With the ease Arbst Nichol predicted, they set down using retros and antigravs in a grassy field beyond a ridge which hid the president’s mansion from their view.
“Why didn’t we open a channel before we arrived, Captain?” Nichol wanted to know.
“It’s a little game Freeman and I play from time to time,” Northern returned mischievously. “Little surprises of various sorts. He’s not going to be expecting me and the way was clear. Why not just drop in unannounced!”
Nichol’s chubby features bent into a frown. “I don’t know, Captain,” he said doubtfully.
“Silver, anything amiss on the sensors?”
“Nothing I can ascertain, sir,” Silver answered in a non-committal voice. She seemed preoccupied—no doubt with anticipation, Northern surmised.
“Well then,” he said cheerily. “You will do us the favor of staying on board while we go and have a chat with old Freeman, won’t you?”
“I presume that’s an order,” said Nichol. “Forgive me, sir, but sometimes I can’t tell.”
“Yes indeed. An order. Stand by, though, we’re going to be needing your help in stowing some stuff on board.”
“Aye aye, sir,” Nichol said, swiveling around and pecking out instructions on a keyboard. “Disembarkation procedures under way. Have a nice visit, sir.”
The airlock began to open. The ladder descended onto the grassy sward beneath. Northern, followed by Zenyo, stepped out into the clean, fresh air of Kendrick’s Vision. Northern was immediately reminded why he liked this place so much. Something about the atmosphere—faintly higher oxygen content, perhaps—something special that plants added, maybe. Whatever it was, it was relaxing and it was good. The stars twinkled overhead through a stirring or clouds. Insects made chittering noises in the nearby wood.
“Ah, the Vision,” said Northern as the pair began to climb the rise. “Pardon my continual snoopiness, Silver, but I still can’t figure out why you wanted to leave this place. It’s as good as any to settle down in, isn’t it, and you seemed to take quite a shine to Jonst … more than I’ve ever seen you take to anyone, come to think of it … and you do tend to do well with men, you can’t deny that. If I were you—”
“You forget so easily, Captain,” Silver said, stopping, placing her hands on her hips, silhouetted by one of the small, greenish moons just rising from the horizon. “Sometimes I wonder if it’s simply the way your mind works, or if your brain’s eroding from your penchant for drink. Not one of us on that beautiful ship out there is normal in the slightest. We’re all haunted, all driven. That’s the common denominator. Now I realize that you’ve gotten this bee in your bonnet about commitment and family and somesuch rot, and maybe I agree—it’s nice to have people around. Sure. But I’m a loner, Northern, just like you. My head is full of stuff beyond expression—haunted, just like that incredible, creaky old thing inside your head is. I’ve got things driving me that maybe even I don’t understand. But what I do know is that I’m not about to settle down into a complacent, quiet life no matter how pleasant it might be, when I know that there are struggles occurring in this universe that I might take part in. I almost resent the fact that you think I’m different from you in that way. That’s why we’re together, Northern. That’s why we’re a crew. We’re all dedicated to something, and that’s our lives.”
Northern grinned. “Just checking. I just thought that you dressed and looked your best to catch yourself a man sometime, and I can’t think of more of a man than Freeman Jonst.”
It was Silver’s turn to smile, and in the light from the two moons and the running lights of their shuttle, Tars Northern could see that it was a gentle smile. “Tars, what else can I say except that a girl’s just got to do what she can.”
They topped the rise and found themselves looking down into a valley holding a sprawling Spanish-style villa. Lights shone in curtain windows. There were no guards. No reason for guards, here on Kendrick’s Vision, a new colony where people were too busy working to build their dream to become criminals or to overthrow the government by assassinating the president.
“Too early for the old fellow to be in bed,” said Northern. “He might be in his office. Do you remember where that is, dear heart?”
“Sure. Around this way. Your ploy of allowing Nichol to land seems to have worked. We came down so quietly with that sensor cloak, nobody seems to know that we’re here.”
“I owe that pal of yours a surprise and I can’t think of a better way of giving him one than to walk in unannounced with you.” He could feel his face getting a devilish expression on it. “I don’t suppose you might consider going in bare-assed, would you?”
“You really have too nice a face to take such risks of getting it marked up, Northern. Come on, the entrance is over here.”
They crept up along a hedgerow to a window and peered in.
A man with graying, bushy hair was poring intently over something at his desk. He was dressed in plain khaki coveralls and wore spectacles. Freeman Jonst, working.
“Through the window?” Northern suggested in a whisper.
“That’s a bit much, Captain, don’t you think? I mean, Freeman generally carries a gun—that’s part of his philosophy, you remember, and if he sees a couple of legs come cruising through his side window, he’s likely to shoot first and ask for names later.”
“Right you are. I knew there were reasons beyond your fabulous beauty that I keep you on my ship. Now as I recall, there’s a door hereabouts.”
“This all seems so … quaint and simple.”
“Some planet cultures are like that,” said Northern.
There was, and they found it without much problem, walking into a tastefully decorated hallway done in a curious mixture of old Earth styles. Freeman Jonst had always been fascinated with the more leisurely cultures of old Earth, particularly the Latin, and had utilized much of his architectural penchants on his vital and growing colony.
Tars Northern had met the man not long after he had stolen the Starbow. He knew of the reputation of Kendrick’s Vision as a hold-out of individualism amongst even the Free Worlds. He thought the planet worthwhile to investigate as part of his efforts to rally independent planets together in a loose consortium designed to repulse any Federation efforts to regain territory.
They had met, and although Jonst had not been interested in the consortium idea, he had taken to the unpredictable Northern. They’d become fast friends and drinking buddies. Northern had been given the planetary equivalent of the key to the city and often traveled back to Kendrick’s Vision to trade supplies, sell stolen loot, pick up booze, or simply pay a visit, always knowing he was welcome, always knowing that he and his crew were safe there. The Vision was so far away from Federation space that its area had virtually no Federation traffic; thus the Starbow could feel at ease.
So Kendrick’s Vision was like a planetary vacation spot for Tars Northern. If he had anything approaching a planetary home now, this was it. “Mi casa es su casa,” Freeman Jonst had said, and if any man could be taken at his word, it was his friend Freeman.
Voices muttered in the distance. There was the scent of fresh wood and wax in the air, a good smell. Sometimes when he came down to places like this, Northern realized that even as committed as he was to the Starbow and its crew, and as much as he belonged to the starways, he missed the feel, touch, and taste, the security, of living on a planet’s surface.
Silver indicated a door and Northern followed her. The door was open. The pair strode in as casually as they might if they lived in the place.
The man at the desk stopped writing something and looked up at them. He blinked. His jaw dropped a bit. “Hallo, Jonsty, old friend,” said Northern. “We were just passing town and thought we’d drop in for a visit.”
“Hello, Freemen,” said Silver in a soft, breathy voice.
Tars Northern had never seen h
is friend at such a loss for words. Freeman sputtered and choked and his eyes grew big and then he finally coughed out “What in God’s name are you—” A terrified look appeared on his face, “Get out! Get out right now!”
Northern stepped forward, surprised. “What’s wrong, Freeman?”
“I get the feeling,” said Silver Zenyo in her normal voice, “that we really should have called first.”
The door squeaked behind them. Freeman Jonst’s eyes flicked to the new arrival.
Northern and Zenyo spun around.
Standing in the doorway was an overweight man, immaculately dressed in high station Federation uniform, his prissy, self-satisfied expression combined with a smile of eager delight.
“Well, well, well,” the man said, lifting a gun. “How constantly surprised I am by the vagaries of chance,” said Overfriend Zarpfrin. “Greetings and well met, Tars Northern. We’ve a few things to discuss, I think.”
Chapter Sixteen
Laura was just about to leave them when the clone twins began to change.
They had just finished a pleasant game of cards featuring high spirits of the Cal kind. Puns and jokes flew, one or the other mimicking famous characters, pure silliness of the sort that the original Cal could be so good at, with a unique intensity borne of playing off himself.
The banter and antics amused Laura so much that for the moment she forgot her impatience with their stop-off in this system. Still, though, she wanted to run a check on her blip-ship. As they had agreed, Northern’s bunch was doing an analysis of the craft, and she wanted to make sure they hadn’t knocked anything out of whack.
She had said her farewells to the pair and was at the open door when one of them, she didn’t know which, called out, “Oh, and Laura, just one more thing!”
Laura spun on a heel, expecting some finale to their escapades. A silly face, a raspberry, a headstand—anything but what confronted her. Cal One and Cal Two stood, their arms joined together in a grotesque mass of shifting, greenish protoplasm.
“What the hell are you doing!” The sentence ended with a shriek.
Their faces had grown rigid, their eyes glassy and vacant, focused on infinity. The bubbling mass of protoplasm spread up to the shoulders and dripped down the chest, translucent enough to show metamorphizing activity. Flesh and bone and electronics were becoming—something else!
“Laura! Laura Shemzak!” they said, their voices blending together into a weird buzz. “Transmission established at optimum moment! Units functioning as programmed. A successful ploy in the minor arcana of stratagem! Field impulsers and limited theta module power dictate immediate action after mobile unit achieves ambulatory wholeness.”
“I’m getting someone to take a look at you guys!” Laura said, more than a bit unnerved at this sight.
Suddenly, their eyes focused upon her. Already their heads were joined. They looked like Siamese twins melting into some ungodly horror. “No, Laura Shemzak. The life of your brother is at risk. Hamper this move and surely he shall suffer pain beyond your imagining!”
“The Jaxdron!” Laura said, feeling paralyzed. “I’m actually talking to—You goddamn bunch of lowlifes! What do you think you’re doing? Let me have my brother back!”
“Ah, then, our readings on you are accurate. A very simple emotional matrix of priorities. How delightfully and outrageously primitive. Oh, the joys of manipulation!” The mouths had grown together by now, the voice had become single. “But stay, Laura Shemzak, for we wish you no harm, and we have word of your brother, whom we hold in captivity.”
“No kidding, jerks! And I’m going to get him back!”
“Please forgive us our lack of variety in the vocabulary of your language, and make your messages simple.”
“I thought that was simple enough! Can you let me talk to Cal?”
“Your brother is being most cooperative and is quite comfortable, Laura Shemzak. He is indeed upon the planet we indicated most melodramatically to the adept one of your crew. Oh, the joys of intimidation! Yes, yes, and you come to save him, but the others … the other humans and non-human have other needs, yes, yes? They care very little for the fate of Cal Shemzak.”
“But he’s safe, you haven’t rotted his mind? Why did you duplicate him, why all this weirdness?”
“Oh, curious creature, we can only know bits and pieces of transtextural reality, and we have time only for small pieces. Oh, the delights of war, the intrigues of strategy! The extratemporal energies involved in this transmission are outrageous and we must be on our way. Now lead on, Laura Shemzak, for our unit is nearing readiness.”
The two bodies had indeed become one oozing mass of protoplasm, still transforming into some as yet undetermined form.
“That’s why you left the clones!” Laura said. “A pair of Trojan horses! But I can’t let you do harm to this ship or any of its crewmembers!”
“Oh, be advised that no harm is intended now and is not the purpose of the unit in formation. We seek only to uncover a secret of the Starbow … a secret you might well have use of yourself, Laura Shemzak. Forgive our threats concerning your brother, but truly it is not in his best interests to have the crew apprised of our activities.”
Laura swallowed. “What do you want me to do?”
The newly created organism—only vaguely humanoid, with eyes that seemed to glow with phosphoresce, with skin that still moiled like a fretful puddle surface covering twinkling diodes, twisting wires—stood unsteadily.
“There is a place at the hub of the radiating spokes that extends from the middle of this vessel—a place that is off-limits to all the crew save the captain, and of course the curious creature known as Dr. Michael Mish. You know of this place.”
Laura did. “There’s a lot of places that are off-limits, but they’re not going to want to let a Jaxdron-controlled beastie in there! And I’m not sure I want you there either.”
“The screams of your brother can be transmitted here easily, Laura Shemzak. Cal is easily obtainable and our methods of torture are exquisite.”
“Okay, okay,” said Laura, resigned. How could she notify the crew of what was happening here? She couldn’t do anything. She prayed that Dr. Mish was watching this and had something ready for this thing that the replicates of Cal had become. “But don’t expect me to help you beyond that.”
“Oh, do not worry,” said the thing, its hide thickening and opaque. “There is a reason for you being there as well, Laura Shemzak. Hail, O blessed strategy! Now my form is complete and ready, and the time is optimum.”
Almost as punctuation to the creature’s prophesy, the red alert klaxon sounded from down the hallway.
“They’ve found you out!” Laura said.
“Oh, no, no. Sensors show that the Starbow has an entirely different dilemma which shall occupy its attention and its crew’s attention. This is why this moment was chosen. We are quite a bit less than stupid. Now please, time is valuable. We must go.”
Laura had no choice but to obey the thing. But beneath her fear for her brother and for the well-being of this ship, there was a genuine curiosity.
She was going to find something out about the Starbow’s secrets!
Chapter Seventeen
Captain Tars Northern looked from the bore of Overfriend Zarpfrin’s gun to the stunned expression on the face of Freeman Jonst. “So, I see you’ve got rodent problems here on the Vision, President. May I suggest a good exterminator?”
“May I suggest that right now you divest yourself of your weapons, Tars Northern,” Zarpfrin said, “or I shall exercise my exterminating privileges?”
Both Zenyo and Northern eased their pistols from their holsters and dropped them on the ground.
“Northern, you must understand, there was no other choice,” Freeman Jonst said. “I had to call them in to protect us from the Jaxdron.”
“Sounds l
ike the foxes guarding the henhouse, Jonst,” said Northern.
“I didn’t ask you to come here, dammit! I would have warned you away!” Jonst met Silver Zenyo’s glare, then turned his wrinkle-wreathed eyes away.
“I had hoped you might drop in and visit here sometime, Northern, but I had no idea it would be so soon!” Zarpfrin said. “As for your comment, I have assured President Joust that the Federation’s military presence here in this system is solely to protect human interests in the Jaxdron war. Once this terrible threat is contained, we shall go, asking only continued relations, such as trading, to keep our bonds of humanity tight. We have even signed treaties here to assure one another of good faith. However, there is nothing in these treaties to prevent us from dealing out justice to criminals who happen to stop by unannounced. Now, if you’ll excuse me, please remain very still while I call in some help. I’m not so stupid as to think I can handle you alone, Northern. You’re much too slippery.”
He lifted a communicator from his belt and thumbed open a channel. “Yes, Hodgkins, if you would, send about five fully armed security officers to the president’s office by aircar. We’ve a pair of interesting intruders. Oh yes, and punch in full alert on our spacecraft for Wanted Vessel, Specs 4325A … Starbow. We’ve got its captain down here, so it must be somewhere up there. I’d be very pleased if we could capture it, but if we can’t, feel free to destroy it. Over.”
He placed the communicator back and smiled warmly. “Now then, Captain, you know it might go better with you if you help us get the Starbow. Spare your crew—things like that. So why don’t you simply cooperate?”
Northern shook his head and returned Zarpfrin’s smile.
“You know I couldn’t do that.” He strode nonchalantly toward the liquor cabinet. “You don’t trust me and I don’t trust you. We’ve been wonderful enemies, Zarpfrin, and I don’t know of any good reason why that should not continue just as long as possible.” He poured himself a drink. “Mind if I carry along a couple bottles of this stuff, Freeman? It’s one of my favorites.”
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