Captain Thrane turned back to them. “Speaking of your little doctor friend, she’s certainly a friendly sort. Well missed by my officers.”
“Don’t worry about Elfi, I’m sure she’s got a thrilldo aboard her little star skipper for those boring hours.”
“And she’ll have a planet full of farmers to keep her occupied when she gets to Pendor,” Yaf contributed to the discussion of Elfi’s morals.
Later, Yaf and Simla floated in the padded zero gravity lounge and played ball with Shap, who had an unfair advantage as he had inbuilt thrusters.
“This is boring,” Simla said eventually.
Yaf caught the ball thrown by Shap, twisted his body in mid-air and returned it. “So what do you propose we do for the duration of the voyage?”
Simla dimpled. “I think you should court me … properly. Dinner, dancing, gifts ..the ship has all the facilities.”
“I have a better idea, I think we should work out a way to beat Shap.”
“You’re sex mad!”
“I was thinking more of winning your hand.”
“Do you have ambitions to be the Great Father’s son in law someday, Yaf?”
“Hardly. I’d gladly resign from politics tomorrow. I have a notion to explore the universe, open up new colonies.”
“Oh, Yaf, that’s always been my dream too. Would you have room for a wife?”
“Only if we can sort Shap. He’s not going to let us have sex or get married, so he has to be fixed.”
A message sounded from the intercom, “Princess Simla and First Minister Alrick to the bridge please. Priority message from Pendor.”
They swam to the hatch and gave themselves a few moments to adjust to normal gravity before hurrying to the bow of the ship where the Captain awaited them.
“It’s your Doctor Elfi,” he boomed, “says she has to talk to you. In private.” He ushered them into his office and left.
Elfi’s image was already on the holo monitor. “Yaf,” she said quickly, “You must never use the astral projection amulet again.”
Yaf was confused. “What? Why?”
“Because it’s inherently dangerous. Even now it may be too late. I’ve reviewed all your scientific research and I must say it’s very slapdash. Your people haven’t paid much attention to safety at all.”
“What do you mean? They told me it was fine.”
“Hah,” she spat out, “They didn’t even understand the basic principles. What you do with your astral projection is phase shift between dimensions. How it’s done with such a small, low-powered, device I haven’t quite figured out yet, but the fact is that it’s essentially uncontrollable.”
“I’ve never had any problems.”
“It’s cumulative. You’re using the amulet to shift out of phase and then your mind to control what you do when you’re there. But the human brain isn’t designed to work out of phase with the rest of the universe. Every time you’ve phase shifted you’ve decreased your ability to control it. Eventually your brain synapses won’t be able to manage the process and you’ll phase out completely.”
“Oh, Yaf,” Simla shrieked.
The color drained from Yaf’s face. “Bloody hell! If I’d known …”
“Your scientific establishment is a 100 years our of date,” Elfi said smugly.
“Fire the lot of them,” Yaf said angrily.
“That’s bolting the stable door,” Elfi replied, “I’d recommend some rapid retraining instead. I’ll get the latest scientific materials from Old Earth and set up some programmes.”
Yaf calmed down by breathing deeply. “Thanks, Elfi, do what you have to. But I’ll have their guts for garters when I get back anyway. They always swore they were on the ball.”
“Scientific pride, dear boy, is the worst sort there is. Anyway, I’ve warned you, no more phasing.”
“Oh yeah, absolutely.”
“Bitch,” Simla wailed, when Elfi’s image had disappeared from the monitor, “she’s killed my ghost.”
Not far into the Halven system Captain Thrane invited them to the bridge again.
“Twelve ships for a reception committee,” he growled, “More than half their damn fleet, bloody show offs.”
“I am displeased,” Simla said imperiously, “Pendor put their entire navy at my disposal and this is the best the Halven can manage. The Great Father will be informed.”
Her words worked and the proud old Captain puffed his chest and stood erect. “All hands to stations,” he ordered, “There may be more of them and they may be in better condition, but we’ll show our mettle. Helm, increase speed to L3 and execute pattern Zeta Epsilon to bring us into the dead centre of their formation. Let’s show them what we’re made of.”
The Robin surged, its sleek but battered hull a pale reflection of the gleaming Halven ships. The manoeuvre it was attempting involved a loop over the top of the approaching fleet, bringing it into the hole in their formation. This was against all normal procedure as welcoming parties normally took position around an approaching guest. The radio blared with complaints and Captain Thrane grinned happily. “That got their attention.”
But the voices on the communicators turned from anger to panic and the Robin’s bridge crew looked intently to their instruments to see what was causing their concern.
“It’s another ship,” the First Officer declared, “approaching from the sun.”
“Oh, they’re playing a little game themselves,” the Captain said, “having their flagship come in at a tangent to make an impression. That damn Admiral Woln, I should have know he’d try some kind of fancy stunt. ”
“It’s not the Halven flagship. It’s .. it’s .. huge!”
The Captain glanced down at his command monitor and bellowed, “Battle stations!” He turned to Simla and Yaf, “I think your aliens have arrived. Please go to your quarters.”
Simla tried to protest but Yaf took her arm and led her away.
The well-drilled Halven fleet wheeled efficiently to face the intruder but even what they managed in numbers was dwarfed by the sheer size of the Riaz ship.
“Orders, Captain?” the First Officer demanded.
“Stand off them, they’ll have their own battle plans and we’ll only get in the way. Stand defensive unless they ask for our help.”
The battle, if it could be called that, was over quickly. The Halven ships tried to form a shield between the invader and their planet but were swept aside with unbelievable ease. Their own weapons seemed to have no effect on their massive opponent, the energy blasts bouncing off the alien hull in bright sparks of impotence, while its thunderous cannons ripped their ships’ hulls to shreds in seconds of sustained fire. The Halven ships wheeled around their giant foe bravely, returning to attack again and again, but were picked off one by one. Eventually those few left decided to try and make a run for it, but the behemoth kept on coming and blew them to dust. Captain Thrane watched his monitor, impotent, as humanity’s finest fleet was decimated before his eyes. At last he could bear it no longer. “Full steam ahead! Bring all guns to bear!”
The First Officer turned from his console. “The debris from the Halven ships is blocking our line of fire, sir. There may be survivors.”
“Damn! Bring her round to port.”
But even as the Robin circled round the debris field the enormous Riaz ship turned away and accelerated away into the void, disappearing from the Halven system.
“They didn’t attack Halven,” the First Officer cried.
Captain Thrane thumped his console angrily. “No need, with our only fleet destroyed, the Twelve Worlds lie defenceless. They’ve crushed us with one blow.”
In Simla’s cabin Yaf and the Princess had watched the brief battle silently and hand in hand on their monitor. As it ended Yaf gave her hand an extra hard squeeze and said, “We knew that might happen.”
Simla stifled a sob. “But to see it. So many lives …”
“They’ve dropped their bluff and made their intention
s clear.”
“But that reception fleet wouldn’t have been gathered if I hadn’t been visiting,” Simla insisted.
Yaf tried to comfort her. “You can’t blame yourself.”
“I was sent to prepare them to fight, not die.”
“Your mission’s ended, if the Twelve Worlds don’t rally now, they never will.”
“Rally round what? There aren’t fifty warships on the entire Twelve Worlds. They’ve squashed us like bugs.”
Yaf put his arm around her shoulders. “These are the times when we must find the iron in our soul. We cannot afford to despair. We must pick ourselves up, rebuild, fight back.”
She shrunk in his embrace. “Pretty speech. I hope it impresses the Riaz.”
“That’s not my Simla, Princess of Old Earth.”
“There may not be an Old Earth left by the time I get back to it.”
A deflated Captain Thrane came into the cabin. “You saw?”
They nodded solemnly.
“I’d have joined the battle, but …”
“No need to explain, Captain.”
The Captain pulled himself erect. “Your orders, First Minister?”
“Send commiserations to Halven and set course back to Pendor. Does that suit you, Simla?”
She ignored him, still grieving, whispered, “Oh, proud Halven.”
“Simla?”
She pulled away from Yaf’s arm. “I have to get back to Old Earth.”
Yaf nodded in understanding but said “This attack will disrupt all passenger traffic. We should return to Pendor and see if we can get together a military escort for you.”
“A military escort,” she laughed wildly, “what good’s that going to do against those monsters? We’re finished, finished.”
Yaf turned to Shap. “Shap, I’m going to strike your mistress, but it is not an assault, it is for medical reasons. Will you permit this?”
The metal man hesitated and Simla took the opportunity to swipe Yaf on the back of the head. “Don’t torment the poor thing, you swine, and I’m not hysterical. It’s just perfectly obvious that no military escort is going to be able to defend me against the Riaz, so I don’t see the need for one.”
“Maybe so, but I have to get back to Pendor and there doesn’t seem to be any other ships available.”
“I must speak to the Great Father then. Captain, may I use your transmitter?”
Thrane looked abashed. “I must give priority to informing the Twelve Worlds of what has happened here, Princess. But as soon as the transmitter is free, of course …”
“I’m sorry, of course, you must do your duty. Has there been any word from Halven?”
“They are disbelieving, obviously, but their sensors will have picked up what happened.”
“Send them my apologies for cancelling this visit, but I’m sure they’ll understand.” Suddenly she stopped. “Perhaps I should stay. Show sympathy. Guide me, Yaf.”
The First Minister paused. “It would be a gesture and appreciated, but I think they’ll understand your need to get home.”
She stared unblinkingly at the stars. “Still, I should do something.” She turned to the Captain. “Sir, can the Robin take atmosphere?”
“I could land her if I wanted to, though she wasn’t built for it.”
“Would you be kind enough to fly as low as safety permits over their capital and have your gunners spell ‘Old Earth Stands’ on the skyline?”
Captain Thrane felt a lump in his throat but managed a proud salute before retreating to his task.
“You have a flair for the dramatic,” Yaf said.
“I am a Princess of Old Earth, we have little but dramatic flair left.”
VIII
They returned to Pendor to find the planet in an uproar and the capital was full of farm workers eager to join up. As on every other world the population was flocking to the flag and taking military training, but Simla knew that the lack was not of willing soldiers but of ships and guns. And not the ships and guns of old, which had failed so miserably, but new and effective machines that would stop the Riaz.
She spoke to her father via Pendor’s long distance transmitter and was shocked at the change in the Great Father. He was old, admittedly, but now his face was gaunt and his hair had whitened.
“You witnessed it?” he asked.
“Yes father,” Simla replied meekly, “and it should not be described as the Battle of Halven but the Massacre of Halven. Our ships never stood a chance.”
“The Riaz said it was a diplomatic mission to Halven as the closest human inhabited world.”
“Well, we know them for what they are now.”
“We always suspected, they merely confirmed our worst expectations. Our ships will not challenge them again until we’re ready.”
“But that’s just giving them an open invitation to invade.”
“Our intelligence service doesn’t think so. The Riaz domestic news reports only that they’ve encountered another primitive species. We’re no threat to them so they expect to scoop us up in their own good time.”
“Will we be ready?” Simla asked, dreading the reply.
“Our shipyards are working flat out and we’re bringing new technology online every day. They’ll find us a tougher nut to crack than Halven.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“It would be nice to have a Princess of Old Earth lead a fleet from Old Earth, but you’re no soldier.”
An old argument raged again. “Because you wouldn’t let me be one!”
Her father didn’t rise to the bait. “I didn’t see the need then, when you were so young. I never foresaw the Riaz and neither did you, young lady.”
“I must be allowed to avenge Halven,” Simla insisted.
“How so?”
“That fleet met their fate because they rose to greet me.” She calmed. “Father, I’m prepared to join the military as an ordinary soldier. I will fight for Old Earth and the Twelve Worlds.”
“I know, my little Simla, you were always a fighter. There will be a role for you in this war, don’t doubt that, but let me think on it.”
“There is another matter.”
The Great Father seemed to sense what was coming. “Yes?” he asked flatly.
“You know that Shap’s programming is flawed?”
“Yes, according to Dr Alrick. She thinks I was too strict in my command structure. Has he got worse?”
“No, but I’ve met the one.”
“So soon? What house is he of?”
“He is not of any noble house, Father. But he is the First Minister of Pendor.”
“And does he have a name, this First Minister of the farmers?”
“Yaf… Yaf Alrick.”
The Great Father nodded. “I’ve heard the name. He is well thought of, an intelligent man. But Shap’s malfunction must wait till the present crisis is over.”
“Of course. I just wanted to let you know.”
“You do not disappoint me, my daughter. I will speak to you soon.” And his image faded from the holo monitor and Simla felt like a little girl again, missing her father already as he departed on some long trip.
Elfi, of course, was delighted to have her ‘little sister’ back with her and fussed endlessly over the trauma Simla must have suffered at seeing the Helvans humbled. But Simla was more concerned with what the petite doctor had discovered about Yaf’s phasing problem.
“Oh, missing your midnight visitor?” Elfi asked pertly.
“He may be the only man I ever have, if you don’t fix Shap. Honestly, you scientists are hopeless. A crazy android and a wraith-like lover, and you can’t fix either.”
“I could fix both if they’d let me take their heads off. That’s where both their problems lie. Shap just needs his programming tweaked and Yaf needs to have his neural synapses strengthened, though we don’t know how to do that yet.”
“Hopeless!”
“If I could fix Shap, Yaf wouldn’t have to b
e a ghost.”
“So he was just an illusion?”
“Stop worrying about your precious virginity.”
“Damn my virginity. Have I been fucked by a man or not?”
“Did you enjoy it?”
“What’s that got to do with it? You enjoy a thrilldo on a regular basis, but it doesn’t stop you throwing it aside when the real thing’s available.”
“Touché. Simla, I’m your friend and I will turn my best efforts to sorting your love life as soon as I can, but I have other priorities just now.”
Simla decided to leave it. “Anything I can help with?”
“No, not unless you can find a way to mass produce Shap’s armour on a battleship scale. Oh, and on a farming world with hardly any heavy industry too.”
Simla felt suddenly sorry for inflicting her petty complaint on Elfi. But her tiny mentor had always been so tough and able to take it in the past. “You poor lamb, you look exhausted.”
Elfi grinned. “Those burly farmers take a lot of looking after.”
“No, after you’ve been fucking, which is most nights, you glow. Now, you just look drained.”
“To be honest with you I don’t have the energy for sex, which is a first in my lustful career. But I’ve never faced up to an alien empire before.”
Simla gave her a hug. “You’re not alone, big sister. We’ll fight this alien scum together, Simla and Elfi, daughters of Old Earth!”
Elfi returned her hug but turned back to her computer impatiently. “I’m sorry, Simla, I have work to do.”
“Oh, if only I had something I could get my teeth into.”
“Yaf?”
“I wish.”
“I wonder how Shap would react if Yaf lay totally motionless and you made love to him.”
“Oh God, you’re right, he couldn’t see that as a threat,” Simla squealed, “I could have my evil way with him.”
“I’m thinking of his programming, slut, not your pleasure. Will his ‘reject mate’ sub-routine kick in or not. It’s an interesting proposition.”
“So you don’t think I should try it?”
Sex, the Stars & Princess Simla Page 7