At least the hood disguise had been doing its job. None of the others had noticed so far, although he thought he’d seen Dax cast a couple of knowing and sympathetic looks his way.
“We can get there in three jumps,” Dax said. “Not too bad. Shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours, allowing time for the drive to cycle up in between.”
Jeth didn’t comment. He gently rested his aching head against the back of the chair, settling in for the trip. He briefly considered joining Lizzie, Celeste, Flynn, and Shady down on the commons deck, but decided against it. Being up here would be boring, but he didn’t want to spend a lot of time with the crew right now. Their presence only underlined the reality of the future he faced.
The journey to Benfold Minor went smoothly, each metaspace jump normal and effortless. The Citation’s metadrive was in good shape, it seemed.
“Okay, Jeth,” Dax said as they began their approach, “as soon as the Moenia spaceport opens a line with us, run the trace program I showed you so we can figure out where Avalon is docked.”
Jeth nodded, silently hoping that Avalon was still docked. If any of Sierra’s story about having a contact with a metadrive was true, it was possible they’d gotten Avalon fixed and were gone by now. Olympia Seven wasn’t too far from here by the metagate route.
A short while later, Jeth joined his crew in the common room, along with Dax and Sergei. Jeth felt better than he had in days. Avalon was there, docked less than a kilometer away. They hadn’t been able to get a life signs read on the ship due to the type of security system in the spaceport, but so far he was hopeful Milton was still there.
Dax opened a hidden panel on the wall next to the view screen and started pulling out firearms, which he handed to Jeth and the others. Jeth took his without hesitation. Independent planets could be rough. Moenia, unlike a Confederation-aligned spaceport, didn’t have any restrictions on civilian firearms.
Dax flashed a look at Lizzie, whom he’d given a small but absurdly powerful M.U.L.E. 32. “Do you know how to work that, little miss?”
Lizzie rolled her eyes as she ejected the clip, checked the ammunition, reinserted it, and racked the slide.
Dax grinned. “I guess you’ll do fine.”
Jeth almost smiled, too. He didn’t find Dax as intimidating as most of the Brethren. Mostly because he seemed so normal and decent. Jeth wondered why a guy like him would’ve joined the Brethren. Hammer said he only took those willing, after all. For some reason, Jeth gave Dax more credit than that.
Dax faced the others. “Everybody under age, which means all of you besides Serge, pick out a shoulder holster and get it adjusted. Make sure you keep your jackets on and don’t draw any attention to the fact that you’re carrying. Minors aren’t allowed sidearms here. Got it?”
“We’re not dumb,” Shady said, grabbing a holster out of the compartment.
Sergei shot him a glare. “Watch your mouth.”
Dax patted Sergei on the shoulder. “Take it easy now. Hammer has me running this show, and I don’t mind the kid’s mouth.”
Sergei grunted in a way that told Jeth two things. First, that what Dax said was true—he was running the show. And second, that Sergei wasn’t happy about the arrangement.
“So, what’s the plan?” said Flynn.
“Recon first.” Dax walked over to the conference table and pulled up a three-dimensional map of Moenia City spaceport. “We’re here, and Avalon is docked there.” The places flashed on the screen as Dax touched them. “We’ll fan out and observe for a while, see who’s coming on and off. Then we’ll make our move.”
“Why not just go in there and take them?” Shady said, holding his gun aloft.
“Because Hammer doesn’t want to draw any attention to our presence,” said Dax. “Being a part of his organization is a death sentence on this planet.” Dax reached up and pulled out his implant with a wet, sucking sound that made Jeth’s stomach roil. “And they mean it. All the cops here carry weapons designed to disrupt the implant technology.” Across from him, Sergei removed his implant, too, both stowing them in their pockets.
Looking even more likable minus the implant, Dax swept them all with a hard gaze. “So none of you better even look sideways at someone without a go ahead from me. Yeah?”
A mutinous expression crossed Shady’s face, and his skin darkened to red. Jeth held his breath, waiting for Shady to do something stupid. He had a real problem with adult authority figures.
But then Shady nodded once and glanced away, muttering under his breath.
“Okay.” Dax clapped his hands, grinning. “Let me figure out where I want each of you and then we’ll get going.”
They left the Citation at intervals, everyone heading in different directions, except for Lizzie and Jeth, whom Dax had said should stick together. Dax might’ve been convinced Lizzie could handle a gun, but thirteen was a little young to run around a roughneck spaceport alone.
Jeth headed out of the docking bay and into the east wing of the spaceport. He wove his way through the throng of people walking here and there, heading for the shops and restaurants in the atrium or to some other wing.
Moenia City spaceport was an open, airy place, the feel exaggerated by the large glass windows letting in late afternoon sunshine. It had been a long time since Jeth had been planetside, and it took him a few minutes to adjust to the slight but still noticeable difference in gravity. The artificial gravity used in space sometimes felt just like that—artificial; its hold on you not as certain as the pull of a planet’s gravity, like a collar you could slip and then float away if you tried hard enough.
Jeth wished he could go outside and breathe in the natural air, free from the constant recycling and chemical treatment of the air in space, but there wouldn’t be time for that. As a compromise, Jeth stopped in front of a nearby window for a few moments and watched Benfold Minor’s two suns slipping beneath the horizon, leaving behind pale swirls of pink, purple, and gold in their slow decent.
He wondered if he could bear working for Hammer for the rest of his life if it was somewhere like this, a place where beautiful things happened every day, if only for a short stretch of time. Or maybe he could be a tracker like Dax. He knew that Dax spent a lot of time away from Peltraz. If Jeth didn’t have to see Hammer very often, he could at least pretend he was free.
Sighing, Jeth turned away from the window. He scanned the crowd as he moved on, hoping to spot Sierra. He’d imagined a hundred horrible things he would do to exact his revenge when he saw her. If she hadn’t double-crossed him, he might’ve escaped such a bleak future.
Ahead of him, Lizzie had pulled off to one side near a sign for Docking Bay D. Avalon was moored somewhere down that corridor, at Dock 11. Unlike a Confederation-aligned spaceport, the public were allowed into the bays, even if they didn’t belong to one of the ships docked there. But Dax had ordered Lizzie and Jeth to stay outside of the bay and watch for their targets.
Lizzie sat down against a wall across from the entrance to the bay, folded her knees against her chest, and pretended to read. Jeth spotted an open bench not far from her and sat down. Dozens of people passed by, but none of them turned down the corridor to Docking Bay D. His impatience rose with each passing second.
When more than an hour went by with no sign of Vince or Sierra and no word from the others, Jeth finally gave into his restlessness. He glanced at Lizzie. She’d long given up the pretense of reading and was leaning against the wall, hands jammed into the front pockets of her pants. He stood and walked over to her.