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CHAPTER FIFTEEN


“There,” Dent said, pointing at the forward visual display. “You see it? That gap right there.”

“Yes, I see it,” I growled. I saw the narrow opening in the rows of trees, all right. I also saw that it was way smaller than any landing pad I’d ever tried to put the Ruth down on. Not to mention that the whole thing was lined with spindly evergreen trees that would be trying to grab and unbalance the ship the whole way down.

But this was the last of the three small clearings Dent had offered, and we couldn’t doodle around up here forever. The only other option was to admit defeat, fly up to the Aerie Spaceport, and hope that no one noticed the glitterpaint currently adorning the Ruth’s butt.

And I had no intention of admitting defeat. Not in front of Selene and Ixil. Certainly not in front of Dent.

“Go back to the dayroom and strap in,” I ordered him. “Selene?”

“No signs of ships or aircraft,” she reported from the nav station, where she’d taken over sensor duty. “Popanilla has three multipurpose satellites, but none of them are in position to see us.”

And that lack of a full overlap probably didn’t occur very often. It was now or never. “Okay,” I said, hunching my shoulders and resettling my fingers on the controls. It could be worse, I reminded myself as the forest rushed up toward us. I could be down in the service crawlway like Ixil, blind and deaf to what was happening, and squarely in line to be the first casualty if it all went diagonal. “Here we go.”

After all the sweat, prep, and mental drama, the landing itself was actually rather anticlimactic. Between the main thrusters in the stern and the maneuvering jets at the bow, I was able to ease the Ruth to a mostly stationary stop over the gap, and a little more fancy footwork and we were down. Not quite as smoothly as I’d liked, but not nearly as crushing as I’d feared.

“Welcome to Shiroyama Island,” I said as I shut down the ship’s systems to erase our electronic signature and prayed that the thrusters’ residual heat would burn away fast enough to keep some wandering IR detector from spotting us. “What now?”

“We head out,” Dent said from the bridge hatchway. “It’s a good two-and-a-half day march to Trailhead, and most of that will be through virgin forest. The sooner we start, the better.”

“What about this stash of yours?” I asked.

“We’ll pick it up on the way to Trailhead,” he said. “Let’s break out the camping gear and get moving.”

I made a face. Camping gear: the odds and ends from the Ruth’s stores that Dent had repurposed. Thin flexible tubing in lieu of rope, clamps in lieu of crampons, spare bracing struts in lieu of walking sticks, mesh bags and tool pouches in lieu of backpacks. But it was better than nothing.

“Phones?” Dent prompted.

“They’re in the dayroom,” Selene said. “Batteries and data chips removed.”

“Good,” Dent said. “They won’t be any good for most of the trip anyway, and even turned off they could still be tagged by badgeman scanners. Roarke, you’re lugging the food. Feel free to grab a mule if we happen across one.”

“Funny,” I grunted. Dent had planned our food supplies based on his two-and-a-half-day estimate: eight food bars total for each of us. He’d gone light on water, doling out a single liter bottle each, assuring us there were innumerable creeks and streams flowing from the snow-packed mountains at the island’s northern end.

But I’d seen the terrain we were passing over as I headed for our landing site, and as my father used to say, If you’re going to err, err on the side that doesn’t leave you hungry or shot. Ignoring Dent’s condescending disdain, I’d packed an extra day’s worth of food bars for each of us, plus an extra liter of water.

I also packed all the cash and certified bank checks we had aboard, and made sure Floyd’s blast ribbon was secured around my arm under my sleeve. We had no idea what we were heading into, and it was never a bad idea to have a diversion ready at hand.

It was even more useful to be armed. Unfortunately, the only weapon we had left was Dent’s ChasArms 4mm. “I can also carry your gun if you want,” I offered. “There’s a perfect spot for it in with the meal bars.”

“I’ll bet there is,” he said, making a point of snugging the weapon a little more solidly into his holster. “Come on—we’re burning minutes.”

Three minutes later, we were on our way.

It was still two hours until local sunrise, which meant that for the first hour our route would be lit only by Popanilla’s two small moons and whatever starlight could get through the trees, augmented by the microscopic glow levels Dent was willing to allow for our flashlights. I had my night-vision monocular, but out here in the wilderness even its tiny electronic signature might be detectable, and Dent had forbidden me to use it except in case of emergency. That meant a slow pace and a fair amount of stumbling, but he was insistent that we get on our way as soon as possible.

On this one I had to agree with him. No matter how stealthy our approach and landing had been, there was no way it would remain unnoticed forever. The farther away we were when curious badgemen swooped in for a closer look, the better.

Especially since we were heading northwest, roughly in the direction of Trailhead and Aerie. Our hope was that the badgemen would look at a map of the island, note that the surfing and wavewatching resorts directly to the west were only two hours away by foot and the largest boat tour and warmsuit diving center directly east only four, and concentrate their efforts in those directions. The farther and faster we could move out of those search zones, the better.

Like the landing itself, the first stage of the hike turned out to be easier than I expected. There was plenty of underbrush, but there weren’t a lot of big stones or other obstacles, and the local trees mostly kept their roots underground where they belonged. About an hour into the trip, with still an hour to go before sunrise, the sky to the east began to lighten, and from that point on the trip became almost easy.

Until, that is, the terrain started to slope upward.

“I swear, you two are in the worst shape of anyone I’ve ever seen,” Dent grumped at us during the third of our rest stops, this one taking advantage of a downed tree that was just the right height for a human butt to park on. “Don’t you ever get any exercise in fresh air?”

“We’re crocketts,” I grumped right back at him, wincing at the aches in my thigh muscles. “Our whole job description is to fly to unexplored planets, collect bio samples from the air, then go on to the next one. Not a lot of call in there for traipsing through alien forests.”

“You’re still listed as bounty hunters. I’d think that would get physical every now and then.”

“Most hunter targets don’t hide out in the boonies,” I said. “And all your better cities have cabs and runarounds. We also try very hard to get the restraints slapped on without chases or running gun battles.”

“Was hiding out the reason you were here?” Selene asked.

“Of course not,” Dent said. His voice was even, but I could see the sudden wariness in his eyes. “What makes you think that?”

“You seem to know the place quite well.”

“Comes of a year of working it,” Dent said. “I already told you there were a lot of high-end tourist places on the island. I worked out of Trailhead as a hiking guide.”

“Picking out which of those high-end tourists to rob?” I suggested.

He gazed coolly at me. “Considering that you’re currently traipsing through an alien forest without a single clue as to what you’re doing, I’d be a little less antagonistic toward your trail guide if I were you. There’s a hell of a lot about Shiroyama Island that you don’t know.”

“There’s a hell of a lot about Patth and Iykams that you don’t know,” I shot back. “How about we work together toward the goal of all of us walking out of here alive and with all our current limbs intact?”

He snorted a laugh. “Right. Yeah, okay. I guess you’ve got a point.”

There was a sudden soft rustle in the underbrush off to the side. I started, peering that direction, but Dent just gave another laugh. “Relax, Roarke, there aren’t any big predators on the island.”

“What about small predators who hunt in packs?” I countered gruffly. I was pretty sure I knew now what the sound had been, but I’d already reacted nervously and it seemed best to keep the act going for the moment.

Sure enough, two meters past the spot where I’d heard the noise, Pax’s bright eyes appeared briefly through the weeds before he darted out of sight again. Ixil had followed us, as I’d expected him to, and was using his outriders to monitor our progress and, presumably, record our conversations for playback once they were back on his shoulders and reconnected to his nervous system.

I just hoped he’d warned them to stay out of sight. If Dent really had spent a year here, he would certainly know which animals were native to the island and which weren’t.

“Oh, don’t go all dramatic on me,” Dent scoffed. “You want to see the worst packs Shiroyama has to offer? Fine. Pull out one of those pointless meal bars you packed, will you? Make it one of the dark chocolate ones.”

I dug out the requested bar, resisting the urge to tell him that they were not pointless and that if he got lost or injured he’d be damn glad I’d brought them. “You suddenly need a snack?” I asked sarcastically.

I don’t, no,” Dent said. “Peel off the wrapper, then shred the top of the bar between your fingers and scatter the crumbs on the ground over there.”

I frowned at Selene, got an equally puzzled look in return, and did as requested. “If we end up with short rations, by the way, that was one of yours,” I warned him. “What exactly—?”

And with a flurry of flapping wings, the forest around us exploded in birds.

They were small birds, I saw after that first brain-freezing second: brown and sparrow sized, the sort that some people call songbirds. No talons, no sharp beaks, basically harmless to anything that wasn’t a seed or a bug. But in that first surge of adrenaline, as they swarmed around and past me, it was like someone had kicked over hell’s own birdcage.

A second later the chaotic flow was over, and thirty or more of the things were on the ground, busily scarfing up the crumbs I’d unwittingly tossed to them.

“Fun, aren’t they?” Dent asked with a blandness that didn’t even try to hide his satisfaction at my reaction. “They’re called sugarbirds. Love anything and everything that contains earth-based sugars. If you’re planning a picnic on Shiroyama Island, make sure to leave the sweet tea and desserts at home.”

“Or else bring enough to share,” I muttered, watching the birds in fascination. It reminded me of the times when I was a child when a colony of ants had found some melted ice cream or a dead grasshopper and were putting every bit of communal effort into collecting everything their little pincers could carry. Here, though, there was more competition than cooperation. The birds were standing wing to wing, jostling for position as their heads bobbed up and down.

And then, as abruptly as they’d arrived, the whole flock lifted into the air again, splitting apart and darting madly off in all directions. Five seconds later, it was as if the whole thing had never happened.

Except that half my meal bar was now gone.

“You mean like bringing one cake for you and another one for the birds?” Dent shook his head. “Doesn’t work. You bring more sugar, you just get more birds.”

“And you’d know this how?”

“It was a great way to entertain my trail clients,” Dent said. “Good opportunity for pictures, and makes a great story to tell the folks at home afterward.”

I felt a sudden tightening of my throat. Pictures . . .  “Except that it all happens pretty fast,” I said, keeping my tone casual. “By the time they have their phones or cams out, all the fun stuff is over.”

“Only half of it is,” Dent said, sounding suddenly cautious. “They can catch the eating and the exodus.”

“They’ll still miss the mad arrival, though,” I said. “Or will they? Selene, get your cam out, will you? Let’s see how much of it you can get.”

“We’re wasting time,” Dent said, getting abruptly to his feet. “Come on, we need to get moving.”

“This’ll just take a second,” I soothed. The remnant of the meal bar was still clutched in my hand, sheathed in the wrapper I’d reflexively twisted back around it when the birds appeared. I waited until Selene nodded that she was ready, then broke the bar in two pieces, crushed a section in either hand, then tossed the crumbs to my sides.

For a moment nothing happened. I saw Selene’s nostrils and eyelashes working as she tried to smell the birds’ arrival.

Then, but only because I was listening for it, I heard the faint fluttering sound warning that the scavengers were on their way. The sound ramped up, and two seconds later they were there, the swarm dividing in half to attack the new heaps of crumbs. A minute later they were gone, and all was again quiet. “Did you get it?” I asked, looking at Selene.

“Yes, but not very well,” she said, turning her cam around to show me. “They’re too fast for the camera’s lens speed to handle.”

“So I see.” She had indeed caught the incoming swarm, but the picture was so blurry you could barely make out what was happening. “So even a second showing isn’t going to do most people any good. Not unless they specifically reset the camera’s speed.”

“Yes.” Selene looked up at Dent, who was still standing. “Or unless someone else has good photos from an analog-type camera to sell them.”

I saw a subtle movement in Dent’s throat. Maybe he was remembering that the photo of the dead man he’d shown us had been taken with precisely that kind of camera. “You make it sound like I’m cheating them,” he said, his voice low.

“Not at all,” I assured him. “I’ve worked in the entertainment and service industries. Upselling your customers is how you make the gig worth it. Offering them pictures they didn’t know they wanted is a lot cleaner than a lot of angles I’ve seen people run.”

“So glad I’ve got your approval,” he said acidly. “If you’re done playing games, we’ve still got a lot of ground to cover, and we’re already behind schedule. Keep up or I’ll leave you behind.”

“Not a problem.” I stood up, suppressing a groan as my legs again took loud exception to the change in position. “We’ll just wait for you to open a meal bar and follow the birds.”

“Funny,” he said with a grunt. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Dent had said it was two and a half days to Trailhead. But at the rate Selene and I were going—certainly at the rate Dent’s complaints suggested we were going—it was clear we were falling further and further behind that schedule.

The sun was touching the top of a ridge to the west, and Dent was looking for a place to bed down for the night, when we topped a small rise and he peered back along our route. “Uh-oh,” he muttered. “Say good-bye, everyone.”

I followed his line of sight. In the distance, midway down the slope we’d been climbing all day, I could see a trio of small aircars slowly circling a section of the forest. “That the Ruth?” I asked, a lump forming in my throat.

“Yep,” he said, shading his eyes from the glare from some snow-covered peaks on the eastern horizon. “Those are too small to be tugs, and there are too many to be any of Popanilla’s small-time crime bosses. Process of elimination leaves the badgemen.”

I scowled. Who would of course spot the glitterpaint and send out a flurry of queries to every corner of the Spiral.

We’d already been down two bioprobes, and now we were down a whole Trailblazer ship. I tried to imagine what Admiral Graym-Barker would say, but my weary imagination wasn’t up to it.

“What’s that?” Selene asked.

“It’s your ship,” Dent said with exaggerated patience. “Pay a little attention—”

“No,” Selene interrupted, pointing toward the ground in front of us. “That.

I looked where she was pointing. In an angled cut of dirt where erosion had sliced away part of a small mound, I could see something metallic glinting in the last light from the setting sun.

“I’ll be damned,” Dent said, stepping over and digging a short cylindrical object out of the dirt. “Remember all the alien soldiers who supposedly died here?”

“Yes,” I said, staring as he held it up. “Is that . . . ?”

“One of their armbands,” he confirmed. “Congratulations,” he added as he walked back to us and handed it to Selene. “You’re now officially a couple thousand commarks richer. These things go like straw in the wind on the collector market.”

“Sounds great,” I said, watching as Selene gently brushed off the remaining dirt, her eyelashes again fluttering. “Maybe we can use it to get the Ruth out of impound.”

“You sell it here and you’ll only get a fraction of what it’s worth,” Dent warned. “The real market is with spoiled billionaires who already have one of everything else.”

“Even better,” Selene said. She admired the armband a moment, then put it away in the tool pouch around her waist. “Would you be able to introduce us to one of them?”

“Possibly,” Dent said. “What’s in it for me?”

“What do you want?” I asked.

He looked me straight in the eye and visibly braced himself. “I want Icarus.”

I looked past him at Selene. Her pupils were wary and warning. “Why?” I asked.

“I’m getting sick of your evasion, Roarke,” he growled. “Do you know him, or don’t you?”

“Still waiting to hear what your interest is.”

“Yeah.” He took a deep breath, huffed it out. “Never mind. You keep your secrets, and I’ll keep mine.” He turned his back and stalked off into the trees. “Let’s find a place to camp. The trickiest part of the walk starts tomorrow, and I plan to be asleep by nightfall.”

* * *

Five minutes later we found a sort of hollow spot in the ground filled with matted leaves and mosses that Dent declared would be adequate for our needs. We’d brought some spare blankets with us from the ship and set about making the best sleeping pads we could. It was quickly clear, though, that we were in for an uncomfortable night.

My suggestion that we name our temporary home Sleepy Hollow went ignored.

Dent was clearly an old hand at this. While Selene and I were experimenting with blankets, jackets, and piles of leaves, he got himself organized, scarfed down his meal bar and a couple of chugs of water and was wrapped up ready to sleep well before the last light left the western sky. I lay down on the other side of Sleepy Hollow and waited, eyes open, for the inevitable.

Sure enough, fifteen minutes after Dent’s breathing settled into the slow rhythm of sleep, a small rodent nose prodded insistently into my ribs. I sat up, saw that Selene was still awake, and motioned for her to keep watch on Dent. Stifling the groans that my whole body was urging me to voice, I got up and headed into the forest as quickly and quietly as my stiffened muscles would allow.

This, I told myself blackly, had better be good.

Ixil was sitting in a stand of thick trees, his back resting against the largest of them. “How are you and Selene holding up?” he asked softly as I reached him.

“Tired, aching, and looking forward to a good night’s sleep,” I said, wincing some more as I eased myself down beside him. “This better not be you asking if I’ll swap meal bars with you.”

“It isn’t,” he said. “Three things. One: The badgemen have located the Ruth.”

“I know,” I said. “We saw them circling over it earlier.”

“Interesting,” he said. “I didn’t realize you would be in sight of it. My information came from the official comm channels.”

“Didn’t know civilians could access those.”

“They can’t,” he agreed. “Two: that armband you found. Is it really as valuable as Dent claims?”

“There was no indication from Selene that he was lying,” I told him. “If the history of the island is accurate, I can see that kind of artifact being reasonably rare. What are you getting at?”

“If it’s that valuable, I’m wondering why Dent didn’t make more of a fuss about ownership,” Ixil said. “Just giving it to Selene strikes me as odd.”

“Oh, that one’s obvious,” I told him. “He’s planning to steal it.”

Pix and Pax, crouching on Ixil’s shoulders, gave one of their little synchronized twitches. “You think so?”

“You said yourself he should have made a fuss,” I reminded him. “Oh, it won’t happen tonight. He won’t take it until he’s ready to ditch us and get out of here. Probably tomorrow night.”

“I hope he’s not planning to leave via the Aerie Spaceport,” Ixil warned. “Because that’s bit of news number three. Floyd and the others are here.”

I felt my eyes widen. “You mean here on Popanilla?”

“I mean here on Shiroyama Island,” Ixil said grimly. “They put down at Aerie about six hours ago.”

“And I doubt they’re here for the skiing,” I growled. “Damn it all. I was hoping we’d lost them.”

“Unfortunately not,” Ixil said. “Thoughts?”

I scowled into the darkness. It would just be our luck to march out of the wilderness and straight into Floyd’s arms. “Any idea where they are now?” I asked. “Dent suggested that the badgemen might start with the warmsuit and surfing areas east and west of the Ruth. If he was right, maybe Floyd elected to tag along and see if they would flush us out for him.”

“It would certainly be convenient for us if he was looking the wrong way right now,” Ixil agreed. “And yes, that appears to be where the badgemen have begun their search. Unfortunately, I don’t know about Floyd and his group. It’s even possible they’ve split up.”

“That is how Fulbright organized the search for us on Marjolaine,” I conceded. “Each of them watching one of the likely StarrComm centers.”

“And we saw how well that worked for them.”

“Only because Mottola wasn’t ready for me,” I said. “They’ll be more on their guard this time. We really need to know where they are before we leave the forest.”

“I’m sorry,” Ixil said. “I can’t access private phones, and there’s been nothing about them on official channels since the Northern Lights landed.”

I frowned through the darkness. “They came in the Northern Lights? How do you know it’s them?”

“I sent them there when they thought they were chasing you on Gremon, remember?” Ixil said. “Who else could it be in that ship?”

“Maybe Easton’s brother Weston?”

“I thought he was guarding your backs outside the Ruth when Floyd reached the Northern Lights.”

“Yes, he was,” I conceded. And of course the news of that melee would have been blared all over the official badgeman comm system. If Floyd was monitoring it—and as one of Varsi’s senior enforcers I had no doubt he had the same kind of illegal access that Ixil did—he would have known instantly that he’d missed us and started working on a new plan. The Northern Lights sitting empty right there in front of him was the obvious solution. “So the Ruth is gone, and the Northern Lights has been commandeered. Popanilla is starting to feel a little claustrophobic.”

“A bit,” Ixil conceded. “But there are still options. If I can get to the StarrComm center I can have the admiral send a ship for us. The question then would be whether we can go to ground until it gets here.”

“Just as well that I brought extra food,” I said. “There is, of course, another possible option. If the portal Dent found is here on Shiroyama, and if we can get to it, we can blink out of here.”

“That not only assumes the portal is here, but that it’s operational,” Ixil warned. “And that Dent knows where it is. Remember, Selene said the scent she detected on him was faint. If he touched it without recognizing its significance, he may genuinely not remember where it is.”

“Then why was he searching for the name Icarus?” I countered. “Okay, yes, I know he thinks Icarus is a person, but still. And why is he searching for me?”

“That does unfortunately remain a mystery,” Ixil agreed.

“And it’s got plenty of company,” I said. “Anyway, thanks for the heads-ups. I’d better get back before Dent wakes up and notices I’m gone. Keep an eye out, and watch yourself.”

“I will,” Ixil said. “Though as Dent said, there don’t appear to be any dangerous animals on the island.”

“Maybe, but something like those sugarbirds could still make life unpleasant,” I pointed out. “Dent says we’ll have one more night on the road. I’ll try to check in with you tomorrow after he’s asleep.”

“I’ll send Pix to guide you to me,” Ixil said. “You be careful, as well. Remember that Dent himself might be the biggest danger in this forest.”

“That thought had not escaped me,” I said. “Sleep well.”

Selene was still awake when I got back to camp. She caught my eye as I passed the last line of trees and twitched her fingers to beckon me over. Stepping carefully through the matted leaves, I eased down beside her. The ground on her side of Sleepy Hollow was just as lumpy as on my side. “Dent still asleep?” I whispered.

“Yes,” she whispered back. “What did Ixil want?”

I gave her a quick summary of our conversation. “It sounds like he doesn’t think the portal is here,” she said when I’d finished.

“I really don’t know what he thinks,” I said. “Or what he knows. And—well, never mind,” I interrupted myself, suddenly wondering if I should even bring this up.

“Are you thinking that Ixil or someone at Icarus might have been the one who told Floyd where we’d gone?”

I made a face in the dark. I really needed to stop forgetting she could think as fast and twistedly as I could. “I know it sounds crazy,” I said. “But if Graym-Barker wants to force Dent to use the portal—assuming Dent even knows how to do that—closing off all other exits from the island would be one way to do that. If the portal is here.”

I felt the warm breath of her quiet sigh on my cheek. “It is.”

I pulled away far enough to turn my head and stare at her. In the darkness, it was a complete waste of effort. “You sure?”

“Yes,” she said. “It was only after you left—after the breeze shifted to the north—that I was sure the scent was coming from the portal and not Dent or something he was carrying.”

I pursed my lips, visualizing the map of the island. North . . .  “So somewhere up in the mountainous part? Maybe tucked away at the edge of a glacier or under a snowpack or something?”

“Those areas are fairly well traveled by the skiers,” she pointed out. “I think it more likely to be in one of the scree fields between here and there.”

“Makes sense,” I agreed. There were at least three major rock fields and five minor ones below Shiroyama’s ski areas, fields that shifted a bit every time a tremor or groundquake ran through the island’s fault lines. “I was wondering how everyone could have missed a big chunk of alien metal sitting out in the open.”

“The last groundquake was eight years ago,” Selene said. “That may have been when the rock shifted enough to make it accessible.”

“Long after the island had been mapped and surveyed,” I said. “If it wasn’t in any of the areas everyone had decided were worth traveling to, no one would ever notice it was there.”

“The question then would be how Dent found it.”

I thought about the picture of the dead man he’d shown us on New Kyiv. “Maybe he had help,” I said. “But that’s a question for another day. Better get some sleep—tomorrow’s likely to start very early.”

“I will. Sleep well, Gregory.”

I made my way back to my own spot and eased tired muscles back onto my blankets. Dent didn’t really strike me as a killer, and there were a dozen perfectly reasonable explanations as to why he’d been carrying a picture of a dead man.

But I’d been wrong about such things before. So far none of those lapses had gotten me killed, but there was always a first time for everything.

And as my father used to say, When in doubt, doubt.


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