Limbo System

by Rick Cook

  “Oh my God,” said MacNamara finally.

  “Can he be gotten out of there?” one of the other delegation members asked.

  DeRosa grinned nastily. “Sure. In two or three days. That whole damn area is the heaviest shielded part of the ship.”

  “We’ll have to go in and get him,” Jenkins said.

  He and DeRosa exchanged looks. DeLorenzo was heavily armed and the only professional soldier on the ship. Getting to him would be a suicide mission.

  “It might be possible,” a soft voice said from one corner of the bridge.

  They all swiveled and looked at Sukihara Takiuji standing off to the side. “I would be willing to try if you will allow me.”

  Everyone looked back at Jenkins. “If you think you can do it, then do it,” the captain said.

  The Japanese smiled and bowed. Then he took his long sword from his sash and held it out horizontally resting on the palms of both hands. “Captain, if you would do me the honor of keeping this until I return?”

  “Suki, what are you going to do?” Jenkins asked as he took the sword by the scabbard.

  The old man smiled. “Captain, you have never heard the story of Kamiizumi Hidetsuna and the two rice balls?”

  “No.”

  “Then you must check the ship’s library when there is time.” He paused. “Oh, and Captain . . .” he added in a lower voice. “While you are at it, you might read the story of Alexander Kerensky and the Russian Revolution. Now please excuse me, there is not much time and I must visit my cabin.” He turned and padded out the door.

  Jenkins watched him go, thinking furiously.

  “Captain?” MacNamara called behind him. “Captain, there is still the matter of the Colonists’ offer of aid.”

  “Yes. Very well then, since we have no alternative, we will surrender.”

  Alice DeRosa started, then looked narrowly at her captain and settled back waiting.

  MacNamara smiled broadly. “Excellent. Perhaps they can help us get that madman out of the engine room.”

  “I think it would be inadvisable for them to approach the ship until we have that settled.”

  “Stalling, Captain?”

  “Not at all,” Jenkins said blandly. “But there is no reason for Colonists to die if the ship goes up. Besides, there is an excellent chance Major DeLorenzo has tied into the ship’s sensors and will blow us up at the first sign of boarding.”

  “But if the Colonists help us . . .”

  “I’m sorry, we must wait. With DeLorenzo’s overrides in place I’m not sure I can hand over the ship. There’s no way of knowing what he has rigged up.”

  “I see. Very well, we will wait and hope Dr. Takiuji can reason with him.”

  I don’t think that’s what Suki has in mind, Jenkins thought. “We all must hope so,” he said piously. “Now, about the surrender, ah, excuse me, ‘turnover.’ It will have to be done properly.”

  “What do you mean, ‘properly’,” MacNamara said, frowning slightly.

  “That is for the Ship’s Council to decide. As I’m sure you’re aware there are a number of details which will have to be worked out.”

  “Details?”

  “Oh, everything from exactly who we turn the ship over to, who will man the engineering and life-support stations, inventories, all those things.”

  “I’m not sure . . .”

  “I want the Ship’s Council to make the arrangements. The Council will negotiate with the Colonists and give me a precise procedure, in detail, which I will follow in turning over the ship.”

  “Captain, the Colonists are ready now. Why not do it immediately? Or as soon as Major DeLorenzo is out of the drive space?”

  “Dr. MacNamara, this is too important for our future and Earth’s for any detail to be left to chance. As soon as you have told me exactly what you want me to do, I will initiate the procedures.”

  “But . . .”

  “Come, Dr. MacNamara. I need the Ship’s Council’s help in this. Is that too much to ask?”

  “Well . . .”

  “It sounds reasonable to me,” Chang interjected. The other man nodded.

  MacNamara sighed. “Very well, then. I will convene the Council immediately.” He turned to go and the others followed.

  “Remember, Dr. MacNamara,” Jenkins said, “I must know exactly what to do.”

  “Cute,” Iron Alice DeRosa said as soon as the trio was safely down the corridor. “You think that will hold them?”

  “It will buy us some time anyway. Now, let’s get back to the bridge and see what we can do about getting this ship under control again.”

  Major Autro DeLorenzo cradled the submachine gun and kept his eyes on the door.

  What the hell was that story? Old, old one about the officer who seized the nuclear weapons stockpile on the Moon to keep his superior from setting off a war. Written back before space travel even. Anyway he died in the end for his duty. They honored him for it. Shit, if I succeed no one will ever know. No human anyway. He sighed and shifted the submachine gun. Well, no one ever said life was fair.

  Behind him on the wall, the gauges crept ever closer to critical. DeLorenzo didn’t bother to look. As the pressure built up the containment fields became ever weaker. Soon they would be weak enough and, for a few seconds, this solar system would have two suns.

  This wasn’t like combat. He wasn’t afraid of dying. This was something that had to be done and he was the only one to do it. There was a kind of sadness to it and a genuine tranquility.

  Something moved in the shadows. Reflexively DeLorenzo swung the muzzle toward it.

  “Come out with your hands up,” he called.

  Sukihara Takiuji stepped out, palms out in front to show he was unarmed.

  “Please do not shoot.”

  “How the hell did you get in here?” DeLorenzo demanded.

  “The aft engineering hatch,” Dr. Takiuji said, smiling nervously.

  “That’s disabled and locked.”

  “Very true, but there is a way to open it when there is no power. An instrument access port left over from the test program. Not widely known.”

  Hell, thought DeLorenzo. That wasn’t in the plans. Well, he helped design this thing.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” DeLorenzo growled. He kept the submachine gun pointed unwaveringly at Suki’s belly.

  “Waiting to die.”

  “Wait somewhere else.”

  “I prefer here,” Suki said imperturbably. “Close to those.” He nodded at the KOH drive generators.

  He sat down cross-legged on the drive-room floor as if oblivious to the gun trained on him.

  “I’m warning you,” DeLorenzo said tightly. “If you don’t get the hell out of here . . .”

  Suki looked up at him. “You will what, Major? Kill me? A rather empty threat under the circumstances, don’t you think?”

  “You’re crazy, do you know that?”

  Suki just shrugged. Slowly and carefully he reached into the sleeve of his kimono and brought out a white plastic flask and a tiny handleless china cup.

  “What the hell is that?”

  “Saki. Twenty years old. It should be served at body temperature.” Suki set the plastic flask down in front of him. “It was given to me by a student. ‘For a special occasion,’ he said. I think one’s death is special enough.”

  “You’re goddamn coldblooded about this.”

  “Would it do any good to become excited, Major DeLorenzo? It is truly said that the way of the samurai is to keep death always before one.” He squeezed the sides of the container and caught the bubble of yellowish liquid in a tiny porcelain cup, moving so slowly and carefully that it did not splash. DeLorenzo watched, fascinated.

  “In this gravity, the tea ceremony could take on new elegance, do you not think?” Slowly and fluidly he raised the cup to his lips and drained it. Then he looked at the major.

  “Would you care for some?”

  DeLorenzo nodded and Suki
recapped the flask and stood up.

  “No closer!” the major barked and gestured with the submachine gun.

  “Ah, of course,” Suki smiled apologetically and tossed the flask to him underhand.

  The flask sailed lazily across the room, turning and wobbling. Suki put his arms in the sleeves of his kimono and waited.

  It was not a good toss. The flask passed to DeLorenzo’s right about three feet from his body. Instinctively, he twisted toward it and stretched out his arm.

  Suki was halfway across the distance when the major realized his mistake and turned. Too late. As he closed, Suki batted the submachine gun aside and pulled a wakazashi from his kimono sleeve.

  The gun fired three shots into the ceiling and the short sword flashed. DeLorenzo gasped, his eyes widened and then he collapsed bonelessly. Bright crimson droplets floated in the air as Sukihara Takiuji pulled the sword from DeLorenzo’s chest.

  “I’m sorry,” the Japanese murmured and wiped the blade on the sleeve of the dead man’s jumpsuit. Then he turned to the communications console.

  “Captain, I have the control room,” Suki said. “Send a crew down immediately.”

  “That was a hell of a job you did,” Jenkins told Sukihara Takiuji when the Japanese returned to the bridge a few minutes later.

  “I am sorry Major DeLorenzo had to die,” Suki said. “I was not proficient enough to be certain of disarming him and I thought the stakes too great to risk failure.”

  “I don’t think anyone will blame you for that,” Jenkins told him. He reached down beside his console. “Here is your sword.”

  The physicist accepted the weapon with a slight bow and slid it back into his sash.

  “How is the fusion pile?”

  “Getting stable again. The engineers had to cut the output down to practically nothing, but they’ve got it under control and they’re starting to bring the power back up. We’re running on accumulators right now, but we’ve got plenty of power.” Especially since we’re not going anywhere, he thought.

  “Excellent. You must be very busy so I will leave you now.” He turned to go.

  “Oh, Dr. Takiuji.”

  Suki turned back. “Yes, Captain?”

  “I never did find the story of the two rice balls.”

  Suki smiled. “I fear the incident may be too obscure for our library. It concerns Kamiizumi Hidetsuna, one of the great masters of the Shinkage ryu—school, you would say—of swordsmanship. Hidetsuna was travelling the country, seeking to perfect his art when he and his disciples came to a village which was in an uproar. A notorious brigand had been cornered in the village, but he had seized a child and fled into a barn. Now he was holding a sword on the boy and threatening to kill anyone who came close. Naturally everyone was very excited, but no one knew what to do. At the least move the thief would kill the child.

  “Hidetsuna saw a priest in the crowd and asked to borrow his robe. Then he sent the villagers to get him two riceballs and had his son and disciple, Toyogoro, shave his head like a monk’s. When the riceballs were brought, Hidetsuna put on the monk’s robe and, unarmed, took the riceballs into the barn. When the thief saw him he became agitated and threatened again to kill the child. But Hidetsuna allayed his fears and told him he had brought them food out of compassion since neither the thief nor the boy had eaten for a day and a night. He would not approach, he told the thief, but rather would throw him the riceballs.

  “Hidetsuna threw the first riceball and the thief let go of the child to catch it with his left hand. Then he threw the second riceball and the thief dropped the sword from his right hand. As soon as he released the sword, Hidetsuna sprang at him and wrestled him to the ground.

  “I am no Kamiizumi Hidetsuna,” Suki concluded sadly. “Not only did I take a sword with me, I was unable to capture my opponent alive.”

  “You saved a lot more than one child, though,” Jenkins said. “So that really happened? I saw it in a movie once.”

  “It is a very famous story in Japan. May I go now, Captain?”

  “One other question. What did you mean by suggesting I study Kerensky?”

  The Japanese physicist smiled. “I think you have already worked that one out, Captain.” He nodded and swam out of the door.

  It took four men and a cutting torch to get the lab door open. The portal was still smoking when the first man played his flashlight around the darkened interior.

  The first thing he saw was the blood splattered and smeared everywhere.

  The second thing he saw was what was left of Dr. Albers—part of what was left.

  He gasped and jerked his head and arm out of the door. “My God!” he yelled into his microphone. “Get a medical team down here immediately.”

  Off in the corner, Lulu Pine heard but she paid no attention. She was of the Elect and the Judgment had come and gone.

  “Captain, we’ve got a ship closing on us,” the communications officer told him. “I think it’s one of the ones from Meetpoint.”

  Another raid? And they were effectively helpless!

  “See if he’ll answer us.”

  “Yessir.”

  The communications officer’s face vanished to be replaced by a gray, beaked head with unblinking yellow eyes.

  “Who are you and what do you want?”

  “We offer aid from the Colonial Council,” the alien said.

  “Go away. We do not require your help.”

  “But we carry aid.”

  “Your aid is not needed,” Jenkins snapped. “You cannot dock.”

  “Your Council has approved.”

  “The Ship’s Council has not agreed to anything,” Jenkins grated. “I am in command of this ship and I will not allow you to approach.” He glared murderously at the Colonist. “If any Colonist approaches this ship, we will leave this system under our drive and never return.”

  The Colonist froze. “I understood this was impossible.”

  Jenkins grinned, not at all nicely. “Want to try it? I’ve got the control under my hand right now.”

  “I must consult,” the Colonist said and hastily broke the connection.

  “Can we use the drive?” DeRosa asked in an undervoice.

  The reddish ready light of the bridge etched the captain’s face in harsh planes. “I doubt it. But they don’t know that and they’re obviously too scared to test it.”

  “I wonder how long that will last.”

  “They’re firing their bow thrusters,” the navigator called. “They’re breaking off and moving away.”

  “Every day is a victory.” He turned away from the screen to face his second-in-command. “Now, get Ludenemeyer or whoever’s in charge up here in person. I want to know how long it will take to be sure we can get out of here on the drive. And see what you can do about rigging a secure command circuit, one that the Colonists or our own people can’t listen in on.” He paused and frowned. “Has our external comm system been restored?”

  “You mean aside from the auxiliary bridge circuits? No.”

  “Then maybe it would be best if it wasn’t restored. Not yet, at least.”

  C.D. MacNamara pulled himself back onto the bridge a few minutes later.

  “Captain, you turned away a Colonist ship,” he said accusingly.

  “Yes.”

  “But you agreed—”

  “Dr. MacNamara,” Jenkins broke in, “I agreed to turn over the ship once I had specific instructions from the Ship’s Council on how to do so. So far I have not received those instructions and until I do, no Colonist will set foot on this vessel.”

  “But surely one ship . . .”

  “I thought we were quite clear when you and the others were here. As soon as I have a detailed, specific plan from the Ship’s Council I will turn over the Maxwell. Not before. If you want to expedite matters then get the Council to prepare that plan.”

  MacNamara started to say something more, but Jenkins cut him off.

  “If you want to protest formally, it sh
ould come as a Council resolution.”

  MacNamara clenched his jaw, turned and stalked off. he had no sooner vanished than the screen chimed. It was Kirchoff, and the young engineering officer looked as if he was going to cry.

  “We found Ludenemeyer,” he said tightly. “He was outside the ship. I think they had captured him when his air hose came undone and they left him there.” The man’s eyes filled with tears and his teeth clenched tight. “Captain, they just threw him away. He wasn’t any good to them dead, so they threw him away!”

  “Very well, Mr. Kirchoff,” Jenkins said numbly. “Have the body brought back inside. There’s a morgue down on S7.” He stopped. Ludenemeyer, My God! “That makes you Senior Engineering Officer, I believe?”

  “Yes sir,” Kirchoff said miserably.

  “Then you are in charge of engineering. I want a report on damage as soon as possible. Oh, and Kirchoff?”

  “Yessir?”

  “Clancy is a good man. I’d suggest you make as much use of his experience as you can.”

  “Don’t worry sir, I will.” Kirchoff sketched a salute and blinked off.

  “Jesus Christ!” Mike Clancy exclaimed as he made his way down the main corridor to the engineering spaces. The passage was a charnel house. The walls were streaked and smeared with alien blood where the air currents had pushed the invaders’ bodies against them. At the far end of the corridor the corpses hung in a little knot whose position was determined by the air currents.

  Blood was everywhere. Globules of blood wafted lazily about like soap bubbles on a breeze, drops of blackening blood floated and shimmered through the air and the air was pink with a fine mist of alien blood that coated everything and made contact with the corridor slippery and uncertain. In spite of his urge to vomit, for the first time in nearly twenty years in space, Clancy kept the visor down on his suit.

  “Well,” he said after a minute. “At least the biology section will have something to dissect.”

  The Council President tried to shut out the uproar. They had crawled this tree from roots to topmost branches two hands of times already and still the argument continued.