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\iair!"\i She jumped up and pulled at him. "The airlock, Rooster! Topside-same
one they tried to kill \iyou\i with! Come on!"
She didn't wait, but drove herself upship as hard as she could go-panting,
legs aching, she climbed.
And when she reached the right deck-pausing, the deck level with her waist-at
the airlock door were two hooded figures. And one of them shot at her.
The first shots hit wide. She ducked, and now the stairs gave cover. When the
firing stopped, she brought her own gun up-hand raised first, shooting before
her head topped the step-and sprayed the area
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One enemy was down, gun lying free of the outstretched hand. The other,
running now, fell once and then scrambled around a corner, out of sight. Up on
the deck, sprinting for the airlock, Zelde heard a door creak. Down the
hullside stairs, that one was going.
All right-that could wait. The airlock-she looked inside. Turk lay writhing,
hands to her throat, pink froth bubbling from nose and mouth. But the high
whistling noise-what was it?
The airlock control lights read "Open to space"-but the lock \iwasn't\i open.
Pressure down to-\ioh my
God! She'll be dead!-\iand now Zelde heard the exhaust pump throbbing, \r
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\rand turned it off. The door wouldn't open-not with that much pressure
difference. She pulled the handle once, anyway, then looked for another
answer.
Now she saw what made the whistling. Her own shooting-two holes in the heavy
airlock window, and air screaming through them. All right-pointblank she shot
a pattern, a rough circle, hoping the needles wouldn't ricochet to find Turk.
Then she wrapped her jacket around one fist, stepped back, and lunged to hit
with her full weight. And the tough plastic shattered.
Vacuum took the jacket-by luck she got her hand back out without laying the
wrist open on the jagged edges. Explosively, air filled the lock. And as
Rooster finally joined her, she got the door open.
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They went in together. On her knees, Zelde wiped bloody foam from her friend's
face. Was she breathing? Not to notice. . . . Zelde put her mouth to the
other's and-once, and again, and another time, for luck-blew in, as hard as
she could. Then she pulled back and looked. Yes-blood still came, but now
Turk was breathing on her own.
Zelde got up. Rooster sat, and cradled Turk's head in his lap. "Is she going
to make it?"
"She's got a chance-let me get Fesler." But the intercom terminal was dead.
"Rooster-I got to find me a call box; they wrecked this one." She looked at
Turk, and made the best guess she could. "Shouldn't hurt to move her. Why
don't you start bringing her downship?" He nodded; she turned toward the
landing.
Then she thought, and went to the hullside stairs door. It was open-looking
down, she saw no one. Just in case, though, that's the route she took-gun out
and ready- until she got to where people were. Then she called Fesler.
Fine. He'd come topside right away-and not alone.
All right-long enough, she'd been running around like a chicken with its head
cut off. Time she got to
Control and found out what was going on. In a hurry, she went there.
The place was full of smoke-she couldn't see very far, and she heard a lot of
coughing. Holding a sleeve across her face, she headed for the watch-officer's
station.
Somebody said, "Hold it right there! Who are you?" She
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didn't know the voice, for sure, so she hunkered down behind a readout
console. \iCould be one of them!
\i
But when she said who she was, the other said, "Good. Then we're both in safe
country," and she stood again.
Three more steps and she could see Lera Tzane. Zelde spoke first. "What \iis\i
this?"
Tzane's hair straggled across a bruised cheek. "I-don't know. I tried to call
you. But \ithis\i-" She gestured toward the rest of the room. "It must have
been the messenger. He-"
"What messenger? Start from scratch, will you?"
After a deep, shuddering breath-and at least the air was clearing-Tzane said,
"I didn't see him come in.
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I was checking a blip that didn't repeat. Someone tapped my shoulder and I
turned to see-saw this man-
they say he came in as a messenger-and he hit me. Then the smoke bomb went
off, and I-"
"Tzane! You got \ianything\i that makes sense?"
The woman shook her head. "Not really, Zelde. I suppose the same man had the
bomb, set it down-no one would notice a box-"
"Why'd he hit you? And stop with that, I mean?"
"How could I know? He had something in his hand-I dodged the blow, a
little-and when the bomb went, a gun fired, too. Then the man ran, back
through the smoke."
Tzane looked like apologizing; Zelde touched the bruised cheek and said, "Not
your fault, Lera. Those peacefucking Uties-they're hitting us every place all
to once! Tried to kill me-then Parnell, and Turk-
we're lucky, I guess, that whatever they were after, here, they didn't get
it."
Tzane looked unhappy. "I hope you're right. But a sheaf of readouts is
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missing-it was right here beside me."
"Important?"
"I don't know, Zelde. I'd had no chance to look through it."
Damn all!-more to worry on? She shook her head- forget it! Right fast now,
either she'd have their ass or they'd have hers-and the rest went with it.
She said, "Full alert, we go on! Lera, roust up guards for all of it. In
pairs. The usual scutwork can wait." Something else? Yes. "First thing,
special-get Dopples protected!" Tzane nodded, and Zelde turned to go. She
nearly bumped
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\rinto Gil Charvel; he carried a crumpled stack of paper. "What's that?"
"A man running out of here," said Charvel. "He dropped these."
"The readouts!" said Lera.
"Then that's one thing," Zelde said, "we don't have to worry about."
She was nearly to the door when someone called, "Officer M'tana-emergency!" At
the comm-panel, she heard one of Fesler's aides.
It was too much. When she could answer, she said, "I'll be right there."
But when she got to quarters, Parnell was dead. And for a time, there, she
didn't know where she was or what she did.
She was still hugging him, crying, trying to breathe life into him again, when
Fesler made her stop. "It's no use, Zelde. My aide-" Zelde looked at the
frightened woman, as Fesler said, "She called me immediately, when she found
him like this-and then applied all the resuscitation techniques. No time
wasted; she did everything she could. And so did I-another adrenalin shot, all
of it." He spread his hands. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]