TROPHY

by Paul M. Schofield

  “You tempt me greatly, Lieutenant.” She narrowed her eyes and looked sideways at her young officer, then broke into a wide grin. “It is your time and place for this assignment. You are the best fit. You have already proved that. Think of the dynamic team you will all make. You will be unbeatable!”

  “Thank you, Star-Commander. Thank you!” Rogerton said. She paused, staring at the sleek new vessel. “When will the ship be finished, and how soon can we depart?”

  “We have been working hard on this ship for months. And now, it is non-stop at a feverish pace since the abduction of Guardian V and Franelli. In two or three days it will be finished. Tomorrow, Pilot Kolanna will be here to receive her brain-stem implant and undergo some critical training. She will also meet Martin and Panther. That should be interesting, do you not agree?” she said, raising her eyebrows.

  **********

  “It's a dream, Lieutenant, and I don’t want to wake up!” Kolanna said, overwhelmed by the new ship, new assignment, and new additions to the crew.

  “It is just like a dream, Kolanna,” Rogerton said. “The Shipyard Superintendent told us they need six more hours to finish loading supplies and running final diagnostics on the circuits. I wish we could depart now. Bestmarke is getting farther away by the hour.” She grew more impatient as they watched the final loading of supplies into their new Clipper Class ship. As they looked through the thick windows of Dock C-17 a familiar crew member approached them.

  “Lieutenant-Warden Archer reporting for duty, Ma’am,” she said, walking up and standing at attention.

  “Congratulations on your promotion, Lieutenant-Warden,” Rogerton said. “As a Lieutenant-Warden you could have your own ship. Thank you for staying with us.”

  “Even having my own Cruiser wouldn't match this assignment, Lieutenant,” Archer said, marveling at the sleek new ship. “This is a rare privilege, a once in a lifetime opportunity.”

  “I agree,” Rogerton said. More crew members arrived, reporting for duty, all expressing similar sentiments. When all but two had reported for duty, Rogerton addressed them.

  “You have all been briefed on our two special crew members, our two androids,” she said. “Remember, please, that they have been extensively programmed. The man android will look and act just as a real man, an ancient man. You will think of him and treat him as a real man. That is my requirement. The same applies to the panther. He is programmed to be as a real panther, with some behavior modifications. He is very docile and genuine to those on his side. He will not eat you!” she said, drawing a round of laughter.

  Hurried and excited voices in the distant corridor prompted the Lieutenant to say: “They are approaching now, we will greet them with professionalism and dignity. Please stand at attention.”

  As Martin and the great cat approached, the Lieutenant watched the eyes of her crew grow larger and larger, their mouths opening in unbridled awe. Remembering their orders, they closed them quickly.

  “Specialists Martin and Panther reporting for duty, Ma’am,” he said, standing at attention and bowing deeply to the Lieutenant. Panther also bowed following Martin’s lead.

  “Welcome aboard to you both,” Rogerton said, giving Martin a knowing look. Bending down, she hugged the great cat causing him to purr so loudly the air rattled around them.

  “Please, let me make introductions,” she said to the overwhelmed crew. Moments later, they entered the ship through the connecting tubes, beginning the process of familiarizing themselves with their unique and powerful ship.

  **********

  “The Clipper is ready, Star-Commander,” Rogerton said to VanDevere at her post on the bridge of the Victorian Cruiser Daniela. “All systems are functioning within normal limits and ready for operation. The Superintendent just signed off on the last of her inspections. We are ready to leave, with all due haste.”

  “The squadron will move out in four hours,” VanDevere said. “Our course will be toward the Keyhole. Beta and Gamma Squadrons have departed and are en route to the general area. We must assume that Bestmarke will try to use the Keyhole again now that he has Franelli back. We can only hope that he does not immediately go there. We do have some ships in the area but not enough to stop him.”

  “Could the Clipper alone stop him, Ma’am?”

  “It is very possible, Lieutenant.”

  “May we have permission to leave now at our greatest speed? It would be a good test for the ship.”

  “I do not favor the idea of your lone ship advancing against him, but we may have no other choice. I will not order you to do that, Lieutenant. It must be your decision.”

  “Then we are leaving, Star-Commander. We will keep you apprised of any and all situations. Thank you, Ma’am.”

  “Please, Lieutenant, take great care.”

  “We will, Ma’am,” she said as she strapped into her gravity seat. “Kolanna, use the steering thrusters and depart the station. Once outside, give us full chemical thrust. When we are at the safe-point, go to maximum starting thrust on the Zenkati fusion engine. Let's see what this ship can do!” She turned and grinned to Kolanna.

  Chapter XXXXII

  Earth Date: 476 N.V.A.

  Location: Asteroid Belt

  “Is the Guardian safe, Louis?” Estelle said. It was after midnight and she slowly paced the floor of his lab.

  “Yes, she is safe now, asleep in the cryogenics chamber,” Louis said, sitting at his desk. “She is out of Bestmarke’s reach.”

  “Good. Thank you.” She sat down next to him. “Have you worked out a way to send a message to the Fleet?”

  “I have an idea that will work if they are listening. I designed many of the systems on this ship including the COM systems. I know how difficult it will be to compromise any of them. Even a subtle try will be detected, so we'll have to use a different approach.

  “Every fusion engine has a different signature. Like snowflakes, none are exactly the same. Certain frequencies are generated by the engine, this is normal. Observed on an instrument, these frequencies each have their own specific wave pattern,” he said, gesturing with his hands.

  “And they are all different?”

  “Yes. Ships can be traced and located by their signature frequencies. People that don't want to be traced, like Bestmarke, add an electronic device to the engine that masks or hides the generated frequency, essentially making them neutral, unreadable.

  “Electronic parts are very stable, but sometimes they do fail. If one of the parts in the masking device were to fail intermittently, it would unmask the signature of the ship. If there is a pattern to the unmasking, not just randomly done, it will be detected quite soon.”

  “If somebody is looking for it,” Estelle said.

  “CENTRAL knows we'll have to be discreet, so they will be looking for anything unusual, no matter how faint. I check the engines and circuits daily. It will be simple to insert a modified part into the masking device. It will appear as a normal part that has become defective if it is discovered.” He looked at her with a satisfied look. “I will take care of it first thing tomorrow.”

  “For this all to work, the engines need to be operating. Right?” Estelle said.

  “Unfortunately, that is true. Braking thrust will work, but generally the engines only then run for a short while. It may be enough, however.”

  “Do you know where we are going now, Louis? Will we engage our braking thrust soon?”

  “We appear to be headed to the Asteroid Belt. Terran mentioned the name Izax when talking to his brother. Are you familiar with that name?”

  “We went to a specific asteroid after you were first taken from the ship. The fact that another party broke into CENTRAL indicates that Galen asked for favors or hired someone to do it. That must be where this Izax comes in. Bestmarke probably needs to pay him.” She paused with a disgusted look on her face. “Knowing Galen Bestmarke as we do, the situation could get ugly. I don’t trust any of these characters, these businessmen.”
>
  “I have heard a little about this Izax,” Louis said. “You and Tommie should keep a sharp eye on the whole affair.”

  “Thanks, Louis,” Estelle said as she left the lab, returning to her quarters.

  **********

  “Braking thrust and cloak drop in ten minutes,” Louis said.

  “Stelle!” Galen said, his voice booming. “You and the Pouncer get plugged in. Keep your eyes sharp on the NAV screens.”

  “Do you expect a welcoming party, Brother?” Terran said, turning to him.

  “I don't know what to expect,” Galen said, returning his gaze. “I don't trust him and I know he doesn't trust me. I made a mistake at our last meeting. I showed weakness, groveling in front of him, submitting to his demands. This time will be different, I will be in control.”

  “I don't think he will look at it that way, Brother,” Terran said with a worried look. “I suggest we go to full shielding with all weapons at ready when we drop our cloak. If he tries anything, it will be done quickly or when we are leaving, especially if he isn't happy with the results.”

  “I agree,” Galen said, looking down at his controls. “I'm charging up my weapons now.”

  Finally Louis said: “Thirty seconds to braking thrust and cloak drop. Everybody strap in.”

  “Full shields when we drop cloak!” Galen said.

  The engines roared to life with their braking thrust. The cloak dropped, full shielding took effect. No other ships could be seen.

  “I don't like this, Brother,” Galen said, scouring the NAV screens. “Izax should be here.”

  “He's here, but he's cloaked. I caught a shimmer on the NAV screens. Perhaps he was hoping to catch us unprepared with our shields down.”

  “He should know us better than that. We'll just wait him out. He can't fire on us as long as he is cloaked.”

  “Look, Brother, we don't have to wait. He's not that close, two hundred kilometers away, fully shielded with his weapons locked on us. Where is our friendly welcome?”

  “He wanted room to maneuver and thought he could catch us napping. We'll have to teach him a lesson on hospitality before we leave,” Galen said, a grim look on his face.

  “What an ugly ship! He'd be laughed out of a space port with that old bucket.”

  “What do you expect for an asteroid rat. He lives like a mole. He needs to get out more instead of burying himself in his big hollow rock,” Galen said. He waited a few more seconds and touched the switch for the COM system. “Izax, good to see you, old friend! Bring your space-plane over. You kept your end of the deal, now I'll keep mine.”

  “Humph! We shall see, Mr. Bestmarke, we shall see,” Izax said.

  “His rust-bucket ship is moving closer, still shielded. You're right, Brother. He doesn't trust you.” They watched the screens as his ship drew closer. “He's stopping ten kilometers distant and a space-plane is departing his ship. I will focus an opening in our shields for his space-plane to enter, and then close the opening immediately.”

  “Johnny, take four crew members with laser-rifles to the port. Open the doors and extend the arm. Bring his space-plane in, I will join you there,” Galen said, strapping a stun-phaser to the waist of his black flight suit. He walked quickly to the space-plane port.

  Instructing his men to spread out along the back wall with their laser-rifles pointed up, Galen walked out alone to greet Izax.

  “Welcome to my humble ship, old friend,” Galen said, his arms outstretched in greeting. “Perhaps you would like to stay and have dinner with us and enjoy our hospitality.”

  “I will enjoy making my choice and then leaving, Mr. Bestmarke. I do not have time for frivolous social functions.”

  “Very well, Izax. Come with me, please, to my Trophy Room and you shall have your choice.”

  He was accompanied by two large, muscular men with stun-phasers at their waists. They were all dressed in light gray protective suits.

  “Your men will have to leave their weapons here,” Galen said. “If not, they must stay here.”

  “Just stay here,” Izax said, after looking at the four men with laser-rifles. “Let us continue, Mr. Bestmarke.” His voice had an icy tone. “Show me what you have.”

  There was no small talk as Galen led the way to his Trophy Room. Galen walked with large measured strides while the shorter, portly Izax struggled to keep up in his quick short steps.

  “I do not know how you can live in these cramped quarters, floating out in space. I would go mad,” Izax said, out of breath and sweating.

  Galen looked at him with disgust and walked faster. Finally reaching the room, Galen unlocked it and the two went inside.

  “Please, Mr. Bestmarke, do not turn these trophies of yours all the way on, just leave them sleeping. It is so much quieter that way, don’t you think so?” he said with a wheeze between deep breaths. Taking a red handkerchief from his pocket, he wiped the sweat from his head and face.

  “Make your choice, Izax,” Galen said, after touching the top switch on all the pedestals.

  Izax walked around them all, studying them. “Exquisite!” he remarked at one trophy. “Marvelous!” he said of another. He continued on for a while before looking at Galen. “Mr. Bestmarke, I believe you are holding out on me. I was expecting to find a beautiful woman among these. That is what my heart is set on.”

  “These are all my trophies, Izax. I keep them all here. I have no others. Make your choice,” he said, sweeping his arm around.

  “Mr. Bestmarke, really!” Izax said in mock surprise, shaking his right hand, index finger extended. “I was informed that you had a Guardian delivered to you. That is who I want. Whether or not she is in this room is immaterial to me. She is my choice!”

  “That is not how the deal works, Izax,” Galen said, becoming impatient, his hands on his hips. “We made the deal with what I possessed when I came to you. Not for what I might have in the indefinite future. Besides, your hired lackeys made a bungling mess and they all got caught. I had to step in and finish the job myself. You should pay me for that. Your choice is any one thing in this room, nothing more.”

  “Very well, Mr. Bestmarke, I can see there is no point in my insisting. I have a reputation for keeping my word – it is obvious that you do not. Be that as it may, and to keep the peace between us, I will take this one, this one right here, Mr. Bestmarke. The one you call ‘The Hunter’.” He patted the heavy wooden pedestal.

  “That's what I expected, Izax,” he said with a sarcastic sneer. He turned off the pedestal and called for two crew members to bring a dolly, wrap up the trophy carefully in packing blankets, and wheel it to the space-plane waiting at the port. Neither said a word as they walked back through the long corridor, more slowly this time.

  They supervised the loading in silence. As the crew finished, they turned and faced each other. “Your word, Mr. Bestmarke, your word,” Izax said. He held his head up and looked down his short, bulbous nose.

  “Get off my ship!” Galen said with a growl. He turned and walked quickly back to the bridge.

  “Fire up the engines!” Galen said, strapping himself in. “Go to maximum thrust as soon as the space-plane clears the shields. Everybody strap in. Keep a sharp eye on the NAV screens, Stelle.”

  “Did it go as you expected, Brother?” Terran said, looking up at him.

  “Exactly as I expected,” Galen said, giving him a quick glance. “He will most likely take a parting shot or two.”

  “Space-plane is away and the port is tightly sealed,” Johnny said.

  “Everyone strap in. Maximum starting thrust in ten seconds,” Louis said over the COM. The two powerful engines roared to life, shaking and propelling the large ship forward with incredible acceleration.

  Estelle flipped the separator switch off to engage the link with Tommie. Her thoughts began racing across what felt like a closely trimmed, bright green lawn, infinite in size. There was Tommie, an orange striped tabby cat, sitting on a small bump of a hill, waiting for her wi
th anticipation. His ears were straight ahead and his golden eyes glowed in the warm sunlight.

  “Play?” Tommie thought.

  “Yes, play!” Estelle thought. “Let’s start now.” She engaged one of the training programs they daily practiced with. If Izax fired at them, she and Tommie could switch programs instantly and handle the real situation. She continued the practice session with Tommie.

  “The space-plane has reached his ship,” Terran said. “Do you think he will follow us in that old bucket? I don’t think he can.”

  “He doesn't need to, look!” Galen said. He pointed to the NAV screen at an object steadily following them, slowly gaining. “What is it?”

  “I see it, boss,” Estelle said. “It’s a fusion interceptor. It flies up the wake of a fusion engine. When it gets close enough to the ship, it launches two projectiles. They make a tight arc forward, penetrate the hull of the ship, and explode. It's old technology, but deadly.”

  “How do you defend against it?” Galen said, his apprehension growing. “Should I shut the engines down?”

  “No, it has already locked on to us. I’ve only read about them, but I know that the missile is hardened and nearly impossible to knock out. Keep us going as fast as possible.”

  Galen fired the hyper-lasers and the ion phase pulse-cannon, but with no success. “Nothing seems to work!” His frustration grew as the missile gained on them.

  “Tommie and I can get the projectiles, but it will take exact timing. I need control of the ship.”

  “You have control,” Galen said, tapping in the transfer code.

  In the program Tommie and Estelle watched, the missile appeared as a slow moving tortoise, crawling over the hills of the fine green lawn, inching its way closer and closer. Tommie attacked the tortoise with his claws and teeth, but just slid off, not affecting it at all.

  “Be patient, Tommie. Wait!” The missile continued to grow closer. “Get ready!” Estelle thought. “Get ready!”