Harry had programmed his slate to continuously scan the public feed for any mention or sighting of Rigel Bennett, as well as transport manifests both two and from Valhalla. Harry figured there was too much heat on the guy for him to stick around, but he could see him hiding in a maintenance tunnel while people brought him food and water until things eased up enough that he could slip away. But in a million years Harry never would have suspected Rigel Bennett of slipping out in an automated atmosphere hopper making a routine supply run to the gas giant Valhalla orbited. And that’s exactly what happened.
Niflheim hung in space like a bloated jewel. Most of the immortals aboard the station were partners in a mining consortium that harvested hydrogen from the almost-world’s upper atmosphere, and they liked to stay close to their business interests. Automated scoopships regularly dipped toward the planet, sucking up vast quantities of the almost unlimited supply of hydrogen, which was used as reaction mass in most spacefaring vessels. Cornering the hydrogen market had made the partners extremely rich. That was easy to figure out. What Harry couldn’t discern was why Rigel Bennett chose Niflheim as his escape route.
He supposed it had the virtue of having never been tried, and it was so insane that no one would ever suspect it. Harry almost didn’t find out about it, but his tagging of every ship coming and going included the hoppers, and this one wasn’t scheduled for a sojourn to the gas giant for another three hours, causing his slate to tag it as suspicious.
Harry took the next mag-lev out to the docking ring and asked around for the dock master. He found the assistant dock supervisor instead.
Nnedi Abara was a short, stocky black woman in an orange jumpsuit emblazoned with the mining company’s logo. A frizzy mass of hair stood out on her stolid head, barely contained in a hair wrap composed of some dark-colored fabric. She flashed him a perfunctory smile.
“What can I help you with, Detective?” she said. Her voice was pleasant enough, but her bearing told Harry in no uncertain terms that she would rather be doing anything else with anyone else than dealing with him right at this moment.
“One of your hoppers made an unscheduled trip. I believe it contains a stowaway.”
She laughed. “Some trick, that. Only reason someone would go down there would be to die.”
Harry nodded, considering this. It didn’t make much sense. Unless he was waiting for a ride to come and pick him up. It would be easier than trying to walk to a waiting ship with everyone aboard Valhalla looking for him.
“Be that as it may, I think my fugitive might be down there, and I need to go and have a look.”
She flashed him a toothy grin. “What the hell’d he do?”
Harry leaned in close, lowering his voice. “He killed Honey Gomez.”
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The woman’s dark brown eyes widened, pulsing like a pair of dying stars just before going nova. “Did he now?”
“Yes, and I need to bring him to justice. Can you tell me where this hopper went?”
Harry showed her his slate with the unscheduled hopper’s transponder code flashing on the screen.
Nnedi nodded and turned toward her workstation, tapping a few keys. “Platform 231b. Not the hopper’s programmed stop. That platform’s been decommissioned.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that everything of value has been stripped from it and it’s been abandoned. It’s due to enter the giant’s atmosphere any time now. See? Those platforms can’t stay aloft indefinitely. When they’ve outlived their usefulness they’re left to sink into the atmosphere and get crushed by the gas giant’s gravity.”
She raised her hand and squeezed it into a fist to illustrate. “If your friend is still on it when that happens…”
Harry shook his head. He won’t be. Rigel Bennett had an escape plan, and this was it. If anyone eventually traced him to the platform, they would assumed he died with it. If he got away now he would be almost impossible to track.
“I need to get down there.”
Nnedi shook her head. “No way, Jose. Living things don’t go down there. The mining operation is entirely automated. I could lose my job. You gonna pay my rent?”
“You could already lose your job for the human being you already allowed to go down there. What’s one more? Besides,” he said, holding up his badge. “I am ordering you according to company charter.”
The assistant dock supervisor took a step back, eyes narrowing briefly to slits. “Fine. It’s your funeral. But I will not be responsible for your safety.”
“You don’t have to be. I knew the job was dangerous when I took my oath.”
“Fine. But the hoppers don’t have life support. You’re gonna need a suit.”
Twenty minutes later Harry was outfitted in a bulky, dirty suit a size too big that smelled of stale sweat and plastic. He held the helmet under his right arm as Nnedi Abara looked him over. “You look like a newbie your first time up a gravity well. You sure you know what you’re doing?”
No. “Yes.”
“All right. Follow me. I checked out your story. Apparently your guy used phony credentials to hack one of my pods, and that pisses me off. I was able to commandeer another one for you that was almost at the end of its routine maintenance cycle. Don’t worry, it’s perfectly safe, for a titanium orb with no life support. It will take you to the platform and wait for you. When you’re ready to return, just enter this code—” Harry’s slate chimed. “—and it will return you and your fugitive to the station safe and sound. It’s going to be cramped quarters though. As I said, these things were never designed to carry people.”
“Thank you,” Harry said as he followed her to his assigned pod. “How long do I have?”
She shrugged. “Before the platform swan dives? Within the next couple of hours. Also, your guy has had time for someone else to pick him up, so he might not even be there when you arrive. His pod has already returned to its duties like nothing happened. This whole thing might be a waste.”
Harry shook his head. “I have to see for sure.”
Nnedi sighed. “As I said, your funeral. Here you go.” She palmed a big red button next to a circular door and it swiveled open to reveal the cramped sphere within.
Harry bent and inspected it. The pod was indeed small, and with his suit on it would be tight and uncomfortable, especially with no seat or crash webbing.
“Hop in,” Nnedi said. “And watch the gees. Even in the giant’s upper atmosphere, where things can exist without being smashed flat, its heavier than Earth normal. You’re gonna weigh another hundred pounds. But on the bright side, so will your friend.”
Harry nodded. “That’s something at least.” He put on his helmet, made sure the air was working, and climbed inside.