The Rim Rebels

by Zellmann, William

  "I hate to do this to the kid," Jirik replied guiltily. "I feel like a real sonofabitch. But Via, well, I can't explain it, but I've never felt so alive, so happy, and yet so guilty. I need your help, Bran. I don't want the kid to feel that I've betrayed him."

  Bran snorted derisively. "You haven't betrayed anyone! You deserve every moment of happiness that you can wring out of this relationship. I'll handle Tor. You and Via grab all the joy that you can from each other!"

  Jirik's concern over Tor's reaction to his affair with Via receded into the background as they approached the next stop.

  Evidently, word had preceded them, for when they emerged, plague beacon activated, there were no ships in the vicinity, but three picket boats were spaced at intervals near their likely emergence point.

  Mere seconds after their emergence, the comm came to life. "Plague ship K'laakriith, This is System Traffic Control. Do you read?"

  Via activated her comm. "This is K'laakriith. You appear to have been expecting us. Have you been apprised of our situation?"

  The image in the comm screen nodded. "We have been told that you are K'jinnth, which is confirmed by your ident beacon, and that your medical problems are confined to nonhumans only. Is that correct?"

  It was Via's turn to nod. "Yes, sir. All the nonhumans aboard are ill. I and the other human crewman aboard are attempting to return to K'jinnth to obtain treatment for the K'jinnth crewmen. We ask only that we be permitted to recalibrate and jump as quickly as possible."

  The other man paused. "We have a xenobiologist available who is familiar with K'jinnthian physiology. Could he be of assistance over the comm?"

  "I thank you, sir," Via replied, "But before he became ill, my Captain ordered me to forego human assistance. I'm afraid that he is a bit xenophobic – feels that no non-K'jinnth could be trusted to treat him or the other K'jinnth crewmen." As a frown appeared on the man's face, Via continued. "I apologize most humbly, sir. Believe me, I would like nothing better than for a human to cure them, so I could shut off this damned plague beacon. But, if I attempt any treatment under the direction of your xenobiologist, my Captain would have me ejected from the airlock. And, by K'jinnth standards, he would be entitled to do so. Please, sir, I'm already risking my life jumping around the galaxy in a ship with its plague beacon running. Plague ships have been blasted before. Please don't compound my risk by making me attempt treatment which I have been ordered not to undertake."

  An expression of faint distaste crossed the man's face as Via's words and tone had become pleading. "Don't worry," He said, "I won't make you disobey your captain. You may recalibrate, but do not attempt to maneuver for jump without permission. Is that clear?"

  "Yes, sir, Perfectly." Via's obvious relief at the man's decision caused the faint distaste to appear again on the man's face. "I will be certain to mention your consideration to my Captain upon his recovery," Via added.

  The man looked wary. "You don't think that the illness is life-threatening, then?"

  Via shrugged. "My Captain didn't, sir. I don't know enough to judge. All that I can do is try to get them to K'jinnth as I've been ordered. Shall I hail you when my computations are completed?"

  "Yes," the man replied. "In the meantime, you are directed to kill all motion relative to this system's primary, and do not attempt any other maneuvering without permission. Is that understood?"

  "Yes, sir," Via replied. "Thank you for your consideration and assistance."

  Traffic Control signed off, and Via busied herself with her recalibration. Some two hours later, she hailed Traffic Control again.

  The same man's visage appeared on the screen. "Have you completed your recal?" At Via's affirmative, the man continued, "Transmit your maneuvering data to us. Be advised, once it has been verified, the data will be retransmitted to the picket boats escorting you. Should you deviate from your programmed maneuvers they have orders to open fire."

  Via transmitted the data, accompanied by assurances of her appreciation for the man's help.

  When the man called Via to notify her that she could now maneuver on her programmed course, his disdain for Via's exaggerated obsequiousness was obvious. Via ignored it, however and thanked the man effusively. Less than four hours later, they jumped, to Via's great relief.

  "I'm sorry that you had to act like someone's whipped dog," Jirik assured Via once they were supralight, "But it was very effective."

  Via shrugged, but her expression was irritated. "It wasn't a lot of fun," she admitted. "I couldn't think of any other way to refuse medical advice without making him suspicious. This way he thinks that I'm a coward in terror of my Captain, but he won't wonder about us; at least not until the 'K'laakriit' suddenly disappears without a trace."

  Jirik clapped her on the back. "Well, it was a hell of a good idea, and you carried it off beautifully. If you ever want to change your occupation to actress, you'll get a good recommendation from me!"

  For the first time since they had emerged, Via's brilliant grin flashed. "No, thanks, Captain. What you saw wasn't brilliant acting; it was sheer desperation and panic!"

  When they emerged at their final "plague stop," they regarded it as nearly routine. After the first tense few minutes ascertaining that they had been expected, the recal and maneuvering went smoothly and without incident.

  Shortly after they went supralight on the last leg of their journey to Alpha, Tor visited Jirik in his cabin.

  "Uh, sir, I'd like to t-talk to you about Via," he began uncomfortably.

  His discomfort was matched by Jirik's. "C'mon in, Tor. I've been meaning to talk with you about her. I, uh, hell, I don't know what to say, except that I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to happen, it just did."

  Tor was blushing furiously and shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. "I, uh, I know, sir. I've been talking to Bran, uh, Mr. Fergson, and he's helped me see some things. I-I guess I knew all along that Via wasn't for me. I just wanted to tell you that I don't blame you. It's just that I love her so much!" tears welled up in the teenager's eyes

  A wave of sympathy welled up inside Jirik. "I know you do. So does Via. I'm really sorry that we've done this to you. Someday you'll meet the girl that you really love. I know that doesn't help now, but I promise you, it will happen!"

  Tor shrugged embarrassedly. "W-Well, I j-just wanted you to know that I d-don't resent you for what happened, Captain. I hope w-we can get back to our normal relationship."

  Jirik stepped forward and grabbed Tor's shoulders. "Tor, that took more guts than anything that anyone's done on this whole trip. Thank you. Damn! You're going to be a hell of a spacer!"

  Tor flushed with pleasure and embarrassment, and unconsciously straightened with pride.

  All hands set about making the "K'laakriit" disappear, and the Bonny Lass reappear. They spent nearly the whole jump putting the ship to rights and erasing all traces of their plague beacon scheme. Since Alpha housed a sizable Patrol base, they anticipated no pirate trouble. When they emerged, they did notice an unusual amount of Patrol activity, apparently in anticipation of the possible appearance of the alien plague ship, but no undue problems or delays materialized as they completed the complicated arrangements required for docking and unloading at such a busy port.

  As with most Empire planets, landing was unnecessary. A Sector Capitol, Alpha maintained a huge space station to handle its interstellar trading activity, one equipped to meet almost any trade or repair requirement, including controlled-environment areas for aliens who required them. By the time Jirik eased the Lass into her assigned berth with gentle nudges of her steering jets, arrangements had been completed for offloading and storing her cargo, for repair crews to recoat her hull, for fueling, and even for Jirik to complete delivery arrangements for his cargo.

  The Customs examination was cursory, the agent merely checking her manifests to assess duties. The Port Captain who followed him aboard seemed more suspicious.

  "What happened to your hull, Captain?" The man asked after intr
oducing himself.

  "We had to run through part of a nebula to escape some pirates," Jirik responded. "We were carrying a letter of credit for twenty-five million credits, and word leaked out. We were dodging pirates all the way. Why?"

  "There's been a plague ship jumping around the Sector," the man explained. "The ship is described as DIN Class, like yours, and is reported to have a polished or plated hull." The man's tone told Jirik that he wasn't fooled, but that he found the situation more humorous than scandalous. "Of course," He continued, "She's an alien ship, so it couldn't have been yours. Twenty-five million, eh? That's a lot of pirate bait. Bet it's been an exciting voyage. I assume that the credits are already in the Planetary Bank?" At Jirik's nod, he continued, "I think that I'd get my hull recoated as quickly as possible, though, if I were you. You wouldn't want to be confused with a plague ship!"

  Jirik nodded, then turned the conversation to unloading and storage arrangements for his cargo of heavy metals. The Port Captain left a few minutes later, a broad grin on his face.

  "We didn't fool that one for a minute!" Bran's voice made Jirik jump. "He knows we were the plague ship, and he's hoping we get away with it."

  "I do too," Jirik grunted. "Where the hell did you come from? How long have you been listening?"

  Bran looked embarrassed. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop, Captain. Engineering is all secured, and I thought I'd walk around the station a bit, or maybe even go down to the planet. Care to join me?"

  Jirik was surprised. Bran's liberties were usually solitary affairs involving bookstores and libraries. He hardly ever invited one of his shipmates to accompany him, and Jirik was sorry to have to refuse.

  "Sorry, Bran," he replied, "But I've still got a lot to do, I've got to get that work crew busy before somebody else connects us with K'laakriit, and I've got to take care of the formalities of signing Via off."

  "I've been wanting to talk to you about that, Captain," Bran said reluctantly. He glanced around, and then led Jirik out of the ship's lock and down the ramp to the busy station corridor.

  "You said that Tomys is already here, right, Captain?" Bran asked over the din in the corridor.

  Jirik shrugged. "Should be. He was coming direct, on a Fleet Courier. Why?"

  "Because that means that any Astrogator that you sign on will probably be a spy working for Tomys. I think that you ought to try to keep Via on. Offer to let her deadhead back once Valt signs back on, or something."

  Jirik sighed. "There's nothing I'd like better than to keep her on, Bran. You know how I feel about her. Besides, she's a better Astrogator and a better shipmate than Valt, and after what we've been through, I trust her implicitly. But there's no way she can stay, even with guaranteed passage back in from the Rim. If she goes back out there at all, she'll be in serious danger. Remember all those spy-eyes that she didn't plant? Remember the complete report that she didn't make? The terrorists would kill her in a microsecond. No, much as I hate to, I have to sign her off here. In fact, she wants to sign off as soon as possible."

  Bran looked disappointed. "Why? I thought that you two had a great thing together. Even if she can't go back to the rim, we're going to be here several months. Why end your relationship so soon?"

  Jirik shrugged again. "She thinks that it would be better. She says that the longer she stays, the harder it'll be to say goodbye. Hell, I can't force her to stay. I'm sure going to miss her, though, and on more than one level!"

  Bran's face took on a sad look. "I'm sorry to hear it, Captain. I almost wish that we could buy out Valt's share and sign her on permanently. She's good for you, and good for the Lass. I guess she's right, though. She'll have to sign off here anyway. We can't expect her to risk her life again by going back to the rim. About her replacement, though. What do you want to do about him?"

  Jirik's prompt response told Bran that Jirik had been thinking about this very point. "First," He replied, "I want you to warn Tor. Whoever we sign on, we're going to have to assume he works for Tomys. That means we won't be able to talk about the situation once he comes aboard. Then, we'll just have to carry on as though we hadn't a care in the universe; so innocent that we're sickening. Make sure that Tor knows that avoiding the man would be as suspicious as admitting to Actionist sympathies. Spies tend to be paranoid, and regard anything out of the ordinary as suspicious. Hell, they regard the ordinary as suspicious."

  Bran nodded. "Don't worry, Captain, I'll coach him while we're here. I'll also have him jettison that Actionist propaganda he brought aboard."

  "Crap!" Jirik admitted, "I'd forgotten about that stuff. Just do your best to make sure that the kid stays out of trouble. I don't want him to get on the wrong side of a Class I Agent. Hell, I don't want me to get on the wrong side of one. But," he added, "I may not have a choice. I want you to meet me at the restaurant on this level of the station at twenty hundred, local. I want to brief you on what I'm doing, and what's happening."

  Bran's head jerked. "What do you mean? What are you doing?"

  Jirik clapped Bran on the shoulder. "Don't worry. I think I know what I'm doing. Just meet me at 2000."

  Bran stared at Jirik. "All right," he replied suspiciously, "I'll be there. Try not to get yourself assassinated before then!"

  Jirik laughed aloud. "I'll try. Now, get your ass out of here. I've got a lot to do!"

  Via was waiting when he returned aboard. "I'm ready to sign off, Captain," the woman said. As Jirik's face fell, she continued gently, "I'm sorry, Jirik. You know that I'd love to stay with you. But the longer we're together, the more in love with you I become. We both know that I can't go back to the rim with you. Our relationship had to end on Alpha, and we both knew it. I've got to go while I still have the courage to do it!"

  Jirik frowned. "Damn it, I don't want it to end like this; in fact, I don't want it to end at all! There must be a way! Stay with us until we have to lift off. Maybe we can figure something out."

  She shook her head slowly. "I can't, Jirik. I know what you're going to suggest: that I wait here until you get back from the rim. I can't do that. For one thing, we both know that you may not be coming back from the rim. Class I spooks have a reputation for using people up. We also have to know for sure that we have more than just a passing shipboard romance. We need some time apart. I'm going to grab a berth on the first inbound ship that I can find. When you get back from the rim, if you get back, if you still want me, use the spacer network to leave messages with the Guild on as many planets as possible. I'll be checking with them at every planetfall. If you can work it out, pass the word, and I swear I'll jump the fastest ship I can find back to you. But, for now, I have to sign off, and I have to do it now!"

  Jirik nodded in defeat. "All Right. How about giving me about an hour to get the work crew started on the hull coating? Then, I'll ride down to the planet with you. I've got some business at the Spacer's Guild office myself."

  The work crew supervisor appeared half an hour later, and Jirik told the man what he wanted, including a close examination of the hull for plates thinned beyond safety by the abrasive nebular dust. The man was openly curious about how such damage occurred, but easily accepted Jirik's explanation of flight from pirates.

  As the work crew suited up and cycled through the airlock, Jirik returned to the Lass to accompany Via to the surface.

  Via was waiting anxiously. "I've been thinking, skipper. I've got to know; are you guys going to be in any danger or trouble because of me?"

  Jirik shrugged. "I don't see why we should be. After all, how were we to know that you were a spy? If Cony asks, we'll just play dumb. As for Tomys, I've wanted to talk to you about him for a couple of reasons. First, he or one of his agents may try to question you. My advice is to tell him the entire truth, except for the plague ship stunt. Don't try to lie to them, or con them. Tomys didn't get to be a Class I agent by being stupid or gullible. And, don't try to lie to them about the plague beacon stunt; either tell them the truth, or just refuse to talk about it. I would pre
fer that you just didn't talk about it; I'm not really concerned that he'll file charges against us, but I don't want to give him something to hold over our heads."

  Via nodded. "I understand. I suspect that the other reason you wanted to talk about Tomys was because you think he'll want to grill me about the terrorists in the Actionist faction."

  At Jirik's nod, she continued, "Well, that was one of the reasons that I wanted to talk to you before I signed off." She reached into a pocket and tossed two memory crystals onto the cabin's miniscule desk. "I recorded these during the last couple of jumps. They're a complete report of all of my contacts with the terrorists, including names, as many dates as I can remember, and where I thought that each one fell in the terrorist hierarchy. I made two copies. One is for you, and you can give the other to Tomys; maybe it'll keep him off my back."

  Jirik nodded. "I hope so. Thanks for making me a copy. That damned spook wouldn't even tell me my own name, and I might need to know when I'm talking to a member of this terrorist outfit." His tone when mentioning the terrorists was full of disdain.

  Via looked concerned. "Don't underestimate them, Jirik. I know that right now they're so inept as to be almost funny, but they're as serious as a blaster burn, and they're learning fast. Watch out for Cony. He's sharp, he's always suspicious, and he's deadly. Remember what happened to your Astrogator."

  "You're right," Jirik replied apologetically, "They seem so much like Trivid-comedy conspirators that it's easy to dismiss them; but what happened to Valt wasn't funny."

  The two left the Lass and headed for the shuttle bay to catch a surface shuttle. Less than an hour later, they landed on the surface of Alpha, and went to the Spacer Guild office, where Via formally signed off the Lass, and Jirik recorded a glowing performance report on the Astrogator.