Authors: Deborah Christian
Tags: #Science Fiction, #Fiction, #General, #Assassins, #Women murderers
She floated, gasping, giving her racing heart a chance to come under control. Kastlin waited for her to regain her air. When she finally did, she gave the Fixer a squeeze of the shoulder in silent thank-you, then looked around for Reva.
Like a guided missile, Yavobo reoriented himself, then moved unerringly toward Lish at the airlock. Reva was in a position to intercept him, and she did so, ignoring the screaming voice of fear in the back of her head.
Almost dead, he had you almost dead.
She didn't dare try moving through the Lines right then, though maybe there was a way to distract him, like she'd done in the warehouse that time they had tangled before. Taunts would get to him, she knew, and outright challenges. She flicked on her voder and called to the bounty hunter.
"Afraid to fight with your hands, Yavobo? Need a speargun to take out a helpless woman?"
The warrior hesitated, faced toward Reva, slowed to a nearstop in the water. Her tactics seemed to be working.
"What about me?" she continued. "You said it would be you and me again. No one else. So here we are."
Sea Father, it was bravado enough, and it made her sick to her stomach to voice the words. She didn't want an "again" with the warrior. All she wanted was time, time to get Lish away from here.
Yavobo studied her, speargun angled away. He glanced to the airlock and Reva followed suit, seeing tangled bodies and Lish without a breather inside the nearly closed lock. He looked beyond Reva's shoulder, where law enforcement was rallying now] that borgbeasts had fled the plaza in fright. Some were looking their way, soon would be moving their way.
The alien's lip curled. "It seems this is not the time, soulstealer, not for your friend, and not for you. I will see you again, when we can have more time together."
Soul-stealer? Reva blinked. What is that supposed to mean?
Yavobo swam back behind the barnacle ferns to the lava ridge, and was gone from sight. Baffled, the assassin stared after him. Why was he so ready to break off? If I didn't know better, I'd say something spooked him.
With that she turned to look around, see what was worth spooking an Aztrakhani warrior. Saw the aftermath of chaos from the borgbeast attack and stopped, staggered, wondering when and how that had happened that she had not noticed it. Her friends joined her shortly, and Vask shared her shock at the broken bodies and blood-haze that filled the plaza.
"Borgbeasts," Lish explained. "I saw them right before Edesz grabbed me."
Reva tore her eyes away and looked to the airlock, where
one
glance revealed the terrorist's fate. She flicked her voder off and
spoke again on Com 2.
"Let's go." She jabbed her chin toward the plaza, where law enforcers were separating themselves from the terrorists, Skiffjammers, and general destruction. In minutes, if that long, they would sort themselves out enough to notice and pursue the Holdout. "We need to get out of sight while we can."
She led the way beneath ferns on the ridge. Peering through screening black frond, Reva saw they were not yet followed. "You got any 'Jammers left to help us, Lish?"
The smuggler shot her an indecipherable look before querying Com 2. There were no answers. Then a call on Com 1 turned up scattered responses. Some 'Jammers had fled when the borgbeasts attacked, and retreated to the floatweed pond attraction, on the other side of the ridge.
Lish shook her head. "Call it survival cowardice," she remarked in a tone of disgust, then got back on the line with the remaining 'Jammers. "We'll meet you at the ponds momentarily.'' she told them. "Then we're out of here."
"Mold on," Reva said on the privacy channel. "How're we going to meet at the ponds? If you want to get out of here, I know a route through the—"
"Vent that," the Holdout cut her off rudely. "You know the plan. Let's stick with it. Over the ridge here, into new clothes and out. Leave the second thoughts for later."
Vask stared at Lish oddly, and Reva's stomach did a slow roll as she heard the woman's words. Oh, no. I think I've been here before.
She probed carefully. "The ridgetop has a flex filter," she said slowly, "so attraction jumpers aren't tempted to take a shortcut over the hill."
Lish snorted. "Had. That's cut."
"When?" asked Vask, seeming puzzled. Lish scowled. "What's wrong with you two? This isn't the time to rehash infiltration plans. Let's get moving." She led the way up the ridge face. Vask looked at Reva, shrugged, and followed the smuggler kicking upward past lace fern and grasping frond. The assassin brought up the rear, her limbs leaden with dread anticipation.
Lish was correct. The flex filter had been cut at the top of the ridge. They slipped through the gap and down the other side far from Park Security's checkpoint, where visitors were being turned away from the tunnel to the fire geyser attraction. The trio met up with Skiffjammers by a water-breather snack bar where aliens like large sea-slugs dined on fresh rock limpets.
From there they detoured quickly inside a kiosk of package lockers to retrieve new bodysuits, and used wet-freshers to change in. Reva was conscious of the wound in her arm that still leaked blood, though it had not yet been noticed by tourists or Park Security as she moved amid a pack of Skiffjammers. She snagged a length of damp-patch, intended for bodysuit repair, but usable in a pinch as a crude bandage for her slashed forearm. She stripped out of one garment, smoothed the binding tape over the wound, and regarded the repair job. She could ignore the ache; the wrap should hold her until they got out of the Park and she could safely get proper treatment. Then Reva donned the new clothing, struggling with the seals in the bodysuit and the water weightlessness that made it hard to dress. It was awkward, and it was an escape contingency Reva had no recollection of planning. "If we're taking time for this, why not go inside the airdomes?" she asked querulously on the com link. "It's easier."
"We're more mobile out here if we're sighted," came the reply, "and 'Jammers can screen us better. Lords of Ice, Reva, stick with the plan, will you?"
When they reassembled in the water their clothes were different, Reva in a white and gray bodysuit, Vask in bronze, Lish in red with headcowl snugged close to conceal her hair. The assassin bit back her questions. There would be time enough for that when they were clear of Rinoco Park.
The Holdout wanted them to split up and travel with separate groups of 'Jammers. When Reva protested, the smuggler rounded on her on Com 1, where every Skiffjammer could hear.
"I've had enough of your contrariness," Lish said harshly. you're on my team, you're on my team, and you take my orders. If you're not on my team, you can clear out. Now which is it?"
Reva's lips compressed to a thin line. Vask's gaze flickered from one to the other. This was not a normal confrontation, though what motivated the undercurrent of hostility evaded him.
"How about we have this out after we're clear of the Park?" the assassin said with forced neutrality.
"How about we get things clear right here?" Lish came back "You do it my way, or you're gone. Is that understood?"
The assassin's eyes narrowed. "I'll talk to you about thislater," she said coldly, and swam off on her own. Vask followed, and left the Holdout fuming.
The escape from Rinoco Park was easy. With the waterland's main flex filter damaged by the borgbeasts' forced entry, silty bottom water was infiltrating the Park and spoiling the view. Tourists were leaving, and though visitors were kept clear of areas where Internal Security was handling mop-up, rumor of disaster and marauding beasts spread rapidly. Half the Park guests seemed to head toward the fire spouts, hoping to glimpse death and destruction, while the other half left as quickly as they could, unwilling to risk endangerment from unsafe attractions or sea-monsters running amok.
Assassin and Fixer rejoined Lish in the entrance dome. The Holdout ripped off her breather with a sigh of relief, and led the trek through the dryer stations and the exit gates. They slipped through with hundreds of other refugees fleeing Rinoco for more desirable surroundings. 'Jammers scattered to catch public conveyances, leaving the area as soon as possible on their employer's order. The smuggler seemed to have a mission of her own, striding ahead of the pair who followed her, using her com link for communications on frequencies her friends could not monitor.
Reva and Vask exchanged puzzled looks before they caught up with Lish. She stood right-side on to them, affecting a distant pose while she watched the passenger loading lanes impatiently.
"It's not safe to wait here," Reva said, glancing uneasily around the traffic loop that fronted the Park's entrance. "Let's move on, before the Grinds show up."
Lish glanced at her sidelong, then returned her gaze to the traffic lanes. "We'll catch our ride here. Devin is on his way."
"Devin?" Vask spoke in surprise. "I thought he'd be sound asleep by now." The Fixer remembered the drugged-out pilot who had greeted them at Avelar Field.
Lish raised a brow. "Why would he be asleep? He's waiting for us."
Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods, thought Reva, looking from Vask to Lish. The one remembers too much, the other remembers too little. Are things happening like I think they're happening?
Her questions were put on hold as an air car pulled up at the curb. Devin gave a half-wave, and Reva studied him warily. Same man, same face-—and it bore absolutely no sign of days on drugs to push the
Fortune
through her tortuous travels. If anything, he seemed cool and rested and aloof. He motioned to Reva; she and Vask got into the back. Lish went around the front, slipped in beside the spacer, then leaned over to kiss him hello. It was a warm and welcoming kiss, like they'd been doing it for a while.
A kiss that showed Lish's left jaw, and the red Rus'karfa battleslash laser-scribed there.
Reva felt the ground drop away beneath her.
It's happened again. I've switched Lines.
In spite of her best intentions, she'd been swept away from the Mainline she had tried so hard to stay in. Once again she was living a different Mainline, and who knew how far she had come from the original, from the Lish who was her friend?
Her throat tightened. It hit her like the disappearance of her mother, or the abandonment of her parents, or the loss of the lover she'd had once, all long discarded on distant Lines that she could never go back to. Tears welled in frustration over her powerlessness. It wasn't fair to be yanked across the Lines like this, not when she'd made a commitment, by all the hells, for the first time in her life tried to stay, to work things out—
Lish broke off with Devin and spoke to Reva. Her voice was cold. "Your behavior today was inexcusable. We'll talk about it tomorrow, and see if we have any reason to continue our association." She faced forward as if that was the end of the conversation. Devin moved the vehicle into traffic, and Reva stared fixedly at the woman who was not her friend.
I swore I'd stay, she thought, not move Lines, help Lish out -but I didn't promise myself to help
this
woman. This isn't thr person I care about. She's a ghost, like all the others when you stray off Mainline. A ghost.
She blinked the tears away, feeling a layer of protective ice settle back around her heart, a return to the safe feeling of distance she had cultivated for so long, that she had grown away from in that other Mainline. Her "real" Mainline, she was starting to think of it, she had spent so much time there out of choice. The thought was bitter and ironic. Now she would never know what happened to the people she had almost grown attached to, like Devin with his battered freighter, and the real Lish, her friend, and Vask, who puppy-dogged her—
Vask, whose hand touched her thigh, not an intimate gesture but a hard, panicked grip. She realized the Fixer was staring at Lish's caste mark, pointing surreptitiously to see if Reva noticed.
Of course she did. But why would he? Then it struck her. She reached out, wrapped steely fingers around Vask's hand, pried it from her leg. He looked at her beseechingly and she locked eyes with him as if she could see into the depths of his soul.
"You notice, too?" she choked out in hoarse disbelief. He nodded, and she clutched his hand harder. "You came, too? You're the same?"
His brows furrowed as he glanced toward Lish. "The same? As I was? Of course."
"Not of course." She gave a hurried shake of the head. "There are ways to know, memories to compare... we'll have to talk Liter." Her mind reeled with the possibilities.
"What's going on?" Vask whispered worriedly. "I saw you, there, in that... place. . .."
She stared at him earnestly, every bit of deadly reserve forgotten completely. Her eyes were those of a child, hopeful, astonished. "I saw you, too. I thought you weren't real, you couldn't possibly be real. I've never met anyone who could—"
She was near babbling, and Lish's sharp remark cut her off. "We'll drop you back at your place. Come to the Lairdome tomorrow at 0900 and we'll see where we go from here."
The Holdout's words were like a dash of cold water. Reva tore her eyes from Vask with difficulty, and saw now the supercilious caste to Lish's features as she awaited a response from the assassin.
Shiran Gabrieya Lish. Was she in mortal danger here, too? Do I even care? Reva asked herself, and knew she didn't have the answer. "O-nine hundred," she acknowledged. Lish nodded and raised the privacy shield that cut off the front seat from the back. Reva shot a nettled glare at the woman's back; it went unnoticed.