Galactic Odyssey

by Keith Laumer

  The next day my legs started to go. I finished the last of my food and threw away the pack; I had a suspicion my suit heaters were about finished; I shivered all the time.

  Late that day I saw Eureka, far away, crossing a slight ripple in the flat ice. Maybe he was on the trail of something to eat. I wished him luck. I had a bad fall near sunset, and had a hard time crawling into the lee of a rock to sleep.

  The next day things got tough. I knew I was within a few miles of the beacon, but my suit instruments weren’t good enough to pinpoint it. Any direction was as good as another. I walked east, toward the dull glare of the sun behind low clouds. When I couldn’t walk anymore, I crawled. After a while I couldn’t crawl anymore. I heard a buzzing from my suit pack that meant the charge was almost exhausted. It didn’t seem important. I didn’t hurt anymore, wasn’t hungry or tired. It felt good, just floating where I was, in a warm, golden sea. Golden, the color of the Lady Raire’s skin when she lay under the hot sun of Gar 28, slim and tawny. . . . Lady Raire, a prisoner, waiting for me to come for her.

  I was on my feet, weaving, but upright. I picked out a rock ahead, and concentrated on reaching it. I made it and fell down and saw my own footprints there. That seemed funny. When I finished laughing, it was dark. I was cold now. I heard voices. . . .

  The voices were louder, and then there was light and a man was standing over me and Eureka was sitting on his haunches beside me, washing his face.

  Ommu and Ognath were all right; Lath had left the igloo and never came back; Choom was dead of gangrene. Of the four men I had sent back to the boat during the first few days, three reached it. All of the party at the boat survived. We later learned that our boat was the only one that got away from the ship. We never learned what it was we had collided with. I was back on my feet in a day or two. The men at the beacon station were glad to have an interruption in their routine; they gave us the best of everything the station had to offer. A couple of days later a ship arrived to take us off.

  At Ahax, I went before a board of inquiry and answered a lot of questions, most of which seemed to be designed to get me to confess that it had all been my fault. But in the end they gave me a clean bill and a trip bonus for my trouble.

  Assemblyman Ognath was waiting when I left the hearing room.

  “I understand the board dismissed you with a modest bonus and a hint that the less you said of the disaster the better,” he said.

  “That’s about it.”

  “Danger, I’ve always considered myself to be a man of character,” he told me. “At Cyoc, I was in error. I owe you something. What are your plans?”

  He gave me a sharp look when I told him. “I assume there’s a story behind that-but I won’t pry. . . . “

  “No secret, Mister Assemblyman.” I told him the story over dinner at an eating place that almost made up for thirty days on the ice. When I finished he shook his head.

  “Danger, do you have any idea how long it will take you to work your passage to as distant a world as Zeridajh?”

  “A long time.”

  “Longer than you’re likely to live, at the wages you’re earning.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Danger, as a politician I’m a practical man. I have no patience with romantic quests. However, you saved my life; I have a debt to discharge. I’m in a position to offer you the captaincy of your own vessel, to undertake a mission of considerable difficulty-but one which, if you’re successful, will pay you more than you could earn in twenty years below decks!”

  The details were explained to me that night at a meeting in a plush suite on the top floor of a building that must have been two hundred stories high. From the terrace where I was invited to take a chair with four well-tailored and manicured gentlemen, the city lights spread out for fifty miles. Assemblyman Ognath wasn’t there. One of the men did most of the talking while the other three listened.

  “The task we wish you to undertake,” he said in a husky whisper, “requires a man of sound judgment and intrepid character; a man without family ties or previous conflicting loyalties. I am assured you possess those qualities. The assignment also demands great determination, quick wits and high integrity. If you succeed, the rewards will be great. If you fail, you can expect a painful death, and we can do nothing to help you.”

  A silent-footed girl appeared with a tray of glasses. I took one and listened:

  “Ahacian commercial interests have suffered badly during recent decades from the peculiarly insidious competition of a nonhuman race known as the Rish. The pattern of their activities has been such as to give rise to the conviction that more than mere mercantile ambitions are at work. We have, however, been singularly unsuccessful in our efforts to place observers among them.”

  “In other words, your spies haven’t had any luck.”

  “None.”

  “What makes this time different?”

  “You will enter Rish-controlled space openly, attended by adequate public notice. Your movements as a lone Ahacian vessel in alien-controlled space will be followed with interest by the popular screen. The Rish can hardly maintain their pretence of cordiality if they offer you open interference. Your visit to the capital, Hi-iliat, will appear no more than a casual commercial visit.”

  “I don’t know anything about espionage,” I said. “What would I do when I got there-if I got there?”

  “Nothing. Your crew of four will consist of trained specialists.”

  “Why do you need me?”

  “Precisely because you are not a specialist. Your training has been other than academic. You have faced disaster in space, and survived. Perhaps you will survive among the Rish.”

  It sounded simple enough: I’d be gone a year; when I got back, a small fortune would be waiting for me. The amount they mentioned made my head swim. Ognath had been wrong; it wasn’t twenty years’ earnings; it was forty.

  “I’ll take it,” I said. “But I think you’re wasting your money.”

  “We pay you nothing unless you return,” the spokesman said. “In which case the outlay will not have been wasted.”

  The vessel they showed me in a maintenance dock at the port was a space-scarred five-thousand tonner, built twelve hundred years ago and used hard ever since. If the Rish had any agents snooping around her for hidden armor, multi-light communications gear, or superdrive auxiliaries, they didn’t find them; there weren’t any. Just the ancient stressed-field generators, standard navigation gear, a hold full of pre-coded computer tapes for light manufacturing operations. My crew of four were an unlikely-looking set of secret agents. Two were chinless lads with expressions of goggle-eyed innocence; one was a middle-aged man who gave the impression of having run away from a fat wife; and the last was a tall, big-handed, silent fellow with moist blue eyes. I spent two weeks absorbing cephalotapes designed to fill in the gaps in my education. We lifted off before dawn one morning, with no more fanfare than any other tramp streamer leaving harbor. I left Eureka behind with one of the tech girls from the training center. Maybe that was a clue to the confidence I had in the mission.

  For the first few weeks, I enjoyed captaining my own ship, even as ancient a scow as Jongo. My crew stared solemnly when I suited up and painted the letters on her prow myself; to them, the idea of anthropomorphizing an artifact with a pet name was pretty weird.

  We made our first planetfall without incident. I contact-ed the importers ashore, quoted prices, bought replacement cargo in accordance with instructions, while my four happy—go-lucky men saw the town. I didn’t ask them what they’d found out; as far as I was concerned, the less I knew about their activities the better.

  We went on, calling at small, unpopulous worlds, working our way deeper into the Bar, then angling toward Galactic South, swinging out into less densely populated space, where Center was a blazing arch in the screens. We touched down on Lon, Banoon, Ostrok and twenty other worlds, as alike as small towns in the midwestern United States. And then one day we arrived at a plan
et which looked no different than the rest of space, but was the target we’d been feeling our way toward for five months: The Rish capital, and the place where, if I made one tiny mistake, I’d leave my bones.

  The port of Hi-iliat was a booming, bustling center where great shining hulls from all the great worlds of the Bar, and even a few from Center itself, stood ranged on the miles-wide ramp system, as proud and aloof as carved Assyrian kings. We rode a rampcar in from the remote boondocks where we’d been parked by Traffic Control to a mile-wide rotunda constructed of high arched ribs of white concrete with translucent filigree-work between them. I was so busy staring up at it that I didn’t see the Rish official until one of my men prodded me. I turned and was looking at a leathery five-foot oyster all ready for a walk on the beach, spindly legs and all. He was making thin buzzes and clicks that seemed to come from a locket hanging on the front side of him. It dawned on me then that it was speaking a dialect I could understand:

  “All right, chaps, just in from out-system, eh? Mind stepping this way? A few formalities, won’t take a skwrth.”

  I didn’t know how long a skwrth was, but I followed him, and my four beauties followed me. He led us into a room that was like a high, narrow corridor, too brightly lit for comfort, already crowded with Men and Rish and three or four other varieties of life, none of which I had ever seen before. We sat on small stools as directed and put our hands into slots and had lights flashed in our eyes and sharp tones beeped at our ears. Whatever the test was, we must have passed, because our guide led us out into a ceilingless circular passage like a cattle run and addressed us:

  “Now, chaps, as guests of the Rish Hierarchy, you’re welcome to our great city and to our fair world. You’ll find hostelries catering to your metabolic requirements, and if at any time you are in need of assistance, you need merely repair to the nearest sanctuary station, marked by the white pole, and you will be helped. And I must also solemnly caution you: Any act unfriendly to the Rish Hierarchy will be dealt with instantly and with the full rigor of the law. I trust you’ll have a pleasant stay. Mind the step, now.” He pushed a hidden control and a panel slid back and he waved us through into the concourse.

  An hour later, after an ion-bath and a drink at the hotel bar, I set out to take a look at Hi-iliat. It was a beautiful town, full of blinding white pavement, sheer towers, tiled plazas with hundred-foot fountains, and schools and shoals of Rish, zooming along on tiny one-wheeled motorbikes. There were a few Men in sight, and an equal number of other aliens. The locals paid no attention to them, except to ping their bike-bells at them when they stepped out in front of them.

  I found a park where orange grass as soft as velvet grew under trees with polished silver trunks and golden yellow leaves. There were odd little butterfly-like birds there, and small leathery animals the size of squirrels. Beyond it was a lake, with pretty little buildings standing up on stilts above the water; I could hear twittery music coming from somewhere. I sat on a bench and watched the big, pale sun setting across the lake. It seemed that maybe the life of a spy wasn’t so bad after all. It was twilight when I started back to the hotel. I was halfway there when four Rish on green-painted scooters surrounded me. One of them was wearing a voice box.

  “Captain Billy Danger,” he said in a squeak like a bat. “You are under arrest for crimes against the peace and order of the Hierarch of Rish.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The prison they took me to was a brilliantly-lit rabbit warren of partitions, blind alleys, cubicles, passages, tiny rooms where inscrutable oyster-faces stared at me while carrying on inaudible conversations that made my eardrums itch. I asked questions, but got no answers. For all I know it was the same oyster I talked to each time; it might even have been the same office. I got very hungry and thirsty and sleepy, but nobody got out any rubber hoses. I could have done worse in any small town in Mississippi. After about an hour of these silent examinations, I wound up in a room the size of a phone booth with a Rishian wearing a talk box. He told me his name was Humekoy and that he was Chief of Physical Interrogation and Punishment. I got the impression the two duties were hard to tell apart.

  “You are in a most serious position,” he told me in his mechanically translated squeak. “The Rish Hierarchy has no mercy for strangers seeking to do evil. However, I am aware that you yourself have merely been used-possibly even without your knowledge-as an agency for transporting criminals. By cooperating with me fully, you may save yourself from the more unpleasant consequences of your actions. Accordingly, you will now give me full particulars of the activities of your associates.”

  “I want to see the Ahacian consul,” I said.

  “Don’t waste my time,” he shrilled. “What were the specific missions of the four agents who accompanied you here?”

  “If my crew are under arrest, I want to see them.”

  “You have an imperfect grasp of the situation, Captain Danger! It is I who make the demands!”

  “I’m afraid I can’t help you.”

  “Nonsense, I know you Men too well. Each of you would sell his own kind to save his person.”

  “Then why are you afraid to let me see the consul?”

  “Afraid?” He made a sound which was probably a laugh, but it lost something in translation. “Very well, then. I grant your plea.”

  They took me to a bigger room with softer light and left me, and a minute later an egg-bald man in dandified clothes came in, looking worried and mad.

  “I understand you demanded to see me,” he said and handed me a gadget and looped a similar one around his neck, with an attachment to the left ear and the Adam’s apple. I followed suit.

  “Look here, Danger,” his voice peeped in my ear. “There’s nothing I can do for you! You knew that when you came here. Insistence on seeing me serves merely to implicate Ahax.”

  “Who are you kidding?” I sub-vocalized. “They know all about the mission. Something leaked. That wasn’t part of the deal.”

  “That’s neither here nor there. Your duty now is to avoid any appearance that yours is an official mission.”

  “You think they’re dumb enough to believe I’m in the spy business for myself?”

  “See here, Danger, don’t meddle in affairs that are beyond your grasp! You were selected for this mission because of your total illiteracy in matters of policy.”

  “Let’s quit kidding,” I said. “Why do you think they let you see me?”

  “Let me? They practically kidnaped me!”

  “Sure; this is a test. They want to see what you’ll do. Species loyalty is a big thing with them-I learned that much studying tapes, back on Ahax. Every time they capture and execute a Man with no reaction from his home world, they get a little bolder.”

  “This is nonsense, a desperate bid for rescue-”

  “You made a mistake, seeing me, Mister Consul. You can’t pretend you don’t know me, now. Better get me out of this; if you don’t, I’ll spill the beans.”

  “What’s that?” He looked shocked. “What can you tell them? You know nothing of the actual-” He cut himself off.

  “I can tell them all about you, for a starter,” I told him.

  “Tell them what about me?”

  “That you’re the mastermind of the Ahacian espionage ring here on the Rish world,” I said. “And every-thing else I can think of. Some of it might even be true.”

  He got his back stiffened up and gave me the old ice-blue glare. “You’d play the treacher to the Ahacian Assembly, which trusted you?”

  “You bureaucrats have a curious confidence in the power of one-way loyalty. You’d sell me down the river just to maintain a polite diplomatic lie; and you expect me to go, singing glad hosannas.”

  He struggled some more, but I had him hooked in the eye. In the end he said he’d see what he could do and went away, mopping his forehead. The oysters hustled me into an elevator and took me down into what must have been a sub-sub-basement and made me crawl through a four-foot tunnel
into a dim-lit room with a strange, unpleasant smell. I was still sniffing and trying to remember what it was about the odor that made my scalp crawl when something moved in the deep gloom of the far corner and an armored, four-foot midget rose up on a set of thick legs and two oversized eyes stared at me from the middle of its chest.

  For the first five seconds I stood where I was, feeling the shock reaction slamming through my brain. Then, without any conscious decision on my part, I was diving for it. It tried to scuttle aside, but I landed on it, grabbed for what passed for its throat. Its body arced under me and the stubby legs beat against the floor, and it broke free and went for the exit tunnel, making a sound like water gurgling down a drain. I kicked it away from the opening and it curled up and rolled to a neutral corner and I stood over it, breathing hard and looking for a soft spot to attack.

  “Peace!” the word sounded grotesque coming from what looked like an oversized armadillo. “I yield, Master! Have mercy on poor Srat!” Then it made sounds that were exactly like an Australian bush baby-or a crying child.

  “That’s right,” I said, and my voice had a high, quavering note. I could feel the gooseflesh on my arms, just from being this close to the thing. “I’m not ready to kill you yet. First you’re going to tell me things!”

  “Yes, Master! Poor Srat will tell Master everything he knows! All, all!”

  “There was a ship-wasp-waisted, copper-colored, big. It answered our distress call. Bugs like you came out of it. They shot me up, but I guess they didn’t know much human anatomy. And they took the Lady Raire. Where did they take her? Where is she? What did they do to her?”