Then he thought, Think. 'I'm not sure, gatita, but I'm willing to bet the guys we saw in the space suits weren't crew. These guys were. And Gal-Three just got boarded by unfriendlies. And if the legit repair crew were wearing security bracelets, those… murderers are wearing them now. I think that we'd better tell Marmion so she can alert that Commander dude.’
‘You're right, Diego. That's what we'd better do real fast.’
‘There should be an alarm right here someplace…' he said, crossing to the far wall. But where the alarm activation mechanism had been was a large hole. He turned to look for the comunit, but the screen was blank, the buttons dark.
‘We'll have to locate a working unit,' he told Bunny.
‘Wait. Maybe - shouldn't we do something to the shuttle, maybe? Disable it? So they can't get away with this?' She sounded angry now, which put more colour in her face.
‘Buns, gatita,' Diego said, throwing up his arms in a dramatic gesture,' they're on a shipping deck. There's plenty of other vehicles here they could use. We've just got to keep them from breaching the security of other levels. Or whatever they're on this station to do. You coming?’
‘Sure,' she said, but the hatch refused to reopen.
‘The last time I saw them, they were watching the collies bring in a derelict,' Millard told Marmion.
‘Yes,' Sally said. 'That's right but they were told they'd have to wait for Charmion and Bailey.’
‘Right,' Yana said in a droll tone of voice. 'And kids always do as they're told, don't they? Look, never mind. They're my responsibility. Just tell me how to get to the repair bay.’
‘I'll show you, Yana,' Marmion said. 'I'm sure they're fine. Sally, go put in a page for them, will you, dear? And Millard, if you would let Faber and the others know to meet us in my salon in three-quarters of an hour, that would expedite matters considerably.’
Millard looked dubious and started to say something but just then Macci strode up to them, looking less languid than Yana had ever seen him before. He visibly relaxed when he saw her, as if he'd been searching for her and her alone.
‘Macci, dear, I don't suppose you've seen the youngsters, Diego and Bunny, around anywhere, have you?' Marmie asked.
‘As a matter of fact, I have, entering Bay 16.’
‘Which one would that be?' Marmie asked.
‘It would be my pleasure to escort you there.’
Millard still looked anxious but Marmion waved him away with, 'How considerate of you, Macci, but then you always are and you're the perfect escort. Millard, you can then go ahead and get the meeting arranged for me, will you? Thanks.’
Yana was treated to a view of Macci's splendid back and the smiles of encouragement which he tossed over his shoulder as he led them down the corridors. They passed a number of people in the first few levels of their descent. On reaching the docking area, Macci led them on a twisting turning route until they found themselves in a long silvery tunnel, the kind of passage that always reminded Yana of being in the guts of a large worm. At the far end of the tunnel, several figures approached clad in white helmeted suits of the type one wore for making ship's repairs or effecting an exterior ship to station link.
‘Now, there hasn't been a leak anywhere, has there?' Marmion asked, surprised.
‘Oh, we'd've been denied access to this area if there was, but I'll just check it out, ladies,' Macci said and sprinted athletically towards the men. Marmie and Yana increased their strides so they were not far behind him.
Yana and Marmion could hear him speaking, though not what he said. Then suddenly, he crumpled to the floor. The men stepped over him, blocking him from the women's view. The leading figure now held a weapon, which was pointed at Marmie and Yana. Instantly Yana flung herself into Marmie, knocking her to the floor. She heard no projectile zinging towards them, no snake's-strike hiss of laser, only a sort of slow whine. She looked up, her nose filling with a sweet perfumey fragrance. A pink cloud blossomed between her and the men, obscuring them and enveloping her and Marmie.
‘Shit,' she said, remembering to hold her breath and wondering what she could do to stop being gassed again. That's when she remembered the alarm Marmion had given her. She got her fingers to the buttons and pressed what she hoped would be the right ones before she lost consciousness. Her last thought was: Not some kind of fraggin' gas again.
Kilcoole
Sinead didn't worry about making her 'guests' comfortable.
‘They can bed down with the dogs,' she told Aisling. 'Maybe if they become acquainted with some animals they'll acquire a little more respect for them.’
‘Now, alannah,' Aisling's soft reproof carried out of the blanket chest from which she was busily flinging bright woolly throws onto the bed. 'They're off-worlders and freeze-up has begun. Even if they were poachin', sure it won't look good if they freeze to death their first night here. What are you cookin'?' Aisling was always suspicious when Sinead cooked. Whereas Aisling Senungatuck was a very good cook, Sinead's repertoire was limited to spitted small game over a campfire. And then she was likely to get it half done, if she was too hungry, or incinerate it if she became preoccupied.
‘Fox,' she said.
‘Fox?’
‘They killed it, they're gonna eat it.’
‘But nobody eats fox,' Aisling said.
‘Not as a rule. But they don't need to know that.’
‘At least let me add a few spices.’
‘Not a one,' Sinead said with an evil grin.
‘Well, take them out a few of these blankets. They'll need 'em.’
‘What? With all those warm pooches around? Nah, I don't think so.’
‘Sinead…' Aisling let her voice take on the tone her partner would recognize as signalling impending doom.
‘Oh, all right. But you worked so hard making those pretty blankets and they're gonna end up smelling of dog.’
‘Then you can help me wash them later. Call those men in to eat now.’
‘No, we'll eat out front.’
'Sinead.'
‘There's not enough room in here, Aisling. Come on out and join us. You can give the fox-killer advice on how to sew up the pelt so it won't show the holes he made skinnin' it.’
The next morning, before first light, Liam Maloney and Seamus arrived to a howled greeting from the dog team. The clamour from the dogs woke their guests, who rose painfully, stretching stiff joints and complaining of the cold. Dr Ersol was scratching.
‘If I turn out to be allergic to fleas, madame, I'll have you before the Company Court,' he told Sinead.
‘There aren't any fleas on Petaybee,' Aisling told him. 'Too cold. But if there were, you could've as easily got them from the fox, so don't go blaming the dogs. Sinead takes better care of them than she does of herself sometimes.’
‘We won't be after botherin' the dogs this mornin' though,' Sinead said in the broad brogue she put on with outworlders who annoyed her. 'No snow for them, y'see. No, Mister Maloney here and Mister Rourke and me will be takin' the curlies. I'm afraid you fine gentlemen will need to walk.' She eyed the three men Liam and Seamus had brought with them. She was not impressed despite all the fine equipment and special clothing they were sporting.
Seamus looked at her as if she was daft. To the men he said, more jovially than anyone had addressed them since they'd arrived on Petaybee, 'Ah, that girl missed her callin', sure she did. She shoulda been a general in the Company Corps, she's that hard.’