STAR HOUNDS -- OMNIBUS

by David Bischoff

  Yes, she thought as she idly browsed through the ship’s library, Alexander quietly waiting in a chair, it was best to make these kinds of adjustments on her own.

  When Andrew had first revealed to her his true identity, along with the fact that four others like him hid within the electronic nooks and crannies of Federation systems, Chivon’s paranoia was set off. She had always secretly feared that Andrew was a ploy on the part of other competitive Friends after her job. Or even that the Council was checking on her loyalty.

  But Andrew’s story rang true. It made sense.

  This was why Arnal Zarpfrin had destroyed the sentient ships, not because they were artificially intelligent, but because they were alien ships, each holding portals to who-knows-where. By destroying them, he thought he would eradicate the threat to humanity from the many nameless civilizations Out There.

  Also, the creature she dealt with, this Aspach, as it called itself and its fellows, was simply too coherently good to be the product of Federation minds. He had an almost discernible integrity that radiated from his presence. Alas, Andrew could tell her very little of his past. Like Dr. Mish, he and his fellow Aspach had lost much of their memory—there seemed to be some mosaic, some puzzle involved in their existence that would only be solved by a reuniting of their full number with one of the portals they inhabited.

  This was why Andrew had ventured out to seek assistance from Chivon. Only with her help could the Starbow be called back and contact be made.

  She only thought about it for a very short time before she had decided that she would indeed defect from the Federation, abandoning her home and her career. All her ambition, encouraged by the Federation, had never led her to anything truly satisfying.

  She had been content only one time in her life—when she had been with Tars Northern. For years after he fled Earth, she had tried to deny this fact, which was why she had needed the therapeutic assistance of a CompComp in the first place.

  Perhaps, she thought, now that she realized why Tars had abandoned her, in her heart of hearts she forgave him. He had stolen the Starbow to save it, after all, and in so doing had become an outlaw in the eyes of the Federation. He had sacrificed all for the sake of his newly formed ideals, and for the sake of his rebellion against the restrictive tyrannical reign of the Federation over the human spirit—over human freedom. And once that was thoroughly understood in her own mind, she realized that he had done the right thing, and that she should do the right thing as well.

  This, Andrew told her, was the possibility that he had seen in her psychological profile: the potential for renewal, the capacity for idealism. What he hadn’t added was potential for salvation, though Chivon knew that now to be true.

  She had done the right thing, and now she had to figure out what that meant in her life.

  Being around Tars Northern again was strange as well, and something that she had to adjust to slowly: the man had changed.

  The fact that she was confused about how she felt about him now might indeed have been complicating her perceptions. When she had been with him before, Tars had been of rock-solid character, a hero with a sense of humor but a troubled mind. He had been a most competent captain and pilot who took great pleasure in his position. He loved his ships, he loved his job. They had met before being assigned as copilots to the Starbow, but did not become lovers until they were placed together on the vessel. The changes had started when he met Dr. Mish, and now, years later, they seemed complete.

  Oh, Tars Northern still had his integrity—but the spontaneous nature of the man had come out, the unpredictability. Certainly he was still talented and competent; but now there was an excitement to his eyes as though at times he dwelled totally only in the present moment.

  Yes, and there was more mystery now ….

  She tried to avoid him as much as possible.

  She had admitted to Andrew that she still loved the man. A difficult confession, because the Federation enculturation always instilled the notion in its citizens that romantic love did not exist. Seeing him now, different yet more exciting, made her want him more.

  She needed to control that. She needed to get herself together, under tight rein again, especially since she didn’t have Andrew for therapy.

  Control. Aloofness. Those were the things that Chivon Lasster sought now, and she appreciated the Starbow crew for their willingness to give her the space she needed.

  Perhaps she could get to know them better later; and then she would open herself more to them.

  She was in the library with Alexander, absently considering this, when the woman introduced to her before as Midshipman Gemma Naquist entered the room.

  “Oh, hello,” said the midshipman. “I hope I’m not intruding. Just thought I’d do some research.”

  “Intruding?” Chivon immediately realized that this was a perfect example of what she’d been considering. “No, of course not. If anything, perhaps I am the intruder.”

  “That why you’ve been keeping to yourself?” the spunky, friendly-eyed woman wanted to know, clearly giving Chivon a chance to confide in her. “We’re quite grateful about the way you snatched our dear captain from the hands of the enemy.”

  “It was something I thought necessary.” There was a moment of awkwardness. She paused for a moment, then smiled. “I am sorry, but you must realize that I feel myself in a peculiar situation.”

  “Oh … you being a Friend and all that.” Gemma nodded. “Well, you have to remember that all of us have peculiar backgrounds—or why would we be aboard the Starbow?”

  Gemma browsed through a research tank, scanning through huge volumes of data. She seemed a bright, energetic person, and quite attractive in a personable way. Perhaps here was the opportunity to try to get to know at least one of the crew better.

  “I guess, then, you know my background,” she said coolly.

  “Sure,” replied Gemma jauntily. “You used to hold a top position in Feddy bureaucracy.” She turned a sly smile on her. “And a little bird told me you used to be the captain’s lady.”

  Chivon found herself laughing at the frankness of that last remark. “Yes, I suppose you could say that.”

  “Must have been tough. That Northern can be rough on women. Glad I never got involved with him.” She said it so casually that Chivon suddenly found she could at last discuss that most complex man, Tars Northern.

  “Yes. I interviewed a lady named Kat Mizel who seemed rather perturbed over the subject.”

  Gemma laughed. “And damned perturbed she got left behind in that raid, I don’t doubt. Poor Kat’s only problem was that she had it pretty bad for the captain. So bad, in fact, she tricked the guy into marrying her when he was loaded and on a shore leave.”

  “Ah,” said Chivon. So that was why Tars Northern got married. His drinking and his integrity … a curious combination.

  “So what happened to old Kat, anyway?” Gemma put a hand to her hip and flashed a frown at Chivon. “The way we figure, she helped old Zarpfrin … and you … get tabs on us. Helped you lay that trap on—”

  “Zarpfrin sent her to a rehabilitation planet somewhere. In a few more months, I daresay she’ll be a good Federation citizen.”

  “Nothing much more she can do against us, I suppose. Still, it is a shame the way things turned out. Maybe we’ll run into Kat again, somewhere down the line. I hope so.”

  “I don’t think she’d very much like to see me again,” said Chivon.

  “No, I suppose she wouldn’t.”

  “Laura Shemzak has a bit of a … what would you call it … a crush? An affection for Tars. Something she tries to hide.”

  “You’ve noticed so soon. Oh, yes, and I think there’s something for her in him ….”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, like raw lust.”

  Chivon stifled a snort.

  “Yes, half the wome
n that have been on this boat have developed a thing for good Captain Northern,” Gemma said. “I suppose it’s the romantic dash in the man. I confess, sometimes it gets to me too.”

  “I think he enjoys that. But tell me, Gemma … you said you had an unusual induction aboard the Starbow. I’d like to hear about it.”

  “We all had unusual inductions … and adjustments. Northern plied the oddball corners of the Free Worlds, where the flotsam and jetsam of humanity gravitate—”

  “To hang out in bars?”

  “I think he wanted to recruit people who were experienced and talented … but disillusioned, and perhaps desperate. Desperate enough to join this crew, anyway. Oh, and one more characteristic is needed.”

  “Oh? And what’s that?” Chivon asked.

  “A certain idealism. I think that at the core of every member of this crew is a belief in the value of the individual’s freedom. The belief that human beings have the right to shape their own destinies, not be controlled by some greater, mindless set of cultural attitudes. Know what I mean?”

  “Oh, yes,” Chivon replied. “That’s ninety percent of how the Federation controls its citizens, the other ten percent being the genetic programming, the intensely controlled education, the monitored competition and achievement—”

  “Oh, yeah,” Gemma interrupted. “We all heard about that on Anteres IV.”

  “Anteres IV, that’s the Free World you’re from?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “A beautiful, very docile world as I recall,” Chivon said. “Blue skies. Lots of grass and water and farming and dairy operations. Manufactures the best cheese in the galaxy.”

  “Hey, you know your planets, don’t you?”

  “I had to. Part of my job was to study methods for infiltration and takeover of a large sector of FreeWorlds through nonviolent means.”

  “Yeah, well, they can have Anteres IV, far as I’m concerned,” Gemma said. “Boring as they come.”

  “That’s why you joined up with the Starbow? You did promise to tell me about it.” It was then that Chivon noticed the freckles that dusted the midshipman’s nose and cheeks, or at least they seemed more pronounced. And the former Friend could visualize this affable, open human being wandering in the pastures beneath a pair of rosy suns, a stereotypical cornfed girl.

  “Oh, yes. I joined planet’s National Guard first, against the wishes of my parents. They wanted me to marry some clodhopper and cut sod and feed cows and squeeze out a load of healthy babies. I learned to fly the third-rate airboats and system ships, but there were no real challenges. So one day, while stationed in the capital, I’m looking over the classifieds in the local rag because there wasn’t anything much better to do, and I come across this ad. Let me see if I can remember the exact wording: WANTED. SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. MILITARY AND SPACE PILOTING EXPERIENCE DESIRABLE. PREFERABLY ATTRACTIVE FEMALE. And the recruitment place was this local dive. So I thought, Hey, why not? See what this joker is up to. I mean, I’m not bad looking and I did fit the bill.”

  “So you went to the bar and got in line.”

  “Line? No way. I was the only one who showed up. So Northern is sitting at this dark corner table. I know this is the guy because Arkm Thur came up to the bar where I’m sitting with my beer and he taps me on the arm and asks me if I’m here about the ad. So I say maybe, and he smiles and says ‘Good enough,’ and takes me back to Northern.

  “So here’s this crazy ex-Feddy pilot and we get along great. I drink a little too much … well, a lot too much, and they tell me they’d really like me aboard the Starbow. They tell me how exciting it is, what great adventures, what great people … you know, the whole recruitment thing. I said, I’d have to desert the Anteres National Guard, and Northern says, ‘No problem. I’ve got a friend high up in the military here. We can make arrangements.’ So the next thing I know, I’ve got myself packed and I’m sipping a beer on one of the Starbow’s shuttles ….”

  “And let me guess the rest. The Anteres Navy started chasing you,” said Chivon.

  “No! After I woke up the next morning I was sure that I was shanghaied, and I made all kinds of fuss. But then Northern played back this taped transmission, and damned if it wasn’t a general in the Anteres Defense Force, friendly as you please with the guy, giving me the full go ahead! Northern even let me send back a message to say goodbye and see you later to my relatives. I mean, he’s nasty sometimes, but he’s really a pretty good guy on the whole. The way I figure it, I never did really desert my National Guard. I’m kind of doing my job here, instead. And it’s an important job.” She glanced at the vu-screen in front of Chivon, text scrolling endlessly upward. “Hey, you want to have a cup of coffee or something?”

  For a moment something in Chivon held back, but it was just an automatic reflex and she saw it as such.

  “Sure,” she said. “Why not?”

  On the way to the mess, Gemma said, “Some ship, huh?”

  “Oh, yes indeed. Some ship.”

  “Oh, right. I forgot. You know it pretty well already … you used to be the copilot.”

  “Well, I didn’t know that it held a plugged-up portal to some different dimension, I can tell you that. That’s certainly new to me. And this alien …. What’s his name?”

  “Shontill.”

  “Yes, the one in search of his lost race. He’s new to me as well. An interesting being, Shontill. He seemed very disturbed at the delay. Though I must say, he is a fascinating creature.”

  “Say, how about a little field trip?” said Gemma.

  “Pardon?”

  “We’re talking about Shontill … why don’t we talk to him? Yes. It would help you get a better idea of what the Starbow is about.”

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  Gemma grinned. “Sure I am. I get along with Shontill okay. I guess you’ve never spoken much to aliens, eh?”

  “From time to time.”

  “Shontill’s okay … and you know, the more aliens I meet—and we’ve met a few, believe me—the more I realize that humans have more in common with other intelligences than they realize. I mean, we all exist, don’t we, and we’ve got to deal with being alive and aware …. Sure, the details are different, but at the core, we’re all in the same boat.”

  “An interesting philosophical position,” Chivon said dryly.

  A spark of fire ignited in Gemma’s clear eyes. “You don’t believe me, do you?” She grinned maliciously. “Oh yeah, I remember. Your brains were parboiled by the Federation.”

  Chivon blinked and stepped back as though struck in the face. Then she laughed when she realized that there was a joke behind the sting. “Perhaps. Very well, then, Midshipman Naquist. Lead me to this Shontill creature and I will speak to him, if you insist.”

  “Sure, it’ll do you good,” Gemma said brightly. “Expand your mind and all that.”

  “Shall we ask him to join us?”

  “Oh, no, that’s okay. I was going down to say hello sometime soon anyway. Shontill’s been keeping to his quarters lately. I think he’s depressed. Maybe we’ll cheer him up. Come on. It’s on the next level down.”

  They found the lift and descended. “Don’t you need permission from the captain or something?”

  “No, I’ve got access.” Gemma lifted her hand, showing her palm where a bar code was clearly labeled over scar tissue. “Programmed into my identipad here.”

  The door they stopped in front of had a jamb limned in black and yellow striping. Gemma stopped for a moment in front of it, examining her imprint, tapping it into action with a forefinger. She pressed it on the side of the door and the door clicked.

  It began to slide open.

  Chivon was immediately aware of the different smell, and then the different temperature of the room.

  “Breathable, but not pleasant,” she said as a gust of it poured
out.

  “You’ll get used to it,” Gemma remarked blithely as the door finished opening. “Bit of sulfur, rotten egg stuff … but actually the mix is good for your sinuses, believe it or not.”

  “Warmer,” said Chivon. “Shontill comes from a tropical climate?”

  “Apparently … at least that’s the condition he’s most comfortable in. Of course, he’s quite able to roam about in our standard atmosphere with the proper adjustments. A pretty remarkable fellow, Shontill. Highly adaptable.”

  They stepped through the door.

  “It’s like a jungle in here,” said Chivon, noticing in the dim lighting the fronds and vines and flowers draped from the ceiling.

  “Yeah, nice isn’t it? Dr. Mish fixed this up after we discovered Shontill in the wreckage of that starship even before we could speak with the guy. Mish just took a scan of the unconscious alien’s biological makeup, made certain deductions, and voila! A home for our guest.”

  Chivon looked around, shivering a bit despite herself.

  “Hey, Shontill!” called Gemma. “You’ve got company in your waiting room. It’s me, Midshipman Gemma, and a friend. Are you decent?”

  There was no response. Only the sounds of distant fluid gurgling.

  “Hmm,” said Gemma. “He must be snoozing in his rest chamber.”

  “Well, then, we don’t want to wake him up, do we?” Chivon said tightly, feeling ill at ease.

  “Oh, don’t worry. I’ve gotten him out of sleep before. It’s really quite a sight, anyway, dear Shontill in his watery form. We should at least have a peek.”

  Gemma grabbed her by the arm and lightly tugged her along. “Oh, c’mon. You’ve opted for a life of adventure by hopping on this tug. Let’s start right now.”

  A faint phosphorescence glowed on the walls of the next room. A bit of wet vegetation slapped Chivon in the face as she passed through an oval portal behind Gemma. One entire wall seemed to be a tank of some kind, in which strands of something floated.