Belt Three. John Ayliff

Belt Three - John  Ayliff


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you’re more important than us,’ Matton said gently. ‘We’re just tank-borns. Clones. You’re a true-born. Look for a way to save yourself.’

      ‘You know I don’t think I’m better than you.’

      ‘Don’t let the men hear you say that.’ Matton put his hand on the lounge door, and then paused. ‘It’s been an honour working with you, sir.’

      Jonas nodded sadly. ‘And for me.’

      He went up to the nearest servitor and raised the programming spike to the back of its neck, then lowered it again. Matton was right: a straightforward fight would be no good, even as a diversion. He had to think of something else.

      When Jonas got back to the bridge, the Remembrance of Clouds had furled its sail into a bud and was firing up its reaction drive. Ayla had put the Dancer on course for a cluster of small rocks where they might be able to hide, but the pirate ship was closing too quickly. The pilot looked up from her concentration as he entered.

      ‘I’m sorry, sir.’

      ‘It’s all right,’ he said. ‘How long?’

      ‘Just a couple of minutes.’

      Without the glare of reflected sunlight from the sail, the Dancer’s scope was able to resolve more details on the Remembrance of Clouds. Some of what Jonas had taken to be repair jobs were actually weapons: he could see dozens of small missile turrets sprouting all over the ship, and something larger, like a launch tube made of industrial piping, built into the nose complex.

      His mining outpost on LN-411 had deterred pirates using surface-mounted cannons, but most of the cities with which he traded did not allow armed civilian vessels to approach them, so the Coriolis Dancer itself was unarmed. Normally, the Dancer would only travel to a city when the orbits brought it and LN-411 close enough for it to cross without danger, or when it could join a convoy with an armed escort ship. But a Worldbreaker evacuation meant a breakdown in the normal routine of inter-city commerce. At any time there were hundreds of Worldbreakers starward of the veil. When one of them passed through an inhabited section of one of the belts, the Red Zone of its probable course became thick with unarmed ships making long spins to whatever unthreatened outposts they could reach: rich pickings for any pirate ships nearby. Worldbreakers and pirates both struck rarely enough that true-born ship owners accepted the risk; and since pirates would normally ransom true-borns back to their families, the risk to them was purely financial. It was Jonas and his crew’s bad luck that this pirate had focused on them.

      ‘Hail them again,’ Jonas said.

      Ayla put the call through. ‘They’re not responding.’

      ‘Keep trying.’

      He sat back in his control chair and tried to form an image of Keldra in his mind. She had no reason to keep him waiting. It was possible she was tied up by some unrelated task, but more likely she was deliberately keeping him waiting, he decided. Perhaps she liked the feeling of power.

      ‘Are we sure they’re pirates?’ asked Ayla hopefully. ‘That symbol they’re using…I thought pirates used skulls.’

      ‘They usually do.’ Jonas pulled up a magnified image of the logo on the pirate ship’s cargo bay. The spiral was only the skeleton of a more complex pattern: the blue circle was criss-crossed with white streaks and swirls, looking irregular and feather-edged as if they had been hand-painted. He stared for a few seconds before he realized what it depicted. ‘Clouds. That’s a picture of the Earth.’

      ‘Oh,’ Ayla said. ‘I didn’t know what it looked like. I suppose you’d know.’

      ‘I suppose.’

      ‘I’m getting a response through now.’

      Keldra’s expression was smug and cruel; she knew she had already won. ‘Captain Gabriel Reinhardt. I see your ship’s changed course. I hope your pilot isn’t taking matters into her own hands.’

      Jonas made himself smile. ‘Captain Keldra, as you can see, the Worldbreaker has forced us to travel through dangerous territory with no escort. I’m prepared to offer you a substantial fee in exchange for your protection.’

      ‘I’m not interested in being bought off. I want your cargo and your crew.’

      ‘There must be some deal we can reach. This doesn’t have to end with my crew mind-wiped.’

      Keldra looked at him with disgust. ‘You want to negotiate? Spineless true-born scum, think you can talk your way out of every problem.’

      ‘They’re locking weapons,’ Ayla said.

      ‘We have no basis to negotiate,’ Keldra continued. ‘You have nothing I want that won’t be mine in a few moments anyway.’

      ‘I’ll destroy the ship,’ Jonas said suddenly.

      ‘What?’ Keldra froze, and fixed Jonas in a piercing gaze.

      ‘You heard me.’ He had made the threat without thinking, but now he couldn’t take it back. ‘If you try to dock, I’ll overload the reactor.’

      ‘You won’t,’ Keldra said, but Jonas could tell she wasn’t sure.

      ‘Ayla!’ he shouted. ‘Remove reactor safeties!’

      Shocked, Ayla hesitated, but then she closed her eyes for a few seconds and warning icons appeared all over Jonas’s console.

      Keldra seemed to study him for a moment, not quite hiding her uncertainty, then her mouth curled into a wicked smile. ‘So do it. I’m not turning back.’ The transmission shut off.

      Ayla turned back to Jonas, her eyes wide with panic. ‘Gabriel, don’t do this.’

      The Remembrance of Clouds had matched orbit with the Dancer and was closing in to dock. Jonas’s heart sank; he wasn’t sure he could go through with his threat. ‘I can’t let her turn you and the others into servitors,’ he said.

      ‘Sir, we’re dead anyway,’ Ayla pleaded. ‘Let her ransom you to your family. You’re the important one. You…you knew what Earth looked like.’

      On his console’s lidar display, the Remembrance of Clouds was drawing alongside. Jonas’s finger hovered above the control that would overload the reactor, but he found himself unable to press it. Ayla was right: she and the crew were dead, one way or another. Gabriel wouldn’t have wanted Jonas to die like this. There had to be a way out.

      He couldn’t beat the ship, but perhaps he could beat the person. He knew Keldra was emotional; he was sure that her anger had been genuine and not an act. She seemed to have enjoyed gloating, so he knew she was cruel. Perhaps he could use that.

      He had an idea. Jonas had years of experience with servitor programming, from his time as an Administrator. Keldra didn’t know that, so she wouldn’t expect him to know some of the tricks he did. The servitor combat programme wouldn’t be any use while the ship was being boarded, but if he could save it for the right moment…

      A shudder ran through the ship as the pirate’s docking lines locked on. The pirates would cut through the Dancer’s cargo bay door and enter the ring through the cargo airlock.

      He walked over to Ayla’s chair. ‘Ayla, hold still.’

      She looked up, startled but obedient. Jonas put a hand on her shoulder and held the programming spike to the back of her neck, just below the base of her skull. Her eyes glazed over as the spike momentarily took control of her pilot implant. He tapped in his Administrator override code and then loaded the combat programme into the implant’s free space. ‘Prepare to enter dormant mode,’ he said, speaking to the combat programme through Ayla’s ears. ‘Verbal re-activation, my voice, password…’ He searched for a word. ‘Oberon.’

      The implant blinked Ayla’s eyes twice, acknowledging its new instructions.

      ‘Short-term


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