by Greg Curtis
They'd been cleverer than that though. When the Mentan had boarded them they'd also recorded the attack. They'd even managed to ask some leading questions of the pirate, getting him to nicely incriminate himself. That recording was a part of the message that would be sent. And so the Mentan, desperate to save his people from the shame of their past, had already exposed everything he'd tried to hide. That was a good thing. He might be angry, in fact David was certain he would be. Especially with him when he found out that David had robbed him. But he no longer had a reason to hold them. Or to do something permanent and lethal to the Earth as David still secretly feared he was planning. Despite Cyrea and everyone else telling him he was wrong every time he raised it, it was still the only answer he could find to the question of how the Mentan would ultimately protect his secret.
One of the technicians interrupted them before Lar could tell them much more, but David wasn't upset. Not when he saw the look on the man's face. Eagerness. Anticipation. It was time.
Lar gave the man a nod and instantly the technician pushed a button on the side of the mechanical Christmas tree.
And that was it. There were no lights, no sounds. Nothing to tell them that the transmitter was working. No one even had to say anything. And still David knew it was. He knew it when the technician nodded to the security head. He knew it when all the other officers and technicians and grinning. And he knew it most of all when everyone started laughing and clapping.
They were going home.
Chapter Thirty Four
Back in Earth space.
It was a strangely pleasing concept for David, even if he couldn’t tell one bit of jet black vacuum from another. But on some level he was home again, even if he hadn’t made it back to his cottage, and wasn’t likely to for many weeks.
It had been a long four months to return to where he'd started from. And they'd never even reached their destination. But a good four months. Their second month on the prison planet - it had a name as they'd later found out, but it didn't translate - had been far better than the first. They'd known transport was coming for them and they just had to wait. And when the small fleet had arrived they'd celebrated. It would have been a great time for some bubbly save that they had four pregnant women. Stepping on to the shuttle to bring them up to the ship had been one of the happiest acts of his life.
Of course happiness always had to be tempered with reality. He'd learned that early on in life, and yet he'd still somehow forgotten it. And the reality was that while they'd been saved, their kidnapper had got away. And the guess was that he'd run for Earth. Why, they didn't know. But David had a bad feeling about it.
So while the others had headed for Leinia he'd run for home, and though he had argued against it, Cyrea had come with him. Earth as she said, was her home too.
And there it was in the porthole. Though of course it wasn't a porthole. The engineers wouldn't have tolerated such a thing. It was a view screen fashioned to look like one. Still it looked so real, and the Earth in it, so very beautiful. So close he could almost reach out and touch it. And every part of him wanted to. He wanted to go home.
Before he could though, they had to find the Mentan, who’s own ship was hiding somewhere in this section of space. Their ships had detected his vessel furtively slipping around the system. Unfortunately he was good at hiding and kept slipping away. Goodness only knew what he was planning on doing, but David knew it couldn’t be good.
Trellin, as he’d been named by the Mentan Council, was a fugitive, from them as well as the Leinians. His scheme busted, his secrets exposed, he had embarrassed his people far more than would have just the knowledge of what his ancestors had done. Kidnapping and piracy were crimes almost unknown to his people, and they were deeply horrified. They had already publicly apologized to the Leinians and the humans, or rather to David as no contact had yet been made with Earth and none was planned. But despite calls for him to return and face justice for his crime, something that the Mentans were truly surprised he hadn’t done the moment his crime was discovered and the order given, he simply didn’t seem to want to. In fact they hadn’t heard from him at all since the second ship had been waylaid.
That, coupled with the fact that his vessel, one rather better armed than any science vessel should be, had been repeatedly spotted in Earth space by the Leinian’s long range sensors, was enough to trouble the Leinians as well as David. Despite its impossibility for any of the advanced races, David still had the nightmare that he wanted to do something permanent to the Earth. No longer to cover up his ancestors’ crimes, but simply out of revenge.
Lar, despite his people’s almost saintly nature, had let enough of David’s paranoia rub off on him to agree. As a result, instead of insisting that they travel back to Leinia for Cyrea to give birth, he’d allowed them to forego the hospital for the trip home on board a battleship. He said it was safe.
Ironically enough neither he nor Cyrea, nor any of the doctors, were particularly concerned by the change in plans. Not now that they had an explanation of how it could be that Cyrea and the others were pregnant. With that, what had been an impossible miracle had suddenly turned into a rather routine birth, exactly as all the medical staff had told them it would be. And a routine birth was something which could be handled by any competent doctor. And of course the Sharp Claw, as the ship’s name had been translated to, had an excellent medical facility aboard.
So they were now spending their days on board, hunting down Trellin, trying to figure out his next move. David somehow suspected it might be a strike against him as he figured the Mentan wasn’t about to forget his rough housing. The nights however, Cyrea and David spent preparing for the baby as Cyrea was now only a week or two away at most, and the big moment could come any day.
Aside from the pain, Cyrea was looking forward to it, if only so she could get back her normal svelte figure, and maybe even wear her old clothes. Meanwhile David was still nervous. Not as much as he had been since Trellin’s revelation. But he probably had the same jitters that every father to be did. No more.
He would have preferred it much more if they could have already found the rogue scientist, and had sent him off for trial so they could have the baby on Earth, but that wasn’t proving easy. The Mentan’s ship had some advanced stealth technology that rendered the Leinian ship’s instruments next to useless. And he seemed to be in no hurry to give himself up.
Still, in a few days the Mentan’s own battleships were due to arrive, and they, so David was informed, would be able to detect his ship in minutes and disarm it without a shot having to be fired. No Mentan ship, research vessel, freighter or cruiser was ever built without having a master override installed, just in case. It was a sensible precaution. Of course the Mentans had thought it would only be needed in the case of theft by an outsider; never did they consider it might have to be used against one of their own. Still, it would work just the same.
And then it would be over. At last. And he could go home.
“David!” Lar brought him out of his reverie as his voice came from just behind his left ear. His frightened voice. He jumped and turned to see the officer standing right behind him, the most ghastly expression on his face.
“Hmm?” Yet even as David acknowledged him, there was a sudden sinking feeling in his guts. He knew that look.
“Ohh God!” David didn’t even need to ask, he could see it in Lar’s sickly expression, hear it in his shaky voice. The way he had gone ashen under his fur. The horrified expression on his face. The fear that was almost oozing from him. The way that guilt was just beginning to peek out of his eyes. He knew that soon it would do more than just peek. It would run screaming. The terrible thing was that he recognized that haunted look. It was a look he had seen before. Too many times. A look he had worn himself. And there was always only one reason for it.
“We’ve received a call for you.”
“Dimock.” He didn’t even need to ask. There was nothing else it could be. Nothing el
se that could so completely terrify and shame anyone, and it all made perfect sense. Lar just nodded, apparently not even surprised that he should guess. Or maybe just relieved that he didn’t have to say it.
“Somehow he’s got himself a ship -” A huge part of David just wanted to grab the officer by the collar and shake him until he understood that he’d told him so. That this was exactly what he’d told him would happen. There was simply so much anger building within him. It was the flip side of fear. But he knew it wouldn’t have been fair and that he didn’t have time. Dimock had a ship, and logically there was only one ship it could be. There was only one interstellar fool stupid enough and desperate enough to rescue him. And he of course had only one goal in mind. The pieces of Dimock’s insane plan just fell into place.
“There’s no somehow about it. Our friend the Mentan rescued him. Exactly as I told you someone would. They always do. And Dimock took control of the ship from him. That’s why Trellin won’t give himself up. He can’t. He’s either dead or a hostage aboard his own ship soon to be dead. It's always the same. People always save him, and he always betrays them for it.”
“But -.”
“I told you. If you don’t kill him when you have the chance he just comes back stronger and nastier than ever, and even more rivers of blood flow. Always!” It was so hard to keep from shouting it at him. Or crying. The pieces were so obvious. Everything about the entire mess was entirely predictable, - in hindsight. It was always in hindsight.
“But he-” But David didn’t need to hear it. He knew it went against everything the Leinians' believed. It didn’t matter.
“Trellin was desperate. He wanted to do some terrible damage to the Earth. Enough to wipe out all traces of his ancestor’s wrong doing. But he couldn’t do it himself without getting caught and shaming his people, so he picked himself up an assassin instead. Someone insane enough to do his bidding. A human. And believe me Dimock is crazy enough to do just that. He will destroy the entire world if it will kill me, and now he knows from Trellin that I’m alive since that’s why he called. Hell he’ll probably do it anyway, just for fun. And now he has the weaponry to do it.”
“No!” But even as Lar tried to deny it he knew it was true. The guilt was written all over his face.
“Yes. A thousand times yes. He always comes back stronger and meaner than before, and he always kills as many as he can. Now you’ve let him do just that. In fact you’ve made it worse. Much worse than ever before.” In fact the true horror of his situation was only just beginning to make itself known to him as he spoke.
“You realize that he was dying from his implants. Four or five years and he would have been gone, never to bother the world again. But now you’ve gone and given him a whole new lease on life. Trellin’s given him the weapons he could only ever have dreamed of. And between the two of you Dimock’s all set to be a god of destruction for at least another fifty or a hundred years. Can you even imagine how many more will die because of that? All because you let him live. Again.” If David sounded bitter, it was because he was and he couldn’t hide it.
“There won’t be many survivors once he’s started. Instead of thousands it’ll be millions or even billions who will pay for the cost of your scruples.”
“Our ships -”
“Are not near enough, and in any case, not as powerful as those of the Mentans. And even they are still two days away. And yet when they finally do try to capture him he will no doubt capture them instead as they will have the same scruples as you, and then he will have access to even more powerful warships. He will use them. That is his nature.”
“But if we warn them-” Lar was desperate, never having considered the thought of Dimock obtaining a Mentan warship. With such a weapon at his control, Dimock would be unstoppable. Meanwhile David just wanted to cry, as Lar suggested doing what already hadn’t worked before. Again! They never learnt.
“Warn them all you want. Exactly as I tried to warn you. They won’t accept it, any more than you would. They won’t kill him, and the consequences will be terrible. Then when he has the ship he will fake negotiations with them, while he murders and mutilates the crew and masters the controls. Then he will use it to destroy the others, while they will be unable to fight back as he has hostages. Then, once they’re dead, he’ll kill the remaining hostages.” There was of course no answer. He was still being illogical and yet the Leinians were finally learning how far logic could get them against Dimock. How badly it had already failed them. And the risk if he was right was enormous. There were a few seconds of silence as Lar digested his words. But only a few.
“He’s demanding to speak with you. Says he’ll destroy a city every hour until you do.” David nodded. It was exactly what he’d expected. Unfortunately he knew that even if he did speak with Dimock, he’d likely do the same. The thrill of killing millions was a drug to him.
“Can he do it?” Dimock had stolen a research vessel as far as he knew, not a battleship, though even as a research vessel it had still been able to intercept and then capture and board two transports. It was armed. Perhaps the Mentans had a different concept of what an unarmed research vessel should be.
For an answer Lar just shrugged. A typically human gesture, which was the last thing David wanted to see right then. He wanted a ‘no’. But how could they know what he could do in an alien science vessel?
“I assume he’s also broadcast that threat to the world.” Lar nodded, no doubt wondering how he would have known. But it was obvious. If Dimock couldn’t physically inflect terror on his victims he had to do it another way. He wanted them to suffer before they died. That was his joy, his singular joy. He was always a god of destruction.
David though could only imagine the terror that millions of his countrymen and those of so many other countries as well must be feeling. The terror of being struck from space by some weapon out of a science fiction film. The panicked fleeing as people packed up everything they had, grabbed their loved ones and fled the cities. And they didn’t even know which city would be first on the firing line. Yet there was nothing he could do except talk to the madman and somehow try to convince him to give up his insanity.
He followed Lar up to the command bridge, wishing that he had some idea, any idea of what to do, and bitterly knowing that he could do nothing. Wishing that they would have listened to him, or at least that he would have hunted down and killed Dimock even if it was against their wishes on the ship. It was a long walk.
On the bridge he was met with a scene from hell itself. At least a dozen officers sat there at their instrument panels, gabbling furiously in their own tongue, everyone as obviously shell shocked and frightened as Lar. These people with all their wondrous technology were facing a situation they’d never imagined possible, and they had no idea what to do. Meanwhile their instruments were all flashing red warning signals. And he had absolutely no idea what any of them meant. No way of even helping them in their fight. He didn’t even know what might be useful to them. But when he stepped on to the bridge they all turned to stare at him as though he had some idea of what to do, and that in the end he realised, was all they had. Hope. An appearance of a solution. And a belief that he knew what to do. That was their weapon.
“Be quiet!” He raised his voice a little.
“Man your stations and try to look calm. No one speaks, and no one looks even vaguely troubled while I talk to the nutter. It's vital that he think I have the upper hand.” A dozen officers looked at him and then at Lar who was surely having exactly the same fears. Lar nodded at them and the crew immediately focused on their stations. Calm or not they suddenly had something to do and that always helped.
“Put him on.” One of the officers immediately pushed something and a hologram of Dimock’s hate filled face appeared in the centre of the room. He assumed one of his own face appeared in Dimock’s bridge.
“So it's true. You do live. Even after I killed you. Just like a cockroach.” His face was filled with all the hat
red he had, making even his once more relatively normal features look like a caricature of themselves. That unreasoning hatred though gave David an edge, and even the beginnings of a plan. Dimock was always his own worst enemy. He had to be. No one else could measure up.
“You know I thought that once they’d stripped out all the mechanical bits and pieces, they might at least have been able to make you look more human. But it obviously hasn’t helped. Instead you look like Frankenstein’s monster only uglier. Shame for such a pretty child.” It might not have been politic, but it worked. He watched Dimock’s face screw up into a mask of fury, as he started screaming unintelligibly at the other end.