“May I answer that one?” Mica asked.
Dimitri nodded.
“Sir, there has been heavy exchange of messages between the Ukes here and the direction of Satterfield. If they are expecting reinforcements, I believe they will come from the Uke fleet there, rather than from their home systems.”
“From either direction we jeopardize what we’ve won here,” Mari said, “but if they’re coming from Satterfield, that could only mean one of two things. Either we’re too late to help Pajandcan, or the Ukes are taking a chance, too.”
“Could be something else, sir. Cryptography on Nordeen has information that Marshall Judoff is leading an element of the Uke fleet. She could be coming here on her own initiative.”
Mari waved his hand dismissively. “That’s stupid. Surely the Ukes wouldn’t allow something like that to happen.”
“We know that she withdrew her element of the fleet before the battle for Matthews system. What would keep her from repeating her actions now?”
“If that’s correct, Captain, we’d run right into them on our way back to Satterfield.”
“Not exactly, sir,” Dimitri said. “We would have to plot for interception. Otherwise we would probably be on a totally different space-time curve and never know we passed each other.”
“All right. Suppose you plot for interception?”
“It would certainly take us longer to get to Satterfield, but if they are coming here, they certainly wouldn’t expect us to be coming out to look for them.”
Mari slapped his palm on the table. “Plot it. Give me the best time estimates you have on both courses. And you, Captain Gilbert, find out how Pajandcan’s holding out. We’ll make our decision in the next five hours.”
◊ ◊ ◊
Lucky sat at the galley table holding Marsha’s hand. Since they had been so unexpectedly reunited, he couldn’t seem to stop touching her. She was everything that Janette was not, and Lucky knew that sooner or later he would have to tell her what Janette had done to him. But it would have to wait until they got back to Oina and he was rid of Janette forever. Even now Janette was causing new problems.
“In the name of Sondak, I order you to follow him,” she said angrily.
“Order away, Inspector. You heard what Xindella told us. He said if we tried to follow him he’ll blast us from space. Since Graycloud doesn’t have any weapons to fight him with, I intend to take Xindella’s advice and go back to Oina.”
“But he has the secret weapon, I’m telling you, and the man who can make it work. Don’t you care anything about –“
“It’s a piece of space junk,” Marsha said quickly. She didn’t know who this Inspector Janette thought she was, but Marsha had managed to develop a severe dislike for her. It was obvious that Lucky didn’t like her either.
“That’s right,” Lucky said. “He has a piece of space junk that you think is a weapon. And no, I don’t care anything about it, or Wayne whatever his name is, or you, either. All I care about is that he fixed the Gouldrive. After we’ve waited as long as Xindella told us to, we’re going –“
“Maybe ‘this’ weapon will persuade you,” Janette said holding a small blaster pointed at them.
Marsha kicked under the table without thinking. The hard toe of her boot caught Janette’s knee. She jumped to her feet as the Inspector doubled over with a scream of pain. Lucky flopped across the table and snatched the blaster from her hand with a wide sweeping motion.
Janette grabbed for his arm. He brought it back as hard as he could and slammed the barrel of the blaster against her head. She fell off the chair with a loud grunt.
Lucky scrambled across the textured surface to hit her again, but Marsha already had Janette pinned to the floor.
“I think she’s unconscious,” Marsha said as Lucky climbed off the table and squatted beside them.
“Serves her right. Here,” he said, handing Marsha the blaster, “you keep her still. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Marsha was surprised when he returned moments later with a thick blue band of metal. “What’s that?”
“A security collar,” he said. He knelt beside Janette’s still form and slipped the collar in place with a loud click. With a smile of satisfaction he stood up and pulled Marsha up with him. Then he handed her a finger-sized device with a clip on it. “If she tries anything else, flip the top off that and press the button. The collar will strangle her.”
Marsha was shocked. “Lucky! That’s terrible.”
“You think so? What do you suggest for a rapist who wants to steal Graycloud? A golidium chain and a slap on the wrist?”
“Rapist?” Marsha looked from the inspector to Lucky. “I don’t understand? What happened? Why do you hate her so much?”
“You heard me,” Lucky said. Tears pooled in the corners of his eyes. “She raped me. Thought I would like it.” The shame and guilt were retuning in waves that threatened to fill his throat. “Snuck into my cabin and…”
Marsha stepped over Janette and pulled Lucky sobbing into her arms. She didn’t understand how Janette could have done what Lucky accused her of. She didn’t understand how that tiny woman could have forced him to have sex with her. But she did understand that Janette had wounded him in some terrible way, and it took all of Marsha’s restraint to keep from flipping the cap off the activator and killing Janette right then and there.
◊ ◊ ◊
“Well, I believe Captain Teeman is going to follow my instructions,” Xindella said as the Profit approached lightspeed. “He is a wise man – much wiser than you, Citizen Wallen.”
Ayne sat strapped in his own sweat in the oversized couch wanting nothing more than a piece of gorlet. He didn’t understand why Xindella was punishing him. He had fixed the Gouldrive. He had been steadfastly obedient. Why? “Why?” he finally asked aloud. “Why will you not give my gorlet?”
“It is not yours, Citizen. It is mine. You must always remember that.”
“But we be knowing that, Xindella. We be doing everything you told us to do. Even killed that guard when –“
“Yes, well, perhaps I’ve been a little harsh with you.” Xindella said, pulling a small tray out of the console between them. He touched a small button and four pieces of gorlet rolled out onto the tray, barely within reach of Ayne’s bound arms.
“Thank you,” Ayne said as he managed to pull a piece into his fingers. By straining against the straps he bent over enough to pop the gorlet into his mouth. Its creamy sweetness filled him with a sense of peace. After eating the second one he could feel the tension draining from his body. “Where be you taking us now?” he asked softly.
“To the bargaining table.”
“Do not understand.”
“Of course you don’t, Citizen. And neither, apparently, did Marshall Judoff when she made the bargain she failed to keep. But now, you see, you are twice as valuable to me and to the Ukas, for now I have not only you to put on the table, but also Drautzlab’s little toy. And this time I will demand my credits up front.”
Ayne’s heart sank. He thought he had escaped the Ukes when Xindella rescued him, and never dreamed that Xindella might sell him back to the gruesome Marshall Judoff. As quickly as he could he bent over and scooped the other two pieces of gorlet into his mouth and leaned back staring at Xindella.
“Do not look so hurt, Citizen. Did you think I stole you away from Yakusan because I liked you? And did you also think that your stupid little lies could hide what we carry in Profit’s hold? You must take me for a fool, just as Judoff did.”
“You be wiser to sell me to Drautzlab,” Ayne said hopefully.
Xindella snorted. “Perhaps we should hold a festbid. Do you know what a festbid is?”
“Do not know.”
“It is when a piece of merchandise is placed on the market and interested parties offer increasing numbers of credits to obtain it until one party is willing to pay more than any other. What an intriguing idea, Citizen! You have been an inspiration to
me.” Xindella bared his blunt, yellow teeth.
For a reason he did not understand, Ayne felt brave. “What be happening if merchandise is spoiled?”
“Then I would have to dismantle it and sell it for scrap. I understand that the Castorians will pay excessive prices for certain human organs that they consider delicacies.”
Ayne’s bravery disappeared as quickly as it had come. The thought of his body being eaten by the gruesome Castorians sent chills up his spine. “Festbid is better,” he said softly.
“Especially if all the merchandise is in working order,” Xindella added. “Consequently, I am going to release you now and let you go back to the hold and determine what makes our precious cargo work. Will you do that?”
“Will do that.” Ayne knew he had no choice. From the first piece of gorlet he had eaten in Xindella’s office he had lost all control of his life. “Will do as best I can,” he repeated, knowing that his best might very well cause destruction unlike anything the galaxy had ever seen.
28
HENLEY CRAWLED THE LAST TEN METERS up the hill to a small outcropping of rock at its peak. He couldn’t hear the scattered firing in the distance and he wasn’t going to take a chance by standing up. There were snipers everywhere.
The breeze was filled with the smells of smoke and cordite and rotting flesh. The ground was strewn with broken bodies and equipment. The Ukes might be losing, but they were still fighting for every meter of land they gave up.
He peeked around the rock and a bullet twanged over his head sending a shower of splinters against his helmet. This is crazy, he thought as he pulled back and hugged the wet ground. What in the galaxy am I doing here?
With grim determination he crawled to the other end of the outcrop. Again he cautiously peeked around its damp, rough surface. The rocky ground spilled away from the top of the hill in a series of natural terraces. Near the bottom he could see a battle skimmer moving slowly across the flats followed by troops in a skirmish line. He couldn’t see the Ukes, but he knew they were there, and at least one of them was between him and the units below.
“Hey, troop!” a voice behind him called.
Henley pulled back behind the rock again and turned to see who was calling.
“You deaf, troop?” a soldier asked as he ran in a low crouch up to Henley’s position. “What’s your outfit? Where’s your weapon? What are you doing here?”
“Easy, Sergeant,” Henley said as he risked sitting up. “One question at a time.”
“Aren’t you…Oh, damn. Sorry, sir, but I didn’t recognize you like that.”
Henley looked at his mud-stained uniform. “Be hard to recognize myself. As for what I’m doing here, I don’t know. I was sticking with the Forty-Ninth when I stopped to talk to some of the wounded. Been trying to catch up with them ever since, but there’s a sniper popping this rock, and I don’t want to give him another chance at me.”
“I’m Sergeant Vessle, sir, and if you’ll come with me, I think I can get you safely to the Forty-Ninth.”
“Whatever you say, Sergeant. I’m too much of a coward to take risks I don’t have to.”
“Not what I heard, sir,” Vessle said as he turned and started back down the hill in the same low running crouch.
Henley strained to keep up with Vessle while forcing himself to stay low. When he finally huffed to a stop at the base of the hill between two large coniferous trees, he knew the exhaustion he felt was temporary. It would soon sink into that bone-weary fatigue that had become a part of him.
“It’s that teller,” Vessle said to a young pikean captain. “A sniper had him pinned down.”
“Good to see you, Chief Stanmorton,” the captain said, holding out her hand.
“Thanks, Captain.” He paused as he accepted her handshake and looked at the insignia on her collar. “Don’t tell me you’re with the Forty-Ninth?”
The captain looked puzzled and Vessle laughed. “Told you I’d get you there safely, sir.”
“That you did, Sergeant. Request permission to attach myself to your unit, Captain.”
“It’s our honor, Chief. Your stories on the landings made you a lot of friends in this unit. But enough of that. You can ride in the skimmer with –“ Her sentence ended in a gurgle of blood as she dropped dead at his feet.
The shot was still ringing over his head when Henley hit the ground beside her, cursing the damned Uke sniper and crying at the same time.
◊ ◊ ◊
“Have you determined who they are and what they want?”
“Methane poachers,” Glights said, “probably sent by Sondak to test you. They appear to be well armed.”
This was not part of Leri’s visions. But her precious visions had first gone astray, and then mutated into forms she no longer understood. Nothing was right anymore. “Send them away,” she said sharply.
“We tried that,” Ranas said softly. “They refused to leave. I fear we will now have to fight them, Proctor.”
Leri’s tongue flickered in and out in anger. The humans had sucked Cloise into their war, the same way they wanted to suck the methane from Cloise’s atmosphere. Now Leri and her people were allied with the soulless Oinaise and the despicable Castorians. Weecs was somewhere high in space aboard a Csstorian ship, and Cloise was at the mercy of elements out of Leri’s control. “Ranas, will those humans we hired stay loyal to us?”
“Their loyalty is to the paymaster, but they will fight. None of them have any love for Sondak.”
“Then attack the poachers! Drive them off!”
“By your orders, Proctor,” Glights said as he backed from the chamber with a flourish of his claws.
To her surprise, Ranas stayed where he was. She could smell the disturbance in him. “You have something more?” she asked.
“No, I have nothing more for the proctor,” he said slowly, “but I feel pain for the mate-of-my-nest. I know you did not pray for the souls of the Castorians that we so freely executed. That is not good, Leri. You should have –“
“How do you know so much? Are you spying on me?” Despite her tone, Leri was secretly pleased that Ranas still cared so much about her.
“It is easy to know such things when I know you.”
“I smell censure in you.”
“No.” Ranas looked at her and sighed. “It is sadness you smell, not censure – sadness for all that has happened, and all that is yet to come – sadness for you, Leri.”
“Pity, you mean. I do not need –“
“The pity is that you have to carry the burden of these events by yourself. The sadness is that you are letting the burdens of being proctor eat at your soul.”
Leri was again startled that he understood so much. “Would you have me give less of myself? Did I not promise all of my energies to this duty?”
“Yes, you did promise, but that does not mean that you should compromise your faith.”
“I have not,” Leri said quickly, “and I will pray for the dead Castorians now as is my duty. Your duty is to go and follow our fight against the poachers. When you return, I expect to hear that they have been driven away or defeated.”
“As you wish, Proctor,” Ranas said before turning to slither from her chamber.
After he was gone, Leri selected a symphony by Shetotem as appropriate music for what she knew she must do. If the Castorians truly had souls, she was obliged to pray for them. Otherwise her own soul might end up serving those of the Castorians in the eternal seas of the hereafter. In that – and all too many other things – Ranas was right. She should have prayed for them immediately after they died.
As the music started she curled herself into a tight coil and began chanting the Litany of Peace. At first her mind resisted its flow, but the repetitious verses eased her tension, and the music soothed her thoughts, and soon she was totally involved in the prayers for those alien souls.
Her mind was clear and fresh. Her thoughts were simple and pure. Eternal love and eternal truth filled her with peace.
For the few brief hours those prayers would take, Leri Gish Geril would live free from the battle being fought over her planet, and the war being waged in her galaxy.
◊ ◊ ◊
Ten minutes after Judoff’s fleet exited subspace, alarms rang through the Woro.
“Enemy fighters, Marshall,” the range coordinator said calmly. “A hundred, maybe a hundred and fifty of them. And a couple of big blips, too. Could be destroyers.”
“As I feared,” Commander Qunoy said with a dark scowl. “What are your orders, sha?”
“Prepare to launch a defensive screen – naggers only.” Judoff hadn’t been prepared for this, because she had refused to heed Commander Qunoy’s warning. Even so, she wasn’t about to let a few Sak fighters stop her.
“Commander, I want to blow through those fighters and save our main strike for Sutton. Let the Saks follow us if they can. Tell the fleet that stragglers will be left behind. Understood?”
“Understood, sha, but braking will make it hard to launch the naggers very efficiently.”
“Just get us to Sutton!” Judoff watched and listened as her commands were relayed to the other seventeen ships. Already the Sak fighters were hitting the fringes of her fleet while the rest streaked toward Woro.
“Commencing nagger launch,” a distant voice over the speaker announced. “First flight away.”
“Incoming missiles!” the range coordinator shouted.
“Hard left ten degrees,” Qunoy ordered.
Judoff braced herself, and raised her eyes to the visual screens. The Saks were already swirling around the Behot like leaves in a whirlwind.
Woro trembled as the first missile glanced off its stern. It shook violently when the second missile struck square in its midsection. Shouts and commands rang through the ship and over the speakers.
“More fighters approaching!”
Judoff cursed. Where were they coming from? How had they known she would be here? The situation was slipping through her hands, but she refused to let go of it even though Qunoy had far more space battle experience than she did. “What is our status, Commander?” she demanded.
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