by T. R. Harris
I didn’t disappoint them.
Fourteen minutes after Bill’s arrival, a small starship zipped through the region, carrying with it the energy signature of a Noreen II. However, rather than rendezvousing with Bill’s ship, the tiny contact bolted right through towards the accretion disk a half light-year away. Within seconds of the small craft’s passing, the four silent predators activated their gravity generators and shot out after it.
I watched for a breathless moment to see if Bill would follow. Luckily, he didn’t. He wasn’t in the mood to go looking for trouble, not after having already expressed concern about the bad guys coming after him once he had the statue.
A moment later I initiated a very small gravity-well and moved in closer to Bill’s ship.
“What just happened?” Miranda asked. She was not only confused, but I could also tell she was pissed.
“You’ll see.”
That was not the answer she was looking for, and I tried my best to tune-out Miranda’s latest tirade as I slipped the Enterprise into the gaping cargo hold at the rear of Bill’s ship. I shook my head, thinking that this woman either had a real anger management problem, or else she really loved the sound of her own voice.
Once the cargo bay was sealed and pressurized, I opened the side door to the Enterprise and stepped out. Unfortunately, Miranda followed, still chattering after me.
Bill was on the deck waiting for us.
“I suppose that play was part of your plan, my Captain?”
“I figured they would have your line tapped, so I had to come up with something to draw the hounds away from the fox.”
“What?”
“Never mind; any chatter?”
“Oh yes, quite a lot. Apparently your pursuers have followed the other Noreen into an area of restricted space. There’s a lot of confusion going on now, as military vessels are chasing your hunters deeper into the forbidden zone, while the Noreen has joined up with one of the military vessels.”
“What other Noreen?”
Bill looked hard at Miranda as she stepped between the two of us to ask her question. I could tell he was somewhat angry at her; it was just a guess, but probably because she had started this whole mess in the first place. I did a little dance and worked my way back between the two of them before Bill had a chance to react.
It seemed like an explanation was in order.
“I had Quint ask for his own a test drive of a Noreen II, with instructions to blast right through our meeting place and into the restricted area.”
“But he could have been killed, blasted by one of those ships out there,” Miranda said.
“I don’t think so. He came through too fast for ships sitting in dark status to get an accurate shot. And as Bill now reports, he’s cozied up to the nearest battlecruiser, screaming bloody murder about the pirates chasing him.” I smiled, thinking that if the salesbeing with Quint was the same Zorphin who worked with me – Vol’ox was his name – he would have been pitching a fit as Quint steered them right into a place he knew to be a forbidden zone.
Bill had passed his anger stage with Miranda by now and was instead shuffling nervously on the metal deck. “Perhaps we should get this transfer underway, before anyone decides to come back.”
I had grabbed the container holding the Unity Statue on the way out of the Enterprise, and now I handed it over to the alien.
“Will you be staying aboard as we enter the system?” Bill asked.
“Seems like a safe way to get in undetected. And you’re right, we should get moving. Full speed ahead … Captain Billork!”
The green-skinned alien was too nervous to appreciate his promotion. Instead he literally hopped away with the case containing the Unity Stone, heading for the bridge.
**********
After watching Bill leave the cargo bay, Miranda turned to me with a fiery stare. “That’s it? He just takes the statue and we remain here, trapped on this ship, completely at his mercy, or the mercy of whoever wants to stop us?”
“Why do you ask so many questions? Can’t you just relax and let things play out?”
“Because it looks you’ve just given away the only bargaining chip we may have had. Your alien friend will just hand the statue back to its owners and then ask them to be nice to us.”
“It was your idea to call someone.”
“Yeah, but we should’ve got something in return before turning over the statue. What guarantees do we have that he can cut us a deal? And not only that, but I think I’d feel more secure out in space in your souped-up motorhome, rather than locked in this flying storage locker.”
“That last part I can’t argue with, but Mark and his people are still going to be looking for us, especially when they find out they’ve been chasing Quint and not us. Someone’s going to make a call, and with a Noreen’s unique gravity signature, they’ll have the hounds out once again. Staying aboard means no one will see us coming.”
“So why did you give him the statue? Why not just hitch a ride to Sylox and let us broker the deal ourselves?”
“Stop with all the questions, and just let Bill handle his part. He’ll have a lot more credibility with the authorities than would the Human who stole it. And you notice I used the singular Human and not the plural, as it should be. Now follow me. We need to get all the names, locations and any other details you can remember about this operation down on paper. If Bill is going to save us, he’s going to need something more than just the statue to bargain with.”
Chapter 29
It turned out Bill had commandeered an old merchantman which normally carried a crew of five. Because of the vast distances these vessels often traveled, the accommodations aboard were spacious, including a fully-equipped galley and mess hall. After grabbing some Human-compatible food from the processor, Miranda and I sat down at one of the long tables and I began to make entries in a datapad as Miranda talked.
She was able to place names to the thugs who had kidnapped me, as well as three others, including aliens who matched the description of Jonk Limbor’s race – short, round and smelly. Of course, that also described half the aliens in the galaxy, along with a considerable number of Humans, as well.
When she finished, I sat back and marveled at the simplicity of the plan. The fact that entire races of intelligent beings could be so easily manipulated into a war amazed me. Yet the Velosians and the Simoreans did wear their animosity for one another on their sleeves. All it would take was a spark to ignite a war, and that spark was the theft of the Unity Stone.
Yet the one annoying factor in this entire plan was its reliance on Miranda to turn the statue over to the aliens after the deed was done. If Mark Wilson was indeed the brains of the operation, then he understood women even less than I did. It was understandable for aliens to screw up in this arena, but not a Human male.
Fortunately, I didn’t have to dwell on this anomaly for long. Bill had steered his ship back to Sylox, and I could tell by the hum of the generators that he was decelerating into an establishing orbit prior to making the final landing approach.
I knew that simply returning the statue to Sylox didn’t solve all of my problems. In fact, the situation only got more complicated from here on out. Bill not only had to find the right people to receive the Stone, but he also had to find those who he could present his case for leniency to on behalf of me and Miranda. And he had to do all this without tipping off the bad guys.
It was obvious from the information Miranda had just provided that her part in the conspiracy was just the tip of the iceberg. Who knew how high this thing really went?
But to the right people – creatures – the information contained in the datapad would mean power, and allow for a fair amount of blackmail to be employed. Otherwise heads would roll and entire corporations could crumble. In fact, the more I thought about it, the information in the datapad probably held more real value than the damn statue itself.
“I better track down Bill before we land and give him the datapad.”
> I stood up from the table, but then I hesitated before walking away. I could see Miranda had turned pale, as she stared out across the room with vacant eyes and her shoulders slumped. She was coming to grips with reality.
We were now back at Sylox, where it was a very good chance she would be arrested for grand larceny and conspiracy. I was pretty sure at this point that I would be exonerated, but the best she could hope for was a reduced sentence. Even then, Miranda Moore was about to spend a good portion of her remaining years in an alien prison somewhere. She knew she was guilty as sin and deserved to pay the price, yet most people in her line of work refused to accept the fact that they could ever get caught. But they still do, most of the time.
That reality had just slapped Miranda hard across the face.
“Hang in there, Miranda,” was all I could say. “Even if you get some jail time, you’re still young.”
She looked up at me with desperate, moisture-filled eyes. “I’ve been in jail before, Jason, but this is different. I’ll probably end up in an alien prison. Do you have any idea what that could be like?”
“I can’t say I do.”
“Neither do I, but I can imagine.”
**********
“It isn’t pleasant … and some of your fellow prisoners may consider you food, rather than a cellmate.”
Both Miranda and I jerked our heads toward the source of the new voice in the room. The moment I saw him, I regretted that I’d left my .45 in the Enterprise.
It was Mark Wilson.
He stood in the doorway to the mess hall, smiling through his perfect teeth and immaculately-styled blond hair. He appeared to be alone, so I mentally calculated the distance between the two of us, knowing that with my training I could take him down in about three seconds flat.
I jumped – and was immediately jolted by what felt like a million sharp needles stabbing my body. I was flung backwards and landed hard on the metal deck, after tumbling over one of the stationary tables in the room. When my head cleared somewhat, I looked to see what had hit me. Mark Wilson was still standing in the doorway – alone – and with a smug grin on his face.
“Isn’t it amazing,” he said to me. “Alien technology at work; it’s a force field – or at least a force wall – out in front of me. As long as you attack from the front, I’m safe.” He took a few steps closer, smirking as he did so. “Did you really think I’d just walk in here defenseless against a trained killer like you?”
He moved further into the room until he was standing over me, glowering. “The thing you have to realize, Mr. Real Estate Agent to the Stars, is that I’ve always been one step ahead of you. I have from the start. Even before leaving Earth, your pitiful destiny had already been decided. There will be a war, and the Linoreans will take the fall for it, along with the two of you—”
All I saw was a flash of metal cross my vision, and then Mark Wilson dropped like a rock. The metal plate that had struck the side of his head clanged loudly on the metal deck as it spun and then came to a rest next to Wilson’s unconscious body.
I looked over to where Miranda now stood next to a stack of metal plates, with another one cocked and ready to go in case her first throw had been off the mark.
“Too much beach Frisbee as a kid, I guess,” she said with a smile. And then the smile vanished. “Asshole,” she said addressing Mark’s inert body. “He shouldn’t have told us how to beat his force field.”
I staggered to my feet, having trouble gaining control of my limbs as the excess electricity still coursed throughout my body. I must have been a sight to see as I jerked, stumbled and limped my way over to Miranda.
“Glob shhot, Muran-da,” I managed to spit out – literally – as a copious amount saliva drooled from my near-useless lips. “Blee carful, buf checc em.”
Fortunately, Miranda spoke basic gibberish, and so she cautiously approached the prostrate Mark Wilson. Now that we knew what to look for, we could detect the slight shimmering of the force field, now tilted away for Wilson’s body at a forty-five degree angle. Taking extra care not to come in contact with any part of the field, Miranda reached him and quickly rifled through his pockets, finding an MK-17 flash weapon along with a small silver control box. The lights on the display panel were still lit, but when Miranda pressed the one large button at the bottom, all the lights went out.
“Either I just turned off his force field, or I opened his garage door. I don’t know which.”
I tried to laugh, but all I did instead was spray my arms with more spittle.
Miranda returned and went to hand Wilson’s MK to me. But then she had second thoughts. “I think it’s better if I keep this for the time being.”
My nod looked more like I was having an epileptic seizure rather than a sign of agreement.
Miranda found some cord that was used to tie cushions to the hard metal dining seats and used it to secure Wilson’s hands behind his back and bind his feet. She then dragged his body over to the nearest wall and propped him up. His still-bleeding head hung limply against this chest. I could tell by the free flow of blood from the wound at his temple that Mark Wilson was still alive. Good. He had a lot to answer for.
I now cursed my useless body, as I wondered how many more of his henchmen were aboard. I was completely out of action, and it was a sure bet that Wilson wasn’t the only bad guy onboard. He wasn’t that cocky – or stupid – was he, even with a force field?
And what was Bill’s involvement with him? If I could ever talk coherently again, I would be sure to ask him.
**********
Miranda made me comfortable in one of the padded lounge chairs near what looked to be a game console in the mess hall, before she took up a defensive position near the door, MK-17 firmly in hand.
As the minutes passed, I could feel more sensation returning to my body, at least enough that I wasn’t slobbering all over myself anymore. This was embarrassing, after all, I believe in hiring the handicapped, but this was ridiculous. Mark Wilson had been right. He did have a very effective defensive weapon – when you weren’t being t-boned by a flying plate thrown by a desperate woman with nothing to lose.
I noticed Miranda become suddenly tense, and a second later Billork walked through the door with his customary bouncy gait. Even though he stood almost seven feet tall, he was still no match for the strength of your typical Human, and especially when an MK flash weapon was shoved up under your chin.
“Get over there, hurry,” she commanded, directing Bill to where I sat/trembled in the chair.
“What are you doing, Miss Miranda—”
And then Bill noticed me, which distracted him completely from the weapon now aimed at his head. “What is wrong with him? Is he having some form of an allergic reaction?”
“No, that’s thanks to your friend over there.”
Billork scanned the room until he saw Mark Wilson slumped against the wall.
“What have you done? Is he dead?”
“You don’t tie up dead people, stupid. But I’m out of rope, so don’t give me an excuse to shoot you.”
Again I cursed my twitching body; I wish I had said that!
Instead I managed to mutter, “Ho bity ore o is pleebol ur obod?”
“He only came aboard with two others,” Bill answered immediately, turning to me.
“You understood him?” asked Miranda.
“Perfectly; much better than normal, as facts would have it. Why?”
Miranda just shook her head
But then Bill looked again at the weapon pointed at him. “You don’t have to do this; I am not your enemy. My home and office had been monitored, so they knew when Jason linked to me. I was given no other option other than to bring them.”
“Uber er da achu?”
“It is still in the container you gave me, my Captain. Mon Wilson has left it entrusted with the others. I believe they are at this moment efforting to force open the lock.”
I managed to roll over … and promptly fell out o
f the chair. Miranda offered me a hand, all the while keeping the MK aimed at Bill.
“Usser banit uh dat,” I babbled, causing a deep frown to cross Miranda’s forehead.
“He said you don’t have to do that,” Bill translated. “I believe he is referring to you keeping me under guard.”
“Unfortunately, Jason is in no condition to make rational decisions. I think I prefer caution over trust.”
I managed to stand on my own, yet still with a tremendous amount of tremors. I was beginning to seriously wonder if the effects would be permanent. And with that thought, I would have smiled – if I could have – thinking that I could now avoid pound-em-in-the-butt-prison by being placed in a mental hospital instead, if it came down to that. I certainly fit the bill in my current condition.
Unfortunately, I began to feel a lessening in the tingling sensation, and was able to close my mouth and flex my hands. So, it looks like big-boy prison after all.
“It deems to be passin.” I said. I began to massage my arms and my neck, and then I reached down – carefully – and massaged my thighs. “Almost there. I’ll take the MK now, Miranda.”
The girl stepped back from both me and Bill. “I don’t think so, Jason. I think I’d feel more comfortable holding onto it for a while longer. But now that you’re back among the living, what are we going to do? Bill has been compromised, so who’s going to negotiate for us, even if we can get the statue back?”
“First off all, let’s get to the Enterprise, and bring Wilson along with us. You, too, Bill. We have to get off this ship before Mark’s people crack the safe.”
“But they have the statue—”
Miranda stopped mid-sentence when she saw my sly grin, or at least what I tried to convey as a sly grin. My face was still so palsied that I wasn’t sure what expression I was making.
“You bastard – you still have it!”
Bill jerked his head in my direction, glaring at me in anger like I’d never seen from him before. “Is that true?”
“I know where it is. And you were right, Miranda, I wasn’t about to just hand over our only bargaining chip until I knew if Bill was alone, and only if we got back to Sylox safe.”