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  The gunner looked right at Ivan.

  Does this have something to do with me?

  Mission orders rescinded?

  Ivan nodded.

  Whatever was happening here wasn’t routine, and Jordan apparently didn’t like it either.

  What could he do?

  If they were here for him, it was over.

  He watched Captain Scott punch the control, and the hatch opened. There was the clang of feet—many feet—on the metal steps. Then three troopers entered the passengers’ cabin.

  Everyone reacted. Sitting up straight as if in school.

  The old-timer at the front asked again, “What the hell’s going on?”

  But the troopers ignored him. Each had his hand locked on their rifles, as if ready to take the passengers out.

  Then their commander entered. He was smiling.

  Not always a good sign, Ivan thought.

  His stomach tightened. If the troopers were here for him, he was helpless.

  Unless...

  He looked at the troopers, their guns, weighing possibilities.

  If they come for me, do I fight?

  Other people might get hurt.

  The SRV’s gunner now looked at the troopers as if they were hostile invaders.

  “Take it easy, old-timer. McGowan, right? The miner?” the commander said, still all smiles. “No need to worry, folks. We’re here to help.”

  ~ * ~

  11

  COUNCIL’S ORDERS

  Here to help?

  Yeah, right...

  Nahara placed his right hand on his upper leg and squeezed the data crystal in his pants pocket.

  Checking.

  Paranoid now.

  Thinking: Maybe they know!

  How could they have found out?

  I didn’t log out of Humphries’s computer....Anyone with half an ounce of brains or suspicion could search the history and see what I did...the data I downloaded.

  Dead easy.

  A sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead. His paranoia, so obvious, like the slick of oil on his skin when he wiped it with the flat of his hand. He tried to see if any of the troopers were focusing on him.

  He glanced at the miner and saw his obvious reaction: he was pissed at the interruption. Maybe he was anxious to get out of the SRV and stretch his legs. Grab a beer.

  Nahara thought: I need to look... unconcerned.

  The tension inside him was so bad, he wanted to leap up out of his seat and run out the door, screaming: “You got me!”

  How far would he get across the tarmac before they gunned him down?

  And even if he avoided them, where the hell would he go?

  He’d be trapped on this jungle planet.

  Carnivorous plants!

  He felt sick.

  He took a breath.

  Then: No one’s on to me. Humphries is too stupid to suspect a thing. All I have to do is—

  “We have orders to escort you to your final destination—Omega Nine,” the World Council commander said.

  Using his jacket sleeve, Nahara wiped the sweat from his forehead.

  It’s all good...for now.

  ~ * ~

  Annie shook her head.

  “Since when has a commercial passenger coach been important enough to warrant military protection?”

  “We don’t need your protection,” Jordan added.

  “Just following orders, Captain.”

  “Can we talk in the cockpit?” Annie asked, leaning close.

  “No. Your passengers should know what’s going on,” Lahti said, turning around to face the cabin, his smile now faded.

  “You all knew the risks when you signed on to come out here. That goes with the Road. But there have been reports of Runner activity that”—he turned to look at Annie again—”that warrants our protection. I’m sure you can all appreciate the added security of having a World Council troop ship along for the trip.”

  Already Annie felt like this wasn’t her SRV anymore.

  A damned troop ship.

  But what choice do I have?

  “We’ll all be leaving—together—as soon as we refuel and re-ionize the ship’s induction vents,” Lahti said. “So don’t wander too far.” With that, he turned and exited the ship.

  ~ * ~

  “Gage?” Ruth said.

  Ivan turned. The Seeker raced to catch up with him, both with just an hour off the cramped SRV.

  Ivan glanced at the troopers, marching back to their ship in stiff military order. All around him on the tarmac, ground crews and other way station personnel bustled about.

  Half a dozen men tended to the SRV-66.

  Ivan was headed straight for the way station bar. He considered pretending he hadn’t heard Ruth, but then he stopped and turned to face her.

  As he waited for her to catch up with him, he took a deep breath of the planet’s moist, fresh air.

  Dense ... delicious.

  The Seeker—Ruth, he reminded himself—had pulled back her hood ... or it had fallen back—as she ran to catch up to him.

  In the diffused sunlight of Epsilon Two, wreathed by a hazy glow because of the humid atmosphere, he found himself thinking that she wasn’t so bad to look at outside of the dimness of the passengers’ cabin.

  Maybe she was even pretty.

  Too bad she’s one of those religious fanatics.

  “Sorry to bother you, Mr. Gage.”

  “Drop the ‘mister.’ Just Gage,” he said, nodding.

  “Is it really so dangerous? I mean, where we’re going that we need a Council troop ship?”

  “World Council seems to think so.”

  He could see by her expression that his answer didn’t help, and he decided to soften it.

  “Look. Don’t worry. We have a military escort now. So we’re much safer. Besides, the Runners aren’t the savages the media make them out to be.”

  “My ... brother says they’re nothing but a bunch of bloodthirsty pirates.”

  He caught the way she hesitated before saying the word “brother.” That hinted at... something ... some disconnect.

  Thinking: She has secrets, too.

  “He ever meet one? A Runner, I mean. Face-to-face?”

  Ivan smiled at the irony because here she was, talking to the Runners’ leader.

  Former leader, that is.

  “I... I assume he has,” Ruth said. “He left home years ago and has been on the Road for a long time.”

  “Well, let me tell you one thing,” Ivan said, stepping closer to her. “In my opinion, they’re fighting for one thing and one thing only.”

  “And that is ... ?”

  “Freedom of the Roads. For everyone. I would think you, especially—”

  He took a step back and regarded her with a long, sweeping glance from head to foot.

  “—as a Seeker, would appreciate and support what they do.”

  “But they’re cold-blooded killers, too,” she said. “I can’t support violence.”

  “And what the World Council does is okay with you?”

  Ivan sensed his control slipping.

  Could make a mistake here.

  Got to drop my support of the Runners. And fast.

  He shot a glance over his shoulder and saw the neon lights of the restaurant and bar. Its name was far out.

  But clichéd name or not, if he was lucky, they either had some very fresh beer or some very old whiskey.

  “Now, if you don’t mind, Ruth.”

  Enough Seeker philosophy for now...

  “I want to grab myself a drink or two before we hit the Road again. And when I drink alone, I prefer to be by myself.’

  With that, he turned and walked away.

  But all the while, he was aware of her gaze fixed on his back until he opened the door and entered the bar.

  ~ * ~

  12

  ON THE ROAD A
GAIN

  Ivan watched the female bartender pour the brown near-bourbon—no one could make a profit bringing real bourbon all the way out here—with the enthusiasm of a lifer working a prison cafeteria’s creamed corn station.

  Definitely not enjoying her work.

  He spent a few seconds looking at her face. How did they get her to come out here?

  Hopeless life on Earth? Promises of bounties, bonuses?

  Maybe she just didn’t care. A lot of people didn’t these days.

  Her eyes looked at the glass as she put it down, but they might as well have been looking miles away.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  The woman nodded automatically.

  Then someone took the stool next to him.

  The old guy... the miner.

  “What he’s having, please.”

  The bartender went to search for another glass.

  Ivan sensed that the miner, elbows on the bar, was looking at him.

  “Some kind of shit, huh?”

  Ivan turned to the old guy.

  The miner, probably a pro when it came to numerous Road trips, had slept most of the first stage of the journey.

  Now, with a bar on offer, suddenly... he came to life.

  “Meaning...?”

  “Troop ship? Escort? What the hell’s up with that bullshit?”

  His glass appeared in front of him, and he took a big gulp.

  “Doesn’t make any sense to me,” he continued, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

  Me as well, Ivan thought.

  But he said: “Who knows. Maybe there are Runners ahead. Maybe it’s no big deal.”

  The miner narrowed his eyes and shook his head. Then extended a hand. “McGowan.”

  They shook hands.

  “Gage.”

  The miner held the shake longer than maybe he should have, and looked into Ivan’s eyes.

  A pro.

  Someone who met lots of types on the road.

  Maybe he can detect someone who’s lying?

  “I’m thinking there’s something else going down. Don’t know what, but—”

  McGowan killed the glass and tapped it against the metal counter.

  “Another, miss”

  Hard worker, hard drinker.

  Suspicious, too.

  “My guess is they’re escorting us for some other reason.”

  Another slug. “And you know, Gage—”

  Why the emphasis on my phony name?

  “That makes two strange things that have happened so far this trip.”

  “Two?”

  “Picking up you—and now this.”

  The man smiled, and his thick mustache curled up on either side of his mouth, almost touching the corners of his eyes.

  “Kinda makes one wonder.”

  Ivan was about to say that his being here had more to do with his engine shitting the bed than anything else.

  And how could that be connected with the troop ship escort?

  Except—even he had to wonder.

  Once the World Council knew he had been picked up, that his mission for them might be in danger of being compromised, did they decide to provide a little extra insurance to guarantee he would actually make it to Omega Nine?

  Because they definitely wanted that... some of them, anyway.

  “I doubt that. See, when my Solo—”

  “Attention. Passengers of SRV-66. Your Road ship is now boarding at gate four.”

  The voice over the speakers echoed in the wide, open area of the way station, girded with shops filled with the bare essentials and one odd kiosk selling souvenirs.

  Why would anyone want a souvenir of this place?

  Ivan looked around and saw Jordan in the doorway. He was expressionless as he came forward.

  “We’re heading out. Everybody on board—now!”

  Ivan saw McGowan eyeing his near-empty glass number two. Maybe considering another?

  Instead, the miner downed it and slid off the stool. He took some Council credits from his pocket and dropped them onto the bar beside his empty glass.

  “Guess like a lot of things about the Road,” the old man said, “we may never know.”

  As McGowan headed back to the SRV, Ivan sat at the bar for a few more seconds. He considered offering Jordan a drink, but Jordan didn’t look like the kind of guy who would open up, even after a few.

  But that old-timer McGowan had him thinking....

  ~ * ~

  Annie watched the passengers file in while Lahti checked a screen showing the freight manifest.

  “Okay. Mighty full load there, Captain. Slowing you down at all?”

  Annie shook her head.

  The air here was so dense with moisture, like having a hot, wet woolen scarf wrapped around your face.

  Might be good for the complexion, but it wasn’t the easiest stuff to breathe.

  “Got plenty of power. No problem.”

  Lahti nodded and lowered the screen.

  “We’ll take the lead. You follow. We see anything ahead, we talk.”

  Annie scratched her head, pushing a strand of hair to the side.

  She wanted to ask the commander what this was all about.

  Runners? Really?

  The Runners could show up anywhere. In front or behind. What made this route suddenly so dangerous?

  “You’re in charge,” she said grudgingly. “We’ll watch our screens, too.”

  Lahti opened his mouth—probably about to say, no need for that.

  Instead: “Let’s get going.”

  Annie nodded and followed her passengers into the SRV.

  ~ * ~

  Nahara had stopped at the top of the stairs that led to the passenger compartment.

  Watching.

  The captain and Lahti.

  What the hell are they talking about?

  Sharing goddamned secrets?

  He rubbed his chin.

  Then told himself: Get a grip.

  He started down the aisle, back to his seat. His nose was filled with the sour smell of his own sweat.

  ~ * ~

  Jordan sat in place at the console. Ready. As always.

  “Learn anything?” he asked.

  “Yeah. That there are”—Annie let her voice mock Lahti’s—”reports of Runners ahead.”

  Jordan glanced at her. Then went back to his readouts.

  “You don’t buy it?”

  “Do you?”

  Jordan didn’t answer.

  She shook her head. “Not much we can do about it, though. Is there?”

  “Exactly.”

  Lahti’s voice filled the cockpit.

  “Ready for portal approach, Captain. Give yourself some distance for any maneuvers we may need to do after transit.”

  “Right, Commander.”

  She couldn’t bring herself to say “sir.”

  The troop ship jets on the side began to fire, the blue flames almost invisible in the humid air.

  The ship’s massive wheels had been tucked into the undercarriage of the gun-filled ship. Now the giant wheels lowered, the noise massive even inside the sealed compartment of the SRV.

  A few troopers sat in turrets on either side, ready for anything once they went through.

  The whole thing ... something to see.

  Then, almost as if the troop ship was some impossibly enormous truck, it began rolling along the entrance ramp.