Matador - The Omega Cage Part 18

Maro watched as Raze and Sandoz loaded the body onto the aircycle. The machine bobbed as it adjusted to the weight. Raze arranged the corpse so that it would stay on, draping it between the protective side rails used for carrying cargo. The message had gone like Scanner had planned. He had used the tool kit under the cycle's seat to make a break in the com circuit. Even if they checked, he said, they'd never notice that it was done on purpose.

"Ready," Raze said.

Sandoz pulled the pulse pistol from his belt and gazed at it fondly before shoving it into the guard's holster. That had been a sore point with him, but if they had kept it, that would surely have raised suspicions. It was unlikely that the guards would believe it had vanished on impact, and even so, a routine sweep with a detector would turn it up if that were the case. Better to let it go with the guard.

Scanner twisted the throttle and gunned the engine. He had rigged it to stay on until the cycle reached the end of its journey-a trip that should last about two kilometers, they figured. At this height, the ground was more or less flat for that far before a series of dunes crossed the flight path. The cycle would plow into one of those at speed, a collision that would surely have killed the man were he not already dead.

"Give my regards to the devil," Sandoz said as he thumbed the aircycle into forward gear. The machine sped off, arrow straight, flying at chest height.

They watched it for a moment before Maro said, "Come on, let's go. We won't be able to see it hit."

The cycle had given them another tool they had not figured on. They couldn't take anything physical, but Scanner had figured out the lock frequency the guards were using for their operation. Without the codes, a com would only receive garbled static; with them, the transceiver they had taken from the downed flitter was now able to receive and decipher the opchan. Maybe they might get enough warning to hide if somebody else came their way.

Almost out of the desert, Maro thought. Another hour and they would be back in the safety of cover. It could be a lot worse.

They still had a chance.

Chapter Twenty-Two.

Alarms blared, and Stark's office com lit with incoming warnings from his guards: there was a force of Confederation Military cruising toward the prison, bleeding all over the operational channels and demanding to speak to the warden. Stark nodded grimly to himself. Karnaaj of the Soldatutmarkt had arrived, bearing not gifts, but guns.

Well, Stark, said the smirking voice inside his head, if ever you needed a sign, here it is.

Stark sighed and, almost as if he were viewing the movements of some other poor, doomed soul, watched his hand reach for the com.

"Commander Stark." Karnaaj's voice was as cold as he remembered it. "I think you have some explaining to do."

Might as well attack, Stark thought. What the h.e.l.l. "Perhaps, Commander Karnaaj, but maybe first you'd better explain why you countermanded my authority on radio silence and Military Emergency Priority Status-"

"Let's not play games here, Stark. I wouldn't be here if I didn't have the clout."

True, Stark thought, and we both know it. But he had to go through the motions. "All right, Commander. I have a situation here that-"

"State the nature of it," Karnaaj demanded. His voice was like a coiled steel snake, tightly wound and set to strike.

Stark closed his eyes. "An escape. Seven prisoners."

He was glad he couldn't see Kamaaj's face on the restricted channel. There was an ominous moment of silence-then: "You declared a Priority Emergency for an escape? For seven prisoners?" Kamaaj's tone promised retribution for this that would pale the face of a medieval inquisitor.

Time to drop the bomb. "One of them was Maro, Commander. Recall how valuable you told me he was?"

There was another moment of silence after that-but it felt different. Stark had a sudden gut reaction. Something was wrong with Kamaaj's interest in Maro; there was more going on here than showed on the surface. The SDI officer wasn't simply carrying out Confed policy. With the instinct of a good warrior seeing a c.h.i.n.k in the enemy's armor. Stark struck. "I wanted to handle the matter myself, which is why I haven't put out a planerwide alert or called in the recon satellites yet. But if you like, I can do that now-" "No! I mean, I-ah-see the wisdom of your decision, Warden Stark. It would be easier if we handled this ourselves. No point in bringing in any more people."

Stark grinned fiercely. So the unflappable Karnaaj didn't want the Confed looking over his shoulder on this. Interesting. Very interesting. For the moment, then, they were on the same side. It might be a rogues' alliance, but it was better than none. Karnaaj had a weak spot, and Stark had just found part of it.

He might just come out of this alive...

Maro thought that the straggly trees and underbrush that appeared when the sands faded into harder earth were the most beautiful things he had ever seen. When the canopy closed in overhead and the ground growth thinned he felt immeasurably safer than he had on the desert.

Occasionally, the small transceiver that he now carried would crackle with talk on the search opchan, but from the sound of it, the guards were still fanned out in the opposite direction.

Another hour's walk brought them to the Girdle; thirty minutes after that they were at the mining site.

It was amazing. The jagged scar of the strip-mining operation had been smoothed but little by the few years of weather, but the area was littered with rusty machinery. How could they have simply left all this? There were worlds in the galaxy where just the metal of the abandoned gear would be worth a fortune, not to mention the motors and engines contained therein. Some of the devices for moving rock were ten meters tall and twice that length, with treads the height of a tall man; and everywhere, it seemed, smaller machines sat where they had been left, as though waiting for their operators to return and continue working.

"Let's do a quick survey and see what all we've got here," the smuggler said. Sandoz muttered something under his breath. Maro turned to him. "I didn't catch that."

"Nothing."

They split up into pairs. Scanner and Raze went to the north, Sandoz and Chameleon to the south, and Maro and Juete to the east, toward the edge of the Girdle itself.

An hour later the six met back at the Admin building, which was roughly in the center of the mining camp.

Scanner said, "Mostly housing to the north. The rec hall, cafeteria, like that. But we found Stores, and maybe half a dozen three-man carts. They're surface vehicles, with fat tires, but I think I can get them running-."

Maro nodded. "Juete and I found Operations One. Most of the place had been cleared, but there are three GE shovel-loaders parked out back on the edge of the Girdle. Nothing else useful."

It was Sandoz's turn, and he looked like a man with a secret. "Me and the skin-shifter found Op Two, and it was pretty well cleaned out, too. There's something called a-what was it?"

"Sort Separator," Chameleon put it.

"Yeah, a Sort Separator, that looks in pretty good shape. I don't know what it does, but there's a lot of motors on it. And we found Maintenance. Somebody left a whole s.h.i.tload of tools behind. Wrenches, welders, power sockets, like that. And a broadcast generator with two drums of fuel, too."

Scanner laughed in delight. "Tools and power! We can do it! I'd bet demi-stads to toenails that I can cobble a GE repellor to one of those carts and give us wings!"

"How long?" Maro asked.

"Two days, maybe less, if we all help. It won't be pretty and it won't be fast, but if we have any luck at all, we can make it work."

"We've been walking all night," Maro said. "We should get a few hours' sleep first. I'd hate to see anybody burn off a hand because he pa.s.sed out."

n.o.body argued with that.

Juete woke with a full bladder. Dain slept next to her, but he didn't move when she got up. They had chosen one of the small housing units just north of the Admin building. It had two sleeping rooms and a fresher unit. The others were in similar buildings in rows of a dozen such. She went to the fresher, but the chemical toilet had long since gone sour and died, so she moved outside, walked around behind the house, untabbed her coverall and squatted. She had gotten used to doing that the last few days.

As she stood and began to retab her coverall, Sandoz stepped around the corner in front of her.

Juete felt a cold finger of fear touch her spine. The a.s.sa.s.sin indicated the coverall. "Take it off."

"What?"

"You heard me." He reached for the tabs on his own coverall and began to pull them open. She didn't have to look; she could sense his erection.

She felt the familiar remoteness, the insulating emotional shutdown, begin. It was not important. He wanted to f.u.c.k her and it would be the simplest thing to let him. He could probably kill her without raising his heartbeat; worse, he could hurt Dain or the others. It would cost her maybe five minutes, and he didn't have the look of a man who enjoyed giving pain with his s.e.x. It would hurt n.o.body. She had done worse.

The situation had been too good to last.

She started to strip.

"No," came Raze's voice.

Juete turned and saw the woman standing there. Sandoz turned also. "Stay out of this," he ordered.

"It's all right," Juete said to Raze.

Looked from her to Sandoz, then back to her. "Do you want this?" Raze asked her.

Juete shrugged. "It doesn't matter. He does, and it's not that important to me."

Raze took 'a step, shifting her left foot forward and turning slightly to the side. "Well, it's important to me," she said. "Rape is rape."

Sandoz hadn't bothered to retab his coverall, but he shifted his stance to mirror Raze's. "I can take you, you know that," he said softly.

"Probably. But I'll hurt you before you do."

"I've been hurt before."

Raze's voice was as soft as Sandoz's. "Listen to me. If we start this, it's all the way, understand? You'll have to kill me, and I'll do my d.a.m.nedest to kill you. I might not succeed. But even if all I do is break your leg, where does that leave you? In the middle of h.e.l.l with the demons looking for you."

Juete could see Sandoz thinking about that. It seemed like a long time pa.s.sed. Weeks. Years. Eons.

Finally, as the universe approached heat death, Sandoz stepped back and straightened. "It's not worth having to kill you just to screw her," he said. "She wants it, she has to have it, and sooner or later, I'll be around when she comes into heat. I can wait."

Raze held her stance as Sandoz turned and strolled away. Then she relaxed and let out a long breath. "You okay?" she asked.

Juete also remembered how to breathe again. "Yes. Thank you."

"You don't have to let them have you. You don't have to do anything you don't want to. You're free, now."

Tears welled and spilled from Juete's eyes. If only that were true! How would it feel, to really be free? "Th-thank you, Raze." She stepped forward and hugged the other woman, feeling the hard muscle under her hands and against her own body.

Raze hugged her back for a moment, then caught her shoulders and gently pushed Juete away. There was something in the way she did it that made Juete ask, "Is anything wrong?"

"No. Nothing."

Not quite sure why, Juete hesitantly reached out and stroked Raze's cheek. "You're a good friend, Raze."

Raze caught her hand. "Look, I didn't save you from Sandoz just to play with you myself."

Juete blinked in surprise. "I didn't say you did."

Raze was obviously uncomfortable. She avoided the albino's gaze. "I'm not that way, you know. Everyone thinks so-everyone thinks that just because I've got muscles I've got to be a d.y.k.e."

Juete said nothing. After a moment, Raze gave a short, uncomfortable laugh and looked at her. "Sorry. I get tired of explaining, y'know?"

Gently, Juete asked, "Have you ever tried it?"

She thought she saw a momentary flash of fear in Raze's eyes. "No."

Juete felt a strong desire to touch this powerful woman, to kiss and stroke and be with her. "You trust me?"

Raze looked puzzled for a moment. "Yeah. Funny, isn't it?"

Juete raised herself slightly and kissed Raze. Her practiced mouth overcame

Raze's initial resistance. She heard and felt Raze's breath grow ragged, and the small moan that escaped.

"I want you," Juete said.

"You sure?"

"Yes. And that's the difference between you and Sandoz. You care what I want."

They went back into the house. Raze stiffened when she saw Dain, still asleep on

the bed.

"It's all right. He won't mind," Juete said.

"I dunno-"

Juete leaned over him. "Dain?"

He rolled over and blinked sleepily at the two women.

"Raze and I want to be together. We'll be in the next room. Is that okay?"

He smiled. "Sure. Have a good time." He rolled back over.