Eternity's End

by Jeffrey Carver

  Talbott drew a deep breath. Code Blue. That was what he'd been preparing for. Command was not deserting them, after all. He turned and shouted, "Get the crew aboard! We launch now!"

  * * *

  Legroeder was blowing on a cup of hot coffee when a shout brought his attention back to the newscast on the main screen.

  "—major evidence just filed with Attorney General Dulley by Harriet Mahoney reportedly confirms claims made by the Kyber captain about Spacing Commissioner North. The commissioner's whereabouts have been unknown since shortly after he was relieved of duties by Secretary General Albright—though reports have come in of a mysterious launch at Elmira Spaceport. North last spoke to the press as he was leaving Spacing Authority headquarters for what he described as a high-level conference. Speculation has been rife about the possible nature of that conference, some believing it to be with the secretary general..."

  Legroeder blew a kiss at the console. "Love you, Harriet!"

  Captain Friedman, standing behind him, murmured, "Rigger Legroeder, you certainly have brought us back to interesting times."

  Legroeder nodded. "Haven't I just?"

  Some time later, Nav Officer Johnson reported a course change by the Spacing Authority destroyers.

  "What are they doing?" Friedman asked.

  "I'm not sure."

  "Captain," Tiegs said, "there's a report of a high-speed ship making orbit from Elmira spaceport. A small one."

  "So?"

  "Apparently Commissioner North is aboard. Wait—here it is." A news loop displayed an image of a small vessel streaking into the sky above the spaceport. It was not assisted by a tow, which meant that it was most likely military or police. A voiceover was now giving it a tentative identification as a Spacing Authority police cruiser commandeered by North.

  Good God, Legroeder thought.

  "Can we see it?" Friedman demanded, as the main screen switched back to the outside view. Impris was presently at two thousand kilometers, and moving inward. The globe of the planet was much larger now, its horizon a gentle curve across the viewscreen.

  "Not yet, sir," said Johnson. "But it should be coming over the horizon soon. The two destroyers are moving to intercept, I think. Maybe to protect it?"

  "Captain, Cantha's picked up some of the military com-chatter off the net," Tiegs said. "Someone's decoded the secure freqs and they're rebroadcasting it!" Tiegs was chortling as he switched on the audio.

  A voice that Legroeder recognized as North's came through, slightly distorted. "Vigilant, I am en route to an emergency parlay with the intruders. I require you to deploy your ships to ensure my safe passage. This is a top security mission..."

  The signal broke up; then another voice replied: "Commissioner North, we have no authorization for your flight. Technically, you are no longer in command. If we can obtain confirmation—"

  There was a hiss, as if the commissioner were stepping on their transmission. Then his voice again. "...no time, there is no time. These Kyber are treacherous. If you permit Impris to dock, there may be very serious consequences. Time is of the essence..."

  Freem'n Deutsch floated alongside Legroeder. "Is he making this up as he goes? Why's he trying to keep us from docking?"

  Legroeder shook his head helplessly. Was North just scared now, scared and running to Carlotta, and trying to distract everyone in the meantime? Legroeder felt a growing sense of unreality. Too many incomprehensible actions...

  "Captain, a call coming in from the Kyber," said Tiegs. Friedman frowned, as the Kyber captain's face appeared in a small frame at the corner of the screen.

  "Impris, this is Arden of Farhawk. We've received an interesting proposal from Commissioner North. He says he can make new arrangements for your ship. If we escort you directly to the Narseil Rigging Institute, we can avoid a great deal of entanglement here. We are contacting the Narseil directly to confirm this arrangement. In the meantime, prepare for a course change..."

  Legroeder drew a breath, his blood suddenly cold. If KM/C had a chance to hijack Impris, he didn't doubt they would take it. Who would there be to stop them, if they left the Faber Eri system? "Captain, no—" he whispered "—don't do it."

  Friedman was already scowling over the com board. "Get me that Narseil diplomat ship," he snapped to Tiegs. Cantha stirred uneasily at the com-console, while at the back of the bridge, Fre'geel was looking increasingly alert. "Narseil courier," Friedman barked. "Have you received any messages from Commissioner North or the Kyber ship? Please respond."

  Fre'geel was moving forward, toward Captain Friedman.

  There was a long delay. Then a reply from the Narseil ship: "This is Narseil Diplomat Vessel Essling. We have received messages from both parties. Although the Narseil government has no wish to be a party to hostilities in any form, we do guarantee shelter and asylum, if you choose to bring your vessel to our Rigging Institute."

  Captain Friedman cleared his throat. "Are you saying that you intend to cooperate with North and the Kyber ship?"

  "We will cooperate with whatever action provides your ship the greatest protection and security."

  Cleverly put, Legroeder thought. Especially since the Faber Eri authorities had hardly been welcoming. He felt his throat tighten. Were the Narseil about to have a change of heart here, to get Impris sooner? Legroeder glanced at Fre'geel, whose neck-sail was quivering. The Narseil commander seemed ready for the possibility; he was avoiding Legroeder's gaze. Legroeder frowned and edged toward Freem'n Deutsch. Freem'n met his eyes with a steady, glowing gaze.

  "What's that?" asked Friedman, pointing. "Is that North's ship, coming over the horizon?" On the screen, a point of light was moving just above the delicate boundary line between the planet's atmosphere and the black of space.

  "That's him," said Johnson. "He's not the only one, though. There's another ship following him up. I wonder who that is."

  Tiegs interjected, "A second ship took off from Elmira, shortly after North. Unauthorized and identified as belonging to something called Centrist Strength. What the hell does that mean? Are they pursuing him?"

  In the left-hand frame of the screen was a magnified view of the two Spacing Authority warships that earlier had been threatening Impris. Their space inductors blazed as they accelerated on an intercept course. Were they moving to help the commissioner's ship or hinder it? This, Legroeder thought, could very quickly get out of control.

  Cantha switched an audio channel, and appeared to be picking up an eavesdropped, rebroadcast military frequency.

  "—is Commissioner North the only one aboard the launch?"

  "—negative—pilot, and traveling with one aide—Berkhauer—"

  "Do we have any confirmation from HQ?"

  "Negative. He may be acting on his own."

  There was a sound of muttered imprecations. Then: "All right. We'd better give him some protection. But let's see if we can slow up his rendezvous a little, until we get word from command."

  "Aye, aye."

  "Whoops," said Johnson, and Legroeder looked up as four ships of the Kyber fleet abruptly shot out ahead of the formation, streaking inward as though to join the impending fray. Was everybody trying to get to North first? Was Farhawk really hoping to make a deal with him?

  "Here's a different thread," said Cantha.

  A scratchy hiss, then: "I must meet with them alone, Vigilant. Repeat, there may be jeopardy to Impris if I cannot conclude this parlay successfully. Please keep your ships at a distance to avoid inflaming the situation..."

  Hiss.

  "Commissioner North—this is Captain Sanspach of Vigilant. We have no verification of your authority for this mission. Please stabilize your orbit until we receive confirmation."

  The commissioner's voice was edged with desperation. "You don't understand. There may be an attack from other Kyber forces if I don't meet with this fleet. Break off your approach and let me proceed."

  Sanspach sounded skeptical. "Commissioner, can you identify the ship following
you? We have information that it is registered to Centrist Strength."

  "Do not—repeat, do NOT—allow that ship to approach! I am uncertain of its purpose!"

  "But Commissioner—" Sanspach paused, then muttered, "Damn—!" before cutting his transmission.

  For two long minutes, there was near-silence on the bridge of Impris as everyone watched the movements of the ships. The Kyber ships were hurtling toward a possible rendezvous, but the two Spacing Authority destroyers were closer. And the Centrist Strength ship was closer still, and gaining...

  A new transmission came in on a tight beam from the Kyber commander. "This is Kyber Farhawk. Impris, you are to lay in the following course and prepare to boost out of orbit as soon as negotiations are complete." A series of instructions followed.

  "No!" Legroeder shouted.

  Friedman looked defeated. "They have the weapons, Rigger. I can't refuse, if they order us."

  "No, you must not resist," Commander Fre'geel said in a soft hiss.

  Legroeder hesitated. The Narseil were desperately eager to get Impris—and him—to their institute. Would they be willing to abduct him and the passengers and crew of Impris to do it? They owed no allegiance to Faber Eridani. But how about him? Did they owe it to him? He glanced at Cantha and saw a torn expression. Shit. If only he had a weapon.

  To do what with?

  Deutsch floated closer, almost protectively. Legroeder blinked. He leaned into Deutsch and whispered into his friend's ear. A moment later, Deutsch's telescoping arm shot out with blinding speed and put something in Legroeder's hand. He gripped it before his eyes had a chance to focus on it.

  A tiny neutraser pistol, a one-shot. Legroeder snapped it up into view, for all to see. "Listen to me, people—"

  Fre'geel's eyes narrowed.

  "Rigger Legroeder, what are you doing?" Friedman protested. "Raising a weapon against friends?"

  "No," Legroeder said, and drew a sharp breath. He raised the gun and placed its muzzle to his own head. To the slight bump of the implant in his temple. "Not against friends."

  Fre'geel let out a low hiss.

  "All right? Back me up, Freem'n." Keeping the gun to his head, Legroeder stepped forward so that all on the bridge could see him, and to let the captain of the Kyber ship see him on the monitor. "You all get it? This ship does not leave Faber Eri orbit. If it does, it goes without the information you all want so badly. Captain Arden, I suggest you back off and forget that little change of plans of yours. And Fre'geel?" He faced the Narseil commander. "Do you wish to say something to the good Captain Arden?"

  He had never seen a Narseil's eyes shrink so narrow.

  * * *

  Talbott's face held a grim expression as Red Knight streaked into space, but his heart was racing. Somehow he had known that it would fall to him, in the end, to stop the former Spacing Commissioner. At last he was doing something instead of waiting, always waiting—this was why he had joined Centrist Strength—to act, and to make a difference.

  They would make a difference, all right. The three of them—Talbott, his pilot Hanson, his weapons officer Manny. They would make clear that you do not kick sand in the eyes of Centrist Strength. And they would do it not just on behalf of Strength, but of all the people of this world who believed in the destiny, in the future.

  One of their own leaders had fallen away, and it was the task of Red Knight to bring him in. To stop a disaster from happening. Ottoson North, fleeing like a jackrabbit when the going got tough, and risking the security of all they had worked for.

  The planetary horizon had spread out in a round arc beneath them, glowing against the eternal black of space. "How long to weapons lock?"

  Manny replied, "Long shot, in about four minutes. Tighter shot, and more options, about seven. Major, I'm picking up a couple of destroyers moving toward intercept. Must be Vigilant and Forte."

  "Message coming in from them now," Talbott muttered, adjusting the com.

  "Vigilant to unidentified Centrist Strength vessel. Discontinue your pursuit at once. Repeat—call off your pursuit. We warn you not to interfere with Spacing Authority business."

  Talbott didn't answer, but snorted as he punched up a secure transmission to Command. Text only—not as classy as what the Authority used, maybe, but more secure. He sent: Range in four to seven minutes. Have received a warning from Authority destroyers. Estimate they will be a factor in six minutes. Awaiting final instructions.

  As he waited for a response, he watched Faber Eridani turn beautifully beneath them. They were still in high acceleration, their space inductors pulling them around the planet in a guided path at about twice standard orbital velocity. If their power shut down, they'd fly off into space like a stone from a sling.

  "What's the word, Major?" Hanson asked, eyes glued to the controls.

  "Coming now." Talbott held his breath as their orders scrolled across.

  Code Blue confirmed. Take your prey, and good hunting.

  Talbott's voice caught. He'd trained for this for years, but he'd never actually been in ship-to-ship combat. It was time to prove his mettle. Those two Authority destroyers weren't going to play games. Should he say something to his crew?

  He drew a breath. Sacrifice is the name of the game, he whispered silently. No guts, no glory. He glanced left, right. His voice was gravel. "You know what we're here for. They're going to try to stop us. Let's get the job done."

  * * *

  For a long moment, no one on the Impris bridge spoke, or even seemed to breathe. Then Fre'geel, stiffly, moved toward the screen. "Captain of the Kyber. I must inform you that the Narseil Navy—" he hesitated, just a heartbeat "—stands in support of our colleague Rigger Legroeder. We cannot cooperate with the coerced removal of Impris from her home system." He looked back at Legroeder, his eyes drawn with tension.

  The Kyber captain spoke forcefully. "You must cooperate... and you will..."

  "And what?" answered Fre'geel. "Bring back a dead man, with dead implants? Will that advance your cause?"

  The first hint of uncertainty entered the Kyber commander's voice. "You may regret not taking this opportunity."

  "I'll regret it more," Fre'geel said flatly, "if Rigger Legroeder pulls that trigger."

  Legroeder strained to keep his hand from shaking. "Captain Friedman," he murmured to the horrified Impris skipper, "I'm sorry to have to do it this way. But if you went with the KM/C fleet... I'm not sure you would ever reach the Narseil Institute. These are pirates, the same ones who tried to destroy you and us, once before."

  "Skipper," Tiegs said urgently, "there's an awful lot of coded com activity among the Kyber ships. I can't read any of it, but there's some heavy-duty discussion going on."

  Friedman squinted, and suddenly pointed to the center of the screen. "What's that?" Seven ships were converging on North's launch from above, in front, and behind. The pursuing ship was closest, and gaining rapidly.

  "North's ship has increased power," Johnson said. "He's trying to get away from the Centrist Strength ship and join up with—oh my God, what are they doing?"

  There were several flickers of light on the screens.

  "What's happening?" Friedman snapped.

  Johnson worked frantically at the controls. The image on the screen shifted left and right, then snapped to a higher magnification. "It's weapons fire! Centrist Strength has fired a missile at North! Now one of the destroyers is firing at the Centrist—"

  Blast of static, then North's voice: "Stop! What are you—?"

  North's words were cut off as a burst of white light ballooned out like a small sun on the near side of the planetary horizon. It was followed by a second, more distant sunburst.

  Legroeder, stunned, had to struggle to keep the neutraser to his head. Cold, hard metal against his temple.

  "Mother of—"

  "Johnson, was that what I think it was?"

  "Yeah, Captain. It was North's launch. They blew him. The Centrist Strength ship blew him." The nav officer looke
d up, dazed. "He's smoke, Captain. And so is the Centrist."

  Friedman whispered, "This Centrist Strength blew him to keep him from going to the Kyber?"

  The com crackled. "Terrible, terrible," said the Kyber captain, on a public channel. "This violence was totally unnecessary. We came here in the hope of preventing such tragedies."

  "No," Legroeder said, with sudden understanding. "The Centrist Strength ship was Kyber—they were all KM/C agents."

  "KM/C wanted North dead, so he wouldn't talk," said Deutsch. "They were just baiting him to get him up here. Right, Legroeder? And then they let Spacing Authority take care of his killers, so they wouldn't talk. They sacrificed their own agents to conceal the extent of their complicity. They're determined to look clean." Deutsch turned slowly to Legroeder. "My friend, I think you can lower that gun now. I don't think they'll take you by force."

  No one on the bridge spoke, as Legroeder stood nearly motionless, slowly shifting his eyes to Fre'geel. "Commander," he said softly. "Do I have your word on what you just told the Kyber captain?"

  Fre'geel was breathing raspily. But a hint of what could almost have been a human smile fluttered at his mouth. "You have my word," he said huskily. "And my... apology." He inclined his head forward.

  Legroeder sighed and lowered the weapon.

  "Thank you," the captain said.

  Legroeder nodded, gazing down at the gun, turning it slowly in his hand. Lifeless metal. But one squeeze of the trigger... He handed it back to Deutsch. It disappeared into Deutsch's metal side.

  "I trust you'll turn that weapon in later," Captain Friedman murmured, staring at the image in the screen, where the explosion and the debris had faded from visibility. The Kyber detachment had broken off its run and was now returning to the main Kyber fleet. Legroeder suddenly felt utterly drained. He wondered whose move it was now.

  Tiegs spoke. "Vigilant is warning Farhawk not to interfere with orbital operations, and Farhawk is warning everyone not to interfere with Impris."

  Captain Friedman pursed his lips. "Hell of a thing—bastards like that being our protection. But better them, I guess, than no one."