Jinx On a Terran Inheritance

by Brian Daley

  Alacrity let out a breath he'd been holding for a long time.

  "I may have to go back on my word and write about Janusz, and Victoria too." Sintilla sighed. " 'Love conquers all.' It always sells big."

  "Of course, they had a little help from biology, making Vic decide what she should do and all," Alacrity reminded her.

  Floyt broke his preoccupation with the displays and laughed for what seemed like the first time in years. "They had a lot more than biology going for them. Or am I wrong, Corva?"

  The Srillan was uncharacteristically remote, still busy with the controls. "I have no idea what you mean, Hobart."

  "What I mean is that coincidences do happen, like Victoria's conceiving just at this time. I guess I'd have accepted it too, except—those weren't the control auxiliaries you were working on when I almost fell over you. I know; I looked it up. They were the utilities, including the hookup for the mediscan computer."

  "Corva, I thought you were sworn by your compact not to interfere?" Sintilla said to break the silence.

  "I did not interfere," Corva contradicted, "as such. But even a contrition-knight can indulge in a little well-intended cheating."

  Sintilla kissed him on his furry head. "I wonder what'll happen when they find out she's not pregnant?" Alacrity said.

  "One of two things. And I bet I know which," Floyt replied. "Good work, Corva."

  "Don't mention it. Now, can someone tell me what 'Utah' is?"

  The Spican interception had been last minute indeed. Before long they were entering Earth's upper atmosphere. The Harpy's detectors said the planet's antiquated warning systems were on full alert, but nothing was picking them up.

  "What I'm worried about is your Citizen Ash," Sintilla said. "The Conspiracy might've gotten to him by now, put him out of the picture."

  "You don't know Citizen Ash," Alacrity commented as he finished stowing the last of the spacesuits. "And besides, all the Alphas know about so far is the Astraea Imprimatur, and they think she's been driven away. I doubt they've tried to tangle with Ash."

  No detectors could pick up the spaceboat, but eyes could. Corva told them all to fasten in as he cut a screaming trail into the atmosphere.

  "What will they throw at us?" Alacrity asked from the copilot's poz.

  "How should I know?" Floyt answered over the intercom. "Nothing terribly modern, I should think."

  "I'm tracking missiles, or something like them," Corva said. "And I think I've got massive energy buildups, particle beam weapons perhaps."

  But the missiles and interceptor drones, their guidance systems gulled, couldn't get a lock on the spaceboat; Corva was careful not to ram into one by chance. It was their good luck that Terra didn't throw something even older and slower at them, something guided by remote optical pickups. The computers that were supposed to aim and fire the beam weapons continued to insist that there was nothing there to shoot at.

  "I'm registering a big ground-level explosion here," Alacrity said. "I think one of the beam installations just overloaded and went blooey."

  No vessel had moved through Terra's sky that fast in two hundred years. They began their approach on the Utah urbanplex a hemisphere away. "How do we find Ash?" Sintilla thought to ask. "I mean how to we pinpoint him?"

  "Victoria tricked his accessor index out of the SATNET," Alacrity explained. "The net won't put us through, but Ash is a shrewd guy; he left his accessor keyed, and we'll home on him."

  "Double shrewd," Sintilla said. "Now if he's just trusting, credulous, open-minded, and invincible."

  "And if we are visited by the Gift of Persuasion," Corva thought to include.

  Somehow, Earthservice came up with three big, armed peaceguardian sky vans, which flew at them in an unpracticed attack formation as the Harpy, having shed most of her speed, came in toward the urbanplex. Two kilometers below, on the roof of the admin center, according to instruments, was Citizen Ash.

  The spaceboat was no match for a Spican patrol craft, but she outclassed anything the Terrans could put up. Corva didn't want to cause any injuries he didn't have to, both from compassion and because the selling job ahead of them would be hard enough. He avoided their volleys—riot-control energy weapons and a few wall-openers—while Alacrity had the Harpy's guns deftly burn up some grilles and trim. Two vans withdrew, damaged, and the third followed, intact but chastened.

  "Now look," Alacrity said over the cop control net, "we're landing peaceably, but I'm warning you: we've got a lot of very dangerous weapons and ordnance inboard. If you attack again, anything could happen."

  He played around with the signal-warfare suite a little more and found that they were close enough to pick up Ash's accessor directly. Alacrity patched it through to the peaceguardian net.

  "This is Citizen Ash speaking. On my authority, all peace-guardian units are to withdraw and maintain their distance. There are to be no further actions against that vessel or its occupants."

  The regional peaceguardian commander got on. "I have my orders from Alpha-Bureaucrat Stemp."

  "And I'm countermanding them. You are obstructing me in the discharge of my office."

  The attacks hadn't done much good anyway and the commander, like most Terrans, had a deep-rooted fear of offworld weapons and a profound uneasiness where Citizen Ash was concerned. He called off the vans but held his units ready.

  The Harpy came in on the roof, detectors alert, weapons ready. "The admin center." Alacrity groaned. "Did he have to pick the enemy's backyard?" The admin center was only a small part of the urbanplex, but its roof was forty hectares or so of giant outlets, intakes, vents, stacks, and waste heat dissipators.

  The boat landed on one of the largest open areas, roughly square, some 150 meters on a side, near a bank of chuteshafts. Alacrity, peering through the viewpane, noticed lots of surveillance and security equipment.

  "What now?" Sintilla asked.

  "What do you think, Hobart? Guns or no?" Corva said. "Are those offensive weapons along with the security pickups on the surveillance pylons?"

  "They could be. This is a restricted area. But we didn't come here to shoot it out, did we?"

  "That doesn't mean it can't happen," Alacrity said, buckling on his gun. Floyt looked at the Webley for a second, then carefully left it in his seat. Corva and Sintilla didn't arm themselves either.

  "Look!" Sintilla was pointing through a viewpane at Citizen Ash. He was dressed in his customary black—a loose shirt with ruffled cuffs and high, frilly collar, tapered trousers, and gleaming shoes. He was walking unhurriedly in their direction. He also wore a sleeveless manteau, open at the front, and satiny sash wound around a slim waist, all in his chosen color.

  He was medium Earther height, two or three centimeters taller than Floyt, tanned and handsome in the way the Terrans still called "Mediterranean," with a meticulous mustache.

  "Shouldn't one of us stay inboard?" Sintiila asked.

  "You may if you wish to, of course," Corva answered. "I have been waiting for this too long. And we must win our case here, now. All of us who feel up to it must bear witness."

  The four stepped to the lock as Citizen Ash drew near. Floyt went first, wearing his Inheritor's belt, carrying a satchel filled with Camarilla information.

  "It seems you've both been busy," Ash said by way of greeting to Floyt and Alacrity as they jumped down. They looked gaunt and exhausted.

  Alacrity still had a wan smile left in him. "Sorry to drop in on you like this."

  "I'd like to say that we'll only ask a minute of your time," Floyt told Ash, "but that wouldn't be true."

  Ash had a rejoinder but forgot it, and paled. Corva had emerged from the lock and turned to help Sintilla down.

  "How dare you," Ash said in a dire monotone. "A Srillan. Whatever happens to you now, you'll have earned. Say whatever you came to say. So, this is what Weir wanted us to have."

  "No; this is." Floyt opened the satchel, showing the documents and data. "And this is!" He held out an old holo 2-D
of a conference table. There were officials of the vanished Terran Union Armed Forces and the Spican Colonial Fleet—and Srillans. Faces and poses indicated that it had been taken covertly.

  "Two hundred years ago it started, when Earth was devastated," Floyt maintained, willing his voice to ring true. "But, Citizen Ash, it's still going on today! We have the proof; we know where there's more to be had. Do you understand what I'm saying? Earth wasn't overwhelmed, wasn't beaten; she was sacrificed. She was betrayed. And Terra is not in reduced circumstances by the natural order of things. She is being held there."

  He offered another document, an agreement signed by the original Camarillans. Sintilla interwined her fingers with Alacrity's and squeezed. Ash had been gazing at the 2-D. Slowly, unwillingly, he reached out and took the second document from Floyt. And a third. A fourth.

  The chuteshaft indicators lit up. A moment later doors slid aside and Alpha-Bureaucrat Stemp rushed out along with Alpha Chin and Supervisor Bear, flanked by senior peaceguardian brass and some of the biggest rankers Floyt had ever seen.

  "Stand where you are!" Stemp bawled, charging at them, pushing a couple of peacers out front for cover. "This illegal meeting is terminated. All offworlders and Functionary Third Class Floyt are under arrest!"

  Ash watched them come, and when they were near, held up the flat of his palm to halt them in that odd gesture Alacrity had seen him use before. "Come no further; I am conducting an inquiry here."

  The peacers in the lead were massive, bull-necked colonels, but they slowed, looking to Stemp for further instructions. Stemp shoved them aside. "There are no grounds for an inquiry by the executioner's office! There has been invasion, unprovoked attack, and con—that is, collusion, with intent to subvert."

  "You were about to say 'conspiracy,' " Corva corrected in an undertone, but they all heard it. Bear and the peacers weren't sure what to do at the sight of the Srillan except pop their eyes at him. Stemp went back on the offensive.

  "You traitors!" he sneered at Floyt and Alacrity. "You, Fitzhugh! We gave you back your life and this is how you repay us and keep your word. And as for you, Floyt, you're living proof that offworld is poison to Earthers. Look how you've stabbed Terra in the back! A Srillan! And you tried to land a starship! You're a pack of mad dogs!"

  "We brought back the Terran Inheritance," Floyt countered.

  "We were just showing it to Citizen Ash, would you like to see?" Alacrity challenged.

  Stemp had gone white, but Alpha-Bureaucrat Chin rallied. "That's not the issue here! You and your cohorts are under arrest! Officers!" She prodded one of the peacers.

  Ash was frowning a bit now, looking stubborn. He waved a finger at the peacers, metronome fashion, keeping them back. "I think I will hear more about this Camarilla."

  "This isn't in your purview—whatever it's about," Stemp argued. "Your official powers don't extend to this. What we have here is a case for the High Bench itself. Yes, this is a matter for the peaceguardian investigators and the Justice Division. You have no authority in it. Even you operate under certain constraints, bear in mind."

  One of the colonels coughed tentatively. "Alpha-Bureaucrat Stemp is quite right, sir. This case has not been referred to your office." He faced Alacrity with one hand on his gun.

  The surveillance pickups and weapons installations—Alacrity could see that was what they were—were all aligned at the confrontation now. The colonel said, "Hand over that weapon and any others you people may have, and surrender. You're under arrest."

  Ash said, "This is a suspect proceeding. I petition you, peaceguardians and Alpha-Bureaucrats, to deviate from official procedure. I'd like to resolve my misgivings here and now."

  "Petition denied," Stemp rapped, regaining his confidence. "Be advised: you yourself are obstructing justice."

  Ash looked about him, at the Alphas, peacers, at Corva and Sintilla, at the Harpy—and at Floyt and Alacrity last of all. An air of melancholy was on him. The powers of the executioner were conferred only in conjunction with deep and powerful behavioral engineering administered by the Office of the Executioner—passed along by Ash's predecessors.

  "They—he's right," Ash confessed. "I function within certain limits. My authority doesn't extend to this situation, though I wish it were otherwise. I can't help you."

  He made to give the evidence back to Floyt, but Stemp came forward, hand extended. "I'll just take that.

  The cop was about to demand Alacrity's gun again. Alacrity eyed the peacers and the pylon installations, calculating his chances in a Shootout. He calculated them as just about nil.

  Floyt moved suddenly, desperate that Stemp not get the satchel. He found himself shoving away an Alpha-Bureaucrat. Stemp staggered back into the arms of the cop colonel. The peacers advanced on Floyt.

  "Wait! Listen!" Floyt shouted at Ash. "There's something else: Alacrity was framed! For that murder at Macchu Pichu! We have proof; I brought a copy of the message here, somewhere … "

  He riffled frantically, knowing what would happen to himself, his friends, and the evidence once the Alphas had them. The peacers were closing in as he thrust into Ash's hands the excerpt mentioning Project Shepherd's entrapment of Alacrity.

  Ash took a quick glance at the excerpt, then pulled Floyt to him and behind him. The cops wavered.

  "I will take charge now," the executioner announced. "Citizen Stemp, you are now an interested party—an implicated party, since your agency was involved in the case. You and these other bureaucrats will withdraw at once and hold yourselves ready to give testimony."

  Stemp's face colored. "The devil you say!" He motioned to the peaceguardians. "Take them all into custody! Go on, do as I order!"

  The cops were working themselves up to obey. Ash lowered his head at them like an angry bull. "I warn you one last time: this situation is concerned with an adjudicated homicide case. That takes precedence even over charges of sedition and collusion."

  Stemp had been speaking into his Alpha-model accessor. "One more chance, Ash. Then I have the installations open fire!"

  Ash looked around. The cops moved back, knowing what that would mean. Alacrity tried to decide why they hadn't just been told to shoot. Then he remembered Ash's behavior when Alacrity had first met him. He was pretty sure the executioner was concealing something a lot more dangerous than underwear beneath that sinisterly dapper attire.

  He might be safe from Terran handguns, but nothing man-portable's gonna hold up against heavy weapons. Still and all, Ash didn't look worried.

  "Stay near me," was all Ash said to the four. They lost no time closing up tightly behind him. Floyt somehow didn't find it odd to have Corva almost on top of him, hands on Floyt's shoulders. In fact, it was reassuring.

  Stemp's face was purple-red. Chin and Bear were watching in profound fury, that of people who are afraid their emotions will shift to solid fear very soon. Stemp brought his accessor up.

  He uttered a string of syllables and access code ciphers that made no sense whatsoever to Floyt, who'd been dealing with Terra's systems all his adult life. The Alpha ended with "Fire!"

  Ash's voice cracked like a nervefire lash as he yelled directly at the audio pickups on the pylons, "Cancel!" He added a string of the same arcane codewords.

  The weapons began realigning, and Alacrity understood why Ash had picked that particular spot for the showdown. Stemp looked as if he'd been given a jotting. Chin started edging back for the chuteshafts and Bear seemed about to faint.

  Stemp tried more commands, rattling them into his accessor, and, when that had no effect, screaming them at the pickups, thinking to imitate Ash's magic. All to no avail.

  "The cops. He's gonna try the cops on us next," Alacrity muttered to Floyt in a low voice. His gun hand was hidden by Ash's body. He pulled the Captain's Sidearm, still hiding it.

  The peaceguardians were irresolute. Ash was speaking cryptosounds to the empty air. The surveillance pickups were all operating, recording the scene, despite Stemp's command for
a blackout. Stemp lowered his accessor, baring his teeth at Ash. "What are you doing?"

  "The pickups are patched through to override," Ash explained evenly. "This incident is being transmitted everywhere."

  Cynthia Chin found that the chuteshaft doors wouldn't open for her and began babbling into her own accessor. It did no good.

  Stemp had already come to the same conclusion Alacrity had, and began exhorting the peacers to do their duty. They were still used to jumping when an Alpha gave the command. Floyt had a wild moment in which to picture people everywhere watching the face-off. The cops went for their weapons.

  It was a hopeless crossfire but Alacrity just felt like he'd been through too much to go down without a fight. He held his gun up, moving Ash a little with his free hand, about to take a bead on Stemp.

  Ash beat the arm down with surprising strength, showing a dark wrath. "You fool! Do you want to be the death of us all?" He plucked the pistol away easily and tossed it aside, far. The peaceguardians, momentarily daunted, brought their weapons up.

  Ash shouted a sound. The weapons installations volleyed from all sides with impressive accuracy, an abrupt, brilliant crisscross of the kind of neuroparalyzer Alacrity had been shot with at the Earthservice conditioning clinic, so long ago.

  The peacers were outlined in bright coronas, some convulsing for a moment, all toppling to he unmoving on the roof.

  It became very quiet, except for a Terran breeze. Stemp began backing away, lost in a mental disarray, with no notion of what he was doing. Bear was still frozen in place. Chin stood by the chuteshaft doors, arms folded across her chest, resigned and waiting.

  "How long have you had that one up your sleeve?" Alacrity asked in a small voice.

  The executioner didn't look aside at him. "Some things one learns from one's predecessors; some things one learns in the course of investigations, or because someone wants to buy their way out of a dilemma, make a deal. Believe it, my office has its impediments, but it also has its resources."