"Julia?" Jason Whitehurst asked.
"Still here, Jason. Tell him what you know, it doesn't make any difference. My team will get Fielder, and I don't want you hurt."
"Julia, my dear, Fabian isn't my son, he's my clone, gene-tailored. A sort of an improved version, really. Bit vain, I suppose, but then that's human nature for you. Please look after him for me, there's a dear." He smiled at Leol Reiger. "Lost all round, old chap. Your sort always do."
"You shit," Leol Reiger bellowed.
"Don't," Julia said.
Leol Reiger fired his rip gun. The muzzle was less than a metre away from Jason Whitehurst.
"I shall remember you, Leol Reiger," Julia said. "Do you hear me?"
Leol Reiger blew the last two flatscreens to shards. "Come on, out. I want every cabin searched. Fielder will've gone to ground after all this shooting." He led his squad out of the study.
The subroutine assigned to monitor Nia Korovilla reported that she had entered the MHD chamber.
Tekmerc squad inter-suit radio communication.
Julia: "Don't think you can walk out on me, Leol Reiger. Life is not that simple, believe me."
Leol Reiger: "Christ Almighty."
Julia: "Jason Whitehurst was a friend and business colleague."
Leol Reiger: "Piss off, bitch."
Tekmerc eight, female: "How can she plug into our communications like this?"
Julia: "Five million Eurofrancs for the one who kills Leol Reiger."
Leol Reiger: "You're dead, Evans. That's the only way out now. You and me, head on. The rest of you, get into these cabins. And if any of you are thinking of taking her up on that offer, you'd better make sure you get me with one shot. You're dead otherwise."
Tekmerc five: "Hey, come on, get real, Leol. No one's gonna loose off at you."
The 'ware in the redundant MHD chamber was a confusing mess to unravel—a couple of ordinary terminals with custombuilt augmentation modules, music deck, VR gamer gear—and all of it plugged together by a nonstandard web of fibre-optic cable. Julia recognized old hotrod-style programs protecting some of the 'ware cores. It took time to melt through and initiate her own command procedures.
The first coherent input she received was from the cameras. Charlotte Fielder dressed in a white cotton top and shorts being held in an armlock by Nia Korovilla. Julia watched as Nia Korovilla broke two of her fingers. Charlotte's mouth opened in a scream of pain. Unheard; Julia couldn't find the microphone circuits. Fabian Whitehurst was charging at the two women.
Julia turned all of the lightware cruncher's spare capacity to interpreting the den's 'ware. She ordered one camera to zoom in on Nia Korovilla's face; her pupils were dilated; her grip on Fielder looked effortless. The woman was taking some kind of narcotic. Memory correlation assigned the highest probability to cleardust. Korovilla would be quite capable of killing Fabian Whitehurst and Charlotte Fielder with her bare hands.
Charlotte Fielder shoved Fabian Whitehurst away. He stumbled back, swaying for balance.
The den's circuits were defined, operational codes pulled out of the 'ware cores. Julia turned on the mikes, the flatscreens, the music deck speakers.
"Oh God no," Charlotte Fielder cried.
Fabian was getting ready to charge again. There was blood running down his chin.
Julia rammed the music deck volume up full. "Enough of this. Fabian, stay where you are."
The three figures froze in surprise.
Julia activated a visual synthesizer program, plugging it into the flatscreens.
"Julia Evans," Charlotte Fielder gasped.
"Hello, Charlotte. I think it's about time you and I had a talk."
"Not a chance," said Nia Korovilla.
"Your position is not a strong one, Nia," Julia said. "There is a tekmerc squad loose in the gondola, two of my agents survived the Messerschmitt attack, and an Event Horizon security crash team is en route. Whoever you work for, they'll have to fight through all those groups to reach you."
What's happening?" Charlotte Fielder implored. Her beautiful face was screwed up in pain. "What attack?"
"The Colonel Maitland is currently under siege by tekmercs," Julia told her. "You are the target, you possess some unique information which several people would like to obtain."
"Not me, no I don't."
Julia could see the girl was near to cracking up.
"Please, Mrs. Evans," Fabian Whitehurst called. "Tell Nia to let Charlotte go. Please." There were tears trickling down his cheeks, mingling with the blood on his chin, droplets spilling onto his jacket.
Nia Korovilla's free hand moved up to clamp around the back of Charlotte Fielder's neck "That isn't an option."
Internal camera, fuselage keel. The four tekmercs under Frank's command had come up the stairwell from the gondola. They were clumping along in single file, helmets brushing the gasbags. The walkway hadn't been designed for armour suits, arms kept knocking against the hand rails, bending them. The grid mesh was creaking under their weight.
Julia sent out a string of instructions to the maintenance drones, directing them down the fuselage to the tail. They began to slide smoothly along their rails.
Internal camera, fuselage engineering bay. Greg and Suzi were stepping off the ladder on to the walkway that would take them to the MHD chamber. One side of the walkway looked out over the engineering bay, a circular lattice of girders like a metal spiderweb. Massive cylindrical heat exchangers, and chrome-silver giga-conductor cells were cocooned Within it, concentric rings of metal eggs. Cables and thick pipes wound around the girders; the air carrying a steady thrumming from the machinery. On the other side of the walkway was the featureless shallow curve of the main spherical gasbag, ringed by one of the doughnut-shaped bags.
Greg consulted his cybofax. "This is it," he said. "Straight ahead now."
"Right." Suzi's acknowledgement was strained.
Julia called them through the cybofax. "Bad news, the maid, Nia Korovilla, is some kind of hardliner."
"Jesus wept," Suzi said hotly. "Last time I ever take on an Event Horizon deal."
"I'm sorry," Julia said. "I didn't realize what was involved when we started out. The situation is becoming very fluid."
"Fluid," Suzi snorted.
"What about the maid?" Greg asked.
"She's cleardusted, and using Charlotte Fielder as a shield."
"So what do you want us to do?"
"The only viable option is to eliminate her. We cannot risk Fielder; and Korovilla has her hand round Fielder's neck, ready to snap it." Julia squirted the den's camera image into Greg's cybofax.
Suzi craned her neck to look at it. "Not good," she said. "We'll have to go straight in and sharpshoot. Korovilla won't be prepared. Even if someone does come in she won't expect them to fire right off. Everyone takes time to assess a new situation."
"All right," Greg said reluctantly.
"I do it," Suzi said flatly.
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah. It's what you brought me for. I can shoot straight, I'm familiar with the Browning. And you might hesitate, with her being a woman."
Greg pulled a sour face. "All right."
"OK. Julia, is she carrying?"
"No, not that I can see."
"That's something."
"I'm negotiating," Julia said. "But I can't hold her much longer. And the tekmercs are two minutes behind you. I've arranged a delay, but I can't guarantee how long that'll keep them."
"We're gone," Suzi said. She began to run lightly down the walkway towards the MHD chamber, fifty metres ahead. The camera showed a hard grey fan of light spilling out of its door.
Internal camera, MHD camera. Charlotte Fielder clamped her jaw shut as Nia Korovilla's hand tightened. The skin of her long neck was showing white around the maid's fingers.