STAR HOUNDS -- OMNIBUS

by David Bischoff

  “I’ve fought alongside this guy. We’ve put our lives on the line. He’s my brother,” objected Northern.

  “I’m not denying that,” Mish stated flatly. “But that fact won’t help Shontill with his current situation. We must consider the here and now.”

  “Yes … I see what you mean.” Northern looked over at Shontill. Leaning back, he held up his cup to Shontill and then took a swig of brackish-tasting Arsht ceremonial peace juice. “Sorry, Shontill.”

  “There is no reason to be sorry. And Dr. Mish, the Captain is correct. As I sit and commune with my brethren here, I well understand the nature and value of my communion with the Starbow crew.”

  “Yeah! We like you!” said Northern.

  “Captain!”

  “‘Like’ is a human word, I think,” said Shontill. “I believe I have learned to appreciate that human word—and more … ”

  Northern blinked. Was that some semblance of a smile on Shontill’s wiggly face? He couldn’t help but grin. Either way, Shontill’s attempt at a joke was worth the effort.

  “Right. That’s great,” he said. “So what’s the situation then, Shontill? You can give it to us straight.”

  Shontill said nothing.

  “I assume you’ve been able to glean at least some of the basics, then, old buddy.”

  “The basics,” said Shontill. “Yes. My people found this place, this margin between the universes, millennia ago. However, they abhorred it. They only retreated here in order to escape the Jaxdron. And the Jaxdron absorbed or destroyed their—our—worlds. Now that my people, the Frin’ral, have spent time here, acclimating, they have made their home here. They no longer wish to leave.”

  Northern gestured with frustration. “No one’s asking them to leave! We’re the ones who want to leave!”

  Shontill shook his head. “You do not understand. They live in fear now.”

  “I believe what Shontill is saying is that the Frin’ral have been traumatized.”

  “Traumatized!” Northern glanced over at the odd amalgamating conglomeration. “What? Like a bunch of puppies? Scared to go outside their home?”

  “Young dog animals?” asked Shontill. “I do not understand the allusion.”

  “Look, never mind. The Frin’ral have every right to stay exactly where they are now. That’s their business. And if you want to stay here or go back with us, that’s your business too. But getting back … that’s my business. And I want to know exactly why the Frin’ral don’t want to help us, if only to get us out of their hair.”

  Shontill somehow contrived a look of confusion. “The Frin’ral have no hair.”

  “I’m going to tear my hair out, that’s what I’m going to do!” cried Northern, standing up and getting red in the face.

  “An expression, Shontill,” said Dr. Mish. “An idiom of the human language.”

  “Ah, yes. The tearing out of hair. The rending of clothing. Signs of emotion.”

  “Yes,” said Northern. “And in this case, major frustration. But the answer is still wanting, Shontill. Your people are being obtuse.”

  “Obtuse … ? Do we appear geometrically disorien—”

  “It’s a simple request,” Northern cut in. “Help us get on the Starbow and leave Omega Space!”

  “That is not as simple as you may believe,” said Shontill.

  “Is that what they say? C’mon, guy! Give it up! I’m the Captain. It’s my job to take bad news. Can you at least get the ball rolling on this? We’ve got geniuses with us … good techs and great engineers. We can start to at least work on it. And, as you can see, I’m asking because we know we can’t do it on our own.”

  “I do not mean that the actual problem of getting the Starbow back into Normal Space is insolvable,” assured the alien. “I mean that my people question the wisdom of allowing you, your crew and your vessel to depart.”

  Northern blinked, his face nonplused. “I didn’t realize that the Frin’ral had gotten so fond of us!”

  “Emotion does not play a part.”

  “I would think not,” said Dr. Mish. “But Captain, if I may—”

  Northern gestured towards Shontill with an open palm. “Be my guest. You have an explanation for this insanity?”

  “Perhaps I can approximate one. I should think that the Frin’ral trust us somewhat here in this dimension, but … ”

  “Go on,” urged Northern.

  “Simply put, they don’t trust us back on the … other side, as it were.”

  “What’s that supposed to—?” And then it dawned on him. “Oh. Wait a minute, Shontill. Are you saying that your people believe that we’d betray them? Sell them out to the Federation? Or maybe even to the Jaxdron based on the recent turn of events with Zarpfrin?”

  “Again, a simplistic description,” replied Shontill. “However, at the moment, essentially no one knows where the Frin’ral are. No one in Normal Space knows how to penetrate Omega Space.” The alien paused and gazed at Northern with a blank, neutral stare. “If you leave, that will no longer be the case.”

  “Now look, Shontill—”

  “We have a problem!” Cal said, interrupting their conversation.

  Northern looked up … and immediately froze. His stare centered on Cal, who stood at the entrance buck naked and glistening wet. Standing just behind him was Laura, wearing a short fluffy white terry cloth robe, both arms crossed. Angry.

  “Excuse me,” said Mish, “but we’re having a rather important operational meeting.”

  “It can wait!” Cal said, taking a few soggy steps forward. “Didn’t you hear the distortion boom? If my calculations are correct, someone else just entered Omega Space!”

  Northern realized the conversation was about to take an entirely new set of turns. But as much as he wanted hard facts regarding this unexpected penetration into Omega Space, he suddenly found himself desiring an entirely different set of information. Northern simply couldn’t stop wondering why Cal stood before them naked as jaybird. And of greater import, something more immediately personal to him …

  Was Laura wearing anything under that skimpy robe?

  Chapter Six

  Captain Neil Urnsur of the Federation Star Fleet stood at attention before Friend Arnal Zarpfrin, the sole surviving Overfriend from the Council of Five. Having failed to capture Tars Northern and the Starship Starbow during his last mission, Urnsur had to explain this spectacular failure to Arnal Zarpfrin, the Supreme Overfriend. Sweating, Urnsur prepared for the worst.

  That wasn’t a good thing.

  Sitting across from him, Zarpfrin’s high, shiny forehead reflected in the bright lights of the debriefing room. He was clearly angry. Wiping down his entire face with the palm of his hand, he stopped just over his mouth. Perhaps it was his unconscious attempt to prevent himself from spewing the litany of insults that filled his mind. After all, he was now the Supreme Overfriend. With his new title came a level of expected decorum and grace.

  Still, as displeasing as the situation was, it wasn’t clear to many—including Urnsur—how Zarpfrin had risen to power so quickly, or what had really transpired over the past few days. Yes, Zarpfrin had temporarily assumed the role of Supreme Overfriend, a title that was only used under special situations. However, the deaths of the other four Council members were hard to account for.

  Zarpfrin, along with official news sources, stated that Jaxdron agents had infiltrated the Big Box near Denver and assassinated the Federation’s highest executive body. Given the extreme nature of the attack, Zarpfrin had declared martial law, and vowed not only retribution in the name of the fallen Council members but annihilation of the Jaxdron military, thus bringing about peace.

  Victorious peace.

  Of course, some had doubts. Urnsur was no exception. With the security of the Big Box what it was, he found claims of a Jaxdron assassination somewhat
hard to accept. Moreover, the lack of information regarding the incident appeared suspicious. Still, like so many others, he was powerless to question it. Zarpfrin now controlled the power of the entire Federated Empire of Terran Planets. He was not just the most powerful man in the Federation, but the most powerful being in the entire Human Zone.

  Captain Urnsur prepared for the worst. Stiff as a board, he gritted his teeth and waited. It seemed like forever before he was finally addressed.

  Zarpfrin said, “Telling you that I am disappointed in the results of your mission would be an understatement. You failed me, Captain! You had Northern cornered. How could you have let him get away?”

  “A thousand apologies, sir,” Urnsur stated, perspiration gathering at his temples. “By all accounts, there was no way for Northern to escape.”

  “And yet he did … obviously!”

  “By creating some new jump gate, apparently. I’m sorry, sir, it took all of us by surprise.”

  Zarpfrin would normally have bitten the heads off of subordinates using unproven phenomena as excuses for failure. However, this was Tars Northern being discussed. Zarpfrin had seen firsthand how such a man could escape from even the most ironclad of confinements. Northern’s tactics were never impossible, but existed so far off the standard bell curve that when finally revealed they verged on the inexplicable.

  Zarpfrin made a fist and pounded his desk. “So that’s it? He’s scot-free? As simple as that?”

  “Sir, if you’d allow me to explain, I believe that in the long run this situation may prove beneficial.”

  Zarpfrin raised his left eyebrow ever-so-slightly. “How so?”

  Tugging at his collar, Captain Urnsur pulled out a data pad from his attaché and handed it to Zarpfrin. On it was contained a compendium of reports compiled by the mission’s post analysis team. The list was long and too laborious to understand with only a perfunctory glance.

  “What precisely is this?” Zarpfrin demanded.

  “Sir, just before our meeting, these reports came in from the analysis team. Specifically, they concern the debriefing of some hostages that we rescued from the … uhm … Jaxdron base that claimed to be within a no-fly-zone.”

  Zarpfrin glared at Urnsur angrily. “Yes … well, a ridiculous ploy by the enemy. Who were these hostages?”

  “Even though all Jaxdron prisoners evacuated before we landed, we found a number of humans thought to be Federation citizens held against their will. Of course, they could have been traitors too. Naturally, a full debriefing was made to ascertain the nature of their presence.”

  “Get to the point, Captain,” Zarpfrin said, his patience running thin.

  “Well, it seems all fifty of them were clones.”

  “Clones, you say? Clones of who?”

  “Calspar Shemzak … the brother of Laura Shemzak, sir. And as a scientist taken from our research lab on Mulliphen, I would add that he was a key reason Northern was able to escape.”

  Zarpfrin sat up. He knew that Laura Shemzak had both shot and captured clones of her brother, Calspar Shemzak. All part of his devious plan to use her as an executioner. However, Zarpfrin had never realized there were more of them around. What were those damn Jaxdron up to? He made a mental note to check with his Jaxdron contacts about this later. For now, hearing that Cal was now involved with Northern made him worry. He needed to hear more.

  “I don’t understand? Who exactly was the reason for their escape? Are you talking about the real Cal Shemzak or clones of the man?”

  “Both really,” Urnsur explained. “It seems the Jaxdron had captured Shemzak and made a number of clones for experimentation. When we found them they—”

  “What sort of experiments?” Zarpfrin blurted.

  “Sir?”

  “Do you know the nature of the Jaxdron experiments?”

  “Partly,” Urnsur explained. “The real Shemzak escaped on the Starbow, but it seems he effected his escape using the boosted mental capability of the clones via some type of Jaxdron neural interface. Since the clones seem to know what transpired, we’re now questioning them all on the nature of the jump portal, but—”

  “Hold on, Captain,” said Zarpfrin. “You mean to say that these clones worked with the real Shemzak to create a jump portal, big enough for the Starbow to escape?”

  Urnsur tugged at his collar again. “Yes, sir. It seems so.”

  “And do these clones know where the Starbow jumped to?”

  “Yes, sir. It seems so. But the exact—”

  “Dammit, where did they go?” Zarpfrin said, teeth clenched to the breaking point.

  “Omega Space, sir.”

  “Omega Space?” Zarpfrin almost jumped out of his seat. “The clones have the capability of jumping a ship into Omega Space and I wasn’t informed?”

  “If you’d allow me to explain, sir. The clones worked with the real Shemzak to create the portal. However, it seems that they were not able to create the portal on their own.”

  “What? Why the hell not?”

  “That is not entirely clear, sir.” Urnsur said. “These reports I gave you contain explanations by the leader of the group. We’re still trying to—”

  “Bring them here!” shouted Zarpfrin, his face beginning to turn purple with rage.

  “Sir?”

  “The clones,” hissed Zarpfrin. “All of them, or any leaders we know about from debriefing. I’ll question them myself. Very thoroughly.”

  Zarpfrin’s request was strange. Such questioning was always left to subordinate staff, but Urnsur wasn’t about to question Zarpfrin’s orders. Immediately upon leaving his commander’s presence he contacted the holding facility within the Big Box and had one Shemzak clone—the leader, presumably—brought before Zarpfrin.

  The clone didn’t seem to be concerned about its personal well being, or what Zarpfrin might do to it if things went badly. Smiling, it stood before Zarpfrin and Urnsur bound hand and leg with force bands, and casually examined the curios displayed in Zarpfrin’s office with the naïve curiosity of a child even as the guards and Captain Urnsur exited the room.

  “Identify yourself,” said Zarpfrin. “Who or what exactly are you?”

  “My name is Calspar Shemzak,” said the clone.

  Zarpfrin snorted. “No, you are not Calspar Shemzak. The real Shemzak is now in an unknown location aboard the Starbow in the company of pi-merc Captain Tars Northern, a fact of which you are well aware. You are a clone, and I demand that you explain yourself, tell me who created you, and reveal your true purpose.”

  “I suppose which of us is correct is a matter of how the question of identity is framed,” said the clone, grinning. “I and my brothers were artificially created by our Jaxdron masters. Yet we still consider ourselves to be Calspar Shemzak. Our minds are, for the most part, identical and our memories are the same. What is identity other than memory?”

  Zarpfrin was amused but also somewhat startled. “You mean to say that you’ve all the memories of Shemzak?”

  “Many. Perhaps most. We were created with those memories that are the essence of our Alpha, the original, the Calspar Shemzak from which all others have followed. And, of course, we shared a neural interface while we escaped into—”

  “Yes, I know,” said Zarpfrin, losing his patience. “I was informed that you were able to link up with Shemzak to open the Jump portal into Omega Space.”

  “That’s right.”

  “So it’s true! You know how to enter Omega Space!”

  “No.”

  Zarpfrin gaped at the clone for a moment with a perplexed expression. “What?”

  “I and my brothers cannot open the portal.”

  Zarpfrin was flustered. “But you did! You practically told me so. That’s how the Starbow escaped!”

  “True, but you see—” The clone paused in midsentence, appearing brie
fly distracted. “This may seem a bit forward of me, but do you have anything to eat? I am absolutely starving. Telling this story would be so much easier if I could have access to a small meal, perhaps some sandwiches … ”

  Zarpfrin gave the prisoner a disgusted glare. “You’ll eat when you’ve answered my questions, clone,” said Zarpfrin, “and you’ll be lucky to get old food scrapings served on crackers. Now finish what you were saying!”

  Shemzak Beta—or Gamma or Omega or whatever his sequence in the clonish pecking order happened to be—huffed loudly, then relinquished in the face of his captor’s obstinacy. He continued. “I was going to say that our Alpha, the one you call the ‘real’ Shemzak, was the one who opened the portal with our mental augmentation.”

  “You have no knowledge of this on your own?”

  The clone tapped his chin. “Well … I wouldn’t say that. Just as the Starbow penetrated Omega Space, my brothers and I all shared knowledge of the mathematics involved. We might be able to create a portal if we could go back to Snar’shill or maybe Mulliphen and continue the experiments that were started there. But that would not be possible, I’d imagine.”

  Zarpfrin considered the situation. His initial schemes were all built around the need to keep humanity out of Omega Space, to hand that task over to the Jaxdron and corral humanity for a more sensible evolution of the human species without interruptions from other dimensions, whether good or ill. But Northern and the Starbow were now major thorns in his side. Entering Omega Space had become a matter of personal interest.

  Looking at the Shemzak clone, Zarpfrin realized that maybe the situation that currently presented itself could be exploited to greater ends. If Omega Space could be penetrated on a tactical basis, he might just be able to kill multiple birds with a single stone. And now that he was Supreme Overfriend, the logistics would prove no barrier. Smiling coyly, it didn’t take long for Zarpfrin’s machinations to percolate into an idea.

  Zarpfrin stood up and approached the clone in a friendly manner. “Let me offer the following. I can provide you access to our Mulliphen research laboratory, and any other resources you need. You work with all your other clones and complete the development of the portal. Once successful, you’ll be free to return to your Jaxdron masters, or anywhere else you’d like to go.”