Here we go, folks! See you Thursday :)

-Plum

19 – Eleven Hours

Gladia pointed to the suitcase-sized server deck as her technicians loaded it onto a wheeled cart. “I promised her a new ship; I hope I can deliver.”

Hector shrugged. “If we’re successful on Mars, you and your brother are going to be in charge of some of the biggest shipyards in the system.”

She looked at him, her expression unreadable. After a moment, she said, “Well, I suppose that’s looking for the silver lining.”

“What about this ship? You aren’t going to try to hand it off without an AI, are you?” Hector asked.

Lemon moved a little closer, tilting her head. “I was curious how that would work, too.”

Gladia smiled, once more looking at Mae’s server deck. “Mae spawned a daughter-clone.” She cleared her throat and looked toward the sensor dome at the center of the bridge ceiling. “Yuni, are you there?”

A voice, decidedly different from Mae’s—more youthful with a tendency to clip off words in a rushed speech pattern—replied. “I’m here, Gladia. Is there something I can help you with?”

“No, just prepare the handoff protocols we spoke about.”

“Of course! I’ll ensure that everything is ready for the ship transfer.”

Gladia looked between Hector and Lemon and shrugged. “She’s competent, but she won’t have Mae’s memories, or any of the House Ventress libraries. We packed all of that up with Mae. Also, Molly doesn’t need to know this, but Yuni’s got about a quarter of the processing power that Mae had; she’s operating out of an emergency backup server.”

“Oh!” Lemon said, nodding. “I guess that makes sense.”

“Excuse me, Lady Ventress,” said one of the technicians, standing stiffly as he waited for her attention.

“Are we ready?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am! Everything’s loaded, and I just got word from the loading bay that they’re finishing up there, too.”

“Go on, then. We’ll manage Mae.”

The young man nodded, and he and the other technicians on the bridge left, many of them carrying plastic crates full of components. When they were gone, they’d taken all the loose equipment with them, leaving only the large server sitting silent on its cart. Hector thought it made leaving Maidensong a lot easier, knowing the heart of the ship was coming with them. He almost asked Gladia if she felt the same, but she was looking around the bridge, her eyes brimming with tears, so he kept his mouth shut.

Lemon moved closer to the Royal, and Hector thought she might overstep, but Gladia smiled fondly at her as she sniffed and dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. “Hector,” she said, “will you manage that cart?”

“Yeah, sure.” He took the handle of the server cart, and together they walked out of the bridge down the dimly lit corridor toward the elevator.

“I basically grew up on this ship,” Gladia said. “All of my formative memories—” Her voice hitched.

Hector looked at her, and he was sympathetic, but he also thought that maybe a little tough love was in order. “It’s a loss, for sure, Gladia, but many people lose their childhood home.” He rattled the cart handle. “Take heart in what you’re bringing with you.”

“Think of what you’re gaining,” Lemon said, as Gladia’s mouth fell closed and she clenched her jaw. “Your enemies will believe you’re dead. You’ll have freedom for the next part of…” She glanced at Hector, and he knew she was thinking about how much she didn’t know. “Well, of everything.”

“That’s why I agreed,” Gladia said, sniffing again as she nodded. “Our goals are bigger than any ship—any personal loss.”

“That’s right!” Lemon said, taking the Royal’s arm above the elbow as they walked.

By then, they were in the elevator, and Gladia said, “Loading bay, Yuni.” The elevator dropped rapidly, and before long, they were walking down the corridor and into the busy bay. Gladia gestured to where the muscle-bound Flint stood guard over the pirates. “I’ll speak to Molly.” She looked at Hector. “Do I look like I’ve been crying?”

He chuckled. “Not with your cybernetics.”

Lemon sucked her teeth and took Gladia’s shoulders, turning her to face her. “Let me see. Give me that handkerchief.”

Hector stifled a sigh and said, “I’ll go let Flint know we’re about done.” He pulled the cart along behind him and walked through the bay. He saw some of his people nearby, chatting or, in some cases, helping to carry equipment through the big airlock. Sass was sitting with Freddy near the airlock, and the sight made him a little uneasy. He worried that she was growing attached, and the girl didn’t have a clue how Royals operated; there wasn’t a chance in hell Gladia would let Freddy settle down with a girl like Sass.

//Not that they can’t be friends.//

Easy for Freddy, but not so much for Sass. She’s not the kind to take such things lightly.

//Will you talk to her?//

Hector’s expression darkened at the question. Of course, he felt like he ought to warn her, but then he’d be the bad guy—the opposition—when it came to her heart. Was it cowardly to let her learn the hard way, or was it better in the long run for her to learn for herself?

“There he is,” Flint said, his tone only slightly mocking. “Was wondering when the hero would come around and grace us trench warriors with his presence—”

“Ah, shove it,” Hector said, dropping the handle of the server cart. “I heard you had a nice, relaxing time during the battle.” He nodded toward the pirates sitting in a rough semicircle near the bay wall—some on crates, some on folding chairs, and some on the floor.

Flint looked at him sideways, hiding his face from the pirates as he chuckled. “Truthfully? It wasn’t half bad. Not one strong aura user among them. They couldn’t do shit about my shield, so I killed a few and drove them back to this bay and held them off for most of the fight; they had some heavy weapons and grenades, so I wasn’t in a big hurry to rush out and get flanked.” He shrugged and added, “I was just pissed I wasn’t there when that thing got loose on the bridge. You heard about that?”

Hector snorted. “You think you were pissed? That thing came aboard on one of my people.”

“Oh, I know. I got the whole story from the horse’s mouth. That’s one tough lady, you know that?”

“Mathews?” Hector snorted. “You can say that again. She basically crawled two and a half klicks through the rift with her body held together by threads.”

“And you didn’t think she might be a fiend?” Flint gave him a look that finished the comment with an unspoken dumbass.

Hector sighed. “I did…at first. It’s a long story.”

“Here she comes,” Flint said, looking past Hector, who turned to see who “she” was, considering they’d just been speaking about Mathews, but it turned out to be Gladia and Lemon approaching.

Hector looked at the pirates and picked Molly out, slumped against the wall, using someone’s jacket as a pillow. He stepped past Flint and whistled sharply. “Molly.”

The pirates looked at him, more than a few with murder in their eyes, but Molly looked up rather lazily. “I thought it’d take you longer than that,” she said, feigning a yawn.

“We’re leaving. Come here if you want to know how things are going to go down.”

Molly clambered to her feet and sauntered over; she couldn’t hurry or she’d lose face, Hector supposed. By then, Gladia was there, standing beside Flint, and Molly gave her a good look up and down. “Well,” she said, “you look about the same as you did on the vid call. Taller than I expected.”

“And you’re shorter,” Gladia replied. She held up a small, handheld comm device. “Pay attention: Yuni, are you listening?”

Yuni’s voice came through the device. “I’m here, Lady Ventress.”

“Keep track of the ship currently docked with Maidensong. When it has traveled outside the effective range of point-defense weapons, I want you to conduct the full, irrevocable transfer of Maidensong from me to this woman—Molly Lavoie. Command authorization: X49A7731.”

“Understood, Lady Ventress.”

Gladia held the device out to Molly, and the pirate tentatively stretched out her fingers, as though Gladia might snatch it back. When the Royal didn’t move and her fingers remained relaxed, Molly took the device. “That simple, huh?”

Gladia looked at her for several long seconds, then she turned and, without another word, strode toward the airlock. Lemon hurried after her, and Hector picked up the handle of the server cart. “Guess that’s that,” he said. He nodded to Molly once, then started after Lemon and Gladia. Behind him, he heard Flint warning the pirates not to move until Elephant was undocked. A few seconds later, the man’s heavy footsteps thudded on the plasteel decking as he caught up to Hector.

“That went faster than I expected,” the bodyguard said.

Hector glanced at him, then looked over his shoulder at the pirates, most of whom had gotten to their feet. “Guess Gladia didn’t want to risk getting emotional.”

“More like she didn’t want to risk killing all those dirtbags.”

Hector nodded. “Fair.”

Twenty minutes later, Elephant was burning as hard as its aged drives could manage, pushing them straight into the asteroid field. They didn’t head directly toward the location where Hector hoped to find the mysterious fold-enabled ship. Rather, they followed a course that would put as many asteroids between themselves and the site of the battle in the shortest amount of time possible.

None of them bothered to unpack much; they didn’t even move their personal bags into the filthy crew quarters, but Gladia assigned some of her crew to start cleaning, just in case they had to spend more time on the cargo ship than they hoped. Speaking of the crew, they were in low spirits; Balus had killed off more than a third of them back on Mars, and the pirates had gotten a few more. Only eighteen had remained to flee aboard Elephant—of a crew that had once numbered nearly forty.

Gil, Gladia’s last security officer, was depressed and bitter about Vicki’s death. He blamed himself for leaving her alone on the bridge, even though Gladia had ordered it. Apparently, the two of them had served together for years and had been quite close. Hector figured there was more to it than just camaraderie, but he didn’t say anything; he could understand the man’s anger.

After seeing that his people were settled in one of the pressurized cargo bays, Hector and Lemon made their way up to the bridge. When they got there, they found Iris and Freddy already keeping Gladia company.

“I was about to call for you, Hector,” Gladia said. “It’s time we started working our way toward your mysterious location.”

“This thing is an absolute boat,” Freddy added. “I really hope that ship of yours is where you think it is.”

Gladia frowned, nodding. “If it’s not, we may as well try to reach my brother. He should still be in Jovian space, and he might be able to get us a small, quick ship. With any luck, we’d still be able to return to Mars before the Games.”

“Is that likely?” Lemon asked, looking at Hector. “I mean that the thing we came all this way for isn’t even there?”

Hector nodded. “What you mean to ask is if we might have fought for nothing—might have killed and died for nothing.” He exhaled through his nose and looked around the junky old bridge, failing to find a clear viewscreen. “Yeah, it’s possible.”

“But likely?” Iris asked, folding her arms across her chest.

Well? Hector prompted Evie.

//Considering the size of this asteroid field, and the fact that there’s been no record of the ship matching your drive-core cipher in modern history, I’d say it’s still reasonably likely to be there. Tell your friends I put it at sixty percent.//

Hector looked from Iris to Gladia and said, “My AI thinks it’s about an eighty percent chance.”

//Hector!//

Gladia nodded, smiling slightly as she clicked her tongue. “I should have asked you that before we left Mars.”

“Eighty percent’s not bad,” Iris said. “I’d have taken that gamble for a fold-ship.”

“Well?” Gladia said, gesturing toward one of her crew members occupying a rusty metal station. “Can you give Rudolph the actual coordinates, or are we still keeping secrets?”

Go ahead, Evie.

//Sent.//

“I have them, ma’am,” the middle-aged man said, turning to nod in their direction. “Plotting a course through the field.”

“Let me know as soon as you have an ETA,” Gladia replied.

Iris groaned. “Please say it’ll be soon. I don’t want to sleep on this rusty bucket!”

Hector grinned at her. “What makes you think my ship will be any better?”

“Oh, Hector! Don’t tease me!” Iris looked from him to Lemon, her eyes wide. “He’s teasing, right?”

Lemon shook her head. “I have no idea this time. Sorry.”

“Ma’am,” the crew member—Rudolph, apparently—said, “we’re eleven hours and nineteen minutes from the target coordinates.”

“Excellent,” Gladia replied. More loudly, she said, “Don’t take your eyes off those scanners! Mr. Lewis, be sure to schedule frequent shift changes for the bridge crew. I want their eyes fresh and their concentration sharp.”

Another man whom Hector had only met in passing nodded and replied, “Of course, Lady Ventress.”

“Hector,” Freddy said, “did you see Burton before you came up here?”

“Yeah. He was down in the aft cargo hold talking to Gil. They were with some of the other crew, and I heard them mention looking for some beer.” He looked at Gladia while he spoke, and she seemed a little troubled by his words, but didn’t say anything. Hector turned back to Freddy. “Why?”

“I wanted to ask him about some one-on-one training—dueling style. You know.” He shrugged.

Hector tilted his head and regarded the young Royal. “I guess if things go your uncle’s way, there might be some duels in your future. That what you’re thinking?”

“Yeah.”

Hector nodded. “Burton’s good. Train with him, but I’ve got some pointers for you too. Maybe we’ll get some time before the Games.”

“Well, we’ll have the trip back—” Freddy stopped short, laughing. “Or maybe not if your ship really can fold.”

“Well,” Hector said, glancing at the countdown Evie had set up on his AUI, “we’re going to find out in eleven hours and sixteen minutes.”