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Amos shook his head. “Not without a map, we won’t. You get lost in here, you’re in trouble,” he said.
Ignoring them, Holden said, “Okay, so we wait for everyone to move to the radiation shelters and then we leave.”
Miller nodded at him, and then the two men sat staring at each other for a moment. The air between them seemed to thicken, the silence taking on a meaning of its own. Miller shrugged like his jacket itched.
“Why do you think a bunch of Ceres mobsters are moving everyone to radiation shelters when there’s no actual radiation danger?” Holden finally said. “And why are the Eros cops letting them?”
“Good questions,” Miller said.
“If they were using these yahoos, it helps explain why their attempted kidnapping at the hotel went so poorly. They don’t seem like pros.”
“Nope,” Miller said. “That’s not their usual area of expertise.”
“Would you two be quiet?” Naomi said.
For almost a minute they were.
“It’d be really stupid,” Holden said, “to go take a look at what’s going on, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes. Whatever’s going on at those shelters, you know that’s where all the guards and patrols will be,” Miller said.
“Yeah,” Holden said.
“Captain,” Naomi said, a warning in her voice.
“Still,” Holden said, talking to Miller, “you hate a mystery.”
“I do at that,” Miller replied with a nod and a faint smile. “And you, my friend, are a damn busybody.”
“It’s been said.”
“Goddamn it,” Naomi said quietly.
“What is it, Boss?” Amos asked.
“These two just broke our getaway plan,” Naomi replied. Then she said to Holden, “You guys are going to be very bad for each other and, by extension, us.”
“No,” Holden replied. “You aren’t coming along. You stay here with Amos and Alex. Give us”—he looked at his terminal—“three hours to go look and come back. If we aren’t here—”
“We leave you to the gangsters and the three of us get jobs on Tycho and live happily ever after,” Naomi said.
“Yeah,” Holden said with a grin. “Don’t be a hero.”
“Wouldn’t even consider it, sir.”
Holden crouched in the shadows outside the maintenance hatch and watched as Ceres mobsters dressed in police riot gear led the citizens of Eros away in small groups. The PA system continued to declare the possibility of radiological danger and exhorted the citizens and guests of Eros to cooperate fully with emergency personnel. Holden had selected a group to follow and was getting ready to move when Miller placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Wait,” Miller said. “I want to make a call.”
He quickly dialed up a number on his hand terminal, and after a few moments, a flat gray Network Not Available message appeared.
“Phone is down?” Holden asked.
“That’s the first thing I’d do, too,” Miller replied.
“I see,” Holden said even though he really didn’t.
“Well, I guess it’s just you and me,” Miller said, then took the magazine out of his gun and began reloading it with cartridges he pulled out of his coat pocket.
Even though he’d had enough of gunfights to last him the rest of his life, Holden took out his gun and checked the magazine as well. He’d replaced it after the shoot-out in the hotel, and it was full. He racked it and put it back in the waistband of his pants. Miller, he noticed, kept his out, holding it close to his thigh, where his coat mostly covered it.
It wasn’t difficult following the groups up through the station toward the inner sections where the radiation shelters were. As long as they kept moving in the same direction as the crowds, no one gave them a second look. Holden made a mental note of the many corridor intersections where men in riot gear stood guard. It would be much tougher coming back down.
When the group they were following eventually stopped outside a large metal door marked with the ancient radiation symbol, Holden and Miller slipped off to the side and hid behind a large planter filled with ferns and a couple of stunted trees. Holden watched the fake riot cops order everyone into the shelter and then seal the door behind them with the swipe of a card. All but one of them left, the remaining one standing guard outside the door.
Miller whispered, “Let’s ask him to let us in.”
“Follow my lead,” Holden replied, then stood up and began walking toward the guard.
“Hey, shithead, you supposed to be in a shelter or in the casino, so get the f**k back to your group,” the guard said, his hand on the butt of his gun.
Holden held up his hands placatingly, smiled, and kept walking. “Hey, I lost my group. Got mixed up somehow. I’m not from here, you know,” he said.
The guard pointed down the corridor with the stun baton in his left hand.
“Go that way till you hit the ramps down,” he said.
Miller seemed to appear out of nowhere in the dimly lit corridor, his gun already out and pointed at the guard’s head. He thumbed off the safety with an audible click.
“How about we just join the group already inside?” he said. “Open it up.”
The guard looked at Miller out of the corners of his eyes, not turning his head at all. His hands went up, and he dropped the baton.
“You don’t want to do that, man,” the fake cop said.
“I kind of think he does,” Holden said. “You should do what he says. He’s not a very nice person.”
Miller pushed the barrel of his gun against the guard’s head and said, “You know what we used to call a ‘no-brainer’ back at the station house? It’s when a shot to the head actually blows the entire brain out of someone’s skull. It usually happens when a gun is pressed to the victim’s head right about here. The gas’s got nowhere to go. Pops the brain right out through the exit wound.”
“They said not to open these up once they’d been sealed, man,” the guard said, speaking so fast he ran all the words together. “They were pretty serious about that.”
“This is the last time I ask,” Miller said. “Next time I just use the card I took off your body.”
Holden turned the guard around to face the door and pulled the handgun out of the man’s belt holster. He hoped all Miller’s threats were just threats. He suspected they weren’t.
