The Outposter

by Gordon R. Dickson

  "Of course," said Jaseth, nodding.

  "But, nice as it is," said Mark, "I mean the praise from Earth, the attention, even the re­parations the Meda V'Dan were so generous as to pay when we handed back the renegades and their two ships—there's a drawback to it all. It puts Abruzzi Fourteen a little too much in the spotlight. We're working hard to im­prove things so this colony of ours can stand on its own feet, but production or crop fail­ures, or any of a dozen things, can always trip us up. And if something like that does, there are people back on Earth in government who may blame it on the fact this business of driving off the renegade Meda V'Dan has gone to our heads."

  "Always possible, yes," said Jaseth.

  "But there could be an answer to it that'd also be an answer to these people back at the Earth-City who don't seem to understand how we happened to have four small Navy ships without Navy men to man them," Mark said.

  "In fact, it's the sort of answer that could solve all our problems, past and future."

  "And future?" said Jaseth.

  "You know," said Mark, shrugging, "it's simply a matter of your telling Navy HQ back on Earth that your letting us have the four ships was part of a quiet experiment on your part in furthering the self-sufficiency of the Colonies like ours. After all, that's essentially what it was. You might even ask permission to extend the experiment by making more ships available to us and other Colonies. Not only would it look good, but it would reduce the pressure on your own duty ships to pro­tect against the Meda V'Dan renegades."

  "More ships and weapons?" Jaseth shook his head slowly. "No, I don't think so. But your other suggestion isn't bad. I think—"

  "It'd be useless without some concrete new evidence to back it up," Mark said. "After all, Abruzzi Fourteen probably invited retaliation from other renegade Meda V'Dan because of the way we treated those three ships. It wouldn't do to have us hit again, and this time be wiped out for lack of the necessary defen­sive equipment. Also, it'd look unnatural if, your experiment having worked, you didn't continue to push it forward vigorously. Above all, we just might find ourselves being visited by some news people from Earth, and the sight of recently arrived equipment and mili­tary supplies would go a long way toward fill­ing in any gaps there might be in the memo­ries of my people about your intention to help from the very start."

  "Of course," said Jaseth, frowning at his cocktail glass. "Earth HQ might not ap­prove ..."

  "They can hardly avoid approving, can they?" Mark said. "With all this publicity, which goes a long way in answering some of the Navy's government critics who've been complaining about inactivity at the Base here?"

  "But, then," said Jaseth, glancing over at Ulla, who with her own cocktail glass was sit­ting silently apart, listening, "there's that matter of your going to a home world of the Meda V'Dan the way you did, almost inviting a raid."

  "I don't find anything in the law or Colony Regulations against it," said Mark. "And of course we've been assured by your Navy peo­ple for years that the Meda V'Dan are com­pletely peaceful and friendly—with the excep­tion, of course, of occasional renegades."

  "Nonetheless," said Jaseth. "You were un­doubtedly aware that you were taking a risk."

  "Oh, certainly," said Mark. "We might have run into renegades on the way there, for ex­ample. Luckily, however, we made it safely and even set up a profitable trade pact with the peaceful authorities of the Meda V'Dan— a pact we'll have to carry through now, natu­rally, if we don't want to offend them. But you're right about all this attracting more attention from renegades. Come to think of it, that makes it all the more important that the colony gets more ships, and larger ones, as soon as possible. I'm indebted to you for pointing it out."

  "I don't believe I did. It was your con­clusion," said Jaseth mildly. He put his glass down on the low table between their chairs. "Still, I'll have to think this matter over. How about it? Shall we go to dinner now?"

  The three of them got up and went into the adjoining dining room, talking about other things. Ulla took part easily in this conver­sation. She had come here with Mark five days before, and already intimated that she would be going back with him to Abruzzi Station. Since that first morning before the raid, they had talked privately again. Mark did not know whether what he had said to her had gotten through or not. But she had been undeniably helpful to him here at the Base in his dealings with her father and other Navy officers. Only, he caught her watching him at odd times, as if she were secretly observing him.

  He had not said anything more to her about anything important. There had been no apparent need, and besides, he had been left with the feeling that he had said too much al­ready. Frankly, he admitted to being afraid that if he started to talk to her on any matters, his tongue might run away with him again, and this time there was no telling what he might find himself saying. He reminded him­self harshly that his future was short in any case, and held no room for women, and so tried to put Ulla completely from his mind.

  The other dinner guests—some twenty Base officers, a few wives, and a couple of important salesmen—stood and applauded briefly, Navy fashion, as their host, his daughter, and the other guest of honour entered. Jaseth took the head of the long, narrow table, seating Mark on his right and Ulla on his left. On the other side of Mark was a general of the Marines whom Mark had met two days before at the cocktail party that had celebrated Mark's arrival.

  "Hear you're leaving at the end of the week," the Marine general said to Mark, once they were all seated.

  "That's right," Mark nodded.

  "Too bad." The general was a tall man in his late twenties, already running to fat. "If you could just wait around until the first of next week, we could start hosting you all over again when Taraki—admiral-general of the Red—starts his tour at the Base and Jaseth, here, goes home." The general looked across at Jaseth. "How about it, Jaseth? Talk Mark into staying into next week, will you?"

  "Doubt if I could," Jaseth said.

  "No," grumbled the Marine general, cheer­fully, "because you don't care enough. You're headed home. How about the rest of us who have to stay here?"

  "Don't let it prey on you, Johnny," said Jaseth. "You've got only four months to go be­fore you'll be headed home, too."

  "Four months! Two thirds of a tour of duty! Damn you, Jaseth, you talk like it was three days!"

  Jaseth laughed and turned to Ulla.

  "He doesn't care," said Johnny, leaning confidentially close to Mark, and nodding at Jaseth. "I won't either, when I get to be ad­miral-general. Meanwhile, it's nothing but duty, duty, duty—double duty, thanks to you and your Meda V'Dan, damn it."

  "Thanks to me?" Mark asked. Johnny had been making the acquaintance of more than one crushed rum during the before-dinner hour, and his breath was heavy at this con­spiratorial distance.

  "Thanks to the fuss back at Earth-City you kicked up by nailing a couple of renegade ships," he said, "now we've got patrol exer­cises. Patrol exercises, damn it! Can you imagine a bunch, any bunch, of EmVeeDee renegades with the guts to hit a Navy wing on patrol? They learned better than that forty years ago. Besides—shouldn't tell you this. Restricted information, but hell, you're on our side—we've already sent confidential word to the EmVeeDee authorities telling them there's a real stink being kicked up by that raid on you, and for once they've got to sit on their renegades for a while."

  "What do you think?" said Mark. "Do you think the Meda V'Dan authorities will do it?"

  "Why, hell, yes!" muttered Johnny. He low­ered his voice still further. "You know as well as I do, that's a lot of whatever-you-want-to-call-it, their not being able to hold down their renegades when they want to. We know that. They know we know it. And usually we get along just fine. Hell, nobody minds a few stations being hit from time to time—say a couple a month. That's all in the statistics.

  No offence, I know you're an outposter your­self. But you've had a good Earth-City edu­cation. You know we can't go to war over a few casualties a
week. You understand that."

  "I've seen it," said Mark.

  "There. Said you'd understand. What I say myself, let the damn aliens nibble a bit from time to time and they won't get hungry enough to take a big bite. But at the same time, hell, if they make a mistake and a lot of fuss is made about one of their raids, then they've got to play ball with us until things calm down again. That's just common sense. Right?"

  "Right," said Mark.

  "And those EmVeeDee's have got it—com­mon sense I mean," said Johnny, "when it comes to looking after their own interest. They may be aliens, but they've got common sense. Do you want to hand down the wine bottle there? Seems like I'm empty here again."

  Mark passed the bottle.

  He spent another five days mainly in attend­ing day and evening social occasions at the base. He said no more to Jaseth, however, about the added ships for which he had asked. But on the evening of the sixth day—just be­fore the morning on which Jaseth was to re­turn to Earth until his next tour of duty as the Base commanding officer, six months hence— he drew Mark aside during a small party in the Officers Club.

  "I'd thought Ulla might want to go back to Earth with me when I go," the older man said.

  "But it seems she wants to stay out here at your station. That worries me a little. After all, you've already been raided once."

  "I don't think we'll be raided again," said Mark.

  "But," said Jaseth, "you've asked me for these ships—"

  "I asked for the ships with the general situ­ation in mind," said Mark, meeting the older man's eyes. "Ulla's staying is a specific matter."

  "Ah ... she tells me Jarl Rakkal..." Jaseth hesitated. For a moment the older man seemed genuinely sincere and concerned. "I don't suppose you could tell me—"

  "I have my hands full with the station and the colony," said Mark coldly.

  "Oh? I see. Well"—Jaseth's voice was re­lieved—"you'll be glad to hear I've finally decided to let you have the ships and materials you asked for—"

  "And cadre personnel to train my colonists in handling them?" said Mark.

  "Cadre?" Jaseth looked sharply at him. "Oh, no, not that. I can explain ships back on Earth. I can explain that this was a secret project of mine and that's why you didn't admit to it sooner. I can justify more ships and any amount of supplies you want. But Navy personnel—no. HQ's not going to have any objection to your colonists making them­selves useful, but it's the Navy keeps the peace here in outer space. The Navy, and no one else!"

  "The ships'll have to do, then," said Mark.

  "I want regulation cruiser class vessels, mass forty—twelve of them."

  "Twelve? A wing and a half?" Jaseth stared. "You can't crew that many. Not if half your colonists were rated spacemen!"

  "I'll take them anyway," said Mark. They looked at each other. "If I did that without asking you, it'd be six months before you even noticed they were gone from this base."

  Slowly, Jaseth nodded.

  "I'll make out the orders tonight," he said. "You can start moving them out tomorrow— with your own crews and officers."

  "That's why I brought along three scout ships when I came," Mark said. "I've got my navigator and enough people to lift the extra ships and set them down on Garnera Six— and that's all it takes."

  Two days later, however, when the twelve heavy vessels and the three scouts were back in space and well away from observation on the scan cubes of Navy Base, Mark called Maura Vols into the command area from the spacious room she now occupied as navigator and position officer in the cruiser Mark had chosen to use as flagship.

  "We'll change our destination point now," he told her. "From Garnera Six to Point One, in that list of destination codes I gave you."

  Ulla, who was with him in the command area, looked about sharply at his words.

  "The whole wing to Point One?" Maura asked. She had become crisp and self-assured, and she no longer recalculated several times before ordering a position shift.

  "The wing and the scouts—all of us," said Mark. Ulla came over as Maura turned and went out of the room.

  "Point One?" Ulla asked. "What's that? Or shouldn't I ask?"

  "When I went to see the Meda V'Dan," Mark said, "I agreed to a trading deal with them involving sixty-seven pieces of handicraft made by my colonists. Point One is the space point where we were to meet them to ex­change goods."

  She looked startled.

  "You think they'll be there—after what you did to those three alien ships that tried to raid Abruzzi Station?"

  "Absolutely," said Mark. "One of the main principles of the Meda V'Dan is that there's no connection or responsibility between separate acts by different individuals. The ones we'll meet are going to act as if they never heard of the three ships that tried to raid Abruzzi Fourteen, and all we have to do is do the same."

  "Even when you show up with twelve full cruisers?"

  "We won't show up with twelve all at once," said Mark. "We'll move in just one ship to begin with and then add others."

  When they came to the edge of the cruiser's scan-cube range, Mark paused to locate the Meda V'Dan. They were discovered after a six-hour search—three mass-thirty-six ships, only slightly smaller than Mark's cruisers, waiting for contact. Three such ships were several times the strength needed to handle four heavy scouts such as Abruzzi Station had proved to have during the raid, and the addi­tion of a single mass-forty cruiser to reinforce the scouts still left the Meda V'Dan ships with a comfortable edge in weapons and armour for any spatial confrontation.

  Therefore, the three alien ships showed no alarm when Mark's cruiser appeared alone on a short shift to within laser talk-beam range.

  "Meda V'Dan," said Mark, when the beam was stabilized, "this is Outposter Station Commander Mark Ten Roos with the pieces of art we agreed to trade you. Do you have the flame handguns you agreed to trade us in ex­change?"

  There was a moment's pause, filled by the hiss and crackle of minor interference, for the talk beam was close to its extreme range. Then a heavy-voiced Meda V'Dan answered.

  [I am the Lord and Great Captain Fateful Dreaming Man,] the Meda V'Dan said. [I and my two brother Lords and Great Captains bring you the finest of hand weapons for that which you bring us in exchange. But if your trade items are in any way deficient, take warning. You will be charged proportionately for whatever value you have attempted to cheat us by.]

  "I can't object to that," said Mark. "So, I'll just give you the same warning, and charge you the same way, if your weapons strike me as being deficient in value."

  [Do not be presumptuous,] retorted the voice of Fateful Dreaming Man. [It is for us to judge the bargain and you to be judged—]

  The Meda V'Dan's voice broke off abruptly. Two more of Mark's cruisers had shifted into positions flanking the row of Meda V'Dan's ships.

  "Forgive me if what I said sounded like pre­sumption," said Mark. "I only meant to sug­gest that everything ought to be equal. Cer­tainly you agree to that?"

  Three more ex-Navy cruisers appeared to­gether behind the Meda V'Dan ships.

  There was silence from the speaker jacked into the talk-beam receiver aboard Mark's cruiser. It lasted for the tense space of perhaps two minutes while the skeleton crews aboard the human vessels counted the seconds one by one.

  [I will accept your explanation,] rattled the speaker suddenly. [You may board the centre of our three vessels with three individuals bearing your trade items.]

  "No," said Mark. "You can board my first vessel to appear here with one individual, after you've floated the containers of your hand weapons across to us and we've inspected them. And unless the Lord and Great Captain Fateful Dreaming Man doesn't care to risk himself personally, I suggest he be the individual."

  [The Lord and Great Captain Fateful Dreaming Man,] retorted the speaker immedi­ately, [is beyond and above and unknowing of risk. But he receives guests in courtesy and visits only in courtesy. Let him be received in courtesy, and Fateful Dreaming M
an will enter your ship either alone or in company.]

  "We're courteous," said Mark. "We're always courteous to our good friends the Meda VDan."

  [I will come.]

  Fateful Dreaming Man was as good as his promise, once Mark had examined the flame weapons and found them all new and in good order. The Meda V'Dan captain rode across from his ship to Mark's cruiser in a one-man safety boat, and accepted the box containing the small carved elephants from Mark's hands. He opened the box and examined them, carefully and individually, then put them all back into the box. An agreement was made for another trade in four weeks.

  [We are agreed,] he said. [I will go back to my ship.]

  "Just one thing," said Mark. The alien waited. "I want you to carry a message for me back to the Meda V'Dan. The ships of our Navy are going to be in space more in the near future than they have been for some years. Tell your people not to worry about any rene­gade Meda V'Dan who might make the mis­take of attacking these Navy ships. Such rene­gades will have me to deal with—and I'll follow them anywhere I have to, to take care of them. Will you remember to tell your peo­ple that?"

  Fateful Dreaming Man glanced across the cruiser control area to the scan cube in which the lights of his three ships burned, surround­ed by the lights of Mark's six larger vessels.

  [I will remember,] the Meda V'Dan said, [and tell them.]

  "Good," said Mark. "So will I. And just to make sure, I'll be reminding your people each time they come to trade with me."

  The Meda V'Dan left. Mark turned to Maura Vols.

  "Home," he ordered.

  Chapter Fourteen

  When they landed back at Abruzzi Station with four of the big cruisers—the other eight having been dispersed in wooded areas of the station where they would be hidden—there was a fine-boned, dark skinned man, slightly taller but much more frail-looking than Jaseth Showell, among those waiting to wel­come them. This man sought out Mark among those leaving the flagship vessel.

  "Mark!" he said, reaching out both hands to take Mark's arms like someone whose eye­sight is no longer reliable.