Scattered Suns - Kevin J. Anderson [208]
BeBob’s eyes remained wide. “I’m worried about that, too, Rlinda.”
“Hey, at this point, they could qualify as the cavalry. From a certain point of view.”
“If that’s the best we can hope for, then we’re really, truly screwed.”
Rlinda’s teeth rattled from the outrageous turbulence. Sparks flew from a few nonessential systems. No doubt if the Remora pursuers took time to scan all the atmospheric layers, they would spot her ion trail as she screamed through the vapors. But by that time, she hoped her ship would have gotten away on the other side of the bloated world.
One of her stabilizing engines blew out, and the Curiosity began to lurch and tumble, but Rlinda’s fingers flew, reasserting control. With brute force she plowed ahead with her beloved cargo ship, like an icebreaker through rough arctic seas. A few strong welding joints and persistent rivets barely kept all the components in place.
After they crossed the atmospheric layers of the bloated planet, the ship popped out of the far side like the cork from a champagne bottle.
Not willing to give up yet, Rlinda shut down their systems and let the battered Curiosity cruise along on its own momentum. All of her gauges and regulator systems displayed danger zones or red lines; some had shorted out entirely, so she had no way of knowing how bad the damage was.
“Well, we’re intact. I’ll say that at least,” BeBob commented. The two embraced each other in a spontaneous bear hug.
Even if the EDF decided to follow them and someone was clever enough to determine her plan, they were still hours ahead of any possible pursuit that skirted the gas giant. If Rlinda could find a place to hide, cut their energy signatures, they’d be able to play possum and remain undetected. As the battered Curiosity limped along, Rlinda scanned the handful of moons, in particular noticing a large ice-crusted rock.
From out of nowhere, two strange ships swooped in. Rlinda didn’t recognize the configuration of either one. One of the mysterious craft fired a warning blast across her bow; the other took a potshot at their engines, causing more damage.
“Hey, watch it!” Rlinda shouted into the comm system. “We’ve had enough trouble already today.”
“Prepare to be boarded,” said one of the ships. “It’s payback time, and you’re facing the meanest group of Roamer space pirates in the Spiral Arm.”
Rlinda groaned, remembering Rand Sorengaard. “We’ve already been through that, too.”
The pilots of the two craft transmitted their images: middle-aged men dressed in extravagant Roamer costumes, fully embroidered with clan markings. The better dressed of the two said, “You are our prisoners.”
Chapter 105—DOBRO DESIGNATE UDRU’H
As the rebellious warliner approached Dobro on its mission of conquest, shiing crept through its ventilation system, deck after deck. The stored canisters contained enough of the substance to subsume an entire splinter colony; it was more than enough to unravel the crew from Rusa’h’s net.
Still hidden, the Dobro Designate waited with Adar Zan’nh in the cargo decks. Time passed slowly.
Noticing their loss of focus, some of the subverted Solar Navy crewmen responded with alarm, but the inhaled drug rapidly penetrated and soothed their thoughts. Soon the entire crew was disoriented, intoxicated, partially oblivious, and—most importantly—cut off from the mad Designate’s enforced new thism.
“Even if they are lost, at least their minds are freed,” Zan’nh said, his voice muffled through the breathing film. “I only wish Thor’h were aboard this ship. I’d like to see him sealed in my old cell, where he could cause no further harm.”
Soon, the air in the warliner had a noticeably hazy appearance, as if a faint mist had arisen from between the deck plates. Released from Rusa’h’s web, the destabilized crew was no longer connected to any thism at all. Udru’h and Zan’nh now had to reassert control, bring back the loyalty of the crew, and convince them of their folly. It would be a delicate task.
Adar Zan’nh tore off the disguise