“Okay,” she said, taking a deep breath. “Anyone else got any concerns?”
There were a few shared looks. Elvis, the engineer who looked like an old movie star from the viewscreen with chiseled chin and smoldering dark eyes shifted in his seat. You might think he was an actor or a musician if you didn’t spot his calloused hands and oil-stained skin. He leaned forward. “I guess we just don’t like the sense that you couldn’t say no to this guy. Seems like he had you over a barrel. And that barrel was on a parsec gun.”
Biddy snorted. “That was how it seemed, eh?”
Elvis’s dark cheeks were flushed when he realized how pissed off she was. “He must have something good on you, that’s for sure. I mean, it’s none of our business but –”
Biddy held up her right hand, palm outwards. “He offered me Iona Beach, Elvis. Tirnanog and the whole shebang. That’s the truth of it. I don’t see why I shouldn’t let you know.”
Elvis’s mouth was so open it could have caught asteroids along with flies.
“Iona Beach?” A tall, gangly girl with scraped back blond hair whispered the words.
Biddy turned. “Yes, Kenzie. The plastic man said he could get it back. He gave his word. But that’s not any reason for you to feel you have to come along. It’s my responsibility, not any of yours.”
“Shit.” Hastings sucked his top teeth. “No wonder you took the job.”
“Yes. So now you know.”
She was already regretting mentioning Tirnanog. Half the crew had ties to Scotclan, and the rest of them knew what it meant. Any legitimate concerns they might have about hunting down an Augment had gone out of the window.
Still, she could hardly criticize them. She had done the exact same.
Biddy looked at her datapad and grimaced. “We’re already cutting it fine with the launch so let’s wrap it up here. In five minutes I expect to see you all at your stations, or leaving via the cargo bay. No recriminations whatever way you choose.”
Did part of her hope that they would all back out? Biddy felt her spacesuit clammy against the small of her back. If they decided to come then it would be her responsibility when the whole mission went to shit. And she had a feeling it was going to sooner or later. No one who promised an entire planet was offering an easy job. And yet… if there was even the slightest possibility of regaining Tirnanog, well, she had to take that chance.
“Those of you who stay, I’ll come and speak to you all personally with your mission tasks. It’s going to be a busy trip,” said Biddy Mackay, master of understatement.
Half an hour later Biddy was at the back of the control room watching the crew take the ship out. Every crew member was still on board. No one had even mentioned quitting. At least, not to her face. But Biddy was well aware of the sacrifice she was asking of her men.
“Make sure the crew take extra supplements,” she told Francesca, the petite Martian who doubled up as navigator and medic. “Maximum doses for fast light travel all round.”
“Of course. But the supplements will not counter all the symptoms.” This was as close as Francesca would come to open criticism of Biddy. It still smarted.
“Do what you can,” she replied. Francesca nodded and strode out of the control room, her afro bobbing with the movement. Most of the crew on the bridge watched her go before turning back to their consoles. Biddy bit back a smile. Every crew member fell in love with Francesca due to her combination of shimmering black skin and silver tattoos that flicked their way around her neck and right temple. Unfortunately for the men onboard, Biddy had never seen her navigator so much as glance at them. She was a hundred percent focused on the job, which made her invaluable.
Biddy turned back to her own console and wished she could emulate that focus. A hunt for an Augment. A God, according to the religion of her parents. They would have been horrified by the very idea that Biddy would consider seeking down one of the Gods. And yet…
Iona Beach. Tirnanog.
Damn. The plastic man had left her no choice. But that didn’t mean she had to do it his way.
“Hastings, bring us out of the docks.”
The Captain nodded assent and raised the shutters so that they could see out of the six panels of windows onto the inky black of the outer solar system.
Only the merest of vibrations told Biddy that her ship was moving. The space cruiser Black Maria. Small and nimble with a cutting-edge parsec-neutron Fast Light engine. Well, cutting edge two decades ago, when it was rare for small cruisers to have the engine capacity for interstellar travel. Now it was out of date and unreliable. And the rhodium coating on some internal part of the engine had started to fail. And somehow the plastic man had known that.
Still, the rhodium had been applied and now the ship would be good for another decade or so. As long as she didn’t do too many of these back to back interstellar flights.
“Ready to leave the system?” Hastings called out.
“Ready,” Biddy said. She closed down her console. Now that they had left the docking point, she was happy to leave control of the ship to the Captain. To Hastings credit, he had rarely resented the fact that the ship’s owner could override his control. He was used to working for Scotclan where the chain of command was sometimes a little fluid. Ultimately, without Biddy there would be no ship, and Hastings knew that as well as anyone.
Elvis sidled up to her. He stood a little closer than she might have liked. Biddy had had a terrible
