My Other Car is a Spaceship

by Mark Terence Chapman

  “And what if you don’t surprise them? What if they have a dozen guards hidden around the hangar, just waiting for a frontal assault? You’ll be cut to pieces. Then how will you get back to your family?”

  Vanderwaal’s jaw worked in anger, thin lips pressed together. “Screw you, Jeffries! Come on people, let’s go.”

  He turned toward the stash of weapons in the back of the chamber. Kalen went to grab Vanderwaal’s arm but the latter turned and thrust a blaster up beneath Kalen’s chin. “Don’t.”

  Kalen sighed and stepped back. “Fine. It’s your funeral.”

  Vanderwaal replied over his shoulder as he and the others stuffed weapons into three sacks. “I’d rather die trying to reach my family than fighting for some abstract ideal.”

  Kalen had no response to that. The conceptual chasm between them was too great to bridge.

  After a couple of minutes of silence, broken only by the clinks and clatter of weapons and gas masks being stuffed in sacks and the heavy breathing of agitated people, six of the group left for parts unknown.

  Kalen closed his eyes for a moment. Our odds of success just got cut in half—or lower.

  Off to one side, Merry’s sobs were only partially muffled by Sue’s gown.

  A rumble trembled through Ishtawahl’s boots. He called MekFensal. “What was that?”

  “Just a second, sir,” the security Chief replied as he received a call. “It was a bomb. Apparently one of the prisoners tossed a backpack or something down the corridor toward a checkpoint. It blew before the guards had a chance to do anything but dive to the floor. Three died; only one survived.”

  “May Brist eat their entrails! Where was it? My team is heading there now.”

  Damn those prisoners!

  Hal took a cab from the spaceport to Unity headquarters. At the entrance to the complex, two workers were taking down the Merchants’ Unity sign.

  Shit.

  Hal had been hoping the rumors of the Unity’s demise had been greatly exaggerated. Now it appeared they hadn’t. He entered the lobby of the central building. The grandeur of the vaulted atrium—the soaring glass walls, the marble and onyx floor, the rich wood paneling brought in from dozens of star systems—was muted by the clear spaces left on the dusty floor, obvious signs of display cases and statuary that had recently been removed.

  Hal hadn’t spent much time in the building, only for the occasional meeting or awards ceremony, but he recognized this building as representing the Merchants’ Unity. This was where the big decisions were made, where the successes and failures originated. This was where the figurative brain of the Unity reposed. Without a brain, an organism died—as, clearly, the Unity had died.

  Hal walked up to a reception desk that had once accommodated eight people. Now, there was but one bored-looking security guard, a man reading a news journal.

  “I need to speak with whoever’s in charge,” Hal announced.

  “That would be Mr. Mynax. Do you have an appointment?”

  “No, I just arrived on-planet. But it’s an emergency, a matter of life and death.”

  “Yeah, sure it is. Look buddy, there are no more emergencies. The Unity is dead. Mr. Mynax is merely disposing of the body.”

  “Very clever. Did it take you all day to think that one up?”

  The guard bristled. “Now, look—”

  “No, you look! I have a way to possibly stop the pirates. But I have to talk to Mr. Mynax. You can either let me talk to him, or when I finally do—and I promise you I will—I’ll make sure he knows you kept me from speaking with him, perhaps at the cost of many lives that could have been saved.”

  “Fine. Whatever. I don’t imagine he’s all that busy, anyway. He’s on the top floor.”

  The guard buzzed Hal through the transparent armored door separating him from the bank of lift tubes.

  Hal thanked him and walked to the nearest tube. “Seventy-third floor, please.” He knew it was silly to thank a machine, but he couldn’t help himself. Old habits were hard to shake.

  The tube door opened and Hal found himself in the vestibule of the executive suite of offices, where the senior officials of the Unity had presided over the organization. Once, it bustled with activity, people scurrying about handling important business. Now nothing stirred, no one remained, nothing got accomplished.

  Hal stood still for a moment, wondering where to go. Corridors stretched ahead, left and right, with others crossing along the way. Where was Mynax in all that?

  Hal listened closely and after a few seconds he heard a faint rustling. Heading toward the sound, he kept listening until he heard a metallic click. He continued to follow the sounds, until at last, in the far corner of the building, he saw movement. A man sat behind a desk in a large and ornate office. Hal approached.

  The man looked up and saw Hal. “Who the devil are you? How did you get in here?”

  “Mr. Mynax, my name is Hal Nellis. I’m a Unity pilot. We have to talk.”

  “Well, what did he say?” Sue asked. The five adults and Merry sat in a dimly lit chamber. “Did he agree?”

  Kalen nodded. “It took some persuading, but he came around. I think once he cooled off, he realized that attacking the hangar with only six people is suicide. I tried to talk him out of it again, but he wouldn’t budge. When I suggested that we coordinate our activities and attack two separate targets simultaneously, he realized that would improve his odds. We’ve agreed to a joint strike tonight as practice, followed by coordinated strikes tomorrow. That gives us both time to finalize our plans.”

  “You realize that if it fails, this attack could cripple us?”

  Kalen nodded again, more slowly this time. “We’d better make damn sure we don’t fail.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Mynax and Hal sat in the office of the Commissioner of the Fleet. The purple besselberry wood of the ornate desk gleamed in the overhead illumination. But the two men sat around the smaller, casual table in the corner as Hal explained what occurred during the raid on the pirate fortress and all that had happened since.

  “I must say, Hal, I’m amazed at what you and Captain Jeffries were able to accomplish by yourselves. And to escape from the pirates’ clutches like you did, very impressive.”

  Hal waved off the compliments. “Sir, we’ve done nothing to stop the pirates from using their nukes, and all we’ve managed to do inside the fortress is to cause some temporary annoyance. Sooner or later they’ll kill Kalen and the others and the pirates will go back to business as usual. That’s why we need your help.”

  “My help?” Mynax snorted. “What could I possibly do to help you defeat the pirates?” His mouth pursed in bitter memory.

  “We sent more than a hundred ships against them and they cleaned our clocks. There’s no more fleet. All I’ve got left is a few ships that haven’t yet come in for decommissioning, and one that’s undergoing the process already. It doesn’t even have a crew anymore. Believe me, I’d love to help you. But there’s simply nothing left to throw at the pirates.”

  “Commissioner, that’s where you’re wrong. I have a plan. It won’t take a battle fleet, just one ship—even an unarmed one, a few troops and one specialist. If you can round them up in the next day or two, I think we might have a chance to defeat the pirates once and for all.”

  Mynax’s eyes lit up at the thought—the first bit of encouraging news he’d heard in weeks. “Really. Tell me.”

  “Three, two, one, now!” Kalen triggered the small explosion and braced himself. It made more noise than he would have liked, but it couldn’t be avoided. Besides, the pirates undoubtedly had security cams in the area anyway. The rest of the Kadre—minus Nude and Merry—stood guard on either side of the door.

  Kalen ducked inside, through the smoke, and addressed those within the chamber. “My name is Kalen Jeffries, Captain of the Unity ship Adventurer. We’re here to rescue you. Unless you like the idea of being slaves for the rest of your lives, follow me.”

 
He turned without waiting for an answer and stepped back through the doorway into the corridor outside. Seven coughing shapes emerged from the smoky holding pen and followed Kalen. They stepped over the corpses of the two guards Kalen’s team had killed earlier, on the way in.

  The rest of the Kadre formed a protective cordon around them and they reached the next intersection where Vanderwaal’s people stood guard.

  “Come on! Let’s go!” Vanderwaal hissed. “The guards are bound to be here any second. Move it!”

  The nineteen former slaves heeded his advice.

  “Sir,” MekFensal called up to Penrod. “The explosion was at Holding Pen 5. I have dispatched guards to the area.”

  “Good.”

  Penrod turned to Ishtawahl, who had just emerged from his office. “Good call on your part, Jern. They did go after more prisoners. Now we just have to see how the rest of your plan works out.”

  Ishtawahl nodded. “Let us hope the plan works as designed. If so, we are rid of the prisoners’ ringleader and perhaps the rest of them as well.”

  “That’s the best-case scenario. But just in case, hire another hundred mercenaries as guards and get them here ASAP. If we have to post four guards at every major intersection around the clock to stop these bastards, then damn it, that’s what we’ll do.”

  “Yes sir,” Ishtawahl replied. “I can get them here in a few days at most.”

  “Good. This has gone on way too long. One way or another, we will regain control of this fortress.”

  “I must be crazy, but I think it’s worth a shot.” Mynax chewed his lip in thought.

  “I think I can find the troops you want. There are plenty of out-of-work crewmen on-planet. I can put out word discreetly and probably get as many as we need in a couple of days. The specialist, though, could be tricky.”

  Hal shrugged. “I expected that, but without one there’s no point in going ahead with the mission.”

  “I understand. I can’t promise anything, but I’ll do what I can.”

  “Sir, I have to get back there. A lot of good people will die if I don’t.”

  “Believe me, Hal, I’ll do everything within my power—but these days that’s not much.”

  The escapees returned to the maze to meet up with Nude and Merry. With the number of combatants swelled by seventy percent, the former prisoners now represented a significant fighting force, if a relatively green one. The next step was to apportion the new “recruits” between Kalen’s Kadre, who were determined to neutralize the pirate threat, and Vanderwaal’s Vipers, whose plan was to fight their way onto a pirate ship and escape.

  After impassioned speeches by the two leaders, it was time to vote. By a show of hands, four elected to join Kalen versus three for Vanderwaal. That gave the Kadre eight fighters, plus the two noncombatants, to nine for the Vipers.

  “Very well,” Kalen declared. “We’ll split into two teams for now to go over our plans. Tomorrow we stage Operation Divide and Conquer with simultaneous attacks on the hangar and the main power plant. That should keep their security forces busy and prevent them from converging on the hangar.”

  He looked over the group assembled in the chamber. “This is a proud day for me. The pirates have been kicking our butts for the last couple of years. I think now we have the team to start kicking back.” He smiled at his team. “Those of you who chose to fight with me, step forward and receive your weapons.”

  Vanderwaal spoke up. “And those of you who joined my team, follow me and we’ll get you squared away back at our chamber.” He turned to leave.

  “Me first!” a burly Alberian declared and pushed through the crowd toward Sue who stood with a sackful of blasters.

  “That’s the spirit,” Kalen said with a grin. He turned to speak with the Melphim who had just joined his team.

  The Alberian grabbed the blaster from Sue and took aim at Kalen’s head. Nude dove at the Alberian. An intense blue light lit the chamber.

  Kalen stumbled and fell to the floor.

  Nude, despite his size, was no match for the stronger Alberian. The two wrestled with the blaster for a moment, before the Alberian elbowed Nude in the face, knocking him back.

  All this took only seconds. The rest of the group was paralyzed by shock and indecision and stood, gaping.

  As soon as the assassin won control of the blaster, everyone’s paralysis broke and most scattered. The Alberian, still prone, took aim at Vanderwaal’s exposed back and fired just as a Thorian turned in that direction. The shot hit him instead, dropping him to the floor.

  The Alberian leapt to his feet, and leveled his weapon at Kalen’s inert head. He began to squeeze the trigger…and crumpled to the floor.

  Behind him stood Sue, blaster held at arm’s length. Her grip was rock-steady. When the Alberian fell, so did her arm. Merry stood behind her, trembling, mostly hidden by Sue’s gown.

  Nude raced to Kalen’s side, checking for a pulse. He let out an explosive breath. “Kalen lives. The blast merely grazed him. It appears he hit his head when he fell, but I do not believe he is seriously injured. Merely minor burns.”

  He made his way to the Thorian. There was no point in checking his vitals. The smoking twenty centimeter hole in his back exposed soft tissue where his spine should have been.

  Nude sighed. “I did not even know his name.” His eyes scanned the rest of the assemblage. “Is anyone else injured?”

  The multitude of headshakes was reassuring. He nodded and approached the Alberian, who lay on his back, eyes open and staring at nothing. Nude turned him onto his side. A chunk of the assassin’s skull was missing. Nude let the body fall back to the floor.

  He looked at Sue, who still stood stiffly, staring into space. “Are you well, Souk’Glouf of Clan Pestas?”

  She nodded. “Ye-yes. I have never killed before.”

  “You had no choice. You saved lives through your action.”

  She nodded. “I know. Still….”

  Merry came out from behind Sue and wrapped her arms around the Chan’Yi’s legs. Sue absently stroked Merry’s hair to calm her sobs.

  Nude addressed the new recruits. “How did this happen? Who is he? Why did he do this?”

  The Melphim answered for the group. “We do not know. He was not captured with our group. He was brought to our cell only yesterday. We assumed he was taken in another raid. He kept to himself and said little, other than his name: Sten Mervetahl.” He shrugged. “I have no idea why he would do this.”

  Vanderwaal spoke to the room. “Isn’t it obvious? He was a sleeper, a mole. The pirates probably put someone in each holding pen hoping we’d try to free them and then the sleeper would kill the leaders.”

  He looked over at Kalen who was just sitting up, holding a hand to the back of his head. “He came very close to succeeding, too.”

  Vanderwaal’s face grew hard. “Now it’s time we pay them back.” He nodded in thought for a moment. “I’ve changed my mind, Captain. I was wrong. Escaping isn’t a long-term answer. The best way to protect my family is to stop the pirates first—otherwise they’ll only get stronger and keep coming after the rest of us. If you’ll have me, I’ll help you fight the pirates.”

  The Melphim, Menjen Zo, helped Kalen to his feet.

  “Welcome back, Steve,” the latter replied with a smile. He walked toward Vanderwaal. The other man met him halfway and they clasped hands.

  “We’ve been worried about the pirates for a long time,” Vanderwaal declared with a determined look. “I’d say it’s about time the pirates start worrying about us.” A cold smile spread across his face.

  “Kalen’s Kadre is coming for them.”

  Spelvin Mynax directed his console to call Hal aboard the Fair Trade, docked in orbit high above the planet. The afternoon sun was already dipping behind the mountains beyond Mynax’s office window. The steady breeze that had blown all day appeared to be dying down in lock-step with the sunlight.

  “I found the specialist you wanted,” Mynax said.
“It wasn’t easy finding one who would risk his neck for free, but I managed.”

  “Free?” Hal echoed.

  Mynax shrugged. “Sure. With the dissolution of the Unity, there aren’t any funds for paychecks or expenses, other than those associated with the disposition of assets. As it is, I’ll have to get creative to account for the fuel needed to fly to the Borhtar system and back. Everything has been inventoried and documented. I’m responsible for ensuring that it’s all sold off and the proceeds distributed among the former dues-paying members of the Unity. Unauthorized conversion of assets is a felony.”

  Hal’s eyes went wide with surprise. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “There’s no reason you should have. But that’s why I couldn’t simply call the salvagers and have them put back everything they took out of the ship.”

  “I certainly don’t want to get you in trouble.” Hal thought for a moment. “I suppose I could find another way to get there—without risking a Unity ship. If we lose that, the Unity members will really scream.”

  Mynax waved off his offer. “Don’t worry about it. Let ‘em try to take it out of my hide. If your plan is successful, we’ll be heroes. If not, we’ll be dead and it won’t matter anymore.”

  “We? What are you talking about? You’re not going.”

  “The hell I’m not. You’ll need all the help you can get and I’ve only been able to find six troops willing to go on this ‘suicide mission.’ Counting you, that’s only seven fighters, one specialist, and another pilot. That’s a pretty meager assault team to take on a pirate fortress that decimated a battle fleet. You need me. Besides, I’m going stir-crazy sitting in this office all day shuffling papers.”

  Hal nodded in thought. “If the plan works, we won’t need an army. Still, you’ve got a point that eight would be better than seven. But people are going to be shooting at us. You may die, I may die. You may have to shoot someone—maybe many someones. Are you up to that?”