Charles Gannon - Raising Caine

In the screens, Deal Two’s thrusters blasted out a glowing wave of plasma. They propelled her up out of the docking cradles and then, gimballing, began to swing her in a scalded-cat hop toward the oncoming intruder—

But something unexpected was trailing behind Deal Two as Piet tried to effect his own, unorthodox ramming attempt: the tanker-tender’s umbilical was still attached to the Arbitrage , probably due to the prior damage—

Although the resistance only caused a mild jerk and delay in Deal Two’s half-Immelman attempt at smashing itself into the oncoming ship, that was time enough for the attackers to react. Two of the low, black, lusterless mini-domes near the prow of the enemy ship spun in the direction of the tanker—

— which was abruptly ripped end to end by invisible, crisscrossing beams which left glowing slices along Deal Two’s fuselage. One of those beams triggered an explosion which converted the whole boat into a tumbling storm of debris. The intruder jinked slightly to avoid a spinning, savaged bay door, and kept coming on.

No one said anything. Jorge Velho hefted the autoshotgun, reflected that he hoped his experience with semiautomatic sporting versions on his uncle’s sugar and silviculture plantation near Belém would stand him in good stead. “Ms. Tagawa has the con. And she will assume command in the event that I am — incapacitated.”

Ayana started. “Captain Velho, as the XO, I am expendable and should be—”

“Ms. Tagawa, the matter is not open to discussion. Ignoring my command prerogative for a moment, it is quite obvious that you are more familiar with the best protocols to employ in this scenario.” You seem to be much more familiar with them. Indeed, suspiciously so… “ Arbitrage needs that expertise, whether in escaping, or negotiating a settlement with the intruders.” He told himself that only a tiny part of his motivation stemmed from male protective instincts that had been drilled into his genome through uncounted millennia. “Piet, keep a firm hand on the tiller.”

“Aye, sir,” said the South African ruefully.

Velho exited the bridge, pointedly resisting the urge to glance back.

At Ayana.

* * *

Nezdeh watched the external monitors as Ulpreln counted off the last ten meters to the Arbitrage . “Ten, nine…”

“Slow us.”

“Obeyed. Eight, seven.” The pause lengthened. “Six. And…”

“Now: final retroboost.”

“Boosting — and we are at relative-velocity all-stop, Nezdeh.”

“Still no countermeasures deployed by the target?”

Sehtrek glanced up. “None observable, Srina Perekmeres.”

She nodded and switched channels. Action: at last. “Primary EVA team?”

“We are ready.”

“Commence assault.”

“Complying.”

In the external monitors, Nezdeh watched the main EVA hatch, just aft of midship, open. A line of spacesuited figures emerged. Organized as three separate teams, they traversed the four remaining meters to a double-sized EVA portal in the Arbitrage ’s hull, a small access bay for loading ship’s stores. Each team’s lead figure used active maneuver jets to reach the Aboriginal ship, towing three more figures behind. As two of the team leaders produced tools consistent with forced ingress procedures, the third team leader floated to the side, weapon ready.

“Secondary EVA team?”

Brenlor’s impatience was audible. “Here. And still waiting.”

Nezdeh almost rolled her eyes. And you shall continue to do so. For one more minute.

* * *

On the bridge of the Arbitrage , Emil Kozakowski was tempted to shove Tagawa out of the way to get a better look at the small external monitor that showed the would-be boarders who had gathered forward of Deal Two’s empty docking cradle.

“Yes,” Tagawa was telling Velho over the intercom, “a dozen boarders at bay Foxtrot-Twelve. I do not recognize their weapons or suits.”

Velho’s voice, Lilliputian as it escaped Tagawa’s earbud, began shouting for more personnel to deploy to the bay, drawing them from the teams watching other access points and from the reserves being held further in-hull. Kozakowski estimated that the defenders would outnumber their dozen attackers by better than six to one, once the repositioning was completed. He leaned toward the screen and Ayana. “What are the raiders doing at the bay, do you think?”

Tagawa did not even move her eyes toward him. “They seem to be attempting some kind of external electronic bypass.”

“Odd. How could they hope to understand the electronics of our ships?”

Now she did turn toward him. “I was wondering if you might be the very person to answer such a question, Mr. Kozakowski.” Her gaze was level. It was no more emotional than usual, but somehow, it conveyed a startling degree of animus.

Kozakowski felt his face grow hot. “I do not appreciate your insinuation, Ms. Tagawa.”

“And I do not appreciate your presence, Mr. Kozakowski. But, as to the matter of their boarding attempts: you will notice the large cases carried by two of the waiting team members on each of the boarding strings. I suspect that if they cannot bypass our electronics, they shall use explosives. I expect, given the technology we have witnessed so far, they would breach the hull easily.”

“Wonder why they didn’t just use charges in the first place, then,” commented Piet sourly.

“The mere fact that they are boarding us suggests that they value either the ship, or something on it,” Ayana replied, without glancing at Piet.

She was studying the actions of the breaching team so closely that she did not notice new motion in another screen, half-obscured by Kozakowski’s pear shaped body. It offered a wide-angle view that, while reprising the boarding attempt in miniature, showed the entirety of the raider—

— From behind which, four more space-suited figures emerged. Unlike the first twelve, these boarders were wearing large maneuver packs, carrying sizeable weapons, and seemed, if anything, overburdened. As soon as they had regrouped just beyond the far aft quarter of their own hull, they fired their maneuver jets and moved rapidly forward, angling toward the keel of the Arbitrage .

Kozakowski glanced at Ayana, who was not allowing her gaze to drift in his direction — or, therefore, toward the monitor containing the wide-angle view of the intruder.

Kozakowski watched the four new figures jet out of the side of the frame. They would soon be between the stilled rotational armatures of the Arbitrage’s twin toruses, heading toward the bow.

He said nothing.

* * *

Nezdeh watched the four members of Brenlor’s Team Two, all wearing heavily armored EVA suits, cut a straight line through the radial arms of the Arbitrage ’s two rotational habitats. “Is there any sign they’ve been detected?”

“None, Srina Perekmeres,” Sehtrek replied.

Nezdeh shook her head. “Still, they will spot Team Two any moment.” But every additional moment that Brenlor’s men remained undetected meant less warning for the defenders. And given the diversion that Team One was staging near the more logical entry point — the bay door — the Aboriginals might, even now, be concentrating their forces away from Brenlor’s actual point of entry.

Nezdeh activated her beltcom. “Brenlor, ETA?”

“Thirty seconds. Radiation dose-rate from this gas giant is tolerable.”

“Is it interfering with your electronics?”

“No. They are sufficiently hardened. Heads-up display and map schematics are reading clearly. How kind of the Aboriginals to provide us with deck plans of their ship.”

“That is the point of suborning an opponent, rather than attacking or conquering them outright.” A distinction which the other Perekmeres males would have been wise to appreciate before they hatched the ridiculous plots that ultimately led to our House’s Extirpation. In the monitor, she saw the four figures of Team Two arrive near a small, personnel-sized airlock door, just forward of the leading rotational habitat. “Activate your helmet cameras.”