Double Spiral War Trilogy

by Warren Norwood

  She paused and considered the problem. “Big assumptions, old girl,” she said softly. “Very big assumptions. But I won’t know unless I try, will I?”

  This habit of talking to herself was a new one, and she vowed to break it – after she got the weapon back to Sondak space. If her glass – lidded supervisors had listened to her instead of Caugust Drautz, they’d have sent a whole team in a heavily armed ship. “But no, he convinced them the Wallen was only a harmless prototype, not worth the effort,” she said sarcastically. “And they believed him. Idiots.”

  After a long sigh she sat up straight. “Can’t worry about them now, can I? Just be glad they gave me a ship big enough to bring the damned thing back in – and maybe enough credits to win it.” As quickly as she could, Janette picked a theoretical spot, set the controls, and began accelerating. She had barely turned the LPR over for deceleration when she heard the Ukes calling Xindella.

  ◊ ◊ ◊

  “Make them identify selves,” Ayne insisted, popping a piece of gorlet into his mouth.

  “You consume that far too quickly, Citizen Wallen,” Xindella said. “Our gorlet supply is not unlimited, even with faith.”

  “Your problem,” Ayne said, eating another one. “You do not give us the gorlet, we cannot work. Is simple, you see. You provide gorlet. We work.”

  “Is not simple,” Xindella said, mimicking Ayne’s gentongue dialect as best he could. “You eat all the gorlet before we can get more and you are very sick scientist.”

  Ayne felt only a momentary flash of fear, followed by an unnerving anxiety. He quickly squelched that with yet another piece of gorlet, savoring its gentle sweetness as he pressed it against the roof of his mouth and let it melt under the pressure of his tongue so that the flavor slid in a delicious trickle down his throat. If it was necessary, Xindella would provide.

  Xindella watched his human companion for a moment, then reached out with one of his seven-fingered hands and closed the gorlet drawer, pushing the hidden lock at the same time.

  “No!” Ayne was dismayed.

  “You must wait,” Xindella said. “If necessary, I will ration your supply. It would make me sad to see you sick.”

  “No, no, no,” Ayne repeated as he tried to unlock the drawer. “Two more. Please, Xindella, just two more. Just two, that’s all. Just two more. Then you can ration us.”

  “Wait,” Xindella said sternly, “and stop begging, or I will put you back in the –“

  “Will not work,” Ayne said, crossing his arms petulantly over his chest. “No gorlet, no work.”

  “No work, no food. No work, no sleep. No work, no gorlet, Citizen Stupid Scientist,” Xindella said shrilly. He punctuated his statement with a long snorting sound through his proboscis that caused Ayne to clamp his hands over his ears.

  “Stop! Stop! Will work,” Ayne said as Xindella made the sound a second time. It was a sound he had come to hate as much as he loved the gorlet, for it was a sound that roared straight to the center of his brain in a grinding whirlwind filled with pain. “Stop, please, stop,” he said again.

  Xindella stopped and bared his blunt yellow teeth in the Oinaise approximation of a human smile. Then he opened the gorlet drawer and took out two pieces. When Wallen grabbed hem, Xindella quickly shut and locked the drawer again.

  “Go work,” he said simply.

  Ayne gobbled the first piece, wanting it, needing it, afraid Xindella might take it back. The second he held tightly in his hand, afraid not to have any gorlet left, afraid he would need it worse later than he did now.

  “Work,” Xindella repeated. As Ayne edged out of his seat, Xindella turned back to the transceiver. “U.C.S. ship registry seventy-seven-two-oh-nine identify your commander.”

  Ayne was almost out of the control room when he heard the Ukes answer.

  “We are commanded by Marshall Judoff, who sends the trader Xindella her special greetings and admiration.”

  Without thinking, Ayne ate his remaining piece of gorlet and immediately hated himself for doing it, Xindella for not letting him have more, and Sjean Birkie for having driven him to this point in his life – but most of all, he hated himself.

  ◊ ◊ ◊

  “The alien demanded that it speak directly to you, sha,” Group Leader Kuskuvyet said with an odd leer, “but I told him you were resting and would talk to him when and only when you –“

  “You dirt-brained fool,” Judoff said as she rolled out of bed and reached for her clothes. “You weren’t supposed to aggravate him. How will that help us any?”

  “But, sha, I only meant to make sure he understood who was worthy of the most respect.”

  “Double-fool! You insult him and then expect us to be able to obtain the weapon? He is already angry because you cheated him out of ten thousand credits. If you hadn’t done that, we wouldn’t be facing this problem now.”

  As she fastened her trousers to her blouse, she stared at him, standing there, head hanging, feeling sorry for himself. “If you hadn’t been such a sexual magician,” she said slowly, “I would have done more than demote you from ViceCommander to Group Leader, Tana. And I suspect that someday in the not too distant future I’m going to pay a higher price for your body than I ever intended…just because you are so stupid.”

  “I am sorry, sha,” he said, raising his eyes to meet hers, “very sorry, but…” His voice trailed off under her glare.

  “Come, Tana. It’s not that bad.” She put her hand on his arm. “Let’s go talk to Xindella.”

  They went directly to the bridge and had the communications officer call Xindella. It quickly became obvious that he was not about to speak to them when no one answered their call.

  “Keep trying,” Judoff said, giving Kuskuvyet a withering glare. “If we have to, we’ll go bump his ship.”

  “We have not yet located it, sha,” a handsome young Third Actual said. “We have the other two ships, but not the alien.”

  “And why not?”

  “Many pardons, sha, but the alien is somewhere between us and this sun. Our equipment could not screen out enough of the interference while he was transmitting. We might be able to locate him with a few changes in the equipment, but now, since he is neither moving nor transmitting, we are like blind men searching for light in a cave.”

  “That is all very poetic, Actual,” she said, obviously measuring him with her eyes, “and I would certainly be interested in hearing about any changes you think might improve our equipment – some off-duty watch when you have the time. But have you no suggestions for what we can do right now?”

  The Actual shook his head, a slight blush coloring his cheeks. “Nothing, sha, until he transmits or moves.”

  “Very well. We’ll do what we can to get him transmitting again. Group Leader,” she said, turning to Kuskuvyet, “I want you personally to keep calling until Xindella answers. Also, prepare three homing missiles and lock one each on the two targets we know and the third on the alien when we find him. I will be in my cabin.”

  Kuskuvyet was almost hoarse by the time Xindella deigned to answer the call. In less than a minute after the answer came, Judoff was sitting at the ship-to-ship transceiver.

  “How good to talk to you again, Xindella,” she said, “especially after the unfortunate misunderstanding that ended our last transaction.”

  “Lies. Human lies. It was no not-understanding thing, Judoff. You cheated me. Now you will pay through your Uka nose until it hurts you,” his voice said through heavy static.

  “Let that be in the past,” she said, “and let us talk about the present. When can we examine the weapon?”

  The static rumbled. “When you own it,” Xindella answered. “Only the festbid winner can examine our prizes.”

  “But we must examine it. Otherwise we would be bidding blind, accepting only your word that it is in satisfactory condition and useful to –“

  “It is in satisfactory condition. How you use it is your affair, not mine. In a short while I will
explain the rules and the bidding will begin.”

  “Absolutely unacceptable,” Judoff said, leaning closer to the transceiver. “We cannot, will not, bid until after we have inspected the weapon and assured ourselves that –“

  “Then leave, Judoff,” Xindella said, once again interrupting her. “That would mean less competition, but there is absolutely, to use your word, no way anyone except the winner will be allowed to inspect, examine, or even know the whereabouts of the weapon.”

  Judoff raised an eyebrow. “Do you mean that you don’t have it? That it’s not here?”

  “In a short while I will announce the rules and the bidding will begin,” Xindella repeated.

  “There has to be some way we can compromise on this,” Judoff said. “Surely you understand that we cannot bid until we are sure the weapon is intact and all that you claim it is.”

  “The winner will do that before paying.”

  ◊ ◊ ◊

  “Lucky,” Marsha called for the third time, “wake up”

  A groggy answer came back over the intercom. “Why? What? What’s happening?”

  “Xindella just announced that he is about to give the rules. Grab a couple of cafpicks and get yourself up here.”

  Minutes later Lucky stumbled in and handed her a cafpick.

  “Okay, when’s he going to do it?”

  “Soon,” she said, “but I have a feeling that this may take longer than any of us expected.”

  Lucky rubbed his eyes. “Why?”

  “Because Marshall Judoff is the U.C.S. representative.”

  “Judoff? Didn’t you tell me something about her?”

  “Only that she’s mean and dirty and doesn’t like to play by the rules but will, if she can, bend them her way.

  “Sure. I remember,” Lucky said, rolling his neck around. “She’s the one who pulled her ships out.”

  “One and the same. Anyway, she’s arguing that she isn’t going to bid for anything she can’t see and is demanding inspection rights.”

  “And our host objects? I don’t understand. You mean he –“

  “Attention, all bidders,” Xindella’s static backed voice said from the ship-to-ship speaker, “I am pleased to announce that all interested parties have arrived, and I can give you the rules. You are listening, little Sondak ship, aren’t you?”

  A long interval of uninterrupted static came from the speaker before Xindella spoke again. “It is very simple, little Sondak ship. I saw you enter the system. I know where you are right now, and I assume you are trying to locate me. In a moment I will give the rules and open the bidding. If you are no longer interested in participating, we would all appreciate it you would withdraw from the system. Otherwise Marshall Judoff and her battle cruiser might mistake you for a hostile force. That would indeed be a shame if it were to –“

  “Tell the dirty Sak we already consider it hostile,” Judoff’s voice cut in.

  “Sondak ship registry Laurel-twelve-twelve-four-four “a clear female voice announced.

  “That’s Janette!” Lucky said angrily. “I should have known she would be here, but I damn sure –“ .

  “Inspector Janette?” Xindella’s scratchy voice asked.

  “Yes,” she answered.

  “How undelighted I am to hear your voice again, Inspector, and I must warn you that there are some here even less delighted than I. However, now that I have everyone’s attention, and since I have personally met at least one member of each bidding delegation, I trust you will take me at my word for the manner in which this festbid is about to work. Now if you –“ A long burst of static cut him off.

  Marsha looked at Lucky. “Wonder what’s going on?”

  “Who knows, Mars? Sunburst, maybe?”

  “Pardon the interruption,” Xindella said a few moments later. A member of my crew seems suddenly to have become ill. If you would, please, indicate your readiness to proceed starting with the representative of the Neutral Alliance.

  “Ready,” Marsha said quickly.

  “Sondak?”

  “Ready,” Janette’s voice said in a distracted tone.

  “United Central Systems?”

  “I still must insist that we be allowed inspection of –“

  “Judoff! Either you are ready, or I will terminate this festbid and give the weapon to someone worthy of it.”

  “The U.C.S. is ready – under protest,” Judoff said slowly.

  There was another burst of static before Xindella spoke again. “The rules are simple. The bidding will begin at fifty thousand credits, an amount offered to me prior to this meeting, and will proceed until none of you are willing to raise the bid. Once that occurs, the other two parties will leave the system, and I will make arrangements with the winner...

  “Oh, and one more thing. Should any of you harbor foolish ideas about doing violence either to me or the winner, I must tell you that I have provided for that possibility with an armed escort that would be only too happy to earn the bonus I promised them for blowing you to dust if you break the rules.”

  “Fifty thousand,” Janette said.

  Lucky nodded. “Sixty,” Marsha said.

  “Sixty-two,” Janette responded.

  “Sixty-five,” Judoff said, entering for the first time.

  Marsha put her hand over the microphone. “No bidding while she has the top, right?”

  Lucky sighed. “That’s what we agreed on.”

  “Sixty-seven,” Janette said.

  Marsha waited, expecting Judoff to raise the bid.

  “One hundred thousand credits,” Judoff said confidently, as though she expected no opposition beyond that.

  “Thank you, Marshall Judoff,” Xindella said. “Your bid allows me to inform you that we have a silent bidder who instructed me to open her offer only after the bidding had reached one hundred thousand.”

  “Unfair!” Judoff cried. “How do we know that you are not the silent bidder?”

  “You have no way of knowing that, Judoff. However, I have only one offer from this party, which I am neither authorized to raise nor to lower. If none of you are willing to top that offer, then the weapon and its creator go to the silent bidder. If you are willing to exceed that bid, you will hear no more about her.”

  “Tell us, you scoundrel.”

  “Why Inspector Janette, what harsh words you use sometimes. The silent bidder offers one hundred fifty thousand credits.”

  Marsha and Lucky listened intently to see if either Judoff or Janette was willing to go over that.

  “What do you think, Mars?” Lucky whispered. “We sure didn’t expect this.”

  “No. I don’t know what to do. Delightful Childe said we could go up to two hundred,” she whispered back, “but who else would be bidding?”

  “I don’t know, but I think we’d better offer more.”

  “One hundred fifty-five,” Janette said.

  “One sixty,” Lucky responded.

  “Who was that?” Xindella asked.

  “One hundred sixty thousand credits from the Neutral Alliance,” Marsha answered.

  “The next pause lasted several minutes, until Xindella said, “In a traditional festbid the festmaster says, ‘For the bidder to have. For the bidder to hold. For the bidder to keep.’ If there are no interruptions before the festmaster says to keep, the bidding is concluded. So I begin. For the Neutral Alliance to have. For the Neutral Alli-”

  “One hundred seventy thousand.”

  Marsha looked at Lucky with a sigh of relief. That was Judoff’s voice.

  “One hundred eighty,” Janette said almost immediately.

  “Go to two,” Lucky whispered to Marsha.

  “But what if Janette--” ·

  “She won’t. I think she’s in over her head already. Besides I think both sides are willing to let us have it. That’s why Judoff waited so long.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Just do it, Mars.”

  “To hundred thousand credi
ts,” Marsha said reluctantly.

  Again there was a long silent pause before Xindella said, “For the Neutral Alliance to have…For the Neutral Alliance to hold…For the Neutral Alliance to Keep!”

  “He sounds pleased enough,” Marsha said.

  “I thank you all,” Xindella said. “And now I must ask the other parties to withdraw from this system.”

  ◊ ◊ ◊

  “Good-bye,” Judoff said, “and good luck.” She switched off the transceiver and turned to her Attack Coordinator. “You’re sure the third missile will pick up the alien once he starts to move?

  “Yes, sha. Positive.”

  “Then launch your missiles. Kuskuvyet, as soon as the missiles are launched, head us out of the system slowly.”

  “Yes, sha.”

  Judoff turned to the image of this almost deserted system on the holomap and stared at it, seemingly lost in thought.

  “Missiles away. Beginning departure procedures,” Kuskuvyet said from close beside her.

  “This has to work, Tana, and it has to work quickly,” she said. “I’ll be busy enough reorganizing our fleet once we return. I don’t want to waste any more time here because of stupid mistakes.”

  “I understand, sha. We will get the weapon.”

  Judoff’s only response was a worried shake of her head.

  ◊ ◊ ◊

  “Why have you not begun departing, Inspector Janette?” Xindella’s raspy voice asked.

  “Just a minor problem,” Janette lied as she fired the tiny homing device toward Graycloud. “But I have it fixed now. Good-bye, you scoundrel.”

  “Good-bye, Inspector. May we never meet again?”

  “Can’t tell about those things,” she said as she fired the LPR’s maneuvering rockets. “Keep your nose clean.” In spite of herself she laughed when she thought of Xindella’s half-meter-long nose.

  ◊ ◊ ◊

  “When those two have cleared this system, I will contact you with further instructions,” Xindella said. “I guarantee this on my honor as Delightful Childe’s cousin. Our friends are departing rather slowly, probably trying to listen to what I tell you, so I suggest you rest for a while, as you will not have much time to do that later. Is that agreeable?”