Damn the woman!
Tell her go to hell? Let her have the frustration?
Better hear the threats, he thought. Better give the woman the satisfaction. Five got ten she wasn’t calling with Mischa Hawkins’ blessing and go-ahead. The woman was still on the docks somewhere. Corinthian had gone on the boards as Departure: 1400h. And if she was out there—and he’d bet she was—she knew.
“Quillan?”
“Sir?”
“She’s at a phone. Probably within sight of our dockside. Get a team looking.”
Not a damned word from Mischa Hawkins. The cops hadn’t arrested anybody after the set-to, just tagged the ships involved and a judge had slapped both Corinthian and Sprite with thousand credit fines, with a warning.
Damned right a warning. “You keep your people clear,” he’d phoned Sprite to say. “And we will.”
“Aye,” Quillan said. “Put her through, sir?”
“Put her through,” he said, and heard the click. “Marie Hawkins?”
“You son of a bitch,” Marie Hawkins said. “How are you, Austin?”
“Oh, getting along. How have you been?”
“Just fine. Alive. Saner than you’d like. I just wanted to call and thank you.”
“That’s nice.” You wondered where she’d planted the bomb. Or if she knew they had her kid. “Did you have something more in mind? It’s been a few years, Marie. Things got a little out of hand. I apologize for that.”
“You’re senior captain now. Congratulations. And a—is she your wife?”
“Nothing official. It’s just not our style.”
“Beatrice Perrault.”
What in hell was the woman after?
Beatrice at least was safe, on duty. Christian was below, inside the ship.
“Beatrice, yes. I hear you’ve moved up to cargo officer. Congratulations. How do you like the work?”
“Love it. I owe you so much. My start in life. My son.”
Did she know? He had no idea.
“Would you like to come aboard, Hawkins? Have a drink, discuss mutual interests?” He didn’t think so. Possibly she was taping the call, for playback to authorities. He didn’t expect an acceptance. “There’s time before undock. You’ve noticed we are pulling out.”
“I’ve noticed,” Marie Hawkins said.
“So what about the drink? Apologies?”
“I don’t think so.”
She hung up. He shouldn’t have pushed.
“Captain, we—”
“—didn’t have time. Damn it, watch the frontage! If she’s calling from one of the bars, we can still catch her. Haul her in, if you can do it without a fuss. Relay that.”
“We’re looking.”
Damned crazy woman. Mischa Hawkins probably didn’t know where she was, or they’d cheerfully reel her in. Sprite was on warning with station authorities, and Hawkins had sent one terse message: Call us if you have any contact with any Sprite crew. Neither of us can afford this.
Nobody’d raised hell with station offices yet about the missing son—so they hadn’t figured where Thomas Hawkins was, yet. Probably they thought he was keeping company with Marie.
Which meant if they didn’t find Marie, they couldn’t know to the contrary; Marie probably thought her kid was with the group the cops had turned back to Sprite and told stay off the docks—Marie wasn’t interested in being found, and so long as Marie stayed out of Sprite’s reach, nobody was going to know Thomas was missing.
If they couldn’t catch her—she was still doing Corinthian a favor, just staying out there. Best hope they had of getting out of here.
—iv—
“CHRISTIAN.”
Christian cut his eyes toward the overhead and leaned his back against the wall. Where it figuratively was, already, with Austin.
“Sir.”
“You stay inside the ship. That’s an order, boy.”
“I was just going…”
“Maxie’s seeing to it. I want a double-check on the warm-hold count. Get on it.”
“That’s Maxie’s job!”
“See to it, damn you! I’m fall up with your excuses!”
“Yes, sir,” he said, and when he heard the com click out, pounded the paneling with his fist.
Saby put her head out of ops and stared.
“What?”
“What, what, Austin’s what, he’s on my case, is what.” He stalked to the office, shoved past Saby and sat down at the console.
Punched keys. Not his favorite job. Maxie’s job, and, thanks to brother Thomas and his crazy mother, no last tour on dock-side, no chance to slip back to the shop for the earrings Capella had lusted after, no chance to go back to the vid shop for the tapes he’d eyed… you didn’t load up on stuff while you were on liberty, you waited till the last minute, if you didn’t want to pay delivery.