Ambasadora (Book 1 of Ambasadora) (26 page)

The glass door remained intact on
this side. Sean tried to pull it open. “It’s sealed.”

Sara shivered from the chilly
night air and the adrenaline pumping through her veins. She studied Sean’s face
for signs of hope, seeing only smudges of ash mixed with dried blood.
“What do we do now?”

“I can get us inside. I
think.” He pulled a razor disc from the inner lining of his belt.

She should be surprised a simple
mech tech would carry such a lethal weapon. She wasn’t. There was no more doubt
in her mind who or what Sean Cryer really was.

A loud hum filled the air. Sara
looked to the sky and saw a huge ship in the upper atmosphere. The glass
rattled in the windows beside of them. “Get down. They’re gonna blow out
like the others.” Sean threw her to the walkway and covered her body with
his.

“The Armadans sent a rescue
ship?” Kenon’s face relaxed. “I’m surprised they even made it into
the atmosphere.”

“Their entry was one of the
big booms we heard earlier, not that we would have noticed with all the
tremors. Alerting the fleet is standard protocol for an accident on the
Tredificio. And this monorail station is their drop off spot.”

“It’s good to have insider
knowledge. Knew you’d come in handy for something,” Geir said.

David’s gaze remained fixed on
the blue lights pulsing around the ship’s immense door frame. Even from
thousands of meters away, he would know that pulse anywhere.

“They can’t land that big of
a ship here,” Kenon said.

“They won’t need to
land.”

The electronic crackle of an
energy well danced in his ears.
Deployment
.

He beamed at the massive field of
circular green energy. At that moment, more than anything he wanted to be
slowly falling through that well. The suppressors made even the heft of an
Armadan’s body light and graceful as a bird.

But, when the first round of
troopers dropped, so did David’s elation…and his stomach. They were armored.
There was nothing standard about that.

Flashes of indigo breast plates
and helmets disrupted the lime-colored walls inside the energy well as Armadan
troopers dropped to the monorail platform as gently as if settling on the ocean
floor. But once clear of the well, the pounding foot falls of armored boots roared
through the station. Mari and Kenon covered their ears. The cadence of a
thousand troopers rushing toward them was deafening. The others must be
terrified. David’s heart was pumping, too.

“What in the world?”
Kenon’s breath came in gasps as he moved to run.

“Stand still,” David
snapped. He motioned to Geir, who grabbed Kenon firmly by the arm to keep
the younger man from bolting.

Only one thing brought out an
armored force. Threat containment.

So much for a rescue.

The lead personnel were on them
in seconds, energy rifles raised. David stared at the figures, standing a few
centimeters taller than he in their heavy boots.

The grey organic-alloy blend of
their armor shifted subtly from indigo to green without aid of outside light.
It was almost form-fitting and extremely heavy, but Armadan bone structure was
twice as dense as that of other citizens. The look of a fully armored Armadan
was intimidating, even to an ex-captain.

A group of six troopers diverged
from the group and headed for David and the others. Geir and Kenon moved back
to where Mari kneeled over Soli. David didn’t flinch.

“Retired Captain David
Anlow.” The voice coming through the helmet was clear and distinctly
feminine.

David turned up the corner of his
mouth in a little smile.
Lovely Lyra.
He never thought he’d be happy to
see her again. This should make things easier, just not with Mari.

“Captain Simpra, it’s good
to see you.” David pictured Lyra Simpra’s blonde hair curling just above
her shoulders behind the opaque face shield and boxy helmet. It was the only
soft part about her.

“I expected to find you, but
not so soon.” Lyra’s tone remained void of emotion or any further
recognition.

That stoicism was why their
relationship hadn’t worked, and why Mari’s tempestuous moods delighted him more
than annoyed him. She knew how to
feel
, and her responses were honest,
not filtered with practiced restraint. When Mari was happy, she was giddy. When
she was pissed, she was adorable.

“How did you know I was
here?” David asked.

“Word came down from the Embassy
that your ambasadora would be attending this event. We have your new ship
docked within the
Protector
.”

“That’s service,” Geir
said with a little laugh and edged closer to David. He seemed to be curious
about a lifestyle he could have had.

“Where is Ambasadora
Mendoza?” Lyra asked.

So much for reminiscing.

“The ambasadora became
separated from our party.”

Lyra cocked her head to the side.
David knew she was giving subvocal orders to her deployment. He’d tried many
times to break her of the tell.

“Sara will be fine with
Sean.” Mari’s voice quavered. “Soli could be dying. She needs
attention right now.”

“My troopers will take care
of her.”

While three of the Armadans
prepared an expandable stretcher for Soli under Mari’s watchful eye, Lyra
leaned toward David. “Just so you know, the contractor waiting on board
your ship is not going to be happy about the loss of the ambasadora. You better
have a good reason why you’re coming back without her.”

“The military is answering
to contractors now?” David asked.

“We answer to the Embassy,
nav leader.” Lyra stumbled over the title like it embarrassed her to use
it. “And any direct representatives of Sovereign Prollixer.”

“With all these troopers
running around, surely you’ll be able to find her for him.”

It wasn’t the news of a
contractor suddenly being assigned to the
Bard
that made David’s eyes
narrow; it was the way Lyra had insinuated that he had left Sara behind. Of
course, Lyra assumed he always left people behind. And, at that moment,
thinking about all the horrors that could have befallen Sean and Sara, he was
beginning to think Lyra was right.

Rainer stared at the small
sparkles in the floor of the
Bard
‘s bridge. Even the utilitarian parts
of this former pleasure cruiser had beauty. The viewer near him came to life as
the passengers returned with their military escort. He knew each of them by
sight. Checking their personal histories had registered as high priority even
before he assigned himself as Sara’s new
bodyguard
.

Prollixer let her walk on here
blind, and she never protested. Rainer suspected the drugs Faya had pumped into
Sara had impaired her rationality. Or perhaps Sara just had a death wish.
Sometimes, when she consumed his thoughts, he feared he could grant that wish
for her.

Kenon Brudger was the first of
the passengers to wind his way through the forest of crystal trees in the
Bard
‘s
foyer. His animated face and sharp hand gestures hinted at a disagreement in
the ranks. Glancing over the young man’s slight build and delicate bone structure
Rainer decided the Brudger family circle specialized in looks and nothing else.

The solid stature of the darker
man directly behind Brudger spoke of a balanced lineage. Geir Shang had Armadan
blood in his veins, but the twinkling eyes and easy smile exuded an overload of
Socialite charm, though his file kept any mention of his Socialite ancestors a
secret.

Rainer barely looked at Boston
Maribu. True Socialite women bored him. And the orange eyes meant she had had a
reaction to the Deleinean vaccine when she was a child. A sure sign of faulty
genes.

His gaze moved past the
Socialites playing at scientists and settled on the navigational leader. David
Anlow’s large presence probably intimidated the other males aboard, though they
would never let him know that. Rainer saw Armadan bulk as a disadvantage. It
made them slower, less agile.

Nothing in David’s past suggested
fragger involvement, and even Prollixer conceded this former captain was no
fragger. Yet, the informer Rainer had tortured earlier insisted an Armadan
aboard this ship held a high position within the techno-militant ranks. Geir
Shang was the only one left. He didn’t fit the profile either, but that
wouldn’t keep Rainer from interrogating him.

Maybe Prollixer’s thoughts on
fragger resistance to torture were truer than expected, though Rainer couldn’t
see how anyone would hold back after that many rounds of blade cuffs. It was
how he had known Sara was telling the truth to Faya.

Thoughts of Sara pushed through
that barrier in his mind where he kept her tucked away. Back on Palomin, when
she was vulnerable and had begged for his attention, he had formed an
attraction for her and her obvious expression of need. He even entertained
thoughts of taking her on as an amour once her contractor training went so
well. Then Prollixer shattered Rainer’s illusion by hijacking her lineage.
Though he never told Sara, there was no doubt in Rainer’s mind that once she
was of no more use to Prollixer, he would use the hijacking to be rid of her.

No matter how deep the
attraction, Rainer would never associate himself with a sterile woman; it could
be grounds for estrangement from his family circle. Still, nightly dreams of
docking with Sara, her once honey-colored eyes sparkling as brightly as her
intra-tat, became false memories, tricks of his psyche. Sometimes he could feel
her wrapped around him, but when he opened his eyes, it was Dahlia or one of
his other amours under him instead.

Memories of seeing David Anlow so
intimate with Sara made Rainer want to draw his cenders as soon as the Armadan
burst onto the bridge and started shouting orders.

“Get off my bridge.”

“Pilots and their
territorial nature.” Rainer remained comfortably seated in the nav chair.
“Stand down, nav leader. This isn’t a battle cruiser. It’s a pleasure
craft.” Then he addressed Captain Simpra. “What’s the situation,
captain?”

“Contractor Varden.”
Captain Simpra stepped forward. “One of the passengers, Solimar Robbins,
sustained critical injuries. My doctors are doing what they can for her in the
Bard
‘s
med facility.”

“Where is the
ambasadora?” Rainer could care less about a Socialite archivist.

No one spoke. Geir Shang lowered
his gaze, and Kenon looked at David. The Armadan’s visage was stone.

“She and another passenger
are still in the Tredificio,” Simpra said.

“You left the most important
passenger you have—”

“I didn’t leave
anyone.” David whirled on Rainer, but the contractor drew his cender and
leveled it at David’s head.

“Your aggressor genes not
all the way turned off?” Rainer asked.

“That’s a myth. Hadn’t you
heard?” David wasn’t backing down.

“I think we need to clarify
the new hierarchy on this ship,” Rainer said. “I don’t know who was
the social director before, but I’m the Embassy’s voice here now.”

The words had their intended effect.
David’s jaw set. Rainer liked to test the tolerance levels of new adversaries.
Little tells while a person was angry or afraid hinted at bigger things to come
later. It offered a view into someone’s mind. That set jaw told him to keep a
close watch on David.

“I was sent from the Embassy
to act as Ambasadora Mendoza’s bodyguard.” It was a half-truth. “She
is my only concern. The rest of you simply don’t matter.” His gaze never
left David’s. For effect, Rainer lowered his cender. The bigger man would never
reach Rainer before he drew again any way. “Captain Simpra, do you still
have personnel searching for her?”

“Yes.”

“She was in good hands
when…we all got separated.” David’s response reminded Rainer of the
typical military drone. No inflection, no emotion, just the facts. Apparently
Rainer had really gotten to him. He was drawing on all of his training and
every drop of restraint to keep from lunging at Rainer.

“And whose hands would those
be?”

“Sean Cryer, another
passenger.”

“The mech tech?”
Rainer’s brows narrowed. “What help could he possibly be?”

Cryer’s personal history read of
extensive academics and Socialite functions, nothing to indicate usefulness in
such a situation. “Most Socialites I know, especially techs, would be
pissing themselves in this situation.”

“Sean’s not just some
Socialite. He’s half Armadan,” David said, crossing his arms in front of
him.

Rainer’s stomach tightened.
Nothing about that showed in his personal history. But, the more Rainer thought
about it, he realized that history was probably fabricated. Too shiny, too
normal—exactly the type of cover an anti-government agitator would use. David’s
arrogant revelation had just signed Sean Cryer’s Writ of Execution.

“Captain.” Rainer
snapped. “I’ll need access to your voyeurs. Transfer a copy of the feed to
the
Bard
.”

“Contractor Varden, we don’t
have—”

Rainer walked up to the tall
woman. “
What
don’t you have, captain? The unsanctioned ability to
take control of every voyeur and mind minstrel within the system for the
Embassy’s purposes or your own? You forget that I’m the Sovereign’s Head
Contractor.”

She took a breath and said,
“You’ll have your feed. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to my
search and rescue.” She didn’t wait for a dismissal.

The part of Rainer that liked life
simple and neat, controllable and predictable, hoped Sara and the fragger
killed one another. But the part of him that saw beauty in complication and
chaos, that part needed Sara to live.

“Armadans,” Sara said.