Empire Of Light Part 35

'But including every access point leading directly to the hold,' said Corso, nodding in agreement. 'Except we haven't caught him on camera yet, which means he meaning Trader is staying away from the parts of the ship under surveillance.'

'Then he must still be hiding somewhere on board the ship,' said Dakota.

'Listen,' said Perez, 'there's something else you have to keep in mind before we go running off looking for him. Right now we're down to less than fifty per cent jump capacity. There are also hull defects that need serious attention. We'd be at a huge disadvantage if we tried to jump into the target system right now.'

'Dan's right,' Dakota said to Martinez, 'and I understand you want to let the spider-mechs hunt for Whitecloud on their own and free the rest of us up for essential work, but we've still got a much better chance of catching him if you let me or Ted run the spiders. No amount of repair work is going to make a d.a.m.n bit of difference if we don't have the Mos Hadroch when we reach that cache.'

Martinez closed his eyes for a moment, then took a deep breath before opening them again. 'All right, fine. I guess we don't have any choice.' He fixed Dakota with a look. 'As long as you understand we're running out of time.'

Dakota nodded gravely. 'I understand. But maybe once we've got enough spider-mechs out and looking for Whitecloud, we can flush him out sooner rather than later.'

Chapter Thirty-four.

Lamoureaux sent to Dakota, just a couple of hours later. news.> Dakota herself was standing in the entrance of a deserted engineering bay close by the main hold, watching as three spider-mechs boosted themselves through its echoing empty s.p.a.ce on puffs of gas, their lights swinging from side to side, reflecting off bulkheads and machinery, making the shadows around them seem that much deeper by contrast.

You're saying there's bad news too?

s.h.i.t. Scouts? Scouts?

She saw Whitecloud making his way rapidly down a corridor, a heavy satchel slung over one shoulder. A sign pointing towards an airlock facility was visible behind him as he pa.s.sed the hidden security lens.

Where the h.e.l.l's he going? she sent back. she sent back. That's nowhere near the main hold. That's nowhere near the main hold.

Got it.

She made her way towards the bow, moving away from the hold until she reached the same pa.s.sageway in which Whitecloud had been sighted. She barrelled her way towards the airlock complex at record speed, but it still took her a good ten minutes.

When she got there, she noticed a suit was missing from the racks. Whitecloud was already in one of the airlocks, but still cycling through.

She kicked off from a wall and landed square on the airlock door. She peered in through the gla.s.s panel and saw the back of Whitecloud's head. He was wearing a helmet, his bag slung over the shoulder of his suit.

She slammed her hand against the gla.s.s repeatedly until Whitecloud finally turned to look at her. Something in his face made him look eerily different. How long, she wondered, could Trader maintain his hold on him?

There was no way to override the cycle once it had started, so all she could do was wait until he had exited on to the hull, and the external hatch had swung closed again.

As soon as the safety light blinked on, and the airlock disengaged its safety locks, Dakota yanked the door open and climbed inside, initiating another cycle. By the time the outer hatch slid open once more, her filmsuit had spread out fully beneath her clothes.

She pulled herself out on to the hull but couldn't see Whitecloud. For one freezing moment she thought she had lost him, but then spotted him making his way rapidly through the forest of drive-spines, heading for the stern, his bag bouncing around as he moved.

Ty? Trader? Can you hear me? I'm right behind you.

Whitecloud stopped just long enough to glance back at her. He turned away again, and began to move more quickly.

She pushed herself along parallel to the hull. It was a risky manoeuvre to move this fast without the benefit of a lanyard to keep her attached to the hull itself. One misjudgement could send her spinning away into the darkness of s.p.a.ce.

Trader, I know you're behind this.

To her surprise, he answered her.

The words sounded wrong, issuing from Whitecloud's throat. She found herself unexpectedly recalling the ghost stories of her youth, those tales of spirits and possessions. Hearing Trader speak through a human being was more than a little disquieting.

I know everything, Trader, You killed Olivarri and Willis and now you're using Whitecloud to bring the Mos Hadroch to you. But you can't get to the cache without firepower to back you up, so why are you doing this?

What?

Whitecloud disappeared momentarily behind the wide blade of a heat-exchange nacelle. Dakota kept pulling herself along one of the main plasma conduits, slowly gaining on him. But another fifty metres and the conduits would terminate; after that, she would be pa.s.sing over the exterior of the main hold.

Fine, I admit it. I didn't kill him. Stop now, Trader, or I'll take over your yacht.

You asked me what Moss gave me. He gave me the command structure for your ship. Stop now, or I'll never let you get inside it.

She came to a halt at the nacelle, and worked her way carefully around it. Once she was on the other side, she saw Whitecloud making his way toward an airlock leading directly into a series of access tunnels that surrounded the main hold.

She saw him falter for a moment, standing there unmoving with one hand resting on the external hatch's manual release. She wondered if Trader's control over him was finally slipping.

She pushed towards him with renewed energy.

Ted, Whitecloud's entering the hold through a service lock.

Now.> I hear you.

She kept pushing herself towards Whitecloud. He seemed to have recovered now, quickly releasing the manual switch. She saw red light illuminating the front of his suit as the airlock hatch slowly slid to one side.

Trader! This is crazy. The Emissaries will blow you out of the sky if you try to go to the cache on your own.

Before Dakota could answer, Whitecloud disappeared through the open hatch.

The hull sailed past, only millimetres beneath her. Light had already begun to sparkle along the top of the nearest drive-spines, and she realized the Mjollnir Mjollnir was only seconds from jumping. If she didn't get back inside the ship soon, she risked being vaporized by the energy flow. was only seconds from jumping. If she didn't get back inside the ship soon, she risked being vaporized by the energy flow.

Something sailed past the frigate, moving so fast it was gone by the time she discerned its pa.s.sage. She reached out for a rung next to the hatch . . .

The field-generators came to life, even as the first pulse-beams lanced towards the Mjollnir. Mjollnir.

The world went white for several seconds, but she still had hold of the rung. The light faded quickly, and she activated the lock system, watching the door slide into its recess.

More dark shapes shot past, so quickly they barely registered. She pulled herself inside.

Trader? I don't know how they could have found us. Why don't you tell me?

The hatch slid back into place above her, lightning playing across the hull outside.

The airlock finished its cycle, and Dakota pa.s.sed on into a network of cramped service tunnels. She briefly dipped into the data-s.p.a.ce until she had an idea which way to go.

Following the pa.s.sageway to a heavy door, she pa.s.sed through it and into a large control module overlooking the interior of the hold, designed for use by traffic controllers overseeing the movement of ships and cargo. As she entered it, she saw that the module was several metres across, with a wide window at the far end which revealed the looming shape of Trader's yacht, now free from its cradle and floating just beyond the gla.s.s. It was close enough, in fact, that its drive-spines risked shattering it.

Ty crouched beneath the window, next to a console, still gripping the bag containing the Mos Hadroch tight against his chest. He'd already taken his helmet off.

'You shouldn't have followed me,' Ty rasped in what sounded more like his own voice.

As she stepped closer, he pulled a knife out of the bag, its blade still stained with Willis's blood.

'You can't hurt me with that,' she said. 'Believe me.'

She started to move closer to him and the yacht moved towards the window with startling suddenness. A drive-spine pierced the gla.s.s, sending dozens of fragments spinning through the air. Dakota grabbed hold of a metal shelf bolted to the wall, before the venting atmosphere could suck her out of the module and into the hold.

But the explosive decompression ripped her hands away from the shelf, and she collided with the bulkhead nearest the window. She then managed to grab hold of the console for just long enough to let the force of decompression finally relent after a few moments.

The next time she looked, Whitecloud was gone. The strap of his bag, however, had become caught on a piece of twisted metal to one side of the window-frame.

Dakota pushed herself towards it, hands outstretched.

She was not aware of any kind of explosion, or of being hit by any form of missile. Only later did she recall having a momentary glimpse of a ball of white light expanding through the shattered window towards her. She was initially only aware of now being on the opposite side of the room. The metal shelves were twisted out of shape where her body had rammed into them with sickening force.

The filmsuit had protected her, but the impact had nearly drained it of power. She might have as little as a few minutes left before it would begin to fail.

Trader swam in through the ruined window, moving towards the bag until the sphere of water enveloping him had surrounded it. The tentacles dangling from his underbelly untangled the strap from the obstruction and drew it close to his body.

She watched, helplessly, knowing that if she provoked Trader into attacking her a second time, the power drain would likely overwhelm her filmsuit.

Trader swivelled to look at her directly. I don't know what you mean.

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Nothing would please that monster more than to see us all die, so it was hardly surprising that he might place a similar form of tracking technology on your own person. Something so small and undetectable you would never find it. Then, my dear Dakota, he gave the means of tracking you to our enemies, the Emissaries.> Dakota remembered how Moss had touched her shoulder back on Derinkuyu, and the way his touch had stung.

You're lying. There's no way you could possibly know all this.