The Universe - or Nothing Part 22

"Don't fire. Back off," he shouted.

The men with the rifles were momentarily confused, uncertain; one began to lower his weapon. Rimov was a s.h.i.+p's officer; they would be in deep trouble if they disobeyed.

Without warning, the decision was taken from them.

Scarf panicked.

Stepping back and behind k.u.miko, using her as his s.h.i.+eld, he frantically jerked his heavy hand weapon loose, at the same time crouching in firing position. Gripping the weapon with both hands, he rammed the setting into max and fired around k.u.miko. Brad was out of his momentary line of fire. Not so Rimov.

The burst hit Rimov between the shoulder blades.

There was a sharp, crackling sound as cloth and Rimov's flesh carbonized. He fell forward, dead before he struck the deck.

No one moved. Cordy and his men stared at their fallen officer.

Brad didn't wait for them to recover.

"Back," he shouted to k.u.miko and Scarf. "Around the bend. Now."

k.u.miko whirled and raced around the corner.

Scarf rolled back on to his feet and dashed after her. Brad followed.

Rimov's guards were nowhere in sight.

There was a roar of rage behind them.

Cordy.

"They shot Rimov. After 'em. Shoot to kill."

The pa.s.sageway was long; they would be at the wrong end of a shooting gallery as soon as Cordy reached the bend. The only break was a narrow ladder through a hatch in the overhead.

"Up," Brad commanded. "Fast."

k.u.miko first, then Scarf. Brad followed.

As Brad drew his legs up through the hatchway a searing blast struck the frame, missing him by centimeters. Brad twisted away as another bolt flashed up through the hatch, scorching the bulkhead from which he had just moved.

Brad shouted down. "First guy who shoves his head through the hatch gets it burned off." Turning to k.u.miko and Scarf he whispered, "That won't hold them for long."

"Listen, about that shooting...", Scarf began.

Brad snapped him short with an impatient gesture.

"Not now. Let's get to the utility."

They looked around. The s.p.a.ce was almost dark; the only light from widely s.p.a.ced, low-power neutro-lamps. They were standing on a narrow platform, little more than a ledge, from which a catwalk bridged a complex of girders and cables.

Brad mentally reconstructed their route before Cordy's challenge. The portal through which they boarded should be within fifty meters of where they crouched. Their lives depended on the catwalk pa.s.sing close to it.

Studying the arrangement of the structures around them and the coding on cable bundles, Brad peered along the catwalk, first in one direction, then the opposite.

He looked at the open hatch and shouted down. "We demand safe conduct to our s.h.i.+p. Do you hear me?"

Silence.

Scarf shoved his face close to Brad.

"Are you kiddin'?" he said, his tone expressing his disbelief. "I just killed one of their men. They're not gonna give us safe conduct anywhere."

"I know that," Brad replied. "Even if they do promise us safe conduct, it'll be just to get at us. I want them to think we're going to hole up here until they give us an answer. Bura must know by now. We've got to get off before he personally takes charge of the search."

Brad again scrutinized the s.h.i.+p's stringers and cable insulation colors. He pointed.

"Stay close."

They crossed stretches where ledges and walkways narrowed abruptly to barely enough for pa.s.sage.

Sharp projections along the way snagged and abraded their protective suits. They realized that they might face serious seepage from their suits as soon as they entered the vacuum of s.p.a.ce.

A sudden, raking fire erupted behind them. Metal frames around them darkened from the bolts of energy.

Scarf jerked his weapon and returned the shots before Brad could stop him. The flash of his weapon provided the ideal target, and brought concentrated fire in return.

Stooping and sliding, Brad and k.u.miko stumbled forward. Scarf scrambled along behind, firing haphazardly to the rear.

Scarf howled with sudden pain. Brad looked back. In the dim light, Scarf hung over a girder, motionless.

Brad raced back to his side. A wide strip from sleeve and shoulder was burned away; blood oozed.

k.u.miko bent beside Brad. She yanked her glove off, reached in through the still smoking sleeve and felt for a pulse in Scarf's neck.

"Alive."

She stepped back. Brad, in the cramped s.p.a.ce, hauled the unconscious Scarf upright, bent, and with k.u.miko's help, lifted him on to Brad's back.

Scarf's scream of pain had brought a pause to the firing.

Grasping stanchions and cables for support, Brad staggered along the catwalk.

"Hatch up ahead."

"Might be it."

Brad gasped. Even in the light pseudo-gravity, Scarf's bulk was hard to maneuver.

"Take a peek."

k.u.miko was gone and back in an instant.

"Looks clear."