Starship: Mercenary (Starship, Book 3)

by Resnick, Mike

  “Then ask which one is Quinta.”

  “David, stop giving me a hard time and get your ass down to the bay.”

  “I can’t, Steerforth!”

  “I read the book too,” said Cole. “Are you trying to tell me that David Copperfield was a coward?”

  “He was a survivor!” said Copperfield.

  “You’ll survive. Just get down there.”

  “Your team are just mercenaries, doing a job,” said Copperfield desperately. “The Thuggees know that. But I’m a fence—or at least I was. And we’re here because of what they do to fences.”

  “Just tell them you’re not a fence anymore.”

  “Why should they listen? I’ll be the one who identifies Quinta.”

  Val’s image appeared to the right of Copperfield’s. “I’ve been listening,” she said. “Let him stay. I don’t want any cowards serving with me.”

  “I’m not serving at all!” shouted Copperfield. “I’m a businessman and a Victorian gentleman!”

  “Keep him,” said Val.

  “You’re sure?” asked Cole.

  “The soiled pants might give us away.”

  “I resent that!” said Copperfield.

  “Okay, come along then,” she said.

  “I said I resented it,” said Copperfield morosely. “I never said I denied it.”

  “We’re just about ready to go,” announced Val. “We’ll have the party loaded and be on our way in less than a minute.”

  “Once you touch down on the planet, leave one member of your party aboard the Edith,” said Cole.

  “Why?”

  “To make sure it’s still there when you get back.”

  “All right,” she agreed. “It makes sense.”

  Her image vanished, and Cole decided he had nothing further to say to David so he broke the connection.

  He watched the viewscreen on the shuttle through the holocam on Sokolov’s shoulder. Val had elected not to approach the city directly with the Edith, but to fly toward the ocean separating Jaipur from its sister continents. Curious, he mused, that all their nations and continents are named after Indian cities, but nothing is named India.

  The shuttlecraft got to within two hundred feet of the ocean’s surface, then leveled out and headed west toward Jaipur. Once there it went lower still, avoiding all conventional radar and sensing devices, and finally, about twenty minutes later, it touched down about two miles beyond what was obviously the city where Quinta was incarcerated. The team silently emerged from the shuttle and began moving stealthily toward the outskirts of the city, keeping to the shadows along the poorly lit minor streets.

  Damn it! thought Cole, as he watched them through Sokolov’s camera. Val’s too big! She stands out.

  The party made its way deep into the heart of the city through the crazily winding streets, around oddly shaped buildings, with Val constantly checking her wrist computer. Then, finally, she gave the signal to halt, and using more hand signals began dividing her party and scattering them around a massive stone building, and Cole knew they had reached their destination. One by one they vanished into the building—

  —And then, suddenly, Cole could hear an ear-shattering alarm. The scene on Sokolov’s holocam became too blurred to follow, as he spun, ran, avoided a laser blast, disabled a Thuggee at close quarters, and dove for cover amid more beams of solid light. Cole could hear Val’s bellowed curses over the hum of lasers, the buzz of screechers, even the thunderclaps of projectile weapons.

  “I don’t know if you can hear me, sir,” said Sokolov’s voice, “but we’ve got a bit of a situation here. I think we’re—”

  And then the transmission stopped as an old-fashioned bullet tore through the holocam.

  “Vladimir!” shouted Cole. “Can you hear me?”

  There was only silence at the other end.

  20

  “Shit!” muttered Cole. “Who’s on the Edith?”

  “Lieutenant Mueller.”

  “Patch me through,” said Cole. “Idena, this is Cole. Take off this instant.”

  “But sir,” said Idena Miller’s voice. “I’m waiting for—“

  “No arguments! Just do it!”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “We’ve got to help them, Wilson,” said Forrice.

  “I know. Pilot, take us down to within half a mile of the surface, and hold us steady directly above the jail.”

  Forrice headed off to the airlift. “I’m going down to Gunnery,” he said. “Give me half a minute to get there, then tell me what you want and where you want it aimed.”

  “Will do. Someone get Christine up here!” ordered Cole.

  “She’s sleeping,” said Jaxtaboxl.

  “Then wake her. I want her up here.”

  “But—”

  “I don’t mean to hurt your feelings,” said Cole, “but our people are in danger down there, and I want the best I’ve got.” He turned to Wxakgini. “Pilot, how’s it coming?”

  “Another twenty seconds,” replied Wxakgini.

  “Where’s Briggs?”

  “I’m not sure, sir,” said Jaxtaboxl.

  “Find him and get him up here, on the double!”

  “I’ve summoned him.”

  “When he gets here,” said Cole, “put him on the armory console.”

  “I thought Commander Forrice was handling the weaponry, sir,” said Jaxtaboxl.

  “He’s on offense,” said Cole. “If they start shooting back, I need someone to do nothing but handle our defenses. That’s Briggs.”

  “We have arrived at the location you requested,” announced Wxakgini.

  “All right. Four Eyes, can you hear me?”

  “Yes,” answered the Molarian.

  “Home in on any building you like within a city block of the jail, and blow it away. If you can find one with all the lights out, one that looks empty, so much the better, but don’t waste any time.”

  “Weapon?”

  “Level 3 laser. Let’s let ’em think we’re no better armed than they are, so they’ll concentrate on shooting us down. If we give ’em any time to consider their situation, they’ll hit on the notion of holding our people hostage.”

  “Done,” announced Forrice. “I just took out a building thirty yards northwest of the jail.”

  “Are there any vehicles in the street?”

  “I think so,” answered the Molarian. “They’re not like any I’ve ever seen, but they’re clearly not dwellings, and they are outside. Wait! One’s moving. Yes, they’re definitely vehicles.”

  “Do whatever it takes with the lasers to set half a dozen of them on fire.”

  “Four . . . five . . . all done, that’s six.”

  “That should convince them there are more important things to worry about than the jail.”

  Christine came onto the bridge and walked immediately to her station.

  “Sorry to wake you,” said Cole. “Monitor any transmissions coming from the jail or the city and let me know what’s happening. Where the hell is Briggs?”

  As if in answer, Malcolm Briggs reached the bridge.

  “What’s going on, sir?” he asked.

  “The landing party’s in trouble, and we’re doing what we can to divert the Thuggees’ attention. If we’re successful they’re going to start shooting at us. It’s your job to make sure nothing gets through.”

  “Yes, sir,” he said, rushing to the armory console. “Do you want me to take over the offensive weaponry as well?”

  “No, Four Eyes is on it,” answered Cole. “Just make sure they don’t hit us.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “What about me, sir?” asked Jaxtaboxl, who was now without a station.

  “Put together another party,” said Cole. “Eight members, all armed, and get down to the shuttle bay.”

  “Yes, sir. We can be ready to attack in five minutes.”

  “You’re not attacking anyone. We can do that just fine from up here. But if we’ve got any survi
vors at all, we’re going to have some walking and nonwalking wounded. They can’t go through two miles of hostile territory to get back to the Edith, and besides, it’s not there anymore. Once we soften up the opposition, you’ll land the shuttle right at the jail and evacuate them.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Jaxtaboxl, hastening off to gather his landing party.

  “They’re firing back, sir,” announced Briggs. “Level 2 thumpers and Level 3 burners. Nothing we can’t handle.”

  “Four Eyes,” said Cole, “pinpoint where the thumpers and burners are and blow them away.”

  There was a brief silence.

  “They’re history,” announced Forrice.

  “Christine,” said Cole, “any word from Sokolov or the others?”

  “Nothing, sir.”

  “How about the enemy’s brass? What are they saying?”

  “They know they’re under attack, but they don’t know who’s doing it or why,” answered Christine.

  “Someone had to give the order to fire on us,” said Cole. “Can you pinpoint him and put me through to him?”

  “Not yet, sir.”

  “Work at it.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And patch me through to Mr. Odom.”

  “Done, sir.”

  The image of Mustapha Odom, the ship’s engineer, suddenly appeared on the bridge.

  “Yes, Captain?” asked Odom.

  “You’ve doubtless noticed that we’re in a minor action,” said Cole. “It’s nothing the Teddy R can’t handle—Level 2 thumpers and Level 3 burners. But I may have to send the Kermit or one of the other shuttles down to the surface. Can it withstand them?”

  “The burners are no problem, not below Level 4,” answered Odom. “But the thumpers are another matter. They can blow the shuttle off course, which is easily correctable . . . but it’s also possible they could pound it with such force that the shock does serious harm to the passengers even while not destroying the Kermit itself.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Odom,” said Cole. “Jack-in-the-Box?”

  “Yes, sir?” came Jaxtaboxl’s voice.

  “Stand ready, but that shuttle doesn’t budge without my express order, is that understood?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Have they fired again, Mr. Briggs?”

  “No, sir. I don’t think they will, now that they know they can’t harm us and we can take out their weapons as fast as we spot them.”

  “Christine—anything yet?”

  “Possibly, sir,” she said. “I can’t guarantee this is the person you want, but I have one that most of the military seems to be reporting to.”

  “All right,” said Cole. “Let’s see if we can end this without another shot being fired. What’s the name of the Thuggee we traded the weapons to? Rashid?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Have his holograph on standby, and put me through.”

  “I can’t pinpoint just the leader, sir,” said Christine apologetically. “You’re going to get anyone standing near him as well.”

  “That’s fine. Just do it.”

  And suddenly Cole was facing the image of three Thuggees, one seated, two standing behind him. All three were dressed the same as Rashid—naked except for a single sash bearing their rank and insignia.

  “I am Wilson Cole, Captain of the Theodore Roosevelt.”

  The seated Thuggee looked straight ahead, obviously staring at Cole’s image. “I am Nasir, Commandant of the city of Jamata. Why have you attacked us?”

  “You are holding a prisoner named Quinta, a member of the Thrale race,” said Cole. “We want him.”

  “I assume those were your representatives who tried to force their way in?”

  “That’s right. I want them, too. Alive.”

  “You break our laws and fire upon our appointed peacekeepers, and you expect me to bargain with you?”

  “There’s not much of a bargain involved. I want them back, and you’re going to give them to me.”

  “I may very well do that, but not alive.”

  “I think you will,” said Cole. “You haven’t heard my offer yet.”

  “What do I care about your offer? Obviously you will threaten to kill us if we don’t comply, and clearly you have the power to do it, but that will not get your crew back alive. If your weapons don’t kill them as well as us, then we will kill them before you annihilate us.”

  “I’m all through firing from space,” said Cole. “That was just to get your attention, and I deeply regret any harm we may have caused to any of your citizens. But I really think you should listen to my offer. I’m only going to make it once, and it’s nonnegotiable.”

  “All right, Captain Cole,” said Nasir. “Let me hear it, and then pray to your deity for your crewmen.”

  “I’m going to send a shuttlecraft down to the planet. It will land directly in front of the jail, and will evacuate my crew members and the prisoner Quinta. You will not harm or hinder them in any way.”

  “You are delusional, Captain Cole.”

  “You didn’t let me finish,” said Cole. “If my conditions are not met, my ship will not fire another shot or harass you in any way. But . . .” He turned to Christine and lowered his voice. “Send down the holo of Rashid.” He raised his voice again. “But I will give, not sell, ten Level 5 pulse cannons and ten Level 5 laser cannons to my friend Rashid, of the nation of Punjab, whose image you can now see. The Theodore Roosevelt has no interest in conquest or annexation. If we were to punish you for killing our crew and your prisoner, we’d kill some of your leaders, we might even take out your entire city if you inflicted additional suffering upon our crew members, but that would be the end of it. The rest of your nation would continue to go about its business. I don’t think you can count on the leaders of Punjab to have such short attention spans.” He paused for the consequences to sink in. “You have two Standard minutes, Nasir.”

  It didn’t take two minutes. It didn’t even take thirty seconds. Nasir knew when he was beaten.

  “Send your shuttle down,” he said after a very brief hesitation. “We will not harm it.”

  “It’s on its way,” said Cole. “We lost contact with our landing party a few minutes ago. If anyone’s still shooting inside the jail, tell them to end it. Now!”

  “If it’s still going on, it will stop,” promised Nasir.

  Cole nodded to Christine, who broke the connection.

  “Jack-in-the-Box?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Get moving. Theoretically no one will bother you, but be prepared for anything. It’s always possible that Nasir can’t get word to the Thuggees inside the jail.”

  “We’re heavily armed and ready, sir,” said Jaxtaboxl.

  “Four Eyes?” said Cole.

  “I know,” answered the Molarian. “I’ll cover them all the way down and all the way back.”

  “Christine, announce to the crew that the second the shuttle’s back the Teddy R is heading for the nearest medical facility.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “All right,” said Cole as the shuttle took off for Jaipur. “Now we wait.”

  It took seventeen minutes for the Kermit to land, evacuate the crew members and the prisoner, and return to the Teddy R, followed by the Edith, which had taken up a high orbit around Calcutta. Cole sent Slick and two others down to the bay to help move the wounded to the infirmary.

  “What’s the body count?” he asked after the shuttle had been emptied.

  “The good news is that Val is unscathed, sir,” reported Slick.

  “That figures,” said Cole. “Give me fifty like her and I could probably overthrow the Republic. Now how about the bad news?”

  “James Nichols is dead,” said Slick. “Dan Moyer and Vladimir Sokolov have serious wounds. Idena Mueller, Rachel Marcos, Eric Pampas, Jacillios, and Braxite have minor, or at least non-life-threatening, wounds. The Thrale seems to be fine.”

  “All right,” said Cole. “See to it that they’
re made as comfortable as possible. Sharon’s got the combination to the medical supply cabinet. We’ve got some alphanella seeds stashed away there. Give one seed each to Moyer and Sokolov to chew, and then make sure you lock the damned thing up again.”

  “I’m ahead of you,” broke in Sharon. “I’ll have the seeds waiting when they get to the infirmary.”

  “Thanks,” said Cole.

  “Aren’t alphanella seeds illegal even for medical treatment?” asked Christine as Cole broke the connection.

  “Yeah, back in the Republic,” answered Cole. “Nothing much is illegal on the Inner Frontier. I confiscated the seeds the first month I reported for duty here. I thought we’d use them to trade for information when we were in the pirate trade, but the opportunity never arose. Just as well. It’ll put Moyer and Sokolov in dreamland quicker than any legitimate drug I know. Patch me through to Sharon again.”

  “Yes, Wilson?” said Sharon.

  “I know you’re not a doctor or a nurse,” he said, “but you have to know how to tie a tourniquet. If anyone’s bleeding badly, do what you can to stanch the flow. Commandeer all the help you need.”

  “Right.”

  “Pilot, how long until we can get to a planet with a hospital?”

  “I am searching the nearby wormholes,” answered Wxakgini, as he and the navigational computer to which he was connected scanned the star maps.

  “Don’t search too long. We’ve got a couple of men who are in a bad way.”

  There was a brief pause.

  “There is a medical facility orbiting Prometheus between the third and fourth planets, which have both been colonized, sir,” announced Wxakgini. “I can traverse the Kurasawa Wormhole and have us there in eighty Standard minutes.”

  “Okay, get us there.”

  “It’s not an exceptionally large hospital, sir.”

  “Just do it.”

  Cole left the bridge and walked to the officers’ lounge, where he found David Copperfield.

  “It’s over,” he announced. “We got Quinta out.”

  “I know,” said Copperfield. “I’ve been following it. Our headmaster would be proud of you, Steerforth.”

  “I just hope your friend was worth the effort.”

  “I’m sure he’ll be properly grateful.”