Planet Pirates Omnibus

by neetha Napew

  “As you wish. But we can still enjoy each other as long as we’re together, no?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “I’m glad. Sure I can’t persuade you to join up?” Coromell asked in a half-humorous tone. “It’ll improve your reputation considerably to be a part of Fleet Intelligence. You could go places, meet new people and see new things while gathering information for us.”

  “What? Is that a condition for seeing you?” Lunzie asked in mock outrage. “I have to join the navy?” She raised an eyebrow.

  “No. But if that’s the only way I can get you to join up, maybe I’ll have the regulations altered,” he chuckled wryly. “Do stay on Tau Ceti for a while. I’m stationed here, flying a desk on this operation. I hope to persuade you to change your mind about the service. You could be a true asset to the Fleet. Stay for a while, please.”

  Lunzie hesitated, considering. “I wouldn’t feel right hanging around waiting for you to get off work every day. I’d be useless.”

  Coromell cleared his throat. “Didn’t you speak to the Medical Center about a job? You could be employed there, until you decide what to do. They, urn, called me to ask if your services were available. They seem to think you’re Fleet personnel already. You have other unsuspected valuable traits. You listen to my father, who would be so happy to spend time with you. At his age, there are so few people he can talk to.” Coromell looked wistfully hopeful, an expression at odds with both uniform and occupation.

  Her last protests evaporated. How well she understood old Admiral Coromell’s dilemma. “All right. None of the current prospects at the spaceport appeal to me. But that’s not why I’m staying. I’m enjoying myself.”

  “I like you. Dr. Lunzie.”

  “I like you, too. Admiral Coromell.” She squeezed his hand, and they sat together quietly for a while, simply enjoying the brook’s quiet murmur and the sound of birdsong in the warmth of the afternoon.

  Thereafter, they spent time together whenever possible. Coromell’s favourite idea of a relaxing afternoon was a stroll or a few hours listening to music or watching a classical event on Tri-D. They shared their music and literature libraries, and discussed their favourites. Lunzie enjoyed being with him. He was frequently tense when they met, but relaxed quickly once he had put the day behind him. Their relationship was different from the one she had had with Tee. Coromell expected her to offer opinions, and held to his own even if they differed. He was perfectly polite, as was appropriate to an officer and a gentleman, but he could be very stubborn. Even when they got into a knock-down-drag-out argument, Lunzie found it refreshing after Tee’s selfless deferral to her tastes. Coromell trusted her with his honest views, and expected the same in return.

  Coromell’s schedule was irregular. When pirates had been sighted, he would be swamped with reports that had to be analysed to the last detail. He had other duties which had not yet been reassigned to an officer of lesser rank that could keep him at the complex for four or five shifts on end. Lunzie, not wishing to take a permanent job yet, found herself with time on her hands that not even her Discipline training could use up.

  Coromell knew that she had passed through the Adept stage of Discipline. At his urging, and with his personal recommendation to the group master, she joined a classified course in advanced Discipline taught in a gymnasium deep in the FSP complex.

  There were two or three other pupils in the meditation sessions, but no names were ever exchanged, so she had no idea who they were. Her guess that they were upper echelon officers in the Fleet or senior diplomats was never verified or disproved. The master instructed them in fascinating types of mind control that built on early techniques accessible even to the first-level students. Using Discipline to heighten the senses to listen and follow the development of a subject’s trance state, one could plant detailed posthypnotic suggestions. The shortened form of trance induction was amazing in its simplicity.

  “This would be a terrific help in field surgery,” Lunzie pointed out at the end of one private session. “I could persuade a patient to ignore poor physical conditions and remain calm.”

  “Your patient would still have to trust you. A strong will can counteract any attempt at suggestion, as you know, as can panic,” the master warned her, gazing into her eyes. “Do not consider this a weapon, but rather a tool. The Council of Adepts would not be pleased. You are not merely a student-probationer any more.”

  Lunzie opened her mouth to protest that she would never do such a thing, but closed it again. He must have known of cases in which students had tried to rely upon this single technique to control an enemy, only to fail, perhaps at the cost of their lives. Then she smiled. Perhaps the technique worked too well and she had to learn to apply it correctly and with a fine discrimination for its use.

  One delightful change which had occurred while she was in her second bout of cold sleep was that coffee had had a renaissance. On a fine afternoon following her workout, Lunzie came back from the spaceport and programmed a pot of coffee from the synth unit. The formula the synthesisers poured out had no caffeine, but it smelled oily and rich and wonderful, and tasted just like she remembered the real brew. There was even real coffee available occasionally in the food shops, an expensive treat in which, with her credit balance of back pay, she could afford to revel. She wondered if Satia Somileaux back on the Descartes Platform would ever try any.

  The message light on her com-unit was blinking. Lunzie wandered over to it with a hot cup in her hands and hit the recall control. Coromell’s face appeared on the screen.

  “I’m sorry to ask on such short notice, Lunzie, but do you have a formal outfit? I’m expected to appear at a Delegate’s Ball tonight at 2000 hours and your company would make it considerably less tedious an affair, I will be in the office until 1700 hours, awaiting your reply.” The image blinked off.

  “Gack, it’s 1630 now!”

  Bolting her coffee, Lunzie flew for her cases and rummaged through them for the teal-tissue sheath. The frock was easily compressed and didn’t take up much room, so it was difficult to find. Yes, it was there, and it was clean and in good condition, needing only a quick wrinkle-proofing. She communicated immediately with Coromell’s office that she would be free to come and hastened to set the clothes-freshener to Touch Up. She tossed the sweat-stained workout clothes in a corner and dashed through the sonic cleanser.

  “Much more modest than I remembered.” Approvingly, she noted her reflection in the mirror, making a final twirl. She smoothed down the sides of the thin fabric which shimmered in the evening sun-light coming through her window, allowing herself to admire the trim curves of her body. “You wouldn’t think I was interested in this man, with the fuss I’m making to look good for him, would you?”

  Lunzie fastened on her favourite necklace, a simple copper-and-gold choker that complemented the colour of her dress and picked up becoming highlights in her hair and eyes.

  Coromell arrived for her at 1945, looking correct and somewhat uncomfortable in his dark blue dress uniform. He gave Lunzie an approving once-over as he presented her with a corsage of white camellias. “Earth flowers. One of our botanists grows them as a hobby. How very pretty you look. Most becoming, that shimmery blue thing. I’ve never seen that style before,” he said as he escorted her out to his chauffeured groundcar, “Is it the latest fashion?”

  Lunzie chuckled. “I’ll tell you a secret: it’s a ten-year-old frock from halfway across the galaxy. It’s surely the latest vogue somewhere.”

  The party had not yet begun when they arrived at the Ryxi Embassy, one of an identical row of three-story stone buildings set aside for the diplomatic corps of each major race in the FSP. Lunzie was amused to observe the resemblance between the embassies and the BOQ barracks on the Fleet bases. A flock of the excitable two-meter-tall avians stood at the entrance greeting their guests, flanked by a host of silent Ryxi wearing the crossed sashes of honour guards.

  “Great ones for standing on their dignities, the
Ryxi,” Coromell said in an aside as they waited in turn to pass inside. “Excited they forget everything, and I shouldn’t like to tangle with an enraged birdling.”

  A storklike Ryxi stepped forward to bow jerkily to Coromell. “Admirrral, a pleasurre,” he trilled. The Ryxi normally spoke very fast. They expected others to comprehend them but occasionally, as on this festive evening, they slowed their speech to gracious comprehensibility.

  Coromell bowed. “How nice to see you, Ambassador Chrrr. May I present my companion. Dr. Lunzie?”

  Chrrr bowed like a glass barometer. “Welcome among the flock, Doctorrrr. Please make yourrrself frrreee of the Embassy of the Rrryxi.”

  “You’re very kind,” Lunzie nodded, beating back a temptation to roll the one r like a Scotsman.

  With their stiff legs, Ryxi preferred to stand unless sitting was absolutely necessary. For the convenience of humans, Seti, Weft, and the dozen or so other species represented that night, their great hall had been provided with plenty of varied seats for their comrades of inferior race.

  “That’s what they consider us,” Coromell murmured as they moved into the hall, “or any race that hasn’t a flight capability.”

  “Where do they rank Thek?”

  “They ignore them whenever possible.” Coromell chuckled. “The Ryxi don’t think it’s worth the time it takes to listen.”

  An elderly Seti, who was the personal ambassador from the Seti of Fomalhaut, held court from the U-shaped backless chair which accommodated his reptilian tail. He made a pleasant face at her as she was introduced to him.

  “Sso, you were graduated from Astriss Alexandria,” he hissed. “As was I. Classs of 2784.”

  “Ah, you were four years behind me,” Lunzie calculated. “Do you remember Chancellor Graystone?”

  “I do. A fine administrator, for a Human. How curious, elder one, that you do not appear of such advanced years as your knowledge suggests,” the Seti remarked politely. Seti were very private individuals. In Lunzie’s experience, this was the closest that one had ever come to asking a personal question.

  “Why, thank you, honoured Ambassador. How kind of you to notice,” Lunzie said, bowing away as Coromell swept her on to the next introduction.

  “I’m surprised there aren’t any Thek here,” Lunzie commented as they acknowledged other acquaintances of Coromell’s.

  He cleared his throat. “The Thek aren’t very popular right now among some members of the FSP. Even though the ordinary Ryxi never seem to care what anyone else thinks, the diplomatic corps are sensitive to public feeling.”

  “That makes them unusual?” Lunzie asked.

  “You have no idea,” Coromell said dryly.

  “Why, Admiral, how nice to see you. And who is your charming companion?”

  Lunzie turned to smile politely at the speaker and took an abrupt step back. A dark-haired female heavyworlder with overhanging brow ridges was glaring down at her. But she had not spoken. Seated in front of the huge female in an elegant padded arm-chair was a slight human male with large, glowing black eyes. He was apparently quite used to having the massive woman hovering protectively behind him. Lunzie recovered herself and nodded courteously to the man in the chair.

  “lenois, this is Lunzie,” Coromell said. “Lunzie, lenois is the head of the well-known Parchandri merchant family whose trade is most important to Tau Ceti.”

  “This humble soul is overwhelmed by such compliments from the noble Admiral.” The little man inclined his head politely. “And delighted to meet you.”

  “The pleasure is mine,” Lunzie responded as composedly as she could. It would never do to display her distrust and surprise. She knew the reputation of the Parchandris. Something about lenois made her dislike him on the spot. Not to mention his taste in companions.

  lenois indicated the heavyworlder woman behind him. “My diplomatic aide, Quinada.” She bowed and straightened up again without ever taking her eyes off Lunzie. “We haven’t had the pleasure of seeing you before, Lunzie. Are you a resident of Tau Ceti?”

  “No. I’ve only just arrived from Alpha Centauri,” she answered politely. Coromell had assured her there was no reason to hide her origins beyond the dictates of simple good taste.

  “Alpha Centauri? How interesting,” intoned the Parchandri.

  “My daughter’s family lives in Shaygo,” Lunzie replied civilly. “I had never met them and they invited me to a family reunion.”

  “Ah! How irreplaceable is family. In our business, we trust family first and others a most regrettably distant second. Fortunately, ours is a very large family. Alpha Centauri is a marvellously large world with so many amenities and wonders. You must have found it hard to leave.”

  “Not very,” Lunzie returned drily, “since the atmosphere’s so polluted it’s not fit to breathe.”

  “Not fit to breathe? Not fit?” The Parchandri bent forward in an unexpected fit of laughter. “That’s very good. But, Lunzie,” and he had suddenly sobered, “surely the air of a planet is more breathable than that of a ship?”

  Lunzie remembered suddenly the engineer Perkin’s warning about the owners of the Destiny Cruise Lines. They were a Parchandri merchant family called Paraden. She didn’t know if lenois was a Paraden but preferred not to provoke him or arouse his curiosity. What if he was one of the defendants in the case against Destiny Cruise Lines? Coromell might need this man’s good will.

  “Lunzie was shipwrecked on her way to Alpha Centauri,” Coromell said, completely surprising Lunzie with this remark delivered in the manner of keeping a conversation going.

  “I see. How dreadful.” The Parchandri’s large eyes gleamed as if it were not dreadful to him at all and, in some twisted way, she became more interesting to him. That was a weird perversion. “Were you long in that state?” the Parchandri pressed her. “Or were your engineers able to make repairs to your vessel? It is quite a frightening thing to be at the mercy of your machines in deep space. You appear to have survived the calamity without trauma. Commendable fortitude. Do tell this lowly one all!” His eyes glittered with anticipation.

  Lunzie shrugged, not at all willing to gratify this strange man. Coromell would not have placed her in jeopardy if this lenois was a Paraden and possibly one of the defendants in the case against Destiny Cruise Lines.

  “There’s not much to tell, really. We were towed in by a military ship who happened to pass by the site of the wreck.”

  “How fortuitous a rescue.” lenois’s eyes glittered. His . . . minder - no matter if he called her a diplomatic aide, she was a bodyguard if ever Lunzie had seen one - never wavered in the stare she favoured Lunzie. “Stranded in space, landed on Alpha Centauri and now you’re here. How brave you are.”

  “Not at all,” Lunzie said, wishing they could move away from this vile man and his glowering “aide” but Coromell’s hand on her elbow imperceptibly restrained her. Strange that he failed to notice that she had given no details about her ship. Did lenois already “know”? “Travel is a fact of life these days. Ships and rumours traverse the galaxy with equal speed.”

  lenois ignored her flippancy. “Admiral,” he turned to Coromell, “have you tried the refreshments yet? I do believe that the Ryxi have brought in a genuine Terran wine for our pleasure. From Frans, I am told.”

  “France,” Coromell corrected him with a bow. “A province in the northern hemisphere of Earth.”

  “Ah, yes. This is one world to which I have not yet been. The Ryxi have truly provided a splendid repast for their guests. Raw nuts and seeds are not much to my liking, but there are sweet cream delicacies that would serve to delight those far above my humble station. And the cheeses! Pure ambrosia.” The Parchandri kissed the back of his hand.

  In spite of her shield of will, Lunzie flinched involuntarily. Ambrosia. It was a coincidence that the Parchandri should use that word. Having carried and cherished it like an unborn child for the better part of three months, Lunzie was sensitive to its use. She caught both men lo
oking at her. Coromell hadn’t reacted. He knew the significance of the word, but what of the merchant? lenois was studying her curiously.

  “Is the temperature not comfortable for you. Doctor?” lenois asked in a sympathetic tone. “In my opinion, the Ryxi keep the room very warm, but I am accustomed to my home which is in a mountainous region. Much cooler than here.” He beckoned upward to his gigantic bodyguard. They whispered together shortly, then Quinada left the room. lenois shrugged. “I require a lighter jacket or I will stifle before I am able to give my greetings to my hosts.”

  lenois drew the conversation on to subjects of common interest on which he held forth charmingly, but Lunzie was sure that he was watching her. There was a secretive air about the little merchant which had nothing to do with pleasant surprises. She found him sinister as well as perverted and wished she and Coromell could leave. Lunzie was made uncomfortable by lenois’s scrutiny, and tried not to meet his eyes.

  Finally, Coromell seemed to notice Lunzie’s signals to move on. “Forgive me, lenois. The Weftian ambassador from Parok is here. I must speak to him. Will you excuse us?”

  lenois extended a moist hand to both of them. Lunzie gave it a hearty squeeze in spite of her revulsion and was rewarded by a tiny moue of amusement. “Can we count on seeing the two of you at our little party in five days time?” the merchant asked. “The Parchandri wish to reignite the flame of our regard in the hearts of our treasured friends and valued customers. Will you brighten our lives by attending?”

  “Yes, of course,” Coromell said graciously. “Thank you for extending the invitation.”

  The Parchandri was on his feet now, bowing elaborately. “Thank you. You restore face to this humble one.” He made a deep obeisance and sat down.

  “Must we go to the party of the unscrupulous Parchandri?” Lunzie asked in an undertone as they moved away.