It was Trishinist. There was an iron collar around his neck to which a length of heavy chain was welded.
“I knew you big plug-uglies would come back,” Roan said. Sostelle was by his side, his tail wagging. “Didn’t I, Sostelle?” Roan demanded, blinking back an annoying film in his eyes.
“Yes, Roan,” the dog said. “You knew.”
“Chief, I guess maybe we better take a few minutes to straighten out these fellows coming out from the city,” Askor said. The dogs were marching across the causeway now, four abreast, advancing in defense of their masters.
“Sostelle—can’t you stop them?” Roan asked.
“No,” the dog said almost proudly. “The dogs will fight.”
Then Askor was away, bawling orders, and Roan stood with Sidis under a tree that drifted lavender petals on them as the two columns met in fire and dust.
Sunlight shifted suddenly past a shattered beam and waked Roan. “It’s quiet,” he said to Desiranne, who stood at the edge of the cavernous ruin of the old house, looking toward the city. She looked around, smiled, the sunlight misting in her hair.
Askor appeared around the edge of the wall. “Looks like it’s over, Chief.”
“That’s Sami!” Desiranne cried, pointing toward a dog that limped across the ruined square toward them. “It’s . . . it was a dog I knew.”
“My animals are overwhelmed,” Sami said. “Only twenty-three survive, and all of those are injured. We can no longer fight.” His fur was singed and there was blood clotted at the side of his head, but he stood straight.
“You put up a good scrap,” Askor said approvingly. “You knocked off a couple dozen ITN’s and even nailed one or two of my boys.”
“I request one hour’s time to permit my dogs to clean themselves and polish their brasses before we are put to death,” Saimi said. “They wish to meet their end in proper fashion, and not as Masterless curs.”
“Huh? Who said anything about killing you?” Askor said.
“But we are sworn to defend to the death . . .”
“No” Sami,” Desiranne put in softly. “I know your training, your loyalty. But the world is different now. I am different. So are you. Men and dogs must change or both be lost.”
“What would you say to joining up,” Askor said.
“Joining . . .?”
“The ITN,” Askor explained. “I need good fighters.” He looked at Roan. “Sorry, Chief. I guess this last year I kind of got a habit of talking like it was my show.”
“It is,” Roan said. “You’ve earned it.”
“If we hadn’t found Archaeopteryx and our old crew cruising around near Alpha Four looking for us, we never would of made it. But what about signing up the dogs, Chief? You like the idea okay?”
“Sure. They’re Terrans too, aren’t they?”
The dog’s eyes gleamed. He straightened his back even more. “Sirs!, My dogs and I accept your offer! We will fight well for Terra, Sirs!” Sami saluted and limped away.
Sidis came up. “Boss, uh, the boys is kind of looking around a little in the city, if that’s okay. They been a long time in space, and, uh . . .”
“No unnecessary killing or destruction,” Roan said. “I leave it to them to decide what’s necessary.”
“Them poor Terries in the dump town,” Askor said. “They look worse than the Geeks back in that place, Tambool, Chief. We give ’em some food and blasted down the gates so’s they could help themselves to some of the stuff that’s laying around in the fancy part of town. I got a idea we could sign on a few of them, too, after the fun’s over.”
“Yeah, Boss,” Sidis said eagerly. “With a couple hundred of Trishinist’s Gooks, and the dogs, and now those Terries, we got a nicesized little navy shaping up. We could maybe even man two ships. What you got in mind for our next cruise?”
Desiranne put her hand on Roan’s arm, and looked up at him anxiously. Roan covered her hand with his, covering the old finger wound. He shook his head. “I’m staying on Terra,” he said.
Askor and Sidis stared at him. “This world needs every Man it can get,” Roan said. “The old equilibrium’s been shattered. If we leave them to their own devices they’ll die. The Lowers outnumber the Uppers a hundred to one—but they don’t know how to run a world. And if the automatic machinery isn’t properly tended, they’ll all starve. They’ll starve soon, anyway, when the system breaks down completely. But I can help. I have to try.” Askor nodded. “Yeah . . . from what I saw, there ain’t much hope for these Terries on their own.”
“There still life in the old world,” Roan said. “Now that the blockade is broken, the word will spread. They’ll be coming, to get in on the spoils. But with a little time and luck, I can organize her defenses—enough to give her a chance.”
Askor frowned. “Defenses? What about Archie? There ain’t many tubs in space can take her on.”
“I can’t ask you to stay here,” Roan said. “For me, it’s different. I have a wife now. And in a few months I’ll have a son. . . .” Askor and Sidis looked at each other. “Uh . . . you know, Boss, it’s a funny thing,” Sidis said. “I feel at home here myself.” He waved a thick-fingered hand. “The air smells right, the sunlight, the trees—all that kind of stuff. I been thinking—”
“Uh, Chief,” Askor broke in. “I’ll be back.”
Roan looked after him. “I guess I’m a great disappointment to him. Married, settled down, no more raiding the space ways. . . .”
“It ain’t that, Boss.” Sidis snapped the top off a tall wine bottle and occupied himself with swallowing. A big Gook named Gungle appeared at the door, grinned across at Roan.
“Hey, Cap’n, what do you want to do with this Terry Admiral we got here? Askor said bring him along from Alpha for you to roast over a slow fire if you wanted to.” He tugged the chain in his hand and Trishinist stumbled in.
“Roan! Dear lad,” he babbled. “if you’ve a heart, surely you’ll take a moment now to instruct these animals to release me.”
Gungle jerked the chain. “Talks funny, don’t he, Cap’n?”
“Maybe we should find a nice deep hole to put him in,” Roan said thoughtfully, studying the former officer. “But somehow the idea bores me. You may as well just shoot him.”
“Roan—no! I’m far too valuable to you!”
“He’s all the time talking about something he knows, Cap’n,” Gungle explained. “Said you wouldn’t never find out if we was to blow a hole in him.”
“Yes, Roan,” Trishinist gasped. “Only set me free—with a stout vessel, of course—one of the flagship’s lifeboats will serve nicely—and an adequate supply of provisions—and perhaps just a few small ingots of Terran gold to help me make a new start—and I’ll tell you something that will astonish you!”
“Go ahead,” Roan said.
“But first, your promise.”
Gurgle gave the chain a sharp tug. “Tell it,” he growled.
Trishinist bleated. “Your word, Roan—”
“I guess I might as well go ahead and plug him, Cap’n,” Gungle said apologetically, tugging at his pistol. “I shudn’t of bothered you.” He turned on the cowering man.
“I’ll speak!” Trishinist bleated. “And throw myself on your mercy, Roan. I have faith in your sense of honor, dear lad!”
Roan yawned.
“You’re a Terran!” Trishinist screeched. “Yes, of the Pure Strain. The ancient strain! There was a ship—oh, old, old, it was, Roan! Hulled in Deep Space by a rock half as big as a lifeboat, and drifting through space and centuries—until I found it. There was the body of a Man, frozen in an instant as the rock opened her decks to space. They took from his body the frozen germ cells, and at my order—my order, Roan—our finest technicians thawed them, and induced maturation! And then—but the you you know . . .” He stared at Roan, his mouth hanging open, his eyes pleading.
“His name was Admiral Stuart Murdoch,” Roan said. “He died sixteen thousand years ago.”
&nbs
p; “Then—you knew it.” Trishinist’s face went gray.
“I didn’t know the whole story. Tell me, Trishinist, if I let you go, will you settle down here on Terra and live a useful life?”
“Live? Life? the former Admiral straightened. “Roan, I’ll be a model citizen, I swear it. Oh, I’m tired, tired! Of killing, and struggle, and hate! I want to rest now. I’ll till a plot of land—Terran soil—and marry a Terran woman, raise a family. I want . . . I want to be loved.
“Cripes,” Gungle said.
“Perhaps he does,” Desiranne said. “We’re all having a new birth now.” She leaned heavily on Roan, reminding him of the new life within her.
“Get out,” Roan said to him. “And if you betray me, I’ll find you. Wherever you are.”
“Gee, Cap’n,” Gungle said disgustedly. He dropped the chain and Trishinist caught it up, darted from the room. Roan heard a yell, then the scamper of retreating feet. Askor came in, grinning.
“I figured you’d let him go, Chief. And, uh, now I got something to show you.”
He turned, beckoned. A girl appeared in the doorway, smiling shyly. She was small, pretty, obviously Terran. She was dressed in soft-colored garment from the Gallian World, and she held a baby in her arms. Askor went to her, put a protective hand on her shoulder, led her to Roan. A fat, three month-old face looked up at Roan, suddenly smiled a half-familiar smile. “My kid,” Askor said proudly. Roan blinked.
“Me and Cyrillia,” Askor went on, grinning. “I, uh, kind of took her along when me and Sidis left here, Chief. We was in kind of a hurry, but I seen her and you know . . .”
“You took her with you?” Roan took the baby. He was solid, heavy, with the round face of a Minid and the pert nose of his mother. “Then—this means—”
“Yeah,” Askor said. “I guess that proves even a Gook’s got a little Earthblood, huh? I want to stay here, Chief. With you. “And the rest of the boys too. You need us here. Terra needs us to start her new navy. And ever since Roan was born—” Askor blushed.
“We named him for you, Sir,” Cyrillia said in a soft voice.
“Hell’s hull, Chief—all the boys are tired of this shipboard life. They all want to get a nice Terrie gal and settle down. We’ll keep Archie ship-shape.”
“There are plenty of ships,” Roan said, through a smile that felt as large and silly as Askor’s”
The first star came out. But it wasn’t somewhere to go. It was just a decoration.
Roan held Desiranne’s hand in his and saw that she was looking down the grassy-hillside to the city, where fire winked and glimmered among the dark buildings. Echoes of grating laughter, shouts, the tuneless counterpoints of drunken looters sounded.
“Tears for your city?” Roan asked his wife, feeling them fall on his hand.
“Only for the strangeness of it all, the difference,” she said softly, and then almost shouted, “No! Let them destroy it, root out all the evil. And then we start over.”
“Still . . . I could weep myself for all that history. The ancient things burning there, the treasures of Terran art, the heritage of Terra’s greatness.”
Desiranne touched his cheek. “Oh, Roan, how you must ache for it! The Terra you came so far for, that you spent your youth to find. The Terra that no longer existed.”
“No.” Roan helped Desiranne to her feet, looking out with her over the city, into the night. “I learned something. If what you want doesn’t exist, you create it. Terra’s past is lost forever. Now she has only the future. We’ll make the future. You and me—and our friends out there!” END
Collected Short Fiction (Jerry eBooks) Page 61