Star Fall

by David Bischoff

  —Let’s just get there first, shall we? said Cog.

  Twenty-eight—twenty-nine.

  Amber suddenly realized that this was the first time he was actually glad to be in a fracas. An odd, giddy, frightened feeling ... nothing like the inside numbness previous to his numerous hits.

  Thirty.

  He threw it.

  It flew down past the barrier.

  Exploded, a fire flower—a blossom of smoke and stench and destruction.

  If there were any Azinatin screams, they were cut off by the explosion.

  Amber surged up, his own pistol ready, but all he found was dead bodies. Or what remained of them.

  “Okay, chaps,” he instructed. “Don’t let the reinforcements in. We’ve got some drilling work ahead.”

  * * *

  There was no time to wait.

  His temptation now was to go and defend the antimatter device. But that was merely an emotional response ... rationally he knew that the only thing to do now was to escape. The defenses of the device should be sufficient.

  To stay would be to insure failure.

  According to the instruments before him, linked to the main computer, changes were being calculated in the Star Fall’s course.

  That would be easy enough to deal with.

  He dialed in the necessary code. The entire wall of his study opened, revealing long consoles of controls.

  Controls much like those used to guide a starship ...

  Ort Eath walked in and began punching out orders.

  * * *

  Cog-controlled sets of fingers played skillfully over inset keyboards, attempting the complicated feat of veering the Star Fall from its course. Gripping his weapon, feeling useless, Todd bit his lip as he stared up at the various vu-tank fields and 2-D screens glowing with views of space culled from the multitude of cameras harnessed to the hull of the space-liner.

  The stars were many and chill white, like pinpricks in black velvet veiling some greater brightness that surrounded this universe. Couched in this glittery cloth of the vast darkness, lay a sun-drenched moon, coolly coruscating in the eternal night. And beyond, the globe of emerald and cloud-sheaths that was Earth.

  At the speed they were traveling, it would not be long before it loomed, this green and blue womb of the human race, huge in the screens.

  “How long before we get control?” Todd asked under his breath, knowing that his thought was instantaneously transmitted to Cog, who sat within the real-fic computer like a spider in the middle of its far-ranging web.

  —Shortly, Todd. Shortly. Be patient.

  “Even if we can’t stop the antimatter device from going off,” murmured Todd, “we’ve got to get the Star Fall away from Earth.” He patted the air vaguely, almost impotently, toward the screens where the accompanying Terran Naval Convoy seemed to hover serenely about them. Bright-metaled cruisers, all of them decked in flashy military trappings. Todd’s gesture was almost like a wave to them. “Have we broken through to communications yet? We might get help from them. They’re just there, looking dumb. Maybe they could lock a few tractor beams on us, slow us down. We’re going awfully fast.”

  Angharad turned her head. She stood sentry at the door, from beyond which rose a mighty tumult of security officers either attempting to override the controls, to the entrance or blast their way in. The charging nodule of her energy rifle glowed a shimmering magenta. “They‘ve got us beat there.” she answered. “I just asked. Looks like there’s going to be no outgoing messages right now. It all depends on us.”

  “Not a comforting thought,” said Todd aloud, surveying the situation. Somehow Angharad had convinced most of the crew that she was telling the truth.

  “Come on!” cried Angharad, frustration clear in her voice. “Get the lead out, folks!”

  “It’s not exactly like braking a car, you know,” said a second lieutenant. “There are deceleration rockets to fire, retro arrays ... quite complicated.”

  “Just do it!” barked back Angharad angrily, no aspect of her femininity showing. “Before— ”

  It started as a tremor that merely rattled Todd’s teeth.

  It ended with a gut-pounding wrench that slapped Todd and the others to the floor with several gees worth of force.

  In between, Todd Spigot had plenty of time to be bounced about, losing hold of his rifle, and become certain, seeing others fall and somersault around him eyes wide, that something most awful had happened.

  * * *

  A long time ago, it would have taken a forever and a half to get from beyond Pluto’s orbit to Earth. Now, thanks largely to superior engines, stasis fields, and gravity control, it was a short skip and a jump.

  Ensign Carl Mirrnan, secondary Program Maintenance Officer of the Terran Space Guard cruiser Hubert Humphrey III, stared into his small 2-D monitor anchored on his duty desk and almost wished the trip would take longer. The monitor screen was full of the Star Fall, as was the young ensign’s imagination.

  The official welcoming when the great space-liner had broken into normal space had been a dream—an exciting dream. A brief boarding of the ship had spun him into the kind of wonder that space duty, long since palled, once owned. When his leave came through, there was no question of what he intended to do with all the money he’d earned being bored out among the outer planets: spend it for a stay on the Star Fall when it orbited Earth.

  The Hubert Humphrey was one of fifteen heavy-rigged spaceships entrusted to escort—and guard—this gigantic incoming vessel. It was their job to make sure that the boat got into the proper orbital slot and stayed there safely. If anything went wrong—if any crazies somehow messed things up, there would be hell to pay.

  Just to pass the time, Mirman had taken detailed telemetry readings of the Star Fall. A truly marvelous piece of space architecture and engineering ... Mirrnan intended to scrutinize as many schematics of the Star Fall as he could get his mitts on. He scratched absently at his mandatory close-cropped black hair, dreaming of this and that, waiting for things to do.

  Well, there would certainly be enough to do in another hour or less, when the Star Fall, already decelerating quickly, would place itself into its parking orbit.

  Behind him, he heard a yelp of victory from Vinnie Marchek, winning his third backgammon game from Lin Tossle. Mutters and clicks in the cramped room echoed about in the usual claustrophobic manner. If it weren’t for the drugs they gave you, a guy could go bonkers out here, for sure.

  His eyes drifted again to his monitor, wishing vaguely it were a 3-D vu-tank so he could get the full feeling of depth the multileveled starship must offer.

  As he stared at it, a tongue of fire like energy licked out from the hull at the base of a particularly large polyp-shaped protuberance from the main body. Another ... orange-red, it flickered and grew to sketch a blazing outline across the circumference of the rounded peninsula’s base.

  Smoothly, the section of the Star Fall, on a column of brilliancy, eased away from the main body of the starship, a rocket itself. Behind it, lay a huge blackened crater.

  Even as he watched, astounded, it picked up speed, sailing quickly toward the distant glowing orb that was the moon. Briefly it was silhouetted against that light—and then was swallowed up by the dark.

  For a second, there was total silence.

  Then came the sound of the backgammon board and pieces spilling to the metal floor and the blare of an alarm.

  As computer panels lit up, Ensign Mirman had no idea of what was happening. All he knew was that it certainly wasn’t on the schedule of events.

  TWO STREAMS of blood ran from Angharad’s nostrils. The red stuff dripped to the floor and onto her clothes as she struggled up, hands gripped onto a bolted-down chair. Todd reached over to help her; she waved him away. “Status report!” she barked. “Continue operation.”

  The
y were all on the floor—crew and mutiny force alike, in a scatter of battered arms, legs, and torsos. A woman, her western frontier outfit hanging in shreds and tatters, looked up with bewildered eyes. “What’s going on? What am I doing here? Something about saving the Earth. It seemed so important, and I knew exactly what to do. But now ...”

  A realization struck Todd.

  “Cog!” he almost screamed.

  No answer.

  He swiveled toward Angharad, trying to raise her on the artificial telepathy network. No response. But he could read her emotion well enough in her wide-opened eyes.

  “It’s up to us now. We’ve lost control,” she said, tersely. She grabbed ahold of one of the crew members, jerked him up. “Okay. Back to work!”

  Dazed, the shaggy-haired man settled in a control desk and examined readings as he tentatively jiggled a few switches. Astonishment clear in his expression, he turned back to face Angharad. “There’s nothing here!” he almost whispered.

  What?” Angharad’s face was almost as livid red as her hair. Keeping her weapon ready, she glanced down at the console.

  “There’s no response! Either it’s simply not working or something’s put an override on this control room.”

  “That’s impossible,” Angharad snapped. “This is the main control room, no? The goddamned Bridge. Maybe just a few circuits are blown.” But her eyes betrayed that she was just mouthing hopeless words.

  Fear worse than any Todd had ever known before welled within him. Before, he had a sense of security, with Cog in command. But everything had gone haywire and everything seemed now in confusion.

  “I can’t figure how he did it,” said Angharad. “But he’s got us. He’s cut off control. Put some kind of barrier between us and Cog,” she told Todd. “And in one fell swoop our army is gone.” She gestured at the bewildered people wearing the now-useless Disbelief Suspenders. “I don’t know what happened, but it did, and we’ve got to keep going.”

  “But what are we going to do?” said Todd, almost panicking. “Everything is dead in here. And that wrenching—that sudden G-force. What was it?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m afraid I’ve an awful suspicion—” Then something caught her attention. Captain MacNeil. Wobbling, he stood by the doorway control. “No!” cried Angnarad, Whipping her pistol to bear.

  But too late.

  Already MacNeil’s hand was twisting the door control, cycling it open, no doubt expecting security troops to rush in.

  The door opened perhaps six inches before the mechanism jammed.

  Todd had the brief glimpse of raw space; stars and nothingness ... MacNeil had time to scream once before, in a cloud of white vapor, he was pushed out by the air seeking to fill the vacuum.

  The rapid decompression brought a severe pain to Todd’s eardrums—like nails driving into his head—before the automatic emergency door slammed across the hole. His ears buzzing, Todd heard the air duct regulators straining to restore the air pressure.

  “My dear sweet God,” said Angharad. She turned to Todd.

  “He must have separated part of the Star Fall from the main body. He’s escaping. He never intended to destroy himself too! All this time I was wrong ...”

  Todd was on the verge of panic. Everything had been planned so well—it appeared to be crumbling to ashes in their hands.

  “There’s obviously only one thing to do, isn’t there?” he said, staring ahead, hardly noticing the blank expression of the stunned assembly on the Bridge. “If, indeed, we’re on the section of the Star Fall that has broken off.”

  Angharad nodded and indicated the far exit from the chamber. “Ort Eath’s rooms are this way. Grab another gun.”

  * * *

  —Alas, I am not a god, said Cog, the thought-impulse sounding much weaker, as though lacking confidence. —The ways of this universe are left pretty much to themselves. Perhaps I was not meant to interfere.

  “Oh, get off the fatalism,” said Amber, adjusting a lever on the machine with which they hoped to pierce the force shield. “I’ve had enough of that to fill several dozen lifetimes.”

  —I’ve been much too overconfident, returned Cog. —This, I suppose, is natural in a being so young.

  “How old are you, Cog?” There. The neutralizer was aimed and ready. Amber had used them before. Generally they worked. But then, those were manufactured by experts. They’d put this bastard together all on their lonesomes.

  —By your system, about 14,000 years, returned Cog.

  “Gosh. Just a baby.” Far down the hall flashes and fire thundered like summer lightning. But they were holding the security forces back, thank God. “Well, no time to waste.”

  —No. Fifteen minutes till detonation, I fear.

  “How about the Guard?”

  —They will never reach here in time. And what if they do?

  “Just you and me, huh, Cog?”

  —Just you and me.

  Amber snorted. “You know, at this point in my life, nothing could make me happier.” He hit the neutralizer switch and the mechanism commenced to buzz loudly. “Well, here goes.”

  The previously invisible force screen abruptly shifted to crimson with directed energy. Amber muttered a curse, and then upped the power all the way.

  “Thirty seconds till the generator on the other side burns out. I can’t keep up this intensity long. Now, once we get through, Cog, you know what we’ve got to do?”

  —Yes. Turn off the detonator.

  “I know that. But how?”

  A momentary silence. —I’m not terribly sure, Amber.

  “Great.”

  —I’ve structured several possibilities from the slim amount of information that Angharad Shepherd has provided us. We’ve been over that many times.

  “Well, if we get in, there won’t be a great deal of time to futz around, now, will there?”

  —No. Quite right. I will prepare myself to analyze the situation as soon as it presents itself.

  The shivering energy force suddenly disappeared. Amber adroitly stepped though the place it had been, carrying his bag of makeshift tools he’d scrounged over the weeks. “Suddenly my talent for breaking into places is coming in handy again.” He addressed himself to the locking mechanism with suction cups, gauges, and several odd-shaped boxes. “Could you get me some back-up rifles aimed? I’ve got the feeling there might be one or two Azinatins wailing in there.”

  —Surely.

  “You know, if I wasn’t a pro at this, my hands would probably be shaking.”

  —They were, Amber. Until I took the liberty of placing another ten percent personality overlay on you.

  At first, Amber was surprised. But somehow, the information pleased him.

  Indeed, it pleased him very much.

  * * *

  They didn’t make it very far on their own.

  To begin with, most of the intership transportation was out. After wasted minutes of searching, Todd finally found an intergrav lift still in service heading to the topmost of this new starship—where they estimated Ort Eath’s rooms to be.

  Halfway up—or across ... it was difficult to keep tabs on what direction the intergrav boxes went—the lift jerked to a halt. The abrupt stop threw Angharad against the padded siding, knocking her gun from her hand. Todd kept a grip on his own weapon, but for all the good it did he might as well have dropped it too. When the doors whisked open, they found themselves staring at a row of laser rifles fronting a row of scowling Azinatins,

  Obviously, Ort Eath had things pretty much under control in this newly launched starship of his.

  Todd wished he could do the subjective time trip again—perhaps that would have helped. But Cog was gone—along with a portion of his powers—and it was Cog who had engineered that. Todd had managed to learn a good deal of the other remaining potentialities of his
body, particularly the use of its tremendous spurts of strength. But without the part that Cog inhabited, it was woefully lacking. Attempting to rush the security officers now would be foolish; if they had wanted to kill them, they would have fired immediately. Obviously, they were to be allowed to live.

  For a while.

  Todd raised his hands after he’d dropped his weapon.

  “Well, they’ll take us where we want to go, anyway.” said Angharad.

  “How do you know? Doesn’t Ort Eath consider that risky?”

  “Oh, I’m sure the creature wants us to share in his victory—that’s his style. As for danger, believe me, he will take precautions.” She frowned grimly—a glimmer of moist acknowledgment of defeat in her eye.

  They were quickly ushered into a brightly-lit room, where Angharad was fitted with a body-brace, pinning her arms against her sides. Todd was fitted with two, one about his torso, and the other about his legs. Even with his considerable power, there was no way now he could hope to escape.

  They literally wheeled Todd to the lift, dragging Angharad along. Quickly, they rose to Ort Eath’s chambers.

  The door sighed open, as though with resignation.

  Ort Eath sat on a specially fitted couch. He was wiping off his arm. The rag he used was clotted red with blood. Little sanitation robots were industriously cleaning the tattered, smeared mess all about.

  Propped beside Eath was the orgabox, still intact—it too had escaped the assassination attempt. Stretched out filling the whole of the wall facing Eath was the vast 2-D screen Ort Eath had showed Todd—but in this case, instead of SIMULATION, the descriptive lettering in the box adjacent read, REAL.

  Floating in the screen was a magnified image of Earth. Todd felt as though he could almost reach out and touch it, so evocative an image it was ... swirling white-gray clouds layering swaths of brown-green that would be the continental masses, and turquoise blue and green, the wrapping sea.