by B. V. Larson
“All right. Durris, send down the pinnace to the extraction point.”
“Am I to consider your previous order countermanded, sir?”
“No,” I said. “Not until I’m standing beside you on the command deck.”
“That’ll be cutting it pretty close, sir,” Morris said.
“Then we’d better get moving.”
The marines fired their weapons, knocking down two more Stroj as they charged toward us.
“Lorn,” croaked one from the floor on an open channel. “Your treachery will be known. You’ll die a thousand times with your pain receptors sewn into different bodies.”
Lorn gritted his teeth and looked at me. “Are you still a man of your word, Sparhawk?”
“I am—within reason.”
“Then get me off this rock with you. After that—don’t countermand your order to your ship. Pulverize this moon.”
I nodded slowly. I could see no loss for me in his proposal.
As we exited the rubble down a shallow culvert toward the crater’s edge, I noted that Lorn was still dragging the badly damaged corpse of the base commander with him.
“You can drop him now,” I said.
“Him? Never! He’s my trophy. I counted six bodies melded into his. Some of them are impressive kills. I intend to subsume them. I’ll be admired by every female on Earth.”
Shrugging, I decided not to tell him he was operating under a misconception concerning women on Earth. Everyone needed a goal to goad them into doing their best work, after all.
-45-
Half an hour later, I stood on Defiant’s command deck. The moon below us was a cauldron of released energies. Nuclear strikes had obliterated the base where we’d been fighting only minutes before.
“What did you do with Lorn?” Durris asked, looking me over in concern.
“I put him back in the brig. Surprisingly, he’s glad to be there now.”
“He’s requested surgical equipment,” Yamada said. “I asked if he wanted medical aid, and he refused it. What should I do, sir?”
I glanced at her. “Give him the equipment.”
She turned away, and Morris stepped closer. “He still has that corpse with him, doesn’t he?”
I nodded. “Yes. He’s got a good bit of work to do, and as the body will decompose in our pressurized ship, he probably wants to get to it right away.”
Morris gave a disgusted shudder. “Such an animal. We should space him.”
“We have a bargain to keep,” I reminded him, “and he might still be useful.”
“How so?”
I lifted the key and held it up between us. “Do you know how to use this thing to get an artificial bridge to form?”
“No,” he admitted. “But that freak might not know, either. He’s been full of shit at every turn.”
“Sort of, but not entirely. He made a bargain, and he kept it, despite several attempts to twist out of the deal.”
“He hasn’t got us home yet. We’re still trapped in this system. Everything he promised might be a big pack of lies.”
I had no answer for that charge as it was quite possibly true. Although Lorn frequently told the truth, it was invariably woven with as many or more lies. In fact, the true parts were completely optional in his mind. I’d gone out on a limb with him, but only because I hadn’t seen any other viable option.
“Durris,” I said, calling to my XO. He was now standing at his nav table again. His neck seemed a bit straighter than before.
“Captain?”
“Plot a course to circumnavigate the star. We’ll swing around in a wide loop and end up at the artificial breach point again.”
“Already plotted, sir,” he said. “I had quite a bit of time to come up with contingencies while you were down there on that moon base.”
“How long will we have at the breach to figure out the code-key?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No time, at all. The problem is one of relative velocities. If we slow down long enough to board that structure and look around, the enemy will catch up to us.”
Frowning, I turned away, then back again.
“How long until we arrive at the breach?”
“Less than a day.”
Walking briskly, I moved down several decks to the brig. There, I found Lorn in the midst of a horrifying procedure.
“Ah, there you are!” he said, smiling at me. He lifted the severed head of the moon base commander and shook it at me like a puppet. “This fellow has quite a tale to tell.”
“How’s that?” I asked. “He’s dead.”
“Dead? To you, maybe. But his exploits live on in the form of these symbolic emblems of flesh. Look here, you see his lips? Fuller than they should be, aren’t they? And his eyes are artificial—that’s a dead giveaway.”
“How so?”
“Isn’t it obvious? They’re from the Faustian Chain. Oh, yes—I forget how provincial you Basics are. You don’t even know one type of colonist from another.”
“We know the Betas and the Stroj well enough.”
He chuckled darkly. “I guess you must by now.”
I watched him work from a safe distance. Various offensive odors made my nose twitch, but I didn’t comment.
“What part of this person do you plan to pilfer?” I asked.
“That’s an insulting accusation. I’m not stealing anything. I claimed this kill, fair and square. If a man can’t keep hold on his life against an enemy—well, he’s not fit to live anyway. But to answer your question—I only need his left ear and one finger.”
He showed me the parts, lifting them for my inspection.
“Are these of special significance?”
“They are to me. The finger was mine, once, years ago. I want it back. The ear was part of the original man. He has many trophies grafted on, but I don’t want his hand-me-downs. I want my property back, plus part of him. None shall ever say again that I was bested by this loser.”
Suddenly, I grasped more of Lorn motivation. If he’d had a previous and personal feud going with the moon base commander, it made more sense that he’d go to such great lengths to acquire parts of him.
“What did you have against the man?” I asked. “I take it he wronged you in some way?”
“Yes, he did. He’s the reason I’m a pirate. You see, in order to advance as a commander, we Stroj engage in ritual combat. That doesn’t mean a fight to the death, but the victor is permitted a small trophy from the loser. We fought because we both wanted to command this system, to build this breach point and coordinate the invasion of all the local stars.”
“So, I take it he won the combat that decided which of you should get that job?”
“Exactly. He won nearly a decade ago, and he took my ring-finger as a trophy. I’ve always hated him for that.”
While he talked, he lifted the severed head and examined it closely. He treated it as if the dead man was able to hear us. With a sudden movement, he slashed away the ear and hurled the rest of the head away. It struck the back wall of the cell, fell to the floor with a horrid squelching sound and rolling to a stop. It left a ghastly stain where it had landed.
Lorn then removed his own ear and replaced it with the dead man’s appendage. The process didn’t seem to pain him, but it made me uncomfortable.
“There’s a problem Lorn,” I said. “We may not be able to escape the system.”
“A problem? Explain.”
“The code-key—can it be used remotely? We’re going to have to do a fly-by of the breach point. We can’t afford to slow down, or your dreadnought will catch up.”
“Ah, now I understand why you’re here,” he said. “Not to gloat or brag, but to beg for my aid yet again.”
“You won’t get to enjoy those trophies—no member of your race will ever know you got them, in fact—if you don’t help me find a solution.”
Lorn didn’t answer me right away. He was busy sawing at a finger now. It came off with a bit of work.
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“See here?” he said, holding the digit aloft. “The tendons were connected with wires. You can see that, can’t you?”
“I suppose.”
“That proves this digit was stolen from someone else. From me, in fact. That’s why I never replaced that finger. I wanted the original back. Because of you, Sparhawk, I’ve got it.”
“I’m glad you’re pleased. Back to our problem—”
“Your problem,” Lorn corrected me. “I’ve achieved my aims. I’m now prepared to die with dignity.”
Standing up swiftly, I turned to go. I could feel his eyes on my back as I headed for the exit.
“That’s it?” he called after me. “You’re giving up?”
Pausing, I glanced over my shoulder and shrugged. “The Stroj willingness for self-sacrifice is legendary.”
“That’s true of course, but—”
“I know that no amount of begging, threatening or cajoling will change your mind. Please feel free to commit suicide. That scalpel should make the task a trivial one. When you’re done, we’ll space the whole mess out of the cell block and figure our way out of this situation by ourselves.”
I took two more steps toward the exit. Lorn jumped to his feet and moved quickly to the bars. He rattled them in a sudden fury.
“Sparhawk!” he roared. “All right, you win! You called my bluff. We’ll work on this together.”
Just for my own personal enjoyment, I hesitated indecisively at the exit. Finally, I returned to the cell and stared at him.
“I have questions,” I said.
“I’ll answer them—within reason.”
“What were those Stroj bodies encapsulated in resin?”
“What? The invasion force? That’s what you want to know about?”
“I said as much.”
He shrugged. “Fully thawed, they’re grunts. Heavy shock troops. They don’t have much brain power, but they strike very hard when armed and directed toward an enemy. Their blood has been drained and edited for long term survival in suspension.”
“We saw evidence of thousands of them.”
“At least. Probably, I’d place the number in the low millions. A good portion of the crater was packed with them right under the upper layer of crust.”
For some reason, this thought pained me. They weren’t exactly alive, but they could have been brought back to life. Had I really killed a million enemy troops without realizing it? The thought was disturbing—but these details seemed not to bother Lorn at all.
“And how were these troops to be used?” I asked.
“As I said, they were here to invade neighboring worlds. The artificial bridges were to be created to provide access to neighboring star systems.”
“I see. Speaking of the artificial bridges, how do we use the code-key to change the destination of that device?”
He looked at me suspiciously. “I want assurances before I answer that. I want you to swear, right here and now, that if I give you that information you’ll release me and allow me to return to my people.”
“So you can gloat over slaying your rival?”
“Why else? What better flavor is there in life than the grieving of your enemy’s comrades?”
“What else indeed… All right. When we get out of this system, I’ll release you with the pinnace to escape.”
He moved closer to the bars and grasped them. I noticed that one of his fingers didn’t curl with the rest.
“You swear this? By Earth, Star Guard, and your family’s House?”
“I do so swear.”
He nodded and released a sigh of relief. Then he promptly returned to his work. He was soon engaged in sewing loops of thread into his reattached digit.
“I must say, Sparhawk,” he said conversationally, “I’m glad you’re a man of your word. I wouldn’t be able to deal with you like this if I wasn’t confident in your reliability.”
“Yes, yes,” I said impatiently. “Now, out with it. What do we have to do to get the code-key to work?”
“Why, nothing at all,” he said. “You simply fly through the breach. Every ship captain has one. They’re distributed on the basis of need. It will detect that key and direct you accordingly.”
Blinking in astonishment, I wasn’t sure if I should be angry or not.
“I see that I’ve been played,” I said.
“Not so. I procured the key for you, and now I’ve instructed you upon its proper use. Both these services are invaluable to you and your crew.”
He was right, of course, but I still found his trickery galling. He’d managed to bargain from a weak position, gaining his own freedom in the deal.
Sighing heavily, I told myself I should look at the deeper side of things. If this worked, I’d have saved my ship. What difference did it make that I could have done it more easily if I’d known the truth? The fact was that I hadn’t known the truth. As Lorn had pointed out, he’d done me an invaluable service.
Leaving him to his grisly chores, I left the brig.
Just as the hatch door sealed shut, I thought I heard a sonorous chuckle breaking out behind me.
-46-
Taking the Stroj at his word—because we really didn’t have any other choice—we flew toward the web-like structure. The only breach point in the system we could detect existed at the same point we’d arrived at.
“We’re just going to fly right into that thing?” Rumbold demanded yet again.
“Yes, exactly,” I said. “Slow down steadily, we don’t really know what we’ll find on the far side.”
“We’re not going to go back to the same place we came from when we entered this system?” he asked with growing alarm.
I quickly explained to him what Lorn had told me about the artificial bridges. That the gateway would transport us to wherever the code-key had been preprogrammed to send ships.
He chewed that over for a minute, then asked another question. “Will those guns fire on us again?”
“No. Not according to Lorn. But we’ll leave our shields up just in case.”
“Seems like we’re trusting that Stroj more than we should,” Rumbold muttered.
“Captain,” Zye said, spinning her chair around and joining the conversation. I got the feeling she’d been listening in and trying to stay quiet, but she’d finally lost her cool.
“I must protest again,” she said. “You can’t trust any Stroj to do something that isn’t in its best interest.”
“I agree,” I said. “But getting this ship destroyed and all aboard her killed won’t help Lorn.”
“You can’t know that,” she said. “Not with certainty. The Stroj are a very odd people. They don’t think in a fashion that would seem linear and logical to you and I. Death might be exactly what Lorn is seeking now.”
I had to admit that she had a point there. The trouble was, I was out of options.
“Are you suggesting we turn and face our pursuer?” I asked. “Do you think we can take on a dreadnought singlehandedly?”
“No… that would be suicide.”
“I agree. So, what would you do instead?”
She thought about this for a few seconds. I stared at her, and everyone else serving on the command deck joined me.
“We could deploy the pinnace,” she said. “We could send it through the breach with the code-key aboard. I’ll pilot the ship if you like. If I don’t return by the time Defiant circumnavigates the system again, we’ll know Lorn set up a trap somehow.”
I threw up my arms. “And what would we do if you never return? Or if you do returned and explain this is all a grand trick?”
“Then we’ll fight the dreadnought and die well.”
Nodding, I understood at last. Zye didn’t want her last act to be a futile one. I, on the other hand, was only interested in playing the best odds I could. I’d take any scheme that might save my ship and crew.
“I’d rather take my risks now, with you aboard Defiant,” I said. “We’re flying through the breach
in seventeen hours.”
Turning, I raised my voice and addressed the rest of the crew. “Get some rest everyone. We don’t know what we’ll find when we reach the far side.”
Taking my own advice, I’d made it halfway back to my cabin before I noticed I was being shadowed. Zye stalked after me like an angry panther, a dozen steps behind.
When I opened my cabin door, I waved her inside. She hesitated, but then accepted the invitation.
“Captain,” she said, “I don’t wish to make this personal between us, but I have reasons why I don’t want you to follow this plan.”
My eyebrows raised high. “So… I gather than you are making it personal?”
“Yes. It’s come to my attention that other women aboard this ship believe our relationship is abusive.”
“How so?” I asked.
“You’re my direct commander. Therefore, any sexual favors I provide for you aren’t entirely consensual on my part.”
“I’m taking advantage of you?!” I rolled my eyes.
“That facial gesture is also considered offensive to Earth women,” she informed me, pointing at my eyes.
Sighing, I took a seat behind my desk and leaned back in it. I pulled a bottle out of the bottom drawer and poured myself a double.
“Would you like to join me?” I asked her.
Her frown intensified. “There—that’s another example of abuse. You’ve plied me with drink to gain sexual access before.”
“Zye,” I said, “I know you’re upset, but I think our first sexual encounter was your idea, remember?”
“Hmm… that’s true,” she said quietly after thinking about it for a moment.
“Have you paused to consider that the women who’ve made these suggestions to you either don’t know what they’re talking about, or that they may have agendas of their own? Anyway, how does this affect my decision to pass through the breach?”
She looked at me with her arms crossed for a moment. Then, she relaxed.
“I’d like to have a beverage after all,” she said at last.
I poured her one, and she sat down. We sipped them together.
“I’ve come to a decision,” she said when she’d finished her drink.