STAR HOUNDS -- OMNIBUS

by David Bischoff

  “Good,” said Northern. “This is going to be the toughest operation the Starbow has ever pulled off. But I have every faith in our ability to succeed.”

  “Your ability? You mean my ability! I’m gonna be the one in the hot seat!”

  Northern grinned. “You bet!”

  The evening before the ship left Underspace, Tars Northern invited Laura Shemzak to his cabin for a private dinner. The meeting with Chivon Lasster had gone well; Laura was about as ready for the mission as she ever could be. All the items had been covered—from infiltrating Earth defenses, finding the contact point to the system holding Mish’s brethren, to her method of escape.

  “We can afford to relax,” Northern had said, when inviting her to dinner.

  If you only knew, thought Laura.

  She dreaded the dinner, but knew she could not back out. It would create suspicion, and that was the last thing she needed. Even the mere thought of what the implant could do to her made her shudder.

  Northern wore his casual clothes. He did not drink, though it looked to Laura as though he would have liked to very much.

  Robots served them a particularly tasty fare of lightly spiced rice and vegetables.

  “All from Hydro-P,” Northern claimed.

  When the robots had left them on their own, Northern said, “What’s wrong, Laura?”

  Laura knew full well what was wrong and wasn’t surprised that it showed. It was easy enough to cover up, though.

  “Nervous, I guess,” she said, toying with some Peppers. “Dangerous mission coming up.”

  “No, it’s something more, something I can’t put my finger on. You’re working too hard.”

  “What the hell are you talking about, Northern?”

  “You see what I mean? You’re straining at your image—the feisty space pilot, hard as a dead star. It’s been that way since Walthor.”

  “Yeah, we went through some bad stuff there, didn’t we?”

  “You’re getting off the point, Laura. What gives?” She was silent. He waited, then continued. “Did something else happen down there that you’re not talking about?”

  Her mind raced. What could she say to that? He knew her well enough now to see whether she was lying or not. She squirmed in her chair.

  Beware, the voice said. This is your only warning.

  A truth that would enable her to avoid another truth occurred to her, and she blurted, “Yeah, something else happened down there, you jerk. I was worried about you. Real worried. And so it clicked. I realized I’m in love with you.”

  She could feel her cheeks flush. Damn that implant to make her have to say that! Damn it!

  “Would you care to repeat that, Laura?”

  “You heard what I said, Tars. I’m in love with you.” And I’m a traitor, Tars. A weak-willed traitor! she thought.

  “Ah,” said Northern gently. “This has not been an uncommon problem amongst the women crewmembers.”

  “You arrogant pile of—”

  Northern held up a hand. “Seriously, Laura. I’m not boasting, because it is a problem I have. I spoke to you about my linkage with Mish … well, apparently in addition to whatever appealing qualities I have as a man and a human being, my link with Mish adds a certain ethereal … charisma, shall we say.”

  “You’re telling me not to worry about it.”

  “I’m saying you shouldn’t blame yourself.”

  “I’ve never been in love before, Northern.” She spoke sullenly. “I want you.”

  “You’ve had opportunities,” Northern said.

  Her eyes flashed. “Don’t you think that was as much lovemaking as if we’d hit the sheets?”

  Northern blinked. “I suppose you’re right. You sure as hell got my heart racing, anyway.”

  “Nice to know.”

  “And you want to know how I feel.”

  “I guess I’m afraid to find out. But shoot anyway, if you want.”

  Northern sighed. “No. I’m not in love with you, Laura.”

  The hurt wasn’t much better than Zernin deprivation, but at least she could hide it. “I should go.”

  “No, wait a minute, Laura. Stay a moment. I need to explain.”

  “What’s more to explain?”

  “I wouldn’t mind being in love with you, Laura. I want you, I suppose, in a lot of ways ….”

  “Yeah, and all naked!”

  Northern smiled ruefully. “I’m just a man after all, and you’re a beautiful woman.”

  “You’re a bastard.” She got up to go.

  “Whoa! Let me finish. Laura, I don’t love any woman. I can’t love any woman … I haven’t loved a woman since Chivon.”

  That was too much. “Chivon! But you abandoned her.” She thought about that. “And now she’s back within reach. So have a damn good time, you two.” She felt tears in her eyes, and tried to will them away.

  “I told you about the link with Mish. I gave you that, Laura … I don’t talk about that much.”

  “So?”

  “So it’s not entirely beneficial.”

  “How?”

  “At times I may be a little more than human … but also, I become a little less than human.”

  Laura thought about that.

  “You mean, you’re being literal when you say—”

  “That’s right. I can’t feel that emotional bond with a woman. My emotions are … someplace else.”

  “Wonderful. I fall in love with a man who has the hots for a spaceship!”

  “Laura, it’s not quite like that!”

  “I know a spacer’s limerick that fits you just fine. ‘There once was a man from the stars, whose—’”

  “Lay off! Look, I told you, I can’t help it, that’s the way I am.”

  Northern got up, went to his drink cabinet, and poured himself a large dose of brandy. “I’m full of love, loyalty, and devotion, Laura. It hurts sometimes, there’s so much … ” He took a long swallow. “There’s just nothing left inside me for any woman. I wish there were, for you, Laura. I honestly wish there were.” He looked at her soulfully.

  “I think you’re being honest,” said Laura. “I actually think you’re telling the truth.”

  “I am.” He went back to his seat.

  “So now that we’ve gotten that out in the open,” said Northern, “you don’t have to feel so bad, or feel jealous.”

  “Hallelujah,” she said snidely.

  “So that’s what’s been bugging you?”

  “I suppose so.”

  “There are hell of a lot of more important things we’re in the midst of, Laura, than fragile human sexual mating dances.”

  “You’re absolutely right, Northern.”

  “I hope you realize that I’m very flattered.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “I like you. I like you a great deal.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “In fact, I love you about as much as I can.”

  “You’re sinking fast, Northern.”

  He sipped his drink. “Okay, I’ll stop.” He gave her a sickly grin.

  Laura breathed a mental sigh of relief. “Okay, Northern. If we’re going to be buddies, let’s get back to playing the game—my mission on Earth. Everything seems to be in order.”

  “I can’t impress upon you the importance of what you’ll be doing. And how grateful we all are for your efforts.”

  Silence hung between them a while.

  “Perhaps you should finish your dinner,” Northern suggested.

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “Maybe we should just go to bed?”

  “What?”

  “Get some rest. We have a big day tomorrow.”

  “Uhm … yeah ….” She got up to leave.

  “Oh, and Laura … �
� He reached for her arm.

  Her heart raced and every muscle in her body tensed, for she knew that if he was going to ask her to stay with him, she’d give into her inner feelings. The same ones kindled on Walthor. But this time it would be different. This time … she would say … yes.

  “I want you on the bridge by seven hundred hours, when we’re due for breaking out of Underspace.”

  “Yeah, I’ll be there,” she said, her emotional zeppelin burning to the ground.

  Chapter Eleven

  The Federation guarded its Solar System jealously and carefully, as well it should, for this was the heart of its Empire, in spirit if not in location.

  The argument for centuries had been that Sol and its planets, the birthplace of humankind, the Homeworld, was too distant from the normal starlanes to be a truly effective seat of government. But then, the trouble with the colonies began. Revolutions, rebellions, even reprisals from fleets of Free World ships became a threat. A government seat too close to potential attack was a threat to the whole system; so any attempts to relocate the hub of government were swiftly halted, and a sophisticated defense network was established through the whole Solar System to instantly locate and repel invaders and spies bent upon the destruction or downfall of the august Federated Empire.

  These measures consisted of checkpoints, sophisticated deep space sensors, and force-bubbles, to say nothing of various defensive fighters stationed on every planet, moon, asteroid, or simply patrolling.

  A tough nut to crack. The Starbow had not been in the Solar System since its departure years before, fleeing for its life against Zarpfrin’s pogrom against the sentient ships. However, it did possess in its memory an excellent documentation of all the Federation defenses. The starship slipped unobtrusively from Underspace far enough beyond the orbit of Pluto to go undetected. It was from here that Laura Shemzak had to slip in, alone, armed principally with a disguise, a story, and a knowledge of what areas to avoid.

  Every defense point would be alerted to her, Northern reasoned. They’d be watching for Pilot Laura Shemzak, traitor to the Federation. Maybe she even had some kind of bounty on her head.

  Therefore, the XT 9 had been remodeled and refitted to appear to be an XT 6, the prevalent version of the blip-ship used by the cadre of specially augmented Federation pilots. Identification emanations from the ship were altered—Laura had received a new identity. This, of course, would not hold up very long; but only a short time was needed, they thought, for Laura to get past the checkpoints, penetrate a wafer thin entry window near the BigBox in Denver, and jack the ship’s built in neural interface into the primary system where the Aspach, Mish’s brethren, waited patiently for succor from the malignant system they inhabited. Then, with the stealth of a puma at night, hopefully she would zoom on back to the Starbow.

  After all, it wasn’t as if she were destroying anything, or stealing anything, or doing anything much improper; Overfriend Zarpfrin and the Federation weren’t even cognizant of these creatures’ existence in their very midst. It certainly wasn’t like robbing a bank or anything, Northern and crew reasoned; and Laura would be in and out before the Feddies knew what had happened.

  They had high hopes for Laura’s success.

  Laura, however, had no hope.

  She played her part properly, jauntily wishing them all farewell as she jacked into the XT 9. This time, though she felt her consciousness expand as she became one with the ship, she didn’t feel the usual joy. Oh, there was the usual Zernin rush, the intensification of her senses, but beneath it all she felt despair.

  And not a little dread.

  She shut her mind away from it all; she had to. Just be an automaton, she told herself. Destroy these emotions you feel, these intense regrets, lest they destroy you. After all, survival is all. Survival and duty to yourself.

  Or was that just the goddamned voice talking?

  It had gotten to the point now that she didn’t know the difference between her thoughts and its instructions and warnings.

  The docking bay doors swung open. She swung up on antigravs and let her thrusters blast recklessly, heaving herself into the void. The stars glittered a neon welcome as she thrust herself away from the Starbow, an ellipsoid collection of fire and metal stepping into night.

  When she was far enough away, she went through the preparations of the jump through Underspace that would place her outside Earth’s orbit of the Sun. This was one of the major advantages of a small ship equipped with jump-stasis engines: a quick trip through Underspace was not impossible within a gravity well. Of course, expert piloting and a feel for Underspace travel helped quite a bit, but even with these, a ship with more brass had to travel a certain distance out before it could drop into that mathematical shortcut between normal space distances.

  A voice crackled over her ear-conduit comband. “We’re all with you in spirit,” said Dr. Mish.

  “Thanks,” she returned. “I’ll be as quick as I can.”

  “And Laura,” Dr. Mish continued. “Should there be trouble, remember: my brethren, collectively, have powers when in contact with living beings, powers to let those beings be at their best. Know, them, Laura. And let them know you.”

  “Gotcha, Doc. Over and out.” Laura switched off the channel and went into silent mode.

  They’re not gonna want to know me, she thought with despair. Not a traitorous wimp like Laura Shemzak.

  “Okay,” she growled as she began initial jump procedures. “Mr. Implant, turn up the Zernin, full, ‘cause honey, I’m going to need it to get through this one.”

  Acknowledged, said the voice. She could almost imagine the dispenser adding just an extra little pinch of the drug to her bloodstream, where it would carom down her veins, give her an uplift, a jolt, knock away the blues and sharpen her mind and her abilities.

  And then she felt it, and it was a rush like none other and she felt good again—she felt as though the flashing planets ahead of her, this furnace sun, were hers to pick like wild fruit hanging on the tree of space.

  She laughed a wild and deadly laugh, then her ship winked like a bright eye in the night, and was gone.

  It slipped out, trailing gaseous and sparkling plumes, into the predicted position.

  The Earth and the Moon hung like bright baubles in the sky, while beyond, the sun burned in its beautiful fury.

  She wasted no time in communicating with the Moon Defense Station, lest some watchdog boat was immediately sent snapping at her heels.

  But she didn’t use her disguise. She broadcast her true identification. It didn’t take long for her to get a response, a message directly from Earth. All systems were clear, it said, and she would be allowed to proceed to Denver on the North American continent, as she requested. She would be expected soon.

  One more quick subspace jump flickered her a little closer in; and then she simply turned on thrusters and impellors for a time, found the correct descent window, and dove through it for the brown and green continent awaiting her report.

  Through the clouds and the air she dipped, a navigational force-screen taking up the heat of reentry. In front of her the Rocky Mountains thrust up, snow-peaked. She dashed over them, a vapor-trail streak, and zoomed in for a landing at the private field near the center of the Friend’s control over the stars: the so-called Big Box.

  Security gave her a hole through the force-bubble, and she was down on the field in a flash, landing close to a systems integration facility. She waited until she was cleared for a linkup, then disengaged and stepped out into a bright summer day in Denver, Upper Pan-America. A refreshing breeze tossed her hair about; the familiar and welcomed scents of Earth enveloped her.

  Home.

  This was, after all, where she had been born and raised, and there was something about being on this planet, something about being in exactly the right gravity, breathing exactly the right gas mix in a f
amiliar climate, that gave Laura a sense of rightness despite everything that was wrong now.

  Waiting for her was a ground-car.

  “Pilot Shemzak,” said an officer in a helmet. He saluted her. Saluted her, as though she were some kind of military superior! “We’ve been dispatched to carry you back to headquarters immediately.”

  “Right. By Overfriend Zarpfrin, without a doubt.”

  “I believe so.”

  “Okay. Take me away, I’m all yours.”

  Another uniformed man opened a door for her. She got in and they drove her to the compound. From there she was shuttled up a series of hallways, and scanned at numerous security points, all of which she remembered from her last visit. After the clear, clean air outside, the oppressive well-lighted gray of these passageways was particularly striking, a bold underlining of the Friendly bureaucracy’s emphasis on stark functionality.

  From the interview with Friend Chivon Lasster that had launched her on this wild course, Laura knew that Friend’s offices were only slightly better. So it was a surprise to her when she was ushered to Overfriend Zarpfrin’s office near the top of the building. It was large, roomy, and quite pleasant.

  “You may leave her here, but take up stations by the door,” Zarpfrin ordered the pair bracketing Laura. They obeyed, leaving Laura standing before a long, polished walnut desk. It glimmered with images reflecting off the large vu-tank in the background, and had upon it mounds of administrative data pads. In fact, Zarpfrin had been found, poised light-pen in hand, wearing a pair of half-frames that, in this day and age, was most certainly an eccentricity.

  “Sit down, Laura,” said Zarpfrin. “I must confess I am rather surprised to see you on Earth.”

  He motioned to a plush velvet couch with curlicued arms, perched on a brightly colored Indian rug with tassels. The room itself was sunny, with a wealth of windows looking out on the Colorado plains. Laura was almost fooled by them, for in truth they could only be projected illusions: the Big Box had no windows. Still, the atmospherics of the room made you believe you could just walk over, slide one of those suckers down, and feel an earthy breeze in your face.