"Just what I need,"" Kiril said ruefully, "a role in a talking crab's poem."
Kiril stood nervously between Nancy and Lafayette. Her life aboard ship had been agreeably simple and comfortable, and now all was uncertain and insecure again. This situation seemed to overwhelm even her shipmates, and that disturbed her.
"Now, keep in mind," Lafayette urged in a whisper, "you'll get a lot of nasty looks from navy people. Just remember you're a free freighter and pretend they're too low for you to even notice. The line people will be even worse, but pay them no attention." The animosity between the free freighters and the lines was deep and ancient. There was only slightly less hostility toward the navy. Most of the older members of the Angel's crew had at one time served in the navy, but only as wartime duty. Independent freighters were an unruly breed, and hated the regimentation that prevailed in navy and line ships.
When the signal came, the skipper cycled the hatch open. Outside, on the vast deck, was an honor guard of Spacer Marines. The marines were drawn up in a double line facing each other, beam rifles at present arms. They were powerful men in shiny boots and white gloves, and wearing gleaming, black helmets. Of all the services, only Spacer Marines were permitted to handle energy small arms aboard a ship in space. At the far end of the double rank was an officer in full-dress uniform, complete with cape and ceremonial sword.
"They only wear those silly outfits on diplomatic assign-merits," Torwald muttered.
"Shut up, Tor," said the skipper. "All right, crew, let's show 'em who we are."
The Space Angel's crew set off down the ramp in no particular order, vests and shirts unbuttoned, caps pushed back or shoved forward or canted to one side, deliberately exaggerating their slouch and sloppiness to spite the spit-and-polish marines. Homer was burbling one of his alien poems happily, delighted at the odd habits of humans. The towering Vivers eyed the marines with openly contemptuous amusement. A few of the marines, while perfectly motionless, could be seen to sweat.
The officer, while remaining quite correct, grew red about the ears. "Captain HaLevy?" he asked, saluting smartly.
"That's right, sonny," she said. "What's up?"
"You shall be informed in good time. I am Major Martinaux." He was obviously too young to be a major, but by ancient custom, marine captains received the courtesy rank of major while serving aboard ship. There was only one captain in a naval vessel in space. "If you will come this way, please?"
"Do we have any choice?" asked the skipper.
The young officer allowed himself the minutest smile of satisfaction. "None at all." The marines performed a precise facing movement, and the Angel's crew tramped off between the two files. The skipper immediately stepped up next to the officer, on his right side. He looked distinctly nettled.
"The superior officer stands on the right," whispered Lafayette to Kiril. She nodded, beginning to enjoy this games-playing. It confirmed her long-held opinion that all spacers, military or civilian, had the minds of ten-year-olds, but she was determined not to let the team down. She looked at the intimidating marines with the same feigned, amused contempt as the others.
They left the immense landing bay and entered an elevator as large as the Angel's hold. They got off at a landing marked with a complicated blue-and-white insignia. "Diplomatic Corps," said Torwald, in an I-told-you-so tone of voice. From the landing they trooped down a long corridor that was as high-ceilinged as a cathedral. Bay, elevator, and hall were military spare. All was plain, functional, Spartan. The marine guard came to a stomping halt before a huge double door. The officer presented himself to a small sensor plate set in one of the doors. There was a musical beep and the portals swung wide. They entered, leaving the honor guard outside.
Within the doors, it seemed like another ship. Here, all was luxury. They were in a suite furnished with exotic woods, leathers, furs, marbles, and metals, the finest materials of many far-flung worlds. Each fitting, furnishing, and decoration was a priceless work of art. Kiril gaped about her. To her, the frugal environs of the Space Angel had seemed the height of luxury. This was staggering. Nancy elbowed her in the ribs and she resumed her air of disdain.
"Nice place you got here," said the skipper, knocking an ash into a priceless tray carved from Spica ruby. "1 don't think this suite was in this tub when I served in her. Let's see, that would've been about the time you were being toilet-trained, Major." Her pronunciation of his rank left no doubt as to her opinion of its validity.
"If you will wait here, Captain, you shall be met presently by persons authorized to discuss the situation." The officer whirled and stalked off in a furious huff, his back ramrod stiff.
"No action these days to knock the starch out of 'em," the skipper mused.
They flopped on the couches and hassocks and made themselves comfortable while awaiting the attentions of the powers-that-be. Homer began humming a Bach string quartet, which his multitudinous vocal chords could reproduce with astonishing fidelity.
Kiril sat in a chaise longue, feeling its softness yield perfectly to every angle of her still-bony body. The effect was unsettling, but she was sure that she could get to like it, given continued proximity.
A door opened and a man in civilian clothes bearing the badge of the Diplomatic Corps entered. He was short, fat, and gray-haired, and he smiled benignly as he offered his hand to the skipper.
"Ah, Captain HaLevy, welcome. I do apologize for the abrupt summons and the peremptory manner in which it was phrased. It was, however, a matter of state security. Ah, here is the admiral." Through another door came a taller man, broad and blocky, but carrying no surplus flesh. He wore a navy dress uniform, much plainer than the marine variety, with three silver comets blazing from each epaulet.
"I'm Nagamitsu," he said without preamble. "You people will be the officers and crew of Space Angel?" He glanced quickly over them. "Of course you are. Your pictures were everywhere a while back. And I've seen this remarkable being ii i number of scientific functions." He smiled down at Homer.
"Honored to make your acquaintance. Admiral," said the kipper, sounding as if she meant it.
"Let's get down to business," said the admiral. "This gentleman is the honorable Winston Pierce of the Diplomatic Corps. Mr. Pierce, perhaps you had better begin."
"Well, ah, it seems that we are in for exciting times. First, a short while back the Space Angel returned from her unprecedented voyage to the center of the galaxy, in the process of which was proven once and for all that other intelligent life exists within our galaxy. Now, it seems, other Earth spacers have arrived at a similar discovery independently."
Everyone sat up straighter. Their own voyage had been involuntary; accomplished under the control of an unimaginably powerful being that took them far beyond the areas explored by humans. Intelligent aliens had never before been encountered in human-occupied space.
"Last year a merchant vessel, scouting new areas for exploitation, encountered an alien settlement. It was inhabited by a large colony of intelligent creatures. In accordance with Rule One, passed more than a century ago, he did not attempt communication, but restricted himself to taking images and readings, and refrained from any action which might be misinterpreted as hostile. Upon his return to Earth, the captain of the ship very wisely bound his crew to secrecy and informed only the superiors of his line whom he knew to have top security clearances. These, in turn, informed the Security Council."
"That's news of a high order, all right," said the skipper. "But just where do our humble selves come into all this?"
"The Council has decided that, as the only humans with any extensive dealings with intelligent alien beings in the past, your services in an advisory capacity might be of considerable value."
"And the rate of pay?" she asked.
"It shall be substantial. You will bear in mind, of course, that you will be serving the government."
"That government hasn't done much for us lately," said the skipper. "After our 'epochal journey,' as it was
called, the government confiscated our whole cargo "
"For further study, of course. I might add that your cooperation in this matter could greatly facilitate the release of those items."
"Put that in writing and you have a ship," said the skipper. "Assuming, of course, that the rest of my crew agrees." She looked around. The rest gave reluctant nods. Kiril was a little puzzled at their attitude, but she left the question for later.
"Now," said the admiral, "let's show these people what little we know so far." He punched a button in the arm of his chair, and a man promptly appeared through a door. He appeared to be around thirty years old and he wore the uniform of the Satsuma Line, with the collar insignia of a captain in the Expeditionary Branch.
"This," said Nagamitsu, "is Mr. Ng, master of the Hideyoshi. It was his ship that discovered the aliens." Ng inclined his head slightly toward the Angel's spacers. Behind him an entire half of the large room filled with pale green light. It was an immense holographic tank. Ng began his monologue in a dry tone which indicated that he had delivered it frequently of late.
"My ship was on an assignment to check out the system around D6835, a G-type in the Pleiades Sector. It was a standard system: four gas giants, six ice-and-rock balls, and two Earth-types, one of them so marginal as to exclude colonization short of finding really valuable and exploitable materials. Naturally, I turned my attention to the better Earth-type.
"I established orbit and instituted a scan. Immediately my instruments picked up a signal on a band not commonly used. I suspected a smuggler or pirate base and look suitable precautions to avoid being detected myself. My computer could make nothing of the signal after extended analysis, so I determined to make a reconnaissance."
"Kind of risky, wasn't it?" said Torwald.
"My ship is equipped with the armament customary for a line explorer," said Ng, with a touch of superiority, "and any such base could represent a threat to any ships of my line that might follow.
"I spotted the location of the signal's source. It was a rather large facility, much larger than any smuggler or pirate base would be. At first I thought it might be a base for a rival line, but after double-checking official records, I was sure that no legitimate concern had filed a claim anywhere in that system. I next considered the possibility of a secret military installation, but soon discarded that."
"They'd never have let you file a spacing plan for that system if that'd been the case," said Ham.
"Exactly," said Ng. "I could see that something peculiar was going on, to say the least. This is what I was watching through my screens." The holo tank showed a series of buildings as seen telescopically from space. They looked small, but there was no scale to judge them by. Their outlines were hazy, apparently from the intervening atmosphere. "I tried to get better resolution through computer enhancement, but was unable to. That should have tipped me off, but at the time the idea of alien settlements was still theoretical. This was, you understand, before news of the Space Angel's feat had reached the sector where I was stationed." He favored the Angel's crew with another, barely civil nod.
"While debating my next move, I saw this In the tank a ship suddenly appeared from outside the viewer's range, headed for what was obviously a landing apron on the ground. All sat up straight, even Nagamitsu, who, Kiril thought, must have seen this holo many times before. The room erupted in muttering and exclamations from her shipmates. Kiril was no expert on spacecraft, but even she could see that this ship was not of any design produced by humans. It was a collection of spheres of varying sizes, arranged in an irregular circle and connected by a system of delicate struts. The whole thing was colored black.
"Can we get a close-up of that thing?" the skipper asked.
"Certainly," said Nagamitsu, "but you'll be disappointed." The strange craft froze in position and the viewer zoomed in. As the perspective shortened, the resolution got no clearer. Wavy, shimmering lines interposed to make every feature of the ship unclear and hazy. "As you can see, the ship, like the ground facility, employed a masking device, much like the one Mr. Ng used to avoid detection, but far more sophisticated. Please continue, Mr. Ng." ,
"There is little more. I saw instantly that not only was this ship not of human design, but it could not be made to land on a full-gravity planet by any stretch of human engineering. I knew that 1 had made a discovery of the utmost importance to humanity. What I had was maddeningly incomplete, and I wanted to try for more data, but Rule One is very specific on this question. Such data as I had, I sent out on subspace in case I shouldn't make it back, and I headed for home. That system requires an unusually great distance from the primary for the Whooppee drive to function, so I only made it back three months ago."
"Thank you, Mr. Ng," said Pierce. He turned to the Angel's people. "Before we proceed further, have you any questions to ask Mr. Ng?"
"You referred to that place as a 'colony,' " said Torwald. "Is it certain that it isn't their native planet?"
"Absolutely," Ng said. "We did a standard scan of the planet, we took atmosphere and water samplings with remotes, all the usual procedures. We found no other settlements, not that that means a lot. For all we know, they might live underground. But the air and water of that world are absolutely unpolluted. Whoever built that ship had a long history of industrial development before they ever got into space, and it would show in the air and water, even if they had progressed to clean industry and energy thousands of years ago. That planet is pristine."
" How far from that little port did the masking effect reach?" the skipper asked.
"Approximately six hundred kilometers," Ng said. "It is far more powerful than anything we have. They could be hiding a lot down there."
"If there are no further questions," Pierce said. "Thank you, Mr. Ng." The Satsurna captain bowed and left the room.
"Who's going on this expedition?" the skipper asked.
" The Council debated that point for a long time," Pierce said. "Yourselves, of course, for the reasons already specified. The naval contingent, headed by Grand Admiral Nagamitsu, will represent the military. The diplomatic mission, which I shall be heading, shall also travel in this vessel. The civilian sector shall be represented by a large scientific contingent, traveling in the Satsuma vessel alongside."
"1 was going to ask about that ship," said the skipper. "Why Satsuma?"
"The Council was, of course, anxious to maintain a complete separation of the military and civilian missions," Pierce said, "and also wished to impress upon the aliens our considerable technology, as well as our military might. The Satsuma Supernova, I'm sure you will agree, is the most spectacular of our civilian vessels, just as this TFCS is the most impressive in the navy."
"If they can make ships like the one we just saw, and land them on Earth-type planets," said Torwald, "they aren't likely to be impressed by anything we can show them."
"All levels of technological development needn't be equally advanced," said Pierce blandly. "They seem to have some kind of engineering new to us. They may well find our own space-going technology equally awesome."
"It will not have escaped your notice," Nagamitsu said, "that those people were using a masking device it is unlikely they would have dreamed up unless they've had experience of warfare. At some time in their history, posssibly recently, they've had good reason to mask their ships and facilities. We have to proceed as if warfare between our species were a possibility. They won't know that the TFCS is our largest and most powerful warship. If it doesn't strike them as all that impressive, we can always leave them with the speculation that maybe we have far more powerful vessels."
"Who's in command of the Supernova?" Ham asked casually.
"Ramon Izquierda." said Pierce. Kiril ignored Pierce and concentrated on Nagamitsu. His face revealed nothing, but something about him changed at mention of the name.
"The directors of Satsuma assured us that only Commander Izquierda could be entrusted with the Supernova," Nagamitsu said thinly. "It's still
largely experimental, and they wouldn't have anybody else. The Council seems not to have been inclined to dispute with them."
"I see, " said the skipper grimly. "Are we going to have to ride in your hold for the whole trip?"
"I'm afraid so," said Nagamitsu. "Sorry, but you wouldn't be able to keep up with us to the edge of the system. If you wish, you may travel independently afterwards."
"Just as long as we don't have to travel in Izquierda's ship," said the skipper. The admiral seemed about to snap out a sharp retort, but Pierce stepped in to smooth things over.
"This evening we will be having a formal dinner for the ship's officers and the higher-ranking scientists and diplomatic personnel. Your entire ship's company is, of course, invited. You are, after all. interplanetary celebrities. Everyone would be most disappointed if you weren't there."
"That's real democratic of you," said the skipper. "Sure, we'll be there. Wouldn't miss it for anything."
They took their leave and made their way back to the Angel, this time without the marine guard. Inside they held a council.
"Skipper," said Achmed, "do you really buy all this stuff about us being valuable in an advisory capacity?"
"Not for a minute," she said. "They don't need us for this expedition. What do we know about these aliens? I can see them wanting Homer. He might have encountered them before, and if not, he could learn their language faster than any human. But the rest of us?" She looked around the cabin at her crew and snorted. "We wouldn't have much advice to give, and they wouldn't take it if we had."
"It's got to be Izquierda," said Ham. "He's behind it, somehow."
"I don't think old Nagamitsu likes this business of Izquierda being along," said Torwald.
"He hates him," said Kiril. "He'd like to see him dead."
"Huh? Why do you say that?" asked the skipper.
"Wasn't it obvious?" said Kiril, surprised. "Couldn't you teli from his voice and face?"
John Maddox Roberts - Spacer: Window of Mind Page 4