No Place to Hide Page 4

  “JaQuan?” she said.

  “You know this woman?” the female said, turning to JaQuan.

  Jesus, it was him. He was a terrorist? That’s what he’d been doing with himself since he’d left her? She could barely believe it. It wasn’t like him. He’d changed a lot in three years. Or maybe she had never really known him.

  Anger steeled her. Her surprise turned to fury.

  “Gwen, what are you doing here?” he asked.

  “What am I doing here?” she roared. “I’m with the fucking Space Rangers, JaQuan! I’m tracking Manifest Destiny terrorists who kidnapped the daughter of an Imperial Senator. And I just found them.”

  “You are mistaken,” the male Graur said.

  “Bullshit,” Gwen retorted. “Haneeta Mol was spirited aboard the freighter Cataan’s Claw. Imperial battlecruisers attempted to detain her at Daxal Station, but she escaped.

  “Funny, though, she was damaged in the fight. Something went wrong with her hyperdrive. She never arrived at her intended destination in the Rijan system.

  “But here are two Graur and two humans who arrived aboard a shuttle registered to Cataan’s Claw. Way out here in the Horari Belt, where Imperial forces and even the Space Rangers don’t patrol. And wouldn’t Sigba Station, the most notorious outlaw haven in the Empire be the perfect place to put in for repairs without anyone asking any questions?

  “Tell me again how I’m mistaken.”

  Another silence followed, confirming everything Gwen said. JaQuan sighed.

  “You’re too damned smart, Gwen,” he said. “You always were.”

  “Shut the fuck up, JaQuan,” she said. “Your ass is coming with me.”

  “No it isn’t,” the female said. “There are four of us, Space Ranger. You can’t get us all. It’s unlikely you could get even one of us. If you value your life, you’ll put your weapon away and forget you ever saw us.”

  Gwen narrowed her eyes. The woman was clearly the biggest threat. Graur females were renowned as fiercer fighters than the males. Indeed, Graur society was matriarchal. The only woman in the quartet was likely to be the most dangerous person here. Gwen shifted her position so that her beamer was pointed directly at the woman.

  “Let me explain something to you,” Gwen said. “I graduated at the top of my class in marksmanship. I was a brilliant shot back on Earth with ballistic weapons before I ever got here and discovered beamers.

  “I can shoot you in the eye before you can blink, Missy. Better than that, I can drill you in the pupil. While you’re moving. You’ll be dead before you even have time to realize you made a fatal mistake. Do not threaten me. Attempt to flee or attack me, and it will be the last thing you ever do.”

  The Graur’s lip curled in a snarl. Her muscles coiled. But she didn’t move.

  “I’m sorry, Ranger,” the male Graur said, “but you are mistaken about several things. We may be from Cataan’s Claw, but we did not do these things of which we are accused.”

  “Tell it to the tribunal,” she retorted.

  “For God’s sake, Gwen,” JaQuan said, coming forward, “we’re being set up!”

  “Step the fuck back, JaQuan,” Gwen said, keeping her beamer trained on the female. “Or I’ll put a hole in the empty space in your chest where your heart should be.”

  He put his fists on his hips and cocked his head.

  “So you’re still pissed at me,” he said.

  “This ain’t got nothing to do with that!” she snapped. “You’re a terrorist. I’m bringing you in.”

  “No, I’m not, Gwen,” he said. “None of us are. Someone pulled a fast one on us. We didn’t have anything to do with that kidnapping. Someone fucked us up, and we don’t even know why yet.

  “But I swear to you we didn’t even know about the kidnapping until after we got away from Daxal. We don’t want anything to do with Manifest Destiny.”

  “I’m not listening to any more of your lies, JaQuan. Now put your hands on your head, all of you, and turn around.”

  “Your friend speaks the truth, Gwen,” the male Graur said.

  “He ain’t no fucking friend,” she said.

  “Ouch,” JaQuan said.

  “No, you don’t get to play me like that,” Gwen said. “Fuck you, JaQuan. We are not going back three years. We’re staying right here in the present. You’re a terrorist; I’m a Space Ranger. You’re coming with me, and you’re going to tell me where to find Haneeta Mol.”

  “Jesus Christ, Gwen,” he said, his voice cracking. His eyes pleaded with her. “You know me. You know I didn’t do this. It’s not me. I could never do something like this. I know we ended badly, but come on. You can’t have forgotten who I really am.”

  She could feel her resolve crumbling. Damn him. Those big, brown eyes and that chiseled, handsome face were disarming her like they always had. His rich, chocolate skin. His rumbling baritone. Why did he always get to her?

  No, fuck that. He was not smooth-talking his way out of this.

  “Save it, JaQuan,” she said. “I’m not interested.”

  “Gwen, listen to me—”

  “No, I’m through listening. You can make your case to the authorities. I’m bringing you in.”

  “Ranger Gwen, I can’t let you do that,” the big Graur said.

  “You might be a great shot, lady,” the woman said. “But you can’t get us all.”

  “I can,” Gwen said. “And I will. Now this is your last warning. Hands on your heads.”

  JaQuan stared at her. Sadness filled his gaze.

  “Fine,” he said. “Take me. Let my friends go.”

  “JaQuan, no!” the woman said. “They’ll hang you as a traitor.”

  Both Graur turned to him, seeming to forget Gwen was there. JaQuan put his hands up to mollify them. They stepped closer to him.

  “Hey!” Gwen shouted. “Nobody fucking move!”

  The slight human pushed JaQuan aside and pointed a pistol at her. She whirled to shoot him.

  A lightning bolt struck her in the shoulder. Her shot went awry. Her whole body went numb. She tried to scream and couldn’t. Then the world went black.

  JaQuan belted Alan, driving a full-force punch into the younger man’s shoulder. He yelped and fell to the ground. Most importantly, he released the trigger on his electroray gun.

  Gwen collapsed to the deck, and JaQuan raced to her, dropping to his knees and skidding to a stop. He put a hand to her neck, but couldn’t find a pulse. He’d never been any good at that. So he bent over and put his ear to her sternum.

  “What are you doing?” Alan cried.

  “Shut the fuck up,” JaQuan shouted back.

  He closed his eyes, blocked out all the distractions, listened. Yes, there it was. Her heart was still beating. He listened longer. It raced, no doubt from the surge of current, but it was regular, not arrhythmic. Alan hadn’t killed her.

  “Jesus Christ, JaQuan,” Alan said, “what is the matter with you?”

  “Me?” JaQuan raged, sitting up and glaring at Alan. “What the fuck were you thinking? You could have killed her!”

  “I was saving our asses!” Alan said.

  “Gentlemen, we need to get going,” Rorgun said.

  “You shot a cop!” JaQuan shouted, ignoring Rorgun.

  “She was going to arrest us for treason, JaQuan,” Alan retorted. “We’d have been hung or worse.”

  “Oh, bullshit, Alan. There were four of us. She couldn’t have taken us all. She’d have listened to reason.”

  “I don’t think that’s true, JaQuan,” Rischa said. “The look in her eyes said she was perfectly willing to start shooting. If she is as good as she boasted, we might have lost several of us before she could be overwhelmed.”

  JaQuan didn’t disagree. Gwen was a lot of things, but reasonable wasn’t usually one of them. That was how they’d ended up breaking up. She was determined to go through with her moronic plan of enlisting in the Space Rangers.

  But he wasn’t telling his crewmat
es that. They didn’t know her. They had every reason to believe JaQuan could have talked her down.

  And he could have. Right?

  “What could have happened doesn’t matter,” Rorgun said. “We must deal with what did occur. Alan took out the Space Ranger. Now, we need to get back to the lander and get off the station.”

  “Before someone decides to freelance on collecting the reward the senator offered,” Rischa added.

  “We can’t leave her,” JaQuan said.

  “What?” Alan and Rischa said in unison.

  “We can’t leave her,” JaQuan said again, his voice rising. “You saw how they treated humans when we were trying to buy supplies. You saw what Rorgun’s old master did to humans. What do you think will happen to her if someone comes along and finds an unconscious, female human in need of medical attention? And a cop, no less!”

  No one said anything for several seconds. JaQuan glared his determination at them.

  “Oh, fuck you, JaQuan,” Alan said. “Who is this woman?”

  “She’s our fucking problem since you decided to fry her with that damned electroray gun of yours!” JaQuan shouted.

  “Enough, both of you,” Rorgun snapped. “This screaming at each other is going to attract attention we do not need.

  “JaQuan, we cannot bring your friend with us. She’s a Space Ranger, and she has demonstrated her determination to arrest us all. Additionally, whatever relationship you had with her in the past has clearly soured. She is a liability we cannot afford. Time is of the essence. We must get off the station as quickly as possible, and we do not need another complication. Your friend will have to take her chances.”

  JaQuan crossed his arms. He narrowed his eyes.

  “No,” he said.

  Rischa and Rorgun looked on him in surprise. Alan tossed his hands in the air.

  “Are you defying me?” Rorgun asked.

  “I’m not leaving her alone like this,” JaQuan said. “You either help me protect her, or you can try flying back through the Belt yourself.”

  JaQuan’s heart beat wildly. He fixed a stony expression on his face and hoped his bluff would succeed. Rorgun drilled a green-eyed gaze into him. JaQuan didn’t move.

  “Check the other doors,” Rorgun said at last.

  “What?” Alan said.

  “Let’s see if we can leave her somewhere safe,” Rorgun said.

  “For God’s sake,” Alan swore.

  Rischa moved swiftly through the corridor, systematically opening every door in a 100-yard stretch.

  JaQuan looked on Gwen. She was a wreck. Her naturally kinky hair stood on end and smoked from Alan’s electroray blast. Her uniform was scorched where the bolt had struck her. Her face was seized in pain and her eyes squeezed tightly shut.

  But she was still beautiful. Her caramel-colored skin was still soft. Memories flooded him – kissing her, holding her, the way her smile blazed like a star.

  He also remembered all the arguments over human destiny and her desire to join the Space Rangers. Damn but she’d been a pain in the ass.

  “I’ve found a maintenance closet,” Rischa said.

  JaQuan looked towards her. Rorgun crossed the corridor and examined it.

  “It will do,” he said. “Bring her.”

  JaQuan scooped up Gwen, groaning as he got to his feet. Gwen was a lean woman, but she was made of solid muscle. Lying unconscious in his arms, she was dead weight and difficult to manage.

  He stumbled down the hall with her to the door. The closet was tiny and was full of supplies and a few tools. JaQuan set her down as gently as he could, squeezing her into the small space. He tossed her beamer pistol in after her and looked on her for another few seconds.

  “Sorry, Gwen,” he said. “This could have gone down different if you’d been reasonable.”

  He keyed the door shut. Then he turned to Rorgun.

  “Let’s go,” he said.

  “Finally,” Alan said.

  JaQuan rounded on him.

  “If you don’t want me to shove that damned sparkler pistol up your ass like a cattle prod, you better shut your fucking mouth,” he growled.

  “Try it,” Alan replied.

  JaQuan took a step towards him before Rorgun moved between them.

  “Enough,” the first mate said. “We can argue when we’re back aboard Cataan’s Claw. Until then, we need to focus on getting safely off The Outpost.”

  They started moving without another word. JaQuan wanted to beat Alan senseless. He still could barely walk straight, yet there he was threatening JaQuan. Asshole.

  He sighed. Damn Gwen anyway for fucking things up worse than they already were. Of all the Space Rangers in the galaxy, why did it have to be her that found them?

  Idrib hid his surprise at the visit from Emello Miic. His Mandran co-conspirator glided across the room, her red, Kwin Flaal robes flowing gently. Emello’s golden hide accented the robe beautifully, as though God had ordained from her birth that Emello ascend the upper echelons of the Keepers of the Faith. Her white horns gleamed in the artificial light of Idrib’s chamber as she strode directly to Idrib’s liquor cabinet.

  “I thought we had agreed you were not going to see me until the legislation passed,” Idrib said.

  Emello didn’t look at him. She took a crystal decanter of filista, her favorite spirit, from the cabinet, and poured out two measures of the pale-blue alcohol.

  “You’ve altered the plan,” she said, her tone smooth. “That merits a discussion.”

  Idrib snorted.

  “Nothing has changed,” he said.

  “On the contrary, Senator, you have involved the Imperial Entertainment Network. You have turned your daughter’s kidnapping into a galactic sensation. You’ve raised the stakes.”

  Idrib took one step forward and put his hands on his hips. How dare she question him like this?

  “We are playing for the Imperial throne and the future of the Empire,” he spat. “The stakes have not changed, Emello. It is not possible to play for higher stakes.”

  “You of all people should know that’s not true. You were once one of us. Salvation and the lives of God’s people would be considered higher.”

  “Salvation and the lives of God’s people are intertwined with the future of the Empire,” Idrib retorted. “You should know that. The very principles of Imperial law are founded on God’s commands.

  “And I will remind you that I did not leave the Keepers by choice. It was the will of the Hierophant. She asked me to take this role to secure the Imperial destiny.”

  Emello turned and faced Idrib at last. She sipped her drink, then offered a tight smile.

  “You’re not on trial here, Idrib,” she said. “Neither the Hierophant nor the Keepers are displeased with your actions.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  “Because you have altered our initial plan. The kidnappers were to be apprehended quickly, Manifest Destiny’s involvement would be disclosed, and we would gain the support of the Imperial Senate to effect the changes we desire. Instead, the kidnappers remain at large, and you’ve incited a panic in the populace. That changes things.”

  “I do not see how,” Idrib said. “Whether the kidnappers are at large or in custody, it was always necessary for the involvement of the arsolian terrorists to become known.”

  Emello raised her eyebrow at Idrib’s use of the racial slur.

  “Be careful, Idrib,” she said. “Whatever they believe personally, people do not like racists to show their colors openly, especially when the individual is an elected official.”

  “To hell with politic speech. The humans are dangerous. People need to hate them.”

  Emello sipped more of her drink. She swirled the remnants in her glass, and studied the whirlpool.

  “As true as that may be,” she said, “the issue must be approached with caution. A sizeable portion of the population believes them to be the Fourth Race.”

  “There is no Fourth Race!” Idrib p
ractically shouted. “You know it, and I know it, Emello. The Holy Number is Three. There are Three Races, three tiers of government, three Pillars of Society, three ages of galactic history. Even the dirty arsolians understand this. They have three major religions dedicated to worshipping God, and the largest of them canonizes a Holy Trinity of the Godhead.

  “This is why they must be stamped out. They are deceivers, luring people away from the true faith and sowing revolutionary seeds designed to destroy the Empire!”

  “True,” Emello said. She met Idrib’s gaze. “But the Hierophant worries you have lit a fire that will rage out of control. The humans must be purged, and that will require turning popular opinion against them. But to preserve the Empire, to achieve our aims, we must act in an orderly fashion. Chaos is the enemy, Idrib.”

  “The enemy is humanity,” Idrib countered. “The fire I have lit, as you put it, will reduce them to ash.

  “Besides, this works in our favor. The Imperial Senate is a deliberate body filled with myopic fools, who cling too tightly to tradition in the midst of crisis. If there is a true threat of chaos, of the Empire’s end, they will act. We cannot move forward without this legislation passing.”

  Emello swirled her drink again. Idrib waited as she considered his words.

  “All that you say is true,” she allowed. “But how you package your proposal will be critical. You cannot appear to be a human-hater on the floor of the Senate, Idrib. Now that this incident with your daughter has gone public, everything you say will be viewed through the lens of a father whose child was kidnapped by the very race he loathes. If people think you are out for revenge, the motion will not pass.”

  Idrib scowled. Did she think he was some sort of amateur?

  “You act as though I were just elected,” he said. “As though I have no experience manipulating the Senate. I am well aware of how I will be perceived, Emello. I am absolutely counting on the perception you note. I need it to close the deal. Trust me. The Hierophant did not choose me for this role without reason. I am the right Elohiman to fulfill the destiny she has foreseen.”

  Emello threw back the rest of her drink. She turned and placed the empty glass on the cabinet shelf, then faced Idrib again.