Mutiny on Outstation Zori

by John Hegenberger

  Within seconds, the compartment door slid open and Admiral Long entered, handmazer at the ready. Aura sat absolutely still out of sight behind the couch. To the Admiral's perspective, the floor-to ceiling display screen presented a series of three full, life-size images of Aura standing and turning, looking out, and gesturing at the center of the room. Aura prayed that the Imperial Officer would step closer, in an attempt to separate her captive from the group of three-dimensional copies.

  Wary of a trick, the Admiral used her wristcom to alert the security forces of Aura's apparent escape. Then, as if this action had relieved her of the necessity for caution, she lowered her weapon and paused in the center of the room. "All right," she drawled. "Cut the nonsense."

  Aura leapt at the Admiral's back, pressing the open palm of her right hand at the woman's bare neck.

  The tip of the "joybuzzer" bit flesh and attached itself to the neural pathways in the woman's spine. The Admiral dropped her weapon and fell to the deck in a state of sheer ecstasy.

  Aura ran out the door and down the passage, heading for her flitter and escape to the Dagger.

  * * *

  "This penchant you have for cheating has got to stop, sir," Zaxt said. "Don't you realize that profit acquired illegally is foul gains indeed?"

  "Profit acquired illegally," Kleg replied testily, "is the best profit there is." He rolled the dice again, making his point in more ways than one. "That puts me seven thousand deits up on you, Zaxty, old mech. I'm sure glad you diplobots have your own expense accounts."

  The silver bot with the golden hair fondled the multi-sided dice between his smooth palms. "Double or nothing says I can roll a natural two in one pass," he claimed.

  "Snake eyes?"

  "No, a natural two. One on each die. One and one is—"

  "I know how to add. But I don't think you know how to shoot dice." Besides, he thought, they're subtly loaded, and he don't know it. "Okay, Zaxt," he smiled toothily. "You've got yourself a bet. Double or nothing. But I gotta warn you, the odds are strongly in my favor."

  The chromed bot rattled the dice in his cupped mitts, dropping them carefully onto the deck. "My systems have detected a slight imbalance in the object's structure and composition," he drawled. "But I was able to apply a little pressure to overcome the flaw."

  The dice settled nicely on the carpeted surface of the Dagger's lounge, staring up at Karr like a pitiful child.

  "Ooo-kay," Kleg shrugged resignedly. "Looks like it's time I taught you how to play Fissbin."

  "I'm afraid that too much of my programming is currently concentrated on comprehending what might be happening to our comrades aboard Outstation Zori."

  Kleg stooped to look out the forward port at the huge rotating construct beyond. "If they're not back soon, we're getting the hell out of here."

  "Ah, but you can't do that, Mr. Karr."

  "That was the plan, remember?"

  "According to Imperial regulations, it's forbidden to deny assistance to stranded travelers."

  "They're not stranded, dammit. They're onboard one of the Imperium's own fortifications. I'd say that's about as safe as a person can be in this crazy universe."

  A red indicator flashed and beeped on the ship's command control. Two Qestans in their garish attire stared at it in awe and mumbled.

  "Okay, boys," Kleg said, moving in their direction. "What seems to be the problem now?"

  He studied a readout on the long-range scanner. An Imperial battlewagon was headed in their direction and closing.

  Karr's lower jaw loosened. He knew big trouble when he saw it. "Well, I'll be vaped."

  From behind him, Zaxt admitted, "That is a very distinct possibility, sir."

  * * *

  Aura turned left, remembering the path she had followed when arriving from drydock, and almost collided into two senior marines intent on double-timing it in answer to the alarm. She knew she only had moments to affect an escape, since the Admiral had alerted the security crew before being buzzed by Aura's hand weapon.

  Slipping around another corner, Aura inspected the handlaser she had taken from the fallen military officer and worried how she would use it, especially if she were caught again.

  The door to the drydock opened to her touch. Once inside, she resealed the dock hatchway and inspected the catapult that would launch the flitter. With great relief, she found that it was loaded and primed. Then, she entered the vessel, intending to initiate a command signal that would blow the outer hatch's explosive bolts, but she discovered that a status lock had been applied to the flitter's controls.

  Cold rage swelled up in her mind. If she was to escape Zori, she would have to find another vehicle. Perhaps, all was not lost; the radio might still be functional.

  Aura keyed a signal through the ship's com-link only to receive a piercing squeal. The pain was so sharp and strong that it made her eyes water. Through the forward port, she watched with regret as the room filled with armed sentinels.

  Admiral Long strode into the compartment, somewhat disheveled in appearance, shoving guards to each side, but fully in control of her rationality. She ordered Aura strip searched before being placed down in the brig.

  Aura accepted the situation with as much dignity as possible, stepping into a bland grey prison uniform, as stiff as her own expression.

  A communicator went breep! The Admiral was instructed to present her prisoner to the Messiah for direct questioning. The message did not set well with Admiral Long's intentions.

  "I'll finish with you later," she said, the pupils of her eyes wide with emotion. "If there is a later."

  "It's a date, sweetie," Aura called, as she was directed at mazer-point down a passageway.

  CHAPTER 7

  Kleg Karr spoke first. "We're getting out of here. I don't need any Imperial Starship coming down on me, for no good reason." He slapped a control pad that initiated the reactor drive.

  "No!" Zaxt's voice was tinged alarm. "We haven't completed our mission for Turner Werch."

  The muscles tightened in Karr's neck, arms, and back as he turned to face the diplobot. He disliked anyone telling him what to do, especially on his own ship. Especially a bot. "Look," he said, seeing his distorted reflection in the mech's shiny surface, "for all I care, you can get out right here and complete your damn mission. Those guys could start firing on each other at any time. I'm taking my ship where it won't get squeezed between two major factions of the Imperial Fleet."

  The bot moved to place itself between Karr and the Dagger's control console.

  Kleg felt enraged. "Get out of my way, you sack of servos." He raised a fist to strike at the bot's chestscreen—its most vulnerable spot—and found to his confusion that the idea suddenly seemed...absurd. To Kleg's dismay, he watched his fist un-clinch and settle back at his side.

  "I'm glad to see that you've changed your mind," Zaxt said.

  "I haven't changed my mind," Kleg blurted, conscious that his actions did little to support his or feelings.

  He still wanted to get the ship away. And he wanted to belt this upstart mech so badly he could taste it. Yet, a part of him felt that that be wrong. Kleg didn't know why it would; just that it would be better strategy to find a means to his end without using physical violence against Zaxt.

  Karr forced a smile, feeling a little disgusted in himself. "Okay, Zaxty, if that's the way you want it." He spread his palms in a gesture of relaxation. "I guess I can wait a little longer for Clamber and Devor to come back. What say you and I play some more poker?"

  The mech's face mirrored Kleg's smile. Zaxt took a hesitant step and Karr ducked around him, saying, "First chance I get, I'm selling you to the highest bidder."

  With smooth familiarity, the pilot punched a control button and lifted the safety cover from the red knob that controlled the propulsion system.

  "Don't do it," Zaxt warned, pulling at the back of Kleg's tunic.

  Karr shook himself free. "There's an Imps Starship coming toward us, the toughes
t force in the Core. I'm getting out of here, and you're not stopping me."

  He twisted the knob on the reactor drive with satisfaction and determination.

  The bot put its mitts to its face and sang out, "No!"

  But Kleg counted out the engine's reaction time, "One, two...

  * * *

  Cast Janssen and Jamie Clamber spoke in whispers as they moved down a passageway toward the cabin where Cast's scan had indicated Aura was being held.

  Jamie knew that their time was running out. The power unit in my stealth suit could fade at any minute.

  The station was still on the alert for suspected intruders. It didn't help matters that Cast seemed compelled to give their position away by explaining things in hushed tones while they crept along the corridors.

  "The Messiah nearly overthrew the Dia Khovaria in a grass-roots Asceticism revolt," Cast murmured, his voice floating from out of nowhere in front of Jamie. "Four hundred years ago, you understand? But only seventy years after the advent of the Imperium." The two men edged around a branch in the corridor, keeping track of one another by the directional signals installed in the cuffs of their suit's sleeve. "For sixty-one years, the Messiah had a powerful effect on public thought. Dozens of new religions were founded upon her teachings. Then she disappeared from FZ15 and was never seen again."

  "Disappeared? How?"

  "People said that the Imperial Court had sanctioned her kidnapping and murder, but the truth was that she was placed in coldsleep."

  "Suppose that I buy she's been frozen out here for four hundred years," Jamie whispered when he was sure they were alone in the passage. "I don't see how she could have taken over the entire station. This is a military outpost, not pleasure resort."

  "As you've probably heard, the Messiah has an extremely forceful personality." Cast led Jamie to the left at the next interchange. No one came in their direction; their luck still held. "The coldsleep physically preserved her in status, but her psychic strength grew, since her mind was free from the day-to-day distractions of normal living. The coldsleep affected her mental powers, gradually letting them build up over the decades, so that thought by thought, one by one, she was able to peacefully convert the members of the Imperial Deep Space force stationed out here on Zori."

  "Convert them," Jamie breathed. "You mean take over their minds? Turn them into thieves and make them steal a dozen ships?"

  They halted before the open door of the empty stateroom where Aura had been held prisoner.

  "She's gone." Confusion sounded in Cast's voice. "They must have moved her since we checked the computer file."

  The two men continued inside for a closer inspection. "Drop the field on your stealth suit," Jamie instructed, shutting his suit down. "It'll save energy."

  Cast's form materialized next to the compartment's com-link, which he activated. "I'll see if I can get an update on her position." Several screens of data flashed past. "Good. They're taking her to the Messiah."

  "Good?" Jamie yelped. "Who knows what your Messiah might do to her."

  "She won't be harmed."

  "How can you know that? She's a spy on a military installation taken over by a religious cult. Under those conditions who wouldn't be in danger?"

  "That isn't the Messiah's way," Cast replied. "When your friend first came aboard, she met no harm, right? As you can see, she was placed in one of the station's finest accommodations, only to be held for questioning, and that time has come."

  "Well, I don't like it," Jamie said. "What are our chances of finding her before this interview takes place?"

  "I'm telling you that your friend is perfectly safe. There's no reason for alarm." The Paethorn stepped forward, fingering the pendant hanging around his neck.

  Jamie wondered just how big the threat was. If what Cast had told him were true, the Messiah had somehow mentally taken control of several companies of Imperial troops. She had also affected Cast's mind, or else his odd accepting nature was the result of his dim-wittedness. Jamie couldn't question his old friend's injuries, but he could question his honesty.

  "Would it upset your religious tenets if I were to ask you to return my property?" He held out a hand.

  Cast hesitated only for a moment. Then he bowed his head smiling and removed the pendant. "Would you believe that I was saving it for you?"

  Clamber didn't believe for a second that Cast's strange religious tale was the whole truth, but he knew that something had taken control of the residents of station Zori, remolding them to a single-minded purpose that somehow involved the Esper Shadows.

  There had been no signs of an unknown alien intelligence controlling the crew; everyone here seemed healthy. But their collective attitude had changed from a military taskforce to a construction battalion dedicated to the refurbishment of the stolen ships. Cast seemed content to go along with the new purpose, acting as if he'd found a completeness in his life and a sense of accomplishment

  Kleg would say that there's money in this somewhere. I need to figure out who benefits from it.

  Jamie jammed the pendant into a pocket. "Turn your stealth suit back on. We're going to find Aura and maybe see your Messiah."

  They took a lift tube up to the control module. Cast directed them to the secured area next to the bridge where the Messiah held court. Passing through this command center, Jamie caught a glimpse of a white robed, bearded man seated in the deck officer's chair. Dozens of techtypes worked at datascreens monitoring various systems throughout Zori.

  One of the lift tubes at the opposite end of the hall slid open; armed military guards passed into a room on the far side of the bridge. In the midst of this troop, Jamie caught sight of Aura Devor's lavender hair. She wore a grey prison uniform and a look of glum resignation. Then the door shut behind the entourage.

  Cast's voice sounded in hushed tones near left ear. "It appears that the Messiah is occupied at the moment. And I have to get back to my work in the telescope before my absence is discovered. Will you join me there?"

  Jamie didn't know if he should try and find a way to get into that room and rescue Aura, or try and return to the Dagger with the small amount of info he'd picked up.

  "Listen, Cast," he whispered as they stepped back into a secluded corner of the bridge, "I need to get a signal back to—" He stopped, realizing he was giving too much away. "I need to get a signal sent out. Can you help with that?"

  "There's no way to communicate outside, Jamie. The Messiah has put the com-links under the highest security guard."

  Damn. Jamie struggled to decide what to do next. Sure, he'd found his friend and gotten back his personal possession. He'd even located the missing Esper Shadows, as Turner Werch had hired him to do. But the woman, his teammate, had been captured.

  The situation was a lot like how he felt when he played the HAVENset. He could bring himself to a point of assured success, but then his power seemed to drain, and he failed to press his advantage. Too bad he couldn't be as confident and faithful as Cast appeared. At least he could be certain of one thing: The assignment was not getting any easier.

  * * *

  ". . . three!"

  But The Silver Dagger didn't move.

  Kleg stood staring at the unchanging screen. Then he pounded both fists against the control console. "Let's go dammit. Why aren't we out of here?"

  "I tried to tell you," Zaxt answered. "But you wouldn't listen. The Qestans got in here last night and modified the internal operations comput—"

  Kleg spun around, clinching his hands before him. "The Qestans?" he screeched. "I'll vap every one of those snotfaced eyesores! I'll teach those little—"

  "No, no. We need them to run the ship."

  "I don't care! This is my ship and I'll kill the next one of them that sets foot in this cabin. Holy scum, now I've got to reprogram the entire ops computer, or we're a sitting duck out here."

  Zaxt looked around. "I don't feel like a sitting duck."

  "I DO!"

  The bot cringed a
nd raised an arm timidly. "I—I'll be glad to help, if you think it'll help...any."

  "Get under the console and start prying the boards out of the motherbrain."

  Zaxt stood unmoving, as if he were trying to accept contradictory programming.

  "What's the matter now?" Kleg clamored.

  The golden bot raised one palm. "I never pry."

  CHAPTER 8

  "The Serrantic Harbingers tell us to live a simple, austere, contemplative life," the Messiah said.

  "These clothes you've given me are about as simple and austere as you can get," Aura shot back. "And that goes double for your toy army. Who are you? I thought I was going to be taken to see the stations' Commander."

  The small room was crowded with Zori residents. Aura felt mildly claustrophobic, but it could have been the result of her situation, rather than the environment.

  The Messiah stood on a raised dais, like that used by the captain of a large ship to formally address the crew. This made the little woman positioned there seem tall and imposing. Small, frail, and with grey hair shot with streaks of coalsack black, the Messiah looked down from on high, her expression free of any lines of worry or concern. The skin on her face seemed almost translucent with age. Her thin hands rested together before her in the universal gesture of prayer. A grey robe, much lighter in color and texture than the prison uniform that Aura wore, hung from the woman's small shoulders.

  "I am the leader of these people." The Messiah's voice was a quiet declaration. "They are not my army; they are faithful followers."

  "Yeah, and I'm the Queen of Kishmer. What's happening here? I came to help you people and this is the thanks I get."

  "You must first come to terms with your fear and self-doubt," said the Messiah of Izar. "We know who and what you are, Aura Devor."

  Aura decided that the best tactic from this point on would be to do little or nothing. If they wanted more information, they would have to drug it out of her.

  A broad-shouldered, bearded man, dressed in similar grey robes, stepped up to the Messiah and whispered into her ear. The old woman raised a hand to gesture him away, and stepped down from the raised dais.