“Go take a nap,” said Celeste. “You’ll burn fewer calories and be less hungry.”
Flynn rubbed his arms. “Sure, like I won’t burn them trying to stay warm inside this icicle.”
“I hope they’ll remember to feed Viggo,” said Lizzie. “They probably will, right? I mean, they’re not completely heartless. They could’ve killed us instead of herding us over here.”
“Oh, sure,” said Shady. “They’re real saints.”
Jeth gritted his teeth. If Renford didn’t answer soon he was going to shoot somebody—Yeah, right, using a gun you don’t have. Everything he owned was on Avalon. He’d built his whole life around that ship, only to have a couple of strangers snatch it away.
“It’s true,” Lizzie protested. “They could’ve taken the ship when we first brought them on board.”
“Oh, no they couldn’t,” said Celeste. “They had to earn our trust first. Ain’t that right, Captain?”
“Yeah,” said Shady, turning his one-eyed gaze on Jeth. “How’d Sierra manage to get the jump on you so easy, anyhow?”
Jeth felt a blush threaten to color his face, and he turned toward the comm station. Screw it. He’d just contact Hammer and be done with it. It was better than all this waiting around, wallowing in frustration and guilt. He’d been an idiot. If he’d been less preoccupied with kissing Sierra and more concerned about getting the truth out of her, none of this would’ve happened.
Just as he was about to press the kill switch, the call button started blinking. Someone was finally answering.
Marcus Renford’s face appeared onscreen a moment later. He looked exactly the same as Jeth remembered: thin, with black hair turning to steel.
“Jethro Seagrave,” Renford said, a false smile rising to his lips. “Nice to see you again. Although I’m a bit surprised, to be honest, considering how our last interlude ended.”
Jeth didn’t bother playing nice. He was too cold, too angry, and too desperate for games. “We found the Donerail.”
“I can see that. Judging from your incoming source protocol, I’d say you’re calling from the Donerail.” Renford paused. “But how is it you’re still breathing on a ship that long gone?”
“Maybe because it wasn’t as long gone as you thought. And maybe not everybody on board was dead either.”
“What?”
“That’s right. There were three survivors.”
Renford’s eyes narrowed, the gesture making his face suddenly snakelike. “Who?”
Jeth shook his head, knowing full well those names were the source of his leverage. “First things first. We need your help. We’re stranded just outside the Belgrave. The nav’s down, so not sure where.”
Renford leaned back from the screen. “But where is Avalon?”
“Stolen, by those same survivors. Who I’ll be happy to identify once you pick us up.”
“I see. But why call me? You made it clear you only work for Hammer.”
Jeth gritted his teeth. “I’m reconsidering the situation. I’d like to take you up on your offer. The Donerail for Avalon.”
“But you just said Avalon was stolen.”
Hearing the truth spoken aloud stung, but Jeth ignored it. “So she was, but I know who took her, and I’ve got a pretty good idea of what their next move is. And I’m willing to help you find them. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
“Really?” Renford arched an eyebrow. “That’s an interesting proposition. Tell me, is the rest of your crew still with you?”
Jeth frowned, wondering why it mattered. “Yeah, they are. What of it?”
Renford made a show of examining his fingernails, not answering. “So, you’re offering to tell me everything you know about the Donerail survivors and to track them down in exchange for your ship?”
“Yes, and we want some reassurance that the ITA will protect us from any retaliation Hammer might attempt.”
Renford looked up. “There’s no way I can guarantee your complete safety. Hammer is a powerful man. His criminal network has a far reach.”
Jeth swallowed. He knew this well enough. “All I’m asking is you repair any damage to my ship and give us some cash and supplies to help us stay hidden from Hammer. At least for a while.” Surely there was somewhere in the galaxy where Hammer couldn’t get at them.
“All right. I think I can do that. But on one condition.”
Jeth took a deep breath, trying to keep the exasperation from his voice. “What?”
Renford leaned toward the screen. “I will send a ship to come get you right now, but you must give me the names of the survivors first.”
“How do I know you’ll still come get us once I’ve told you?”
“Simple. I’ve given you my word. And I’m not Hammer Dafoe. Besides, you said you had more information to share. I’m interested in all of it.”
Jeth considered his options. They were just names. He didn’t have to say anything about the Aether Project or that Avalon’s metadrive was failing or about Sierra’s contact on Olympia Seven.
I’ll never go back to Renford, he heard Sierra say once more.
Are you really going to betray her? Betray them?
Jeth steeled himself against the doubt. They’d stolen his ship. They would get what they deserved.
Flynn rubbed his arms. “Sure, like I won’t burn them trying to stay warm inside this icicle.”
“I hope they’ll remember to feed Viggo,” said Lizzie. “They probably will, right? I mean, they’re not completely heartless. They could’ve killed us instead of herding us over here.”
“Oh, sure,” said Shady. “They’re real saints.”
Jeth gritted his teeth. If Renford didn’t answer soon he was going to shoot somebody—Yeah, right, using a gun you don’t have. Everything he owned was on Avalon. He’d built his whole life around that ship, only to have a couple of strangers snatch it away.
“It’s true,” Lizzie protested. “They could’ve taken the ship when we first brought them on board.”
“Oh, no they couldn’t,” said Celeste. “They had to earn our trust first. Ain’t that right, Captain?”
“Yeah,” said Shady, turning his one-eyed gaze on Jeth. “How’d Sierra manage to get the jump on you so easy, anyhow?”
Jeth felt a blush threaten to color his face, and he turned toward the comm station. Screw it. He’d just contact Hammer and be done with it. It was better than all this waiting around, wallowing in frustration and guilt. He’d been an idiot. If he’d been less preoccupied with kissing Sierra and more concerned about getting the truth out of her, none of this would’ve happened.
Just as he was about to press the kill switch, the call button started blinking. Someone was finally answering.
Marcus Renford’s face appeared onscreen a moment later. He looked exactly the same as Jeth remembered: thin, with black hair turning to steel.
“Jethro Seagrave,” Renford said, a false smile rising to his lips. “Nice to see you again. Although I’m a bit surprised, to be honest, considering how our last interlude ended.”
Jeth didn’t bother playing nice. He was too cold, too angry, and too desperate for games. “We found the Donerail.”
“I can see that. Judging from your incoming source protocol, I’d say you’re calling from the Donerail.” Renford paused. “But how is it you’re still breathing on a ship that long gone?”
“Maybe because it wasn’t as long gone as you thought. And maybe not everybody on board was dead either.”
“What?”
“That’s right. There were three survivors.”
Renford’s eyes narrowed, the gesture making his face suddenly snakelike. “Who?”
Jeth shook his head, knowing full well those names were the source of his leverage. “First things first. We need your help. We’re stranded just outside the Belgrave. The nav’s down, so not sure where.”
Renford leaned back from the screen. “But where is Avalon?”
“Stolen, by those same survivors. Who I’ll be happy to identify once you pick us up.”
“I see. But why call me? You made it clear you only work for Hammer.”
Jeth gritted his teeth. “I’m reconsidering the situation. I’d like to take you up on your offer. The Donerail for Avalon.”
“But you just said Avalon was stolen.”
Hearing the truth spoken aloud stung, but Jeth ignored it. “So she was, but I know who took her, and I’ve got a pretty good idea of what their next move is. And I’m willing to help you find them. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
“Really?” Renford arched an eyebrow. “That’s an interesting proposition. Tell me, is the rest of your crew still with you?”
Jeth frowned, wondering why it mattered. “Yeah, they are. What of it?”
Renford made a show of examining his fingernails, not answering. “So, you’re offering to tell me everything you know about the Donerail survivors and to track them down in exchange for your ship?”
“Yes, and we want some reassurance that the ITA will protect us from any retaliation Hammer might attempt.”
Renford looked up. “There’s no way I can guarantee your complete safety. Hammer is a powerful man. His criminal network has a far reach.”
Jeth swallowed. He knew this well enough. “All I’m asking is you repair any damage to my ship and give us some cash and supplies to help us stay hidden from Hammer. At least for a while.” Surely there was somewhere in the galaxy where Hammer couldn’t get at them.
“All right. I think I can do that. But on one condition.”
Jeth took a deep breath, trying to keep the exasperation from his voice. “What?”
Renford leaned toward the screen. “I will send a ship to come get you right now, but you must give me the names of the survivors first.”
“How do I know you’ll still come get us once I’ve told you?”
“Simple. I’ve given you my word. And I’m not Hammer Dafoe. Besides, you said you had more information to share. I’m interested in all of it.”
Jeth considered his options. They were just names. He didn’t have to say anything about the Aether Project or that Avalon’s metadrive was failing or about Sierra’s contact on Olympia Seven.
I’ll never go back to Renford, he heard Sierra say once more.
Are you really going to betray her? Betray them?
Jeth steeled himself against the doubt. They’d stolen his ship. They would get what they deserved.
