“There’s a facility about forty lights away. It’s off the geodesic line going to GT 4, which means a longer trip getting there after repairs are finished, but the speedster ought to be up to a hundred and some odd light years.”
“I’ve gone as far as five hundred in one shift,” she said proudly. Kinsolving shook his head. Such a distance was reckless. Small errors at launch in the vector turned into monumental errors over five hundred light years. Most travel was accomplished by smaller shifts, often less than twenty light years, with course corrections at every shift back into four-space.
Kinsolving started to give the command to shift to the repair facility, then stopped.
“What’s wrong, darling?” Lark asked.
“What am I going to use for money to fix the ship?”
“Oh, silly, don’t worry. My credit is good everywhere. What’s the world we’re shifting to?”
Kinsolving checked. “Upsilon Triangulis 2.”
“No need to worry. I know all the mechanics there.”
Kinsolving didn’t doubt her for an instant. He toggled the switch and the speedster surged into hyperspace, following a mathematically precise path through-past-around regular space.
“You do know all the workmen,” Kinsolving said in amazement. Lark had greeted each one of the men and women by name — and they all seemed to know her, as if she had been gone only a few hours.
“When you travel like I do, it pays to know the people who can put your ship back together. The Nightingale doesn’t need much work, usually.” Lark shrugged. “But sometimes I get impatient and do things like trying to radio from hyperspace. That was dumb. I remember everyone, and I mean everyone, telling me I shouldn’t do that. But it came out all right.” She clung to his arm and rubbed herself against him seductively. “I did meet you, Barton. Anything that lets that happen couldn’t be all bad, could it?”
“It might be.” Kinsolving stayed in the background, trying not to let the workers see him clearly. He had no idea what hue and cry might go up for him. The aliens had boasted about no one ever escaping from their prison world.
Had anyone made it away and had then been killed? Or was he really the first to ever leave the planet’s gravity well alive?
“Sweet ship,” one technician said. “Sorry to see Lark abuse her so badly.”
“Been rough,” Kinsolving said, deciding not replying would attract more attention than speaking.
“Looks as if you’ve been in a battle. Laser melts on the side. Some of the aluminum exterior has spalled. Sensors overloaded, emergency rocket fuel gone, as if you’ve been maneuvering heavily.” The tech turned and peered hard at Kinsolving. “You’re not getting Lark into smuggling, are you?”
The shocked expression on Kinsolving’s face made the technician laugh. “That was just a joke. I didn’t mean it, though Lark would do anything once just for the experience.”
“She’s quite a woman,” Kinsolving said.
“That she is. But I imagine you’ve found out in ways I never will.” The tech looked around, then dropped into the couch and said in a conspiratorial whisper, “Lark and I did slip off together once. God, what that woman can do with a ten volt battery and some wires! She’s a real inspiration to us. Not many ships come into UT 2. Not a one of them has a captain as gorgeous — or willing — as Lark, either.”
“I wouldn’t think so.”
“Where you two headed when you leave?” Kinsolving held back a sharp retort to tell the man to not ask such personal questions. Instead he said cautiously, “You know Lark. Just launch and wherever the prow points, that’s where we go.”
“What a life. Envy her. Hell, man, I envy you getting to go along. But you’ll burn out. Every man she’s ever brought to UT 2 hasn’t lasted long. She burns ’em out then finds another. But it’s great while it lasts.”
Kinsolving nodded and let the technician finish replacing the circuitry under the computer console that had tested bad.
“That’s all I can do. If Lark destroys it again, bring it back and let me fix it one more time.”
“Can you do the same for me?” Kinsolving asked. The tech laughed and slapped him on the back.
The instant the man left the cockpit, Kinsolving dropped into the couch and began running his own checks on the circuitry. Everything read out perfectly.
“They do such good work, don’t they, darling Barton?” asked Lark.
“They do. Let’s get going. I don’t — ” Kinsolving stopped when he saw the burly, armed man with Lark.
“This is Idi. He’s station master. He’s such a dear. He wanted to check out everything to make sure I’d be all right.”
“Your crew did a fine job,” Kinsolving said.
“Let me check it out. This is the only way I’ll be satisfied.” He motioned Kinsolving from the couch. Kinsolving reluctantly vacated so that the huge black man could begin his own examination.
Lark clung to Kinsolving, but the man grew increasingly uneasy. Idi had performed the same circuit check four times; each pass had resulted in a green light indicating nominal performance.
“Why is he stalling?” Kinsolving whispered to Lark.
Her eyebrows shot up and the colors under her skin swirled in crazy eddies. Kinsolving motioned her to silence when Idi’s com-link sputtered into life. Kinsolving didn’t understand much of what was said, but he caught his name — that was enough to galvanize him into action.
Fists closed and held together, he swung as hard as he could and caught the station master at the base of his massive neck. The jolt rocked Idi forward, but it was Kinsolving’s second blow that laid him out on the cockpit deck.
“Why did you do that?” protested Lark. “He’s a good friend!”
“I think I broke my hands,” moaned Kinsolving. “Help me get him out. Didn’t you hear the message that came in over his com-link? He was stalling until he got verification that I was a fugitive.”
“Really?” Lark’s angry expression faded and sunlight once more shone from her eyes. “How thrilling! We’re running from the law! Just like in those old 2D flickering things that Prinz projects against a wall. They’re so silly, but fun!”
Lark helped Kinsolving drag the heavy man to the air lock. On impulse, Kinsolving stripped Idi of the com-link and a small stun tube tucked away inside his shirt so that just the handle had been visible. Then he rolled the man outside and started the lock cycling shut.
“Punch in the coordinates for Gamma Tertius 4,” he ordered Lark. “I want an optimum course, minimum time.”
“That’s the only way I travel.” She competently set the controls and let the nav-computer do its job. “This is so photonic!” she enthused. “I’m so happy I met you, Bart darling!”
Kinsolving wasn’t convinced that he should allow her to continue with his dangerous mission. Lark had proven useful to this point, but any further might endanger her life. That she reveled in this had nothing to do with it.
But Kinsolving couldn’t put her off the Nightingale. Not now. Not when the ship’s sensors showed building EM fields around the newly repaired hull. The crew at the UT 2 station swung a laser cannon around in an effort to undo all they’d done.
“Hurry,” Kinsolving said nervously. “They’re getting ready to fire on us. That’s their aiming field. That’s what is causing the instruments to jump around.”
“Don’t worry,” said Lark. “We’ll make it.” Her hand descended to the launch button just as the starship gave a mighty shudder.
Barton Kinsolving wasn’t sure whether they had shifted into hyperspace or the laser had found its target.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Gamma Tertius 4 throbbed with activity. Even from parking orbit above the desolate world, Barton Kinsolving saw the vitality and energy in the single large city spreading more than ten thousand hectares across the bowl of a gigantic meteor crater. The planet had been airless and worthless to the other starfaring races.
Thaddeus McIntyre had arrived
and seen more to the barren rock world than any of the others. His first duty had been to name the tall mountains, one rising at either side of the huge dish-shaped depression in the side of the planet. Mt. Abrupt at the far eastern end was taller than Mt. New Daisy Bates in the west. Then McIntyre set to work with primitive terraforming equipment. Over two hundred years, Interstellar Materials had taken over the work, added sophisticated devices to hold in not only atmosphere but also heat and had transformed the rocky bowl into a miniature paradise.
Kinsolving had been to GT 4 twice. Both times the sight of the green bowl set amid the brown and gray nothingness of the rest of the radiation-wracked world had made him think of Earth and Japanese bonsai trees. A miniature world grew and thrived in the pot of the meteor crater.
“Lovely,” he said, not able to take his eyes off the speedster’s forward vidscreen.
“Look, Barton darling. There’s the corporate headquarters building. Isn’t it cosmic?” Lark fiddled with the vidscreen controls and zoomed in on the two-hundred-story-tall structure of gold and emerald splinters, each segment daring to thrust higher than the last until the upper floors extended beyond the dome of atmosphere and into the vacuum of space. “The entire top floor is executive offices.”
Kinsolving tried to imagine the view from there and failed. Situated directly in the center of the huge crater, anyone on that floor had an unsullied view of hundreds of kilometers over the perfectly kept city below.
“That level, level one hundred one, is the party suite. The entire floor!” Lark didn’t try to restrain her enthusiasm for once again being at the heart of serious fun.
Kinsolving saw the single flashing light on the control panel. GT Landing Authority needed information before allowing them to leave the Nightingale — and Kinsolving couldn’t supply it.
He silently indicated that Lark should arrange for transport and care for the speedster while they were below. He swallowed hard and glanced around the small cockpit. He had grown used to the Nightingale. Kinsolving smiled ruefully. It hadn’t been hard to do, either. Not with every creature comfort imaginable — and not with Lark Versalles aboard.
He knew he might be forfeit if he couldn’t contact people willing to plead his case before Chairman Fremont. And even if he succeeded in getting his story to the chairman, that didn’t mean Fremont would turn Humbolt and Cameron over to the Lorr for punishment. A director possessed immense power in IM, or any comparably sized off-Earth corporation. Charging Humbolt with the crimes of ore theft and murder and all the rest would cause trouble that might rock Interstellar Materials all the way to the foundations of its immense, beautiful headquarters.
Kinsolving had to rely on Chairman Fremont’s integrity to take such risks. He didn’t even want to consider the possibility that the rare earths had been stolen on the chairman’s orders.
“Hello,” Lark called in response to LAs identification request. “Here’s the tape on the ship. It has all those silly numbers and things.” She played out the registry tape.
“Welcome to Gamma Tertius 4, Nightingale,” came the immediate response. “How many in your party will be shuttling down to the city?”
“Two,” Lark answered without even glancing at Kinsolving. He had wanted her to say only one — he’d risk stowing away to avoid entry procedures. Now his chance for clandestine entry had vanished. “And this time get a good pilot. I was here six months ago and the landing was awful. It jarred my teeth it was so rough.”
“You must have drawn Bone-breaker Benitez,” came the cheerful reply. “We’ll see what we can do for you this time. Good, good. How’s Chairman Fremont’s personal pilot sound? He’s landing for the anniversary party, too.”
“Oh, photonic! We’re in time for it,” Lark said. “I don’t want to miss a single instant of the parties.”
“You’re in time, Lark. Treanna’s on her way over. You won’t have any problems with her landing. Always soft as a lover’s touch.”
“Thank you, LA.” Lark smiled wickedly and toggled the call switch again. “Any chance that you’ll be at the party?”
Laughter echoed from the speaker. “Sorry, Lark. No chance. LA’s having a party of its own. Nothing as fancy as that on one-oh-one.”
“I might come by if the one-oh-one party gets dull.”
“Too bad we won’t see you,” the Landing Authority controller said. “That party’ll never get dull. Not if it lasts till the three hundredth anniversary.”
To Kinsolving, Lark said, “This is so much fun. I’m glad your orbit crossed mine.”
“They’ll be looking for me,” Kinsolving said, more to himself than to Lark. Then he began to really think. This anniversary party atmosphere might be his savior, if he proved bold enough to take advantage of it.
“You’ll be with me, silly,” Lark said, as if this made everything all right. Seeing his expression, she said, “As long as you’re with me, who’s going to look at you? They’ll all be watching me!”
Kinsolving had to laugh. “I’m sure they will,” he said. “Anyone as lovely as you has to be the center of attention.”
“I’ve got to pack for the party. This Treanna person won’t be docking for almost an hour. You keep watch, though, just to be sure. It never pays to keep one of those menials waiting long. I think that’s why the landing was so rough last time.” With that Lark Versalles vanished, on her way to pack for the anniversary party.
All Kinsolving could do was sit and worry. By the time the shuttle docked and he had helped Lark carry her cosmetics and jewelry cases into the cargo bay, he was keyed up to the point of explosion.
The shuttle down went quickly and smoothly; Kinsolving saw why Fremont had chosen this woman to be his personal pilot. Every move she made at the controls was precise and economical and the landing at the LA field near the edge of the city was over before he noticed they had even begun their final descent.
“All out,” Treanna called back. “Don’t worry about your cases, Lark. The handlers will take them to your usual suite. We’re all glad you could make the party.”
Kinsolving shot Lark a startled look. The pilot made it sound as if Lark was more than guest.
“Is your father going to make it?” Treanna asked.
“I don’t think so. Daddy is always working so hard. I haven’t seen him in over a year now. And he hates to travel.”
“We’re all happy his daughter doesn’t share that trait,” Treanna said. “You always brighten any gathering. See you on the way back!”
“Thanks,” Lark said, distracted. She drifted from the shuttle, paying no attention to anything going on around her. Kinsolving followed at a discreet three paces, able to see everything and not be intrusive. He tensed as he walked out the passenger tunnel and into the main terminal, expecting armed guards to grab him.
Only the usual bustle of the Landing Authority greeted him. Lark walked through the clearance station without slowing. Kinsolving tried to do the same and was stopped by the clerk.
“Entry visa and travel papers,” the clerk demanded. Lark had already vanished, off in search of new thrills, already bored with the bureaucratic demands.
Kinsolving glanced around and decided against using the stun rod he had strapped along his left forearm and hidden by his shirt sleeve. Too many guards prowled the corridors. None had focused on him yet. Any attack on the clerk would draw them like iron filings to a magnet.
“Lost my papers and visa,” he said. The clerk’s sour expression foretold a long and tedious wait. Kinsolving decided on a bolder approach. He couldn’t be in any worse a position for the attempt — and the jumble of data entries might work in his favor. “My name’s Barton Kinsolving, supervisor of mines, Deepdig, here as Chairman Fremont’s personal guest for the anniversary.”
“Supervisor?” the clerk said, one eyebrow rising slightly. “What happened to your papers?”
“That’s a long story. I’ve filed the report with Director Humbolt. Kenneth Humbolt,” he said, spelling it for
the clerk. “He’s my immediate superior.” The names Kinsolving tossed around so easily impressed the clerk. Kinsolving thought his heart would explode from the effort of remaining outwardly calm while the clerk entered the data given him.
“Don’t have an entry on your visa or travel orders, Supervisor, but the computer is backlogged over a week. The anniversary celebration is bringing in people from Earth and all over.”
Kinsolving didn’t want to point out that it was longer than this since he’d been convicted by the Lorr. He had taken the chance that Humbolt wouldn’t attend to the personnel files himself. If left to any of the subordinates on Deepdig, his records might take months to arrive. Pumping out the mine would require shift-to-shift attention. With the trouble Ala Markken and the others had experienced, he didn’t think record updates would rank high on their priorities. And if Ala had been returned to Gamma Tertius 4, that left only decidedly inferior workers in charge.
“Here are duplicates of your identicard and papers, Supervisor. You’ll have to verify first. Press your hands here. Good. And for the dupes I need your retinal pattern, too.”
Kinsolving lowered his face to the soft-covered ocular and blinked as the laser scanned his left eye and matched it with records hidden deep in the corporate computer. He heaved a sigh of relief when no bells went off, when no guards came running after him.
“Have a great time, Supervisor.”
“Thanks.” Kinsolving turned to follow the course Lark had taken.
“Supervisor!” Kinsolving froze in his tracks. He slowly turned to face the clerk. “The blond woman that went through with Absolute Clearance. Was she with you?”
“Yes,” Kinsolving said cautiously.
“Nothing,” the clerk said. The expression of lust and envy on his face told the story. Kinsolving didn’t have to be a telepath to know what the clerk’s thoughts were, either. Lucky bastard, had to run through his mind.
Barton Kinsolving had acted with boldness and won. The company computer hadn’t yet been flagged to record any use of his name or identicard. Until such time, he could live well and devote his full attention to reaching Chairman Fremont.
The Stellar Death Plan (Masters of Space Book 1) Page 13