by GARY DARBY
With a tremendous heave, Jadar and Shar pulled Dason inside the compartment along with the devil dog whose ferocious jaws hadn’t let go of Dason’s leg.
Jy’s swift blow with a thin, metal cylinder landed with a loud crack on the dog’s skull and with a yelp, the thing let Dason go and sprang sideways to lie still on the floor.
Jadar grabbed at a buckled metal panel that had been shorn partway off the bulkhead. His furious yanking caused the board to snap off the wall.
Holding the pane as a shield in front of him, he charged the opening and slammed the thin metal plate into several wolf heads that were snapping their ferocious fangs at Jy.
Dason rolled to his feet and jumped into the fray by slamming his shoulder into the rectangular sheet. The sudden blow sent the hounds sprawling into the frenzied pack. Helping his uncle hold the metallic panel in place, Dason gasped out, “What about the other door?”
“Sealed shut,” Jadar grunted.
Several dogs lunged at the opening, very nearly knocking Dason and Jadar off their feet. Their grinding teeth came within centimeters of Dason’s face, and he could smell blood on the dog’s breath.
Jy’s furious assault with his metallic rod on the beasts drove them back where they slunk in tight circles just a few meters away from the opening. Jadar called over his shoulder, “Shar! Any progress?”
“A little,” Shar answered, “I’ve got the lights and horn to work, working on the rain dissipators now.”
“Oh, that’s good,” Jadar yelled back. “Never know when you’ll run into rain in deep space.”
Dason glanced at Jadar with raised eyebrows and said, “Maybe you should go help him?”
“Trust me,” Jadar grunted, “he’ll figure it out.”
Dason peered over the panel at where the dogs milled around, low growls coming through bared teeth and red eyes that centered on the opening. “Do you see anything that we could use as a weapon?”
“Didn’t have much chance to look,” Jadar replied. He glanced around and said, “Can you two hold for a minute while I go see what I can find?”
Dason and Jy gave quick nods of assent. After Jadar padded off, Jy said to Dason, “Say, I never did get to ask, did everyone pass the no-notice?”
Dason shook his head in disbelief at Jy’s question. “You’re asking about the no-notice now?”
“Sure,” Jy replied as if that answered everything.
“Well, yes,” Dason said and ran a tongue over dry lips. “And we all accepted Star Scout enlistments.” He gave Jy a thin smile. “Even Sami.”
“Great,” Jy replied. “We need good people like Sami in the scouts, makes things a lot more lively.”
Dason nodded his head toward the dogs. “And you think this isn’t lively enough?”
The canine’s growling grew in volume, and Dason said, “Uh, oh, here they come again.”
A rolling tide of black bodies crashed against the opening, driving Dason back. He struggled to hold the square in place against the snarling, yapping beasts.
Stumbling over some unseen object, Dason lost his footing, but before he went down, Jy reached out at the last second and yanked him up.
“I can’t hold them,” Dason gasped out.
Jy stopped swinging his hard rod at the beasts, and put his shoulder against the lengthwise panel. Several more dogs hit the metal sheet as if they were canine battering rams, almost bowling over the two scouts.
Jy yelled over his shoulder, “They’re about to break through!”
Suddenly, loud canine shrieks of pain along with the sounds of bodies slamming against the side bulkheads came from the corridor. The pressure on the panel stopped as the pack retreated from the onslaught.
Dason poked his head over the metal plug. His lips parted in a broad smile. He pulled Jy up and both scouts stared wide-eyed at the scene as Jy yelled, “Give’em one for me, Dani!”
Jadar came running up, took one look and said, “What is that?!”
“The cavalry,” Dason said with a broad smile.
“That’s the cavalry?” Jadar asked his eyes wide in disbelief.
“Yeah,” Dason replied, his grin growing even wider. “Ain’t it great?”
Chapter Nine
Star date: 2443.096
Geneva, Switzerland, Seat of the Imperium
Pacing the small detention cell, Rosberg clenched his hands tight at his side, eyes riveted on the black surface under his feet. Eight steps toward the lethal sonic-bars, turn, eight steps back to the dark, featureless wall.
To cage Rosberg was if someone confined a Canabian Taurus-Lion; both born to freedom; both would rather die than be imprisoned.
Once trapped, a Taurus-Lion will pace for a few hours and then attack its cell in an unending rage. Its rampage against its captivity will not stop until it’s either freed or its great heart bursts from the effort, an ultimate freedom of the spirit, if not the body.
Across the narrow corridor, Tarracas rose from his meditative pose and stood at the bars that sealed off his cell.
A tiny undercurrent of sound, like a low humming, was the only warning that if touched, the powerful sonic beams running through the practically invisible filaments would kill in an instant.
Rosberg glanced up to see Tarracas standing and watching. He raised a hand and rumbled, “Sorry, Scoutmaster, I can’t help it. I’ve never been able to sit and do nothing. Drives me crazy.”
He took a deep breath and tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling. “I sure got us into a jam, didn’t I? ‘Bout now I suspect that you wish you hadn’t accepted my invitation to walk another trail.”
Tarracas pursed his lips together and then said, “Activity breeds activity. We have been active men our whole lives. To be bound like this goes against our very nature.”
He glanced around his cell with a contemplative air. “And even if I had known that we would end up here, I would have still accepted the call. Besides, this trail isn’t over yet. I suspect that even now, we have barely begun seeing what lies down this particular path.”
Rosberg grunted and ran a hand through his hair. “Scoutmaster,” he asked, “what has happened?
“I admit it, I’m at a total loss. I knew when we came back that the High Council would come down hard on me, perhaps even relieve me of my command, and ask for my resignation. That I expected and I was willing to accept the consequences.”
He waved his hands in frustration and anger at the bars and cell. “But this, this goes beyond anything I could ever have imagined.”
His voice was a growl. “To jam an L-gun in my stomach and arrest me! And you!”
He shook his head in disbelief. “I don’t know those people on the council anymore. They’ve changed and become something I don’t recognize at all.
“There’s a malevolence in that room, something that’s draining the very essence of good and right thinking from the whole group.”
Hanging his head, the general said in a low, husky voice, “In all honesty, I’m not sure how to fight it, or if we can fight it at this juncture.”
Tarracas was silent for a long time until he said, “When I was a small boy, there was a waist-high earthen mound near our home. I played this game where I would race up one side and launch myself off the top; made me feel for a second as if I was flying in the air.
“One morning I ran as fast as I could from my house straight toward that little rise with the idea that I was going to jump as far as I could.
“However, just before I reached the knoll’s little crown, I suddenly stopped. I don’t know why, except I knew that I shouldn’t jump.
“I took the remaining two or three steps to the top and heard a loud rattling sound. There, in the trail below was a huge rattlesnake, coiled and ready to strike.
“I turned and dashed back to my house to tell my papa about the snake. Together, we went back, but we didn’t find the rattlesnake. It was gone.”
Tarracas brought his fingers up to rub thoughtfully at his chin. �
��If I had jumped from the mound’s top, I would have landed right on that viper. It would have bitten me several times. For a small boy, I’m quite certain the bites would have been fatal.
“What caused me to not jump? I couldn’t see the snake and wouldn’t have seen the serpent until it was too late. I didn't hear its rattles.
“That morning started out no different from any other. I had leaped from that little mound a thousand times before, not once even thinking about stopping.
“So, what was it that made me stop running and instead walk to the mound’s top and discover the deadly serpent?”
The general looked at Tarracas with an expectant expression, waiting for the answer.
Tarracas took in a breath and said, “I believe that there are times in our lives, call it instinct, call it self-preservation, call it divine intervention, call it what you want—when we are warned of danger.
“A few of us are quite good at listening and acting on the warning, most of us usually ignore it and then pay the consequences, whatever those may be.
“The High Council has been warned, but they aren’t listening. Instead, they’ve raced to the top of that mound and launched themselves off. Sometime in the very near future they’re going to land with both feet on—”
“A poisonous snake?” came a sharp, sneering laugh from the corridor’s darkness.
“Oh, come now, Scoutmaster,” the leering voice continued, “are you suggesting that the influential and smart people who sit on the High Council would knowingly jump onto a venomous viper?”
The voice from the shadows laughed again and a dark figure stepped into the light.
“Adiak Peller,” Rosberg breathed.
“Good morning, general,” Peller said in a silky, soft voice. “Or do you even know that it’s morning down here? I would think you would lose all sense of time in such a barren and gloomy place.”
Rosberg crossed his arms in front of him and glowered at the man. “What is it you want, Peller?”
“Councilor Peller!” Peller snapped.
He drew in a breath, waited until he calmed down before speaking. “You should show a little respect, you know. Especially to someone who’s come to help you, or rather, to offer help.”
Rosberg glanced over at Tarracas’s passive expression. He gave a tiny nod, indicating he was willing to listen.
“All right, Councilor Peller,” Rosberg answered curtly. “We’re listening. What’s on your mind?”
“Oh, there’s a lot on my mind these days, I assure you,” Peller responded. “But regarding you two, there’s only a few things.
“In fact, three items specifically: Deklon Marrel, his brother Jadar, and his son, Dason Thorne.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Rosberg saw Scoutmaster Tarracas go from a relaxed position into a stiff posture. Peller’s comment had struck a nerve with Tarracas.
He brought his gaze back to the Faction master. “Peller—” he began when Peller whipped up a finger and scowled at Rosberg.
Rosberg worked his mouth before replying in a tight voice, “I mean, Councilor Peller. You’ve lost me. Deklon Marrel has been on the ‘missing, presumed dead’ list for almost two decades. What does a missing scout mean to you?”
“That’s just the point, general, he’s not missing,” Peller replied.
Rosberg’s arms dropped to his side, and he took a small step forward, coming dangerously close to the deadly filaments. “What do you mean? Do you know something about his disappearance?”
“Oh, I know a great deal,” Peller declared and leered again.
“For example, I know that he stole a large quantity of Kolomite ore on Veni, which, by the way, belonged to me.
“I also know that he staged his ‘disappearance’ so that it appeared he was lost on a Star Scout mission but in reality, he made off with my Kolomite. And now, I want him and my ore returned.”
Staring at Peller in disbelief, Rosberg shook his head, unable to speak, his mind trying to digest the absurdity of Peller’s claim.
He swallowed and his voice came out as a hoarse croak, “You are certifiably mad—insane if you believe that any part of what you just said is right.”
Peller’s countenance darkened, the lines in his face became taut, and his breathing seemed to fill the air. He whirled, his silvery robe swirling around him as he stomped away.
After a few steps, he stopped and turned back toward Rosberg. He strode forward, his boot heels making a hard, sharp rap on the floor with each step.
“You think I’m insane? Well, try this one on for mental instability. You’re hiding Jadar Marrel and Dason Thorne. How do I know? Because neither returned with you from your visit with the Sha’anay, and they are not listed on the recall manifests.
“That means they’re in interstellar space and you know where they are. So, here’s the deal, my good general. I want Jadar Marrel and Dason Thorne.
“Oh, I know what I said the other day about Colonel Tuul, but that was just to keep the council sniffing down the wrong rabbit hole. I couldn’t care less about Tuul the Fool.”
Rosberg shook his head in response and questioned, “Why do you need Jadar Marrel and Dason Thorne? They haven’t got anything that’s of any worth to you.”
Peller took several quick steps to place himself in front of Rosberg. His voice was low and guttural, like a wolf’s that has backed its prey into a corner and is about to spring upon its victim.
“No worth to me? They know the location of Deklon Marrel, and they know where he hid my Kolomite. No, my dear general, they are of great worth to me and I—will—have them.”
He took a deep breath to steady himself and then in a calmer voice said, “I’ve let you two stew down here so that you’ll know that I mean business.
“Nevertheless, just in case you haven’t gotten the message of how serious I am, let me explain what’s going to happen if you don’t bring Marrel and Thorne to me.
“I’ll pay a little visit to Tor’al. In my deepest, most apologetic manner, I’ll explain how you have refused to hand over those who tried to murder him.
“In fact, I’m going to tell him that we’ve found out that you’re hiding them, shielding them from the justice that he deserves.
“Then, I’m going to explain that you did not recall all of the Star Scouts, that we’ve found out that you’re secretly sending teams of scouts to attack the Sha’anay, just like you tried to ambush him.
“And last, I’m going to give him the exact stellar coordinates of the scout recall sites. Why? Because that will make it a very easy proposition for the Sha’anay to conduct a preemptive strike on those bases.”
Peller lifted up his mouth in a leer and said, “I can see by your expression that you didn’t realize that we were placing your scouts in certain selected spots. And yes, I personally picked those unique locales.
“Let’s see if you can guess why they’re so special. I’ll name a few to help you out; New Paris, Sarpens Two, and Brisdale’s Planet.”
If Rosberg didn’t know that if he moved even a few centimeters and touched the lethal sonic beams, he would’ve reached out and wrapped his hands around the monster’s throat to squeeze the life from him.
Instead, he was forced to hold his place, his face frozen as if sculpted in ice. His voice was a bare whisper, “They’re all in the demilitarized zone between the Combine and the Sadocs.”
“Very good,” Peller replied in a syrupy tone.
“And that means no planetary defenses, no in-system fleet, and no Imperium military forces within a hundred light-years.
“And yes, the other sites are all in the zone, too, which means that when the Sha’anay come swooping in, your scouts will stand about as much chance of surviving their attack as you would of getting a sunburn on Pluto.”
Peller turned and took a few steps toward Tarracas. “My sources tell me that within forty-eight hours, all scouts will have been recalled and situated at those bases. The only exception will be a few very
carefully selected members of your staff remaining at Cheyenne Mountain.”
Smiling, he said over his shoulder to Rosberg, “Selected, I might add, by me and yes, loyal to me as well.”
He whirled on Rosberg. “So, Rosberg, I’ll give you some more time down here to think about it. Either tell me where to find Jadar Marrel and Dason Thorne or . . .”
Peller moved to where he stood mere centimeters from Rosberg. “There won’t be a Star Scout left for you to command. Consider that as you stew down here.”
His hard unblinking eyes met Rosberg’s. He turned, started to walk away, and then stopped. He pivoted to face Rosberg. “Tell me what I want to know, and I promise that you and the Scoutmaster will live out the rest of your lives in peace.”
Jabbing a finger at Rosberg, he rasped out, “But know this, I’m not a patient man. So instead of telling each other stories, you might want to come to terms with the fact that unless you cooperate, there won’t be any more trails for your beloved scouts to walk.
“Ever.”
He whirled away, his robes swishing in the room’s stillness. In seconds, the hallway’s gloom had swallowed him up as if he were some night wraith who disappeared into the shadows. The slight whoosh from the door sliding open and then closing marked his leaving.
Rosberg shook his head at his nearby companion. “Scoutmaster, I feel as though I’ve been jettisoned into deep space without a rocket booster to my name; just drifting helplessly.”
Rosberg ran a hand through his hair as he tried to sort through a whirl of thoughts. “I could use a little advice here. What do you think?”
Tarracas remained silent for several moments, staring at the floor, considering his own thoughts and feelings.
“General,” he mused, “I fear that no matter what we do, as for us, we won’t be spending the rest of our lives living in peace, but rather, we will be resting in peace.”
Chapter Ten
Star date: 2443.096
Aboard the INS IntrepidX
Head bent over; Teng Rhee peered intently at the sensor screen, his expression grave, his eyes focused on the imagery. There wasn’t much to see since very few terrain features showed on the dim orb’s surface. “What is it? A rogue planet?”