“Alex!” she said hoarsely, her voice barely a whisper. “What are you doing here?”

  He didn’t answer her, just threw his jacket onto the bed, gathered her in his arms and kissed her. She grabbed at his hair, pulling him down towards the bed. Only at the last moment did he remember where he was and manage to pull himself away.

  “Well, that was worth the wait,” he managed.

  She pushed him back, properly looking at him for the first time. “You look terrible. What happened to you? What’s wrong with your eye?”

  He told her briefly what had gone on, even confessing about how Henenlotter had outsmarted him at the boarding gate.

  “You could have been killed,” she said. “And what happened with your fingers?”

  “I could ask the same about your leg. The nurse did his best but I’m going to need to get them re-set at some point. In comparison to some of the other guys, I got off light.”

  She nodded gravely. “Come and sit down, I want to know everything that’s been going on. I’ve not been able to get in contact with the ship no matter what I’ve tried. They’re all very nice over here but I get the feeling they want to keep me in the dark about what’s really going down.”

  Webster sat down beside her, taking care not to disturb her leg.

  “How long before you’re up and about?” he asked.

  “They reckon a couple of weeks with the bone grafts but I won’t need that long. I can get around pretty good as it is.”

  Webster ran his fingertips over the cast and then allowed them to travel higher, tracing a line over her thigh. Suddenly, he stopped and removed his hand.

  “I should get going. Let you get your rest.”

  She put her hands round his waist and pulled him closer. “Any more rest and I’ll go out of my mind! What I need is some mental stimulation.”

  She pulled herself against him and nuzzled his ear.

  “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” he said, though his own voice had taken on an odd tremulous quality. “Besides, what about the nurses?”

  “They’ll be here at four to give me my meds. They’re very prompt round here. But that gives us plenty of time.”

  She started tugging at his belt and he laughed.

  “I’m not sure this is such a good idea.”

  “Come on. They’re always telling us that if we’re going to get up to anything then we should make sure we don’t do it while we’re on-board ship. This seems like the perfect opportunity, to me.”

  “I’m not so sure,” Webster said coyly.

  “What?” she swung her leg around. “You’re not worried about hurting me, are you?”

  “It’s not you I’m worried about, it’s me. I’ve been beaten up pretty bad.”

  He held up his broken fingers.

  “Don’t worry, commander. I’ll be gentle.”

  *

  Afterwards, Webster dressed quickly and seated himself on the side of the bed, anxious not to arouse suspicion if someone were to suddenly come in. It was a ridiculous situation but he couldn’t help himself. He took the time to fill Silva in on what had been going on both on and off the station since her accident. Silva, for her part, listened with interest.

  “So you met Ardent, then?” she said.

  “Not for long. She was on something of a whistle-stop tour.”

  “What did you think of her? Did you like her?”

  “Like I said, we didn’t have long together but if you’re asking me she seems a little out of her depth.”

  “Hah!” Silva threw up her hands. “Wouldn’t you be? She’s certainly got a hell of a lot going on. It’s not enough that the aliens have attacked, she’s also got to cope with the Guilds trying to tie her hands behind her back.”

  “You’re right. The Guilds seem to be causing most of the problems,” he reached over and gently caressed her foot. “They want a say in everything and it strikes me that this Parnashikan guy is the one calling all the shots. He’s just using her while he gets on with protecting his own interests. Those mercs we ran into were acting on his orders – I’m sure of it.”

  Silva nodded. “I’ve been asking around. The other patients I’ve come across seem pretty well informed. And they all agree with you on one thing: Parnashikan is not to be under-estimated. He’s extremely well connected and if you link that with his enormous personal ambition, well... Blackthorn starts to look more like a steppingstone for his career. He seems quite capable of manipulating this current situation to his own ends and, in doing so, putting countless lives at risk.”

  “But surely, that would fly in the face of all those free trade agreements the station prides itself on? They’re a big part of this station’s economy. How does he intend to overcome those?”

  “I don’t think that our friend Parnashikan is going to let a few trade agreements get in his way. He’s dangerous – it’s as simple as that.”

  “You think he might try and go behind Ardent’s back as far as the Confederation is concerned?” Webster’s voice was full of pained resentment and dull realisation. “Organise his own deal with the Yakutians?”

  “It’s possible. I can’t be sure but he seemed very friendly with their Vice Consul; regardless of what he might say to the contrary. He could put Ardent in a difficult position. The decision to ban all space flights has made her extremely unpopular and if she continues to stick to her guns and refuses to sign up with the Empire the operators may try and leapfrog her completely. If that were the case, then I worry that Parnashikan would be the first person they’d go to. With their backing, he could easily seize power and from there, he could do pretty much whatever he wanted.”

  “What about the other guild leaders, though? Wouldn’t they have something to say about that?”

  Silva snorted at that. “Money is the main source of power down here and, if you think about it, we’re talking about vast sums. If the Yakutians are serious about getting a military toe-hold on Blackthorn then they’d be willing to pay almost anything.”

  Webster rubbed his palm across his forehead. He was the one who seemed suddenly out of his depth. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner. That’s why the Serrayu hasn’t left yet: they’re still hoping they can do a deal.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up,” Silva ran a hand down his arm. “I didn’t see it myself at first and I was part of the negotiating team. It was only later – when I found myself cooped up in here – that I started to put two and two together.”

  “Have you spoken to anyone else about this?” Webster asked. “Does the captain know?”

  “No. Like I said: I didn’t realise what was happening myself at first - I’m still not one hundred percent certain – and even if I could get through to the Mantis I wouldn’t want to say anything over an unsecured line. You never know who might be listening.”

  “This is worse than I thought.”

  “I know. I did have one good idea, though. What about going direct to the governor herself? See what she thinks.”

  “I’d say ‘yes’ but I wonder whether she’ll listen to us. We haven’t got any actual proof of Parnashikan’s wrongdoing.”

  Silva pushed herself up and swung her legs off the bed. “I disagree. You said yourself that he was the one behind all those mercs arriving. He’s trying to sow unrest in a bid to undermine her. All we have to do is prove it.”

  She stood up and slipped off her robe. Her clothes had been neatly folded and placed in one of the drawers. She started putting them on.

  “Parnashikan is getting ready to make a grab for power,” she continued. “That’s why he’s gathering his resources. He’s getting ready for some kind of takeover.”

  Webster went and stood beside her while she got dressed.

  “Again, you’re probably right but you said it yourself: we need proof.”

  She looked defiantly up at him. “And we’ll find it. Grab hold of one of those mercenaries and get him to talk.”

  They both turned at the sound of the door being thrown open. Corporal Jackson was coming through the doorway followed by a second trooper, so tall that he had to crouch to get in. She moved across the room, her hand gripping Webster’s wrist.

  “What the hell…” Webster said, recoiling.

  Jackson raised a finger to her lips, silencing him. The second trooper came around the bed and quickly gathered up Silva’s things.

  Jackson inclined her head towards Webster, speaking in a low whisper. “Sir, your lives are in danger. We have to go, now!”

  Webster hesitated as the other trooper swept Silva up into his arms and then they were all moving for the door.

  Once outside, he expected some kind of explanation but he didn’t get one. Jackson was off and running, pulling him after her. What was most surprising was that the other trooper still managed to keep pace with them, even with Silva in his arms.

  They had just made it through the first set of doors when the main explosion was triggered. The toughened glass took a large part of the impact but not enough to prevent them being hurled the length of the corridor.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Jackson drove, following the directions for the Town Hall. They had no idea whether Ardent would be in her offices but they didn’t care, they were still recovering from the aftereffects of the explosion and it was the only plan they had.

  Webster had expected to take a cab but Jackson’s paranoia had got the better of her, and she trusted no one. She had gone off on her own and then come back behind the wheel of what passed for a family RV on Blackthorn. There wasn’t enough room for Lance Corporal Grimes to sit up front with the rest of them but he seemed happy enough sitting in the back. The three of them looked like a group of scarecrows sitting in the front, covered from head to toe in masonry dust.

  As they drove around the front of the hospital, they could see the piles of rubble from the blast which had fallen into the front carpark, crushing several vehicles. Webster had to crouch down just to be able to see up to the top floor. The middle section of the upper floors were completely missing.

  “I still don’t understand how you knew it was going to happen,” Webster said.

  “Sergeant Markham sent us to keep an eye on you,” Jackson said, all the usual deference forgotten while she attempted to cope with the traffic. “It was Grimes’ idea to use the tracker.”

  “A tracker?” Webster started to examine his clothes, realisation dawning slowly. “Exactly what kind of tracker?”

  Jackson tried to look disinterested. “Oh, you know. The usual kind.”

  “Did it have audio? I mean full audio?”

  “Er, yeah. I guess.”

  Webster’s mind went back to the moment of their reunion.

  “I take it that you heard everything, then.”

  Silva was trying to hide her discomfort.

  Jackson pulled the RV down a side road. “Sir, if we hadn’t, the pair of you would be lying in that car park back there.”

  Webster had no response to that but it still didn’t assuage his anger.

  “So how did you know about the bomb?”

  Jackson indicated behind her. “Well, Grimes – for his sins - is D Company’s bomb disposal specialist. He suspected that the whole thing might be a set-up; that the place might be booby-trapped.”

  “So what did he do? Scan the place?”

  “That’s what he’s good at. Didn’t take him long to track down the bomb either.”

  Webster nodded, taking it all in. “And that’s when you decided to bust the door down.”

  They emerged onto a clear stretch of road.

  “Actually, no. We weren’t sure what to do at first,” she seemed suddenly uncomfortable. “Whether we should – er - disturb you or not. But then the sensor switched from green to red.”

  “Someone had just armed the explosive,” he said.

  “Exactly! Which meant we only had a short time to get you out of there.”

  Webster’s mind went back to the conversation he and Silva had been having at the time. They’d just made the link between Parnashikan and the arrival of the mercenaries.

  It was too much of a coincidence. Someone else had been listening in on their conversation.

  Silva leaned across and squeezed Jackson’s arm. “That was a very gutsy thing you did back there, corporal. Thank you. Thank you so much.”

  Jackson squirmed beneath Silva’s gaze. “Ah, it weren’t nothing.”

  *

  They abandoned the RV a few blocks from the Town Hall and walked the rest of the way. Grimes had brought along a wheelchair he’d taken from the hospital and was very clear that he would be the one pushing Silva along in it, despite all of Webster’s protestations.

  Traffic had come to a complete standstill due to the tide of bodies moving towards the city’s main space port. Ardent may have banned all space flights from leaving but that didn’t seem to have discouraged anyone from thinking that flights would be starting up soon. Quite the reverse, in fact. People seemed convinced that they were all about to be evacuated. An elderly couple passed by clutching some light fittings and a box of bedding. An entire family were attempting to carry everything they owned on an old tabletop. A well-dressed woman rode past on a horse. Jackson stood and gaped. She’d never seen an actual horse before. It seemed to her more wonderful than anything a starship might have to offer.

  The Town Hall was in a state of uproar when they arrived with crowds of people thronging the hallways. Jackson opened the way for Silva to approach the reception desk.

  “We need to speak to Governor Ardent,” Webster said. “It’s a matter of the utmost urgency.”

  The receptionist didn’t even look up from his keyboard.

  “The Governor is extremely busy at the moment,” the man’s tone was flat and lifeless. “She isn’t seeing anyone. Is there anyone else you’d like to speak with?”

  Webster could tell from the man’s attitude that they weren’t going to get anywhere. He decided to try a different tack.

  “Look, I can see you’re busy but could you tell me what exactly is going on?”

  The receptionist stopped typing and looked up, surveyed the crowds on all sides.

  “You haven’t heard? It’s all-over social media. One of the big space liners has announced that she’s departing in the next few hours.”

  Webster looked at Silva who shrugged.

  “How is that possible?” Webster said. “With the governor’s exclusion zone in place, nothing’s getting in or out.”

  “Seems like the captain of The Merry Widow disagrees with you. Says that they can’t hold him against his will. Contravenes his right to trade, or something.”

  “And that’s where all these people are going? Is that it?”

  The receptionist’s expression suddenly softened. “Looks that way. No word yet about ticket prices but you know they’re not going to be cheap. I’d be tempted myself if I thought I could afford it but we both know that’s not going to be possible.”

  Webster thanked him for his time and the four of them drifted across to one of the news screens which was covering the incident. They were showing pictures from the air as a solid wall of people tried to force their way inside the space port.

  “What’s going on?” Webster said. “There’s no way that Ardent’s going to let that thing take-off.”

  “Absolutely,” Silva said. “It would only encourage the others. I don’t know what kind of long-range weaponry the Da’al have at their disposal but if they want an easy target then a cruiser packed with civilians is going to look pretty tempting. Is there any way that this cruiser captain could get clear, if he really wanted to?”

  “It wouldn’t be impossible,” Webster said. “But he’d likely do a lot of damage to his own ship in the process. His biggest problem would be getting clear of the dockside. Grimes, you’re the explosives expert. What do you think?”

  Grimes pulled a face. “They’re attached to the station at six separate anchor points. They could detonate those as a way of freeing themselves but they’d be taking a hell of a risk.”

  “Do you think that’s something they’d actually consider?” Silva asked.

  “No idea,” he said. “But if they’re desperate enough people will try anything.”

  Jackson had drifted off and started talking to someone on her tactical feed. The other three waited for her to finish, watching the images of the crowds at the spaceport. It looked very dangerous and there was a sense that violence could erupt at any moment. After a while, Jackson turned to Webster and offered him an ear bead.

  “Sergeant Markham here, sir,” the tone was curt and business-like. “I have a couple of updates for you, if you’ve a mind.”

  “Good to hear from you, sergeant,” Webster felt uncomfortable about having left him to cover the terminal on his own. “What have you got?”

  “All quiet here, for the moment, sir. Station security has just collected the last remaining mercs and we’re just waiting for the next lot of evacuees to come through. We’re not clear on the numbers just yet.”

  “That’s good to hear.”

  He’d left his platoon in charge of a hundred and sixty prisoners, a ratio of four to one. It was a testament to Markham’s skill that it had all gone off so smoothly.

  “What about the ones still in the elevator?”

  “They were the last to go. And a pretty sorry bunch they were as well. They’d managed to put out the fires but they were in a pretty poor state by the time station security arrived to collect them. But that’s not all - there was something else I thought you might be interested in.”

  “Good news for a change?”

  “Depends on how you look at it, sir. I sent a couple of guys onto the elevator to check that there hadn’t been any surprises left behind. You know, mercs love a good booby trap. Anyways, they came across a couple of trucks belonging to some company: HSR Drilling. Innocent enough until we had a look inside: weapons, attack drones, high explosives, you name it. Enough to start an armed revolt. All of it brand new, most of it still in its boxes.”