I knew you could do it, Miranda. You have them running scared.”
“It’s not over yet. We don’t even know how much we’re supposed to be giving them in return.”
The Perception again adjusted its vector and made for the rendezvous point. It would take them less than thirty minutes to get there, so they didn’t have much time to finesse their plan. Scott’s plan. In his mind, the hard preparatory work had been done by virtue of Miranda’s hitherto undiscovered acting skills. But more would now be asked of her.
Once the ship reached its destination, they would take the shuttle and head for the station. However, just before docking, Scott and Cyrus would exit the craft into open space and EVA to the docking port, where the two shuttles were attached. Scott would take one and Cyrus the other, and between them they would disable the craft. Cyrus had already laid out how this was to be done with the minimum amount of time and energy.
Miranda, on the other hand, would continue on to dock with the station. This would be the real test of her skills. She would enter the station and confirm that the hostages from the Hermes were all okay, then return to her shuttle, pick up Scott and Cyrus, and head back to the Perception. With the shuttles out of action, they could broadcast their location to the authorities and wait for backup to arrive, knowing that the mercenaries couldn’t escape. That was the plan. Now they would get to test it against reality.
As Scott donned his EVA suit, he wondered if maybe Miranda’s original plan to use the plasma cannon might not have been a better idea. Too late now, he thought. We’re committed. He glanced over at Miranda. She had a steely composure, and a resoluteness to her movements. She had certainty. He wondered if it was her military training that gave her such composure under pressure, or if she was just made of something greater than the average human. She too had put on an EVA suit, not that she planned to use it for its intended purpose. She put it on because it would be better for concealing weapons, of which she had two that Scott knew about. But she may well have had others.
He snapped on his helmet, leaving the visor open, and sat down in the back of the luxury shuttle. Cyrus came over and handed him a small case of tools, which Scott placed in the front pouch of his EVA suit.
“Now remember, you just need to disconnect the flow controller on the port side of the main engine bay. You don’t need to take it out completely.”
“Yeah, got it.”
“Ready?” Miranda called out from the cockpit.
“Ready as we’ll ever be.” Scott felt the shuttle disconnect from the mothership with a barely perceptible thump as the locking bolts retracted. Miranda touched the controls, and the craft moved slowly away. On the monitors, he could see the outline of the station. They weren’t far away; a few minutes and they would be there.
He tapped a control on the arm of his seat to zoom in on the image of the station. It was gray and industrial, built for function with little or no consideration paid to the aesthetic. It was a far cry from the luxury of the craft that Miranda now commanded.
The station had a large torus, providing at least a half-gee for the occupants. There were no engines, as such, just minor thrusters to keep it in position so it wouldn’t get dragged into a collision course with one of the nearby asteroids. At the bow of its central backbone was a cross-shaped docking port with room for four shuttles, one on each spoke.
This entire facility would originally have been a hotel of sorts for the miners and crew working on the local asteroids. Since these were relatively small rocks, the gravity would be very weak, so workers would commute down to the mines and return to the station at the end of their shifts. The artificial gravity provided on the station would help mitigate against the debilitating effects of prolonged low-gravity work on the human body.
But like all mining activity over the centuries, there comes a point when the resources are exhausted or simply no longer economically viable to extract, and this was probably the case here. Whatever it was they were mining had become unprofitable, so the facility was mothballed and left as is until such a time when the economics changed. Then it would be reactivated and put back into business. Yet, the longer this type of mining infrastructure was left idle, the less likely it was to ever be used again, and so they became the hideouts—and, in many cases, homes—of smugglers, mercenaries, and disenfranchised scratchers that populated most of this sector of the solar system.
A voice broke through the shuttle PA. “We have you on track to dock at port 4. Don’t use number 3—it’s derelict. You’ll probably die if you try to use it.”
“Copy that,” Miranda replied. She turned around to Scott and Cyrus. “Okay guys, we’re nearly there. Better get ready.”
“Good luck. Sorry you have to be the one to enter the hornets’ nest,” said Scott as he made his way to the airlock.
“Yeah, don’t worry—it’ll be fine. I’ll see you back here soon.”
Scott closed his visor and entered the airlock, squeezing in beside Cyrus. He gave him a thumbs up, and tried to smile.
18
DAIN TIBER
Miranda brought the craft along the side of the station’s backbone. It was a tricky maneuver, but she wanted to make sure Scott and Cyrus could exit undetected. They had reckoned that this area wouldn’t be monitored in the same way as the docking port.
The shuttle’s console alerted her to the airlock operation, and a moment later she saw both of them on her monitor, working their way along the outer hull of the station. She nudged the shuttle’s controls, taking the craft away from the side of the station, and headed for the dock.
“What are you doing?”
A sharp voice broke out of the PA, and she froze. Oh shit. Have they seen Scott and Cyrus? She tried to remain calm.
“You want to be careful coming in that way. You don’t want to scratch that fancy shuttle of yours.”
“Yeah, or I might have to sue you for the damages.” Miranda let out a long, slow sigh. So far, so good, she thought.
The shuttle came around the bow of the station and Miranda could now get a good view of the docking ports. Two were occupied with some pretty banged-up shuttles. She reckoned that Scott and Cyrus shouldn’t have much trouble disabling them, as it didn’t look like they could function in their current state. A third port had a long gash in the access tunnel, exposing the inside to the vacuum of space. Something must have collided with it sometime in the past.
The fourth looked serviceable, but she wasn’t going to take any chances, so she flipped down the visor on her EVA suit. If something should go wrong and her shuttle lost atmosphere, she would still be okay—theoretically.
Inch by delicate inch, she oriented the shuttle to marry up with the docking port. Her console flashed an alert to let her know that the onboard automated docking systems had taken over; it would take the craft in for that last few meters. A thump reverberated through the hull as the port aligned and the locking bolts fired. She put the craft into hibernation, rose from the cockpit seat, and made her way to the airlock. “Time to get the game face on,” she said to herself.
