A Gathering of Widowmakers by Mike Resnick

Author:Mike Resnick [Resnick, Mike]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction
Publisher: Kirinyaga, Inc.
Published: 2010-05-28T06:00:00+00:00

17.

Nighthawk came out of the Deepsleep pod an hour before his ship reached Goldenrod. He methodically checked each weapon, then checked them again. He had the galley serve him a sandwich and smiled as he imagined Kinoshita's surprise that he could sleep and eat at a time like this.

As he entered the atmosphere, his ship's radio came to life.

"Ship's registry and name of commander, please," said a mechanical voice.

"BPM11216, Jefferson Nighthawk commanding."

"Business on Goldenhue?"

"I live here," said Nighthawk. "Put me through to a human supervisor, please."

"Checking . . . matching voiceprint . . . you are Jefferson Nighthawk, resident of Goldenhue. I will patch you through to my supervisor."

An instant later a holograph of a balding man with a carefully-manicured goatee flashed into existence in front of the ship's computer.

"Hi, Jefferson. What can I do for you?"

"Hi, Max," replied Nighthawk. "I need to know if any ship with a New Barcelona registry has landed in the past day."

"Let me check," said the man, looking at a spot that seemed to be just beyond Nighthawk's left shoulder. "Yes, one touched down a little more than three hours ago. It's registered to James Mendes."

"Thanks, Max," said Nighthawk. "Now I need one more favor."

"What's that?"

"Quarantine the ship for ninety minutes, and don't let anyone put Sarah on it."

"I don't know if I can do that, Jefferson."

"Trust me—if there wasn't paper on both men before yesterday, I guarantee there is now."

"Both?"

"Yeah, there are two of them. Both named Mendes, though neither of them are James."

"What's going on?" asked Max.

"I'll catch you up on all the details later," promised Nighthawk.

"What do I do after ninety minutes?"

"Keep the ship, auction it, whatever you want. They won't be using it."

"Is Sarah all right?"

"I hope so. I just want it quarantined in case they're going to the spaceport while I'm heading to the house—but I don't think they will. It's me they want, not her."

"I can have a shuttle waiting for you," offered Max. "It'll get you to your house a lot quicker than anything else you could use."

"Thanks," said Nighthawk. "I'll take you up on that."

He broke the connection as the ship entered the atmosphere and let the automatic pilot set it down as his reserved landing spot. The shuttle was waiting for him, and he got right into it, fed the coordinates of his house into the navigational computer, and ordered it to take off. It immediately began racing toward his home.

He figured it would take him five minutes to reach his destination. Any ground conveyance would have taken the Mendes brothers close to forty minutes, maybe longer. And they would have had to clear Customs and Immigration, purchase visas, and find a vehicle, so he figured that they would reach the house less than an hour ahead of him.

He brought the shuttle to a halt a little more than half a mile from the house, in a clearing that couldn't be seen from any of the windows. If they had come to kill Sarah she

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