by GARY DARBY
The man shook his head while saying, “I don’t know his name. Never did.”
He jutted his square chin toward where the assassin had disappeared down a side tunnel. “We took all of our orders from Khalid but he never told us who he worked for. He might know his identity, but none of us ever knew. And that’s the honest truth.”
Swallowing hard, he said, “As far as the second question, not until I get something in return.”
“Such as?” Bianca asked.
He stared up at the glowering A’kan. “You don’t turn me over to them. I don’t care what you do with Khalid, but I stay with you.”
“Only, if you can lead us to the hostages,” Bianca replied. “That’s the crux of this whole deal.”
The man’s eyes darted from A’kan back to Bianca. “If what I tell you works out, I go with you, right? And, not with them?” he said, licking dry lips nervously.
Bianca crossed her arms and waited a few seconds before saying, “If what you have to offer checks out, yes. You lie to me, or set me on a false trail . . .”
She paused and pointed toward A’kan. “I give you to them. Now what can you tell me?”
“You have to understand, I don’t know for certain,” the man muttered, “But I overheard Khalid and him talking. I didn’t hear much, just something about Marsten’s and Alpha Pegasi Three.”
“Why there?” Bianca asked with furrowed brows.
The man shook his head and glanced down at the floor. “Like I said, I didn’t hear what they said other than what I told you. However, when he returned, he was in a real hurry.
“Grabbed the XTs, the device thing, the other two we were holding and headed for the cruiser. Hot-jetted it straight out of here.”
“To Marsten’s Planet or Pegasi Three?” Bianca demanded.
The man raised his eyes. “I don’t know, honestly I don’t. That’s it, that’s everything. I swear.”
Bianca motioned for Dason and A’kan to follow her. Out of earshot from the others, she said, “I’m inclined to believe him. I don’t know what you said to him A’kan, but the look on his face said it all.”
A’kan’s rumble was like the purring of an enormous cat. “For one such as that, I merely encouraged his own dark inner self to fill in the details of a most gruesome future.”
Bianca glanced over at Dason with a tiny, wry smile. “Well, your little ruse worked,” Bianca remarked. “Good acting job.”
He gave her a knowing smile. “I learned from the best.”
She smiled back before facing A’kan. “Will you now accept our pledge that these humans will face justice?”
A’kan considered her question before saying in a slow, deliberate tone, “For now, your word I will accept. But remember well, human Ki’mi, the Sha’anay will hold your people accountable if Tor’al is not returned to us unharmed and soon.”
His lips drew back while saying, “I do not think you want to meet our wrath.”
Bianca raised her head and met A’kan’s eyes squarely. “No A’kan, we do not want to meet your wrath, but I assure you, you don’t want to meet ours either.”
The two glared at each for a moment before A’kan dutifully gave Bianca a small bow of the head.
To break the tension Dason quickly spoke up. “Ma’am, we have to follow this trail. We can’t wait for the Imperium to act, and we need to move now, if that cruiser is headed to Marsten’s, it’s got hours of lead time on us.”
“I agree,” Bianca replied and turned to A’kan. “Then let’s hurry and make preparations to leave this place.”
She strode over to where the Faction sat and ordered, “Shelby, take this one to the ship, tell Brant I want both of them under armed guard at all times.”
Shelby turned to El’am and held out her hand. “May I have my weapon back? It would make guarding this one a bit easier, don’t you think?”
El’am gave her a knowing nod and handed her the ta-gun. Bianca watched as Shelby pushed the man toward the exit tunnel before saying to Dason in an anguished, angry tone. “Do you know what happened here?”
She swept an arm at the survivors, and the waiting wounded. “Those two used them as human targets, like they were at some practice range.
“But instead of dummy targets, they shot at living, human beings, killing and maiming just for so-called fun.”
Shaking her head, she lowered her gaze to the floor. “When I think about that, I have to admit, it turns my stomach so much that I’m about ready to renege on my promise and turn those two scum over to the Sha’anay.”
A short time later, after the last of the wounded and survivors had been loaded aboard the Faction craft, Brant approached Bianca and said, “Might have some good news for a change.
“Anyar and I were looking over the Zephyr’s hyperdrive. The drive isn’t damaged. It’s the compu program that controls the warp field phasing.
“The g-wave harmonics must have affected the phasing, and the computer couldn’t compensate, so it automatically threw the ship back into sublight. And the program itself was somehow corrupted.”
“Can it be fixed?” Bianca asked.
Brant gave a little shrug. “Anyar thinks—maybe. He’s trying to reprogram the subroutines, see if he can do a temporary workaround. It might work, it might not.
“His exact words were, ‘Don’t get your hopes up, and you might want to start thinking about how you’re going to squeeze all of us into the Faction cruiser.”
“Well,” Bianca let out a long breath, “if anyone can make it work, it’s Anyar. He’s the closest thing we’ve got to a techie-geek on the team. Still, even with another n-space capable ship, it’s still going be tight quarters in the cruiser.”
Dason, Bianca, and Brant joined Anyar in the Zephyr and listened to him while he sat in the pilot’s pod. With a little gesture toward the control board he said, “I’ve done what I can.
“It most likely needs an overhaul from a compu specialist, but I think the worst that will happen is that if the warp field goes out of phase again, it’ll do the same thing as before, throw the ship back into sublight.”
“So no guarantee that it will stay in n-space?” Bianca asked.
Anyar shook his head in response. “Sorry, no can do. What I’ve done is strictly jerry-rigged and it might hold up and it might not. But like I said, if the phasing fails, the safety protocols will kick in and shut down the hyperdrive.
“At least it won’t go into overload and blow up. Or . . . At least I don’t think it will.”
“That’s a comforting thought,” Bianca glumly replied.
She sat tapping with one finger on the pilot’s console for several moments, deep in thought before saying, “Well, that settles it. Brant, take charge of the cruiser. You’re going to have to find a way to keep our combatants separated.
“I don’t want A’kan and his clan mates anywhere near close proximity to those two Faction. They’re still pretty riled and it wouldn’t take much to push them over the edge.”
She motioned to Dason and Anyar. “I’ll take these two and fly the Zephyr. If she does shut down, we’ll just have to do a ship-to-ship spacewalk, and the fewer we have on the Zephyr, the easier that will be.
“And as we haven’t got a p-suit in quadruple ‘X’ size to fit a Sha’anay, that’s another reason that they’ll have to go in the cruiser.”
Brant gave a quick nod and headed for the airlock. Bianca turned and gave a quick order to Dason. “Check the p-suits, make sure they’re serviceable and ready to go in case we do have to abandon ship.”
A half hour later, Dason sat in the pilot’s chair, with Anyar seated next to him. Standing in the pod doorway, Bianca said, “Dason, you’ll take us out, but get some distance from Big Bertha before you go to hyperlight. Anyar, is the compu ready?”
“Yes ma’am,” he replied. “Let’er rip.”
“I hope you meant that rhetorically,” Bianca replied drily.
“Sorry, poor choice of words.”
“Brant,” Bianca called over the comms, “we’re ready here. You?”
“We’re set,” Brant replied.
“Are the prisoners secure?”
“Very, very secure,” Brant answered. “I found a small, empty compartment aft and locked the Faction goons in with a guard outside. The others are under guard too but aft as well. The injured and the Sha’anay will stay forward.”
His laugh was hollow as he said, “I think the collaborators are quite afraid of the Sha’anay. I doubt that they’ll be giving us any trouble.”
“Sounds good,” Bianca replied. “Remember, those two Faction henchmen are your main worry. Keep an eye on them at all times.”
“Understood.”
“We’ll boost first,” she instructed, “you follow. Keep an open comms-link in case we have to holler for help.”
With a little smile to Dason she said, “Let me get buckled in this time before you shoot us out of here.”
Dason waited until Bianca gave him the go-ahead before he applied power to his thrusters, lifting the little ship off the ground.
Seconds later the craft raised its nose skyward, and leaped into the sky. Once they cleared the atmosphere, Bianca came forward.
Turning his head to her, Dason said, “I’ve set the n-space program to initiate in thirty minutes, is that sufficient?”
Bianca nodded in response. “Should be. Anyar?”
“She’s green across the board, ma’am, so far so good.”
Dason rechecked his controls before asking, “Ma’am, we’re going to send a message to Star Scout Command, right?”
“Brant will send it as soon as they’ve got good comms,” Bianca replied. “The cruiser’s got a little more juice to punch a message through. Why?”
“They’ll send help, to help us find Tor’al?”
Bianca was slow to answer. “I’m not sure. Think about it, if you were on the High Council, where would you direct your energy and resources?
“Against a known threat in the form of the Mongan fleet, or the Sha’anay’s perceived threat?”
Dason mulled over her answer before saying, “Even if it’s for someone of Tor’al’s stature?”
“Even if it’s someone like Tor’al,” she answered frankly.
“Try to realize,” she went on, “what the Imperium must be feeling after seeing their fleet ripped apart by a few Mongan ships. If the Mongans can do that with a dozen or so ships, what if they have a hundred, two hundred, or more, in their fleet?”
Dason and Anyar exchanged grim looks. “So, no help,” Dason said. “And that means we’re pretty much on our own. So what are we going to do?”
Bianca stared out the window at the gas giant’s flowing orange and white strips before saying, “Right now? Head for Marsten’s and along the way come up with a plan that doesn’t get us blown out of Marsten’s airspace or ambushed on the ground once we set down.”
She gave Dason a direct stare. “So I suggest that whatever we come up with, we would do well to keep that in mind, or none of us will walk a scout trail again.”
Chapter Eighteen
Star date: 2443.082
In Transit to Marsten’s World
Leaning back in the pilot’s contoured chair in the Zephyr’s command pod, Bianca’s eyes narrowed as she muttered to Dason and Anyar, “As Sami would say, this could be a tougher eggshell to crack that I supposed.”
She motioned toward the hologram that floated above the command console and displayed a desert-like planet. The three intently scrutinized the hologram that displayed the dusky tans and browns of Marsten’s World.
“Three small settlements,” she said to Dason and Anyar. “None of which have more than a few thousand residents, plus quite a number of smaller outlying desert mining operations scattered all across the surface.”
“I don’t think,” Dason remarked, “that even in our planetology coursework at school that I’ve ever seen a planet so flat and featureless. It’s like someone took a jumbo grader and scraped everything practically flat.”
Anyar leaned forward, examining the planet’s topology and commented, “I don’t see anything that’s more than a few hundred meters in height. And those appear to be nothing but huge sand dunes.”
“Believe it or not,” Bianca explained, “Marsten’s was once completely covered by one enormous ocean that covered the planet from pole-to-pole.”
She made several adjustments to the hologram and abruptly, the holographic image showed a planet covered in deep blues and lighter turquoises—a water world.
“That’s Neptunis,” Bianca said, “a planet very similar to what Marsten’s World appeared about, oh, three billion years ago. Give or take a hundred million, or so.”
Bianca tapped on her holo-governing controls again and slowly, before the two young scouts eyes the water drained away on Neptunis leaving a baked, dry, desert appearing surface.
“For some reason, unlike our water world there, Marsten’s planetary orbit changed and it slid in closer to its sun. Over a billion years or thereabouts, the water boiled off, leaving behind what you see.”
She changed the image back to Marsten’s World which was practically identical to the desolate image of Neptunis without its oceans.
“If it weren't for vast aquifers, deep underground, there wouldn’t be any water left at all. In a few places, the water percolates to the surface, forming good-sized oases, and that’s where you’ll find the bigger settlements.”
“A planet-sized Sahara Desert,” Anyar commented.
“A good analogy,” Bianca responded, “except that you won’t find camels in these deserts. They have other not-as-nice life forms roaming around.”
She caused the hologram to tilt toward Dason and Anyar. “While most of the planet is too hot for human habitation, the two polar regions are bearable, if you can call daytime temperatures hot enough to fry an egg, ‘bearable’.”
Enlarging the view, she outlined two small, but darker areas. “These two towns are the largest and Lacville, the one closest to what’s deemed the planetary north pole has the best medical facilities.
“Actually, to phrase it better, it has the only real med facility in the northern hemisphere and for all intents and purposes, the best the planet has to offer.”
Rocking back in her chair, she tapped one finger on the armrest. “From what I’ve researched in our data bank, Marsten’s is pretty nondescript except for one item I found in the Galactica that struck me as rather odd.
“Lacville—”
“Excuse me ma’am,” Anyar interrupted to say, “I thought you might have mispronounced it earlier. Did you say ‘Lacville’?”
“That’s the way it’s spelled in the Galactica,” Bianca responded.
Anyar started chuckling. “That’s pretty rich, I must admit.”
Bianca and Dason exchanged puzzled looks. “Want to share what’s so funny?” Bianca asked.
Anyar grinned. “Loosely translated, or should I say very loosely translated from old-style Terran French, Lacville means ‘village next to lake’.”
He gestured to the barren, waterless planet and chortled again. “Either someone had a sense of humor, or some serious wishful thinking.”
“More probably,” Bianca muttered, “someone with a keen sense of public relations or marketing trying to sell some non-existent lakeside property.”
She gave a little shrug. “Anyway our village next to a lake had a one-sentence entry in the Galactica that noted there was a mining and chemical operation nearby whose sole product is of all things, nanoplasam.”
“Nanoplasam!” Anyar exclaimed. His eyebrows furrowed noticeably as he remarked, “That’s pretty sophisticated stuff for a planet that sits way out in the middle of nowhere.”
His mouth turned down in a frown. “Kinda far from the Imperium’s inner-world markets too now that I think about it.”
“My thought, too,” Bianca mused. “I don’t recall of ever hearing or seeing a nanoplasm manufac
turing facility so far off the beaten path, but then again I’m no expert in manufacturing or commerce for that matter.”
“Wait,” Dason said, “I’m not familiar with nanoplasam, what—”
Bianca laughed in reply. “Oh, but you are, Scout Thorne, you are. In fact, I would say that among us three, you are possibly the most familiar with the substance. And in a very up close and personal way, too.”
Dason glanced from a smiling Bianca to a grinning Anyar. He raised his arms in a gesture of puzzlement. “Okay, I give up; you’ve stumped this dummy.”
Anyar laughed at Dason’s expression of helplessness. “One purpose of nanoplasam, among several, is that it’s used as the mold substance in SimLife construction.
“It's very unique chemical composition allows the microscopic electrical impulses within the nanocircuitry to flow uninhibited through the SimLife skeletal arrangement.
“Without nanoplasam it would be almost impossible to mimic a nervous system’s interaction with muscle and bone, make it move with lifelike animation.”
Bianca took up the explanation. “It’s pretty tricky stuff, but a master SimLife construction engineer can mold or shape it into just about any form you want.”
She leaned close to Dason and took his hands to wave them back and forth next to his head, like large batlike ears. “To include a certain Torther Ape that you met most recently.”
“Oh . . .” Dason let out in one long sustained breath as they both laughed out loud. “Don’t remind me,” he muttered in response to their laughter. “I still get nightmares from that thing.”
Scratching at his head, he mused aloud. “So, this out-of-the-way world, with a population that wouldn’t even match one Luna underground warren, produces an exotic chemical material and no market nearby?”
“Appears that way,” Bianca responded in a thoughtful tone.
She began tapping on the console with one finger, as was her custom when she was thinking deeply. With furrowed brow, she noted, “The Galactica also said that the amount they produce isn’t in major commercial quantities, either.”
“Is that significant in some way?” Dason asked.