Darklight Pirates
Chapter Ten

“A drone! It’s picked us up.” Kori Tomlins peered over Sean Scarlotti’s shoulder and then tapped the flight collision warning light. “We’ve got to go lower and evade it.”

“Let him pilot, Mama.” Bella tried to pull her mother back, but Kori violently shoved her daughter away.

“You don’t understand anything,” Kori said. She had no idea which of them she spoke to. Both? Having an affair meant both were empty between the ears. Scarlotti was too old for Bella, and her daughter had led such a sheltered life that she had no idea about what such a liaison meant for the rest of her life. She jeopardized her tenure as Programmer General for a minor bureaucrat like Sean Scarlotti?

“That’s an aircraft guidance drone, not anything for us to worry about.” Scarlotti eased the carrier lower, though, until they skipped across the tops of the highest waves. Every touch caused the small craft to buck and yaw as salty white spray hammered against the windshield. “When I heard what Weir intended, I flew straight for Emerald Isle.”

“They can see us from the orbital sats.”

“Probably,” Scarlotti said. His matter-of-fact answer infuriated her further.

“You’re going to get us killed.”

“I’m open to suggestions. This carrier is running short of fuel sooner than I expected. Too much weight.”

“What are you going to do, CIO? Throw me out so you and Bella can fly off into the sunset?”

“Mama.”

“Shut up. Your savior is flying us to our death.” Kori saw the heading and knew Scarlotti took them to his summer home on the rocky coast northwest of the capital. They would be within fifty kilometers of the major military base at Cork.

“You’ll be safe at my home for a few hours while I lay a false trail. Weir thinks he knows how to use the Blarney Stone. I can sabotage some of his subroutines and cause enough trouble that he has to tend to it before hunting for you and Bella. If he doesn’t, he will lose control of the entire border with Uller.”

“Can he do that? Distract Weir enough?” Kori glared at her daughter, demanding an answer.

Bella stayed silent. This confirmed what Kori thought. Scarlotti was an amateur and dipped into a vast ocean with only a teaspoon of wit and even less ability. She settled in the rear of the carrier, crushed against her daughter. Bella glared at her, so she ignored her. Weir had to be stopped. The time for this was now, before he consolidated his power. If the Shillelagh had been destroyed, it was at Weir’s hand. Starships were most vulnerable during the Lift phase and especially when they left StringSpace in a Drop. Transit time was tiny, if done right. If the captain and navigator made a serious mistake, the time passage could be extreme. Scientists theorized that ships lost in StringSpace might appear hundreds of years in the future, though not a single ship had returned after being more than a few days overdue. But the explosion told the real story. Weir wasn’t the sort to depend on chance. He had sent a warship from the orbital station to blow up the Shillelagh.

Donal was lost. Cletus was lost. And Weir seized power in such a way that most citizens would never understand. If daily life remained unaffected, what did anyone care who put on the control helmet and ran everyday life?

“Are you going to the capital?”

“What’s that?” Scarlotti leaned back to better hear over the rush of air and the harsh splatter of seawater against the windshield.

“Divert and go directly to the capital. I have to organize opposition to Weir before he gains complete control.”

“He has to break the firewall on the control algorithm before he becomes a real threat. Papa was the best programmer ever. Weir can never do it.”

“Bella, Bella, listen to yourself.” Kori made a dismissive gesture. “Given time, even Weir can break the CA and replace it with his own. This is why we have to organize against him now.”

“But without access, he--”

“Bella,” she said sharply. “The CA gives complete control. Weir is able to run most things without cracking the code. Your father let him run day to day tasks, after all. If we don’t stop him, no one will. No one will even know.” She sank back and fumed. No one knew or cared that a revolt had occurred. The new regime would become increasingly autocratic and no one would care.

No one except her.

“There is a security alert in the capital,” Scarlotti shouted back over the rush of wind. “Trying to enter, even with my high security pass code, will be suicidal.”

"Because of your code,” Kori said. “You’re a marked man. If you monitored the official news channel, you’d find you’ve already been replaced. Possibly with an explanation, but more likely none was given. You know why that’s so, Sean? Because your job isn’t important.”

“Mama, he--”

“He’s a propagandist. A puppet doing what he’s told by whoever’s in charge.”

“I didn’t have to risk everything to get you off the island,” Scarlotti said, his face florid now with anger. “You should be grateful I dropped everything and flew directly there or the commandos would have murdered you by now.”

“I’m grateful, Sean.” Bella reached forward to put her hand on his shoulder. Kori batted it down.

“Thank him when he’s taken us somewhere safe. That’s not your house, Scarlotti. We have to go somewhere else, somewhere Weir won’t expect us.”

“The fuel is almost gone. We either crash at sea or land at my home.”

“How long before Weir can bring the ground forces at Cork against us?” She looked at her daughter. Bella had spent more time poking about in the control algorithm than anyone but her father. Some data must have seeped into her silly head as she played with running the Blarney Stone. If it hadn’t, they were in worse danger than she believed.

“Once alerted, they can be at Sean’s house within two hours. If the troops weren’t already on alert, it might take three hours.”

“Does he have a ground car?” Kori found it harder to even speak Sean Scarlotti’s name. He took them straight into a trap, whether he admitted it to himself or not.

“Several. But, Mama, where do we go? The house is a hundred kilometers from the capital. The nearest town is Eastminster.”

“There. We can disappear there. It’s big enough.”

“There are several hundred thousand residents,” Bella said.

“We can disappear in a city that size. We need to recruit a solid cadre to fight Weir. There’s a university at Eastminster. Students will be easy sources of both expertise and a way to find those who will protect us.”

“Papa always worried about the Lost Generation movement. They think they’ve been passed over in both education and opportunity.” Bella frowned. “Papa thought they were closer to becoming violent than any other protest group.”

“Then we find them and organize opposition,” Kori said. “We can expand to the university later, once we have the Lost Gens under our thumb.”

“That’s a big step to take. What makes you think they’ll accept you when they were formed to oppose Papa?”

“Revolutionaries only want to revolt. Give them a strong leader and they’ll destroy anything in front of them. All we have to do is be certain they are pointed in the direction we want.”

“You, Mama? You’ll be the strong leader?”

Kori slapped her when she laughed.

“Someone has to keep the memory of your father alive.”

The argument died when the carrier dropped with stomach-churning suddenness and skidded along, coming to a halt only a few meters from a seawall.

“We ran out of fuel sooner than I thought. We’re about a kilometer from the house.” Scarlotti popped the doors, letting in cold, wet sea air. “Get out and I’ll push the carrier out of sight if they use drones.”

“Of course they’re using spy drones.” Kori snorted in disgust at the man’s naivete. She dropped to the uneven ground. She swallowed hard when she saw how close they had come to smashing against the seawall. Another few meters and the carrier would have been crushed into an accordion, both in shape and length.

The wind whipped her long red hair into a banner that fluttered and snapped. Kori turned and faced the wind, closed her eyes and let the bracing cold invigorate her. Her determination hardened. Life with Donal had been trying, and she had never settled gracefully into the life as wife of a man joined body and mind to his job. Purpose surged in her now. She had loved him. She would bring down the man who had assassinated him.

“Help me push the carrier into the water.”

She opened her eyes and turned slowly to deny Scarlotti this small bit of aid. Her ire grew when she saw he spoke to Bella, not her. The two of them hunkered down, put their shoulders to the prow of the carrier and began applying all their strength against it. The landing wheels turned slowly at first, then dropped off the side of the composite walkway where Scarlotti had landed. The carrier tumbled down the slope into the ocean, where it caused a small splash and then half submerged in the surf.

“The drones will spot it,” Kori said, looking down at it and guessing what an aerial surveillance drone would see from five hundred meters above.

She spoke to empty air. Both Scarlotti and her daughter had run along the path, going through a break in the seawall, toward the distant house perched on a promontory. Kori hesitated going after them. If she left now, Weir’s commandos would eliminate both Scarlotti and Bella. By the time they came from Emerald Isle or, more likely, rallied the soldiers at Cork, she could be in Eastminster seeking Lost Gen agitators or another group to oppose the government. She even took a step down the path away from the house, then reconsidered. Bella knew the Blarney Stone and might even open the control algorithm to reprogramming. Her father had been teaching her to take over from him. Was the CA the last thing he would have shown her or the first?

Kori reversed her direction and walked quickly after the others, cursing under her breath. Bella was her daughter, and leaving her behind was wrong. With luck, Scarlotti would sacrifice himself to save Bella, giving her and her daughter a chance to get away when the military arrived. And they would. Weir dared not let her and Bella reach a newser if he didn’t control the entire news distribution. One thing Donal had insisted on was press uncontrolled by the master computer. That had bothered her but now looked to have been a smart move--if she could contact any reporter not beholden to Weir.

She reached the front door, left standing half open. She started to push it all the way open, then froze. She took a deep breath and caught the hint of burned carbon composite armor. She listened hard but heard nothing of Bella and Scarlotti. They would be making all kinds of ridiculous noises, her daughter congratulating the man she loved for being so forthright and brave. Kori backed away, then slipped along the front wall of the house. She pressed her fingers against it. Fake stone. Scarlotti didn’t even invest in the real item. The plastic looked right but felt wrong.

Just as the open door and lack of sounds from within had felt wrong.

Kori chanced a quick look around the side, then ducked back. A strong breeze blowing off the sea caused her hair to flutter. She caught it in one hand and tucked it under her collar before chancing a second look. An armored soldier stepped into view, scanned the region at the side of the house, then stepped back into cover.

Weir had sent his killers here immediately. Any time Scarlotti had hoped for to gather their senses and supplies was gone.

She stood frozen with indecision. Escape made sense. The soldiers had already taken Bella and Scarlotti prisoners. She could do nothing to save her daughter from armed troops, even if she had a weapon. Being at the summer house as she had been, she had no reason to go about armed, and she sought the weapon she had taken from the safe room. Somewhere she had dropped it. That doomed her daughter now. The best she could hope for was to get away, then barter for Bella’s life later, though that seemed a dim prospect. Weir wouldn’t leave loose ends after killing Donal and Cletus.

She knew going down the side yard to the seawall only brought her trouble. The guard actively scanned or possibly received constant updates from monitors hidden across the yard. How she had approached on the main walk without being caught made her frown a moment, unless Scarlotti occupied his captors and had distracted them. Retreating that way was out of the question.

The salt-laden wind picked up, making her shiver. Not only had she left without a weapon, her thin clothing did nothing to protect from the increasingly damp, cold breeze. She stepped a pace from the house and looked up at the upper stories. Anywhere on the grounds meant capture or death. The best defense was always a good offense. She moved along until she found a portion of the faux rock front that had come unfastened after years of onslaught from the sea. Working her fingers under the edge pried it away enough for her to make a toehold. The facade gave her enough support to pull herself up and drive her toe into the shallow depression.

From here it was a matter of being careful not to make too much noise or fall as she worked to a second story window. Entry here would be unexpected. She pulled herself up to peer into the room. Darkness hid the room’s purpose. It might be a bedroom or a study. She got the sense of coziness, as if it was small. A second quick peek confirmed her guess. The door from the room into the hallway beyond stood open now, letting in a sliver of light.

The door hadn’t been open before. She knew that. Trying to edge along the dubious edge atop the false rock would land her in a heap below. She had to chance this window or give up and attempt entry elsewhere.

But the door. Had someone entered the room or had they left?

She decided to try the next window when the rock facade began to give under her weight. Her fingers strained to get a decent grip on the windowsill. When her right hand secured her weight, she ran her left hand under the window. Like the front of the house, the wooden window was actually textured plastic. She ran her fingers back and forth until she found a nick at the bottom. Clenching her teeth, she rammed her fingers into that small crack, then heaved so hard she almost lost her balance.

The window opened a centimeter. She felt the rush of wind from her back into the room. Anyone laying in wait would feel the blast of air. Listening hard, she heard nothing, either in the room or the hallway beyond. Working her fingers under the window, she pried it up until she opened it far enough to pull herself up and flop through onto the floor. Kori wanted nothing more than to lie there and regain her breath. Her heart hammered, and the pulse in her neck warned of an explosion.

She knew better than to rest. She reached over and pulled down the window. The fresh air in the closed-in house would be noticed. The soldier she had spotted had worn armor but not full breathing gear. They weren’t worried about poisonous gas but wanted to protect against a laserifle blast. Unless a special unit accompanied the squad, narco gas was out of the question. Still, dealing with an armored, armed soldier was dangerous when all she had were her wits.

Her priority was to get a weapon suitable for attack, then find Bella and get away.

She came to her knees and looked around. Her guess proved accurate. A study. The walls were covered with darkened viewscreens. On hands and knees she went to the desk positioned to face the screens and not to see out the window at the panoramic view of the sea and found the right-hand drawer. If Scarlotti kept a weapon, it would be where he could reach it quickly. Kori stifled a cry of triumph when she found a small lasepistol.

She grabbed it, whirled about and sat with her back against the desk. She looked out the window at the rain beginning to pelt against the seaward side of the house. Rain worked in her factor. The soldiers’ sensors would be confused by the half-frozen rain, giving her and Bella a slim chance of escape.

It was quite a ways to Eastminster in the rain, but her odds improved second by second. She thumbed the lasepistol into its charging cycle. When the small green light on the butt popped on, she was armed and deadly.

Still on hands and knees, she went to the door and peered out. A soldier stood at port arms at the head of a staircase leading to the foyer. The lasepistol was deadly. That soldier’s laserifle was a real weapon. She steadied her hand against the doorframe, took aim at the soldier’s eye and touched the firing trigger. A thin lance of greenish blue stabbed out.

The soldier crumpled without making a sound. Kori pushed open the door and stayed low as she hurried to the dead trooper. She pried the laserifle free and pressed the charging stud. Nothing happened.

“It was keyed to the soldier so the rifle would be useless if an enemy picked it up.”

At the words, she flopped onto her back and used her pistol. The beam splashed off chest armor. Then the pistol clicked off, needing to recharge. She dropped it to the floor and raised her hands. In addition to the soldier who had spoken to her, three others had their laserifles trained on her.

Kori had no doubt these keyed weapons pointed at her head had all been activated.

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