by Paul Barrett
“I don’t think you’re getting the big picture.” Hawk sat up and leaned his elbows on the desk. “There will be no cavalry coming to your rescue, no knights in shining armor, and no chance of your leaving this station alive if you don’t start answering my questions. We have complete control of your station and all of its facilities and have had control ever since you tried to take over my ship. Your transmissions never left the station.” Hawk paused a moment to let the Commander digest the new information.
“I don’t believe you,” the Commander said, although his voice revealed otherwise.
“If you had control, why didn’t you stop the shuttle from coming down to pick us up or shoot us down when we came back.”
“We had a temporary power failure,” the Commander answered, seemingly unwilling to face the truth. “Everything is back online now, and you are under arrest.”
Hawk shook his head. “Let me explain your options. We banish you and your crew to the planet’s surface and destroy the station, or we destroy the station. My patience is wearing thin.”
“I don’t believe you,” the commander leaned further back in his chair.
“You have a real fondness for that saying, don’t you? Fine.” Hawk stood. “Wolf, come in here, please.”
The door opened, and Wolf walked in. “Yes?”
Pointing at the commander, Hawk said, “Space him. I’m through playing around.” He stepped aside.
Wolf crossed the room in two quick steps and reached for the Commander.
With a squeak of fright, the Commander slid his chair back against the wall and reached for a dagger stashed in his boot.
Not missing his stride, Wolf kicked the desk. It slid across the floor and pinned the Commander against the wall. Reaching across the desk, Wolf backhanded the man’s outstretched arm and sent the knife flying across the room. With his other hand, he grabbed the Commander by the face and lifted him over the desk. Kicking and screaming, Motash frantically tried to free himself from Wolf’s powerful clutch. Wolf held him out at arm’s length and left the room.
“What’s that?” Waren said, standing and walking forward as they heard the screaming.
“At ease there, soldier.” Ashron pointed his gun at the man’s chest. “I’ll check for you as soon as you sit back down.”
Waren sat on the workbench beside one of the other members of the outpost’s crew. The seven of them had been sitting uncomfortably and grumbling ever since being forced into the small workroom by the Knights.
Ashron walked over to the doorway, cracked open the door, and peered out. Closing it after a brief glance, he turned to the others and said, “It looks like your commander is about to be spaced. Guess he didn’t answer Hawk’s questions correctly.”
“You can’t do that!” Waren said indignantly.
“I’m not,” Ashron informed him.
Waren turned to the others. “We’ve got to save Commander Motash! Let’s rush him!” He motioned his eyes at Ashron and moved his hands toward a steel rod that lay on a shelf.
“Screw that,” one of his comrades answered. Also indicating Ashron, he said, “That’s a Lorothian. An armed Lorothian. He could take us out without breaking a sweat.”
“Well, actually,” Ashron said, “nothing makes me sweat because I can’t.” He smiled, showing his teeth. “But the gist of your statement is most accurate.”
Waren stared at him briefly, seeming to debate the wisdom of attacking, and then studied his feet, muttering. His hand moved away from the pipe.
Still smiling, Ashron leaned back against the door.
“Put me down!” Motash screamed, the sound muffled by Wolf’s massive hand. Wolf stepped up next to the airlock and pushed a button on the wall. With a hiss of escaping air, the inner door opened. None too gently, Wolf tossed the Commander into the small room, where he slammed into the outer wall and slumped to the floor, stunned. Before he could recover and scramble out, Wolf had the door closed and locked.
The Commander, eyes teary and wide with panic, pounded at the airlock door. “Let me out.”
Wolf keyed in a sequence on the airlock panel. With a loud sucking sound, vacuum tubes began removing oxygen from the sealed room. Wolf wouldn’t have believed it possible, but the Commander’s eyes got even wider as he realized he only had about ten seconds to live.
“Please!” he screamed, his voice getting hoarse. “I’ll tell you everything. Do you hear me? Everything!” With one last feeble pound, he slumped back to the floor, utterly defeated.
At the last possible moment, Wolf canceled the exit sequence. The vacuums went silent, and the chamber refilled with air.
When the pressure had stabilized, Wolf opened the inner door, grabbed the still prone and gasping Commander, and dragged him back toward his office.
Ashron heard the dragging sound and glanced back out the door. “Good news,” he told the dispirited outpost crew. “A new high-pressure system moved in and made the climate favorable for discussion, ensuring continued life for your Commander.”
“What’s going to happen to us?” Waren asked.
“My guess is you’ll be exiled to the planet. I hope you can get used to cooking over a fire.”
Waren leaped at Ashron, a half-meter long pipe with a gear attached to one end in his hand.
Although the attack was sudden, it was not unexpected. Ashron was flattered that intimidation of his race had held them this long. As the pipe whistled down toward him, he fired and stepped out of the way. The pipe clattered to the ground with a loud noise. Waren’s eyes stared in wide-eyed surprise at the hole that had appeared in the space between his thumb and forefinger. Both fingers danced wildly as severed nerves tried to adjust to their new condition. Blood ran down his wrist, soaking into his uniform.
“That was a warning shot,” Ashron said calmly. “Anybody else?”
Waren, with the help of two of his comrades, sat back down, his eyes never leaving his hand.
Ashron pulled down a small first aid kit attached to the wall. “Here,” he tossed it to one of the men. The man opened the box and went to work on the injured hand.
“What was that?” Hawk’s voice said in Ashron’s ear.
“Nothing,” Ashron assured him. “Just the natives getting restless. Could we accelerate the process?”
“Wolf’s bringing in Commander Motash now and he appears ready to have a nice friendly chat.”
Hawk had taken up a seat behind the Commander’s desk and tapped at the keys on the in-desk computer as Wolf sat the still limp Commander in the chair facing Hawk. “You see, Wolf. The careful application of terror is also a form of communication.”
He eyed the Commander. “No wonder Ship couldn’t find anything. There’s nothing in here out of the ordinary. In fact, most of it is downright boring.” He turned off the computer. “How did you manage that?”
Commander Motash tried to speak. His throat and tongue moved; nothing came out. Hawk poured him a glass of water and handed it over. The Commander gulped it down with shaking hands.
“Calm down,” Hawk told him. “Do you have any records of what’s been going on?”
The Commander nodded. “Bottom right desk drawer,” he said, his raspy voice getting stronger.
Hawk reached down and pulled on the drawer. It didn’t budge. He looked back at Motash.
“Cubbyhole. Left side under the desk.”
Hawk felt the underside of the desk until his fingers found a small niche in the board. He pushed and a small panel dropped, spilling a tiny circuit card into his hand. He inserted the key into the drawer. There was a soft click, and the drawer slid open. He saw a bound notebook lying in the bottom of the drawer.
“Paper?” Hawk said, lifting the book from the drawer. Motash nodded. “Very clever.”
In a galaxy of electronic communication, paper was rare and, on some of the more arid worlds, unheard of except as rumors. It was seldom used for anything of importance since it was messy, prone to having things spilled on it
, and easily destroyed. Its one advantage was that no computer in the known universe could locate information written solely on it.
Hawk flipped through the pages, scanning the numbers. “You’ve made quite a little enterprise for yourself, haven’t you?” As he flipped through the pages, one name stood out above the rest. “So who is Seladyne Propulsion and what do they want with my ship?” Hawk asked, tossing the notebook onto the desk.
Commander Motash glanced briefly at the notebook. “I can’t help you with the ‘why’ because I don’t know, but I can tell you who. Seladyne Propulsion is a company that has been paying my crew and me to allow certain ships free passage on and off the planet, no questions asked. They also are the ones who set it up for you to be allowed on the planet with little or no fuss.”
“I suppose that little six thousand credit donation was your idea.”
“I didn’t want it to seem too easy. Anyway, we were supposed to let them know when you arrived at the station and then set you down at the ambush site. After that, we were to notify the home office that we had the ship. The rest you know.”
“I assume you weren’t supposed to just call them up and say you had the ship. What was the code?”
“Quite simple really. We were to tell them that Bill called and the package had arrived and was ready for pickup.”
“Bill?” Wolf asked.
“Makes sense,” Hawk said. “When was the last time you met someone named Bill? Was that it?”
“Yes.”
“Who was the message to be delivered to?” Hawk asked.
“The owner, Ms. Rianna Selan.”
“And where is this ‘home office’ located?”
“I don’t know. All of the currency has been transferred through different channels but with the same name. Not that I was going to do any tracing anyway.”
“Well, if you don’t know, where were you going to send the message?”
“Relay station Prometheus XJ5 with a destination code of Spinward 42-46-28 D.A.”
“Ship?”
“Checking it now, Captain.”
“Thanks. Do you have anything else you’d like to tell me?” he asked Motash. “Anything I need to know?”
Motash’s eyebrows gathered in thought for a moment. “I know it won’t matter for me but would it help my crew any if you knew they had no choice in the matter whatsoever.”
“How do you mean?” Hawk asked.
“We were given no choice. This wasn’t exactly a career move on my part, but to get the whole crew to go along, we were told that this station might fall to some ‘natural disaster.’”
“Like getting hit by a comet?” Hawk asked.
“With a plasma warhead,” Motash answered flatly.
“I see,” Hawk said. “I imagine families were also mentioned.”
“Only to one of the crew members. The rest were satisfied with the original threat. Again, I know it’s of no help; I wanted you to understand the situation. The money was part of the deal I negotiated for us so we could get something out of this other than death threats.”
“You realize they would have killed you anyway. An operation like this is too important to have witnesses.”
“We knew that all along. That’s why the money was put into trusts in our survivor’s names.”
Hawk heard no hope in the Commander’s tone. What the man had just told Hawk wasn’t some last minute fabrication or attempt at avoiding guilt. Hawk stared at him a long moment. “Look at me,” he said in a tone that would brook no resistance.
Commander Motash lifted his head, his black eyes lifeless as they locked with Hawk’s.
“Tell me one thing. What were they doing with all of that equipment?”
“I forbade any of my crew from going down to the planet. I didn’t want any of them to know what was going on and I didn’t want to know. I hoped the less we knew, the higher the probability of us leaving alive.”
Hawk studied him a moment longer and then smiled. “I believe you.”
“Good luck,” Hawk said, shaking Commander Motash’s hand.
The Commander stood in an open field with his crew gathered behind him. “You too. Whatever your mission is.”
Ashron leaned out the doorway and looked at the injured Waren. “Sorry about the hand. Business, you know. Let's go, Cap’n, we’re burning daylight.”
“Now remember, don’t wander off. Should we succeed, someone will be back to pick you up in a few years. Who knows, you might even grow to like the place.”
“Who knows?” The Commander smiled back as the door to the shuttle started to close. “It’s better than the alternative.”
“You all strapped in?” Ashron asked as Hawk sat down next to him.
Hawk didn’t answer as he buckled himself into the co-pilot’s chair. As the thrusters took hold, Hawk allowed himself one final glance at the eight men they left behind. Standing there with his men proudly in formation, the Commander looked up at the shuttle and saluted. Hawk saluted back, then turned to Ashron. “How long will it take you to set the charges?” he asked.
“Depends,” Ashron said. “Setting it to blow will take about half an hour. If you want it to look like an accident under intense investigation, then about two hours.”
“Go ahead and take the extra time. It’ll take us that long to pull any relevant information from the computer, find out what we can about Seladyne Propulsion, and set the quickest course to their headquarters.”
“Are you sure blowing up the station is absolutely necessary?”
“It is if we don’t want anyone coming to search for the Commander and his crew. Whoever is looking for us will try revenge unless he thinks they’re already dead.” Hawk cocked his head and arched an eyebrow. “Since when have you been squeamish about destroying something?”
“I realize we’re supposed to have carte blanche, but wiping out Council property seems to be pushing the boundaries a little.”
“If we make it out of this, you can let me worry about the Council. For now, just set the charges.”
“Okay. Do you have any idea why this company would want Ship?”
“Yes,” Hawk said guardedly.
“Why?”
“They want to recreate the past.”
They were quiet for a moment. Ashron, sensing a chance, said, “Does this have anything to do with those torture—” he stopped. Hawk’s eyes told him this still wasn’t the right time or place to pursue it. “Never mind.”
They made the short trip back to Ship in silence.
21
A Past Revealed
Hawk sat in his think tank and stared at nothing. A glass of tequila rested on a small tray next to a half-empty bottle; beads of condensation ran down both.
After watching the outpost station explode, they had set course for Jeran Seven, the planet that hosted Seladyne Propulsion’s home office. Feigning fatigue, Hawk had retired to his room and crawled into the whirlpool. Now that the action was over he had time to brood about what had transpired. He had been thinking and drinking in the lukewarm pool almost two hours. The alcohol, so good at dulling the pain, had no power this time.
“What’s wrong, Sean?” Ship asked.
“At some point, I’m going to have to explain my actions on the planet, and that means I’ll have to explain about you.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing. It’s just that…” Hawk paused, uncertain. “It’s painful. Do you really want them to know?”
“I’ve wanted them to know all along. It’s getting harder and harder to differentiate between ‘me’ and the ship that is me. ‘I’ need some interaction, and now would be as good a time as any to start.”
“Sara, I don’t know what you feel anymore,” Hawk looked up to the ceiling with a tear running down his cheek. “Do you feel anymore?”
“I have emotions, but it’s more difficult than it was. I have to remind myself at times that I’m supposed to feel a certain way.”
“Do you have to remind yourself about us?”
“Never. That feeling will always be there.”
Hawk rubbed his hands across his eyes. “Christ, Sara. This all started out as a game. Remember? A group of friends out for adventure and glory. We were immortal then. No one was supposed to get hurt, especially you.” He drained the glass and poured himself another shot.
“You’ve got to quit punishing yourself, Sean,” Sara said, her voice anguished. “You did all you could. You have to let go of the past.”
“Let go?” Hawk asked, incredulous. “How can I let go when every time I hear your voice it tells me how much I failed you?”
“You didn’t fail me. Because of you, I still exist.” Her voice lightened. “What more could a girl ask?”
Hawk squeezed his eyes shut as more tears flowed. “I want you back. I want to feel your touch again, look into your eyes, feel your breath on my cheek. I can barely remember the sound of your laugh,” he said quietly.
He threw his drink across the room; the glass shattered against the far wall. The small kenquala, sensing his distress, gathered around him and nudged, demanding his attention. He ignored them.
Hawk heard his cabin door open and waited for the knock at the inner door as he listened to Laura’s light tread across his room.
“Are you okay?” Laura asked after giving a soft tap. “I thought I heard something break.”
“I’m fine,” Hawk said in a flat voice.
“Are you sure? Can I get—”
“Just leave me alone!”
There was a pause, and then the shuffle of feet.
“You’ve hurt her feelings,” Sara said as the outer cabin door shut. “She really does care for you.”
“Not like you did.”
Softly, she said, “Yes, like I did. It will never be like it was, Sean. Never.”