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Chapter Thirty-Eight

On the second day outbound from the asteroid, Bowden called the team together. So far, there hadn’t been a response to their maneuver from the second planet or any indication that they’d been seen. Passive sensors showed the corvette orbiting the planet as if nothing had happened. Whether that was because the corvette’s crew and the planetside operators hadn’t seen them, or they were just waiting for the packet to get closer, though, no one knew. Bowden, however, had more immediate concerns.

He met each of the team’s eyes, but none of them had what he was looking for. Fear of being caught. A dare to be challenged. Not knowing how to proceed, he took a deep breath and just said it. “One of you is a traitor.”

“What?” Kamara said. “How do you know someone is a traitor?”

“I looked at the ship’s log. The engine dying while we were maneuvering near the asteroid wasn’t an accident. Someone programmed it to shut down.”

Bowden shook his head. “And this isn’t the first time it’s happened. Someone sabotaged an interface craft I was flying a few months ago.” He looked at Hrensku. “It almost killed me.”

“That wasn’t me,” Hrensku replied. “I didn’t do it then, and I didn’t do this, either.”

“Funny that you were in close proximity to both, though, isn’t it?”

“I don’t find it funny at all,” Kamara said. “I find it horrific. There’s only one penalty for such a crime in our society.”

“And what’s that?” Bowden asked.

“We space him.”

“Wait a minute,” Hrensku said. “I didn’t do either of those things. Why would I make a craft that I was in crash into an asteroid to highlight myself to the enemy? It makes no sense!”

“To make yourself look innocent,” Kamara said. “Just like you said: Who would be dumb enough to disconnect a RATO bottle on takeoff?” He shrugged. “And, as to highlighting us, perhaps it is part of a plan for you to curry favor with the Kulsians.”

Hrensku turned to Bowden. “I thought you said you believed I wasn’t responsible for the crash.”

“I do, actually. I believed it at the time, and I believe it now.”

“Then who is responsible for this?” Raptis asked.

“I don’t know,” Bowden replied, “but it has to be one of you RockHounds.”

“It isn’t me,” Raptis said. “What would I stand to gain?”

“A reward?” Hrensku asked. “Perhaps a new ship?”

“But I was promised a new ship when we returned.”

Hrensku shrugged. “If we returned, you would get it. Maybe you weren’t sure we’d make it, and you were trying to hedge your bets or get in good with the Kulsians.”

Raptis turned to Bowden. “You saved my life. I owe you. I owe Kamara, too. Our society doesn’t dismiss an honor debt so quickly.”

“But—in a similar vein—Kamara owes both you and me for saving his life. If that’s true, then he didn’t do it, either, and we’re back where we started.”

“Exactly,” Kamara said. “Either Hrensku did it, or one of you Terrans did.”

“It wasn’t me,” Bowden said. “I have nothing to gain. If we get caught, I’m looking at a lot of torture, not a reward from the Kulsians. Fiezel would get the same treatment.”

Kamara nodded. “Which, once again, leads us back to Hrensku.”

“Who I don’t think did it.”

“Maybe,” Raptis said. She shrugged. “And maybe not. Only one person is here voluntarily.” She turned to Kamara. “You. Bowden and Fiezel were ordered here, as was Hrensku, for all intents and purposes. I lost my ship; I had nowhere else to go. But you”—she pointed—“you volunteered your ship and your services. Why did you do that? I’ve never known you to put your life at risk without a large gain.”

“I saved your life, didn’t I?”

“I suspect that had Bowden not been with you, you would have let me perish, then swooped in to take my ship for your own. That was probably your plan all along. You just happened to show up at the comet in time to rescue me? I’ll bet you hoped to find me dead already so you could take my ship and the load it carried. Too bad I wasn’t quite dead yet.”

“What do you mean? That’s crazy! Murphy told me to train him in the worst environments I could. That, to me, means flying near a comet.”

Raptis turned to Bowden. “I never told anyone, but my ship was sabotaged. When I landed on the comet and shut down the motor, the fuel lines crimped, and I was unable to start it again. I could have avoided the outgassing—I saw it coming—but my ship wouldn’t start up again. I told him”—she nodded to Kamara—“about an hour before I left that I was headed to the comet.”

“An hour prior,” Kamara agreed. “There wasn’t time for me to do anything to your packet. And it’s a good thing you told me about the comet—that’s how I knew it existed. If you hadn’t told me, you’d be dead now.”

“Hmm…” Hrensku said. “I believe I have another perspective on this. On the day of our plane crash, I saw Kamara on the planet. I thought it strange for a RockHound to be planetside, but, in the confusion after the crash, I never got a chance to talk to him, and I never thought about it again. What were you doing there, Kamara?”

“I was down trading for needed supplies,” Kamara replied. “It happens. You know RockHounds go to the planet once in a while for supplies.”

“Is that true?” Bowden asked.

“Once in a very long while,” Hrensku replied. “It isn’t unheard of, but it is very unusual. Most can’t stand the gravity.”

“But not unheard of,” Kamara said with a nod. “And that is what happened—I was there trading.”

“You told me you were on Outpost then,” Raptis said.

“I went there after my trip to the planet,” Kamara said with a smile. “When I saw you, I was coming from Outpost.”

“No.” Raptis shook her head. “The numbers don’t match. There is no way you could have gotten from the planet, to Outpost, and back in the time you had.” She looked to Bowden while pointing at Kamara. “There’s your traitor!”

“Wait a minute!” Kamara said. “Just because she says—”

“No,” Bowden said, “she’s right. You’re the traitor.”

“What do you mean? I never—”

“Let me ask you one question. How did you know the RATO bottle was disconnected?”

“Well, uh…” Kamara sputtered a few seconds, then said, “It was common knowledge that’s what happened.”

Bowden shook his head. “Fiezel was the one who saw the bottle was disconnected and—as far as I know—he never told anyone.”

Fiezel shook his head. “I never mentioned it.”

“Wait!” Hrensku exclaimed. “The bottle was disconnected?”

Bowden looked at Hrensku to gauge his reaction. “It was.”

Hrensku launched himself at Kamara, who tried to block him and force him away. Hrensku bounced off the RockHound but got a handful of Kamara’s suit and pulled himself back in. Kamara lost his handhold and the two floated free as they struggled to gain an advantage on each other.

“Stop it!” Raptis exclaimed in a voice that cut through their struggle. “Stop it right now.”

All four men looked to find Raptis holding a small pistol, which she pointed at Kamara. Hrensku pushed away from the RockHound, and they floated toward opposite bulkheads.

“Why did you do it, Karas’tan?” Raptis asked.

Drops of blood floated free from Kamara’s nose. The larger Hrensku had obviously scored on at least one of his blows. Kamara shrugged. “To stop all of this”—he waved a hand around at the lighter—“as you know nothing good can come of it. You know that’s true, don’t you?”

Raptis shrugged. “I don’t know what the plan is, but it’s too late to stop it. All we can do now is try to guide it to a successful end.” She stared at him a moment. “But you didn’t know what we were doing before you came aboard. What is the real reason?”

“Money, of course.” Kamara laughed. “People wanted Hrensku dead, and I was sent to kill him.”

“Wait,” Bowden said. “The RATO sabotage was you, wasn’t it?”

“Of course. And if Hrensku had been good enough to sit in the left seat, like he was supposed to, I wouldn’t be here now.” He chuckled. “You Terrans, always thinking everything is about you.” He stared at Bowden for a moment and then added, “It’s not.”

Hrensku tensed, balling his fists again.

“Stay away from him,” Raptis said. “He’s told us all we need to know. He’s guilty of sabotage and attempted murder.”

“You wouldn’t,” Kamara said. “After I rescued you from the comet?”

“Wouldn’t what?” Bowden asked.

“Put him out the airlock,” Raptis replied, never taking her eyes off Kamara. “And yes, I would. You may have saved me from the comet, but I saved you and then Bowden saved us both. And you do not gain the Death Fathers’ approval for coming to the asteroid since all you really wanted to do was kill me and take my goods as your prize.”

Kamara shrugged. “It was worth an effort.”

“Move!” Raptis ordered. She motioned with the pistol. “Airlock. Now.” She shepherded him to the airlock, with the rest of the team in trail. “Strip.”

Kamara gave her a cruel smile. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? A chance to see me naked one more time?”

“I couldn’t care less about seeing you naked; I just don’t want to waste the material in your suit and clothes. They’re worth more than the hundred kilos of shit stuffed inside them.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I shoot you, and we toss your bleeding body into the airlock. It’d be a waste of clothes and a pain in the ass to clean up the mess, but it’d be totally worth it. Please, please, give me a reason to shoot you.”

Kamara slowly peeled away the suit, then floated naked in front of Raptis with his arms out to the sides. She shook her head. “Do I have to tell you to do it?”

He nodded. “Yes.” He shrugged. “And you’ll be sorry if you do.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You want me alive. You need me alive.”

“You’re wrong.” Raptis shook her head. “We need you dead. Get in the airlock.”

“You’ll be sorry.”

“I’m already sorry. Now get in the damned airlock!

Kamara opened the airlock door and moved inside, then turned and looked expectantly at her.

“If you think I’m coming any closer to you so that you can grab me, you’re even dumber than I know you are.” She motioned toward the door controls. “Shut it.”

Kamara pushed the button and moved away from the panel. As the door closed, Raptis suddenly pushed off toward the airlock controls. Seeing her movement, Kamara tried to reverse his direction and beat her to the panel, but she was too fast. She knocked his hand back into the airlock, the door closed, and she cycled the airlock. His scream was lost as the air was ripped from his lungs, and his bowels evacuated.

Bowden looked away, having seen enough.

After a few seconds, Raptis cycled the airlock controls. “There was a point in time where he wasn’t such a bad guy.” She sighed. “Unfortunately, that was a long time ago.”

“What do we do now?” Hrensku asked.

“Nothing’s changed,” Bowden replied. “We’re committed and don’t have a way to change our vector without being seen. We continue.”


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