hair.
“What do you know about Morgan Roche?” De Bruyn asked, sitting up and rubbing at her neck.
“Only what we’ve heard,” he said. “There’s a lot of stories going around about her. Her name keeps cropping up. Not many of the details match, though. The general impression is she’s somehow relevant to everything going on here. Someone who might be dangerous.”
“Yes, she is—but to whom? Us or the enemy?”
He frowned. “Meaning?”
“All those stories you’ve heard,” she said. “They’re all lies. Every one of them. The purpose of the stories is to hide the truth, and to keep attention focused on her—so that when she’s ready, she can act.”
His skeptical look didn’t change. “And what is the truth?”
“I’m not sure,” De Bruyn said thoughtfully. “But I think I can find out. All I need is a little more time, and”—she hesitated significantly—”some help.”
He studied her for a long time. She looked patiently back.
“We have a ship,” he said eventually. “It doesn’t look much, but that’s the idea.”
“It’s not your ship I’m interested in,” she said. “What’s your crew like?”
“Hand-picked.”
“How many?”
“Eight.”
“And you trust them?”
“With my life.” He smiled. “But not my money.”
She leaned back into her seat and returned the smile. “Okay, then. Let’s talk business.”
Lenz relaxed and moved around the table. His buddy slid over to make room. “You should know that we don’t come cheap,” he said. “For what you’re asking—”
As soon as his hand came off her pistol, De Bruyn grabbed it and shot him through the chest. She shot his buddy too, before he had a chance to register what had happened. Screams erupted around her before the bodies had even hit the floor.
De Bruyn took the lights out with her next two shots, then slipped through the panicked crowd and out of the bar before anyone realized that she had gone. At the first sign of pursuit, she triggered the nugget of turcite with a quick burst from her implants. The explosion tore through pressure-walls and bulkheads, the shock wave hurling her and her pursuers through a locked door and into a storage room full of cartons. She sustained only minor bruising and temporary hearing loss, and was back on her feet in time to ensure that none of her pursuers would ever wake again.
The authorities believed her story about a clash between rival mercenaries. Using her EEPC pass, she was on the tug within the hour, and back on Kindling an hour after that.
* * *
said Trezise when she had reopened communications with him.
she said with studied indifference. He paused for a moment.
She shrugged noncommittally. He knew damn well it hadn’t, she guessed, and that ate at her. She was no better off than she had been the day before. But it was only a matter of time before she found someone suitable for her needs. There were many other places to look, and she would have plenty of other opportunities to do so while she followed Roche across the system.
Kindling’s engines hummed softly through the walls of its cramped cockpit. In a way, she was glad to be on her own. Relying on other people was dangerous, albeit a necessary danger at times. It was much better, she’d always thought, to have them rely on you....
<1 hope you know what you’re doing, Page,> said Trezise across the expanding distance between the two ships—one as large as a good-sized moon, the other barely a speck. There was still no emotion in the man’s
“What do you know about Morgan Roche?” De Bruyn asked, sitting up and rubbing at her neck.
“Only what we’ve heard,” he said. “There’s a lot of stories going around about her. Her name keeps cropping up. Not many of the details match, though. The general impression is she’s somehow relevant to everything going on here. Someone who might be dangerous.”
“Yes, she is—but to whom? Us or the enemy?”
He frowned. “Meaning?”
“All those stories you’ve heard,” she said. “They’re all lies. Every one of them. The purpose of the stories is to hide the truth, and to keep attention focused on her—so that when she’s ready, she can act.”
His skeptical look didn’t change. “And what is the truth?”
“I’m not sure,” De Bruyn said thoughtfully. “But I think I can find out. All I need is a little more time, and”—she hesitated significantly—”some help.”
He studied her for a long time. She looked patiently back.
“We have a ship,” he said eventually. “It doesn’t look much, but that’s the idea.”
“It’s not your ship I’m interested in,” she said. “What’s your crew like?”
“Hand-picked.”
“How many?”
“Eight.”
“And you trust them?”
“With my life.” He smiled. “But not my money.”
She leaned back into her seat and returned the smile. “Okay, then. Let’s talk business.”
Lenz relaxed and moved around the table. His buddy slid over to make room. “You should know that we don’t come cheap,” he said. “For what you’re asking—”
As soon as his hand came off her pistol, De Bruyn grabbed it and shot him through the chest. She shot his buddy too, before he had a chance to register what had happened. Screams erupted around her before the bodies had even hit the floor.
De Bruyn took the lights out with her next two shots, then slipped through the panicked crowd and out of the bar before anyone realized that she had gone. At the first sign of pursuit, she triggered the nugget of turcite with a quick burst from her implants. The explosion tore through pressure-walls and bulkheads, the shock wave hurling her and her pursuers through a locked door and into a storage room full of cartons. She sustained only minor bruising and temporary hearing loss, and was back on her feet in time to ensure that none of her pursuers would ever wake again.
The authorities believed her story about a clash between rival mercenaries. Using her EEPC pass, she was on the tug within the hour, and back on Kindling an hour after that.
* * *
She shrugged noncommittally. He knew damn well it hadn’t, she guessed, and that ate at her. She was no better off than she had been the day before. But it was only a matter of time before she found someone suitable for her needs. There were many other places to look, and she would have plenty of other opportunities to do so while she followed Roche across the system.
Kindling’s engines hummed softly through the walls of its cramped cockpit. In a way, she was glad to be on her own. Relying on other people was dangerous, albeit a necessary danger at times. It was much better, she’d always thought, to have them rely on you....
<1 hope you know what you’re doing, Page,> said Trezise across the expanding distance between the two ships—one as large as a good-sized moon, the other barely a speck. There was still no emotion in the man’s
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