William Dietz - Heaven's Devils

“I have an idea,” Zander replied. “Boost me up… . Maybe there’s a way down from the roof.”

Kydd looked up, judged that the roof was flat enough to stand on, and nodded. “Good idea … be careful, though. I know my father’s people will be armed, and chances are Vanderspool’s bodyguards are, too.”

Zander nodded, put his right foot into the cradle that Kydd provided, and was ready when the larger man heaved him upward. There was a muted thump as Zander threw his forearms out onto the roof. Then, having brought a leg up and over, he disappeared from sight.

Three long minutes passed, and Kydd felt very exposed on the open stairway, as Zander did whatever he was doing. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the other Devil was back, his head projecting out over the edge of the roof. “Ryk … there’s a set of skylights. Half of them are propped open. I could hear them talking. Here … grab my belt.”

The leather strap wasn’t very long but Kydd was in good shape, and once he had hold of the belt, was able to pull himself up to the point where he could transfer his grip to the roof. Then, with help from Zander, Kydd scrambled onto the slanted surface. Thanks to a splash of light from the boatyard next door, he could see well enough.

Zander held a finger to his lips, motioned Kydd forward, and led him across the heat-absorbing roof to a row of partially opened skylights. Somebody was hammering on metal in the boatyard so there was very little chance of being heard.

The inside of the glass was painted in keeping with blackout regulations, but triangles of buttery light could be seen from the sides, and Kydd could hear the soft murmur of conversation emanating from below. Part of it anyway, until a chain hoist rattled momentarily and drowned everything out.

He knelt next to one of the openings, looked down through the gap, and realized that except for some side galleries the second floor was open. Judging from the hooks that were visible, plus a net that was stretched from one side to the other, the space was used to repair fishing gear. Three men were gathered directly below him, including his father, Vanderspool, and a man Kydd had never seen before. And it was he who was speaking. He had a deep, gravelly voice.

“I’m talking about a billion credits worth of ardeon crystals all headed for Port Horthra,” he said. “That’s where they will be uploaded to transports and shipped to a more secure planet for safekeeping.”

“Except we plan to intercept them,” Vanderspool put in smoothly, “and that’s where Bennet Industries comes in. A Confederate task force is scheduled to drop into orbit three days from now. That will force your armored freighters and ore carriers to withdraw for a few days. At that point, a second-party ship contracted by Bennet Industries will take on a high-priority government cargo. One which my troops will guard.” There was something else as well, but the words were lost as some sort of announcement was made over the PA system next door.

Kydd felt sick. He remembered the speech his father had made at the university the last time he saw him. About how profitable the wars were for the Confederacy. Now he knew why.

“Which raises a very important question,” the KM official interjected. “After your troops hijack the crystals—what’s to keep them from talking later on?”

“I have a plan for that,” Vanderspool assured him. “The raid will be conducted by the 1st platoon, Alpha Company, of the 321st Colonial Rangers Battalion. That includes the squad the press calls ‘Heaven’s Devils.’ Once the operation is over I will send the survivors off to be resocialized.”

The Kel-Morian chuckled appreciatively. “Perfect … no loose ends. I like it.”

Kydd felt a heavy weight drop into the pit of his stomach. Resocialized! That was something that happened to other people. Like contracting a terrible disease—or taking a bullet in the head.

“So,” the Kel-Morian continued, “we have one last thing to discuss, and that’s the final split.”

Vanderspool said something inaudible as a Klaxon sounded, and Bennet shrugged. “How about thirds? You deliver the crystals, the colonel hijacks them during what looks like a Confederate raid, and I take them off planet.”

Kydd looked at Zander and back down again. Listening to the matter-of-fact way his father and the other men were preparing to steal valuable cargo and then brain-pan innocent soldiers made him sick to his stomach.

“That could work,” Vanderspool allowed thoughtfully. He looked straight at Bennet. “But what if I could offer you compensation of another kind?”

Bennet looked skeptical. “Such as?”

Vanderspool smiled slowly. “I know where your son, Ark, is, and in return for half of your cut, I’ll put you in touch with him.”

Kydd was shocked. How did Vanderspool know?

The offer was followed by a long moment of silence. And as the seconds ticked away Kydd felt his chest grow tight, so tight he could hardly breathe, as the head of the Bennet family took a moment to consider Vanderspool’s proposal.

Kydd couldn’t see any of their expressions from where he was, but he could imagine the slight widening of his father’s eyes, and the man’s otherwise impassive features. A face that even his mother admitted she couldn’t scan clearly. “So he’s in the military,” Bennet concluded. “Somewhere on Turaxis II.”

“I didn’t say that,” Vanderspool countered. “And it really doesn’t matter. The question is do you want your son—or would you prefer to have the money?”

Kydd frowned and bit his lip as his father spoke. “Ark could have made contact with us and he chose not to. Clearly he doesn’t care for us as we care for him. So wherever he is, he’s going to have to learn to be a man on his own. You have nothing to offer. My share stands at thirty-three percent.”

Kydd uttered a half-choked animal cry, but the sound was obscured by a loud ratcheting noise from next door, as Zander clapped a hand over his friend’s mouth. Kydd tried to push him away. That was when Zander wrapped his arms around his friend and threw both of them into a combined roll. Four rotations later they fell into the stygian blackness. Kydd took a blow to the head as he fell past a protruding support beam, and heard the roar of a passing boat as he splashed into the lake. The water was very cold, and as Kydd sank, he hoped the bottom would rise to claim him.

THE CITY OF DARBY, ON THE PLANET TURAXIS II

Doc was naked and sitting astride Tychus as the knock came on the door. They were just back from a night on the town and were a little high. “Go away!” Tychus ordered in his best parade-ground voice, and reached up to cup Cassidy’s breasts.

“It’s Zander,” a muffled voice said, from out in the hall. “We got trouble, Sarge … big trouble.”

“Damn it to hell,” Tychus said irritably, as Doc swung a shapely leg over his torso. “What am I? A goddamned babysitter?”

Cassidy pouted as she pulled a blanket up around her shoulders. She poked her foot out and playfully traced Tychus’s thigh with her big toe as he bent over to put on his boxers. With lightning speed, he reached out, wrapped one hand around both her ankles and began to tickle her feet, his favorite part of her. In a fit of screams and giggles, she squirmed around on the bed, kicking out at Tychus until he let go.