Jeffrey Carver - Eternity's End

Dennis rubbed a scar on the side of his nose. “The Spacing Authority, for one.”

Maris stared at him. She was being protected from the planetside authorities? So they were planning to take her back to the pirate stronghold.

“They do not welcome raider escapees.”

Maris nodded slowly. “Who else?”

Dennis shrugged and picked up the rifle again. “Various interests. There are many, on this planet.”

Maris opened her mouth, closed it.

“None in our backyard at the moment, though,” Lydia muttered, leaning over the console. “At least I don’t think so. There was a bit of a blip there for a second, but nothing on the sensors now.”

Looking from one to the other, Maris tried to comprehend. “What does that mean? Who is your enemy? Who are you fighting?”

“Not fighting anyone,” Dennis said. “We’re hiding.”

“And that’s why you have all these guns?”

“There are bad people out there—all right?” Lydia snapped. Standing, she flexed her right hand. A palm beamer appeared in it, and she checked its charge. “You ask too many damn questions. We’re here to protect you, and that’s all you need to know.” To Dennis, she said, “I’m taking a walk around the grounds.”

“It’s raining.”

Lydia snorted. “So that means we don’t keep a watch?”

Dennis shrugged.

“But—” Maris said, then fell silent as Lydia banged the door on her way out.

Dennis began breaking down his rifle again.

Maris sighed, reclined her chair, and closed her eyes to try to nap.

Morgan Mahoney stood in the rain with Pew and Georgio, peering down the wooded hillside. They were somewhere outside the rural community of Forest Hills. The house below the tree line was the one that Pew had identified as the supposed residence of a Mr. Lerner—the newcomer in town who was reported to have been seen meeting the car used in the abduction of Maris. Morgan pulled her rain cloak tighter, thinking, anyone who would kidnap a woman in a coma probably wouldn’t greet her and her friends with open arms.

Georgio, the Gos’n, could not seem to stand still. He was constantly stretching his three long tentacle-ended arms in restless movement. His short-stalked eyes swiveled constantly, taking in the surroundings. He was not an easy person to hide, ordinarily, but he was very good at observing. Fortunately, there was plenty of cover here, and they had a sensor-defeating camouflage mesh drawn across the bushes in front of them. The wooded surroundings that made the house inconspicuous from the road also made it relatively easy to set up for observation.

“I’ve identified six probable surveillance sensors on the outside of the building,” said Pew, keeping his foghorn voice muffled. The Swert dipped his horselike snout as he put away his remote detection gear. “There’s no telling what weapons they might have. At the verrry least, I expect they carry sidearms.”

“Like that one?” said Georgio, pointing down the hill with his third arm-tentacle.

“Eh?” said Pew.

Morgan saw a woman coming out of the house, crouching in the rain as she circled the clearing, peering one direction and then another—probably checking for intruders. The woman’s hand flexed, revealing a palm weapon. For a moment, she stared in their direction; but the camouflage screen seemed to hide them, because she moved on, circling the house. She disappeared around the far side of the house and did not reappear.

“So they ar-r-re armed,” Pew murmured.

“No charging in, then,” said Georgio.

Morgan scowled. “What should we do?”

“Well, I suppos-s-se that we could amble peaceably up to the front door,” said Pew.

“Without the police?”

The Swert scratched his great head with a long-nailed hand. “I would prefer-r-r to keep the police out of this for as long as possible. The other option is to wait and see whether there’s any actual sign of Miss O’Hare.”

“You know what I think?” Georgio said suddenly, rising in alarm. He pointed with a tentacle at a point beyond the house. “I think we’d better find out who those people are.”

Morgan suddenly felt chilled to the bone by the rain. Who—? Then she saw the movement. There were two—no, three—people in the woods on the far side of the house, apparently also watching the property. Now, who the hell would they be?

“Do you suppose the police followed the same leads we did?” Pew murmured.

“I don’t believe it’s the police,” said Georgio, his eyes shifting from side to side as he used his natural zoom lenses. “They’re not in uniform. Human, though.”

“Let’s have a look.” Pew raised a pair of high-powered binocs. He peered for a few moments, then handed them to Morgan.

The binocs were too large for her, but she managed to sight through one lens. She pressed the RELOCATE button, then clicked in for a sharp closeup—or as sharp as she could get, filtered through the rain. Two men and one woman. She frowned. One of the men looked familiar.

“I think I recognize one of them,” she said, lowering the glasses.

“Indeed?” said Pew, taking the binocs from her and touching them to his compad for download.

Morgan squinted across the distance. “I can’t be certain. But I remember looking over some reports on Centrist Strength with my mother—and someone who looked like one of those men was in the pictures.”

Georgio made a tssk ing sound. “Why would Centrist Strength care about—”

“Just a moment and I’ll tell you,” Pew interrupted. A moment later, he looked up from his compad. “She’s right.” He nodded to Morgan. “Well done, Miss Mahoney. The images match. Both of those men, in fact, are in the Centrist Strength database. The woman I don’t know.”

“Then that means someone else is holding Maris,” Morgan said.

“It also means we’d better be figuring out how to get her out of there,” said Georgio.

“But how?” said Pew. “That’s the question. How?”

Morgan looked from one to the other, but saw no answer. She shivered and hugged the rain cloak to her neck as she gazed down at the silent house.

Major Talbott used his spy-glasses to study the house through the trees. There’d been no sign of activity except for the occasional circuit of the house by the Kyber woman. Kyber woman! He still didn’t understand what was going on here. Somehow everything had gotten turned around. The Kyber were supposed to be the ones he was working with. And now it turned out they were set to raid a house held by Kyber agents! Well, it was on the authority of the frigging Joint Command—meaning the Carlotta people and people like Hizhonor North—but it still didn’t make any sense. Weren’t the Kyber supposed to be working together? It sure as shit didn’t seem like it, the way those guys down there had nabbed the O’Hare woman before Strength could get to her.

All these years of putting his balls on the line for the cause, and he still wasn’t sure he trusted the Kyber “alliance.” He had to work with Joint Command, but more and more he wondered if the loonies weren’t in charge of the asylum.

Damn it all… if he didn’t believe so much in…

“So, Major, what are we going to do here?” grumbled the raven-haired woman crouched beside him. “Just stand around taking in the view all day?”

Talbott glared at her. Lieutenant Cassill. Good-looking bitch, but a pain in the ass. Supposed to be a top “field action-group” operative—code for act first, think later, as far as he was concerned. Too bad; he could think of better uses for someone with her looks. “We’ll move when I say we move,” he muttered finally. “If we botch it, we’ll be worse off than before.” He glanced at their third member. “You understand that, right, Corporal?”