Grand Cross Page 7

  “So much for trust, eh?” Aralyn growled. “I thought we were working together.”

  Taav barely looked back as he led them through clean, sparse white hallways. “And I’m sure you’ll forgive me if I have reservations about releasing the woman who escaped from a holding cell and a maximum-security prison without at least a little insurance.”

  “What’s to stop us from taking these things out?” Riordan demanded. He’d paled at the sight of the dead man’s blood splattered over the holding area and kept one hand planted on his arm to stop the minor bleeding from the injection. He didn’t seem to mind that some had even gotten on his fingers. But Aralyn wasn’t surprised that he seemed to miss it, considering what they’d just left behind.

  Taav shrugged his big shoulders. “I suppose that’s the part where you’ll have to trust me,” he admitted. “This isn’t Tartarys; there’s no poison in those things. You want to dig them out, you can do it with the medical drones at any station. But if you believe me when I say it’s for your own protection, then you’ll keep them in. Those chips are directly attuned to my personal module”―he held up his wrist, where the metal gleamed from beneath the edge of his blue uniform sleeve―“so if you’re in trouble, maybe I can help. Your call.”

  Aralyn glanced quietly around at the others, uncertain of how to respond. Before she could answer, Taav stopped in front of a huge set of metal double-doors, similar to the ones they had gone through to get in here. He turned to face them and patiently clasped his hands in front of him like a school teacher explaining a difficult math problem.

  “We’re taking you off-planet, immediately,” he said. “It isn’t safe here for you.”

  “You think?” Kita spat, glaring at him, her chipped arm held protectively against her chest, eyes accusing.

  “You need to explain what the fuck just happened back there,” Caden fumed. “Before we go any further, we need to know we can trust you.”

  Taav nodded as if this was the most natural thing in the world. “I suspected that at least one of my men was a double agent, if not more. I needed to create a distraction to draw them out. I―”

  “Used. Us. As. Bait,” Aralyn said from between clenched teeth.

  “Once we walk out of these doors, you all are on your own,” Taav said in lieu of an admission of guilt or an apology. “I don’t have time to explain anymore. Likely, Eladia already knows her attempt on your lives failed, and if she didn’t, then she will soon. Proctor knows your location, too. Things are accelerating beyond my control, faster than I had anticipated. I will contact you soon with further instructions”—he turned to study Caden, his face dark—“and as for trusting me, I’d say that the new decorations on the wall and floors back in the holding cells says far more than my words ever could.”

  Caden stepped forward, nearly toe-to-toe with the bigger man, glaring up at him. “If I find out that you’re working for my father―”

  “I know, Mr. Madigan,” Taav said, nodding. “But I can assure you that I’ve been hunting his old ass down for a lot longer than you have, and there is far more at stake than your daddy issues here.” His gaze softened. “I thought long and hard about involving you, but I am trusting you as much as I’m asking you to trust me.”

  Caden’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing further. Taav signaled to his men, and they hefted their guns and then powered on the shocksticks at their waists. Electricity buzzed through the air.

  “You’re prisoners,” Taav said. “Outside of this hall, I’m a Spector, and you’re all criminals. If Proctor finds out I set this up…” He shook his head. “Don’t breathe a word to anyone. Not even people you think you can. No one but this team and my informant… And even him I’d be careful of.”

  “We’re fresh out of people we trust, anyway, I’m afraid,” Aralyn grumbled.

  “This needs to look like a proper arrest, for obvious reasons. I know you don’t like it, but I’m trusting you all to get the job done, so maybe just send a little trust back in my direction, yeah?” He sighed. “You’re under arrest, on your way to Purgatory, so look the part. Someone is watching… Someone is always watching.” He shook his head. “I know it probably won’t be a stretch, but I need you all to act as though you loathe me. Be bitter, angry, rude, whatever you want. And Mr. Madigan, at some point I’m going to need you to mention your father―quite loud.”

  Before anyone could question him further, Taav opened the doors and his team shoved Aralyn, Kita, Riordan, and Caden forward, berating them as they went. It was like the volume dial had been turned all the way up from mute. Taav’s men shouted and shoved the barrels of their guns into their prisoners’ backs and sides, jostling them along. Aralyn found rather quickly that she didn’t have to fake being afraid.

  “Let’s go, assholes!” demanded one guard, tapping his weapon in his hand eagerly. “Move it!”

  Aralyn kept her face grim―not a difficult task, given the circumstances―and marched forward, glaring balefully at every floating lens and eye or wrist module camera recording their armed escort. This would be big news for a station like Makemake, and judging by the crowds, everyone there was dying to find out what was going on.

  In all likelihood, the arrest would be across the ‘net by the time they were off-planet, and it seemed that was exactly what Taav wanted. She glanced over at Caden, who for the most part looked every bit the sullied criminal he was supposed to be. The truth was, they’d likely have been turned in by now if they’d been put in the criminal bounty system―or “shoutbox” for short―but thanks to Proctor’s great shame at his son’s criminal tendencies, no such announcement had ever come.

  Of course, within UDA circles their crimes weren’t a secret―Taav’s list had proven that little tidbit. And soon, thanks to his plan, it wouldn’t be a mystery to anyone else, either. Proctor might have been able to keep his son’s name out of the shoutbox, but he wouldn’t be able to keep their arrest off the ‘net once news got out―a fact that Aralyn figured Taav was gambling on in order to distract Proctor enough to get him to let his guard down for a little bit.

  Every Spector out there would know Caden’s face, and likely many criminals, too. There had never been a runner-turned-Spector-turned-runner before in the entire history of the UDA, and that would make his arrest epic, unfortunately, once people figured out who he was. He scowled at the cameras and then turned his eyes back to the ground, watching his feet as they walked.

  “This isn’t good,” Aralyn said. “There are a lot of bad people who want to know where we are right now.”

  “He doesn’t care,” Caden seethed. “None of them do. They just want to do what’s best for the UDA and they’ll sacrifice anyone lesser in order to achieve that.”

  Taav tilted his head back over his shoulder. “I didn’t make you a criminal, Madigan,” he said. “That was entirely your choice. All of you had that choice.”

  “But being able to exploit us because of it is just a bonus, right?” Kita spat, eyes dark. “All you UDA types are the same. Whenever things get difficult, you have no problem using people to make your ends meet―even if you’re hurting them.”

  Aralyn had to agree with that sentiment. Proctor had been a Spector for decades… and he’d spent a good portion of that time trafficking people in and out of Tartarys, selling them like produce to Eladia’s crews. He’d spent a good portion of time working out how to get Aralyn sent to Tartarys for embroiling his son in her “criminal tendencies,” all while continuing to smuggle prisoners out and sell them to the slave trade to make himself richer. And then when they’d embarrassed him and escaped his inescapable prison, he’d had no problem releasing Josiah, Dolph, and Lucy the cannibal out to hunt them down as soon as it was convenient for him.

  It was becoming apparent that the UDA had little concern over the lives of the people it was designed to protect. Aralyn, Caden, Riordan, and Kita might be runners and criminals, but they were also victims—of both the system and the law that was supposed to protect
them.

  “Don’t forget what we talked about,” Taav said, coolly blowing off Kita’s accusatory remarks. “You get nothing unless we get results.”

  He continued marching them through the busy hall and back out to the docks. They passed by Caden’s UDA ship, which had been impounded. There were agents crawling all over, examining it, even though Aralyn could already see that they’d upended it quite well. She scowled as they walked, further and further to the back of the station, away from any prying eyes.

  She studied Taav’s back, his shoulders squarely resolute but also tense; she eyed the area, wondering if there were any other UDA “agents” out there like the one they’d played paint by numbers with bits of blood and brain and bone in the holding area. Would a bullet come ripping through her flesh at any moment? Ignorance, in this situation at least, was far from bliss. The guards shoved them along, abusing them the whole while.

  “Keep up,” Taav said. “We’ve got you at dock thirty-two.”

  He pointed to the platform area, and Aralyn eyed the large ship and barely stifled an impressed whistle. It was sleek and black, likely some sort of former military vehicle, and dwarfed Caden’s ship easily. The ramp leading inside was open, and two UDA Inspectors in full uniform waited stiffly at attention at the bottom. When Taav strode in front of them, they saluted until he returned the gesture.

  “Gentlemen,” Taav said, waving a hand over at the motley crew of runners, “these lovely people are depending on you to get them to Purgatory for processing.”

  At the mention of Purgatory, Aralyn’s insides twisted. It’s just for show, right? she reminded herself. Taav is trying to make it look good for Proctor. Still, the thought of returning to the penal colony made her shiver. It was only a step away from Tartarys. A place she would never, ever go again if she had any choice in the matter.

  “You’re sending us to Purgatory?” Caden demanded, looking every bit the spoiled brat. “When Board Inspector Madigan hears about this―”

  “Purgatory is generally where prisoners go,” Taav said, his voice booming through the quiet hangar. “Which if you think back hard enough, I’m sure you’ll remember it from your days as a Spector, Madigan. So shut your goddamn mouth, you turn-tail piece of shit. If your father wants to find you, he knows where it is.”

  More Makemake workers were tagging along behind them, recording the gauntlet run to the ship, whispering in soft tones. At the mention of Caden being a former Spector, however, the whispers increased in intensity until it sounded like a hive vibrating against the see-through walls.

  “Think that’ll hold us?” Kita spat, her hands in tight fists. “We’ve gotten out of worse.”

  “Like Lyria V’s holding cells,” Aralyn added, a smug grin on her face, though it faltered just slightly. “Or Tartarys.”

  Taav’s hand came up as though he was going to strike her, and Aralyn flinched backward. Caden’s eyes, wide and nervous, filled with rage as he stepped between them, almost nose to nose with the spector, chest to chest, daring him to make a move.

  “Don’t you dare touch her,” Caden growled. The hectic pulse of his heartbeat pounded frantically in his temple and jumped below the skin of his neck.

  The volume of the crowd grew, and more vid cams and floating lenses popped up. People were enjoying the spectacle, and it was almost guaranteed that news of their arrest was on the ‘net before they’d even leave the planet’s airspace.

  “I suggest you get out of my face, little boy,” Taav said, his smile rigid, “before I make you regret this decision.”

  Two guards stepped forward and pulled Caden backward, but he shrugged out of their grips. Although he didn’t close the distance between them, his body thrummed with the desire to. Aralyn tugged on his arm. It’s okay, she mouthed to him. He blinked, nodded, and stepped back, standing next to her, hands shaking with unspent adrenaline. Aralyn wasn’t sure how much of this charade was an act—on either of their parts. The UDA had training and indoctrination that many people had likened to being on par with the North American Marines back on Earth.

  They didn’t handle traitors well, it would seem.

  Riordan crossed his arms across his chest, unwilling or unable to go along with the spectacle, clearly dismayed at the amount of attention they were receiving.

  “Screw you, spook. We’ll be out of here in no time,” Kita told Taav.

  He laughed, an easy, slow-rolling chuckle. “I know they say that prisoners aren’t getting dumber; that arrest and tracking technology is just getting better, but I do believe this group could be an exception to the rule.” The smile fell from his face. “Now shut up or the next words out of your mouth will be, ‘Please don’t hurt me anymore,’ got it?”

  Kita shut her mouth like a steel trap, pinning her jaws together firmly. Aralyn contemplated saying something else, but a dark look from the giant Spector quelled that idea. Beneath the haughty exterior, she was still concerned that somehow, it was all just a show to get them to go along peacefully to jail. If Taav had been acting, then it was some class-A deception. She squeezed her eyes shut. It was probably just more games… a gift from Eladia and Proctor to mess with their brains and give them some kind of hope before dashing it completely.

  But what about the man who’d tried to kill her?

  Maybe Taav just wants the glory all for himself.

  “Sir, we’ve received the transit information as well as the manifest for stored goods and passengers on this ship. All is accounted for. We are ready to go,” said the man to Aralyn’s right, a muscular brunette with a hard look in his eye.

  The guy on the other side of the ramp―a short man with a wimpy beard and a weak chin―kept shooting them suspicious glances. She eyed him back and wondered, not for the first time, what game was Taav trying to play. As far as arrests went, apart from the impromptu pow-wow where he entreated them for help, everything seemed like a standard prisoner transport. Helios knew she was familiar enough with that after her extradition to several planets whose stolen goods she was carrying when she’d been arrested.

  “Get them in the brig,” Taav ordered Weak-Chin. To the brunette he said, “It’s all yours now, Captain Hooper.” He turned and strode past them without a second glance, whistling some melody Aralyn was unfamiliar with.

  The guards that had accompanied Taav on their walk down the runway wasted no time in shuffling them forward behind the two ship soldiers, jostling them along the ramp and shoving them aboard the ship. Aralyn was almost blown away by the massive interior of the new ship, which was clearly designed for transportation, but maintained an elegant and simple, sparse style. There was an actual cockpit near the front with large seats for the pilot and co-pilot on their right, alongside a huge 3D map table in the center of the vessel behind it. Attached along the wall to the rear, near the hall that led further back into the ship, was a row of rich, fabric-covered seats. In the farthest back corner was an impressive computer layout with two stations for double ‘net access.

  Aralyn would have been impressed if it wasn’t such a looming threat that they would possibly go to prison for who knew how long until they died.

  “That will be all. We can take it from here,” said Hooper, dismissing the group of escorts.

  The soldiers left without a word, and soon it was only the four runners, Captain Hooper, and his weak-chinned compatriot.

  “Welcome aboard the UDA Phantom,” said Hooper. He gestured to the back hallway and smirked. “Right this way, ladies and gentlemen. Stevens”―he turned to Weak-Chin, who stiffened as though struck with lightning―“get this bird in the air.”

  “Sir,” Stevens squeaked out as he headed for the cockpit.

  “It’s his first prisoner transport assignment,” Hooper said with a wink. “But not mine, so don’t get any ideas.”

  “I-ideas?” Riordan stammered, dumbfounded. “About what, leaving?”

  Hooper blinked as though the question was a stupid one. “I heard you lot escaped Tartarys―that true?”


  The question seemed amicable, but Aralyn couldn’t tell if there was more to it than just spectator curiosity. She shrugged. “Yeah. A few months back.”

  Stevens kept looking over his shoulder every so often as they spoke, eyes wide.

  Hooper nodded at her answer, brows arched even as his mouth pulled down into a curious frown that seemed to say he was impressed despite himself. He moved toward the hall at the back of the ship, but when no one else joined him, he spun, a dark look on his otherwise pleasant features. “Prisoners, this way.” His smile was stiff.

  Aralyn eyed the others and followed the UDA agent as he made his way through the back hall, verbally pointing out areas of interest, like the kitchen, the lounge area, the barracks in the very back, and where the bathrooms and showers were. He also pointed out the engine room, the access hatch to steerage, and the ship control and weapons maintenance consoles. It was like a bizarre house tour with a peppy listing agent.

  As they passed by a door that was unmarked, Hooper casually said, “And these are the holding cells. There are six reinforced steel cells with holo-field doors inside.” And kept walking.

  Caden tugged at Aralyn’s sleeve until she slowed her pace and let everyone else pass ahead of her. “So… are we arrested or not?” he asked, his voice a whisper. “I thought we’d be in holding until they dropped us into enemy territory.”

  Aralyn chewed at her lower lip. She just barely fought the abstract compulsion to reach for her starburst necklace, which by now had probably been pawned for much less than it was worth.

  “I don’t know,” she admitted, keeping her voice low as he directed them down to the bunk area. “Taav’s got us playing a game where he’s the only one who knows the rules.”