Drifter's Run

by William C. Dietz

  The decoys made the tac tank hard to read. Lando's fingers tapped out a quick rhythm and dozens of lights disappeared leaving only those with numbers thirty or lower. There were eighteen left. The pirates could have destroyed Junk by now but they wanted the ship intact.

  Lando saw one, then another light wink out, as Cap and Cy scored solid hits. Melissa was firing but hadn't hit anything. That meant the port side of the ship was virtually undefended.

  Lando had responsibility for the belly. A blip lit up his targeting screen. Almost without thinking he squeezed the control grip and watched the blip disappear.

  "I got one!" It was Melissa's voice, but the hit came way too late. By now the pirates had identified the ship's weak side and were swarming to attack it.

  Lando was desperate. He considered a random hyperspace jump and rejected it. It might work, but what if it didn't? What if it dumped them in the middle of Durna's sun? No, he needed something with a better chance of success.

  Lando checked the nav screens. The huge irregular shapes of asteroids hemmed him in on every side. Damn, if only there was room to run. By now it was obvious the pirates had little more than scooters. Junk could outrun them on quarter power.

  Wait a minute, what was that? It looked like a huge doughnut with an off-center hole. It was crazy and probably impossible but…

  A klaxon went off and Cap's voice came over the intercom. "That was me. I burned one just as he touched down on our hull. Run for the speedster, Mel… I'll…"

  Lando didn't wait for more. As his fist slammed down on the emergency power button, his body was pushed back into the seat, his vision began to fade. Fighting to see, Lando watched the doughnut grow bigger and bigger until its edges disappeared off-screen.

  The three-dimensional tunnel loomed ahead. Lando fought for control. One little mistake, one touch of the ship's hull to the tunnel's rocky walls, and the ship would tumble out of control. Lando ignored the vids in favor of the nav screen. The computerized graphics were easier to use.

  Seconds turned into minutes and minutes into hours. And then, with one final flick of his wrist, they were out and into one of the holes or "lakes" that dotted the belt.

  Lando reduced power and checked the tac tank. Nothing. The surviving pirates were back on the other side of the doughnut, unable, or unwilling, to give pursuit.

  Lando let out a huge sigh of relief, dumped all systems to standby, and asked the ship for a damage report. A long list had just started to flood Lando's screens when Cap dropped into the co-pilot's seat. The older man looked gray and shaken. There was a forced steadiness to his voice.

  "Well done, lad. Next time, however, a little warning would be appreciated."

  "Sorry," Lando replied shakily. "There wasn't time."

  Cap nodded understandingly. "It was the best piece of piloting I've ever seen. How did you know the hole was big enough?"

  "The truth is," Lando answered, "I didn't know."

  The older man took a moment to absorb this, checked to see if Lando was serious, and laughed. Lando joined him, and by the time Melissa and Cy reached the bridge, both men were laughing hysterically.

  Thirty-six hours later Junk eased in next to an asteroid named Keeber's Knob. The "knob" was a bulbous rock formation that stuck up from the planetoid's surface, and Keeber was the famous Maxine Keeber, one of the few roid miners to actually strike it rich.

  The "Knob," as her fellow miners called the asteroid, contained a high concentration of chalcocite, an excellent source of copper, and therefore quite valuable. Even though copper was one of the most ancient metals used by man it was also one of the most useful.

  Rather than mine the chalcocite herself, Maxine had the good sense to sell the asteroid to Perez Mining, the small but growing company that now owned it.

  As Lando scanned the vid screens he saw a good-sized roid, maybe two hundred miles in diameter, half in the sun and half out. The company had just enough spin on rock to generate some internal gravity and keep things comfortable. Lando watched the surface rotate from light to dark. As it did the pilot saw enough weapons emplacements to repel anything short of a massed assault by Imperial marines.

  As if to reinforce this impression the voice that came over the com link was lazy and self-assured. "Hello, ship. Perez Mining here. You have five seconds to say something we approve of. After that you're free metal."

  Cap stepped up to the control panel and touched a switch. "Cut the crap, Tobias. You know who we are. How many ships look like Junk?"

  "True enough, Cap," the other man replied cheerfully, "but ships change hands sometimes, so it pays to check. I'd ask how you're doing… except it's obvious. You're obnoxious as hell."

  "I'm obnoxious?" Cap demanded with feigned outrage. "How can a man with the personality of a Zerk Monkey's rear end call me obnoxious?"

  The banter went on for some time but Lando tuned it out. He had things to do. First he programmed Junk's NAVCOMP to keep the ship on the same relative course as the asteroid.

  Then Lando went below to prepare the tender for use as a shuttle. Unlike the zero-G-to-zero-G transfer off Snowball, this situation would involve some light gravity as the cargo neared the asteroid's surface, enough to spread the cargo all over the landscape unless they used the tender to ease the landing. Lando was in the process of unhooking a fuel hose from a receptacle in the tender's belly when Melissa appeared.

  "Hello, Pik."

  "Hello, Melissa. Watch out for the hose."

  Melissa jumped out of the way and trudged along behind as Lando pulled it over against a bulkhead. "Are you mad at me?"

  Lando dropped the hose and looked down at her. He saw a tremble in her lower lip and eyes that were shiny with barely controlled tears. "Of course not. Why would I be mad at you?"

  "Because I screwed up. I tried, I really did, but I couldn't hit them. Except for one, and that was luck."

  Lando sat down on a crate of spare parts. He winked. "A hit's a hit. When you win, always take credit for it, and when you lose, blame it on bad luck."

  Melissa gave a wan smile. "You're trying to make me feel better. Mom said I should take responsibility for my actions." Melissa looked down at her feet. "And I screwed up. If it weren't for you… we'd be dead."

  Lando wanted to hug her but held himself back. Hugs were her father's job whether he did it or not. He cleared his throat.

  "Tell me something, Melissa. Let's say Cy wasn't here… and the ship's drives were out of alignment. I try to fix them and fail. Is that my fault?"

  Melissa looked thoughtful. "No, since you aren't an engineer, it's not your fault. You did the best you could."

  Lando nodded. "Right. So ask yourself the following questions. Are you an adult? Are you a trained gunner? And did you do the best you could?"

  Melissa thought about it for a moment, wiped her face with a sleeve, and smiled. "Thanks, Pik. Daddy says you're one helluva pilot… but you're something more too. You're my best friend." And with that Melissa kissed Lando's cheek, laughed, and skipped away.

  It took three standard days to transfer the cargo from Junk to the planetoid below. Over and over they loaded cargo aboard the tender, ferried it down to Knob's surface, and dragged it onto the crawlers that carried it away. The miners provided some of the muscle but it was still hard work, and by the time it was over, Lando was ready for two or three days of rest. Unfortunately he didn't get them.

  Once the final load of cargo was down the miners threw a party in their underground complex. It was a cheerful affair, complete with games for the children and an open bar for the adults.

  Melissa had a wonderful time, whooping and screaming as the children chased each other up and down the duracrete corridors, and whining when it was time to leave.

  Cy won twenty credits in a game of Rockets and Stars, Cap drank until he passed out, and Lando hit on a pretty brunette named Cee.

  She had quick intelligent eyes, a stiff mohawk, and a very nice figure. As usual Lando tried some of his fathe
r's favorite smuggling stories first, got a good reaction, and went for the close. "How 'bout you and I slip away and talk?"

  It didn't work. Cee patted his hand as she spoke. "Thanks, Pik, but there's three things I never do: I never play with loaded guns, I never go outside without a suit, and I never go to bed with pilots. Call me conservative… but that's how I am."

  So as they pulled away from Knob, Lando was more than a little hung over, still horny, and looking forward to some rest. All he had to do was find a gate, pass through it, and punch in Snowball's coordinates. Then, barring rock pirates and other unforeseen problems, they could coast all the way home.

  Lando was just setting up a course for Gate Twelve when Cap staggered onto the bridge. His hair was uncombed, his eyes were red, and he moved as if his body were made of glass. Coming up behind Lando he examined the vid screens, checked Junk's course, and offered the pilot a data cube.

  "Looks fine… but run this course instead. Call me if you see anything unusual." So saying, the older man turned and walked away.

  Somewhat surprised, Lando accepted the cube, and began to plug it in. He stopped when he heard Cap's voice. "Lando?"

  The pilot turned around. Cap was more than halfway to the starboard lift tube. "Yeah?"

  "You'll call me if you see anything strange?"

  "Yeah, Cap. I'll call you."

  "Good." And with that Cap walked away.

  Curious, Lando plugged the cube into the NAVCOMP, pulled it on-line, and read it out. He frowned as the screen filled with orderly rows of numbers. The numbers disappeared as his fingers danced over a keyboard. A pattern appeared. A graphic layout of the belt's known features, the gates, and Cap's course.

  It didn't make any sense. Sorenson's course would cause them to crisscross a small section of the belt a dozen times. In doing so they would risk collision with uncharted debris, use a lot of fuel, and waste what could've been productive time. It was a stupid thing to do. No wonder Cap was broke, or the next closest thing.

  "Weird, huh?"

  Lando went for his slug gun as he turned around.

  Cy squirted himself backward and dipped apologetically. "Sorry, Pik. I'll make some noise next time."

  Lando nodded, somewhat mollified, but unwilling to let Cy completely off the hook. "I should think so. That's a damn good way to get yourself blasted."

  The cyborg rotated forward in agreement. "Sorry, Pik. It won't happen again."

  Lando smiled. Something about Cy made it hard to stay mad. Besides, the cyborg was a good sort, and one helluva engineer. By working damned near around the clock Cy had repaired most of the damage done during the pirate attack. "You said Cap's course was 'weird'… as if you were expecting it."

  The silver ball made a jerking motion that reminded Lando of a shrug. "I was. Every time we enter the belt, Cap waits till the job's done, and searches for his ship."

  "Ship? What ship?"

  Cy floated toward the control panel and came to rest on top of the tac tank. "You remember that cyborg named Jord Willer? The one that damned near rammed us off Snowball? Remember how he mentioned the Star of Empire? Well, she was a liner, a big one. The biggest of her time. I even rode on her once when I was a little boy, but that was more than thirty standards back, and before Cap took command. She was a grand ship, nearly four miles long, and loaded with every luxury you can imagine.

  "Every year the Empire made a tour of the inner planets. And every year two thousand members of the social elite would pay exorbitant prices to come aboard, criticize each other's clothes, and enjoy 'the tour.'"

  Cy was silent for a moment, as if collecting his thoughts, or remembering how it felt to have a flesh-and-blood body.

  "Anyhow, the way Cap tells it, the Star of Empire was in hyperspace, making the jump from New Britain to a nav beacon just off Durna's sun when something went wrong.

  "Nobody knows for sure, but Cap thinks that a billion-to-one failure by the NAVCOMP dropped the ship out of hyperspace a fraction of a second too early. Others believe it was a tiny drive fluctuation, or some sort of unusual discontinuity in hyperspace, but whatever the reason… she came out right in the middle of the asteroid belt."

  Now Lando remembered. He remembered adults talking, some sort of distant disaster, and the name: Star of Empire.

  He looked at Cy. "If Cap was in command, what's he doing here?"

  Cy swiveled from side to side as if shaking his head. "Come on, Pik! When you lose a ship like the Empire, your career is over, no matter where you are at the time. And if you're dead drunk, well, a tug's the most you can hope for."

  "Cap was drunk?"

  Cy rolled forward, then back. "That's right. The first officer got some of the people off, including Cap, but very few survived. Many of those who survived the initial impact with the roid were killed while trying to escape the belt."

  Lando tried to imagine. A huge ship, miles long, suddenly appears in the middle of an asteroid belt and crashes into a roid. There's chaos as passengers are sucked into space and klaxons hoot too late.

  Men scream as they fight for lifeboats.

  Children die as metal bends inward to crush soft flesh.

  Corridors are slick with blood.

  Air whistles out through a tiny hole as a man struggles to plug it.

  An old man smiles and plays the grand piano in the ship's lounge.

  An officer yells orders until a passenger kills her, takes her space armor, and heads for a lock.

  Lovers embrace as the air is sucked from their lungs.

  And somewhere in all this a drunk captain, a limp load over someone's shoulder, wakes to find that his ship is dead.

  Lando shook his head in amazement. "So what're you telling me? That Cap's looking for the Star?"

  "That's right," Cy replied. "There was a lot of confusion after the wreck. Lifeboats went every which way. Many were never seen again. With the exception of Cap and Jord Willer, the entire bridge crew was killed. The ensuing investigation took two years, the trial took months, but they never found the wreck.

  "That was thirty years ago, and most people figure she's been pounded into a billion pieces by now, but not Cap. No, he thinks she's a drifter, a ghost ship waiting for his return.

  "It takes him a while to get drunk, and if you catch him at just the right point, he'll tell you all about it. For that matter he'll tell the entire bar about it. How she's out there, a drifter worth millions in salvage, just waiting for someone to claim her."

  Lando remembered Jord Willer, and his promise to be there when Cap found the Star. The cyborg wanted more than revenge, he wanted millions in salvage as well.

  Cy chuckled. "Yeah, Cap wants her all right, but it's more than money he wants. It's his honor. He left it aboard that ship… and he wants it back."

  "What's Daddy want?" Melissa said, putting a coffee flask next to Lando's elbow.

  "The Star of Empire," Cy replied.

  "Oh, that," Melissa said, instantly bored. "That's a waste of time… but Mommy said to humor him."

  Lando poured a cup of coffee and held it up in a salute. "And we shall. First I'll have a cup of this excellent coffee… and then we're off. Ghost hunters extraordinaire."

  Melissa laughed and the conversation turned mundane.

  But outside, beyond the strength of Junk's hull, the asteroids continued to whirl and dance. A dance as vast as the solar system itself, as precise as the laws that governed it, and as relentless as time. A dance of secrets kept.

  5

  Lando wrinkled his nose. The air smelled of ozone, peat smoke, and animal droppings. Not a pleasant mix, but a real one, and preferable to the recycled stuff aboard ship.

  Stepping onto a new planet never failed to excite him. New sights, new sounds, and, yes, new smells no matter how pungent. All were a part of the newness. All were welcome. A light breeze touched Lando's cheek and he smiled.

  Dista was close to Earth normal, with only a slightly longer day and a touch more gravity. As a result human
s felt quite comfortable and, lured by Imperial land grants, were still arriving. That accounted for the fact that the planet boasted three new spaceports.

  This one, a largely prefab affair located just outside Dista's largest city, looked just like many others all over the empire. A large repulsor-blackened expanse of duracrete, a scattering of grounded ships, and a utilitarian control-maintenance facility. If you've seen one, you've seen 'em all.

  But when visitors stepped out through the spaceport's gates, they took a step backward in time. The effect was so startling that many paused to look around. Lando was no exception. The view was amazing.

  At the same time that high-flying shuttles left streaks across the upper atmosphere, Dib-drawn carts creaked down rutted roads, and peat fires pointed smoky fingers toward the sky.

  "Hey, Pik! Come on! We haven't got all day!"

  The voice belonged to Cap. He and Melissa were a hundred feet up ahead, skillfully sidestepping the dome-shaped piles of Dib dung, and motioning for Lando to hurry.

  Cy was still aboard ship, but both of the Sorensons were dirtside, and eager to reach town. Cap had some business to transact and Melissa wanted to play. Lando waved in response and hurried to catch up.

  It was market day, and that meant a constant stream of foot traffic, Dib-drawn carts, and crawlers moving into town. They carried everything from produce to freshly cut peat. As the vehicles moved they stirred the mud with Dib droppings and sprayed the resulting mixture over everything in sight.

  At first Lando tried to stay clean, but it was a hopeless task, and he soon gave up. By the time Lando caught up with the others he was as muddy and messy as they were.

  A cart squeaked by and sprayed guck on his pants leg. Melissa laughed, Cap looked impatient, and the three of them headed for town.