Starship

by Michael D. Resnick

  “What she wants doesn't interest me.”

  “I never thought it did. But we'd still like it back, so I'm willing to make you an offer.” The Shark stared at him, but didn't say a word. “Same as before. If you and your crew will surrender your weapons and become our prisoners, we'll drop you off at the first uninhabited oxygen world we come to. I won't return your weapons, and I won't give you any means of reporting your plight or your position to any passing ships or nearby worlds, but at least you'll be alive. Have we got a deal?”

  “I would rather die fighting than live a prisoner, even in a jail the size of a world,” said the Shark.

  “I was afraid you were going to say that,” said Cole. “Very well. I have another proposition for you.” Again the Shark said nothing. “The former Captain of the Pegasus—I'd give you the name she's currently using, but I'm sure it's not the one you know—is willing to give you the chance you want: to die fighting.”

  “Explain.”

  “She'll come down to the planet and fight you, one-on-one. If she wins, your crew gives up the Pegasus and everything in it, and surrenders to me.”

  “And if I win?”

  “We give up all claim to the Pegasus and you go free.”

  “Wilson!” said Sharon's disembodied and outraged voice.

  “If he kills her, what the hell do we want the Pegasus for?” Cole responded. He stared at the Hammerhead Shark. “Do we have a deal?”

  “In principle,” replied the Shark. “Only one detail must be changed.”

  “Which detail?” said Cole suspiciously.

  “It occurs to me that your side is putting up nothing of value,” said the Shark. “The woman is not a member of your crew, so surely you don't care if she lives or dies. And you just admitted that you have no interest in the Pegasus. So if I win, you've lost nothing. We have to sweeten the pot.”

  “With what?”

  “I accept your proposition—provided that I fight you rather than her.”

  Cole stared at the Hammerhead Shark's grinning image for almost a full minute without speaking.

  “Well?” demanded the Shark.

  “You're on,” said Cole.

  “Wilson!” shouted Sharon.

  “Are you crazy?” demanded Forrice.

  “Be quiet, all of you. He challenged me. I accepted. That's the end of it.”

  “Oh, no, Commander Cole,” said the Shark with a malevolent smile. “The end of it will come two seconds after our combat begins.”

  “It's Captain Cole. What weapons do we use?”

  “I offer you your choice,” said the Shark. “And they needn't be confined to government-issue. I'd dearly love to battle to the death with broadswords.”

  “I don't doubt it,” replied Cole. “But we don't happen to have any.”

  “Pulse guns, burners, screechers, you name it,” said the Shark. “Whatever it is, I accept it.”

  “Screechers.”

  “Very well. Screechers it shall be.”

  “One more thing,” said Cole.

  “What?”

  “I'm not fighting where someone from the Pegasus can backshoot me.”

  “I don't need any help,” the Shark assured him.

  “Nevertheless.”

  “Doubtless you have something in mind.”

  “There's a ridge about two miles west of where your ship is located,” said Cole. “I'll fly a shuttle down and land on the far side of it. The Pegasus doesn't have anything that can shoot through the ridge without killing both of us.”

  “How do I know you won't bring an entire party down with you?” demanded the Shark.

  “I'll land before you walk to the ridge, and transmit holographs of the interior and exterior of the shuttlecraft to the Pegasus. We can speak during the transmission, so you'll know it's current and not canned. When you're satisfied that I'm alone and armed with nothing but a sonic pistol, come on over and take your chances.”

  “It's a deal!” said the Shark enthusiastically. “I'll be known as the one who killed the famous Wilson Cole!”

  “It's ‘infamous' these days,” said Cole dryly. “The shuttle will depart the Theodore Roosevelt in the next five or six minutes. Keep an eye out for it—or in your case, maybe I should suggest that you keep an eye in for it.”

  But the Shark had already broken the connection.

  “He's inside the Pegasus,” reported Domak.

  “Wilson,” said Sharon's image, “sonic weapons won't work on an airless world. You know that.”

  “Yeah, I know it,” said Cole. “But the Hammerhead seems to have overlooked it. I get the feeling he's not the brightest shark in the water.”

  “But he's the strongest, and you're going down there without any functioning weapons.”

  “Then I'll just have to improvise, won't I?” He turned to the Valkyrie. “Walk down to the shuttle with me.”

  “Val, not me?” demanded Sharon, half angry, half hurt.

  “That's right,” said Cole.

  “You're going to let me fight in your place, right?” said Val eagerly as she walked with him to the airlift.

  “No, I gave him my word.”

  “But I'm the only one with a chance against him!” she protested.

  “We're short of time,” said Cole, “so just for once stop arguing with me and listen, all right?”

  She stared at him curiously as they exited the airlift and walked to the shuttle bay. “Go ahead and talk.”

  “That's better,” said Cole. “As soon as I leave, I want you to go back to the bridge and monitor the Shark. When he sees me touch down, he's going to leave the Pegasus.”

  “Now tell me something I don't know.”

  “I'm about to.”

  He gave Val her instructions, boarded the Kermit, and took it down to the surface, landing on the west side of the ridge, as he had said he would do. He was sure the shuttle was being watched from the Pegasus, but he shot off a pair of chemical flares, just to make doubly certain they knew he was there.

  “Let me see the interior of your shuttle,” demanded the Shark.

  Cole attached his helmet to his protective suit, then stepped outside and let the holo cameras show every inch of it.

  “Now respond to me so that I'll know this image wasn't prepared a long time ago,” said the Shark.

  “I am responding to you so you'll know this image wasn't prepared a long time ago,” replied Cole. “I have touched down west of the ridge I mentioned, and I set off two flares. Satisfied?”

  “I'm on my way,” said the Shark. “It should take me twelve Standard minutes to get there. Say a twelve-minute prayer to your god, Commander Cole, because in less than thirteen minutes you will be dead.”

  “I keep telling you, it's Captain Cole.”

  “Soon it will be the late Captain Cole.”

  “Save your breath,” said Cole. “I don't want anyone to say I beat you because you were too tired to fight or that you used up all your oxygen getting here.”

  The Shark muttered what Cole assumed was an obscenity in its native tongue and stopped transmitting.

  Cole went back into the Kermit, closed the hatch, took off his helmet, and sat down at the command console. He waited until seven minutes had passed, then activated his subspace radio.

  “Okay, Val,” he said. “It's time. I'll listen in if you don't mind.”

  “Right,” she said. “This is the Teddy R, calling the Pegasus. Take a good look at my image. I want to make sure you know who's contacting you.” A short pause. “I know every one of you backstabbing bastards, and you know me. And since you know me, you know it's not an empty threat when I tell you that if you don't take off within one minute and head two hundred miles due east, I'll blow you apart where you sit. If you obey my orders, you will be taken prisoner and set down on an oxygen world, but at least you'll be alive. If you're still on the ground in forty-five seconds, I guarantee you won't be.”

  A longer pause.

  “If you try to l
eave the planet, there'll be pieces of you in orbit for the next million years.”

  A final pause.

  “All right, Captain. They're airborne and heading east.”

  “Let them see that you're tracking them from above,” said Cole. “It'll encourage them to land where they're supposed to land.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Well, I'll be damned,” said Cole.

  “What is it?” asked Val.

  “In all the time you've been aboard the Teddy R, that's the first time you've ever said ‘Yes, sir' to me. It's going to be a shame to lose you.”

  He cut the transmission, then contacted the Shark.

  “You still on your way here?” he asked.

  “Where else would I be?”

  “Well, I'm afraid I've got some disappointing news for you,” said Cole. “I've changed my mind.”

  “What do you mean?” demanded the Shark suspiciously.

  “I don't feel like fighting anymore,” said Cole, firing up the Kermit. “Perhaps some other time.”

  “I always knew you were a coward, despite all your medals,” said the Shark. “When I get the Pegasus repaired, I'm coming after you, and next time you won't be able to run away.”

  “That could pose a problem,” said Cole. “How much oxygen do you have in your suit?”

  “Enough.”

  “Enough to walk two hundred miles?” said Cole. “I doubt it.”

  “What are you talking about?” shrieked the Shark.

  “You'll figure it out,” said Cole as the Kermit took off.

  He returned to the Teddy R five minutes later. Val, Sharon, and Forrice were waiting for him in the shuttle bay.

  “Not bad,” said Val with a smile.

  “I still want to know: Why the screecher?” asked Sharon.

  “If something had gone wrong and I'd had to fight him, it made more sense to face an enemy who was armed with a pistol that didn't work on this world than one that did,” replied Cole, starting to climb out of his protective suit.

  “I guess you were right,” said Forrice.

  “What about?” asked Cole.

  The Molarian throw a heavy arm around Cole's shoulders. “Fools die. Heroes live.”

  “Shit!” said Val, standing in the cargo area of the Pegasus, hands on hips. “Shit!”

  She was staring at a small open container that was totally empty.

  “What the hell happened to my Meladotian crystals?” she demanded.

  “He sold them,” said one of the cowering crew members.

  “To whom?”

  “We don't know. He went down to a planet with them and came back with money.”

  “All right, he came back with money,” said Val. “Where is it?”

  “He hid it.”

  “On the ship?”

  “No, he didn't trust us.”

  “Well, he was right about that, anyway,” she said disgustedly. “Now, where is it?”

  “He had caches all over the Frontier.”

  She turned to Cole, who had been silently observing her. “Damn it! I can't afford a new light drive without those fucking crystals!”

  “I hope you don't think the Teddy R can pay for one,” he replied.

  She glared at him, then at her former crew. “All right, you bastards!” she snapped. “Get busy disconnecting the pulse cannon and the cloak.”

  “What do you want us to do with them?”

  “Move ‘em to the Teddy R,” she said. “This smug-looking bastard”—she indicated Cole—“will tell you where to put them. Don't cause any trouble and we'll put you off on a colony world instead of an uninhabited one.”

  “We appreciate this, of course,” said Cole. “But why are you giving them away?”

  “I'm not giving them away,” she said. “I'm taking them with me.”

  Cole looked around the area. “Where can we talk alone?” he asked her.

  “This way,” she said, leading him to an empty storage chamber. The door irised to let them in, then snapped shut behind them.

  “Val, I don't want to argue with you in front of your former crew, but we can't just carry tons of weaponry in the cargo hold for an indefinite period of time.”

  “You're not hauling them,” she said. “Install them.”

  “I thought you said you were taking them with you,” said Cole, puzzled.

  “I am,” she said. “I'm the Third Officer of the Teddy R, remember?”

  “That was just temporary, until we got the Pegasus back for you.”

  “Without the crystals, I can't afford to fix it.”

  “Then you'll find a smaller ship.”

  “Forget it.”

  “What changed your mind?” he asked.

  “I've been doing some thinking,” said Val. “Your crew gave up their careers to follow you. Mine sold me out. I'm a damned good Captain, but maybe it's not a bad idea for me to stay with the Teddy R until I'm a little better at being a leader.”

  “You're welcome to,” said Cole. “But you're under no obligation to.”

  “If I aimed a pulse gun at you, there'd be a fight between Forrice and Sharon and all the others to take the blast in your place.” She jerked a head toward the crew of the Pegasus, hard at work moving weaponry on the other side of the door. “Every one of those bastards would fight to be the first to fire the pistol at me. I'm staying with you until I learn why.”

  “We're happy to have you,” said Cole. “The subject is closed.”

  He turned to the door, waiting for it to iris, stepped through, and led the crew into the Teddy R. It took them half a day to move the weaponry that he wanted, while Val collected the few things of value that the Shark had not sold or traded. Then they landed the Pegasus on the planet against the day they could refurbish it, secured it so no one could steal it, dropped its crew off on an agricultural world, and headed back to Riverwind.

  “We're in orbit around Riverwind now,” announced Forrice. “We'd better not linger too long. We were lucky last time, but the police and the Navy can't be expected to overlook us again. Someone on this damned planet had to see the Pegasus take out those three Muscatel ships.”

  “Tell Moyer and the others to get back here,” said Cole. He paused. “You know, this ship had four shuttlecraft just a few months ago. Then we lost the Quentin when Captain Fujiama died, and we lost the Archie right here. All we've got left are the Kermit and the Alice. I think once we accumulate a little loot, the first thing we'd better do is replace those shuttles.”

  “Sounds reasonable.”

  “Didn't Teddy Roosevelt have six kids? Which two haven't we used?”

  “Let me check,” said Sokolov, who was manning the computer console. He looked up a moment later. “Edith and Theodore Junior.”

  “Okay, we need an Edith and a Junior. At fifty percent of market value, maybe we can get them relatively soon.”

  He made a face.

  “What's the matter?” asked Forrice.

  “Listen to me,” said Cole. “I'm a military officer, and I'm talking about percentages of market value. I sound like an insurance appraiser.”

  “You're neither,” said the Molarian. “You're a pirate.”

  “Same thing. What I'm not is a businessman, and I don't like sounding like one.”

  “One of us is not in a good mood,” noted Forrice.

  “One of us is in a goddamned foul mood,” said Cole. “When you and I were serving on the Sophocles all those years ago, did you ever think we'd be choosing our targets based on what percent of market value we could get for their goods?”

  “Wilson, go get a drink or whatever it is that affects your metabolism,” said Forrice. “You're depressing me.”

  “If I can't depress my oldest friend, who can I depress?”

  “There's always me,” said Sharon's voice.

  “Don't you ever get tired of listening in on private conversations?” asked Cole.

  “If they're being held on the bridge, they're not private,
” she shot back. “I second Forrice's request. Start acting more like a hero and stop depressing the First Officer.”

  “All right,” he said. “Meet me for a drink and I'll depress you instead.”

  “The mess hall?”

  “I wouldn't want to depress all the diners,” replied Cole dryly. “Come on over to my office.”

  “All right,” she said. “I hope you're not thinking of having sex on that tiny desk of yours.”

  “I'm not thinking of having sex at all.”

  “You are in a foul mood,” she said. “I'll be there in five minutes.”

  Cole went down to his office, puzzled by his mood. At first he thought it was Morales's death that was bothering him, but he knew it wasn't. He'd hardly known the young man, and it had been a painful but easy decision to make. It certainly wasn't the Shark's death, or the destruction of the Pegasus. But something was bothering him, and he had spent most of the day trying to figure out what it was.

  “Hi,” said Sharon, entering the office and setting a bottle down on his desk. “Here, make a pig of yourself. You're among friends.”

  He stared at the bottle and made no attempt to reach for it.

  “I'm past the age where I look good dropping grapes in reclining gentlemen's mouths,” she continued, “but if you ask politely, maybe I'll pour some of this stuff down yours.”

  “Later,” he said. “I'm not thirsty.”

  “What is it?” Sharon asked seriously. “I've seen you tense, mad, frustrated, even frightened, but I've never seen you looking so morose. I'd like to think it's because Val made a pass at you, but I don't see any wounds.”

  He couldn't help smiling at that, but the smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

  “I don't know,” he said. “When I was a kid, I watched all the adventure holos. Pirate stories were my favorite. So now I'm a pirate, and what the hell have we accomplished? We've destroyed the Achilles, we killed its crew, we killed the kid, we killed a bunch of men on Picacio IV, we killed the Shark, we killed the Pegasus, we arranged for the three Muscatel ships to get killed.” He sighed. “And what did we get for all this death and destruction? A higher percentage of market value.” He stared at her. “Do you think it was worth it?”

  “The question isn't was it worth it, but rather did we have a choice?” she replied. “You might view it as a cosmic joke.”