The Castle in Cassiopeia

by Mike Resnick

  “Do you suppose there’s any left?” asked Pretorius.

  “Not a chance,” said Apollo. “No place else to put ’em where they couldn’t be seen from overhead.”

  “Okay, what’s next?” asked Snake.

  “Next we walk through this whole compound and check into every room until we find what we’re looking for,” answered Pretorius.

  “Not more Janbottis?” she said.

  He shook his head. “You find any, kill ’em.” He paused. “But the fresh air really should have wiped out any survivors already.”

  “Uh . . . do we have any plans?” asked Irish.

  “We will soon,” said Pretorius. “Spread out and search every room, every closet, every cubbyhole, until you find something, anything, that will show us the safest way to approach the castle, and to gain entrance to it once we’ve landed.”

  “That’s gonna be a little harder than you think,” said Apollo. “Unless we can set it down next to an unlocked and unprotected door in the middle of the night.”

  “First things first,” said Pretorius. “First we have to find out what we’re up against, what the obstacles are. Then we’ll worry about how to get around them.” He paused and looked around the room at his team. “And the first step is to comb through this place and find out everything we can about the castle. And remember, there may be a few Janbottis still lurking throughout the outpost. I doubt it, but there’s no sense not being careful.”

  Apollo headed out the door and turned into the corridor. Proto was just a step behind him.

  “No,” said Pretorius firmly. “Apollo can take care of himself. Go with Pandora or Irish.”

  “That’s almost an insult,” said Irish.

  “You ever kill anyone?” asked Pretorius.

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “That puts you well behind Apollo and Snake. Just let him walk a step or two ahead of you as a target.”

  Snake walked to the door again.

  “Damn it!” growled Pretorius.

  “What now?” asked Irish.

  “Proto, if you’re going to be a decoy, stop being a lizard and become a Man. They’re not going to shoot their first volley into anything else.”

  “Sorry,” said Proto, who instantly assumed his human form and led Irish out of the room.

  “Snake, you’re next,” said Pretorius.

  “I hope there’s one left,” said Snake as she walked out the door.

  “Me now?” said Pandora.

  Pretorius shook his head. “You stay here.”

  “But—”

  “I’m not playing favorites, and I’m not saying I don’t think you’re up to the task,” he said. “But if Apollo gets himself shot, you’re the only one with enough expertise to pilot a ship with Kabori controls or counter any spy systems we find once we reach the castle.”

  “So you and I stay here until someone returns or contacts us?”

  Pretorius grimaced. “You’re half right. You stay here. I go hunting for . . . hell, for whatever.”

  He turned and hurried out into the corridor. He assumed that Apollo and Snake would be checking the place out room by room in an orderly manner, so rather than inspect the same rooms that they had already cleared, he walked as far as he could, came to a left turn just before reaching what he thought of as the back wall, passed a pair of open rooms, and then came to a closed door.

  Pretorius reached out to open it, only to find that it was locked. He didn’t want to mess with molten metal, so instead of his burner he pulled out his screecher, turned it to full power, and shattered the lock and indeed the entire handle with a blast of solid sound.

  As he was entering the room, a Janbotti wearing a breathing mask launched itself at him, knocking him back into the corridor. He was about to swing at the Janbotti’s head, remembered that he still had his screecher in his hand, and fired it full into the Janbotti’s face.

  He’d never shot a living being with a screecher at close range. It wasn’t a pretty sight. Both eyeballs cracked and fell to pieces, its teeth all shattered, and it tried to scream but the bones in its jaw had shattered and it could barely open its mouth.

  Pretorius stood back, let the Janbotti fall to the floor, then quickly checked to make sure it was dead. He noticed a truly complex computer atop a table in a corner, then went out into the hall and, putting a couple of fingers into his mouth, emitted a loud, shrill whistle.

  All five of his teammates showed up within a minute.

  “Wow!” said Apollo, looking at the Kabori’s corpse. “What the hell did you do to him?”

  “Screecher at about five inches,” answered Pretorius.

  “Kind of makes you wonder why the burner is everyone’s weapon of choice,” said Apollo.

  “I think,” said Pandora, standing in the doorway and staring at the computer, “that you’ve uncovered the mother lode.”

  “Makes sense,” agreed Irish. “He seems to be the only one left. My guess is that he was probably under orders to destroy the machine before he left.”

  “Well, you’ve got a machine,” said Pretorius to Pandora, “and you’ve even got a teammate who speaks and reads Kabori.”

  “A little,” qualified Apollo.

  “More than the rest of us, which is what counts,” replied Pretorius.

  He turned to Apollo. “Any chance we can move this computer to the ship without damaging it?”

  “I doubt it,” replied Apollo.

  “Then we’ll leave the two of you to have the computer dope out the next leg of our mission while we keep searching the building.”

  He walked out the door and turned to his right, followed by Irish, Snake, and Proto, and a moment later they were back in the original room.

  “You think they’ll find anything?” asked Irish.

  “They certainly figure to,” answered Pretorius. “That’s a hell of a complex, sophisticated computer, and the Janbottis thought enough of it to leave one of their own behind to guard it, and probably destroy it.”

  “You know,” said Snake, “somehow these missions are never as smooth or easy as they sound.”

  Pretorius smiled. “You’ve noticed that, have you?”

  “We never stick to the plan,” continued Snake.

  “The plan is to kill or kidnap Michkag. Everything else is the details, and they’re what change as situations change. The plan’s the same as the day we started.”

  “You gonna be a college professor when you quit the service?” she asked with a smile.

  “I certainly hope not,” said Pretorius. He looked around. “Well, we might as well keep looking while they work on the machine. Split up into pairs, and meet back here in half an hour.”

  When they returned to the room that housed the computer, Pandora and Apollo were waiting for them.

  “Well?” asked Pretorius.

  “I think we’ve found a way,” said Apollo.

  “It all depends on no one shooting us down as we approach the castle,” added Pandora.

  “And they shouldn’t,” said Apollo. “After all, we’re flying a Kabori ship.”

  “And now we’ve got access to their codes, and I’ve already transferred them to the ship,” said Pandora.

  “Well, that all sounds encouraging,” said Pretorius.

  “I’m glad you agree,” said Apollo. “I’m good with the language—well, passable anyway. But this lady broke the locks and safeguards on the code a hell of a lot faster than I could have.”

  “Okay,” said Pretorius, “we’ve accomplished what we can. It’s time to get the hell out of here. No sense sticking around to greet a punishment party.” He turned to Apollo. “I hope it’s as safe and easy to get into the castle as you make it sound.”

  “Oh, it’s easier than I thought it would be,” answered Apollo. “Right now, with what we learned, and approaching in a Kabori ship, I figure the odds are no more than fifteen-to-one against us.”

  15

  “So what do we know now tha
t we didn’t know a few hours ago?” asked Pretorius, as the ship sped through the Garsype atmosphere toward the castle.

  “I’ve found and adjusted the cloaking device,” answered Apollo. “We’re okay until they can see us with their eyes, as opposed to their instruments.”

  “And we know the codes we need to approach the castle and land without getting blown out of the sky,” answered Pandora.

  “And we’ve got a rough map of the castle,” added Apollo.

  “How rough?”

  “It’s not divided into rooms, but into sections,” said Apollo.

  “Explain,” said Pretorius.

  “We know, for example, the broad area where the military’s quarters are, but not how many separate rooms they have, how many showers—always assuming they wash—and where they eat. We know where the ships land. We know the major areas set aside for commerce.”

  “Commerce?” said Irish.

  Apollo smiled. “There’s more than a billion soldiers on the planet. Every now and then I’m sure they have an urge to buy things—a shirt, a video, a better meal, whatever.”

  Snake shook her head. “It’s just hard to picture a billion armed soldiers in that castle.”

  “Oh, I don’t think it holds much more than half a million,” said Apollo. “And even that seems crowded. As we approach it, we’ll be flying over a military encampment that’ll cover more ground than the biggest city on Deluros VIII.”

  “As well as the biggest spaceport you’ve ever seen, or imagined,” added Pandora.

  “I don’t remember any humongous spaceport in Orion,” said Snake, frowning.

  “That’s because they lived in Orion,” answered Pandora. “They’re all transients here, and once Michkag has firmly established his rule I would imagine most of them will either be going back to Orion or to the next huge piece of the galaxy he wants to take over.”

  Snake turned to Pretorius. “You really think we can pull this off with a billion armed soldiers down there ready to kill anyone who tries?”

  “He had close to a billion in Orion and we pulled off the switch,” answered Pretorius. “It’s just a matter of doing our homework.”

  “And being a little bit lucky,” added Pandora.

  “Oh, we’re gonna need more than a little bit of luck to pull this off,” said Apollo. Suddenly he grinned. “As soon as I dope out the odds we’ll discuss my fee.”

  “Take it off Michkag’s smoldering body,” said Snake. “He’s richer than we are.”

  “Even assuming he can pull this off, and take another section of the galaxy when he’s done here, what does he expect from it?” asked Irish, frowning. “I mean, he had no childhood, no young adulthood. Physically he was probably past the halfway point when he took his first breath. Doesn’t he ever want to sit back and just enjoy everything he’s got?”

  “It’s the getting that’s the enjoyable part for beings like Michkag,” said Pretorius. “Take Earth’s various emperors and dictators. They could tell you exactly what they thought they wanted—China, living space, access to the ocean, whatever—but what they really wanted, even if they didn’t quite know it, was for history to acknowledge that they pulled off an accomplishment or set of accomplishments that were clearly beyond anyone else. That’s why, with a few exceptions such as Rome, hardly any empires survive their founders and thrive under their successors.”

  “The next step is to say, ‘Well, hell, Michkag’s empire isn’t going to outlast him by much, and it’ll probably never be half as powerful, so why bother at all?’” said Apollo.

  “I’d like to say the Democracy is concerned with the fate of all the enslaved billions,” replied Pretorius. “But I think the truth of the matter is that if he didn’t present a direct threat to us, we’d let nature and history take their joint courses, rather than lose quite a few million lives and quite a bit of treasure fighting him.”

  “You know,” said Irish, “that’s so outrageous that I’m sure it’s the absolute truth.”

  “What does our own alien say?” asked Apollo.

  “I am totally apolitical,” answered Proto. “I am also without religion and deeply held convictions.”

  “Oh, come on,” said Apollo.

  “It’s true,” answered Proto. “In a galaxy filled with beings like yourself and Pretorius and Michkag, the average member of my race stands about fifty centimeters high and weighs no more than twenty pounds. When you have armies of billions and my entire race numbers in the thousands—not even the tens of thousands—we are a little more concerned with survival than with conquest or posterity.”

  “Makes sense when you put it that way,” said Snake.

  “Thank you.”

  “Then why are you here at all?” asked Apollo.

  Proto’s human image nodded his head in Pretorius’s direction. “He owns me.”

  “He what?” demanded Apollo.

  “I was serving time in jail,” said Proto. “Colonel Pretorius paid my bail provided that I would join his team.”

  “But I gather you were part of the mission that put the clone in Michkag’s place, and you helped rescue Edgar what’s-his-name . . . ?”

  “Nmumba,” Proto prompted him.

  “Yeah, Nmumba, from some prison planet in the Antares Sector. Just how many millions of credits was your bail if you’re still working for him after all that?”

  “It wasn’t very large at all,” said Proto.

  “Then why—?”

  “He and the others treat me with respect,” replied Proto. “Do you know how rare that is for a member of my race? Whenever something, anything, goes wrong, we are the easiest to blame because even if they saw the villain doing his or her foul deeds, they can never be sure it wasn’t one of us.”

  “That’s ridiculous!” said Apollo. He pulled his burner out of its holster and held it in front of him. “Here! Take this!”

  “You know I can’t.”

  “Then why doesn’t everyone else know it?”

  “Because only a tiny handful see us in our true form, and of that tiny handful, only a miniscule percentage realize that we are casting an image and not actually morphing into the being that they see.”

  “And of course there’s the obvious added advantage,” said Apollo.

  “Oh?” said Proto with a puzzled expression.

  Apollo smiled. “If someone shoots the whole Dead Enders crew, you’re going to survive just fine unless they aim at your feet.”

  “You think it’s lucky to be eighteen inches high with no physical defenses, you should try it some time,” Proto shot back.

  “Should I start showing you holos of what we’re facing on the way there and once we’re inside?” asked Pandora. “Or would you rather keep picking on Proto?”

  “Much as I’m sure we all enjoy picking on Proto,” said Apollo, “I suppose we should get back to business.”

  “We’ve accessed the codes we need to prove that this isn’t just a ship in Michkag’s navy, but that we’re Kaboris and have every right to be flying it in Garsype’s atmosphere,” said Pandora. Suddenly the castle appeared. “Now as you can see, the damned thing’s locked up tighter than a drum. No discernable windows, not even the size of portholes.”

  “They’ve got to have some,” said Pretorius. “They’re just well-camouflaged.”

  “Probably,” she agreed. “But whoever took the holos didn’t make any effort to spot them.” Suddenly a view of the roof came up. “Given how big the damned building is, I’d have thought we’d land on the roof, but as you can see, there are no ships there, and in fact it’s not as flat as it seems from afar. All sides gently slope down about ten or twelve degrees to the very center.”

  “So where do we land?” asked Pretorius.

  She turned to Apollo. “Can you give it commands in Kabori? That’ll certainly be easier than my translating Terran into Kabori on the keyboard.”

  “Certainly,” he said, uttering a low command.

  Suddenly they were lo
oking at a section of totally flat ground with absolutely nothing growing on it, perhaps fifty meters on a side, about one hundred meters from the castle.

  “It’s just a flat field,” said Snake, staring at the holos. “But if it’s a landing field, where the hell are all the ships, plus all the ones that are stationed there?”

  “Watch,” said Apollo, uttering another command in Kabori.

  “Son of a bitch!” exclaimed Snake as the field opened at the center, and then all the sides slid quickly and noiselessly into the surrounding ground at a depth of perhaps ten meters.

  “Be hard to miss that,” commented Irish.

  Suddenly Apollo uttered another command and the holographic screen froze.

  “Look over to your left, which is due south as far as I can tell,” he said. “That dirt-covered structure is an artificial wall, unlike all the rest of the ground surrounding what I think we’ll call the landing field.”

  “So once we land,” began Pretorius, “hell, once anybody lands, some ground crew, or underground crew to be more accurate, tows the ship through the false wall to an enormous hangar where they’ve stored most of their ships.”

  “Also,” added Apollo, “my guess is that if they know you’re coming, you won’t land on the soil floor. They’ll have something low and flat on wheels, you’ll set the ship down on that, and it’ll tow you to wherever they want to store you. That way you don’t take any chance of ripping your ship’s belly or sides open when they tow you off the landing spot.” He turned to Pandora. “Okay, all yours again.”

  “Well, it’s obvious that once we land, Proto’s got to impersonate the Kabori pilot,” said Pretorius. “I wonder if he can get away with claiming he’s Michkag, back from a secret mission, and that we five are his prisoners.”

  “Or perhaps his turncoats and coconspirators,” suggested Irish.

  “I suppose it depends on how fast they can contact Michkag or one of his closest advisors,” said Apollo. “With a hundred thousand or so stationed in the castle, it could take a couple of hours.”

  “Will they hold us that long?” asked Snake.

  “Not if Michkag has a temper tantrum over being delayed,” said Apollo.