by Allan Cole
The maneuver was repeated several more times. Now Rual and Zheng were hanging behind him watching the whole thing in a daze.
Then there was a change. The Jo’l Cash was on the move again, but this time when it stopped a silver cloud floated from ports in the nose. The image of the cloud glittered across the Holoimager, flowing out toward the Flame.
“Vhat’s dat?” Zheng muttered. “Particles, they look like.”
And then the cloud enveloped their ship, passing over and around it. The only apparent effect was the sound of scratching, like sand blowing across a faceplate. And then it was gone.
“They’re clottin’ painting us,” Rual said, her voice quivering. “We’ll have a missile up our butts next.”
Shaklin double checked his instruments. No sign of any danger that he could see. And if they fired, he could still beat them to the punch.
Even so, he was getting nervous. It was difficult to keep his cool with Rual on an emotional razor’s edge.
His hand moved to hover over the Jump panel. Rual and Zheng were talking, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying.
The pressure was getting to him. He felt otherworldly, with Zheng and Rual moving their lips, but he couldn’t make out a word.
Maybe they were right. Maybe he should end this game and jump.
Yes, jump, he thought. Enough of this nonsense. Better jump.
But before he could act, a voice boomed through their com units.
“This is Captain Sten, aboard the Jo’l Cash.”
Shaklin paused. Tilted his head to listen. But the voices of Zheng and Rual were clearer now.
Jump! they were saying. Jump!
And so his hand came down toward the panel.
But then Sten’s voice said: “We heard you got yourselves in a jam, mates, and we’ve come a long way to get you out of it.”
Shaklin didn’t jump.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
FIRST CONTACT
Sten sat hunched over the comboard, knowing that the first words that came out of his mouth would set the tone for what happened next.
Success. Or abject failure.
On the monitor screen, he could see the enhanced image of the Flame and the immense space-train in its charge.
The space-train was drawn up in a circle, reminding Sten of pictures he’d seen in old fiches of human pioneers on ancient Earth daring the wilderness in animal-powered wagons.
The Flame hovered over its charges, like a fierce mother Gurion guarding her charges. Instead of the starfish-like arms of the Gurion, many-colored connector beams emanated from the sleek ship, linking all the cargo barges and their tugs. In addition, scores of small tender-bots patrolled the train, on the constant lookout for mechanical breakdowns, or damage from meteor hits. Repair and maintenance units scurried over the cargo containers, like swarms of ants tending their nests.
From this perspective, the Flame looked like a living being, so large and so complex that it formed its own environment—like the great clonal colonies that forested the planet Aspen in the distant Pando Sector.
The Flame and its treasure of raw Imperium X was Sten’s goal. His target. His mission. But to think of it that way for too long would be a mistake. True, it was an engineering miracle. He could devote a lifetime studying the history of how such marvels came into being.
Why, the very ship he was on—the Jo’l Cash—was the identical twin sister of the Flame. Proof of just how successful the engineer creators had been.
But although the Flame looked, and sometimes even behaved like a living being, in the end, it was only a thing. To capture the thing—the inanimate object—he had to first capture the minds of the nearly two hundred crew members who formed the true core of the Flame
He put aside the ship. Flipped a switch so the image of the Flame was replaced by a roster of the crewmembers.
Sten scrolled through the enlistment pictures, pausing here and there to study a face. Wondering how that face—looking so proud and hopeful upon enlistment—became a traitor. A mutineer.
He came to the conclusion that in reality, they really weren’t that much different than the sailors who made up the crew of the Jo’l Cash.
Never mind the ring leaders. To hell with Shaklin and his bizarre beliefs; or Rual, the enforcer; or Zheng, the toad who thought he was The Big Boss. No, get the Unholy Three out of your mind. Aim your words at the crew, a hard-working grease-stained bunch who’d just as soon be bending their elbows and resting their butts on a stool at the nearest Local.
They’d be scared. Confused. Probably wondering how they got themselves into this mess.
And so he drew in a deep breath, keyed the mike, and said:
“This is Captain Sten, aboard the Jo’l Cash.
“We heard you were in trouble, mates, and we’ve come a long way to help you out.”
He gave it a few heartbeats to let the words sink in, then he said: “Right about now, you’re all probably worried about your future. I know I would be. And I’d also be wondering what my family and friends were thinking back on my homeworld. Would they think I was a traitor? Are my folks hanging their heads in shame when neighbors pass? And my school chums. I’d be worried about what they were thinking. And what about the guys down at my Local? Are they wondering what the clot happened. What went wrong?”
ABOARD THE FLAME
Sten’s words echoed through the ship. Shaklin glanced around. Everyone was transfixed. Frozen in place. Even Rual was entirely still. Only Zheng’s long, pink tongue nervously flicked out to lick his thick lips.
Captain Sten continued: “I don’t know about you guys, but there was this scrote in my group who acted like he was everybody’s best friend, but soon as your back was turned, he’d be sniping at you. Putting the blame on you when it was something he’d done. You know the type. And he was always after my girl, you know? Telling stories. Lies about how he saw me with some slut, or other.”
Shaklin saw the looks on faces of the sailors. Nodding. Yeah, they all knew a guy like that. Frowning. Yeah, and that guy would be sneaking around their sweetheart right about now. Whispering lies in her ear. Except—well, now it looked like those lies weren’t so untruthful after all.
Sten said: “I remember how proud everybody was when I signed on. I worked so clottin’ hard studying to pass the merchantman’s test. And then I went through all that training. Boot camp and specialist schools. Man, it was tough. Really tough. And boy was I proud when I went home on leave and hugged my mom and shook my dad’s hand. He had a tear in his eye, he was so proud. Said it was his allergies acting up again.”
Shaklin heard laughter and knew some sailors were remembering their own homecoming, their own fathers wiping away a tear.
And Sten said: “I don’t know about you, but I was the first person in my family to make it that far. To go beyond just basic school and get an actual decent-paying job with health and pension benefits. I remember how proud I was at the Local buying a round for my mates. Laughing at that back-stabbing clot who was so jealous he could spit.
“And that night. After hours. What a cuddle I got from my girl. Her eyes shining. Whispering my name. Promising she’d always be there. Waiting for me…”
Shaklin heard Sten pause. Letting the silence work for him. Shaklin knew he was being manipulated. But everything rang so true, he didn’t care.
And then Sten continued: “Sure, everything was wonderful back then. I figured I had life licked. Nothing but shining times ahead. Adventures in far off lands.
“And I made so many promises to myself. I’d work hard, by God, and not slough off. I’d climb that promotion ladder. Stash credits in the bank. Someday I’d go home and marry my girl. I’d still be young, and I’d have a pension plus maybe another job because I was a skilled spacer, and me and my family would be living good life, man…the good life.”
Shaklin could see people nodding, eyes turned inward, remembering how it was.
And Sten said: “But then something happened. And everything changed. It was horrible. Horrible. Like the Devil Himself was whispering in my ear.
“And I went for it. Don’t ask me how. Don’t ask me why. I just did it, man. And now I’m fucked. Good and fucked. And I don’t know how to get the hell out of this clottin’ mess. If I could only turn back the clock.”
Shaklin heard Rual curse and saw her start toward the com board, intent on chopping off the deadly words that were undermining everything.
“Here, there!” someone shouted and Rual stopped. Looked around. People were glaring at her. She looked at Zheng, who just shook his head. Better not.
Rual shrugged—as if on second thought she didn’t care—and backed away. But Shaklin could tell she was burning inside.
Then he realized that the Sten had stopped speaking.
Shaklin knew damned well that Sten was artfully letting the long silence build suspense.
Even so, he ached for him to continue. To show them all the way out of their dilemma.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
TURNING THE SCREW
Aboard the Jo’l Cash, Sten looked over at Doc, who had been timing the speech, jotting notes on a knee pad.
A raised eyebrow asked: How’re we doing?
Doc waggled a furry paw. So, so.
Sten grimaced. Wringing an opinion from Doc was next to impossible. He waited while Doc did some kind of internal count.
Finally, he signaled: Go!
Sten drew in a breath to steady himself. Time to seal the deal with the mutineers. Or, fall flat on his face.
He keyed the mike and said: “Well, mates, that’s why we’re here. The Eternal Emperor himself heard about your trouble and sent us to sort things out. You are probably thinking the Emp’s just another Big Boss who doesn’t give a drakh about poor swabbies like us. Well, that’s not the truth, mates. Not the truth at all.
“The Emp personally got on the horn to me and said, ‘Captain Sten, I hear some of my sailors on the Flame have got themselves in a spot of bother. I’ve seen their records and they look like a pretty good bunch who just got led astray…’”
ABOARD THE FLAME
Shaklin was amazed at the impact Sten’s words were having on the crew. Even his own congregants were hanging on every syllable.
He doubted that the Eternal Emperor actually spoke personally to this man. But part of him wanted to believe. Ached to believe.
And Sten said: “The Emp told me—‘Here, Captain, I want you to take this ship and get yourself to Possnet Sector. Speak to my people in person. Find out what is truly in their hearts. And tell them, by God, I’ll do everything in my power to set things right.’”
There was another long, suspense-building pause, and then Sten said: “And so I’m here to do just that. In exactly one E-hour I’m going to come on board and talk to you in person. Also, we have mail for you—from your families. And if you have mail to send out, we’ll be happy to take care of that for you.”
Suddenly Zheng’s emotional dam burst. He grabbed a mike and shouted into it: “Stop! Lies you are telling! Imperial lies! You are not welcome here. I swear, you move one meter, even, and we will jump!”
ABOARD THE JO’L CASH
Sten glanced over at Doc, who said, “It’s Zheng, the ringleader.”
Sten nodded. Keyed the mike. “I hear you, Zheng. No need to get your jock in a twist.”
Zheng shouted back: “Respect, I insist on! If speak, you must, speak with respect.”
Sten chuckled. “Sure, sure, Zheng. I respectfully hear you. And I’m respectfully asking you not to get your jock in a twist. The Jo’l Cash will stay at distance, so there’s no need to be nervous. I’ll use the ship’s lighter. It’s not armed, so there’s no danger to you.”
Zheng was so distraught he practically screamed: “Come alone, you must! Alone!”
Sten said, “Sure, I’ll come alone. Alone plus my ace boon coon, Alex Kilgour.”
“Not acceptable,” Zheng insisted. “One only. Only one must come.”
“Not happening,” Sten said. “Either both of us come, or I’ll turn around and go back to the Emperor and tell him a scrote named Zheng put a kibosh on the whole thing. Meanwhile, you can explain to your mates how come they’re all be facing a firing squad because you insisted on playing the ‘my way or the slideway’ game.”
ABOARD THE FLAME
Shaklin watched Zheng visibly crumble. At first he was flush with angry self-importance, but when Zheng looked around and saw the other crew members glaring at him and muttering to each other, he his sloped shoulders sagged even more, his pigeon chest seemed to collapse, and his bow legs became even more pronounced.
Just then a red pinlight began flashing on the com board. Shaklin went to answer, but then saw the call was coming in on the freq that Zheng had declared was for his own private use.
Rual spotted it and nudged her boss. Whispered in his ear. Zheng’s eyes widened, then keyed into the line.
He turned away so no one could see or hear what he was saying. A minute later he cut the connection and turned back, a huge smile on his toadish face.
He keyed the mike. “Very well, Captain Sten,” He said. “You come. Friend come also. Talk you. Listen we.”
“Very well,” Sten replied. “We’ll be with you in exactly one E-hour.”
Zheng cut the connection, a look of supreme confidence on his face.
Shaklin didn’t have to ask who had called.
It could only have been Queen Venatora.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
BOARDING THE FLAME
A young crewman met them in the locker and escorted Sten and Alex to the bridge. From his looks and the demeanor of the others, discipline was at rock bottom.
Their uniforms were shabby and unwashed, and they all smelled like they hadn’t seen the inside of a fresher for weeks.
When Sten and Alex strode into the room, Zheng came forward to greet them—a glowering Rual at his side. In the background, Sten spotted Shaklin and his congregants gathered around the Holoimager with its dazzling display of the Possnet Sector.
Sten immediately spotted areas where his navigators aboard the Flame had surmised that Venatora and her pirate forces were arrayed. In one corner he saw a blinking yellow light he knew was the Jo’l Cash.
He’d never seen such detail in a holoimager and had to drag his attention away to deal with the mutineers. Besides, Ida would be monitoring and recording everything on the bridge.
Zheng came stumping up to them on his bow legs, saying, “Captain Sten. Too late almost you were. Handsome new offer we have from Queen Venatora.”
Rual made a nasty noise Sten could only assume was laughter.
“Handsome is right,” she said. “Enough to make us all clottin’ millionaires. We were about to vote on it when you showed up.”
Next to him, Alex seemingly caught his toe on the edge of a gravchair and stumbled. He recovered, muttering a curse at his own clumsiness.
Sten had to suppress a smile. Kilgour had just planted the first of many bugs he planned to scatter about the ship during their visit. They were the latest from the Mantis Section’s snooping arsenal and were virtually undetectable.
Rual smirked. “A little nervous?” she said.
Kilgour just shrugged, using the gesture to scatter a few more bugs.
Turning to Zheng, Rual added, “Probably had a couple of pops to work up his courage.”
This drew a laugh from Zheng. But before he could make a mocking observation of his own, Sten stepped past them, as if they weren’t there.
“What about it, shipmates?” he said to the assembled crew. “Were you really going to vote before you heard what your Commander in Chief had t
o say about the deplorable conditions aboard this ship?”
He reached into his breast pocket and slowly, very deliberately, drew out an official looking document and held it up before the crew.
“What I have here,” he said, “is the official announcement of—”
Rual tried to snatch the document away, but Kilgour easily blocked her.
“Here, now,” he said. “Captain Sten has the floor. “Every swingin’ scrote of ye will gie yer turn when the time’s proper.”
Rual fumbled for her knife, but Kilgour clamped his big hand around her wrist and gave it a squeeze. Rual gasped and the knife clattered to the floor.
Zheng was so furious he was practically spitting his words. “Gutt damn! How dare you!” He slapped his chest. “Here…on the Flame…I command.”
He waved a hand, taking in the entire bridge. “I command all. One word…” He held up a single finger, which shook with rage. “One word. One word only. And we space you.”
Sten chuckled. “Lieutenant Kilgour,” he said. “The man’s an even bigger fool than Personnel made him out to be.”
Alex shook his head, looking mournful. “Sich a pity,” he said. “It’s his poor mither, I feel sorry for.”
As he spoke, he slipped another bug into a likely spot.
Sten turned back to Zheng. “Did you really think we came aboard without any support or backup?”
Zheng frowned. “Vhatt do you mean? Vhatt support. Vhatt backup? I see nothing.”
Sten chuckled.“You know that lighter that’s tied up to your ship? That nice little rig nobody bothered to check out before we came aboard?”
Zheng shot Rual a questioning look. She grimaced. “Gutt damn!” Zheng muttered. “Gutt damn!”
Sten laughed. “You guessed it,” he said. “One wrong move, and…” He threw his hands apart in a mock explosion.”
“Big clottin’ deal,” Rual said. “You’ll die, too.” She turned to the crew. “He’s bluffing,” she said. “That’s all it is. A big clottin’ bluff.”