Chapter Fourteen
Five days after the incident on the Frin’ral ship, the planet called Kendrick’s Vision swam in the vu-screens of the Starbow. The Vision, though it was the fourth planet of its class G sun, had a regular orbit and axial tilt that kept the seasons fairly uniform, and was remarkably like Earth in other aspects. It was a gorgeous world, a jewel of a planet.
The Vision was a place that knew the Starbow and its crew; knew and welcomed them. Freeman Jonst had tilted many a brew with Captain Tars Northern and kept him supplied from the mammoth stock of rare liquors from many planets, in return for news of Federation activity, Free World intercommunication, and the odd bit of contraband.
So the crew felt safe here, feeding the planet’s defense satellites their usual code then settling into a wide, leisurely orbit of this pleasant planet of browns and blues, whites and greens smeared across the globe like paint on a palette.
The Underspace trip had been uneventful, the crew going about its usual business only slightly more anxious than usual, due to the nature of their quest. Still, in the lives they had accepted, the unexpected was a part of day-to-day events, and this extra bit of excitement was welcomed by all. Except Dansen Jitt, whose moroseness and prophesies of doom had increased to the point that Northern was no longer amused by them; he ordered Jitt to speak only when spoken to, or if he had something of an astrogational nature to say.
Laura made daily visits to speak to the copies of her brother Cal. She confided to Northern that she could only take so much of them—knowing they were not truly her brothers and their memories not the result of experience—but that she obtained a curious kind of satisfaction in being with them. Sometimes, these cyborg clones claimed sensations of contact with their progenitor; but Laura wasn’t sure whether to believe them. The sensations carried no images with them, nor anything at all concrete. They were mere unsubstantiated claims. Their room had already been wired to pick up any indication of signals emanating or entering, and nothing was picked up. Apparently, this phenomenon was localized to the individual cyborgs. No alarm was taken.
Laura had also taken the opportunity to mingle with the crew, getting to know each of the members more individually, as much as her awkward social abilities would allow.
The term “motley crew” seemed custom-made for this bunch. Its thirty-odd components were quite odd indeed. There were individuals from all sections of the Human Zone, all with radically different philosophies and viewpoints, yet all united in this common cause of rebellion against the insidious cultural enslavement exercised by the Federation over its planets and the Federation’s implicit military threat to the autonomy of separated Free Worlds.
Originally, Laura learned, the distances and time between planets had allowed those farther away to rebel easily and sever ties with the Human Federated Empire. However, in the past hundred years, improvements on the Stardrives that carried vessels through the mathematical improbabilities of Underspace had improved remarkably. Where once the voyage had taken months and even years, the most distant colonies were now only weeks away from Earth. The Federation’s weaponry and technology had increased also, while the non-united and often hermitlike independent worlds lagged behind, their fleets and defense systems comparatively primitive next to the Federation’s newer weaponry.
This was the common dream, in one version or another, of all the crewmembers: to establish some kind of loose alliance between all the Free Worlds as a defense against the Federation. In the meantime they intended to aid the Starbow, preying on Federation shipping, as best they could with their particular specialties. The Free Worlds also relied on the Starbow’s analysis of new Federation technology. Once allied, the Free Worlds could build starships of equal power and ability, thus protecting their planets from both Jaxdron and the Federation.
This seemed a worthy goal to Laura. She certainly had lost all love and loyalty to the Federation, with its glib and smarmy Friends promising opportunity and security yet secretly controlling practically everything for the Greater Good of the State. Even the sort of rebellion Cal indulged in was merely slack in the leash, something in human nature that was expected and accommodated by the Federation lords of psychology, ultimately to be subtly crushed.
Aboard the Starbow Laura had the opportunity to think and talk about a great deal, and all the crew had remarked to one another about her sincere interest in overcoming her former doubt and cynicism. As for her abrasiveness and general bad manners, the crewmembers noticed she seemed more relaxed and friendly, in a coarse kind of way; less confrontational, certainly. Her sparring matches with Captain Northern continued but they became much more playful and affectionate. It was clear to everyone that each of them enjoyed getting one-up on the other, be the jokes verbal or practical.
However, despite her requests there were still parts of the Starbow that remained off limits to her. This sense of mystery would have troubled her more, and perhaps she might have done something about it, if she were not both preoccupied by the Cal clones and constrained by her word to keep her nose clean.
Dr. Mish had been especially interested in the clones, analyzing the copies of Cal Shemzak to ascertain how the Jaxdron had manufactured them. He admitted reluctantly that there were elements involved in their structure which, while apparently innocuous enough, were a mystery to him and significantly more complex than his squad of robots named after famous military leaders. It had been his voice that had quieted the strong suggestions that these copies be destroyed, in case they were dangerous. Here, he claimed, was the handiwork of the Jaxdron which might present clues as to their science, perhaps even their natures. Why toss this chance away, especially when there was no indication whatsoever that they were dangerous?
As for her promise to be loyal to the Starbow, its crew, and its cause, Laura had to consider something she’d experienced before. With duty to the Federation, it wasn’t a matter of loyalty, it was conditioning and lack of choice. When she had thrown her lot in with this curious bunch of her own free will, something seemed to shift within her. Aligning on a course that made her feel as if she were part of something special, not simply alone and struggling for her own survival.
It made her feel good, more whole. It gave her an intimation of the reason for society, much as her promises to Cal had given her a feeling of family, a notion the Federation abhorred.
The Starbow crew was a family of sorts, and that notion appealed to her. Families seemed to be important and valuable in the universe, yet hard to achieve and maintain. They seemed a heritage from the past, a stepladder to the future. But most of all, they seemed a cooperative way of dealing with that very strange and troublesome period: the present.
Beyond all that, there seemed to be an emptiness inside her that could only be filled by other people. Her early years had been filled with Cal, her brother. But then, when they were separated, she tried to tell herself that she needed no one, not even Cal; that she was self-reliant and hard and cold through and through; that what was left of her softer, more vulnerable emotions had been thoroughly protected and assigned to her caring for her brother.
Now, though, Laura was starting to have positive feelings about other people. It frightened her, dredging up cold memories of aloneness, isolation.
Captain Northern had picked up on this thawing of Laura’s attitude, and while sharing coffee the morning before their arrival at Kendrick’s Vision, he had commented on it.
“When you jumped aboard our ship, my dear, you were one brawly, feisty lady—even when your fur wasn’t wet.” He looked at her thoughtfully, coffee steam hazing his eyes, particularly greenish now. “You’ve calmed down quite a bit. I didn’t know you had this kind of reserve in you.”
Laura grinned. “Reserve? Goddammit, what do you mean by that? Just because I’m not so aggressive?”
Northern leaned back in his chair, his face assuming a calm, relaxed blankness. “Well, you’re certain
ly letting us see another side of your character, you must admit that. Actually, I think we’re good for you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she said, bridling, on guard instantly.
His expression grew warmer and Laura was again amazed at the man’s quixotic, surprising qualities. He was a chameleon of moods, and yet this calm openness registered as quite sincere. “It’s like that aboard this ship, Laura. It’s not just you. In the past year we’ve acquired perhaps seven or eight new crewmembers, and they’ve had experiences similar to yours.”
“How do you know what my experiences here are?” Laura demanded, though without rancor. “Have you got some sort of mind-reader?”
“Oh, no. It’s just that when we encounter most of the people who eventually become part of our number, they tend to be suspicious, cold individuals, as you were. You see, we all tend to assume at most parts of our lives that we’re lonely victims of a cold, unfeeling universe.” Casually, the Captain gazed off at the lounge’s panoramic vu-plate, which showed a spectacular image of a nebula: a shower of stars, bathed in bold white, crimson, and cerulean. “And who can blame us? But you see, when as a group we see that we all feel this way, it becomes a kind of bond. Despite the variety of experiences and character idiosyncrasies, the wealth of common experience, shared experience, gives the very comforting and moving feeling of oneness and purpose. It’s quite fulfilling, and I expect that you’re feeling something of that, and I’m happy you are because you are certainly a welcome addition to the bunch.”
Laura eyed him suspiciously. “Why do I get the distinct impression you’re being condescending?”
“Who? Me?” Northern cried in mock alarm, his expression unreadable again.
“I just don’t get you, Northern. Sometimes you’re real friendly, sometimes you’re not. Sometimes you play games, sometimes you don’t. What are you really up to, anyway?”
Northern chuckled sadly. “Moods, Laura. Perhaps just moods.” He stood and made a dramatic sweep of his arm. “Or perhaps I like the concept of roles. All the worlds are stages, and I’m a repertory actor, mayhap.” His face clouded over. “And then again, Laura Shemzak, perhaps I just don’t know, and perhaps you shouldn’t even ask.”
Laura shrugged and saluted. “Whatever you say, great leader. I’m not that intrigued, anyway.”
She was, but she wasn’t going to divulge any of her feelings to this joker, she thought angrily. Deep inside, though, she wished she could, and pushed that thought back immediately.
“I hope you won’t need me for your bar stop on this Kendrick’s Vision place, because I have other things to do,” she said grumpily.
“I had no intention of asking you, my dear,” Northern said, smiling again at the mention of the word bar. “I know how you feel on the subject of our quest for your missing brother, but I assure you, it will all work out for the best in the end.”
That was debatable, Laura thought, gloom descending. Nothing ever really worked out the way you hoped it would. You just had to grit your teeth and take whatever life tossed your way, using whatever ways possible to cushion the blows.
As she left the room, she absently touched the place on her abdomen that concealed her drug dispenser. Everybody had to have something, she thought. Captain Northern has his drink … and I have my—
A light shudder passed through her, but she shrugged it off.
Laura was in the room with the two Cal clones when the Starbow reached Kendrick’s Vision, passing through its defense satellites using a code reserved just for its private visits. She was having a very pleasant three-way game of cards with them, chatting amicably about the past and possible futures, when Captain Northern, along with Silver Zenyo and Crewman Arbst Nichol shuttled down to the planet’s surface.
Laura could not realize how quickly the Starbow contingent would run into trouble. For even though her clone brothers appeared both gentle and benign, they were beginning to change. And before long, they’d mutate into something else.
Into what they really were.
Chapter Fifteen
Tars Northern never tired of planetfall. Now, as he piloted the shuttle down toward the brown and gray continent that held Shiva, capital city to Kendrick’s Vision, two crewmembers by his side in formchairs, he relished the roller-coaster sensations, the swaths of color and exhilaration. He wondered if this was how Laura Shemzak must feel in her blip-ship, a sense of abandon combined with a simultaneous joy of riding something almost alive.
The fact that he was going to see a friend made it all the more fun.
“Whoo-eee!” he said, dipping the boat’s nose at a steeper angle than necessary. The force shield glowed red from friction with the thin atmosphere. An extra half G slammed the riders back into their sensor cushions.
Silver Zenyo cursed in a most indelicate manner for such a delicate-looking lady. “Northern, what are you trying to do, make this shuttle into a kitchen appliance?”
“Can’t I have a little fun, Silver? It’s not very often that I get out, you know.” His eyes flicked her way a moment. “Sorry if I mussed your hair. I know you want it nice for Freeman.”
That was the principal reason Silver had asked to come along. She and Freeman Jonst had enjoyed a romantic alliance the last time the Starbow had stopped at Kendrick’s Vision. Not that she would have time to indulge herself in anything heavy this visit; their time was too short. But Northern knew that she did want to see him. She had considered staying on Kendrick’s Vision with him last year; Northern was not sure why she hadn’t.
Silver Zenyo was an odd one. The ship’s mystery woman, Northern liked to call her. That she was beautiful no one could deny. She had a blend of smooth and sharp in her features that struck one first with their form, then barbed the gazer upon her mascara-dark eyes, like depthless jewels a-twinkle from their own peculiar lights within. With the captain’s permission, she had designed a variation of the neutral gray epauletted basic uniform of the Starbow crew. Hers had red trim and tucks and creases emphasizing her slender, perfectly proportioned body. Her hair, a beautiful wealth of blond curls, was more an explicit part of her statement than a mere frame or ornament to her features.
One sexy lady, Northern thought, but he’d steered well clear. There was a danger in her eyes besides the mystery. True, this was part of her intriguing erotic flavor. Northern liked his danger as much as the next adventurer. No, the danger was more a kind of controlled frenzy inside her, a hunger for something that was not innocent, which seemed all consuming.
Still, despite his misgivings, Northern found the woman to be an exceptionally competent, sometimes even brilliant, crewmember. It was Silver Zenyo who masterminded the methodology of vessel looting. She programmed the robots to be quick and effective—and often went along, seemingly for the joy of it.
Silver Zenyo claimed she was from Beta Canopus, where the Federation had actually stepped in and squashed the independence of the Mendric colony because of the strategic qualities of the planet, and because it was within easy swatting distance. Her story was that she had stolen a ship and become an independent merchant and occasional pirate among the trade of the Free Worlds, limiting her piracy to Federation vessels. She had encountered Northern when her ship, the Princeling, and the Starbow were both preying upon the same Federation trader, a particularly ripe plum laden with exotic spices. The Princeling had run afoul of the trader’s modern defense array. Northern had rescued her, wondering how the hell a solitary woman in a Class Five Scout could wage an effective pirate career. A lengthy interview answered that question: she was a hardware expert who knew the ins and outs of every Federation vessel, be it trader or fighter, like a top medical doctor knew the human body. She knew how to open one up quick and suck out the juice. In other words, she was just so damned good that Northern had to change his notion about setting her down on the nearest Free World to make her own way. She was too blasted valuable to
let her slip through his fingers.
So, despite the vagueness of her background story, he asked her to become a crewmember of the Starbow. Her apprenticeship was spectacularly successful, and so she was asked to stay on. Which she did because, she said, she could fight the Federation this way and lay up a nice store of wealth for her declining years. Buy some planet, she said; have enough loot to buy her own beautiful paradise. She was a good officer, loyal, tart, cool, and she did her job well.
But there was something more to her—something she wasn’t coughing up—and while it always intrigued Northern, no one had found out if she indeed was hiding anything. Silver, after all, seemed a good and faithful member of their motley family. Her mystery was merely her particular idiosyncrasy, perhaps. Everyone had their private secrets. God knows I’ve got enough of them, Northern thought.
He turned his attention fully upon the exhilarating but tricky piloting of their shuttle down to the surface of Kendrick’s Vision. Maybe good old Freeman would know more.
The flowery scent of Silver’s perfume teased him all the way down.
When they neared Shiva, Northern turned to Arbst Nichol, who manned the navigational sensors and was a fantastic lander of shuttles in various sorts of non-spaceport terrain.
“What have we got on those coordinates I threw you?”
The curly haired fellow turned his sunken eyes toward Northern. “Pretty good memory, Captain. It seems to be some kind of mansion all right, on the outskirts of the town. Got a nice field alongside it too. I’m going to be able to set this baby down pretty as you please!”
“Don’t thank me, Arbst.” Northern grinned over at their female companion. “Silver is the one that has all the details of Shiva and its president burned into her brain.”
Silver Zenyo gave a lemon-twist of a smile but said nothing, keeping her attention upon her sensor board.
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