As he said these words, he turned and fixed Corso with a steady gaze.
He’s here because of me, thought Corso with a start. He could see Sal still hovering on the edge of the circle, wanting to run over and help his wounded friend, but unable or unwilling to risk taking on Bull.
‘No.’ Northcutt was shivering violently now, his neck muscles outlined like steel cables under his skin. He moved towards Mansell. ‘I don’t give a fuck who you are. This is a challenge. You wouldn’t be where you are now if you hadn’t killed the right people. That’s how we do things, right? There’s precedent. You enter somebody else’s challenge, that makes you fair game.’
‘Go home, Northcutt.’ Mansell sounded bored. ‘You’re not fit to talk.’
Corso felt a wash of dizziness pass through him. Northcutt was holding his blade out threateningly towards Mansell.
‘I’ve never lost a challenge yet,’ Bull snarled, moving closer to Mansell, who remained stock-still. ‘And I won’t start now.’
What happened next, happened fast.
Bull pushed himself forward in a series of motions that appeared almost ballet-like to Corso. Then it was over so quickly it took him long seconds to understand what had in fact happened.
Mansell turned a little to the side so that, as Northcutt moved in fast for a stabbing blow, the other man appeared to embrace Northcutt around the shoulders, as easily as if Northcutt were a life-size rag doll being tossed towards him.
Corso heard a pitiless crack and it was over. Mansell lowered Northcutt’s suddenly lifeless body to the ice, the latter’s head lolling at a sickening angle.
Corso glanced over at Northcutt’s crew, still scattered around the perimeter of the combat circle. Some of them looked like they were thinking of using their weapons in retaliation. Mansell’s men dropped their own guns off their shoulders, and for a moment Corso thought things might end in a bloodbath.
‘Stop right there,’ said Mansell, addressing Northcutt’s followers. ‘The challenge is now over. He took me on and I won fair and square. Any of you care to disagree with that?’
A pair of hands began to pull Corso upright. He turned and realized it was Sal. Corso draped one arm over his friend’s neck and together they staggered out of the circle.
It’s really over, Corso realized, and I’m still alive.
Sal, with the help of one of Mansell’s soldiers, carried him over and heaved him up into the back of one of the ‘copters. Corso stared up at the rotating blades above his head, feeling curiously calm as other faces moved above him, their silhouettes blocking out the stars.
Another soldier bent over Corso and touched the side of his bare neck with something icy. A few moments later the ice spread through his thoughts, numbing him. Corso grinned, and started to laugh. Mansell meanwhile pulled himself inside the same ‘copter just as it began to lift from the ground, leaving Sal behind them.
Corso looked down and saw the same hopeless look still on his friend’s face, as the shoreline dwindled with distance.
The next thing he knew, he was strapped into a webbed seat in the rear cabin of the ‘copter, staring up at the aircraft’s ribbed steel interior. Some internal clock told him hours had passed meanwhile.
‘Feeling better?’ Mansell was eyeing him intently.
‘I don’t know. Maybe.’ Corso’s clothing had been cut away around his heavily bandaged wounds. ‘I need to get back,’ he muttered weakly. ‘My family…’
‘Your family are fine, for now,’ Mansell reassured him. ‘But that’s one of the things we need to talk about.’
‘I really didn’t think…’ Corso trailed off, staring at Mansell.
‘Really didn’t think you’d still be alive?’ he finished for him, a sour grin flickering across his curiously square features. ‘If I hadn’t turned up, you wouldn’t be. Bull Northcutt was one of the best fighters in the Freehold before he turned into a liability.’
Corso shook his head. ‘I don’t understand any of this. Where are we going?’
‘Tell me,’ Mansell asked as if by way of reply, ‘what do you think our chances are of winning this war with the Uchidans?’
Corso felt his stomach tighten. ‘Why do you care what I think?’
‘Speak freely. I’m being serious,’ Mansell reassured him, noting his disbelieving expression. ‘It’s one of the reasons you’re still alive.’
‘In that case, perhaps you ought to speak to my father, Senator Corso. Assuming your boss drops those false charges against him.’
‘Unfortunately, your father doesn’t share your particular area of expertise.’
Corso opened and closed his mouth. ‘Excuse me?’
‘You’re a scholar, not a fighter,’ Mansell continued. ‘Not hard to tell from that shambles of a fight back there. You’re a specialist in alien programming languages.’
Corso squinted at the man, now completely confused.
‘Shoal communications protocols,’ Mansell prompted. ‘Correct?’
Corso nodded dumbly. His area of expertise was ancient alien languages, going back possibly hundreds of thousands of years: part of the constant human effort to pick apart the available knowledge base of the Shoal Hegemony, trying to find the magic key that might open a world of infinite knowledge and power.
No one had ever come close to succeeding, however. Corso had merely expected a quiet life working away at the University with the help of a Consortium grant.
‘Senator Arbenz is going to ask you to do something that will very likely affect the entire future of the Freehold, and you’re going to say yes to him, because “no” isn’t an option. Do this for us, and all the current charges against your father will be dropped, nor will the rest of your family be forced into indentured labour. You have my word on this, and the Senator’s word, too.’
‘And if I say no?’
Mansell’s smile showed all his teeth. Corso looked away from him, feeling a deep chill settle around his heart that had nothing to do with the frozen air surrounding the helicopter.
‘You’re going to help secure an absolute victory for the Freehold over the Uchidans and rid them from Redstone for ever,’ Mansell continued. ‘But we don’t have much time. You’re being taken off-world, first to the Sol System, then to another location. We have been given command of a frigate called the Hyperion, for this express purpose, and we’ll be rendezvousing with it in less than twenty-four hours.’
Corso struggled to take all this in, and his fit of shivers was not entirely due to the lack of heat in the tiny cabin. ‘You’re serious, aren’t you? And this has something to do with my research? We’re talking some pretty obscure academic material there, you know.’