Free Marauder by Gary Gibson Page A

at the other two.
    ‘It’s not as if we don’t know that just one machine-head could keep a ship like this running indefinitely,’ said Tarrant, sitting back again. ‘I’d obviously
prefer to take along a full team of specialists, but there isn’t the time for that, and there’s too much risk that it would lead to us being discovered before we set out. Not only that,
but it’s absolutely imperative that none of this is in any way attributable to the Schellings – or any of the First Families, for that matter. We need to make this look as if we just
cut and run.’
    Cut and run. Just take the
Beauregard
and pilot her fifteen thousand light years, in search of some ancient ship travelling on an unknown quest
.
    The whole idea was impossibly romantic, and – she was forced to admit – more than a little appealing.
    But it was impossible, of course. Surely he knew that?
    ‘You do know that all the Alliance’s ships are equipped with failsafes, don’t you?’ she said. ‘They’re there to prevent machine-heads like me from doing
precisely
what you’re suggesting. As soon as someone down in Ladested realizes I’m taking the
Beauregard
out of orbit without authorization, they’ll shut me down
remotely.’
    ‘And Otto Schelling, as the primary financier behind the
Beauregard
and its sister ships,’ said Tarrant, ‘has the ultimate responsibility for that override. We
won’t be stopped.’
    ‘I need more than just your word on that,’ she said.
    Tarrant nodded. ‘I’d check the current authorization flags, if I were you.’
    Megan dived back into her datascape just long enough to ascertain that numerous fail-safes had indeed been disabled. She blinked, feeling numb. It meant she could literally take the
Beauregard
anywhere she wanted.
    ‘Why ask me to do this
now
?’ she exclaimed. ‘Why not yesterday, or a week ago?’
    ‘We didn’t have everything we needed, a week ago,’ said Tarrant. ‘And that didn’t leave us much time.’
    There’s no turning back
, she told herself, feeling a sense of standing on the edge of a precipice.
    ‘Whatever data you have about the Wanderer,’ she said, ‘I’ll need to see all of it.’
    Tarrant nodded, as if he’d been expecting her to say just that. ‘We’ll upload everything we’ve got to the
Beauregard
’s data banks, the moment you give your
answer.’
    She glanced at Bash, noting his hopeful expression.
    ‘Okay,’ she said, ‘let’s do it.’

SEVEN
Megan
    2763 (the present)
    The morning after Megan found herself locked into a basement room on Avilon alongside Bash, Sifra appeared in their cell in the company of the Freeholder, who had Megan’s
satchel slung over his shoulder.
    She had been asleep, curled up on the cold hard concrete next to Bash’s cot, when they entered. Sifra held an antique Consortium-era assault pistol in one hand, and she saw he still
affected a straggly blond goatee, although there were now a few silver streaks. His hair still stuck up in places, giving him the appearance of someone perpetually in the process of just waking
up.
    He gazed down at her, then nodded with satisfaction. ‘Good work, Luiz,’ he said to the Freeholder, then grabbed Megan by the arm, hauling her to her feet.
    He pressed the barrel of the pistol against her neck and guided her towards the corner of the room farthest away from Bash.
    ‘Hello, Megan,’ said Sifra. ‘Long time no see. Were you surprised to discover I was still alive?’
    She found it hard to swallow with the gun pushed against her throat. ‘How did you do it, Anil? I left you and Gregor for dead. Didn’t the Wanderer try and finish you off?’
    ‘It lost interest in us,’ said Sifra, ‘because we no longer had what it wanted. We were stuck out there on the wreck of the
Beauregard
for very nearly two years, and
all thanks to you. Two whole years before General Schelling was able to send out a rescue drone. Plenty of time for me to think about what I’d do if I ever