Well, she was about to give him something to rant about, that was for sure. With a nudge, she indicated the crew member should climb the ladder. She wanted to warn him against crossing her, but they were too close to the flight deck, and anyway she was pretty sure he'd got the message by now. The fear in his eyes as he looked over his shoulder was real enough, although that could have been due to the part of his anatomy she was aiming the gun at.
Once he was halfway up, Harriet joined him on the ladder. The plan was for him to step into the flight deck and freeze, so that she could stand behind him. According to the crew member, the access tube was at the rear, so there was no chance of her being surrounded. That was one point in her favour at least. Against that, there could be three or four people up there, all of them armed. She just hoped her captive wasn't universally disliked, or they'd probably open fire, leading to a total bloodbath. Next time she used someone as a shield, she decided to ask how well they got on with their colleagues first. Oh well, chalk it up to a learning experience.
The man stepped off the ladder, and Harriet paused. This was the critical moment. If he started waving his arms and pointing down at her, she was sunk. On the other hand, if he wanted to have any more kids he'd do exactly as promised.
"What do you want?"
Tyron's voice was close, making Harriet jump.
"I—I've got that report on the engines."
"Well don't stand around, man. Bring it here!"
"I … can't."
Harriet moved like lightning, racing up the ladder and popping onto the flight deck like a jack-in-the-box. She registered three people, all of them frozen with shock, and she grabbed the crewman around the neck and pointed her gun directly at Tyron. "I arrest you in the name of the Peace Force," she said, loudly and confidently. "Anyone moves, I'll shoot."
Harriet expected Smith to bluster, or shout, or threaten her, but his reaction was totally unexpected. Even as she held the gun on him, her aim unwavering, he turned his back on her.
"I said don't move!"
"Yeah, yeah."
Harriet was puzzled. Wasn't the message getting through? "This is a real gun, and I will use it."
"I know it's real. It's mine."
Harriet stared at his back. How could he be so casual? She glanced at the gun, wondering whether it was designed to fire backwards if the fingerprints were wrong, shooting the person holding it. That was about the only thing she could come up with, unless the gun was useless.
"You might as well let him go," said Smith. He was eying a display on the console, and he turned to a woman sitting nearby. "Did you track that ship?"
The woman stared back at him, then slowly turned her gaze on Harriet. Her expression was fearful, as though she expected Harriet to gun her down out of hand. The other man, sitting further along the console, hadn't moved a muscle since she appeared. This is completely unreal, thought Harriet. Smith's crew were taking her seriously, so why was he acting so casual?
"That ship?" asked Smith.
"I'm in charge," snapped Harriet.
Smith snorted. "No you're not."
"I've got the gun."
"And what are you going to do with it?" Smith turned to face her. "Say you shoot me. Will that get you back to Dismolle any quicker? What about Lydia over here? Do you fancy shooting her? You could probably take her head off from where you're standing, but apart from making a horrible mess it's not going to make much of a difference, is it?"
Lydia, the female crew member, didn't seem to agree, because her face turned pale.
"Oh, relax, the lot of you," said Smith. "She's not going to shoot anyone. Lydia, that ship, please."
Lydia tore her gaze from Harriet, and looked down at her screen. "It's o-orbiting Vasquez, sir. Passed right by us, no change in course since it lifted off."
At that moment, Harriet realised she'd lost. Through sheer force of will, or an accurate assessment of her personality, Smith had ended her little mutiny. Silently, Harriet lowered the gun, handing it to the crewman she'd held hostage. He grabbed her arm and twisted her round, holding her roughly.
"Let her go," said Smith mildly. "You can go back to your engines."
Harriet straightened her jacket as the crewman shot her an aggrieved look. He handed Smith the weapon, then left via the access tube.
"You might as well join us on the flight deck," Smith told her, indicating an empty chair at the console. "We're not far from Vasquez now, and once we refuel I'll get you home again."
"I'm not giving Alice up, no matter how much you threaten me."
"You won't have to. I was never going to hurt the girl, I just wanted her to open my box."
"Sure. Which is why you tried to kidnap her."
Smith frowned. "Opening the box may not be the end of it, and I want her around until I get my hands on the cargo. After that she's free to go, and I'll be out of her life for good."
"She's never going to trust you. The two of you have history."
"Her uncle, you mean?" Smith shook his head. "Sandon was a crook. I mean, none of us are choir boys, but that cargo was mine and Family doesn't steal from each other."
"Just everyone else."
Smith shrugged. "It's a big, bad Galaxy."
"So if Alice helps you get the cargo back, you'll leave her alone?"
"Nothing bad will happen to you, or to Alice. I give you my word."
Strange as it was, Harriet believed him. It was a pity he hadn't been so reasonable all along, but then this precious Family of his sounded like a bunch of double-crossing low-lifes. Then Harriet thought
