Knights Of The Black Earth

by Margaret Weis

  "I had reached the same conclusion. I have received information that this team was involved in secret dealings with Her Majesty the Queen on the woman's pagan, Goddessworshiping planet of Ceres. The Loti, Raoul, and the empath known as the Little One traveled to the planet on commercial transport. I obtained records of their entry. I am transmitting these to you now. Since we lost him at the Exile Caf6, these might be useful in tracking him down."

  The officer waited in silence for the files. The Knight Conunander continued talking.

  "It is quite probable that the Loft has a number of passports registered to him under various aliases. This time, as you see, he used his real name--if Raoul is his real name-and listed his planet of origin as Adonia. The Little One probably uses the same passport every time, since he has been granted 'mixed breed' status. Planet of origin is listed as 'unknown.'"

  "My guess is that these two were involved in the inexplicable illness and subsequent sudden disappearance of the wife of the President of Modena. Eyewitness accounts put the two at the reception during which Madame President fell ill. The two left before we could send a squad to capture the Loti, and at that point we lost them."

  "I do not think they will be difficult to track, sir," the officer replied. "The cyborg has several different dwelling places. We have posted men at all of them. We have also arranged for Raoul's home on Adonia to be kept under constant surveillance."

  "Excellent. We must be patient, however. Wait for them to split up. As you say, the cyborg Xris is a formidable foe. Not only that, he has friends in the highest places. We do not yet want to call undue attention to ourselves. Therefore, do not attempt to apprehend the Loti in the cyborg's presence. There will come a time when this Raoul and his small companion are alone. Strike then." "Yes, Knight Commander."

  "Contact me immediately when you have effected the Loti's capture. Any questions?"

  "Yes, sir. What are we to do with the creature known as the Little One?"

  "He is of no use to us. Kill him."

  CHAPTER 12

  In battle, confrontation is done directly, victory is gained by surprise,

  Sun Tzu, The Art of War

  Christy's Cracked Egg Restaurant was large, crowded---especially for this early in the morning. According to Xris's research, the all-you-can-eat breakfast buffet was extremely popular, attracting large numbers of people--ideal for Xris's purpose. When he entered, no one even glanced twice at the cyborg. Dressed in a business suit that covered his mechanical limbs, a sun visor hiding his cybernetic eye, and a foam-flesh and plastiskin cosmetic hand attached to his arm, Xris looked the part of an Aurigan executive.

  Having informed the 'bot who steered him to his table that there would be four joining him, Xris loaded his plate with the local fare and sat down to eat and wait.

  Tycho was next to arrive. The tall, skinny alien did attract a few curious stares, but the customers soon returned to their meals, having more interest in Aurigan mush---considered a delicacy. Located on one of the major trade routes, the capital city of Auriga was home to a large intergalactic population. Not much surprised the citizens of Auriga. Tycho located Xris, sat down.

  "Steer clear of the mush," Xris advised in a low voice.

  A vegetarian, Tycho gave the mush a look, grimaced, and told the 'bot he would be having only carrot juice.

  "Any trouble with the weapons?" Xris asked.

  It was not necessary to keep his voice down. A cheerful people, Aurigans enjoyed talking--the louder, the better. Consequently, the restaurant was a din of noise, with every Aurigan in the place shouting shrilly and gleefully at every other Aurigan. Xris had turned his hearing down to the bare minimum necessary and still the row was deafening.

  Tycho shook his head. His long-fingered hand could have wrapped twice around the glass of juice. He sipped at it. "No problems. I expected none. So long as I do not bring the rifle on board the spacecraft with me, I am rarely stopped. After all, it looks the same as any other beam rifle. I carry the duonamic sights hidden on my person in a shielded case."

  Xris nodded. Duonamic sights were the hallmark of the professional assassin and were illegal in most parts of the galaxy. With those sights, which detected any form of radiation from heat to light, as well as Doppler movement, Tycho could not only see through walls, he could shoot the person standing on the other side.

  "There won't be any need for gun play," Xris said. "It's going to go smooth. I'm feeling lucky. I'm due this."

  Tycho looked at him strangely. "It's well to be prepared. Better safe than sitting in your canoe without a paddle."

  Xris could feel another lecture coming on, wasn't in the mood; and so he didn't respond. He ate his mush more for the sake of putting food into his body than because he was hungry. He was too tense, too wired to be hungry. What he truly wanted was a twist, but smoking was forbidden in the dining establishment. He went back to the original subject.

  "Where did you leave the rifle?"

  "In the hovervan. Harry's parking it now. I met him and Quong outside. The Doc had to go powder his nose. They should both be here any minute." "They're here now."

  Standing in the entrance, partially blocking it with his large body, Harry was scanning the crowd. Tycho waved his long ann. Quong emerged from the bathroom and the two joined the rest of the team. Harry left immediately to fill his plate at the buffet table. Quong selected fruit and cereal. Returning to the table, he eyed Xris in concern. "Are you feeling well?"

  There were times, Xris decided, when having your own private medic was a distinct disadvantage. "Yeah, Doc, I'm fine."

  "You don't look it." Quong was blunt. "I'd like to run a systems analysis "

  "I said I'm fine. Just a little keyed up, that's all. Adrenaline pumping."

  Xris took out a twist. "I'm not going to smoke it," he informed the waiter 'bot, who had located and zeroed in on the forbidden object with the speed of a sublight torpedo.

  The 'bot continued to lurk about, obviously convinced that Xris was going to light up the moment its electronic eye was turned, and finally Xris gave up and put the twist away. The 'bot retreated and Harry came back with two plates.

  "Fried meat, fried potatoes, eggs. You're going to need a heart replacement before you're forty," Quong observed testily.

  "Sure, Doc." Harry was unperturbed. "Good thing I've got you around to take care of me."

  "Not when you abuse your system like that. Besides, of what use is a new heart if the arteries leading to it are clogged? I am fifty years old and in far better physical condition .... "

  The argument went on, as it did almost every time the two sat down for a meal together. The discussion about cholesterol levels flowed around Xris. He found it irritating, had to bite off a snide comment.

  Fortunately, Jamil had just entered. Xris waved to his friend, who was looking extraordinarily handsome in his expensive business suit. As he passed through the restaurant, several women, with typical Aurigan forthrightness, yelled at him to join them. Jamil smiled, made polite responses, and sat down beside Xris.

  "Breakfast?" Xris asked.

  "The food's not bad," Harry mumbled, his mouth full.

  "I've eaten already," Jamil answered, adding casually, "She makes a great omelette."

  Harry gulped, swallowed. "She? How the hell do you manage? You just got here last night!"

  "He keeps himself in excellent physical condition," Quong intoned. "Women appreciate that."

  "Fine, then." Xris interrupted what was likely to be either an argument about clogged arteries or a discussion of Jamil's sex life. "Harry, did you check in with Raoul and the Little One last night?"

  "Yeah." Harry nodded. "I met the Loti in the bar of the fancy hotel he's staying in. Olicien's putting them up in style."

  "Did Raoul manage to get a layout of the Olicien place?" Harry patted his suit pocket. "I've got the diagram here. Raoul paid them a visit yesterday. The bug people gave him a personal tour and took him to dinner. Adonian charm, you know. The
franchise is family-owned, small. This RFComSec contract is their biggest account and, since they've got the equipment to service space stations, they're eager to land others like it. Oh, and by the way" Harry winked--"as far as they're concerned, RFComSec is a Naval 'refitting and maintenance station.'"

  "That's what they've been told to say, obviously. Does Raoul think the Olicien people know the truth?"

  "Not a chance. Oh, they know it's a Naval base--"

  "All the people running around in uniforms would probably tip them off," Xris said dryly.

  Harry grinned. "Yeah. According to the Little One, no one at Olicien has the least suspicion that they're dealing with anything as big as a top-secret Naval base. Not even the personnel who go up there. The empath gave them the onceover. To them, the space station's nothing more than a floating body-repair shop."

  "What's the timetable?" Jamil asked, preparing to set his chronometer.

  "It's oh-eight-hundred now. We travel there, get ourselves into position by oh-nine-hundred, which is when you and Harry are supposed to meet Raoul at the Olicien HQ." Xris looked at Harry, who confirmed.

  "I went over that with Raoul last night. He says it's all fixed up. Jamil and I are high-level company executives. He's arranged for us to meet with their manager at oh-ninehundred."

  "Fine. The spaceplane with the exterminators on board leaves the Olicien grounds at ten hundred. The exterminators are scheduled to arrive at the space station at thirteen hundred."

  "Three hours?" Harry was impressed. "They must have hyperdrive."

  "They do," Xris said. "I took a look at the plane yesterday, spent some time chatting with one of the mechanics. Said I was looking for work. The plane--"

  "You short of credits, Xris?" Harry asked anxiously. "'Cause I'd be happy to loan you a few."

  Xris scratched his forehead. Harry was a good fighter, an excellent pilot, and the best hovercraft driver in the business. But, over the years, the big man had taken one too many stun-blasts to the head.

  "No, Harry." Xris was patient. "I'm not. But thanks anyway. We're dealing with your standard light-cargo spaceplane, with a few major exceptions. These include hyperspace capability and an XP-28 computer upgrade."

  "Compliments of the Royal Navy, no doubt. Your tax dollars at work, gentlemen," Tycho muttered through his translator.

  "The Olicien plane's crew never deviates from their time schedule," Xris continued, "so neither can we. They've got a thirty-minCe window to make their landing on the space station or the trip's scrubbed for the day, rescheduled. Security reasons, obviously. RFComSec wants the exterminators there when the place is quiet--which suits us fine." "I am all in favor of quiet," Quong agreed.

  "Raoul and the Litfie One join us at the Olicien plant at oh-nine-hundred. That gives Quong and Tycho and me an hour to hijack the plane, load all the equipment. Plenty of time, even if something goes wrong, which it won't."

  "He's feeling lucky," Tycho observed.

  Xris ignored him.

  "Meanwhile, Raoul and Harry and Jamil take over the Olicien facility. Will you need access codes for the spaceplane, Harry?"

  "With hyperspace drive and an XP-28, you can bet On it. The bug people won't want to chance anyone taking joyrides in that baby. XP-28--my favorite computer system." Harry rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "This is going to be a treat."

  "How long to secure the facility?" Xris looked at Jamil.

  "Ten minutes. Twenty if we have to search for code cards and reprogram them."

  "I'll give you thirty, just in case. Meet us at the plane at Oh-nine-thirty. How long do you figure preparation for takeoff, Harry?"

  "Not long. Most likely the course will already be laid into the computer. Ten minutes."

  "And we've got thirty. That gives us some breathing room. Everyone ready? Then let's move out."

  Xris motioned to the 'bot, who trundled up. The amount they owed flashed across its screen. Tycho entered the credit account number. The 'bot thanked them and hoped they had a wonderful day.

  "We intend to," Xris told it as they left.

  They climbed into the hovervan. Harry asked the computer for directions to Olicien Pest Control. A threedimensional map appeared on the screen. They drove off.

  Jamil studied the layout of the facility. Raoul had learned--under duress---how to draw a fairly clear diagram. But he found the task tedious in the extreme and Xris had never been able to break the Adonian of the habit of embellishing the mundane work with fanciful doodles. Jamil was forced to trace his route from the entrance to the manager's office through several large beetles; two eyes and a smiling mouth had been added to the O of "Olicien."

  Quong worked on Harry's "contraption"ma device meant to look like a souped-up bug killer, but which had other, far more interesting applications. Xxis removed his business suit, put on body armor which had been modified to free up his cybernetic arm and leg, detached the useless cosmetic hand. From a compartment built into the leg, the cyborg removed one of his weapons hands, attached it to the arm.

  Quong looked up from his work. "Which one is that?"

  "Small rocket launcher."

  The rockets were heat-guided. Xris's servoelectric 'eye processed the target's image and downloaded it to the rocket just before launch. The small rocket would zero in on its prey with unerring efficiency.

  "Heavy-duty for this job," Quong observed. "I trust I won't have to use it," Xris said quiefiy. Quong said something else, but Xris pretended he didn't hear. Once he was outfitted and had done a systems check, he took out a twist, moved over to sit next to the van's open window for a smoke. He also pretended not to see that the others had exchanged glances all around. They were wordedmnot about the job, but about him.

  Damn it, just let me alone! he told them silently. When this is finished, it'll all be okay. And this is going to finish it. I know it. I'm due. I'll be okay.

  He watched the smoke from the glowing twist whip out the window, watched the end of the twist bum red in the rushing wind.

  Quong finished work on Harry's bug "contraption," set it aside, and changed into body armor and fatigues. Tycho was wearing his armor beneath his civvies. A type developed specially by his people, the body armor was completely transparent, to accommodate his changes in skin coloration.

  Chameleons are not accustomed to wearing clothing, which interferes with their natural ability to blend in with their surroundings. They are not, therefore, shy or modest. It had taken the other team members a short time to get used to Tycho's transparent body armor. Now they no longer noticed. But the sight of the naked chameleon often came as a shock to other, more inhibited humanoids.

  Once everyone was dressed, they settled back into their seats. Tycho assembled his beam rifle. He and Quong discussed the current rise in Royal Treasury bonds and whether or not Tycho thought the rise would continue and Quong should invest now or wait. Janill checked his weapons and sang along in his rich baritone with the music from the local radio station. Harry enjoyed the drive. No one attempted to talk to Xris, although he could feel their anxious gazes slide over him, then slide quickly away. He smoked another twist.

  They left the central city, buzzed over the suburbs, and entered a large industrial park, which appeared to be trying to hide the fact that it was an industrial park by camouflaging itself with trees, pruned hedges, and a few placid ponds. The buildings housing the various businesses were indistinguishable from one another--long, low warehouses trying valiantly not to look like warehouses.

  A sign posted at the entrance to the park warned that space vehicles took off and landed on this site. Hovercraft were advised, for their own safety, to keep close to ground level and stay in the marked lanes.

  "AccoMing to the map, we're coming up on it, Xris," Harry reported, peering intently at the various signs adorned with various company logos.

  Xris left his seat in the rear of the van, came to sit beside Harry.

  "You can't miss it. The building's painted bright yellow
and there's a giant plastic bug on the front lawn. By the way, the spaceplane's painted the same color."

  Harry shook his head. "Hell of a thing to do to an XP-28. They're sensitive, you know."

  "I know." XJ'is was sympathetic. "You two can commiserate- over it."

  Harry slowed the van. The others stared with interest out the window.

  "Keep going," Xris advised. "The airstrip is another kilometer on ahead, at the end of this tarmac. You can see the hangar--"

  "It's hard to miss," Jamil said dryly.

  "I've seen some ugly shades of yellow, but that's the worst," Quong stated. "Don't you go turning color to match." He poked Tycho in the ribs.

  "I don't believe that would be possible." Tycho shuddered.

  The van flew along the marked route past the Olicien facility, heading for the hangar.

  "The takeoff site's about a kilometer from the hangar, which puts it two kilometers from the main building. The hangar sits between the building and the spaceplane, so there's not much chance that anyone happening to look out a window of the main Olicien building would see anything funny going on with their spaceplane. Just in case anyone did see us and took it into his head to report us to the local cops, Quong's going to disrupt their communications, both phone and ridnet."

  "Just as long as the Doc doesn't disrupt ours in the process," Jamil said. "Remember the Guaranty Fidelity Bank security job?"

  Quong stiffened. "That will not happen again, I assure you, Major Khizr! The device I have with me blocks microwave transmissions only. Our comms work on the VHF band. Therefore, Major "

  Xris was quick to intervene. When the doctor got formal, trouble loomed. "Look"--Xris pointed--"they've got the spaceplane out." The others could barely see the plane. Jamil produced binocs. Xris adjusted the lens in his cybernetic eye, brought the distant plane into sharp focus.

  "I can see four people from this angle. Here's where we leave the marked route, Harry. Take us to that low rise over there, the one that overlooks the tarmac."