FEU: A Date at Delta P (de Havilland)
Posted: Mon Jan 26, 2009 9:34 am
Hello. Sorry about posting here instead of at the alioth bbs but the program I used to post there has expired and havent figured out the Windows version of slrn yet. Maybe someone could copy it there for me?
Anyway, after a bit of a hiatus, here is another installation of the HPA sarrgggaaaa!
---------------------------------
Dev stared at the stark desert stained orb of Reagans Legacy on the viewscreen. They were close enough to watch it grow before them. He relaxed back into the captain’s chair. An easy flight in. A good omen?
The planet stretched, the horizon flattening out across the viewscreen. The northern continent came into view. A small blur of grey and white shone from the surface.
“Traffic control has granted our landing request,” said Veruz from the pilot’s chair. The kid’s voice had lost its humour after Williamsons Base. He hadn’t appreciated being told off. Dev hoped he would get over it quick.
They landed on pad 5, the touchdown barely discernable, if not for the hissing of coolant and the spooling down of the engines. Dev stood and gave Veruz a slap on the back. “Not bad, Michael.” _Not bad at all._
Veruz nodded, eyes averted and strode for the bridge doors.
Dev sighed. Typical teenage angst. Whatever, he’d get over it. Right now, they had a job to do. Of course he'd been telling himself that for a while now. One day his life wouldn’t be about survival. It'd be about living.
Dev followed Veruz down through the ship. The boarding ramp dropped to the landing pad. A dry hot wind rushed into the ship, sapping the moisture from his mouth. He stepped off and stopped, feeling the sun heat his face and arms. Gulls squawked in the distance. He smiled. Yes, he enjoyed flying, but nothing felt better than a yellow sun overhead and brown earth below.
Veruz had already walked ahead. Dev quickened his pace to catch up. A transport blasted off from behind the central starport hub. It passed overhead. Dev looked up, shielding his eyes.
He gasped. His pulse quickened, the lettering on the ship's belly burning into his retinas.
_Fed Mil_ Federal Military.
Dev spun, searching for anything out of the ordinary; a person out of place, the reflection of a sniper scope,, anything to tell him they'd been spotted.
Veruz had stopped by the hub doors. He turned, lips drawn into a tight line. "What's wrong?"
"Fed Mil. They're here."
Veruz frowned, his angry pretense fading "They know we're here?"
Dev's heard pounded in his chest as paranoia flooded his mind. "Let's get inside." They scampered through the hub doors.
Thousands of people milled around the crowded concourse. A blast of conditioned air encapsulated them as they stepped in.
Dev looked for security cameras, but they were too well hidden. He gestured Veruz forward. "Blend in. Let's find a terminal."
Veruz pushed through the crowd, rougher than appropriate for 'blending'. Dev didn't say anything. He had to pay attention to their surroundings. He wanted to be ready for a hidden attack or plain clothes officer.
They made it to a terminal safely and Veruz logged on. He went to the stock listings.
“Ceramics,” Dev whispered.
Veruz scowled but scrolled down the list. He opened the ceramics section. He searched the list but came up empty. He tried again.
“It has to be here somewhere,” said Dev, leaning in closer. “There!” He tapped the screen:
_ZiSCRO2 Ceramic (Condensate) __ T available._
“They’re all gone,” Veruz growled.
Dev swore under his breath. “That can’t be right. Where are they?”
“Veruz turned to Dev, jaw clenched. “Someone got here before we did.”
Dev couldn’t stop himself looking back at the crowd. The back of his mind buzzed, the feeling of being watched tickling like an itch.
But how could anyone know they were here? Dev shrugged it off. They had to continue on. “We’ll have to go to the source itself. Straight to the company which manufactures them. Pull up the details, will you?”
Veruz downloaded the address to a hardcopy. “Now what?”
Dev showed Veruz several of the cred-coins that Norman had given him and smiled. “We have to look the part. It’s time to go shopping.”
#
Dev stepped from the booth and twirled around. The quality of the material left a lot to be desired, but it clung to his frame well. It looked good enough. "What do you think?"
Veruz barely moved a muscle. "Fine. Can we go?"
Dev lan his tongue around his mouth. Veruz's attitude grated, but the constant fear and suspicion was wearing him down too. He'd let it lie. He turned to the salesman. "We'll wear them out, thanks."
The salesman's wide grin never faltered. Dev handed over a coin and they left .
The sun had reached its zenith, beating down on them with an intensity rivaling Alioth. Dev's skin was tightening already. Speeders zipped back and forth overhead, occasional horn blasts interrupting the melody of their engines; lorries lumbered between shops making drop offs. There was enough foot traffic for them to blend with.
Veruz stood at an info terminal. "Jesus, the companies on the other side of the city."
Dev exhaled. He wouldn't have minded the walk, but time was critical. He strode to the nearest taxi beacon. He pressed the button, illuminating a green light atop the twenty metre tall pole. Three overhead cars fell from the sky, seemingly on a collision course. One pulled back, leaving two aiming straight for each other and Dev.
"Ahh. . ." Deep backed away from the curb. The taxis seemed destined for a collision but at the final moment one of them pulled up and away, leaving one car to skid to the curb, burnt rubber wafting from the landing gear. A side door opened and a face leaned over the front seat.
"Where you heading?"
Deep blinked several times, waiting for his heart to slow. "Ahhh, Tolken Industries."
"No kidding, I was there a quarter hour ago. Hop in."
Dev's heart quickened again as foreboding rustled at the edges of his mind. He climbed in, Veruz packing in after him. Dev tried to contain the quiver in his voice. "Another passenger?"
"What?"
"You took a passenger to Tolken?"
"Yeah, just before. I haven’t been to that side of a town for a week, then I get two at a time. Crazy eh?"
"Dev checked for a tail. It couldn't be a coincidence. He fingered the Diplomat in his belt. The cool metal eased his nerves. "Yeah, crazy."
Veruz looked straight ahead, seemingly missing the connection. Dev leant over and whispered, "Keep an eye out."
Veruz nodded, but didn't react otherwise. The driver babbled on about every second building he passed, as if Dev had asked for a tour guide instead of a taxi driver. Thankfully, it was only a ten minute drive to Tolken's headquarters.
The building stood three stories high, modest by Earth or even Alioth standards, but it looked new, clean and seemed to serve its purpose. The only thing that counted was what he found inside, however.
They stepped through the main door under a curtain of cool air, retuning moisture to Dev's skin. He sighed in relief.
The receptionist looked up and smiled from behind her counter. "Welcome to Tolken Industries. May I help you?"
Her attentiveness warmed Dev's heart. She looked caring and interested. A good sign. He had had enough of corrupt companies, that only cared about their under the table incomes. Actually, he was sick of all engineering companies. He thought he had left this life behind?
He leant over the counter. He couldn't use their real names. Not with all the coincidences stacking up since their arrival planetside. "Hello. I'm Dev Sidestep and this is Micky Cross. We represent, ah, Frantic Avionics."
Veruz rolled his eyes. The receptionist's eyes widened in apparent recognition. "Ah, yes, of course."
Dev blanched, but recovered. Did such a company exist, or was she just polite? "Yes and we're looking for some ceramic condensate."
"One moment please." Her pupils disappeared behind a silver sheen and her mouth moved to unspoken words. The sheen disappeared, bringing back her regular green. "Someone will be out to meet you shortly."
Deep blinked away the shock. "Thanks." He sat at a pair of seats with Veruz. The kid didn't respond. Dev shrugged and turned back to the receptionist. She must have had some neural nanite package, like a cut down – and legal – version of Norman's neural lace, good for organizing data, and phone calls. Apparently.
A man in a suit walked down the stairs and shook both their hands. He guided them down a hall. Dev's spirits dropped as they entered another board room –he'd had enough of them recently – but sat down at the table as the suit organized drinks.
"Megan said you were interested in our ceramic condensate range?" The man leant forward, hands clasped together, a classic salesman smile wedged into his face.
"That's right," said Dev. He waved to Veruz. "We're doing some in-house prototyping and heard you were the best in the business."
The salesman chuckled and even went red at the accolade. "We have quite a range. Is there a particular type you were after?"
Dev nodded to Veruz. "Micky?"
Veruz cleared his throat then pulled out his datapad. "Twenty tones of Zinc-Silicon-Cromate."
The salesman's eyes rolled upward for a moment and his lips pursed.
Dev's head drooped. _Oh oh_. Not a good sign.
The salesman exhaled. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we just sold the last of our stock not more than half an hour ago."
Dev's heart sunk. It hadn't been a coincidence. Someone had just bet them here. Someone who knew what it could be used for and who was trying to stop them from getting it. His feet tensed, ready to move; the Diplomat grated against his back. He felt like a mouse in a cage, toyed with by his captors until they lost interest and ended the experiment, permanently.
He forced a calm breath and even struggled to apply a smile. "Ain't that always the way? How long till you have another twenty tonne available?"
The suit consulted his PAD. "All our machines are currently setup for a long production run of another ceramic. I'm afraid it won't be for at least a fortnight."
Dev puckered his lips. "Can you tell us who you sold the condensate to?"
The salesman shrugged. "An independent cargo hauler came and picked it up. It had been arranged earlier through another company." He pulled out a small piece of crystal flimsy – a business card. He turned it around and slid it across the table.
_Melinda White
Research Manager
Ionian Nuclear Research Amalgamated._
Dev jerked as if electrocuted, his fingers digging into the table, feet kicking against the chair.
"You alright?" asked the salesman.
"I'm fine." He wiped the sweat from his brow. He palmed the card and stumbled up out of his seat. “Thank you for your hospitality. We’ll have to try our luck elsewhere.”
The salesman stood and guided them out of the building. “Good luck.”
Once they were out of sight of the building, Dev pulled Veruz into a side street.
“What the hell’s wrong with you cap’n? I thought we were trying not to bring attention to ourselves.”
Dev shoved the card in Veruz’s face.
Veruz’s brow furrowed. “What?”
“Ionian Nuclear Research Amalgamated. Notice anything familiar about the name?”
“No.”
Dev growled. "What's the acronym?"
Veruz just shook his head. "What?"
“The first letters. They spell INRA.”
Veruz's eyes widened but then he snorted. “That's too obvious. INRA would never be that stupid. A secret organization wouldn’t get too far if that's how it kept secrets.”
“Maybe they're trying to make it so obvious that no one would believe it. They’re letting us know that they are watching us, that they’re on our tail. They know the HPA is damaged. They know what we need to fix it, they know who we are. I bet if we checked all the condensate suppliers across the galaxy, we’d find were all sold out.”
“That’s crazy. If they were onto us like that, they would have captured us by now." Veruz peered down the street. "They could be closing the noose right now.”
“Jesus, don’t talk like that, you’re freaking me out. Besides, they couldn’t possibly know which of the suppliers we would go for. They probably just hit them all at once to cover their bases.”
“It’s the closest supplier to Williamsons Base. It won’t take them long to make the connection.”
The realization punched Dev in the stomach, making him sink. He grimaced and grabbed Veruz “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
“Then what?”
“Worry about that later.”
They raced down the street, heading for the distant air control tower. A taxi was too risky – the confined space could be a problem if they were caught. They were better off on foot.
Sweat drained from every pore, but the relentless sun dried it almost instantly. Dev chastised himself. His drill sergeant would be spewing if he could see him now. Dev pushed on, adrenaline numbing his pounding heart.
The starport entrance loomed ahead. They zig zagged through the traffic. They entered the hub to a breath of cool air and a thinning of traffic. Shops lined a narrow walkway which opened into the concourse. Dev sped up, pulling up on Veruz. He didn't bother keeping an eye out. Too late to worry about that now.
“Dev!”
Dev spun, recognising the voice. His eyes widened. He desperately scanned the crowd. And stopped. He skidded to halt. There she was. The woman who had possessed his heart and his mind since she first put a gun to his face all those months ago. “Emu. What are you doing here?”
Veruz screamed behind him, voice ragged. “Come on!”
Emu stepped forward. Dev reciprocated, unsure if he should hug her or not. She wore a mask of cold carbonite, eyes of inanimate crystal.
“Business.” The curt reply slapped in the face. Why was she like this? What had he done wrong? Too much time to reflect, time to become angry?
Dev swallowed to hold back the shiver. “Not in the ceramic condensate business by chance?”
Veruz’s footfalls disappeared behind him. Hopefully the kid would get the ship ready, but Dev still had to hurry. People milled around, oblivious to the standoff, their chatter deafening him to his own quaking heart.
“I’m in the intelligence business,” she said.
Dev frowned. What kind of business— _Shit._ His life crystallized to this single moment of time, dark, still, cold. His breath froze in his chest.
Emu smirked, a smile so tight and vicious it pierced straight through to his heart. “That’s right,” she said, almost as if she were enjoying herself. “We’ve been tracking you, Norman and the _Sunset_ for months. Your illusions of freedom are nothing more than that. We can have you any moment we like. We know everything.”
A tear ran down Dev's cheek. “That’s not true.”
Emu waved her delicate hands through the air. “How do you explain the ambush at Rocky Fields?”
“What?”
“That’s what the media is calling it: The battle of Rocky Fields, where the Federation and Empire nearly destroyed the _Azure Sunset._
Her words rang true in his ears. How had the superpowers known their location? Someone had tracked the _Sunset_. But Emu would have died in the attack if he hadn’t rescued her. She couldn’t have been part of it, could she? And didn’t Maegil have a tie to that Spartacus Brotherhood?
Something didn’t add up.
Emu looked carved from granite, emotionless, immovable, inhuman. “Vasquith de Havilland, you’re under arrest.”
“You’d better arrest me then.”
The surrounding hum and chatter died away, Dev’s conscious focused solely on her. Neither of them moved. Her eyes flickered – just for a second – but enough to give Dev hope.
She was conflicted. Maybe she still cared, maybe she didn't, but he held onto the doubt. “I’m going to run now.”
“And I’m going to chase you.” Her voice hadn't wavered.
“Ok.” He paused. He had to tell her, even if she didn't care anymore, no matter how much it hurt. “You know I love you.”
Then he turned. And he ran.
#
He reached the bridge out of breath. “Take off! Now!”
Veruz was already pulling back on the controls before Dev finished speaking. The large ship groaned, slowly lifting off, struggling against gravity.
“Up up up! Get us out of here. Take us out system.”
Veruz grunted as he fought the ship. He pushed the engines to full burn. A weight momentarily crushed against Dev's chest before the dampeners reestablished.
The ship leveled out and the whine of the engines dropped fractionally.
Veruz looked back to Dev. “What was the bloody holdup?”
“We have a problem.”
“What?”
Dev swallowed. He didn’t want to say it aloud, because that would somehow make it more real. He desperately wanted it to all be a lie.
“What’s the problem?” Veruz's voice rose an octave.
Dev clenched and unclenched his jaw several times until he managed to open his mouth. “Emu’s a mole.”
Veruz spun around completely, dropping the controls and drawing up on Dev. His eyes widened; Dev could see the thoughts racing behind them. Then they narrowed to slits. “You took her back to her home base and she reported to her superiors about everything. Now they know where Frantic’s base is and they know what we’re doing and everything else about us. We’re fucked.”
Dev dropped to the captain’s chair, head in his hands. The guilt streaming out of Veruz bit deep, but it paled in comparison with the betrayal in his heart. “I know.”
Anyway, after a bit of a hiatus, here is another installation of the HPA sarrgggaaaa!
---------------------------------
Dev stared at the stark desert stained orb of Reagans Legacy on the viewscreen. They were close enough to watch it grow before them. He relaxed back into the captain’s chair. An easy flight in. A good omen?
The planet stretched, the horizon flattening out across the viewscreen. The northern continent came into view. A small blur of grey and white shone from the surface.
“Traffic control has granted our landing request,” said Veruz from the pilot’s chair. The kid’s voice had lost its humour after Williamsons Base. He hadn’t appreciated being told off. Dev hoped he would get over it quick.
They landed on pad 5, the touchdown barely discernable, if not for the hissing of coolant and the spooling down of the engines. Dev stood and gave Veruz a slap on the back. “Not bad, Michael.” _Not bad at all._
Veruz nodded, eyes averted and strode for the bridge doors.
Dev sighed. Typical teenage angst. Whatever, he’d get over it. Right now, they had a job to do. Of course he'd been telling himself that for a while now. One day his life wouldn’t be about survival. It'd be about living.
Dev followed Veruz down through the ship. The boarding ramp dropped to the landing pad. A dry hot wind rushed into the ship, sapping the moisture from his mouth. He stepped off and stopped, feeling the sun heat his face and arms. Gulls squawked in the distance. He smiled. Yes, he enjoyed flying, but nothing felt better than a yellow sun overhead and brown earth below.
Veruz had already walked ahead. Dev quickened his pace to catch up. A transport blasted off from behind the central starport hub. It passed overhead. Dev looked up, shielding his eyes.
He gasped. His pulse quickened, the lettering on the ship's belly burning into his retinas.
_Fed Mil_ Federal Military.
Dev spun, searching for anything out of the ordinary; a person out of place, the reflection of a sniper scope,, anything to tell him they'd been spotted.
Veruz had stopped by the hub doors. He turned, lips drawn into a tight line. "What's wrong?"
"Fed Mil. They're here."
Veruz frowned, his angry pretense fading "They know we're here?"
Dev's heard pounded in his chest as paranoia flooded his mind. "Let's get inside." They scampered through the hub doors.
Thousands of people milled around the crowded concourse. A blast of conditioned air encapsulated them as they stepped in.
Dev looked for security cameras, but they were too well hidden. He gestured Veruz forward. "Blend in. Let's find a terminal."
Veruz pushed through the crowd, rougher than appropriate for 'blending'. Dev didn't say anything. He had to pay attention to their surroundings. He wanted to be ready for a hidden attack or plain clothes officer.
They made it to a terminal safely and Veruz logged on. He went to the stock listings.
“Ceramics,” Dev whispered.
Veruz scowled but scrolled down the list. He opened the ceramics section. He searched the list but came up empty. He tried again.
“It has to be here somewhere,” said Dev, leaning in closer. “There!” He tapped the screen:
_ZiSCRO2 Ceramic (Condensate) __ T available._
“They’re all gone,” Veruz growled.
Dev swore under his breath. “That can’t be right. Where are they?”
“Veruz turned to Dev, jaw clenched. “Someone got here before we did.”
Dev couldn’t stop himself looking back at the crowd. The back of his mind buzzed, the feeling of being watched tickling like an itch.
But how could anyone know they were here? Dev shrugged it off. They had to continue on. “We’ll have to go to the source itself. Straight to the company which manufactures them. Pull up the details, will you?”
Veruz downloaded the address to a hardcopy. “Now what?”
Dev showed Veruz several of the cred-coins that Norman had given him and smiled. “We have to look the part. It’s time to go shopping.”
#
Dev stepped from the booth and twirled around. The quality of the material left a lot to be desired, but it clung to his frame well. It looked good enough. "What do you think?"
Veruz barely moved a muscle. "Fine. Can we go?"
Dev lan his tongue around his mouth. Veruz's attitude grated, but the constant fear and suspicion was wearing him down too. He'd let it lie. He turned to the salesman. "We'll wear them out, thanks."
The salesman's wide grin never faltered. Dev handed over a coin and they left .
The sun had reached its zenith, beating down on them with an intensity rivaling Alioth. Dev's skin was tightening already. Speeders zipped back and forth overhead, occasional horn blasts interrupting the melody of their engines; lorries lumbered between shops making drop offs. There was enough foot traffic for them to blend with.
Veruz stood at an info terminal. "Jesus, the companies on the other side of the city."
Dev exhaled. He wouldn't have minded the walk, but time was critical. He strode to the nearest taxi beacon. He pressed the button, illuminating a green light atop the twenty metre tall pole. Three overhead cars fell from the sky, seemingly on a collision course. One pulled back, leaving two aiming straight for each other and Dev.
"Ahh. . ." Deep backed away from the curb. The taxis seemed destined for a collision but at the final moment one of them pulled up and away, leaving one car to skid to the curb, burnt rubber wafting from the landing gear. A side door opened and a face leaned over the front seat.
"Where you heading?"
Deep blinked several times, waiting for his heart to slow. "Ahhh, Tolken Industries."
"No kidding, I was there a quarter hour ago. Hop in."
Dev's heart quickened again as foreboding rustled at the edges of his mind. He climbed in, Veruz packing in after him. Dev tried to contain the quiver in his voice. "Another passenger?"
"What?"
"You took a passenger to Tolken?"
"Yeah, just before. I haven’t been to that side of a town for a week, then I get two at a time. Crazy eh?"
"Dev checked for a tail. It couldn't be a coincidence. He fingered the Diplomat in his belt. The cool metal eased his nerves. "Yeah, crazy."
Veruz looked straight ahead, seemingly missing the connection. Dev leant over and whispered, "Keep an eye out."
Veruz nodded, but didn't react otherwise. The driver babbled on about every second building he passed, as if Dev had asked for a tour guide instead of a taxi driver. Thankfully, it was only a ten minute drive to Tolken's headquarters.
The building stood three stories high, modest by Earth or even Alioth standards, but it looked new, clean and seemed to serve its purpose. The only thing that counted was what he found inside, however.
They stepped through the main door under a curtain of cool air, retuning moisture to Dev's skin. He sighed in relief.
The receptionist looked up and smiled from behind her counter. "Welcome to Tolken Industries. May I help you?"
Her attentiveness warmed Dev's heart. She looked caring and interested. A good sign. He had had enough of corrupt companies, that only cared about their under the table incomes. Actually, he was sick of all engineering companies. He thought he had left this life behind?
He leant over the counter. He couldn't use their real names. Not with all the coincidences stacking up since their arrival planetside. "Hello. I'm Dev Sidestep and this is Micky Cross. We represent, ah, Frantic Avionics."
Veruz rolled his eyes. The receptionist's eyes widened in apparent recognition. "Ah, yes, of course."
Dev blanched, but recovered. Did such a company exist, or was she just polite? "Yes and we're looking for some ceramic condensate."
"One moment please." Her pupils disappeared behind a silver sheen and her mouth moved to unspoken words. The sheen disappeared, bringing back her regular green. "Someone will be out to meet you shortly."
Deep blinked away the shock. "Thanks." He sat at a pair of seats with Veruz. The kid didn't respond. Dev shrugged and turned back to the receptionist. She must have had some neural nanite package, like a cut down – and legal – version of Norman's neural lace, good for organizing data, and phone calls. Apparently.
A man in a suit walked down the stairs and shook both their hands. He guided them down a hall. Dev's spirits dropped as they entered another board room –he'd had enough of them recently – but sat down at the table as the suit organized drinks.
"Megan said you were interested in our ceramic condensate range?" The man leant forward, hands clasped together, a classic salesman smile wedged into his face.
"That's right," said Dev. He waved to Veruz. "We're doing some in-house prototyping and heard you were the best in the business."
The salesman chuckled and even went red at the accolade. "We have quite a range. Is there a particular type you were after?"
Dev nodded to Veruz. "Micky?"
Veruz cleared his throat then pulled out his datapad. "Twenty tones of Zinc-Silicon-Cromate."
The salesman's eyes rolled upward for a moment and his lips pursed.
Dev's head drooped. _Oh oh_. Not a good sign.
The salesman exhaled. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we just sold the last of our stock not more than half an hour ago."
Dev's heart sunk. It hadn't been a coincidence. Someone had just bet them here. Someone who knew what it could be used for and who was trying to stop them from getting it. His feet tensed, ready to move; the Diplomat grated against his back. He felt like a mouse in a cage, toyed with by his captors until they lost interest and ended the experiment, permanently.
He forced a calm breath and even struggled to apply a smile. "Ain't that always the way? How long till you have another twenty tonne available?"
The suit consulted his PAD. "All our machines are currently setup for a long production run of another ceramic. I'm afraid it won't be for at least a fortnight."
Dev puckered his lips. "Can you tell us who you sold the condensate to?"
The salesman shrugged. "An independent cargo hauler came and picked it up. It had been arranged earlier through another company." He pulled out a small piece of crystal flimsy – a business card. He turned it around and slid it across the table.
_Melinda White
Research Manager
Ionian Nuclear Research Amalgamated._
Dev jerked as if electrocuted, his fingers digging into the table, feet kicking against the chair.
"You alright?" asked the salesman.
"I'm fine." He wiped the sweat from his brow. He palmed the card and stumbled up out of his seat. “Thank you for your hospitality. We’ll have to try our luck elsewhere.”
The salesman stood and guided them out of the building. “Good luck.”
Once they were out of sight of the building, Dev pulled Veruz into a side street.
“What the hell’s wrong with you cap’n? I thought we were trying not to bring attention to ourselves.”
Dev shoved the card in Veruz’s face.
Veruz’s brow furrowed. “What?”
“Ionian Nuclear Research Amalgamated. Notice anything familiar about the name?”
“No.”
Dev growled. "What's the acronym?"
Veruz just shook his head. "What?"
“The first letters. They spell INRA.”
Veruz's eyes widened but then he snorted. “That's too obvious. INRA would never be that stupid. A secret organization wouldn’t get too far if that's how it kept secrets.”
“Maybe they're trying to make it so obvious that no one would believe it. They’re letting us know that they are watching us, that they’re on our tail. They know the HPA is damaged. They know what we need to fix it, they know who we are. I bet if we checked all the condensate suppliers across the galaxy, we’d find were all sold out.”
“That’s crazy. If they were onto us like that, they would have captured us by now." Veruz peered down the street. "They could be closing the noose right now.”
“Jesus, don’t talk like that, you’re freaking me out. Besides, they couldn’t possibly know which of the suppliers we would go for. They probably just hit them all at once to cover their bases.”
“It’s the closest supplier to Williamsons Base. It won’t take them long to make the connection.”
The realization punched Dev in the stomach, making him sink. He grimaced and grabbed Veruz “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
“Then what?”
“Worry about that later.”
They raced down the street, heading for the distant air control tower. A taxi was too risky – the confined space could be a problem if they were caught. They were better off on foot.
Sweat drained from every pore, but the relentless sun dried it almost instantly. Dev chastised himself. His drill sergeant would be spewing if he could see him now. Dev pushed on, adrenaline numbing his pounding heart.
The starport entrance loomed ahead. They zig zagged through the traffic. They entered the hub to a breath of cool air and a thinning of traffic. Shops lined a narrow walkway which opened into the concourse. Dev sped up, pulling up on Veruz. He didn't bother keeping an eye out. Too late to worry about that now.
“Dev!”
Dev spun, recognising the voice. His eyes widened. He desperately scanned the crowd. And stopped. He skidded to halt. There she was. The woman who had possessed his heart and his mind since she first put a gun to his face all those months ago. “Emu. What are you doing here?”
Veruz screamed behind him, voice ragged. “Come on!”
Emu stepped forward. Dev reciprocated, unsure if he should hug her or not. She wore a mask of cold carbonite, eyes of inanimate crystal.
“Business.” The curt reply slapped in the face. Why was she like this? What had he done wrong? Too much time to reflect, time to become angry?
Dev swallowed to hold back the shiver. “Not in the ceramic condensate business by chance?”
Veruz’s footfalls disappeared behind him. Hopefully the kid would get the ship ready, but Dev still had to hurry. People milled around, oblivious to the standoff, their chatter deafening him to his own quaking heart.
“I’m in the intelligence business,” she said.
Dev frowned. What kind of business— _Shit._ His life crystallized to this single moment of time, dark, still, cold. His breath froze in his chest.
Emu smirked, a smile so tight and vicious it pierced straight through to his heart. “That’s right,” she said, almost as if she were enjoying herself. “We’ve been tracking you, Norman and the _Sunset_ for months. Your illusions of freedom are nothing more than that. We can have you any moment we like. We know everything.”
A tear ran down Dev's cheek. “That’s not true.”
Emu waved her delicate hands through the air. “How do you explain the ambush at Rocky Fields?”
“What?”
“That’s what the media is calling it: The battle of Rocky Fields, where the Federation and Empire nearly destroyed the _Azure Sunset._
Her words rang true in his ears. How had the superpowers known their location? Someone had tracked the _Sunset_. But Emu would have died in the attack if he hadn’t rescued her. She couldn’t have been part of it, could she? And didn’t Maegil have a tie to that Spartacus Brotherhood?
Something didn’t add up.
Emu looked carved from granite, emotionless, immovable, inhuman. “Vasquith de Havilland, you’re under arrest.”
“You’d better arrest me then.”
The surrounding hum and chatter died away, Dev’s conscious focused solely on her. Neither of them moved. Her eyes flickered – just for a second – but enough to give Dev hope.
She was conflicted. Maybe she still cared, maybe she didn't, but he held onto the doubt. “I’m going to run now.”
“And I’m going to chase you.” Her voice hadn't wavered.
“Ok.” He paused. He had to tell her, even if she didn't care anymore, no matter how much it hurt. “You know I love you.”
Then he turned. And he ran.
#
He reached the bridge out of breath. “Take off! Now!”
Veruz was already pulling back on the controls before Dev finished speaking. The large ship groaned, slowly lifting off, struggling against gravity.
“Up up up! Get us out of here. Take us out system.”
Veruz grunted as he fought the ship. He pushed the engines to full burn. A weight momentarily crushed against Dev's chest before the dampeners reestablished.
The ship leveled out and the whine of the engines dropped fractionally.
Veruz looked back to Dev. “What was the bloody holdup?”
“We have a problem.”
“What?”
Dev swallowed. He didn’t want to say it aloud, because that would somehow make it more real. He desperately wanted it to all be a lie.
“What’s the problem?” Veruz's voice rose an octave.
Dev clenched and unclenched his jaw several times until he managed to open his mouth. “Emu’s a mole.”
Veruz spun around completely, dropping the controls and drawing up on Dev. His eyes widened; Dev could see the thoughts racing behind them. Then they narrowed to slits. “You took her back to her home base and she reported to her superiors about everything. Now they know where Frantic’s base is and they know what we’re doing and everything else about us. We’re fucked.”
Dev dropped to the captain’s chair, head in his hands. The guilt streaming out of Veruz bit deep, but it paled in comparison with the betrayal in his heart. “I know.”