by Bill Baldwin
Brim's eyes followed the ground scar where the cable had been laid. About a third of the way to the mountains, two dust plumes crawled along the endless wastes. The second plume was considerably behind the first, but from its size, it was either a much larger vehicle or it was moving faster — or both. “If that first one's our spy,” he said, pointing through the Hyperscreens, “he's going to have company very soon. Anybody see anything else moving?” he asked, easing the astroplane into a wide circle. .
“None,” Theada said as the ship returned to its original course.
“Just those two,” Ursis agreed.
“All right,” Brim said, “we'll go down for a closer look.” He rolled the astroplane on its back, then nosed over into a steep dive that brought them above the second vehicle in a matter of clicks. “Ugh,” he grunted aloud. Below was a typical Leaguer battle crawler with three turrets, the kind that ambushed his little convoy back on A'zurn, only this one looked bigger, even from the air. “Let's check on the other one,” he said, opening the power gates slightly. The distance evaporated.
“Open lorry,” Ursis observed.
“With yellow canisters,” Theada added.
“And an '8' on the roof of the cab,” Brim finished. “It's our man, I'll bet. Send: 'Which way is Avalon?'“ he called back to Barbousse.
Only a few clicks later, his display flashed, “VOOT'S BEARD! YOUR ASTROPLANE FOOLED ME. THOUGHT I WAS CAUGHT SURE. ALREADY GOT A BATTLE CRAWLER ON MY TAIL.” Only moments later, a huge column of dirt and flame shot up to the lorry's right as the battle crawler began to pull in range. The astroplane bounced when the second blast followed on its heels, aimed this time at them. “CAREFUL,” the BURST display spelled out. “POWERFUL BATTLE CRAWLER.”
“So much for our cover,” Brim muttered, hauling the astroplane around into a vertical bank toward the battle crawler and pulling off the lift vector. They fell like a stone toward the desert floor with both disruptors blasting wildly at the squat, ugly shape in the distance. Only a few irals from the ground, he whipped the little ship level and jammed on the power. All three Leaguer turrets were firing now. The astroplane bucked and bounced through the blasts; debris smashed off the Hyperscreens and rattled along the decks. Suddenly, a huge ball of fire from Barbousse's 91-mmi erupted at the foreward end of the battle crawler, sending a shower of rocks and debris hundreds of irals in the air. The big machine reared and skidded sideways in a cloud of dust, then resumed its progress at a somewhat reduced rate of speed, wobbling violently.
“Got his cable follower!” Barbousse yelled exultantly as they flashed overhead. But the battle crawler's turrets were clearly unaffected and the firing continued almost unabated. Brim snapped the astroplane around and set up another low-level firing run. This time, Barbousse found his target much earlier, and the whole area near the enemy vehicle exploded in a welter of powerful blasts.
Suddenly, a thundering detonation sent the astroplane skidding wildly off course with loose articles whistling about like shrapnel and the cabin acrid in swirling black smoke. A monstrous grinding shrieked through the starframe as the left outrigger touched down and skidded across the plain in a cloud of dust and debris. Brim struggled with the controls, helplessly watching the his astroplane slide into a ground loop — then the hull ricocheted from a flat outcropping of desert rock and somehow wobbled level, trailing a long column of dirty black smoke that thinned and disappeared as Ursis calmly manipulated the N-ray mains and extinguished the fires.
“Our ninety-one's gone, Lieutenant,” Barbousse yelled above the din. “Battle crawler blew the whole ventral turret away, he did.”
Brim continued to fight the controls, achieving first an even keel, then an immediate turn away from the battle crawler with a maximum acceleration dash toward a run of low, rocky hills, the generators bellowing angrily in overload.
“What are we going to do now?” Theada yelled in frustration as they pulled into the lee of the palisades and set up a low holding pattern. “Our little 6O-mmi won't even dent that armored cockroach, and the spy's still out there with nothing but a good head start.”
Brim bit his lip, concentrated. Quickly. Quickly. “The mines!” he shouted. “Of course! Even a near miss ought to be enough to take a battle crawler out for good. Right, Barbousse?”
Barbousse grinned. “One star mine coming up, Lieutenant,” he said.
“Wait a cycle!” Ursis interrupted suddenly. “The spy: Is he far enough from the blast zone? We don't want to take him out, too.”
“Easily far enough by now, Nik,” Theada answered. “Especially in this thin atmosphere. Remember, he was almost beyond the range of that battle crawler — and those big hummers shoot a long way.”
“Very well,” Brim said through clenched teeth. “Here we go.” Wind roared across the great rent in the bottom of their hull as he banked gently to let the speed build up. Then he cranked the little ship over into a dizzying vertical turn that barely cleared the barren hillside. Jagged rocks whizzed by only irals from their starboard generator. By the time the battle crawler was back in sight, they were accelerating wildly and blending into the background. They took the big machine completely by surprise — in the last clicks, Brim pictured its crew huddled over the traction controls in an attempt to drive with no cable followers.
“Star mine's... free!” Barbousse yelled. Brim heard the hum of the repulsion rings, then the astroplane flashed over the battle crawler, still accelerating. Two more near misses by the Leaguers sent rock and debris over their stern before the whole world turned a blinding white: No shadows, no details, only white. The Hyperscreens dimmed, flashed on again.
And then the shock wave…
Incredible noise. Perhaps no noise — maybe all noise. The impact became an entire existence. One moment, they were speeding across the desert floor, the next, a giant hand smashed the little ship sideways like an insect. Brim struggled with the controls, easing the hull this way and that, instinct alone guiding his hands and feet as he fought to soften the shocks to the starframe. Then they were tumbling mindlessly through a gigantic storm of pure flame. Outside on the deck, only hullmetal survived: Covers, attachment points, cables, all their accessories either burned or melted in long runnels along the deck. In the back of the control cabin, someone was screaming over the suit channel in the gagging, fright-choked voice of a wild animal. Brim glanced over his shoulder. It was Amherst, tears streaming from his cheeks, faceplate sprayed with spittle. Nothing could be done for him. He tried to ignore it.
Then, quickly as it came, the fire storm disappeared and they were once again flying in clear air. Amherst's insane screaming died to a series of wracked sobs, then faded to silence. “By Voot's meem-stained beard!” Ursis roared in glee. “It is possible we may yet survive in spite of our fearless Helmsman.” The control cabin erupted in laughter — but only for a moment.
“COMM channels are going full tilt,” Barbousse reported from aft. “I think the whole Universe is yapping at once. Maybe you'd better listen in, sir,” he suggested.
Brim nodded. “Take the controls,” he said to Theada, then brought up a COMM display. It took only moments to discover that every patrol craft in the vicinity was on its way at full speed. He squandered a few clicks to inspect the result of their mine. Most of the blast had gone upward, blowing out the top of the atmosphere. All that remained was a shallow, blackened crater perhaps a few thousand irals in diameter — that, and a still-rising pillar of dust and debris topped by a great roiling cloud with a curious wisp on its top.
“Looks like we stopped him,” Theada commented dryly.
Brim nodded solemnly. “Yeah,” he said, scanning the terrain. In the distance, he found the little wisp of dust again and smiled grimly to himself. “All right, Truculents,” he said, “let's go pick up our spy. We're going to have a lot of company in a very short time — and none of them will want to help us.”
Moments later, they were back over the lorry. “IF YOU'RE THROUGH PLAYING WITH T
HAT BATTLE CRAWLER, LET'S GO HOME,” the spy sent.
Brim laughed. “Tell him we'll do that,” he said to Barbousse as he eyed the cable right-of-way. It went straight as a die, all the way to the horizon. He nodded his head. “Send this as I say it,” he ordered. “ ‘Put the lorry on automatic. We must pick you up on the fly. Affirmative?'“
“YOU BET,” appeared almost instantly in the BURST display.
Brim turned to Amherst, who was now awake and keeping a frightened silence in the recliner. “Will you help, Lieutenant Amherst?” he asked.
“Help you Carescrian? On this insane mission?”
“You could help,” Brim said as he eased the ship over the speeding lorry.
“I shall help none of you!” Amherst hissed. “You are only doing this so you can show me in a poor light to my superiors.” In the corner of his eye, Brim watched the First Lieutenant fold his arms and close his eyes.
“Is no longer with us, Wilf Ansor,” Ursis growled.
Brim nodded. “Very well,” he said. “Nik, do you feel reasonably strong today?”
“Strong enough,” came the reply. “What is it I can do?”
“I need somebody out there by the boarding ladder to guide me when I bring this crate alongside the lorry — then lend a hand when our spy climbs on board. Feel up to that?”
“Unless spy is too fat for lifting, Wilf Ansor,” the Bear laughed. Brim heard him pull his helmet on.
“Just in case we do get a fat one,” Theada interrupted, “I think I'll join Nik out there, if that's all right with you, Wilf.”
“I welcome any assistance,” Ursis grunted.
“Go to it, Jubal,” Brim replied with a grin. Presently, the two appeared on E607's open utility deck, leaning into the wind and clipping their safety cords to eyelets built into the deck. Each had a coil of cushioned life-saving cable over his shoulder.
Then there was time for nothing but concentration. He made a final thrust adjustment, pulling above and to one side of the speeding lorry. His astroplane was nearly sixty irals in length and twenty wide; the spy's lorry little more than a third in any dimension. He made no attempt to delude himself concerning the difficulty of the job — this one would make barge piloting look easy! Starships weren't made for precision work at low speeds and navigational tolerances measured in irals. It would take only one sideswipe by his gravity pods and the whole trip would be wasted. He concentrated on the lorry, flying by instinct alone. “How are we doing out there, Nik?” he asked into the short-range COMM.
The Bear peered over the rail. “A little too far left, Wilf,” he said, “but just about right height.”
Gingerly, Brim nudged the controls to starboard.
“A couple irals closer yet,” the Bear said. “Tell spy to open door now, but still too far for jumping.”
“Send, 'Open your door,'“ Brim ordered Barbousse, then nudged the controls still further starboard.
“Watch!” Ursis said sharply, holding a warning hand aloft. “Is almost enough.”
This time, Brim willed the ship's change.
“Perfect,” Ursis declared. “Hold right there. Spy has got door open. I'm throwing him the end of this rope. Tell him to tie under shoulders.”
“Got it,” Brim said through clenched teeth, half afraid to move for fear of bumping the ship into disaster. “Send, 'Tie the cable securely under your arms,'“ he said to Barbousse. A moment later, Ursis lofted the coil.
“Missed!” the Bear growled in frustration.
“Proximity warning's beginning to flash, Lieutenant,” Barbousse called out. “We'll have company any cycle now.”
“Very well,” Brim acknowledged. But there was nothing he could do as he watched Ursis coil the cable for another try. It was now — or it was never for the spy. If he was going to escape from this planet, he would have to fly the ship out in the next few cycles. He could not sacrifice his crew for one spy.
Again, the Bear lofted his coil. Brim gritted his teeth. “Please don't miss,” he whispered to himself.
“Spy got it that time,” Ursis said, relief sounding clearly in his voice. “And is tying under his arms. Can you move just a little closer again, Wilt? We have drifted few irals.”
“Wilf!” Theada suddenly screeched. “Pull up. An overpass! Dead ahead!”
Brim looked up — even at their low ground speed, the bridge was only a few clicks distant. “Hang on to that rope, Nik!” he yelled, then, “Barbousse, tell him to jump, now!” After that, he had no more options. He waited approximately one more click, then bunted the ship over the bridge, flinging both Ursis and Theada to the limits of their safety cords as he zoomed over the top. He heard Ursis grunt from the shock.
“Don't lose him, Nik,” Theada whispered in a strangled voice as he fought to wrap the cable around himself. “I've got it now. You go pull him aboard!”
The spy — dressed in a nondescript Leaguer space suit — was now clinging desperately to the ship's rail with both hands and feet as Ursis arrived at his side. Less than a click later, the Bear hoisted him to safety, and all three struggled out of view toward the air lock.
Brim immediately hauled the little starship around on a low-altitude trajectory perpendicular to the cableway, watching the lorry speed away in the distance. Considerable time would elapse before someone discovered anything wrong with that, he thought — as if it mattered anymore! Every ship in the League seemed to be on its way to investigate the explosion of Barbousse's star mine.
Then his thoughts were abruptly shattered by Ursis' deep bass voice, which — normally placid in all circumstances — was strangely reduced to little more than an awed whisper.
“Princess Effer'wyck, Your Majesty,” the Bear stammered over the suit circuit. “W-What in the name of Great Mother Bear are you doing here?”
The name struck Brim like a thunderbolt. “Margot?” he called over his shoulder incredulously.
“Wilf?” a weak but unmistakable voice answered in surprise.
“Margot! Greta Universe!”
“Jubal,” Ursis growled, “perhaps you could take the controls while…”
“Oh… ah… yes. Right away, Nik,” Theada said as he raced for the right-hand Helmsman's seat.
Heartbeats later, Brim lifted the Leaguer space helmet to reveal a tumble of golden curls. Margot's face was streaked with dust and perspiration. “Universe,” he whispered again in amazement. “If I'd had any idea...”
She smiled — and frowned. “If I'd had any idea.” She shook her head. “I still can't believe it's you, Wilf.” She was silent for a moment as if she were gathering strength. “No sleep…” she said, “…four days. I'm all right. Need to rest though.”
“Wilf!” Theada called shakily from the helm. “I think we're going to need you up here right away at the controls. Company's arrived.”
“What's the best way out of here?” Brim asked, taking Margot's arms and looking into her tired eyes.
She thought a moment. “Zone 5 here isn't usually patrolled much during daylight.” She shrugged. “A few light picket ships. But there's talk about some crazy old cruiser. I tried to get some information about that, but I had to leave.”
“We've seen that one,” Brim assured her. “It's real.” Then he frowned. “Best bet's up, then?”
“Straight up, Wilf,” she said. “And keep on going right out into deep space. That's what I'd do, anyway.”
“Sounds good to me,” he said. “We'll try it.”
While Brim made his way forward to the helm, Barbousse swept Margot into a spare recliner beside the unconscious Amherst and helped reseal her helmet at the neck. “Just in case, Lieutenant Effer'wyck,” he said grimly as he took his place at the weapons console.
Brim turned in his seat and squinted through the aft Hyperscreens: As Theada warned, two flying objects were in pursuit, but still too distant for him to determine a type.
“What now?” the younger Helmsman asked.
As he took over the controls, Brim shook
his head and smiled. “We are going home, Jubal,” he said simply. “Right away.” With that, he set the generators to “EMERGENCY MILITARY” and pulled the powerful little astroplane into a vertical climb with Ursis working the power consoles in an orderly frenzy of movement.
The two ships following also pulled into a climb, but whatever their make, the astroplane handily outdistanced them, and they soon disappeared into the ground clutter below.
“Left those two nicely enough,” Theada commented.
“Too bad we couldn't outrun their KA'PPAs,” Brim said. “We'll have a welcoming committee waiting for us out there ahead. “
“I see them in the long-distance BAKEW already, Lieutenant,” Barbousse said calmly.
“As I am sure they have us in theirs,” Ursis growled.
Just then, the authentication key sounded, but this time with an ominous clanging like an alarm, which it was.
Brim shook his head. “That's it for the authentication system,” he warned. “The key's run out.”
“The battle crawler was onto us anyway,” Theada snorted just as space flashed violently in a rolling ball of pure energy that detonated just off the port beam.
“Authentication is now a very moot point,” Ursis rumbled. “Let us see how well that 6O-mmi projector forward works against this new enemy.”
“Look like four of those little N-81 picket ships Lieutenant Effer'wyck warned us about,” Barbousse reported. “ A lot thinner skinned than the battle crawler.”
Theada concentrated on the firing controls. Brim watched the turret index across the forward deck. Moments later, a stream of energy blazed from the disruptor, accompanied by a rumble that vibrated the deck. A flash in the far distance ahead blossomed into a glowing orange puffball, then subsided.
“Missed!” Theada fumed amid a welter of return fire that smashed at the astroplane’s thin hullmetal sides like rolling thunder. The ship bounced sharply as a jagged section of hullmetal railing was carried away with an ear-jarring crash and a cloud of sparkling radiation. “Sure wish Anastasia were here to run this thing.”