STAR HOUNDS -- OMNIBUS

by David Bischoff

  “Get away from there, man!” said Zarpfrin, raising his voice. “Has that stuff rotted your brain? I’ve got a gun on you. I can shoot you on the spot!”

  “Oh, maybe, but somehow I very much doubt it, Zarpfrin. Sometime you’ll want me dead—or at the very least, sucked out and erased. But for right now, I would venture to say that you’ve got your gun on stun.”

  “A little more power than that. I’d prefer to have you conscious and undamaged, Northern, but if necessary—”

  Silver Zenyo was still looking at Freeman Jonst. “I still don’t understand how you could sell out,” she said.

  “Two weeks ago,” Jonst said, averting their eyes, “the Jaxdron broke through our defenses and laid waste to a large portion of our capital. The attack was devastating—but more devastating was with what ease they accomplished it … and the implicit promise that a larger force would be back to deal out further decimation. To see all we’ve worked for so long, destroyed by a bunch of faceless aliens …. it was too much. Zarpfrin is right, Silver. Blood will out. When it comes to a clinch, humans must unite.”

  “No, no, something is very wrong here,” Silver said, shaking her blond locks emphatically. “Can’t you see it, Freeman? Or have they got control of you, riddled you with their puppet strings until you’re just jerking about at the twitching of their bent fingers?”

  “This really is getting to be a bit much,” said Zarpfrin wearily. “I’ve had enough of your traitorous ways, Tars Northern. I am moved by the ultimate loyalty of President Jonst to his people and to humanity. Ideas are fine, but our first duties are to the race, no? And your perverse ways have led you to prey on that race, Tars Northern. Now, if you would—”

  Suddenly, Zarpfrin’s gun was blasted from his grasp. The Overfriend yelped and instinctively pulled his hand back, rubbing it as he stared, shocked, at President Freeman Jonst.

  “This doesn’t change our deal, Zarpfrin,” Jonst said. “If I wanted that, your head would be all over the wall. I didn’t expect my friends to drop in, though, and while I’m a damned faithful leader, I’m also a faithful friend.” Keeping his gun trained on the nonplussed Zarpfrin, he turned to Zenyo and Northern. “Now would you two get your asses out of here before that security detachment arrives?”

  Tars Northern saluted. “I knew you wouldn’t let us down, Freeman. Just so this trip isn’t entirely wasted … ” He grabbed a full bottle of rare Cognac from the top of the table. “And watch out for this snake here.” They both scooped up their guns. Northern grinned at his adversary. “I should take this opportunity to do what I should have done a long time ago, Zarpfrin. But in honor of my friend Jonst here, I won’t.”

  “I’ll make you wish you had, Tars Northern,” Zarpfrin said. “I promise you that.”

  “We’ll be back sometime to liberate Kendrick’s Vision, Jonst,” said Northern. “Meantime, enjoy your enslavement.” He indicated to Silver Zenyo that this time the window was appropriate.

  “Well see about that!” Freeman Jonst called after them. Zarpfrin made a move, but the president of Kendrick’s Vision quickly realigned the sights of his gun and said, “I wouldn’t do that, Overfriend. Until they get clear of here, consider our agreement suspended. I must say, if you happen to get shot, I’m sure that the Federation has someone to replace you, so don’t tempt me.”

  “They won’t get away!” Zarpfrin cried. “They can’t. I’ve alerted all my forces here. Why throw in with them, Jonst, when they are the losers?”

  “A temporary aberration, let’s say. But for right now, just stay where you are and we shall have a negotiating session. There are some aspects of our deal which I realize now don’t quite suit me.”

  Zarpfrin fumed.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Oof!” said Silver as she fell off the porch.

  Tars Northern just missed catching her. He helped her up. “C’mon, hurry! God knows when that security aircar is going to show up.”

  “I broke two nails!” Silver said disgustedly, studying her hands.

  “Just get moving now, woman,” Northern said, grabbing her arm and pulling her. They began to run up the slope, toward the shuttle.

  However did this happen? Northern wondered. I must remember not to take anything for granted! But at least it was good for some exercise!

  Not sixty yards into their upward sprint, a pair of headlights pricked their way around the side of Jonst’s hacienda. A roar. A jabber of voices.

  “Oh, well,” said Northern. “So much for a clean escape!”

  Silver turned her head and saw the sleek outline of the aircar making its way in an exploratory fashion around the side of the building. A searchlight stabbed through the ground mist, as a voice yelled instructions from the porch. They realized that Freeman Jonst must have been relieved of his tactical position and now they were on their own.

  “No time for gawking, let’s move it!” Northern instructed in a harsh voice.

  Silver Zenyo needed no further encouragement.

  The searchlight played over the grassy slope as the hovering aircar began to move toward them. Northern could hear the squeak of a gun turret as the security men sought them out. Idly he wondered if the set was full blast or stun, and knew he’d get his answer very soon.

  Their breaths were harsh in their throats as their feet stamped up the long slope, legs whipping through the grasslike vegetation which formed a kind of lawn for the estate. The wild, fresh scents of the night swept about Tars Northern, a reminder of the life it was his duty to cling to.

  I can’t die nor let them get me, his mind raged. I must complete what has been begun. The thought urged his body to a new speed. Silver Zenyo struggled to keep up, her immaculate hairdo now a mess.

  The searchlight flicked their way as the aircar hummed nearer. A sliver of light caught Silver, casting a shadow. A cry of victory, a hiss of heat cutting through the dark, a zapping of intense light as it danced along the ground just short of their feet: the blaster was not set on stun.

  Silver yelped and Northern swung his gun around and squeezed off a spurt of fire which went wide of its mark.

  “Separate,” he ordered. “Zigzag up the slope!”

  He lunged away from her, rolling through the damp grass then into a kneel. He took a careful bead this time and put out the searchlight in an explosion of glass and the clap of a vacuum filling. But Northern’s fire placed him. Blaster fire answered his pistol work, searing a mere meter short, singeing the hair on Northern’s arm. He leaped away and rolled, then dug his feet back into the ground and ran for all he was worth.

  Orders were shouted in the car and it leaped toward them, blaster kicking up gouts of flaming turf as it roared after Northern.

  One of the Vision’s moons was rising on the other side of the slope, providing a soft new light. Northern could see Silver’s silhouette rising up into that light, a perfect target.

  “Silver!” he yelled. “Get down!”

  The fiery line of light stabbed out just as the woman obeyed. But it caught her on one side, and she shrieked. Like a beast sensing a kill, the aircar snorted toward its victim. Northern lifted his gun and tried to fire but it was jammed.

  The aircar approached the crest of the hill, closing in—And was suddenly blasted, tail over rotors, by fire from atop the slope. The Federation security officers were thrown from the car as it crashed and crumpled down the slope.

  Northern spun around. A figure holding a rifle stood beyond him. “I know you said not to leave the shuttle, Captain,” said Arbst Nichol. “But I just got some terrible news from the Starbow and figured you might be in trouble.”

  “That’s one way of putting it,” Northern said grimly as he strode over to where Silver Zenyo lay in the pale moonlight.

  She sat up clutching her upper arm as he approached, “Got a dermaplast?” she asked.

  Northern grinned wit
h relief. “Bit of a moontan, huh? Easy there, lady.” He helped her up. “Talk about getting burned in love.”

  “Please, Northern,” she said as they hobbled back to the shuttle, Nichol covering them should any of the Federation folk rise up from unconsciousness. “Spare me the bad jokes and get me to the med cabinet for some nice dermaplast.”

  They made their way to the shuttle very quickly. “You would have thought we’d have seen Federation troops!” Arbst Nichol commented.

  “Uh-uh, too few,” said Northern as he helped Zenyo up the ramp. “This is just a parlay expedition.”

  “With two destroyer-class starships out there?” Nichol said as he pounded up after them, drawing the ramp up after him.

  “I’m sure that all Overfriends travel well-protected,” said Silver, stumbling her way toward the medical compartment, her pretty face contorted with pain. “I’ll be all right here, you two just get us back to the Starbow. I foresee a rough flight.”

  “And what is Thur’s report?” Northern inquired grimly.

  “Right now they’re attempting an evasive maneuver, sir. Our rendezvous point is at the same coordinates as departure point.”

  “If we can make it up there in time,” said Zenyo, “and if they don’t have much trouble with those destroyers.”

  “What? The Starbow?” Northern laughed as the shuttle lifted on wings of force and shot up through the night sky. “My pretty boat is more than a match for any pair of Feddy rust buckets!”

  “Judas Priest,” cried Arkm Thur, picking himself up off the floor. “What was that?” He recovered his aplomb immediately as he reassumed the captain’s chair and barked out orders for status reports.

  “The shields absorbed most of the explosion,” said Gemma Naquist, who’d had the forethought of strapping herself in upon first sighting of the Federation ships.

  “Sensors indicate a jump-missile, Thur,” reported Dr. Mish. “Proton torpedo jacked up for a brief Underspace jump. Prohibitively expensive for battle purposes. They must really want us.”

  “Maximum thrusters and antigrav! Program an evasive course so jagged that they can’t plot where we’ll be if they’re thinking about sending us another of those babies!”

  The Federation cruisers could go no faster than the Starbow—but they could keep up, occasionally flicking out proton beams when the pi-merc vessel cut off some of its distance with an abrupt change of course. They both were following the Starbow and Arkm Thur figured that was good just as long as there wasn’t some other Federation ship skulking about, ready to pounce either on the Starbow or the shuttle bearing the captain. But sensors indicated no such ship. The Federation was throwing all its force now at the Starbow. Just what I need today, thought First Mate Thur. A space chase.

  After some minutes of this madness, heading out for a circumnavigation of the Vision’s moon, Tether Mayz swung around in her chair and said, “We’ve got the captain on the line, sir. They’ll be at interception point at twenty-three point two minutes.”

  “What?” Thur said. “Damn, forget about the moon, Jitt. We simply haven’t got time! Plot us a course that will get us back to those coordinates in time.”

  Dansen Jilt did some speedy figuring. “Sir, the only way we can do that is to head right back through the enemy, after a tight curve that’s going to put a lot of strain on the artificial gravity here, to say the least.”

  “Well, as Captain Northern might point out, that’ll be the last thing they expect. Prepare a full spread of proton torpedoes and beams and anything else. The full damned arsenal! They’re not going to know what hit them!”

  “Aye aye, sir,” his officers answered doubtfully but without question. The Starbow had done stranger things in its career.

  Immediately, the vessel began to cut an arc that would in very short time bring it around full circle. However, the Federation cruiser stayed tight on its tail, following the course exactly, using the opportunity to rake the ship’s force fields with their own lasers, albeit to little effect. The Starbow dropped a few torpedoes their way, only one of which seemed to have any effect.

  “Officer Mayz, inform the captain and his pilot of our exact trajectory. We’re going to have to grab them with a tractor beam and haul them aboard as we pass. I just hope the shuttle hull is going to be able to withstand the pressure because this is the only way.”

  Tether Mayz made the appropriate communication, waited for the response, then swung back to Thur. “Sir, the captain hopes you realize that this is going to be a golden first if we can pull it off.”

  Thur turned to Dr. Mish. “Just a moment. Doctor … that special beam you used on the Jaxdron … you think you might conjure up another one of those? That would do the trick, I think.”

  “Yes,” said Dr. Mish, his face showing traces of unspoken trouble. “Yes, that could be arranged, and it would appear to be the best hope in the given situation. My resources have certainly recharged sufficiently. Only—”

  “Only what, Doctor?” said Arkm Thur. How strange to realize that when you spoke to Dr. Mish, you were actually speaking to Starbow itself. “That torpedo we caught give you an upset stomach?”

  “An appropriate analogy, Thur,” said Dr. Mish. He blinked. “Something wrong deep within.” He closed his eyes and spoke lower. “I have been … the core … my Heart … the Portal. Intruders!” He opened his eyes again. “I must leave.”

  The construct sat down and relaxed into oblivion. Arkm Thur ran over and shook the body violently. No response. “Damn,” he said, checking the chronometer. “If he doesn’t get this problem fixed in ten minutes, we’re going to be in deep trouble!”

  “Going to be?” Dansen Jitt said as he looked up at the rear vu-screen depicting the cruisers coming after them like brimstone-breathing demons from Hell.

  “Did anybody find Laura Shemzak yet?” the First Mate demanded.

  Nobody had.

  Chapter Nineteen

  To begin with, it looked like no room that Laura Shemzak had ever seen—in or out of a starship.

  There was no furniture per se, only a few blocks strewn on the floor in a peculiar pattern. A thick mist moved about these in or like amorphous ectoplasm, pulsing with all manner of lights. The air seemed to vibrate with light from the tubular lights that veined a fibrous wall. In the center of the room was a series of columns attached ceiling to floor, the stones resembling a cross between a Greek temple and Stonehenge. They formed a huge boxlike room of their own. On one side Laura could see wirelike apparatus, on another a dark rectangular mirror of obsidian which caught the lights flowing through the room and reflected them back in mystical hues.

  “Come, Laura Shemzak, and behold a prize beyond imagining,” said the Jaxdron creature. “We had reason to believe that this almost mystical structure was the center, the secret of the Starbow, ever since we trained the analysis ray upon it and obtained hints. And so now we behold it truly, knowing that we must have it or its like.”

  “What is it?” Laura said, unable to keep her eyes from the weird, dazzling thing.

  “It is one of the Relics of the Older Times, of the Elder Beings, Laura Shemzak. It is one of our R’nth’na—our Goal Mysteries. But we waste time talking. We must be about our purpose. Observe and ponder, lowly one.”

  The creature strode to the side of the glassy monolith, extending its fingers into delicate filaments which touched and stroked the coils and cables experimentally. “Heed, oh my brothers. Observe the Gate!”

  Laura wanted to do something, anything, but she found herself in a curiously mesmerized state, watching as the sides of the box began to pulse their lights stronger, harder, like a beating heart filled with multicolored blood-light. Whether this Jaxdron monster meant the Starbow harm was not apparent. But it hadn’t hurt her, had it? Besides, what could she do, beat on its back?

  The creature’s eyes were bright with inhuman satisfactio
n as its fingers lengthened again, weaving themselves through the webworking of the side. “Much to be learned!” it said. “Much to be explored! Much to win!” With its right limb it began to touch the glassy face, fingers pushing gently.

  It stopped, seemingly vexed. “What is this? Our computers predict penetration at this point! Yet the side is as solid as—”

  Suddenly the sides of the room began to rumble like the bowels of God Himself. A phantom wind swirled the mist violently. A thunder vibrated everything, and the light within this wondrous core room began to congeal into violently extended lightning bolts.

  “The Guardian is alerted!” the Creature said. “Evacuate synoptic interceptors before transmission is reversed and—”

  Sparks began to fly from where the creature’s fingers touched the monolith.

  The thing’s eyes flew wide and it began to shake violently, its scream submerged within the furious roar of power surging through its body. Flames began to leap out of it, the odor of burnt flesh and circuitry drifting over to Laura, who covered her nose and turned to run.

  The door slammed shut, barring her exit.

  By now the Jaxdron creature was totally engulfed in fire. Somehow it pulled itself away from its entanglement, staggered back, then crumpled onto the floor not two meters from Laura. The mist closed in upon it, and Laura watched as the flames were doused by the fog. The burned body then began to decompose, leaving only its metalloplast components.

  The wild throbbing of the central monolith diminished; the thunder softened to echoes. A voice which seemed to fill the entire chamber spoke; Laura recognized it immediately. It belonged to Dr. Michael Mish.

  It was the ship’s voice!

  “Oh, excellent, excellent!” it said. “I had rather hoped that something like this might happen! A nice tap through to Jaxdron Central if I may say so myself. But such an inconvenient time!”