He visualized Hutch and Antonio scrambling on board, looking around doubtfully at the makeshift shielding. Then Jim alerted him that the lander had sealed. The vehicle made its exit and started back. Moments later the McAdams took it aboard.

JON WAITED BELOW in cargo, watching it come in. He couldn’t see into the vehicle because of the shielding he and Matt had welded around it. As soon as it had cleared the launch doors, he closed them. It eased into its berth, and he started the pressurization procedure. It would take about two minutes before they could leave the passenger cabin.

Except that the shuttle opened up immediately. Antonio was wearing an e-suit. He jumped down from the lander, looked around, and spotted Jon. He literally bolted in his direction. There was no sign of Hutch.

He was carrying something. A piece of cloth, looked like.

Jon started to wave, and mouthed hello. Was going to add Glad to see you. But he shook his head, no time.

Jon glanced back at the lander. Nobody else was getting out. Antonio unraveled the cloth and held it up for him. A message was scrawled on it: GET GOING. PRESTON ABOUT TO BLOW.

He shook his head. That couldn’t be right. Again he tried to form words that Antonio could read. What’s going on? What do you mean?

The journalist looked directly into his eyes and opened his mouth to form one unmistakable word: Boom.

That was enough for Jon. He got on the allcom, the ship’s internal communication system, which Frank couldn’t intercept, and called the bridge. “Matt.”

“They okay, Jon?”

“Antonio says there’s a bomb ready to go off over there. Move out.”

“What?” He added an expletive. “Tell him to grab hold of something.” The main engines came online.

Jon gave a thumbs-up, and Antonio tried to hurry back to the lander, where he could belt down and ride out the acceleration. But the ship was already moving, turning away, power building in the engines. Jon clung to a safety rail, while Antonio lost his balance and slid aft, into storage, where he grabbed hold of a cabinet door handle.

He looked again around the launch bay. Where was Hutch?

LIBRARY ENTRY

When you went away,

The stars and moon,

The voices in the tide,

The kivra gliding above the trees,

All were lost.

—Sigma Hotel Book

chapter 39

JON LOOKED DISMAYED. “Matt,” he said, “stay off the commlink. Don’t try to talk to him.”

“Why?”

“Because it might be overheard.”

“Well, if that critter hasn’t figured out by now that something’s wrong, it’s pretty dumb.” But he complied. At the moment there was nothing to be gained by talking.

Just clear out.

He couldn’t go to maximum thrust, with people running around the launch bay. But he put on as much acceleration as he dared. A few bumps and bruises were better than getting caught in an explosion, and who the hell’s idea was it anyhow to plant a bomb on board the Preston? “Jon, how much time do we have?”

“Don’t know.” Jon grunted, straining to hang on to the bar.

“What kind of bomb?”

“Don’t know that either.”

“What do we know?”

“Matt,” he said, “I haven’t seen Hutch yet.”

The AI cut in: “Electrical activity’s picking up.”

They were going to get another bolt up their rear ends. He turned onto a new course. Jon grunted but hung on. Starships weren’t like aircraft. Not nearly as maneuverable, because you don’t have an atmosphere to help you do flips and turns. All Matt could do was roll around and fire attitude thrusters.

“I think we’ve got another eye forming.”

“Not surprised.” He changed course again. And fired braking rockets.

“Hey.” Jon did not sound happy. “What are you doing?”

“Two of them, in fact. No, three.”

“It’s getting ready to shoot at us, Jon. I guess it’s figured out—”

The sky flared.

“Close,” said Jim. “Building again.”

He angled off in another direction and heard Jon yell. Heard something crash.

“Sorry. Can’t help it.”

“Do what you have to.”

Another bolt ripped past. It illuminated the hull and was gone.

At the same instant the sky behind them exploded.

“That was the Preston,” said Jim.

He turned again. And took her hard up.

Lightning rippled across the screens. They went off momentarily, and came back. He could smell something burning. “Jim?”

“We’re okay. Best not to get hit again, though.”

“Okay. I’ll see what I can do.”

“It appears the Preston’s engines went. I do not think much will be left.”

“Jon—”

“Still here.”

“Any sign of Hutch?”

“Hard to see from down here.”

“You’re on the deck?”

“Another one building, Matt.”

It had begun trying to outguess him. This time he stayed on course. Just kept piling on distance.

The sky brightened again.

“Matt,” said Jim, “we should be out of range in about a minute.”

Matt didn’t believe it. “How do you get out of range of a lightning bolt?”

“You become a small enough target that it’s virtually impossible for the cloud to mount an accurate strike.”

“Okay.” He would have liked to ease off a bit, but he didn’t dare, and in fact it took all his discipline not to go to full thrust. But neither Jon nor Antonio and maybe not Hutch would have survived. “Jon, how you doing?”

“No sweat, Matt. The bone’ll set in thirty days.”

He opened the commlink. It didn’t much matter if they were overheard now. “Antonio, how about you?”

“I’m all right,” he said.

“Where’s Hutch?”

Her voice came through: “I’m here. In the lander.”

“You okay?”

“I’m fine.”

The sky brightened again. Less intense this time.

“What did you do?” he demanded.

“Pretty dumb. I trusted that thing. I still don’t believe it.”

“I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about the bomb.”

“Going up again, Matt.”

“Why the bomb? Why’d you do it?”

“I wasn’t going to allow that damned thing to take my ship.”

“You put us all in danger.”

“I know.”

Jim broke in: “We are getting a transmission from Frank.”

“Okay. Let’s hear what it has to say. Hutch, you still there?”

“I’m here. You’ve been talking to Frank?”

“Yes. Good old Frank.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I never kid. Put him on, Jim.”

But there was only the whisper of the stars.

“It was here a moment ago, Matt.”

“I am here now.” Matt’s own voice again. Sounding angry. Or maybe hurt. Disappointed. “You broke your engagement.”

“Promise. It’s called a promise.”

“Nevertheless, am I not able to trust you?”

“What was the promise?” asked Hutch.

Another bolt rippled through the sky, far away.

Matt’s voice responded: “Who is that?”

“I’ll tell you who, Frank. I’m the person who’s been blinking lights at you the last few days. The one you tried to kill a few hours ago.”

“Priscilla Hutchins. From the Preston.”

“Yes. I was her captain, until you took us down.”

“I am not familiar with the phrase.”

“Until you seized my ship. Is that clear enough for you?”