Dark Space - Marianne de Pierres [128]
‘If we land this thing and leave it, it won’t be there when we come back. Catchut? Keep it in the air and then come back for us?’
‘Yes, Capo.’
‘Can you use a rifle, Baronessa?’ Rast asked.
‘Si.’ Not to kill, though. Not to kill.
‘Then hurry up and put us down.’ Rast began checking over her rifle while Mira searched for a spot to land.
The AiV’s hydrogen cells were half depleted and the back-up cells had been removed. Much longer in the air now and they wouldn’t make the distance to the Tourmalines without another cell. Mira took one more pass to make a decision.
Switching to descent rotors, she sent the craft plummeting between two water tanks perched above the Palazzo. The gap was scarcely big enough: any drift and they would crash against the tanks sides. But she would not let Catchut fly this AiV.
The proximity alarms tripped off in an obnoxious blare. Tingling adrenalin made it difficult for Mira to keep her hands steady yet some part of her brain relished the precision of it. She dived into the gap and stayed there, seeing every lump in the seams of the tanks, every crack in the white lettering on the blackened sides.
‘What are you doing?’ shouted Rast, clutching her armrest.
Behind them, Catchut muttered what might have been prayers.
Mira counted off altitude in her head, comparing it with the display. With total concentration she slid the AiV flawlessly but too swiftly between the water silos. It thumped down onto the sloping platform and slid forward. She stalled the rotors and braked hard.
They skidded to rest on the ‘creted lip of the tank platform. The sheer drop to the palazzo below got her heart fluttering. She’d thought that the base was wider.
‘Crux, Capo, I can’t fly out of here,’ said Catchut.
Rast gave Mira a hostile look. ‘It seems the Baronessa is used to getting her own way. Pass me the E-M.’ She thrust Latourn’s rifle into Mira’s hand and opened her door.
Mira scrambled out her side the AiV. Now that she was standing her legs felt muscle-weak and her stomach ached for more food. Could she find the Principe’s chamber now that they were here? The royal Palazzo was a maze of corridors and porticos.
She peered down over the lip. Like the landing pad, the stairway access between the silos and the Palazzo had been destroyed. Rast had not waited for her, taking the direct route, belly-crawling, rifle first.
Mira followed hesitantly. As she stepped down, scree tumbled free. Her feet slid out from underneath her and she fell heavily. The ground burned through her gloves and fellala and the sun burned into her skin as if she were naked. More than anything else, she wanted a cool drink but she could not stop her momentum and she slipped and slid to the bottom.
Below her, Rast had already scaled the portico. She crouched there, waiting impatiently. The mercenary uncoiled a short thick cord from her suit and threw it down. ‘Tie it under your arms. When I take the tension, brace your feet against the wall. I’ll pull—you walk up-’
They tried several times. The cord bit into Mira’s skin and her legs trembled and collapsed when she tried to walk. She felt the tears of frustration and exhaustion mounting. This is useless. I am useless.
Rast muttered unrecognisable oaths. ‘Face away from the wall and tie it around your waist.’
The cord slipped from Mira’s fingers as she tried to knot it and her body ached in every imaginable place. She picked the rope up and tried again.
Rast began to haul her up slowly, grunting and swearing with the effort. Partway between the portico and the ground she dropped Mira.
Every part of Mira’s body felt bruised until the welcome numbness of endorphins washed over her. She wasn’t even sure if she was conscious until Rast hung over the ornate balustrade and called, ‘Crux, Baronessa. Are you dead or napping?’
The stupid insult stung her enough to make her move. Fedor tenacity got her to her feet and she reset the cord under her arms. ‘I will climb.’
A sudden waft