Prison Ship by Bowers Michael

Author:Bowers, Michael [Michael, Bowers,]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: PENGUIN group
Published: 2011-03-22T03:22:35+00:00

CHAPTER 15

STEINER sat alone in the seat of one of the TRAC vehicles in the landing bay, gathering his resolve for what needed to be done next. The drone of the Marauder’s engines vibrated through the hull and the TRAC’s frame like a relaxing massage. The loudest sound in the empty bay was his own heartbeat. It was ironic that this quiet arena would soon be the scene of a vicious confrontation, one that he might not survive.

He tensed when the door to the landing bay opened. Tramer stepped inside, then resealed the entrance.

Steiner climbed down from the seat and positioned himself behind one of the thick tires. No doubt, Tramer’s sensors had already pinpointed his location. Looking up, he could see the blue light from the sensor orb reflecting off the top of the armored vehicle.

“You wished to see me?” The weapons officer’s synthesized voice echoed within the empty landing bay.

“Come closer,” Steiner shouted from his hiding place.

The hum of the mechanical body grew nearer. “We are two hours away from our rendezvous with the Magellan. Do you have any further orders for me before we arrive?”

Steiner recalled the many hours he had labored over the decision of confronting the weapons officer there.

“Is something wrong?” Tramer’s voice sounded about thirty feet away.

Steiner closed his eyes for just a moment to calm himself. Visions of Barker being torn apart without mercy by the hidden assault guns behind Tramer’s breastplate tormented him.

Steiner grabbed a handheld missile launcher that he had hidden under the seat of the TRAC. He stepped out into the open and took aim at Tramer.

“Captain?” Tramer asked, stopping fifteen feet away, close enough for Steiner to see his reflection within the shiny breastplate.

Looking into the pale face, Steiner swore he could see bewilderment and concern—not anger. That would soon change.

His finger tensed on the trigger, ready to pull it back if he detected any movement around Tramer’s chest region. “Why did you kill Joseph Barker?” he asked, trying to sound calm.

Tramer’s gaze shifted toward the back wall, breaking eye contact with Steiner. An emotionless mask replaced the hint of compassion in the pale face. It was as if he had reverted back to acting like a lifeless machine.

“During the celebration last night, I accessed the visual records of Barker’s death,” Steiner said. “He has the exact same wound as the one you inflicted on the enemy personnel of Hurot IV. It is also the same as was found on the body in the gunnery port four weeks ago.”

Still, Tramer didn’t respond. The silence was so deep that Steiner could hear air being sucked in by the respirator on the back of the weapons officer’s neck.

Steiner swallowed hard. “I wanted to believe you were the same Maxwell Tramer I once knew, but that’s impossible now. You’ve murdered people at your own discretion. Maxwell would have never done that.”

“Barker was a spy,” Tramer answered abruptly.

The sheer absurdity of the statement stunned Steiner. “That’s exactly what you claimed about Mason, and you were wrong.

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