“I thought you’d like it. But, Tiger, remember, you really can’t tell anyone afterward. These people can’t be messed around.”
“I know that. I ain’t that stupid.”
“I know you’re not. Take care.”
“You going?”
“Yeah. There’s only one thing I want now, and it’s not here.”
“Well, I hope you find it.”
“Me, too.”
Nobody around the Raiel really noticed as she walked away. The last thing she wanted was to run over to Morton after what had happened, so she went toward a door on the opposite side of the lecture theater. Hoshe was sitting on one of the remaining audience chairs, suspiciously close to the door.
Mellanie gave him a fond smile, and sat beside him. Without warning, she darted forward and gave him a kiss.
“What was that for?” he asked.
“Hoshe Finn, my very own guardian angel.”
“I didn’t think you were speaking to me after Isabella.”
“Humm, your halo did dim there for a minute. But once again you made sure no harm came to me.”
Hoshe glanced down at the two aliens who were now talking together. Dudley Bose was standing beside the Bose motile, trying to steer the conversation his way.
“One of your smarter moves,” Hoshe said. “You can do a lot better than him.”
She glanced at the trio of armor suits. “I thought you said you were married.”
Hoshe grinned. “I guess I deserved that. Shouldn’t pry into your private life.”
“There’s nothing much private about it. That’s my biggest problem. What about you? What are you doing here?”
“I need to talk to Nelson. I have a favor to ask.”
“What’s that?”
“I need to get some people off Boongate. A Senate Security team was following a suspected Starflyer agent and got stuck there. My fault.”
“I doubt it. Do you want me to talk to Nigel about it? He has the final say on that.”
Hoshe gave her a surprised look. “You can do that?”
“For you, of course.”
“Might be worth it.” He didn’t sound very certain.
“Just say the word. I owe you.”
“No you don’t.”
“A month’s unisphere access, and a week at a B and B if I remember rightly. There’s a lot of interest piling up in that account, Hoshe Finn.”
“Another time, another universe.”
“I’d still like to repay you.”
“I’m not sure it’s worth it. Look, this is just about over now. Sheldon will destroy the Prime homeworld; Paula and the Guardians will track down and eliminate the Starflyer. Everybody needs to start thinking what they’re going to do after the war, because life is going to be a whole lot sweeter then. After what we’ve all been through, it can’t be anything else.”
“God, I hadn’t even thought about afterward. I’ve been so scared since Randtown. Trying to keep one step ahead takes up every moment.”
“You’re a damn good reporter. I bet you wind up with your own show.”
“That’d be nice,” she said, and it was a comfy thought, the kind she had before the ships flew down out of a clean Randtown sky, and her world turned upside down. Again. “I could do with something that’s going to last.”
“Well, there you go then.”
“There’s just one thing I’ve got to do first.”
Hoshe gave a mock-groan. “What?”
“I’m going to cover Alessandra Baron’s arrest. I want to see her led away in chains. I want to show the entire Commonwealth that most beautiful sight.”
“They don’t manacle people anymore. Besides, if she’s a Starflyer agent it’s likely to get violent.”
“Here’s hoping,” Mellanie muttered with a wicked smirk. “Who’s going to be the arresting officer?”
“Hasn’t been assigned yet,” Hoshe said, with an eye on Nelson and the Raiel.
“But you could put in for it, couldn’t you? You could do that while I speak to Nigel. How about that? A trade, not a repayment.”
“Done.”
***
The maglev express was almost empty. After all, who in their right mind would travel to Wessex right now?
Alic walked out of the first-class carriage onto the nearly deserted platform in the Narrabri station’s Oxsorrol terminal. The three cases carrying his armor suit and weapons followed loyally a few meters behind. Vic Russell was close on his heels, eager to get going. Matthew Oldfield, John King, and Jim Nwan formed a rearguard group, trying to keep their conversation lighthearted. It wasn’t going well, every movement agitated some injury sustained on Illuminatus. Alic knew they shouldn’t be going into combat again so soon, but this mission overrode any kind of by-the-book protocol. Besides, he kept telling himself, there were five of them, and they’d raided the Paris office armory for some serious heavy-caliber hardware. There would be no repeat of Treetops no matter what Tarlo was equipped with this time.
Two men were waiting for them on the platform outside their carriage. One of them was in a navy captain’s uniform. Alic recognized him immediately. “Captain Monroe?”
“Pleased to meet you. Daniel Alster here is our liaison with CST for this operation, and we have some very good news for you.”
“We can go?” Vic demanded.
“Yes,” Oscar said.
“All right!” Vic high-fived with John King.
“We have some transport for you gentlemen.” Daniel gestured at a big Ford ten-seater Holan parked on the side of the platform. “It’ll take us over to the station’s track engineering facility.”
“What’s there?” Vic asked.
“A train that will take you through the wormhole.”
“How long before we go through?”
“Once you’re suited up, we can take you straight to the gateway,” Daniel said, unperturbed by the big man’s attitude.
“Thank you,” Alic said before Vic could make a scene. He was already regretting agreeing to the big man coming on the mission. Even if they were successful in engaging Tarlo he wasn’t sure they could get him into the cage they’d brought.
“You should know the gateway will only be opening once,” Oscar said. “After you’re through, you will be evacuating into the future with the rest of the population.”
“We accept that,” Alic said. He wondered if he should give Vic another chance to withdraw. Once the mission was over, the big man would be separated from Gwyneth for a long time.
The Ford drove them to one of the eight long sheds that housed CST’s Wessex track engineering division. A single gentian-blue carriage was waiting for them, which looked like it had been in service for a century at least. There was a tiny cabin at the front, with five rows of bench seats giving the track crew a view through grimy windows. Three-quarters of the spartan metal-panel interior was simply storage space for bots and equipment. Long doors at the rear had their own lift platforms, which were folded up against the sides.
“It’s not fast,” Alster said as they climbed up the ladders to the cabin. “But it is reliable, and it can get you there easily enough. The drive array has modern software; traffic control can take you straight across the station yard to the gateway. I’ll be in the control center myself to supervise the opening.”
“Thanks,” Alic told him. The rest of the team was climbing up to see what they’d got.
“Your cases can come up on the door elevators,” Alster told them. “If you’d like to get suited up now, we can begin.”
“Keep a communications link open to me from now on,” Oscar said.
“Will do,” Alic said. “And thank Nigel Sheldon for the opportunity. It means a lot to us.”
“I know.” Oscar backed out of the door, and went down the short ladder to the ground.