Borders of Infinity

'Hungry,' Taura gasped.

'Again? But of course, all that energy expenditure. Anybody got a ration bar?' A quick check found an only-slightly-nibbled rat bar in the stunned trooper's thigh pocket, which Miles immediately liberated. Miles smiled benignly at Taura as she wolfed it down; she smiled back as best she could with her mouth full. No more rats for you after this, Miles promised silently. Three steak dinners when we get back to the Ariel, and a couple of chocolate cakes for dessert. . . .

The float-truck jinked. Taura, reviving somewhat, extended her feet to hold Nicol's dented cup in place against the far wall and keep it from bouncing around. 'Thank you,' said Nicol warily. Taura nodded.

'Company,' Bel Thorne called over its shoulder. Miles hastened forward.

Two aircars were coming up fast behind them. Ryoval's security. Doubtless beefed up tougher than the average civilian police car– yes. Bel jinked again as a plasma bolt boiled past, leaving bright green streaks across Miles's retinas. Quasi-military and seriously annoyed, their pursuers were.

'This is one of Fell's trucks, we ought to have something to fling back at them.' There was nothing in front of Miles that looked like any kind of weapons-control.

A whoomp, a scream from Nicol, and the float truck staggered in air, righted itself under Bel's hands. A roar of air and vibration– Miles cranked his head around frantically—one top back corner of the truck's cargo area was blown away. The rear door was fused shut on one side, whanging loose along the opposite edge. Taura still braced the float chair, Nicol now had her upper hands wrapped around Taura's ankles. 'Ah,' said Thorne. 'No armor.'

'What did they think this was going to be, a peaceful mission?' Miles checked his wrist comm. 'Laureen, are you in the air yet?'

'Coming, sir.'

'Well, if you've ever itched to red-line it, now's your chance. Nobody's going to complain about your abusing the equipment this time.'

'Thank you, sir,' she responded happily.

They were losing speed and altitude. 'Hang on!' Bel yelled over its shoulder, and suddenly reversed thrust. Their closing pursuers shot past them, but immediately began climbing turns. Bel accelerated again; another scream from the back as their live cargo was thus shifted toward the now-dubious rear doors.

The Dendarii hand stunners were of no use at all. Miles clambered into the back again, looking for some sort of luggage compartment, gun rack, anything—surely Fell's people did not rely only on the fearsome reputation of their House for protection. . . .

The padded benches along each side of the cargo compartment, upon which Fell's guard squad had presumably sat, swung up on storage space. The first was empty, the second contained personal luggage—Miles had a brief flash of strangling an enemy with someone's pajama pants, flinging underwear into thruster air-intakes —the third compartment was also empty. The fourth was locked.

The float truck rocked under another blast, part of the top peeled away in the wind, Miles grabbed for Taura, and the truck plummeted downward. Miles's stomach, and the rest of him, seemed to float upward. They were all flattened to the floor again as Bel pulled up. The float truck shivered and lurched, and all, Miles and Taura, the unconscious trooper, Nicol in her float chair, were flung forward in a tangle as the truck plowed to a tilted stop in a copse of frost-blackened scrub.

Bel, blood streaming down its face, clambered back to them crying 'Out, out, out!' Miles stretched for the new opening in the roof, jerked his hand back at the burning touch of hot slagged metal and plastics. Taura, standing up, stuck her head out through the hole, then crouched back down to boost Miles through. He slithered to the ground, looked around. They were in an unpeopled valley of native vegetation, flanked by ropy, ridgy hills. Flying up the slot toward them came the two pursuing aircars, swelling, slowing—corning in for a capture, or just taking careful aim?

The Ariel's combat drop shuttle roared up over the ridge and descended like the black hand of God. The pursuing aircars looked suddenly much smaller. One veered off and fled, the second was smashed to the ground not by plasma fire but by a swift swat from a tractor beam. Not even a trickle of smoke marked where it went down. The drop shuttle settled demurely beside them in a deafening crackling crush of shrubbery. Its hatch extended and unfolded itself in a sort of suave, self-satisfied salute.

'Show-off,' Miles muttered. He pulled the woozy Thorne's arm over his shoulder, Taura carried the stunned man, Nicol's battered cup stuttered through the air, and they all staggered gratefully to their rescue.

Subtle noises of protest emanated from the ship around him as Miles stepped into the Ariel's shuttle hatch corridor. His stomach twitched queasily from an artificial gravity not quite in synch with over-loaded engines. They were on their way, breaking orbit already. Miles wanted to get to Nav and Com as quickly as possible, though the evidence so far suggested that Murka was carrying on quite competently. Anderson and Nout hauled in the downed trooper, now moaning his way to consciousness, and turned him over to the medtech waiting with a float pallet. Thorne, who had acquired a temporary plas dressing for the forehead cut during the shuttle flight, sent Nicol in her damaged float chair after them and whisked off toward Nav and Com. Miles turned to encounter the man he least wanted to see. Dr. Canaba hovered anxiously in the corridor, his tanned face strained.

'You,' said Miles to Canaba, in a voice dark with rage. Canaba stepped back involuntarily. Miles wanted, but was too short, to pin Canaba to the wall by his neck, and regretfully dismissed the idea of ordering Trooper Nout to do it for him. Miles pinned Canaba with a glare instead. 'You cold-blooded double-dealing son-of-a-bitch. You set me up to murder a sixteen-year-old girl!'

Canaba raised his hands in protest. 'You don't understand—'

Taura ducked through the shuttle hatch. Her tawny eyes widened in a surprise only exceeded by Canaba's. 'Why, Dr. Canaba! What are you doing here?'

Miles pointed to Canaba. 'You, stay there,' he ordered thickly. He tampered his anger down and turned to the shuttle pilot. 'Laureen?'

'Yes, sir?'

Miles took Taura by the hand and led her to Sergeant Anderson. 'Laureen, I want you to take Recruit- trainee Taura here in tow and get her a square meal. All she can eat, and I do mean all. Then help her get a bath, a uniform, and orient her to the ship.'

Anderson eyed the towering Taura warily. 'Er . . . yes, sir.'

'She's had a hell of a time,' Miles felt compelled to explain, then paused and added, 'Do us proud. It's important.'

'Yes, sir,' said Anderson sturdily, and led off, Taura following with an uncertain backward glance to Miles and Canaba.

Miles rubbed his stubbled chin, conscious of his stains and stink, fear-driven weariness stretching his nerves taut. He turned to the stunned geneticist. 'All right, doctor,' he snarled, 'make me understand. Try real hard.'

'I couldn't leave her in Ryoval's hands!' said Canaba in agitation. 'To be made a victim, or worse, an agent of his, his merchandized depravities . . .'

'Didn't you ever think of asking us to rescue her?'

'But,' said Canaba, confused, 'why should you? It wasn't in your contract—a mercenary—'

'Doctor, you've been living on Jackson's Whole too damn long.'

'I knew that back when I was throwing up every morning before going to work.' Canaba drew himself up with a dry dignity. 'But Admiral, you don't understand.' He glanced down the corridor in the direction Taura had gone. 'I couldn't leave her in Ryoval's hands. But I can't possibly take her to Barrayar. They kill mutants there!'

'Er . . .' said Miles, given pause. 'They're attempting to reform those prejudices. Or so I understand. But you're quite right. Barrayar is not the place for her.'

'I had hoped, when you came along, not to have to do it, to kill her myself. Not an easy task. I've known her . . . too long. But to leave her down there would have been the most vile condemnation . . .'

'That's no lie. Well, she's out of there now. Same as you.' If we can keep so. . . . Miles was frantic to get to Nav and Com and find out what was happening. Had Ryoval launched pursuit yet? Had