Chapter 13

Beta Mensae System GNS Challenger Seven 01/34/42 NR 2010 Hours

“I don’t believe it,” Aaron grated. “Luisa would never do something like this.” He tossed the datapad on his desk and glowered at his investigative team.

Kayla crossed her arms and sighed. “Admiral, for what it’s worth, I didn’t believe it, either.” She waved a hand at the datapad. “But, the evidence speaks for itself. The message from Lovell confirms it – Luisa is our agent.”

The pair had gone over literally every scrap of communications and log data from every ship that had reported to Challenger Seven’s database. As the fleet flagship, that meant every vessel that had come into communications range.

Luisa had been very clever, and very careful, indeed. George had finally uncovered a fragment of a message header that Lovell had transmitted while transiting the 10 Ceti System. The scout’s communications officer had been running a diagnostic program at the time, and the message had not been deleted from the Martian’s workstation queue when Luisa had tried to erase it.

“It makes sense in a way,” George put in. Aaron switched his gimlet gaze to him, and he shrugged uncomfortably. “Send someone through the wormhole with a badly damaged ship, and we’d surely take them in - especially if they were from the Mars Company.”

Aaron sat back and, after a moment, shook his head. “She took all of us, didn’t she?” Kayla’s face flushed, and George looked down at his feet. “Oh, come, now,” Aaron chided, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. “I know when I’ve been had.”

“Sir...” Kayla started.

“Don’t, Kayla.” Aaron’s eyes were hard, and he showed his teeth in a parody of a smile. “We will settle accounts with Miss Luisa McDaniel just as soon as we can get to Twenty-Eight Librae. If she tells the Terrans about the map, we are all screwed. In fact, she may have already told them for all we know.”

George cleared his throat. “What do you want us to do, Admiral?”

Aaron sat upright in his chair. “You two will clean all of this up so we can present it as evidence,” he said in a voice as cold as space. “When we hunt her ass down, you will present it at her trial. Any questions?”

28 Librae System GMS Alan Dean Foster 01/35/42 NR 1015 Hours

“Damn.”

Luisa looked up from her hand comp toward the shuttle’s open cockpit door. The moon slewed in her viewport as the pilot brought the shuttle to a new heading. “What happened?”

“Lovell reports a fire aboard,” the pilot replied tersely. “We’re being redirected to Foster, and we’re about five minutes out.”

“Thank you.” Luisa managed to keep her voice level, but her heart raced. Of course, fires aboard ship weren’t unheard of, but a feeling of dread settled in her bones. “Did they say where the fire was?”

The pilot keyed his mike and spoke too quietly for Luisa to hear. “Accommodations section,” he said a moment later. “We’re on final for Foster now.”

“Thank you,” she replied again. Her mouth was suddenly dust dry, and she fumbled with her hand comp as she tried to slip it into her carryall. Her belongings, including her false ID, were in her quarters on Lovell, but she dared not retrieve them now. Adam’s warning that Sarah had not been working alone tolled in her mind, and she had to get out of the system.

The only way out of the trap the fleeing Genevans had been driven into was through one of the hidden wormholes depicted on the alien map. The UN admiral would no doubt be back with a new force despite the drubbing the original force had taken at 10 Ceti. Aaron’s people would try their best, but there could only be one outcome. Time was running out, and Adam’s team still had no idea where the hidden wormholes were.

Luisa had thought about the situation for hours the prior night. She’d gotten only a few hours of fitful sleep, but she just couldn’t stay at the outpost. She had been lucky the first time, but if another assassin came, or worse, Aaron’s people arrived, she’d have nowhere to run or hide.

The shuttle rolled on its thrusters, aligning itself with the massive transport’s docking ring. Foster’s mountainous side filled Luisa’s viewport, and the craft shuddered gently as the pilot eased the craft sideways toward the waiting airlock. She leaned toward the viewport to watch the docking - and her comm alert buzzed in her ear.

“This is Luisa,” she said as Adam’s image appeared in front of her eyes from the tiny hologram projector looped over her right ear.

“Are you able to talk?” the researcher said without preamble. His voice was calm, but the look in his eyes betrayed his excitement.

A blinking icon in the upper right corner of Luisa’s headset display showed a request for a secure channel. “Not at the moment. Give me fifteen minutes; I’m docking at Foster now. There’s a fire aboard Lovell.”