She couldn't even get her throat to work for a reply, but she was proud that her knees stayed steady and she didn't faint. Then she forced herself to act calculating. That was what the man liked: calculation. "How will you pull it off?" she asked. "Why would HaLevy start a war?"
He smiled again. "Keeping your mind on business? I like that. Actually, that is part of your duties. You will testify how Captain HaLevy had been behaving erratically for months. You'll also have her secret diary, which will reveal that she was a raving xenophobe, appalled that humans were contemplating opening friendly relations with intelligent aliens. She was quite mad, of course."
"Nobody'll believe that!" Kiril protested. "That crew's the craziest combination of races and religions I've ever seen. She even has a pair of Vivers and an alien with her! How can you expect that story to stick?"
"Kiril, you have the basic material, but you lack experience of the world. You don't know how people behave in a state of wartime hysteria. They will believe anything. Besides, no matter how improbably, the irrefutable evidence shall be there."
"How is it I'm the only survivor?"
"I was wondering when it would occur to you to ask that. Come with me and I'll brief you as we go." He touched a control at his belt and a door slid open in a rear wall of the room. On the other side was a two-seat magnetic rail car. In spite of her predicament, she managed a wry smile, remembering that she had demanded to know whether the suite's door had a lock.
They climbed in and the car slid noiselessly through its access corridor. "My raiding party is about to mount its attack on Space Angel," Izquierda told her. "You are to go with it. There is little risk involved, since my men are heavily armed and the Space Angel's weaponry will be locked up in the captain's safe."
"How'll you do it? Isn't the Angel being watched by the TFCS?"
"As it happens, the Supernova is between your ship and the navy vessel, and shall remain so throughout the action. By the time we lose that alignment, the real Angel will be aboard this ship and my duplicate will be in its place. I have fail-safe backup systems, of course. Some personnel aboard the TFCS who are on my payroll will be feeding a recording into the appropriate screen aboard the TFCS. Even should the Angel move from behind this ship, it will not be seen. A similar recording is being observed on the bridge of this ship."
"If you're bringing the Angel aboard," Kiril said, "why am I going with the raiding party?"
"I've given orders that all aboard Space Angel are to be killed before the ship is brought in. I except Homer, of course. He is far too valuable, and him I shall keep. I like an unequivocal demonstration of loyalty, Kiril. You are going to kill Captain HaLevy yourself."
8
In the hold, vacuum-suited men were preparing a small craft, dwarfed by the bulk of the former Guardian Angel. The car lifted from its magnetic rail and drifted on repellors to the side of the little craft. One of the suited men walked to the car. He saluted Izquierda. "All ready, sir." He was dark-skinned and his hair was roached in a scalplock. Most of the others looked like him. Stubby slug guns and knives hung from their belts.
"Then carry on." Izquierda looked at Kiril. "You'll go with Captain Lang. He may need you to furnish him with information, but stay behind, out of the way until the ship is secured. He knows what you are to do."
"What would you have done," she asked, "if I'd turned you down?"
"Then you would be dead, and I would have implemented a backup plan. I have several. Now get aboard that raider. I shall see you again within the hour, if you perform your duties properly."
She got out of the car and walked stiff-spined to the little
raider. "Get in back," Lang said. She climbed in and walked past two men in shiny gray, jointed battle armor. Unlike the others, they gripped beam rifles. Three more sat behind them, in pressure suits with respirators dangling from their necks. She sat in a seat facing one of them.
The man facing her grinned viciously. "Hello, girlie. I just hope you give us some trouble. Old Carl'd still be alive if you hadn't cut him like that. We'd sure like to even things."
She leaned forward and put her face within an inch of his. "Yeah, well, I'm gonna be Mrs. Izquierda, so shut your yap and do your job."
He jerked back, fear on his face. "Yes, ma'am! Sorry."
Lang came back and draped a respirator over her head. "Put this on when we blast in. We may be making holes in that hull, and I doubt that that old hulk's self-sealer even works."
"How're you gonna get in?" Kiril asked. "They'll see you coming and they'll be ready."
"Not a chance. This baby's Satsuma's latest. It's got masking more advanced than anything ever used before. They'll never know we're coming until we're there. The director got her override codes from the navy, so we'll just open her AC hatch and drift right in. This baby's a raider's dream, and she's part of my pay for this job." Sure, Kiril thought, and the rest is the vacuum you'll all be eating as soon as you've finished Izquierda's dirty work. Lang went forward and took his pilot's seat. The lights went out in the hold as the massive hatch opened just wide enough to let the raider through.
Kiril studied her situation. Six big, tough, hardened men, two of them in armor. How could she deal with them? Well, the whole lot didn't scare her half as much as Izquierda. They were closing fast on Space Angel. Already she could make out the AC hatch they were going to use. It was where the atmosphere craft was stored, and it formed a secondary airlock that could be used in an emergency. She wanted, foolishly, to scream a warning to the ship.
Then the raider was drifting outside the lock and it was opening. The raider slid in beside the AC, the craft that had picked Kiril and Torwald up on Thoth. The outer hatch closed and the lock repressurized. The raiders pulled up their respirators, except for the armored men, who wore helmets. "Out!" Lang barked.
The raiding party rushed smoothly out of the craft and stood with weapons ready. Lang went to the inner hatch and worked its controls. It slid back and the three other men in pressure suits rushed past him. Lang turned to Kiril. "Where are the Vivers?"
She realized that he knew. He was testing her. "There's a storeroom aft of the hold. There's an access chamber between their room and the corridor."
Lang jerked his head and the two armored men trotted off. He glanced at his timer. "You just stand clear, kid. It'll be over in a few minutes."
She sidled up to Lang and, moving as swiftly and precisely as she ever had in her life, lifted the slug gun from his belt and spun away. "It's over now, clown! Call your goons off or I'll splatter you!"
Lang grinned. "Well, looks like you aren't a loyal troop of Izquierda's after all. I kind of suspected you weren't." He held up his right hand. A finger bore what looked like a steel ring. "That weapon's keyed to this ring, kid. Won't work without it."
Kiril jerked the trigger. Nothing happened. Lang took two swift steps and jerked the weapon from her grasp. He yanked her arm and slammed her into the side of the AC. Kiril heard a bone in her arm break an instant before a wave of nauseating pain burst over her. She slumped to the deck, fighting for consciousness.
One of the meres came into the lock, herding the skipper, Ham, Finn, and Nancy ahead of him. Seconds later another came in, shepherding Achmed and Lafayette. Right behind them was the third, holding Bert, Torwald, and Michelle at gunpoint. Torwald looked at Lang and managed a bit of his old smile. "Belisarians, just like I said. I didn't know there were any of you left. What happened, did hell get too crowded to let you in?"
Lang ignored him. "Where's the crab?"
"It's up on the bridge," one of the men said. "Just pulled everything in and closed up like a clam. I couldn't move it."
"You left that thing up on the bridge?" demanded Lang. "With the controls?"
"1 couldn't move it and hold this gun at the same time," the man protested. "It'll keep until we deliver the ship. It's just a big bug, anyway."
"Shall we go ahead and kill 'em?" asked another.
"Not till I know
our situation. Where's the Vivers?" He called into a throat mike: "Shock team report. Report, dammit!" There-was no answer. He glanced at his watch. "We're behind schedule. Listen, prisoners, we're all going to go check on my men who went after the Vivers. You people march ahead." He grabbed a fistful of Kiril's coverall and hauled her to her feet. "You, too. I don't leave anyone behind me."
"What did you do to her?" Michelle demanded. She supported Kiril from one side while Nancy took the other.
"She's suffering for being a fool. She had the greatest deal in the world and she threw it away to give you scum a break. Now march." They went into the corridor and headed towards the hold. A shuddering vibration went through the ship.
"What was that?" said the skipper, stopping. "What's wrong with my ship?"
"Nothing you're going to have to worry about," Lang said. "Now move."
The pain subsided a tiny bit, and Kiril assessed her damage. If she could just stay conscious for a few more minutes. She had only one thought: Thank God it was the left arm.
They came within a few feet of the converted storeroom. "Stop here," Lang ordered. He held his gun at the ready and pointed to Finn. "You. Go peek into that room and tell me what you see. No fast moves." Finn nodded and crossed to the door, which was slightly ajar. Very slowly, he stuck his head in. After a few seconds he withdrew it. His expression was distinctly shaken. "Where are my two men?" Lang said.
"Actually," Finn answered, "they're sort of all over in there. I hope you brought a mop."
Lang didn't change expression. "And the Vivers?"
"K'Stin's standing there with a heavy-duty beamer in each fist."
"There are supposed to be two Vivers," Lang said, his face a mask.
"B'Shant's probably taking a snooze," Torwald said. "Vivers don't get too upset over a pack of trash mercs, especially Belisarians."
With a snarl, Lang turned on Torwald, his finger tightening on the trigger.
"Wait, Lang," Kiril said. "We need to talk." She could barely speak above a whisper, but it was enough to distract Lang. She knew by that how desperate he was.
"I'm listening."
"Look, this thing has gone sour. You can't take this ship aboard the Supernova with a pair of beamer-armed Vivers aboard. They'll turn that tub into a junkheap in minutes." She staggered away from Michelle and walked up to Lang, her left forearm cradled in her right hand. "Look, Lang, give me a break. We can salvage this. Izquierda will listen to me. We'll say that my arm was hurt accidentally and somebody from the Supernova tipped the Angel about the raid. You cover for me and I'll cover for you. What do you say? I'm gonna be close to Izquierda, Lang. I can make it worth your while to help me out."
The mercenary gleam came into Lang's eyes. "Yeah, what're you gonna give me, little girl?"
She was close enough now. "This." Before the word was finished, her knife had gone in below his jaw. She had never used one to kill before, but she knew how it was done. She got it right the first time.
The mere who had spoken to Kiril aboard the raider reacted almost instantly, pulling down on the prisoners, but Finn's boot cracked into his chin just as Ham backhanded another mere onto a knife that Torwald had pulled from somewhere.
The last got olf a short burst, but it was cut off when four feet of Viver arm burst through the metal bulkhead next to him and the spiked fist hit him with the power of a pile driver. All four men crumpled to the deck at about the same time.
"That man continues to underestimate me," the skipper said. "Imagine it, sending a half-dozen garbage meres to take a free freighter." She raised her voice. "K'Stin, what's the situation in there?"
The huge Viver appeared at the hatch. Kiril blinked. He looked as if he had been painted red. "One of them managed to get off a shot before I killed him. I am sorry, Captain, 1 failed in my duty. A mere human, too. I shall be humiliated forever."
"You did fine," the skipper said. "Just be glad you've got forever to be humiliated in. Which direction did the shot go?"
"Toward the engine room," K'Stin said. The skipper looked at Achmed, and he hurried off, trailed by Lafayette.
Torwald looked into the access chamber and pulled his head out quickly. "K'Stin, that was just plain redundant."
"I do not often get to have fun in this ship," the Viver protested.
"How did you know where that man was standing?" Ham asked.
"Homer was observing from the bridge and told me where everyone was. My hearing did the rest."
Achmed came running back. "Skipper, we have a four-foot gash in number two thruster. Fuel is everywhere and it's getting hot in there. The Angel will start tearing herself apart soon. If we land now, before the thrusters get too far out of synch, we might have a chance. Or else we must abandon ship."
"Ham," the Skipper barked, "send out the distress signal."
"Don't do it," Kiril pleaded. "Izquierda has backup plans and he must have that covered. He'll blow us out of space. You've got to land now. He's gonna start a war And he's gonna blame you for it—that's what the duplicate ship is for. We have to get away now"
"Everybody back to the AC lock right now," the skipper said. She faced a comm plate. "That means you, too. Homer."
When Homer arrived, she laid it out for them. "I'm taking the Angel in. Maybe we can find a lake or something for a belly-landing. 1 don't recommend that the rest of you ride her down. Whatever happens," she pointed at the raider, "I want that piece of Satsuma trash off my ship. If the Angel augers in, she dies clean." She left them with their decisions.
"I am too old to go about adventuring," Bert said. "I stay with the Angel." He left as well.
"She will never land without me to nurse the engines," said Achmed, heading for the engine room.
Lafayette looked at Kiril for a moment. "Kiril," he said.
"however it turns out, I'll never forget what you did." Then he went to follow Achmed.
Ham looked at the two remaining men and nodded. Torwald picked Michelle up and tossed her into the raider. Finn did the same with Nancy. Gently, Ham helped Kiril into the little vessel. Then he waved and gave them his big grin. "I stick with Gert, as always." He left.
"Torwald, you idiot!" Michelle said, as she checked Kiril's pulse. "I can't pilot this thing and neither can Nancy. One of you will have to do it."
"Get in," Torwald said to Finn.
"It's got to be you, Tor, me lad," said Finn. "In case you didn't notice in all the excitement, I caught a ricochet from that mere's burst." He pointed to his thigh, where blood was seeping from a hole in his coverall. "You'll have to run when you reach ground; get away from this raider. Izquierda can probably trace it. I can't run."
Michelle tried to climb out, but Torwald shoved her back in. "Don't worry about him. It always takes more than one bullet to kill an Irishman. I swear, Finn, you'll find an excuse to get out of anything. All right." He climbed into the pilot's seat. "Button us up and close the hatches."
"Saint Patrick watch over you all," Finn said as he limped out. Within a minute the inner hatch was buttoned up and the outer one open.
"Hang on, folks," Torwald warned. "I've never handled one of these little babies, but what I lack in experience I make up for in enthusiasm." The raider shot out of the lock with teeth-jarring force.
"Why didn't Homer come along?" Kiril muttered, barely conscious. "And the Vivers?"
"K'Stin won't abandon B'Shant while he's helpless," Torwald said, "and Homer can survive a ship crash."
"There goes the Angel,'' Nancy said. Through a port they saw the glow as Space Angel's thrusters cut in, much brighter on the port side than on the starboard.
"That looks bad," Torwald muttered, "but if anybody can bring the old lady in, it's the skipper. Right now we've got our own problems. I wonder what the aliens will think of us coming in like this?" He chuckled. The man can laugh about anything, Kiril thought, groggily.
Torwald turned around in his seat. "Well, nobody's shooting at us yet. Hey, how about the way the kid saved our
hides? Kiril, that was the slickest—" But Kiril was unconscious.
"Kiril, wake up." She could barely hear the voice. Somebody had her by the chin and was shaking her head. Managing to pry her eyelids open, she could see Michelle's face hovering above her. Behind Michelle she could make out some green, shifting shapes, but didn't know what they were. Michelle looked in another direction. "She's coming around."
Another face swam into view. It was Torwald. "Kiril, how are you feeling?"
She thought about it for a while. There was a terrible, dull ache in her left arm and her stomach was churning. She felt feverish and just generally hurt all over. "Not too bad, I guess," she said.
"I'm afraid it's going to get a lot worse." Michelle said. "I'm going to have to set and splint this arm. That's why I had to bring you around. If you woke up while I was setting it, you'd probably go into shock."
"There was an aid kit on the raider," Torwald reported, "but no painkiller drugs. I figure the meres were using them for recreational purposes."
"Go ahead and set it," Kiril said. "I been hurt before." A lew seconds later another burst of pain put her under again. The next time she woke, she was much clearer-headed and the pain was at a manageable level. She looked around. She was lying under something big that sprouted a lot of fronds. She decided it was probably a tree. The ground she was lying on was bumpy and covered by some kind of soft growth. There were a great many odd smells in the air. All in all. it wasn't her cabin, but it beat waking up in Izquierda's ship. She risked raising her head. Nearby she could see the two women asleep on the ground. Torwald was sitting with his back against another tree, his head sunk on his chest. On his knee, his hand gripped a hand beamer. She wondered where he had found that, then decided it must have been in the raider.
Very carefully she shifted herself until she was sitting against the tree. She decided that if she could get a little food in her, she just might make it. Her surroundings were a new experience. She had never been in the open countryside before, at least that she had any memory of. There was a lot of noise: clickings, buzzings, chirps, and chatters. That made her a little apprehensive. There were animals out there, and they might be dangerous. She was glad that Torwald had found the beamer. At least she was alive. That had not been a likely prospect for some time now. And she wasn't alone. That made it even better. Things could be worse.
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