Part 11 (2/2)

Chandris opened her mouth... closed it again. ”I'll find someone.”

”No,” Hanan shook his head. ”There aren't any fences for stolen angels, Chandris. No fences, no

black markets-no unofficial markets at all, for that matter. The only people who buy angels are the Gabriel Corporation; and even they don't give out real money for them. All we get is a credit line against goods and services, and it's good only on Seraph.”

The torch in her hand seemed to be growing heavier; with an effort, Chandris kept it pointed at them. ”Then I suppose I'll have to take your s.h.i.+p,” she growled.

Hanan c.o.c.ked an eyebrow. ”Having never flown one before?” he asked pointedly.

”Who says I've never flown before?”

He sighed. ”Come on, Chandris. We may come across as hopelessly naive, but we're not stupid. We're perfectly aware that you've been lying ever since you came aboard last night. If you'd really gone through a s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p training course you'd have known far more about Angelma.s.s and black holes in general than you do.”

”And,” Ornina added, ”you wouldn't have arrived on Seraph as a stowaway.”

An invisible cord seemed to knot itself around Chandris's throat. ”What are you talking about?”

”We're talking about Chandris Lalasha,” Ornina said. ”Who boarded the s.p.a.celiner Xirrus at Uhuru and disappeared, and was subsequently identified as a female stowaway caught in the upper-cla.s.s section, who escaped from custody at the Magasca s.p.a.ceport.”

”Leaving a whole bunch of security types looking like idiots,” Hanan added with a grin.

Chandris felt cold all over. They knew. And if they'd called for help before coming down here... ”When did you find out?”

”The news report came through yesterday afternoon,” Ornina said gently. ”It included several pictures.”

For a long moment the only sounds in the room were the m.u.f.fled roar of the engines and the thudding of Chandris's own heart. ”You're lying,” she managed at last. ”You didn't know. You couldn't have.”

”Why not?” Ornina asked.

”Because if you had you wouldn't have let me anywhere near your s.h.i.+p,” Chandris retorted. ”You'd have called the police and I'd be sitting in a cell.”

Ornina shrugged. ”Which is more or less why we didn't call them. Because you'd have wound up in a cell.”

Chandris snorted. ”Save your sympathy. I've been in cells before, plenty of them. They've never hurt me yet.”

”Maybe.” Ornina's eyes were steady on her. ”But they don't seem to have helped you much, either.”

Chandris looked back and forth between them, survival instincts battling with an inexplicable rush of personal pride. If the Daviees really had known who she was last night, then they were a lot softer than she'd first thought. She could switch back to the poor, helpless, victimized little girl role; play for sympathy- The pride won out. ”And I suppose you thought you could do better?” she snarled. ”Well, do me a favor and don't bother. Even Barrio food goes down easier than charity.”

For the first time Ornina's face hardened. ”I suggest you lose that word right now, girl,” she said tartly. ”Charity means giving things away for free, and that is the absolute last thing you're going to find here. Flying and maintaining a hunters.h.i.+p takes hard work, and lots of it. If you decide to stay you're jolly well going to pull your weight.”

Chandris glared back at her... and then, abruptly, the words registered. The words, and the offer behind them. ”What are you talking about?” she demanded uneasily.

”We're talking about offering you a job,” Hanan said. ”Unless, of course, you'd rather keep running.”

Chandris stared at him, a creepy sensation crawling up her back. There was a trap here-there had to be. ”Why?” she asked, stalling for time.

”Why not?” Hanan countered. ”You're a fast learner, you have a terrific memory for details, and you're obviously willing to put a lot of effort into getting what you want.”

Chandris threw a quick look over her shoulder, half expecting to see someone there sneaking up on her. But there was nothing but a blank wall. ”You called someone,” she accused them. ”You've got a police s.h.i.+p or something coming alongside.”

Ornina shook her head. ”We haven't called anyone. No one knows about you but us.” Her gaze dropped briefly to Chandris's hand. ”So I guess you've got a decision to make.”

Chandris looked down at the torch. There was a trap here. Somewhere. ”What if I say no?”

”Well, it cuts down a bit on the number of possible choices,” Hanan said. ”All you'll have to decide then is whether to kill us and try to fly this tub yourself, or else let us fly you back to Seraph and start running again.”

”And of course you promise not to turn me in,” Chandris spat, even as her stomach gave an extra twist. That was the second time Hanan had specifically mentioned running. Did they know more about her than they were letting on? ”I've heard that before, too.”

Ornina seemed to pull herself up to her full height. ”Well, then, maybe this will make the decision easier.” Extending her hand, she started forward.

She got three steps before Chandris shook off the sheer unexpectedness of it. ”Hold it!” she snapped, jerking the torch for emphasis. ”Go back or I'll burn you. I mean it!”

Ornina didn't even break stride. ”It's all right,” she said, her voice soothing. ”We're not going to hurt you. And you don't really want to hurt us.”

”Stay there,” Chandris ordered... but even to her own ears the words sounded more like a plea than a command. ”Stay there or I'll kill you. I swear I'll kill you.”

”You're not a killer,” Ornina told her firmly. Reaching out, she took the torch from Chandris's

suddenly nerveless fingers.

Chandris took a shuddering breath, an empty feeling twisting her stomach. So it was over... and now when it was too late, she saw the trap. Something in the room-gas or drug or hypnot-had drained her of her will and strength. All that talk had just been them stalling, just like she'd thought, until it could take effect. ”So what happens now?” she asked bitterly. ”You drop me off at the big spider, or do I get to be strapped to my bed all the way to Seraph?”

Hanan rolled his eyes theatrically. ”Why,” he asked the ceiling, ”does this always have to be so complicated?” He lowered his gaze to Chandris. ”I'd like to feel we're at least making some progress. Can we a.s.sume that you've scratched the option of killing us and stealing the Gazelle?”

”You're real funny,” Chandris snarled.

”Thank you,” Hanan said, tilting his head in a slight bow. ”I'm also tired and extremely hungry.

Could we please try and get this settled?”

Chandris stared at him. Looked at Ornina. Back at Hanan. ”You mean it,” she said, her voice

sounding distant in her ears. ”You really mean it.””We really mean it,” Hanan nodded.Chandris shook her head. ”You're crazy. Both of you. Completely crazy.””Why?” Ornina asked. ”Because we offer a job to someone who obviously needs one?””I've got a job,” Chandris snapped, the unreality of it suddenly slapping her in the face. ”I steal from people. And sometimes I even kill them.”

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