Sliding Void Read Free Page B

‘if I know him.’
    ‘You are going?’ asked the courier. ‘I have been paid to return a negative reply, if you choose not to heed my client’s message.’
    ‘Give me a minute to think on it,’ said Lana.
    ‘This Rex Matobo fellow is one of your race?’ Skrat asked. ‘I’ve never heard of the chap?’
    ‘Before your and Polter’s time,’ said Lana. ‘The rest of the crew will remember him.’ But not fondly, I reckon . ‘How about it, Zeno? You want to see Rex again?’
    Zeno tapped his artificial skin. ‘Hell, it’s not my nano-mechanical ass that’s going to be catching dysentery.’
    Lana groaned inside as she realized how few choices she had left in front of her, now. You can’t complain, girl. That’s why you’re still flying free as an independent. If it is civilised living you’re after, sell out to one of the corporate houses and work yourself some sophisticated routes over in the Triple Alliance’s void.
    ‘Are we going, revered skipper?’ asked Polter, eager to see if his premonition about receiving work was about to be rewarded.
    ‘Only if this chap has money,’ insisted Skrat.
    ‘Oh, he’ll have money,’ said Lana. The main problem is, most of it won’t be his.
    Worst thing was, she owed Rex Matobo a favor. Not the kind you got to skip by lightly, either. Stepping aside, Lana sighed and indicated her ship’s hulking navigation board for the benefit of the courier. ‘Load up the damn jump co-ordinates, shorty, then you can light out of here. Polter, crunch the numbers for a hyperspace translation, we’ve got us a little business to attend to.’
    She glanced towards the wide view of the shitty little no-account world fixed on the front of the bridge, the ball creatures’ planet, its brown gas-wrapped orb barely visible beyond the pitted expanse of the orbital station they had visited. And just once, don’t let it be the bad kind. Just this fucking once.
     

CHAPTER TWO – World of winter, world of war
     
    Calder Durk could feel them coming through the blizzard after him, six shield-warriors maybe seven. The big, heavy muscled brutes from Baron Halvard’s bodyguard. They were fresh and he was exhausted. Even with the weight of his pursuers’ two-handed swords, axes, shields and crossbows, and Calder carrying only the single hunting dagger he’d escaped with, the men were going to overtake him soon. His manservant, Noak, was ruddy faced and breathing hard under his bear furs, but showed every sign of being more spry than Calder, despite being twice his young master’s age. Fear could do that to a man. Calder wasn’t afraid, he was looking forward to the slaying, he was looking forward to carving up Halvard’s boys and leaving the treacherous scum frozen in the snow for the baron to find. A man has to die some time, right? Might as well be out here.
    Noak recognized the frown crossing Calder’s furrowed brow. Knew that his master’s supernatural hunting sense was alive and kicking. ‘How many behind us now, my prince?’
    ‘Six, I think. Armed for the fight and that’s the truth of it.’
    ‘Won’t be much of a fight.’
    Calder scrambled up a bank of snow, ignoring the aching pain in his legs, spurred on by adrenaline and the desire to survive.
    ‘You with a dagger and me with nothing but spit,’ added the manservant, lest the young prince think that he was considering fleeing and abandoning his charge. Of course, with ninety of their friends and crew lying poisoned across the tables of their so-called host’s great-hall back in the castle, doing a runner was probably the sanest course for the servant right now.
    ‘How far are we from the frozen sea, do you think?’ Calder asked Noak.
    The manservant rubbed the silvery beard of his chin, taking a second to glance behind them. Nothing but endless forests waste-deep in snow, every tree as tough as a granite cliff. The sea has to be less than ten miles ahead, doesn’t it?
    ‘Near enough, my prince,’ said