The Darwin Elevator

Chapter Forty-nine

Darwin, Australia

24.FEB.2283

His office in Nightcliff no longer felt comfortable. Russell paced it, grinding his teeth, waiting for the connection to be made. He’d been seconds away from boarding a climber for orbit when the request came.

His temper raged like a stormy sea. The damned woman had bested him. He could admit that. The idea that he would now have to beg was what churned his stomach.

Unless she simply wanted to gloat.

“I’ve almost got it,” said Kip, sitting at Russell’s terminal. “Yes. Connection established.”

“About time. Will I be able to see her?”

“Audio only,” Kip said, moving away from the desk.

“Figures,” Russell said. He wouldn’t be able to read her body language. The woman sure had a head on her shoulders. Russell vowed not to underestimate her anymore.

Taking a seat at his desk, he leaned in to the microphone. “This is Blackfield.”

“Hello, Russell.” Her voice sounded clear. Smooth, even. “Tania Sharma.”

He’d played this conversation in his mind since the scope of her betrayal had become clear. At the moment he couldn’t recall a word of it, and somehow that soothed him. He preferred to think on his feet.

“You sound good,” he offered. “Well fed.”

“If we could please discuss—”

“I’m fine,” he said. “Thanks for asking. I do appreciate the farm you sent while I vacationed in Africa, but I’m afraid it didn’t survive reentry.”

Silence from her end. She wouldn’t be goaded, it seemed. Russell wondered who sat with her now, coaching her. More than that, he wondered where the hell she was.

“Your other bomb missed, by the way.”

“What do you mean?” To her credit, she sounded confused.

Russell turned in his chair, his gaze settling on the plume of smoke rising from Darwin’s old downtown. “They say the explosion rattled the entire city. Nightcliff was unharmed. I assume that was your target. Lucky for you it landed outside the Aura, or you’d have a lot more innocent blood on your hands.”

Total silence. The damned woman had nothing to say.

“Well,” Russell said. “You called me. What’s on your mind, little lady?”

“I thought we might come to an arrangement.”

“An arrangement?” He snorted back a laugh. “That’s what’s on your mind? I thought it might be all the people you’re starving to death.”

Another pause. The silence went on so long, Russell thought perhaps the connection had been lost.

Across the room, Kip shifted uncomfortably on his feet. Russell had forgotten he was still in the room, and he jerked his head toward the door. The man left in a hurry.

Tania spoke. “We have a proposal—”

“How about this. Send the farms back, all of them, and I won’t hunt you down and strangle you.”

“Please, Russell. There’s no time for this.” Her voice, dammit, still sounded calm.

With a concerted effort he swallowed his rage. He realized that she had said “arrangement.” Knowing what she needed would tell a lot of her situation. “Fine, then, what do you want?”

“I’ll be blunt, Mr. Blackfield.”

“Good.”

“We have food. You have people.”

People. Not air, not water. Not even supplies. People.

They must have another elevator, then. At least that hadn’t been a lie.

“I’m listening,” he said.

“We propose a simple trade.”

She kept using the word we. Russell found that interesting. “Go ahead.” Letting her blather on, to his surprise, was proving useful.

“It’s quite simple, really. We will send containers of food to Gateway, where they will be unloaded. You will then return them with people aboard.”

“How much food?” he asked. “How many people?”

A pause followed. He imagined her sitting in a tin can somewhere, arguing with her fellow scientists; this was the first time any of them had tasted power. He wondered how soon it would corrupt. Perhaps it already had.

“A container holds roughly three tons of food. In exchange for each, we want forty people.”

A litany of thoughts shouted for his attention. He felt a headache coming on, and wondered where the nearest bottle was. “You’d better be sending a lot of them. I’ve got a city to feed, not to mention the bloody Orbitals.”

“If you supply empty containers, that won’t be a problem,” she said. “Do we have a deal?”

“Which people? Will random idiots from the outer slums do?”

“We’ve prepared a list.”

Of course you have. “Should I send them in shackles?” The words tumbled out, and silence followed. If he’d crossed a line so be it—the words felt good.

“I’m very aware of the distasteful nature of this, Mr. Blackfield. The list is short. Beyond those, we want volunteers in good health.”

He snorted. “And the males, well-endowed perhaps? You could start a harem for your little play kingdom. Or do you prefer women? I’m a little unclear on that point. I’d ask your assistant, but the last I saw her she was being annihilated—blown to smithereens—by, well, you.”

Tania went quiet again. It occurred to him that she hadn’t even asked about Natalie. Or anyone else, for that matter.

Russell already knew he would agree to her demands. He did need the food, after all, and the arrogant woman was offering him the perfect opportunity to send spies into her midst. Surely she must know that, but what choice did she have?

As she’d said, she needed people.

Russell would have no problem mustering an endless parade of brigands and idiots to send. He had a monopoly on that.

“Fine,” he said. “Let’s talk details.”