Page 52 of Escape Velocity

Chapter Twelve

Max’s head turned toward Amber, his gaze boring into her. “And how would you do that?”

She pulled herself up straighter. “I will need your help. You will take me to his estate and explain that delivery was delayed because the men on Naxion tried to kill you. You have a burn to prove it. We’ll figure out a way for me to get in there with a weapon.”

“Absolutely not. Too crazy dangerous,” he shot back.

She kept her voice steady. “You have a better idea?”

“No.”

Across the table, Rafe shifted in his seat. “Maybe she’s on to something.”

Max jerked toward him his eyes flashing. “I’m not putting her in danger to save our asses.”

Amber leaned forward. “He wouldn’t be expecting it. You’d have surprise on your side.”

Max clenched his fists. “That sure as slat isn’t enough.”

Rafe kept his voice even. “I think we could do it, if we had help.”

“From whom?” Max demanded.

“The swamp rats.”

“Like hell,” he spat out.

Amber kept her voice calm as she looked toward Max. “What can you tell me about them?”

“They keep to themselves.”

“But they can’t be a compete mystery,” Amber pressed. “You said some of them leave and go to Port City.”

Max thought for a few moments. “Okay, what I know is that they come originally from a place on old Earth that was a lot like where they live now. They were always clannish. The story is that they stuck together on the transport ship, and when they got to Danalon, they stole a bunch of the provisions intended for the colony and disappeared into the swamp. The authorities tried to round them up, but they were too good at fading into the wild country. And they can still disappear when they want to. They have a society where the men make the decisions. They’re hard workers.” He stopped for a moment. “And they are fierce and unpredictable.”

“How do you know all that?”

“Everybody knows their background on Earth and their early history. And the life they’ve chosen takes hard work. They don’t have replicators or other modern conveniences. They catch their food in the swamp and cook it.”

She swung toward Rafe. “What else do you know about them?”

Rafe spread his hands. “Not a lot.”

“So, we’d be taking a chance.”

“If we want their help, we have to,” Max interjected.

“You told me one of the workers on his estate already has a grudge against him. I’ll bet there are a lot more. Tudor is already sure he can do anything he wants to those people.”

“What was it that he did?” Rafe asked.

“He killed the guy’s dog for digging in his flower bed.”

“And that’s only one person who reported something,” Amber said.

“We’re not going to rush off and implement any plans until we’ve . . .”

“What?” Amber demanded. “From here, we can’t tell the situation at all.”

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