by Zach Hughes
"You might try bypassing this sector," Lex suggested to the Chief Tech, a man who occasionally drank with him and Jakkes.
Empire techs did things by the book. The Chief looked at him blankly, asking silently what Gunner knew about 'chinery, and turned back. The next blink showed an error of just under one quarter light-year and left them a week's run at mini-blink speed to the appointed station, making the opposition Cassie a little nervous. Lex was on the bridge at his gunnery station when the communication came through.
"You're consistently giving us false information," the Cassie sent.
"Computer failure," theGrus sent,
"Let us hope that your errant computer does not send you into our space," the Cassie sent.
So another element of tension was added, for the patrol route was along the line, close in, and the Cassie opposite was a new Vandy type with all the latest gear. There hadn't been a duel in the core sector in decades, but as theGrus limped and missed, limped and missed, the communications from the Cassie became more and more curt.
"He thinks we're up to something," Jakkes said. "We're going to have to fight him sure as hell."
"We haven't even got the latest screen on this old tub," said the Tech Chief, who was drinking with them. "And he's got us outgunned."
"You think he'd take us in a fight, then?" Lex asked.
"No doubt about it," Jakkes said.
"Why don't you bypass that defective lobe and give us at least that much?" Lex asked.
"Look, Texas," the Tech Chief said, "you just don't go frigging around with a computer. That lobe was put there for a reason. I have no idea what would happen if we blinked with that lobe bypassed and I don't intend to find out."
"It was put there to handle information not needed on a blink," Lex said.
"In view of your erratic and deceptive behavior," the Cassiopeian Vandy sent, "we must reluctantly challenge you."
The honor of the Emperor was at stake. Captain Wal knew that he had a slim chance in a head-to-head duel with the new Cassie Vandy and he answered with his head high, but with inner anger. So it was to end like this, out here in the core, on a ship which was years overdue for the junk heap.
"In the name of the Emperor, I accept your challenge," Wal sent. He followed, since he was the challenged party, with a time in universal and with coordinates in a clear area of space which would give his errant computer room for wide misses.
"Do we have to fight him?" Lex asked Jakkes.
"It's the code."
"Let me be sure I understand," Lex said. "We blink out at a place we've given him in advance and he'll be there and then we just sit there blasting at each other until something gives."
"That's the way it is."
"Why?"
Jakkes shook his head. "Hell, that's just the way it is."
"It's based on trust," the Tech Chief said. "By making the duel conform to tradition we assure the Cassie and he assures us that the duel is an isolated engagement and that neither of us is up to any tricks. That keeps it one ship on one ship and doesn't expand the fight."
"But we're apt to miss the coordinate by a few million miles and make him think we're trying to sneak by him into Cassie space," Jakkes said.
"If we do, we'll have a battle fleet down on our ass in hours," the Tech Chief said.
Jakkes was getting drunk rapidly. He looked at Lex with watery eyes. "If you want to write any last letters home, better get with it."
Lex didn't even know where home was. And he wasn't ready to write last letters. He'd done two of his years with the fleet and he'd even begun to believe, after the slow passage of what seemed like aeons of time, that he'd live to see Texas again as a free man.
The Captain called a crew meeting. "Fleeters," he said, standing tall in his finest dress uniform, "for those of you who have not dueled, I will explain. At the given moment, theGrus will go into normal space at a prearranged point. The enemy will blink in at the same instant. Should there be a slight discrepancy in blink times, there is a short period of adjustment allowable. When both ships are on station, armed, screened properly, a signal will be exchanged. That is when the reactions of the gun crew become of utmost importance. The gun crew which reacts quickest to the signal will be victorious. I have the utmost confidence that it will be you." He looked directly at Lex, who was on the main battery control on the bridge because of his superior reaction time.
There was more about honor and duty to Empire and Lex was sitting there thinking that something was wrong with the entire setup. Here they were, about to go willingly into a situation where they would be at a disadvantage. Even if they had been evenly matched it seemed foolish to him to fight on prearranged terms. He'd never been in a fight to the death, but he'd faced a couple of tough old Bojack farls and when you're up against something or someone who is trying to kill you you don't give advantage. You take advantage if you can.
He thought about it through the waiting period and then, just before he knew that the ship was going to be called to battle stations, he went down into the navigator's room where his friend, the Tech Chief, was working feverishly on the computer.
"How is it?" Lex asked.
"I won't guarantee it," the Chief said. "There's a galloping decay in that damned lobe."
"What happens if we miss the appointed coordinate?"
"They start blasting, if they can. If they can't, they call in a fleet. There's one standing by a blink away. Either way if we miss it we've had it."
"And we're going to miss it, just as we've missed each blink point for the last few weeks," Lex said.
"Bet your ass on it," the Chief said.
"It's the only ass I've got," Lex said, putting his hand on a heavy wrench, lifting it, carefully demolishing the sick lobe.
"Now bypass that bastard," he said, as the crew stood there, shocked.
They had no other choice.
There was no time to test the jury-rigged computer. It was time to defend the honor of the Emperor. Captain Arden Wal sounded stations. TheGrus came alive, quivered. At the appointed second she blinked and came out on the nose with the Cassie Vandy sitting within point-blank range getting ready to put up her screens for the duel.
There was a ritual for it. Wal sent his greeting. His greeting was returned gravely in the voice of a Cassiopeian. The next order was to be, "Screens up." After that there would be the mutual signal and the duel would begin.
Only it didn't go that way.
When he got into position, on the instant of blinking out, Lex was already arming his battery. He punched it in, programmed it. He could see the Cassie with his naked eye. At that range, with her screens not yet in place, she was a sitting duck. The Cassie didn't know what hit her. She vaporized and was no more.
There was a stunned silence on the bridge. Arden Wal's face went white. For three hundred years the honorable duel had been the accepted method of keeping a war relatively cool, of testing new weapons, of providing a victory for either side to propagandize. Now, at the hands of one crewman, the entire concept was shot down. He was shocked into momentary immobility, then he turned his attention to the scanners. By all rights there should be a Cassiopeian battle fleet blinking in at that very moment. However, space was empty. After five minutes of tense waiting, Wal concluded that the Cassie had not sent a signal to the waiting fleet, that the suddenness of its destruction had prevented a report of the unbelievable action of the Empire Vandy.
He had time, then, to walk slowly to Lex's station. Lex was retiring his weapons, clearing charge on them,
Returning them to their pods. "Congratulations, son," Wal said in an even, tired voice. "You've killed us." Lex looked up. "If I may speak, sir?"
"Yes," Wal said wearily.
"I think I saved our lives, sir."
"For the moment," Wal said. "However, we have violated the Military Code of Honor as it has never been violated before. Every action, every signal is recorded in the ship's Automatic Record. That record will be inspected w
hen we return to port. There is no way of erasing it. Tampering with an Automatic Record is a death offense, just as violating the Code is a death offense."
The First Officer stood at Lex's back, hand weapon pointed at Lex's head. "Shall I put him in the brig, sir?"
"Why bother?" Wal said.
"Damned Texican," the First Officer said, his hand white on his weapon.
"Texican?" Wal asked.
"This is the one, sir, the outworlder."
"Yes, yes," Wal said. "I've been meaning to have a chat with you." Actually he'd been putting it off. He had been afraid, having been harmed twice through contact with Texicans, that he would, face to face with one, lose his control. He knew, now, that Texicans had precipitated the Battle of Wolf's Star, where he'd lost his fine middleguard cruiser. He knew that the Texicans had led him into the Cassiopeian ambush, asa result of which he'd lost a splendid Vandy. It was because of Texas and Texicans that he was in command of a junk ship. And now, because of a Texican, he, as Captain and therefore responsible, would share this boy's guilt for blasting an enemy in violation of the Code.
And now that he was face to face with the Texican, he felt only an overwhelming sadness, and a hint of curiosity.
"Please bring him to my cabin," he said, turning his back. "And resume patrol." Halfway out the door leading from the bridge, he turned. "And you may say, in your report home, that we have emerged victorious in a duel with a Class-A Cassiopeian Vanguard destroyer."
He would at least have the rest of his patrol time to live. There was no reason to go rushing back to face sure conviction.
Chapter Six
"I did it, sir," Lex said, standing at attention in the Captain's cramped quarters, "because someday I'm going to be free to go home, back to Texas."
"Is Texas so heavenly that a man will violate his honor for her?" Wal sat, slumped tiredly over his small writing desk.
"Sir, with all respect, it was not my honor which I violated, it was yours. Or the Empire's. Or something. I mean, sir, that I wasn't the one who made the rules."
"The rules, fleeter, are the result of centuries of tradition. Till now, they've worked fairly well to keep us all alive."
"They wouldn't have kept us alive, sir," Lex said. "In fact, they seemed sure to get us dead."
"Rules are designed for the good of all," Wal said. Why, he asked himself, was he so calmly debating with this outworlder? "Is it every man for himself on Texas?"
"No," Lex said. "On Texas it's all for one and one for all, sir. And they, meaning that nebulous 'they' which we use when we talk about people we don't really know, people who have life-and-death power over us, don't make rules which would devalue the life of a single Texican as our lives were devalued by the situation wherein we faced a superior force and were forced to fight on terms not of our choosing."
"An interesting thought," Wal said, "in keeping, I think, with the rather incredible story which has been told about the Battle of Wolfs Star. I have heard that a Texican fleet moved to save one individual."
"It's true, sir."
"But they sent you out into the Empire to take your punishment," Wal said.
"I was given a choice, sir."
The Captain looked at Lex with knitted brows. He was trying to imagine a like situation in the Empire. He knew that the individual involved would not even be consulted, not given a voice, much less a choice. "Sit down, Gunner. Tell me about this Texas of yours."
Lex made himself as comfortable as possible in the undersized chair in front of the Captain's desk. Big, lanky, he spilled over the edges, leaned one elbow on the back. His ease in the presence of a superior impressed Wal and, as the Captain listened, he began to make unconscious comparisons.
Arden Wal was a loyal man. He was a Vegan. He'd spent his formative years at the heart of the Empire, had been educated in the best schools and at the Academy on Polaris Two. He was a man of some intelligence. His mind was never satisfied with the knowledge it held, always seeking more data. At fifty, he was in the prime of his middle manhood. He had never formed a permanent relationship with a woman. His love had always been the fleet and, for a long time, until the last Texican incident, he'd entertained hopes of rising in rank to, someday, command an entire sector. His cabin was neatly arranged, everything in its place, but packed to capacity with electrobooks, star charts and an impressive collection of antique printed books which included, as his prime source of pride, ancient star catalogues from the old Earth, theBanner Durchmusterung , first edition, listing 324,000 stars north of -2 degrees declination from the Earth; Schonfeld's extended catalogue and theCordoba Durchmusterung , the Cape Photographic Durchmusterung , theCarte du Ciel . In addition to the priceless ancient catalogues, of value for their age, their quaintness, there were hundreds of carefully cross-filed electro-charts, a collection of star knowledge which covered the charted galaxy. Wal had traveled many of the blink lines charted in theComplete Empire Spaceways and, as First Officer of an exploration scout, he'd personally helped to add to the continually growing charts. He was a cosmopolitan man in the true sense, having seen the Empire from old Earth to the far reaches of the periphery, its cities, its mining planets, its museums and prisons and fisheries, its agriculture and its people. But he'd never seen Texas and he'd never heard of a society wherein the individual mattered more than the whole.
As Lex rambled on, taking the opportunity to talk of home, Wal was fascinated.
TheGrus blinked accurately, contacted a new opposite, sent out to replace the lost Cassie Vandy, and an hour passed. Wal offered Eridani brandy, warmed his glass in his hand as Lex talked about the big planet somewhere far out past the extent of Empire and Wal asked questions about its people, its industry, its war potential. Lex told him about the Darlene, about the maneuverability of an airors, about Texas' need for metals. But it was government which caught Wal's attention for long minutes.
"A board of citizens appoints a President?" he asked, unbelievingly.
"No one really wants the job," Lex said. "But if he's chosen he serves."
"No one wants it?"
"Heck, no. Who'd want to spend his time pushing papers and talking with everyone who has an idea or a complaint when he could be on his own land, growing his own meacrs, or out hunting in the desert?"
"No Texican, then, seeks power for the sake of power?" Wal asked sarcastically.
"I can't speak for all of them," Lex said, "but when my father was appointed President he tried like hell to get out of it, and we almost had to hog-tie old Andy Gar to get him to serve."
Three brandies later Lex was talking wistfully about how he and ole Billy Bob went riding over the desert and how they shot low vectors at the hills and caught sanrabs with their bare hands and Wal found himself laughing. By this time he was convinced that Lex had no idea where Texas was located, except that it was well beyond Empire control areas and lonely in its big skies. And he was convinced, also, that Texicans were very atypical people. He had to admit that their ideas about keeping a planet livable were sensible. Overcrowding was a problem throughout the Empire and the drain of energies and goods and wealth to people unable to fend for themselves was a growing cancer. Instead of being angry with the young man, he was coming to like him. Lex's casual dismissal of his actions toward the ailing computer impressed him. The lad had not only thrown out every regulation in the book regarding destruction of fleet equipment, but he'd been right. And according to him every Texican who had attended a school would have recognized the necessity to disconnect the sick lobe. Wal envisioned a planet filled with men like Lex, intuitive tinkerers at home with machinery and electronics, able to mend and make do without the basic theory behind their actions.
As a military man, he was impressed by the Texicans' ability to destroy major Cassiopeian battle ships not only without fear of retaliation, but without detection. And he was inordinately interested in the double-blink technique which allowed a Texican ship to blink in and out of danger while others, like this new and impre
ssive Vandy, had to sit and wait for recharging, taking the accumulated fire of a fleet while doing it, or use the last charging reserve and kill a ship to escape.
It was new data for his greedy mind. He fed the young Gunner brandy until he was satisfied that he'd picked all the available information and then he listened as Lex talked of his family with a loneliness which was touching. Sobered, Wal was reminded that both he and the Texican were dead men.
"I'm very sorry that you will never see them again," he said.
"But I will," Lex said. "Somehow I will." "When we get back to base we'll both be brought up on charges the second the Automatic Record is
monitored," Wal said. "Sir, I've been thinking about that. Why do we have to go back to base?" "Shall we sneak up and destroy the entire Empire as you destroyed the Cassie?" "We don't have to, sir. We can go to Texas." When it was said, Wal realized that he'd been waiting for the boy to say it. He mused silently for a
moment.
"With all respect, sir, you don't look like a man who would just lie down and let someone kill him for using common sense." "You used common sense," Wal said, realizing that the brandy was getting to him. "If I had known that it would get you in trouble too I might not have." "And you're not using it now," Wal said. "Even if we entertained the idea of defecting to your Texas—" "I know," Lex said. "I don't know where it is. But we're still trading with the Empire, aren't we? I had a
steak from Texas in a restaurant on Luyten not long ago. And if we're still trading, we can find the
rendezvous point and contact a Texican ship." "And if your escape from your punishment angers the Emperor to the point of stopping the trading, then-what? You'd be right back where you started."