VT dialled in the frequency and tried again. She had been trying to reach Kathryn Tatopoulos for most of that morning and much of the afternoon, without success. The signal from the Bebop was poor, but all diagnostics suggested that it was strong enough to reach Mars with the aid of Earth's signal boosting satellites. VT sat patiently at the comm console and listened to the scratchy beeping of the waiting tone as it rang around the bridge.
"The party you are trying to reach is not available," said a synthesised female voice. "Please try again later." The message repeated in several other languages, and for the hundredth time that day VT's call was cut off to clear bandwidth for the torrent of data that streamed ceaselessly through the Earth Gate's hyperspace relays.
"God damn it," said VT.
She took a sip of her coffee and knitted her fingers behind her head. It was tempting to give up. VT could easily convince herself that Tatopoulos was already aware of all that she and her posse of misfits had learned from the files stolen from Von de Oniyate Sr., and that the DA knew of what had transpired between the Bebop and the squad of crooked Orbital cops above Mars. Tatopoulos might even be moving against the Red Dragons as VT sat and made repeated failed attempts to contact her, using the brazen behaviour of the syndicate's agents to expose Tiamat and their allies within the Martian authorities. It would be easy for VT to convince herself that the DA simply didn't need her help. Very easy.
But none of that mattered. Kathryn Tatopoulos was an ally, a friend who might need every scrap of intelligence she could get to defeat her adversary, or even to survive the attempt. VT might be stuck on Earth, unable to lend a hand in any physical sense, but if she could help at all, she would. It was as simple as that.
She leaned forward and began dialling again.
It wasn't just Loyalty to Tatopoulos that kept VT at the console, prodding fruitlessly at the Bebop's senescent comm system. Almost from the moment the ship had put down in the warm waters of Ha Long bay in the wee hours of the previous morning, Lo had worked to jury-rig a transmitter powerful enough to signal Mars with a little help from the gate booster stations. Using parts scavenged from the Bebop's hold and from Coffee's ship, the little electronics salesman had somehow cobbled together a functioning communications system powerful enough to send and receive audio calls. Granted the signal was intermittent, and the system would only work while the ship was stationary, but it was a hell of a lot better than nothing and VT was damned if she would let the little guy's efforts be in vain.
Lo's work had been impressive. VT had even found it within herself to say so, though her kudos had elicited little response. Lo had just carried on working feverishly, his face devoid of expression, his motions robotic. Any words of response he had given had been monosyllabic, if they were even words at all. VT worried that Lo might have had one nasty scare too many and had retreated into his shell for good.
Worried. Now there was a thing.
The trucker reflected that all the oddballs she'd somehow ended up adopting had impressed her in one capacity or another over the last few days; even Zeroes had had his moment. It had been a long time since she'd worked as part of a team, albeit a horribly dysfunctional one. It was almost a shame that it would probably end here, with each of them going their separate ways, each trying somehow to find a way back to the lives they'd left behind on Mars and beyond.
VT realised that her mind had begun to wander. She listened again to the sound of the waiting tone, certain that it would once again cut to the same automated message.
Instead, there was a buzz, then a click.
"Tatopoulos," said a distant, tinny voice. The last syllable was almost lost in static.
VT hesitated, her surprise briefly rendering her mute.
"Hello?" said Tatopoulos.
"Hello," said VT, coming back to herself. "Bebop here."
"VT? I hadn't expected to hear from you." The static had cleared a little. There was a weariness in the DA's voice that had not been detectable at first.
"I take it you heard about what happened," VT said.
"In a roundabout way, yes. We had a complaint from Gate Patrol that Orbital had been playing on their lawn again. There was some brief reference to a ship a lot like yours jumping the queue for the gate."
VT had to laugh at the Gate Patrol's priorities, and its inferiority complex.
"VT, are you still there?" said Tatopoulos. "I didn't quite catch that."
"Yeah, I'm still here," VT said. "I take it Orbital couldn't be reached for comment?"
"They seemed strangely reluctant to explain why they were chasing you, if that's what you mean."
"They said they wanted my partner over Cho's murder," said VT, the mirth gone from her voice.
Tatopoulos seemed to consider that for a moment. "A set up, then," she said. "And did you encounter any trouble once you reached Earth-side?"
"Nothing we couldn't handle," VT replied.
As it turned out, the Bebop had encountered almost no trouble at all once they had reached the Earth end of the gate. They had been issued with a ticket - ten thousand woolongs, payable within sixty days, for queue jumping - but otherwise had been allowed to descend to the surface unmolested. VT guessed she could thank the confusing messages from the Mars Gate Patrol and a general lack of syndicate interest in an economically depressed Earth for that. "Everyone arrived in one piece. More or less," she added.
"I'm sorry, I should've asked about your partners," said Tatopoulos. That weariness in her voice was more evident now than ever.
VT had worked enough long shifts, in both of her careers, to know what sleep deprivation sounded like. It wouldn't have surprised her if Tatopoulos had not slept since the night they had met.
"Don't worry about it," she said. "We've all got our own stuff to think about. At least we're all in better shape than Kolarov."
"Yes, I heard about that, too," said Tatopoulos. "Were you able to learn anything else from him, before he was assassinated."
"Not much," said VT, and proceeded to relay her conversation with Kolarov, but left out what the informant had said about Tatopoulos' old vocation as an undercover police officer. She also belatedly passed on what they'd learned about the involvement of Andrew Von De Oniyate, passing it off as new information, and also her own speculation on what it all might mean.
"A coup," said Tatopoulos when VT had finished. Her tone was completely neutral, as if VT had just stated it would rain tomorrow, and not that a syndicate takeover of the system might be imminent.
"Looks that way," said VT. "Sounds far-fetched, I know."
"It does," said Tatopoulos. "But not outside the bounds of possibility. Psych tests of major syndicate players we've had in custody in the past have shown them capable of a frightening level of fanaticism."
"What you're saying is that they might just be crazy enough to try it," said VT.
"What I'm saying is that they may just be crazy enough to succeed."
VT let that sink in. That the district attorney for the system's most important world, one of the most influential people in the system, could envisage defeat against a syndicate uprising was disturbing in the extreme.
Tatopoulos seemed to sense the meaning in VT's hesitation. "I'm sorry," she said. "I shouldn't be talking that way. It's been a long few days."
VT smiled wanly. "Tell me about it."
"Listen," said the DA. "I need to talk to my associates here on Mars. We may be able to use what you've given us to move against Tiamat, or even Von De Oniyate. If we can shut him down, maybe it would be enough to put a stop to the Red Dragons' plot, or at least delay it."
"That sounds like a plan," said VT. She leaned forward over the console. "How can we help?"
"Lay low," said the DA.
VT frowned. "Come again?"
"I said lay low, keep your heads down. This isn't your fight, it never was."
"Now wait just a minute-"
"Please, don't misunderstand me. Your efforts are appreciated. Truly. But you've done enough, more than enough. Now you should just stay out of harm's way. Wait it out on Earth. The Bebop will be safe there, or at least safer than most places. Just, for my peace of mind-"
"You're asking us to drop it so you can sleep at night," said VT. She didn't even try to keep the anger out of her voice. She never liked it when Ural coddled her, and she sure as hell wasn't going to take it from some politician.
"If that's how you want to look at it, then yes."
"Sorry, Kathy, but that is not your decision. We've come this far, we're gonna see this thing through to the end. Your conscience is your problem."
"Please, VT." For the first time, there was a hint of something other than fatigue in Tatopoulos's voice. "You have to understand, I…" She paused there. For a moment VT thought that the signal had cut out, but the DA's voice did return, its composure restored. "VT," she said, firmly. "You have to understand. Everything I do, everything I have ever done, has been for the benefit of the people of Mars. And God knows, I have done some terrible things in the name of that cause."
Immediately, VT's mind went to what she'd been told of Tatopoulos' time within the Red Dragons. What must she have done, been forced to do, to maintain her cover?
"People have died, VT," she went on. "People have died in the name of my cause, and it's a weight I'll carry for the rest of my life."
"Kathryn-"
"No, VT. I brought you into this because I thought you might be able to help me, to help the cause. And you have. I've asked more of you and your crew than I had any right to, but it has to end here. I'm playing a dangerous game, VT. I've spilled a lot of blood already, some of it needlessly. I won't add your blood and that of your crew as well. So please, please… just stay down. I cannot, will not ask any more of you than that." Was Tatopoulos voice cracking, or was it just the static on the line?
VT thought about it. She thought about how it must have felt for Tatopoulos, spending all that time in the bosom of her most hated adversaries. What she must have had to do to convince them she was one of them. She must hate the Red Dragons with the sort of passion that VT herself would never know, but part of that hatred, one special, dark little corner of it, must have been reserved for herself. VT had never been one to stand on the side lines of a fight, but could she really wade back into this one knowing what it might do to this woman?
"Okay," she said at last. "We'll stay here for now. I'll send you what we have on Von De Oniyate."
"Thank you," said Tatopoulos. Her voice was almost too quiet to hear over the buzz of the cosmic background.
"I'll be waiting on your call, though. I want to hear the moment you've finished whooping those syndicate assholes."
"I'll call as soon as the operation is complete." The strength was returning to the DA's voice. "If what you've told me is true, we'll have to move soon. You'll know soon enough how it turns out, one way or the other."
"There's no 'one way or the other' about it," said VT with a smile. Then her expression sobered. "You look after yourself, y'hear?"
"You, too. And look after your crew. Good allies are tough to come by."
"I will, though most of 'em can look after themselves I think."
There was a hiss on the line that might have been muted laughter. "Of course. I guess not every ship can boast a seasoned bounty hunter and a samurai warrior."
"I suppose not," said VT. "Good luck, Ms. Tatopoulos."
"Same to you," said Tatopoulos. "Ms. Terpsichore." She ended the call.
VT stared at the communication console for a long moment. She probably shouldn't have been surprised; Tatopoulos' resources were somewhat greater than those of the average trucker. Still, it had been some months since the last time someone had called her by her old married name.
"Well played, Kathy," VT said. "Too bad I'm a little short right now." She pulled herself out of the chair and headed for the door. "Guess I'll just have to owe you a drink."
ooo
VT dreaded what must come next. Now she would have to tell the rest of her crew, such as it was, that the adventure was over, that she had agreed to be benched on their behalf. Lo, she knew, would not object, in fact she wondered if he would react at all. Although he might freak out again once he realised it would be some time before he got to go home to his store and his mom. Andy probably wouldn't be happy either, having convinced himself that Musashi the Samurai was about to face his greatest, and most heroic battle.
But what VT dreaded most was breaking the news to Coffee. The bounty hunter had been stomping about the ship in a foul mood ever since they had set down the previous morning, making it clear to everyone how she felt about the idea of running from the fight. Taken alone Coffee's hot temper might be enough to explain her desire to go on the offensive. And yet, VT had begun to sense that there was more to it than simple belligerence. Either way, if Coffee was already furious at being grounded on Earth, God only knew how she'd react when she found out that grounding would be indefinite.
VT entered the lounge to find Andy and Lo sitting in silence. Andy occupied the couch, staring into the middle distance with his unsheathed sword resting across his lap. To the untrained eye, the samurai might have appeared to be in a state of deep meditation. In truth, Andy was sulking. Yesterday VT had ordered him to sell Jirumarou II to raise money for fuel and other supplies. The bounty hunter had resisted, but VT had reminded him of his solemn, warrior's oath to serve her and he had been forced to relent. She still felt oddly guilty every time she remembered the sight of Andy, stood forlornly on the landing deck, watching his horse float away in the belly of one of the local, shallow-drafted fishing ships. On the bright side, the sale had raised more money than VT had expected. The people of Old Vietnam obviously had an eye for good stock.
Lo was sitting cross-legged on the floor, his back resting against the front of the single-seat chair. He was tinkering with an old radio control unit he had found lying around, his face a blank mask. Again, VT felt a pang of guilt. Of the four human members of the crew, Lo was the only one who was here against his will. Yes, he was a coward, but he'd never once claimed to be anything else. He was a repairman who had been sucked into a system-wide power play, when all he'd really wanted was to be left in peace to make a modest living. Lo was a microcosm of every honest, hardworking person whose life had ever been made a misery by the very criminal organisation VT had been fighting. Only this time, she was responsible for that misery.
Zeroes was there, too, draped over the back of the couch like a ratty antimacassar. His steady breathing was the only sound in the room beside the rattle of components in Lo's lap.
VT set her jaw and descended the couple of stairs to floor level. "Hey guys," she said, conversationally. "Can I have a word?"
Both men looked over at her. She opened her mouth to speak again, but before she could get a word out the door at the top of the stairway rolled aside. VT swore inwardly as Coffee stepped into the room and clanked angrily down the stairs.
"Damn stupid fuel line," she growled. "Damn manifold was the wrong damned shape." She muttered a few expletives, and something about improvising something out of packing tape and adhesive foam.
Coffee had spent a chunk of the previous day fixing up what she could on board her ship. The bounty hunter had made no protest at Lo taking what he needed from its long-range comm system. She had made surly comment about not needing any of it to kill syndicate assholes before continuing to recalibrate the targeting systems and patch up bullet holes.
"Oh good," said VT without enthusiasm. "Everyone's here. Listen guys, I've got something to tell-"
Coffee held up a hand, stopping VT mid-sentence. The bounty hunter marched across the room and out into the hallway, vanishing into the kitchen. There followed the sound of coffee being poured into a mug.
Great, VT thought. Now she would have to deliver her news while Coffee had a container full of scalding hot liquid in her hand.
Coffee returned and stood just inside the doorway, staring impatiently at VT as if she were being kept from the important business of preparing for war.
"Well," VT began. "I just spoke to the DA. She said nice job, by the way."
"And?" said Coffee. "Are we getting back into this thing, or are we just gonna carry on sitting here on our asses?"
"Yeah, about that. We're not going back to Mars."
There was a pregnant silence. Lo went back to tinkering with his radio control unit. Andy looked more interested now, though it was difficult to read the nature of that interest.
"What?" said Coffee.
"We're not going back," VT said again. "Tatopoulos has asked us to keep our heads down from here on out, and-"
"And you agreed to it?" said Coffee.
"As a matter of fact, yeah. I did."
Coffee gave a bitter little smile. "Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me."
"What Tatopoulos said is right," VT said. "We've done enough. You've done enough, all of you. Every one of you has almost died, on more than one occasion since we got caught up in all this." Lo looked up at this, his expression still passive. "I know what I've asked of you, and I know what I've said that you owe. You can consider it all paid. In full."
"So, what," said Andy. "You're saying we should leave?"
"Yes," said VT, then shook her head. "No, I…" She pinched at the bridge of her nose. "What I'm saying is, you can stay here if you want, or you can leave. Find somewhere to lay low on Earth or try to find your own way back to Mars. You don't owe me anything anymore. You don't owe anyone anything. But you have to understand, we're out of the fight. This thing is just gonna have to blow over without us."
"And if it doesn't blow over," said Coffee. "If this syndicate crap spreads through the system and we all end up bending the knee to this Tiamat jackass, then what?"
"The DA is taking care of it," said VT.
"Taking care of it? A planetary economy on the verge of collapse. A police force infested with crooked cops. A system staring down the barrel of a syndicate takeover. You'll excuse me if I ain't impressed with Kathy's brand of 'taking care of it'.
"She's handling it," VT growled, her patience wearing thin.
Coffee gave a bitter little chuckle. "Oh yeah, sure she is. No doubt Kathy's gonna pull five hundred SWAT teams out her ass and march 'em right down Tiamat's throat, singing 'Ode to our Red Planet' all the way. Meanwhile, we're downing tools and go on a fishing trip to the asshole of the system. Unbelievable."
"Coffee, we-"
"The worst part is that you're just accepting it," Coffee went on, almost shouting now. "The little weirdo I can understand, and Captain Bedsheet is too dumb to find his way to the bathroom on his own, let alone back to Mars. But you, I thought you were better than this, VT. I thought you were the kind that'd see things through to the end." She gave a snort of sardonic laughter. "Guess I was wrong about that. Well, you stay on Earth and go fish if you want, but I have no intention of sitting here, hiding in the dark like a fucking coward!"
Something inside VT broke across those last few words, something brittle and rotten snapping with a sensation almost as much physical as it was emotional. And with that breaking, the words came.
"Coward?" She snarled back at Coffee. "That's rich, coming from a goddam bounty hunter. You bottom feed your way across the system, scraping a living from the misery of others, and now suddenly you want to be a fucking hero? What is it with you, anyway? Since when does a damn cowboy care what happens to the rest of the universe?"
Coffee glared furiously at VT. Her jaw worked and her free hand clenched so hard that for moment VT thought Coffee might move to strike her. And then, suddenly, Coffee broke eye contact and stormed from the room, leaving the way she had come. The door rolled shut, and in the bounty hunter's abrupt absence VT's fury crumbled, like a building with its keystone pulled away. She propped her fists on her hips and let her head drop. "God damn it," she muttered.
Andy stood up and calmly, wordlessly, left the room, heading in the direction of the crew quarters. Lo went back to his tinkering.
VT walked around to the back of couch and ran a hand down her cat's back. Zeroes had slept through the drama and now mewed quietly in his sleep at his owner's touch.
"You still love me, don't ya fella?" she said.
The response was a loud feline snore.
"Sure y'do." She made her way wearily towards the kitchen. "Catch you later, Lo."
She got no response.
ooo
VT carried her cup of coffee through the doors and hallways of the ship. She had no destination in mind and was thinking of nothing in particular. She just walked from room to room, corridor to corridor, taking in the sights and sounds and smells of the place, the things that had become so familiar to her in the days since she had purchased the Bebop from a peculiar stranger on a Tharsis City street. It was funny how quickly she had come to think of the place as home. Or perhaps it wasn't. This was, after all, the first time in forever that she had stayed in one place for more than a couple of days, the cab of her truck excluded. The first place with its own bathroom, anyway. Now she was faced with the possibility of having to leave the Bebop, either to sell her or abandon her. The thought of it filled her with a strange and unfamiliar feeling. She suspected it might be regret.
Her wanderings eventually brought her to the airlock that led out onto the landing deck. Her coffee mug was half empty, and the contents almost completely cold. On a whim she decided it might be nice to finish her drink in the glow of a setting sun. She disengaged the lock, the dull clunk of the magnetic seal reminding her of the night Coffee had arrived on the ship. Incredible that it had not even been a week since then. She passed into the airlock, opened the second door and stepped outside.
There were a lot of reasons VT loved Ha Long Bay, and not least among them was the glory of its sun sets. Calm waters, quiet and fathomless, glowed a warm hue of peach beneath a pastille sky, the muted yellow of the horizon fading through successive shades of grey and blue before fading to near black overhead. Wooded hills, worn to irregular humps by the unimaginable passage of time, protruded from the bay like the spines of a vast sea demon, blurred shadows at the water's surface only hinting at its true size. The cool air carried on it the smell of salt water and the Bebop's dormant engines.
VT let the beauty of her surrounding soak into her, and for the first time considered staying right where she was. She could very easily live here, tether the Bebop permanently and spend the rest of her life enjoying the peace of this place. The odd rock fall wouldn't be too high a price to pay.
She turned her head slowly, her gaze sweeping across the horizon from port to starboard. In the failing light, she almost missed the figure standing at the edge of the landing deck.
VT hadn't noticed Coffee at first, the bounty hunter's silhouette lost among of the ancient hills of the bay. For a moment VT considered turning and heading back indoors, but something in the set of Coffee's shoulders suggested that it might be safe to approach. It could be that the two of them would be parting ways soon. Better to do it with some sort of peace having been made.
VT walked slowly to the edge of the deck, to where Coffee stood staring out over the port side of the ship. She was careful to make her footsteps audible, partly so as not to startle the bounty hunter, and partly to give her a chance to reject the company if she so desired. There was no objection, and soon the two women were standing side by side, looking out across the darkening bay. VT noted Coffee's full mug, and the lack of steam rising from it.
The two stood in silence for a long time, the only sound that of the languid waters patting gently at the Bebop's hull.
"So, that's it huh?" said Coffee. Her voice was so low, so devoid of emotion, that VT almost couldn't discern it from the whisper of the waves.
"Come again," said VT. She turned to look at Coffee, but her partner just stared out across the water.
"That's it. The end. Done. We're out of the game."
VT turned back to the horizon and sighed. "Yeah, that's it." She looked down into her drink. It was almost black at the bottom of the mug, the liquid hidden in shadow. "Listen, I'm sorry about what I said back there. About bounty hunters and all that."
"What's to be sorry about?" said Coffee. "I am what I am."
"That's not what I mean. All that stuff I said about human misery, I didn't-"
"Mean it?" Coffee looked across at VT for the first time, then back out to sea. "Of course, you did."
Coffee had her there. "Yeah, well I shouldn't have said it. We all have our prejudices, I guess."
"I guess."
The two women stood quietly for a little while, before Coffee spoke again.
"You got friends?" she asked.
VT frowned. "Friends?"
"Yeah," Coffee replied. "You know, trucker buddies, or whatever."
"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I guess."
"Must be quite the community out there. All you drivers, haulin' ass or whatever it is you call it. Yammering away on your radios."
"It is," said VT. She had a lot of friends out there, something she hadn't really thought about when she'd accepted Tatopoulos' plea for her to stay on Earth.
Coffee looked down into her drink. It looked like she might take a sip, but instead she said, "Bounty hunting sure as hell ain't like that."
VT knew this to be true. She knew it from bitter experience but said nothing.
"Sure, there are friends, allies even. But in the end, it's about the money. Just like you said. Not much loyalty there. Most cowboys would just as soon swindle you as look at you."
"Doesn't sound like you have much love for your profession," VT observed.
Coffee gave a slight shrug. "In a lot of ways. But fact is, I'm good at it."
VT had to admit she was right. For all her bravado and short temper, Coffee was smart, courageous, and could keep a cool head in a fight. Of course, none of these thoughts made it anywhere near the trucker's lips.
"A bounty hunter's world is not a nice place," said Coffee. "There are no nicknames, no convoys or friendly radio chatter. Most team ups are a matter of convenience or profit, and usually end in a squabble over pay. It's sleazy, nasty and dangerous." For all the harshness of her words, Coffee's tone was almost wistful. "It's a hard world, but it's my world. It's the only one I know, and it's dying."
"The cancelled bounty heads," said VT.
"Yeah. It's been going on for months. Number of cowboys in the system has halved since the end of last year. If this keeps up, there won't be any of us left by the beginning of next."
"And if the Red Dragons take charge of a chunk of the system…" VT let her head rock back. Stars were beginning to come out overhead. "Geez."
"Yeah," said Coffee.
VT tried to think of something to say. All she could come up with was a lame, "I'm sorry."
Coffee laughed. It was a sad little sound, almost lost amid the lapping of the bay. "I doubt that."
VT had no answer to that. She regretted the loss that Coffee felt but felt none of it herself. She didn't much feel like explaining that to the bounty hunter.
"Well," said Coffee. "I hope you feel better now. My ship's patched up. I should be outta your hair by morning." She went back to staring across the bay.
VT did not feel better. She had been only too happy to write off Coffee's belligerence and near suicidal behaviour as the recklessness endemic to bounty hunters. She hadn't even considered that this woman might actually be fighting for something beyond the numbers in her credit book. VT had stood before her crew and nobly told them that they didn't owe her anything. And perhaps she was right. But that didn't mean there wasn't a debt to be paid.
It was almost full dark now. The heavens were a spread of winking lights, most stationary, but many racing to and fro - the remnants of a shattered moon and a century of spacefaring.
VT found a point on the horizon, a hill that appeared as a black notch cut into a blue-black sky. She locked her eyes on it, anchoring herself in the moment. "My Old Man was a bounty hunter," she said, almost whispered.
There was a short pause. The waves babbled quietly in the star light. A cool breeze plucked at VT's jacket.
"That right?" said Coffee.
"Yeah. He was pretty good at it, too. Made a bit of a name for himself."
"A name I'd know?"
VT thought about that. "Maybe a little before your time."
"If you say so. How did he make this name for himself, the one that I wouldn't know?"
"The usual cowboy stuff: Catching bounties, starting fights, destruction of public and private property."
Coffee chuckled. "Sounds like my kinda guy."
"If by that you mean he was a brash, irresponsible idiot, then yeah. I suppose he would've been." VT looked at the water that spread away from her feet, the ripples picked out in the silver light of creation. "A big, beautiful idiot," she said quietly.
There was another lull in the conversation.
"So, what happened?" Coffee asked eventually.
"Got killed on a job," VT said simply.
VT heard Coffee shift on her feet. "Dangerous business," said the bounty hunter. "Guy wants bad enough not to get caught, he'll-"
"It was another bounty hunter."
In the dark, VT heard Coffee let out a long breath. Now she understood.
"He and my husband were after the same bounty head," she explained. "Other guy wanted it more."
"You see it happen?"
"No." Liar.
"I'm sorry," said Coffee. It sounded more like an apology than condolence. "Guess you have your reasons for being prejudiced."
"I guess," said VT.
She took a sip of her coffee. It was stone cold. She tossed the rest into the bay, the liquid fracturing into a sparkling arch before vanishing amid the waves. She knelt to place her mug on the deck, then stood and thrust her hands into her pockets.
"So, what will you do now?" she asked.
"Not sure," Coffee said. "State my ship is in, I sure as hell ain't getting back to Mars on my own." Coffee threw her own drink away but held onto the empty container. "I guess I could stay here on Earth. If the Reds ain't bothering with it, maybe there'll still be a living to be made here."
"New car?"
Coffee glanced across at her companion. "Well, I'm not gonna get the goddamn bus," she said.
The two women laughed. The sound was small and light and carried off easily by the wind.
"Who knows," said Coffee. "Maybe I can even make a name for myself."
"A better name than 'Coffee'?" VT grinned.
Coffee shrugged. "It's better than Roberta."
"I don't know, I kinda like Roberta. It's cute."
"It's just some guy's name with an 'a' stuck on the end."
VT rubbed her chin. "Huh, I guess that's one way of looking at it."
"Anyway," said Coffee. "You're one to talk about names. What does VT stand for, exactly?"
"Sorry, pal," said VT. "That information is classified. Unless you wanna take a guess. I have a kind of pool running, though I'll have to write you an IOU if you guess right."
Coffee appeared to think about that for a moment.
"Maybe some other time," she said. She looked up at the sky. "Beautiful night. Would y'look at that, Mars is out."
VT looked up at the sky. There was Mars, orange and constant amid the flickering stars and the tracery of falling debris.
"Shame we can't help Kathy out," said Coffee. "She's a decent lady. For a politician."
"Yeah," said VT. "With any luck, the intel we gave her will help her get the support she needs to move against the Reds."
"With any luck," Coffee echoed.
VT smiled up at the angry little light in the sky. "Besides, we'd probably only get in the way."
"You sure about that," Coffee said ironically. "Who wouldn't want a bounty hunter, a trucker, a repairman and a samurai on their side?"
VT chuckled at that.
Her laughter stopped abruptly.
A samurai. A goddamn samurai.
"What is it?" Coffee must have read VT's expression by the starlight.
VT stooped and picked up her mug. She turned and strode along the deck, back towards the airlock.
"Hey, where are you going?" Coffee called after her.
VT stopped and looked over her shoulder. "Back to Mars," she said. "You coming or not?"
ooo
Lo was still in the lounge, wrist deep in that old radio control set when VT returned. The clatter of kitchenware sounded from round the corner, likely Andy rummaging through the kitchen for a snack.
"Lo, drop the toy," said VT as she descended the stairs. "Andy, get in here. There's been a change of plan."
Lo looked up. The sounds from the kitchen stopped. A moment later, Andy peered carefully round the corner like a child checking to see if his parents had stopped fighting yet.
"What's going on?" he asked hesitantly.
"We're going back to Mars," VT said. She dumped herself down on the couch just as Coffee was entering the room.
"Are you gonna tell me what the hell is going on?" said the bounty hunter.
"We're going back to Mars, apparently," said Andy, stepping in from the passageway.
"I know that, jackass," Coffee growled. "What I want to know is why this sudden change of heart?"
At this everyone looked to VT. Even Zeroes, still sprawled on the back of the couch, had pricked up his ears.
VT leaned back and scratched under the rim of her hat. She was tired, and the events of the last few days had been as disturbing and disorienting as any since the day she'd lost Ural. There was an idea forming, but she was having trouble crystalising it in her mind.
"Just a hunch," she said. "I know it's not much to go on, but…" She took off her cap, turned it around and stared at it like the answer might be hidden somewhere in its scuffed leather. "Listen, if any one of you wants to jump ship now, I wouldn't blame you. I can't ask you to follow me back into that shit storm off the back of a hunch. But I've just got this feeling…"
Coffee shrugged. "Hell, that's good enough for me. I wanted to go back and crack some heads anyway." She looked over at Andy. "How about you, Sushi Box?"
Andy gave a sideways smile. "You know, I once demolished half a city block off the back of a hunch."
"Really?" said Coffee. She almost sounded impressed. "You catch the guy?"
"Nope."
"Lo," said VT, breaking into the conversation before Coffee could recount some incident where she'd brought down a space station or something. "I know this bounty hunter stuff doesn't agree with you. You did a great job fixing up the comm system, and I promise you will be paid for it, somehow or other. But if you want out now, no one will blame you for it. You're free to go, either here or on the other side of the gate."
Lo looked down at the RC unit in his lap. He then grasped the device and pulled himself to his feet.
"I want to go back to my shop," he said quietly. VT was preparing to shake his hand and wish him well, when he added, "If that means going through an army of mafiosos, then so be it."
"You don't have to fight, Lo," said VT. "We can drop you off where-ever you want to be."
Lo seemed to consider that for a moment. "I've had trouble with the syndicates before," he said, still staring into the exposed innards of the radio control set. "Thugs who'd come round and shake me down for money. It'd be the Red Dragons one day, the White Tigers another, depending on who happened to be claiming my neighbourhood that week. You'd think a guy like me would get used to being pushed around, but it never gets any easier, any less frightening." He looked up at VT, emotionless mask now an expression of tearful determination. "Can you imagine what it would be like if half the system ended up in the hands of those jerks? If they started claiming whole planets and moons as if they were city blocks?" He looked down at his feet, embarrassed suddenly by his own candour. "You know what I mean?" he muttered with a tiny shrug.
"I hear ya," said VT. "So, you're in?"
Lo sniffed. "I guess so."
VT grinned. "Good man. Looks like we've got ourselves the beginnings of a convoy."
"So, what now?" Asked Coffee.
"Now, we start tooling up." VT levered herself off the couch and, looking at each of her partners in turn, said, "Lo, get up to the bridge and check out the comm system. We're gonna be needing it. Andy, Coffee, I want you two to dig out your little black books. The three of us have got some calls to make."
Lo set down the RC unit and headed for the bridge, while Andy made for his quarters. A moment later, it was only VT and Coffee left in the lounge, with Zeroes purring loudly in his sleep.
"Any chance of you explaining this hunch of yours?" asked the bounty hunter.
"Not yet," said VT. "I'm still trying to straighten the whole thing out myself. I'm guessing it's gonna take a day at least before we're set to go. I should have a better grip on it by then."
"So, you expect us to just follow your lead on this without any explanation at all?"
VT shrugged. "Pretty much. Is that gonna be a problem?"
Coffee studied VT for moment, then said, "No. I But if you have a problem with bounty hunters, then you ain't gonna like the contents of my 'little black book'."
VT smiled. "That's what I'm counting on."
ooo
It was late, and Kathryne Tatopoulos was still ensconced behind her too-small desk in her much-too-small office, with a mountain of unread paperwork looming in her peripheral vision. She ignored the documents, staring instead at the phone on her desk. Not her office line, but the personal set she used for off-the-record calls.
A couple of hours had passed since she had spoken to VT. It had been a relief to hear the tenacious bounty hunter's voice, small and crackly as it struggled to reach Mars from her bolt hole on Earth. It had been an even greater relief when VT had agreed to step aside, and so to remove herself and her colleagues from the game board. Truth was, Tatopoulos had regretted bringing them in almost as soon as she had done so. All that she'd said to VT about blood spilled needlessly, about asking too much of her and her friends, had been true. But what Tatopoulos had not said was that she couldn't face falling back into the old habit again. The habit of throwing away the lives of good people to meet her own ends, a habit she wished dearly she could have left behind with her old job and her old life.
But fall back into it she had, whichever way she looked at it and however she tried to justify her actions to herself. At least now she would have the scant consolation of having spared a few decent souls the poison of her association.
And yet…
Something gnawed at her. Like a detail missed, like a word poised on the tip of her tongue. She recognised the feeling, like vertigo as one teeters on the verge of tumbling into realisation. With a sickening mix of exhilaration and despair she recognised it for what it was. Tatopoulos had a hunch, a feeling that situation would soon change and that if she failed anticipate what was coming, she'd risk being swept away by events too big and too fast-moving to control.
"Boss?"
Tatopoulos looked up with a start. A shadowed face peered around the edge of her office door.
"Collins," she said, relaxing. Collins was an ally, an old colleague from the force turned civil servant. "What's the matter?"
"Actually, I was going to ask you the same thing," said Collins. He slipped into the office without fully opening the door, then gently closed it behind him. "You've been sitting in here with the lights off for almost two hours now."
It was only as Collins said this that Tatopoulos realised that she had indeed been sitting in near darkness for some time, the sun having set since her call with VT ended. She'd been contemplating her phone by the light of her computer monitor.
"You want me to get the lights?" Collins asked.
"No," said Tatopoulos, standing. "I'm just about done here, anyway."
"Alright, then. You okay locking up if I head home now?"
"Sure."
Collins smiled in the gloom, wished Tatopoulos good night, and turned for the door.
"Collins?"
Collins stopped, door half open, and turned to look at his superior. "Yeah, boss?"
"I… think it might be time."
Colins expression became serious. He closed the door and turned fully to face Tatolpoulos. "Something's happened?" He asked. Tatopoulos couldn't read Collins's eyes in the shadows, but his body language showed the same taught readiness she'd seen a dozen times before in the moments before a raid, unmistakeable even in silhouette.
"No," she replied. "Not yet at least."
"So, what makes you think it's time to move?" There was no doubt in Collins's tone. It broke Tatopoulos' heart to know Collins would be with her, regardless of what she said next.
"Just a feeling," she said.
Collins bobbed his head in the darkness. "Okay. I'll get things rolling." He turned for the door. "See you in the morning, boss."
"See you in the morning."
And then she was alone.
She looked at her phone on the desk. One way or another, Kathryne Tatopoulos' dangerous game was coming to an end.