Starship

by Michael D. Resnick

  “Wilson, one more thing,” said the Molarian.

  “What?”

  “Don't rush blindly in.”

  Cole approached the yacht's control room cautiously, burner in hand, but it wasn't necessary. Two of the pirate ship's crew lay dead on the floor. So did one of the Theodore Roosevelt's three Bedalians. Luthor Chadwick was propped up against a bulkhead, blood running out of his ears, his eyes barely able to focus.

  “I've got to go to the shuttle bay,” said Cole. “We'll get help for you as soon as we can.”

  “I can't hear you, sir,” rasped Chadwick.

  “I said I've got to go to the shuttle bay!” said Cole, raising his voice.

  Luthor pointed to his ears. “I took a heavy blast from a screecher, sir,” he said. “I can see your lips move, but I can't hear anything. I think the rest of our team is down in the shuttle bay.”

  Cole nodded, and headed off toward the bay. There were no sounds of combat as he neared it, but as he approached Forrice he saw a sudden flash of motion and dropped to the ground as an energy pulse burned itself into a bulkhead where his head had been.

  “What the hell's going on?” he asked, crawling toward Forrice over the fallen bodies of two of his crewmen.

  “You're not going to believe it, sir,” said Pampas, who was crouched behind a disabled shuttlecraft.

  “Let's have it,” said Cole. “These guys have no means of escape, they're outnumbered, we've killed most of their crew including their captain, and we've offered them positions on the Teddy R or safe passage to a colony planet. Why are they still fighting?”

  “The man the late Captain Windsail left in charge of the ship told them we were slave traders,” said Forrice. “It was actually pretty effective propaganda to stiffen their resolve. They think if we capture them we're going to sell them.”

  “Bullshit!” said Cole.

  “Pampas told you you wouldn't believe it,” said Forrice with the Molarian equivalent of a smile.

  “Is there any slavery on the Inner Frontier?” asked Cole. “Why would they believe him? I thought the last of it had been wiped out centuries ago.”

  “Probably there is, sir,” said Pampas. “There is no actual law to speak of on the Frontier, just some planetary governments and some bounty hunters. I'd be surprised if at least half a dozen worlds aren't trafficking in slaves.”

  “And the Teddy R is big enough to carry a cargo of slaves,” noted Forrice.

  “This is ridiculous,” said Cole. “It's time to end it.”

  “They're pretty well protected, sir,” said Pampas.

  “I didn't say I was going to shoot them,” answered Cole. “I said I was going to end it.” He paused for a moment, lost in thought, then looked at the Molarian. “Four Eyes, what was your mother's name?”

  Forrice looked at Cole as if he had gone mad.

  “Come on,” said Cole. “I haven't got all day.”

  “Well, roughly translated, it would be—”

  “No translation. Tell me the Molarian name.”

  “Chorinszloblen.”

  “Fine.” He raised his voice. “Crewmen of the Achilles, this is Wilson Cole, Captain of the Theodore Roosevelt. Can you hear me?”

  “I'm not coming out!” yelled a voice.

  “I'm”? thought Cole. So there's only one of you left. Aloud he said, “I want you to listen carefully, because I'm only going to say this once. We are not a slave ship. We do not traffic in sentient beings. My original offer still stands. If you surrender, you can join my crew as an equal member and today's action will not be held against you, or I can set you down on a colony planet. In either case, you will not be harmed. But I'm all through waiting, and I won't spend any more lives. I have with me a cannister of chorinszloblen, a powerful nerve gas. My crew members all have protection against it. It won't kill you, but it will incapacitate you, and it will almost certainly burn out most of your neural circuits. You can surrender now or you can become a vegetable; it's your choice. You've fought a brave fight, but it's over. You're all out of time.”

  Cole stopped speaking. After thirty seconds a pulse gun and a burner were tossed out into the open. Then, very slowly, a young man arose, hands behind his head, and walked across the bay.

  “I'm your prisoner,” he said.

  “He's just a kid!” said Pampas, staring at him.

  “Even kids can kill,” said Cole. “Four Eyes, make sure he's unarmed. Bull, keep an eye on him.”

  Forrice quickly examined the prisoner. “He's clean,” announced the Molarian.

  “Okay. Bull, check out his companions.”

  “They're all dead,” said the young man bitterly.

  “That makes you the sole surviving member of the Achilles,” said Cole. He turned to Pampas. “Bull, Luthor Chadwick is in a bad way up in the control room. I want you and Jack-in-the-Box to bring him back to the Teddy R and see if anyone can stop the bleeding. And dope him up until we can get him to a doctor.”

  “Colonel Blacksmith has confiscated all the drugs, sir,” said Pampas.

  “She'll release some for this. Just let her take a look at him.”

  “Right, sir,” said Pampas as he and Jaxtaboxl went off to the control room.

  Cole turned his attention back to the prisoner. “What's your name, son?”

  “I don't have to tell you,” said the young man defiantly.

  “No, you don't,” agreed Cole. “But it means until we set you off on a planet you're going to have to answer to ‘Son' or ‘Hey you.'”

  “You're really going to set me free?” said the prisoner.

  “I told you we would.”

  “But Captain Windsail said—”

  “Captain Windsail lied,” interrupted Cole.

  The young man stared at him. “Maybe he did, maybe he didn't, but you killed every other crew member from my ship.”

  “Your ship tried to plunder my ship,” noted Cole. “Let's not forget that little fact. Now suppose you save us some time and tell me where your cargo is. The sooner we appropriate it, the sooner we can set you loose.”

  “That wasn't part of the deal,” said the young man.

  “The battle's over,” said Cole. “Why do you insist on being difficult?”

  “If you use that chemical, that chori—…chori-whatever-it-is, on me, you'll burn out my memory,” said the young man pugnaciously, trying to hide his nervousness. “Then you'll never find it.”

  “I would never dream of using chorinszloblen on you,” answered Cole. “I don't think my First Officer would approve.” Forrice uttered a pair of hoots that passed for Molarian laughter. “We'll find your treasure with or without your help. I know it and you know it, so why not just tell me what and where it is?”

  “How do I know you won't kill me after you get your hands on it?”

  “This is a goddamned yacht, not a dreadnaught,” said Cole irritably. “How the hell many places can it be? If I was going to kill you, I'd do it right now, for putting us through the trouble of finding it.”

  “All right,” said the young man. “We're carrying about four hundred uncut diamonds from Blantyre IV, and there's some jewelry that Captain Windsail stole the last time he was on Binder X.”

  “Where is it?”

  “Captain Windsail never told us, but I'm pretty sure it's in the galley.”

  “Why?”

  “He'd never keep it in his cabin. That's the first place anyone would look.”

  “Why the galley?” persisted Cole.

  “That's the one place none of us have searched,” was the answer. “We were all afraid of cutting off a hand reaching back behind all those food synthesizing machines.”

  “All right, we'll search the galley first. If you're right, you can have a handful of diamonds as a grubstake when we set you down.”

  The young man stared at him curiously. “You'd really do that?”

  “I just said so,” replied Cole.

  “Esteban Morales.”

  “I beg y
our pardon?”

  “That's my name—Esteban Morales.” He paused. “Is your offer still open?”

  “Which one?”

  “To join your crew,” said Morales. “I could prove very useful to you.”

  “I'm listening.”

  “I know all the places the Achilles went—all the worlds that gave us safe haven, all the people Captain Windsail dealt with.”

  “You're hired, Mr. Morales,” said Cole. He reached for the communicator that was bonded to his shoulder and touched it. “Christine, the shooting's all done. Have Briggs round up a party of six or seven and come on over.”

  “Will he be removing the bodies, sir?” asked Christine Mboya.

  “He'll remove our crew's bodies,” replied Cole. “Send over some airsleds and body bags. I'll read over them when they get back to the ship. And tell Briggs to start hunting for treasure in the galley. He's looking for uncut diamonds, maybe four hundred of them, and some jewelry, no description.”

  “Four hundred diamonds?” she said. “That's not a bad day's work.”

  “Also, we have a new crew member, human male, name Esteban Morales. Assign him a room and have Sharon make sure the computer registers his voiceprint, thumbprint, and retinagram when he gets there so he can lock and unlock the damned thing.”

  “Got it.”

  “Then hunt up the nearest world with a medical facility, put Sokolov in charge of a shuttle, and have him transport Chadwick there.”

  “Should he wait?” asked Christine.

  “We'll all be back in the Teddy R long before he gets there, so have him contact me once he hears what they have to say.”

  “Yes, sir. Will there be anything else?”

  “Not that I can think of. Just get Briggs and his party here in a hurry. The Achilles probably wasn't the only pirate ship to hear that SOS, and we're a sitting duck while we're bonded to it.”

  He broke the communication and turned to Morales. “Let's check out your companions.”

  “They're all dead.”

  “Probably, but it never hurts to make sure. If any of them are even mildly alive, we'll stick them on that shuttle that's taking my man to a hospital.”

  “You're a strange kind of pirate, sir.”

  “I'll take that as a compliment,” said Cole, walking over and examining the bodies lying on the floor of the shuttle bay. All three were dead. Then, accompanied by Morales, he returned to the control room. The two crewmen were dead; so was Ensign Anders from his own ship.

  Malcolm Briggs showed up a moment later, leading five members of the Teddy R.

  “Mr. Briggs, this is Mr. Morales, our newest crew member. Mr. Morales, show them where the galley is,” said Cole. “Mr. Braxite, start putting our fallen comrades in body bags.” Morales led them to the Achilles' galley, then returned alone to the control room.

  After five minutes had passed Christine Mboya contacted Cole and told him that the shuttle had been dispatched to the single hospital on Sophocles, a farming world nine light-years distant. And ten minutes after that Briggs uttered a shout of triumph, and Cole knew they'd found the diamonds and the jewelry.

  “That's it,” said Cole. “Let's get the treasure and our dead back to the Teddy R.”

  “Don't you want to see the diamonds?” asked Morales.

  “There's plenty of time to admire our plunder after we cut the Achilles loose,” said Cole. “And you've got some work to do.”

  “I do?”

  Cole nodded. “I'll want the names and locations of the worlds where we won't be harassed if we land. And I especially need the name of Windsail's fence.”

  “His fence, sir?”

  “These diamonds cost us two lives and put a third in the hospital,” said Cole. “We'd damned well better get a price that makes that sacrifice worthwhile.”

  “We have a count on the diamonds, Captain,” said Christine Mboya.

  “And?”

  “Four hundred and sixteen, all uncut. Most of them are pretty big; it's almost as if they threw the small ones back until they grew up.” She paused. “There's also a ruby ring, matching earrings, a gold-and-diamond necklace, a gold tiara with about seventy-five gems set into it, a gold bracelet with a set of unknown stones on it, and a ring with a diamond that's bigger than any of the uncut ones.”

  “Well, it's a start,” said Cole. “I suppose we'd have done better if we'd robbed a spaceliner, or even one of the bigger jewelers back in the Republic, but this way there was no collateral damage to innocent civilians, and we didn't kill anyone who wasn't trying to kill us.”

  “It may turn out that the most valuable thing we came away with was Mr. Morales,” she said. “Rachel Marcos is handling his interrogation, and he's been speaking for two hours. Colonel Blacksmith has captured everything on her computer. Once she sorts it out, I'll feed all the data on friendly worlds and profitable commercial routes into the navigational computer.”

  “Rachel Marcos?” he repeated, surprised. “I know we're only carrying a skeleton crew of thirty-two—well, twenty-nine now—but she's about twenty-fifth in rank.”

  Christine smiled. “Men like to talk to her, or haven't you noticed?”

  “I know men like to pounce on her,” replied Cole dryly. “I wasn't aware of the talking.”

  “She's well protected,” Christine assured him. “We've got Mr. Pampas with her.”

  “Yeah, that should do the trick,” said Cole. “Providing he doesn't pounce first.”

  “He won't,” said Sharon Blacksmith's voice. “I'm watching them like a hawk.”

  “There haven't been any hawks in two thousand years,” said Cole.

  “All right,” amended Sharon. “I'm watching them like the best Security Chief in the business. And we've only got a crew of twenty-eight since this morning. Three dead, Luthor in the hospital.”

  “I want him to get the best medical help they've got,” said Cole. “He's the man who unlocked my cell when his job was guarding me. In the meantime,” he continued, “we've added Esteban Morales to the crew. That makes twenty-nine, in a ship that was designed to carry sixty-four.”

  “Esteban Morales has barely started shaving,” said Sharon. “Once he tells you everything he knows about the pirating business, what else can he do?”

  “We'll find out,” answered Cole. “Hell, what could any of us do when we were that young? If he needs training, we'll train him.”

  “Maybe we'll lock him in a room with Rachel and see who hollers ‘Uncle' first.”

  “Maybe we'll sic him on the Chief of Security when the Captain doesn't want to be bothered,” replied Cole with a smile.

  “He's only eighteen,” said Sharon. “He could be an old man before that happy day arrives.”

  “I shouldn't be listening to this,” said Christine.

  “You're Second Officer,” replied Cole. “No one ever promised that the job would all be killing bad guys and spending their money. You just have to learn to put up with the difficult stuff too.”

  She seemed about to make a serious reply, obviously thought better of it, and went back to studying her computers.

  “Just a minute,” said Sharon. There was a moment of silence. “Christine, find out the official name for a world named Riverwind, stick it in the navigational computer, and tell Wxakgini that's our destination.”

  “That's where Windsail's fence is?” asked Cole.

  “Yes,” said Sharon. “According to Mr. Morales, this guy is not just Windsail's fence; he's the biggest fence on the whole damned Inner Frontier.”

  “Has he got a name?”

  “Given his business, he's probably got twenty of them, but Mr. Morales says they know him as the Eel.”

  “Aw, come on,” said Cole. “No one calls himself the Eel.”

  “Just a minute,” said Sharon. “Right, that's just what Rachel and Bull pointed out. Clarification: Windsail called him the Eel, but only to his crew, never to the man's face. His name, at least the one Morales knows him by, is David Co
pperfield. Try not to laugh.”

  “What's so funny about that?” asked Christine as Cole tried unsuccessfully to repress a broad smile.

  “He's a fictional character.”

  “I'm not aware of him.”

  “It's from a book that was written more than a thousand years before the Galactic Era,” answered Cole. “Could be worse. At least we're dealing with someone who reads.”

  “I read, sir!” said Christine heatedly.

  “Let me amend that,” said Cole. “At least we're dealing with someone who reads classics from when Man was still Earthbound—and there aren't that many of us left. Better?”

  “I had no right to object to what you said originally, sir,” said Christine.

  “We're not in the Navy anymore, and we haven't written any regulations for pirates yet.”

  “What about ‘Pirates Are Not Innocent'?” asked Sharon's voice.

  “That applies to all pirates except us,” answered Cole. “And it's a statement of policy, not a regulation.”

  “Sir?” said Christine suddenly.

  “What is it?”

  “The computer says there are two worlds named Riverwind,” she said, frowning. “They're both Earth-type planets.”

  “Of course,” said Cole. “What alien would give a Terran name to a world? All right, put Mr. Morales's debriefing on audio and visual.”

  Suddenly images appeared of Morales, Rachel, and Pampas, all seated at a small table.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” said Cole, “but we need some clarification. There are two planets called Riverwind. Can you help us out, Mr. Morales?”

  “This one had polar ice caps,” answered Morales. “I remember seeing that whenever we'd approach it.”

  “Christine?” said Cole.

  She checked her computers, then shook her head. “They both have polar caps, sir.”

  “What else can you tell us about it, Mr. Morales?” asked Cole. “Do you know the name of the star system?”

  “No,” said Morales. He lowered his head in thought, then looked up suddenly. “I remember that it had four moons. Does that help?”

  “It ought to,” said Cole. He turned to Christine again. “Does it help?”