“We still have a problem,” growled Lukyan. “How do we get this thing from here up onto the platform itself?”
Suhkalev had strapped himself into the pilot’s position and was quickly examining the controls. “On the elevator stage,” he said without looking up. “But we don’t need to use that if we can just get the platform hatch open. It’s big — I think I can fly us straight from here and out without using the elevator at all.”
“Can we do that from here?” said Petrov.
“No. That will be controlled from the deck flight control room. Over there.” They followed the line of his pointing hand to a control room built into the wall some ten metres from the ground reached via an enclosed spiral staircase.
Petrov sighed. “Nothing’s ever easy, is it? I’ll get it.”
“No,” said Lukyan. “I’ll do it.”
Katya looked at him as if he were mad. “Uncle?”
Lukyan wasn’t listening. He was trading the maser carbine for one of the more powerful assault versions and making sure it was carrying a full cell. “I won’t be long,” he said and climbed through the hatch. Katya looked to Petrov for support but he was busy going through the flight deck’s controls with Suhkalev.
Lukyan was halfway to the base of the metal cylinder housing the control room’s spiral staircase when he whirled at the sound of footsteps, his rifle ready. “Katya! Get back to the aircraft right now! That’s an order!”
She skittered to a halt in front of him. “I’m coming with you.”
“I gave you an order!”
“I’m not in the military and neither are you anymore!”
“Tokarov…”
“I don’t think we can count anything Tokarov’s done as being in the interests of the FMA, can we?”
Lukyan blustered for a moment while he thought of another argument. “I’m your captain and you’re my navigator. You take orders for me and I’m telling you to get back there!”
She glared fiercely back. “I quit! I resign my post!”
Lukyan paused, stuck for a reply. “I’ll… I’ll give you a really bad job reference.”
They managed to continue glaring at one another for almost three seconds before Lukyan’s face cracked into an embarrassed grin and he started laughing. Katya couldn’t stay angry either and joined him. “That’s the most pathetic threat I think I’ve ever heard, uncle.”
“What else could I say? You’re too old to have your allowance cut off.” His laughter became subdued and he looked at her tenderly. “Sometimes, I really see my sister in you, Katinka. She could be mule headed too.”
“It’s a family trait. Come on, we could have been there and halfway back by now.”
They entered the cylinder and climbed quickly and quietly up, Lukyan leading with his rifle at the ready. After two and a half revolutions around the central newel column, they emerged into the control room. Lukyan immediately snapped the rifle to his shoulder and took aim. “You.”
“Me,” agreed Kane, affable as always. He sat in one of the room’s wheeled chairs at the far end of a long console that ran the length of the side overlooking the aircraft staging areas beneath a long window. He had his feet up on the console edge and seemed to have been waiting some time.
Katya stepped around from behind her uncle. “Are you going to make a hobby of turning up unexpectedly in places I’m heading for?”
“Ah,” said Kane, “last time I was just somewhere you were supposed to be, so it doesn’t count.”
“And this time?”
“This time I was waiting for you, admittedly. When you pulled that stunt on the bridge it was obvious you’d be looking for a way out. The Yagizban seemed very sure you’d try for the locks and threw most of their people down there. I selflessly said I’d take my trusty crew and guard the aircraft.”
“We didn’t see any of your lot, just a Conclave patrol.”
“Yes, that was unfortunate. They wandered in when we were doing such a sterling job of guarding the place. What with me up here drinking horrible coffee and my crew in the Vodyanoi over at the emergency deployment locks just over there.” He waved vaguely at the far side of the hangar.
“Hold on,” said Lukyan slowly, “are you saying you were going to let us go? Us and the FMA crew?”
“No past tense about it, Lukyan Pushkin. I am going to let you and the Federals go. That,” he pointed at the console, “is the control you’re looking for, to open the flight deck. Goodbye and good luck.”
“Why are you betraying the Yagizban?”
“I owe them no fealty. They’ve used me and my boat and my crew for the last few years. I used to think they were sincere in taking and holding the planet for Earth until such time as a new expedition from the home world could be organised. This whole Leviathan episode has put the lie to that — they just think they could do a better job of running the planet.”
“And you don’t think they could?” Katya asked as she walked to the console and casually snapped the control over. Outside, the massive hatch in the hangar’s ceiling cracked open and the two halves slid ponderously apart, the whine of the motors driving them obscured by the thunder and gales outside.
“Oh, I’m sure they could. It’s not a question of politics, Katya. It’s about loyalties. Mine still lie a good few light years away. My crew are all Terran. We’ve talked it over and… we’ll wait rather than put up with being lackeys to the Conclaves anymore.”
Lukyan frowned. His gun hadn’t drifted from Kane so much as a centimetre. “Wait for what?”
Kane looked steadily at him. “You don’t think Earth has finished with Russalka yet, do you?”
The sliding hatch halves were now almost fully retracted and the storm lashed through. Curtains of rain poured in a column down onto the hangar deck to swirl through gratings and into the bilges. Kane stood up slowly to avoid antagonising Lukyan’s trigger finger and looked out of the observation window. “You had better go. As had I.” He started to step away but something caught his eye and he moved back again. “Oh dear. That complicates things.”
Katya looked down and saw troopers streaming onto the hangar deck, deploying to cover and securing as they went. Impossibly, they were led by…
“Tasya!” Katya went pale. “She’s dead! We saw…”
Lukyan joined her. “So,” he growled, “that fancy armour’s not just for show.” He took Katya’s arm and headed for the steps.
“No! Wait!” Katya shook herself free and ran back to the console. On the communications board were the fin numbers for all the craft she assumed the Yagizban currently had available. She looked out of the window and then down the list until she found the channel for the transporter Petrov and his crew had taken. She selected it and spoke. “Lieutenant Petrov! This is Katya Kuriakova. Come in, please.”
Almost immediately, the hail was returned. “Ms Kuriakova, what is your situation?”
“We can’t get to you, we’re cut off.”
“We can…”
“No, don’t try to rescue us. They want to kill you. The Chertovka’s leading them.”
There was a pause while this intelligence sank in. “Resilient, isn’t she?” Petrov said finally.
“Get out of here. Right now! Get to FMA waters and tell them what’s happening. Just go!”
“We can’t leave you.”
“Don’t be stupid. Of course you can. You must. Don’t worry, we have an alternative escape route.” She looked at Kane, pleading. He smiled slightly at her and Lukyan and nodded. “Just go.”