“And I have your absolute assertion that the ships in your bucket brigade will relay my conversation with Luna as promised?” said Lem. “I don’t want my messages held hostage, Mr. Montroose. I assure you that a legal battle with Juke Limited attorneys would result in you losing everything, including your personal freedom as a result of the criminal charges they would place against you.”
Montroose swallowed and checked his watch, as if this whole affair couldn’t end soon enough.
Lem tapped the amount into his wrist pad and held out his hand. Felix extended his own, and the two bumped pads. There was a transaction sound, and then Lem smiled. “Now, Mr. Montroose, I would appreciate you escorting me to your laserline transmitter.”
Montroose began leading them to the far side of the room toward another corridor.
“Murderer!”
There was shouting behind them. Lem turned. A man and two women were approaching from the opposite entryway. One of the women looked at a loss, as if she had tried to stop the other two, but failed. The man was hardly a man at all, now that Lem got a look at him. Seventeen, maybe, if that. And by the look of his clothes, Lem pegged him as a free miner. Great. More grievances. Another angry rock sucker wronged by Juke employees. Lem was tired of this business. Every pebble picker who heard he was Lem Jukes always came rushing to complain as if it had been his personal fault. Must he bear the burden of every act committed by his father’s men?
The boy was coming fast, but Lem didn’t flinch. He didn’t have to. The gun was in Chubs’s hand before the boy had crossed half the room. The boy saw it and caught himself on a handhold near the ceiling. His body swung forward with the momentum and then he righted himself, his eyes boring straight into Lem. The two women stopped beside him.
Lem smiled at the boy, amused. “My goodness, but you are angry.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Montroose,” said one of the women. “I tried to get these two back to their shuttle, but they wouldn’t listen.”
“What is the meaning of this?” demanded Felix, facing the boy. “Get out of here! You’ve been asked to leave.”
The boy never took his eyes off Lem. “I paid to be here.”
“And your money will be returned.” He waved his arms, as if shooing off a wild animal. “Now get out. Both of you. Leave Mr. Jukes alone.”
The boy spoke directly to Lem. His voice was calm, but there was steel behind it. “I wouldn’t expect you to remember me, Lem. I doubt you got a good look at my face before you hit me.”
Lem suddenly felt uneasy. There was something about this situation that didn’t sit well. “Mr. Montroose, will you and your employee please excuse us?”
Felix looked at Lem with surprise. “Are you sure, Mr. Jukes? I can have this boy thrown out.”
“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary. Some privacy is all we need.”
Felix looked unsure, then motioned for the woman to follow him. They went out the way the boy had come in and sealed the door behind them.
Lem regarded the boy and the woman with him. They were an odd pair. The woman was a few years older, though still quite young, midtwenties maybe, and ethnic, perhaps Native American. The boy was a Belter, no question.
“You clearly know who I am,” said Lem. “But I don’t have the pleasure of knowing you.”
The boy just stared, seething.
“I’m Imala,” said the woman. “Imala Bootstamp. This is Victor Delgado.”
The names meant nothing to Lem. “Victor, I think you may have me confused with someone else. I don’t hit people. Not in my nature. I don’t even know how to throw a punch.”
“Not with your hand. With your ship. Asteroid 2002GJ166. Kuiper Belt. Ten months or so ago. You killed a man. This ringing a bell?”
Lem felt the blood drain from his face.
“You killed Marco. He was my uncle. He had a wife and children.”
Lem’s mind was racing. He wanted to believe that this was blackmail somehow, that someone had heard about the bump with El Cavador, and that they were now trying to take Lem for money by acting like a member of the crew. Lem wished that were the case. Blackmailers he could handle. Chubs might even have a special treatment for them.
But he knew it wasn’t true. The kid wasn’t lying. Lem could spot a dishonest person in a blink.
But how was that possible? Lem had seen El Cavador destroyed. Every man on El Cavador had died in the assault on the Formic ship. Lem had watched it happen. The women and children had been placed on the WU-HU ship, but this kid wouldn’t have gone with them. He was too old. He would have stayed with the men. He was a man. He would have joined in the assault.
And then Lem remembered. “You’re the one they sent. The one who was supposed to warn Earth.” Lem had dropped the suave exterior. Now he was panicked. “What the hell are you doing here? You should be on Luna or Earth. You should be telling them what we know, sharing the evidence. Why didn’t you push on?”
The boy stared at him, confused now, his anger evaporated. “How do you know my family sent me?”