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I turned the thin, reflective disc in my hands. The metallic circle appeared to be about the size of a one-credit coin blank waiting to be stamped with image, emblem, and date. But it was no slice of sandwiched silver waiting for an official decree which would declare it "legal tender." It was, I knew, deceptive in its superficial simplicity. As I had so frequently discovered -- for ill and well -- during the course of my life, what lay within an object determined its true worth.
With a suddenly aroused and uncharacteristic curiosity, I examined my face in the disc's mirrored surface. Brown eyes stared back at me from a lean, aging face framed by unkempt auburn hair. The left brow of my doppelganger rose. I had lost more weight than I had imagined. No more, though, I silently promised myself. I would soon change my luck for the better.
I had struggled for more than a month to get my hands on this computer implant...and a month on New Hell could be a very long time, indeed. I would not willing let this opportunity pass.
The subdued babble of other restaurant customers enclosed us in an invisible bubble of privacy. Slowly I shifted my gaze towards my tall "friend" across the table from me. Could I detect any evidence in his scaled, reptilian face that for once he was -- or was going to -- tell me the truth?
"So how much is this going to cost me?" I asked flatly.
"Only a minor service for my employers."
"Minor" service? For a device this rare? I smiled wryly but let the obvious distortion pass. To tolerate a dealer in illegal technologies like Ztan Znor, a large measure of cynical tolerance became a prime necessity. Despite having known me for most of our lives, Ztan seemed incapable of using any other style when dealing with me.
"All you must do to obtain this gem," he said silkily as he leaned over the table's edge, "is to retrieve a small probe which my employers have...lost."
"'Lost'?" That passed even my limits. I laughed. "Sorry, Ztan. I'm a crook, not a bloodhound." Pushing back my chair, I started to rise.
A cool, black palm darted to my wrist. For a moment I resisted the pressure of his grip. Then with feigned reluctance, I allowed myself to be reseated.
"No, no! Rhann! My friend!" he said, releasing his hold and sweeping his arms in an expansive gesture. His fingers had left white lines in the skin of my wrist. "We know where it is. But, uh..." Ztan slid his thin tongue nervously across his lips. I waited patiently for the punch line. "...it is located in an area with which my employers do not care to be associated, either directly or through a known contact of theirs such as myself."
Forcing a bored expression onto my face, I fingered the disc and pretended to consider his offer. It had been a long dry spell for me. I was nearly tapped, and many of my acquaintances here in New Hell did not appreciate delays in the payment of debts. If I did not take matters into my own hands very soon, I would most likely lose both Jana and STAR DIVER. If that happened, I would be lost. I did not relish the prospect of trying to start over again from scratch at my age. That resolution to my current problems I had no intention of accepting.
The key to a brighter future lay in my hand. A computer implant beckoned as a fantastically expensive -- and attractive -- payment for whatever services I would likely render Ztan and his employers. When the news of Ztan's deal had hit the darker streets of New Hell, I had had to out-maneuver more than one competitor to be the first to reach him. The implant would give me the edge I needed to float to the top again. After years of trying -- and, once, almost succeeding -- I wanted to escape the scum -- like Ztan -- with whom I was now forced to deal. I wanted to carve out an existence for myself where the question of my next meal did not occupy such a prominent place in my attention. The next few years might well be my last chance to do so before circumstances required that I settle for a life safe and secure...or one as safe and secure as could be obtained in the city and planet of my birth. Hard though the admission was, I had lost some of the quickness of which I had once boasted. In New Hell, slowing down -- either physically or mentally -- frequently equated to being dead.
I would do what I must to prevent that from happening. I would change the old ways I had endured for so long. Somehow. To appear overly anxious, though, in front of someone such as Ztan would topple the whole delicate structure of negotiation. For me, the only question left to be settled concerned the type of clinker Ztan was about to drop into my lap.
"Just where is this 'area' located?" I asked dryly. "And why are you and your...employers...so nervous about it?"
Ztan inhaled deeply and took the plunge. "The probe was forced by equipment failure to make a crash landing on Tanner's World."
"Ah!" I said in sudden enlightenment. "That's 'all' I have to do, right? Sneak onto a proscribed planet and bring back a Zeytallian probe from under the very noses of their rivals -- my own people." I held up the implant and favored Ztan with the best expression of contempt I could generate. "No wonder you're so generous. I'd never live to collect. Sorry, Ztan. No deal."
I skated the disc across the drink splattered table. Ztan captured it with a loud slap and glared over the top of his half-empty glass at me. For a moment I considered using the I-can't-waste-my-time-see-you-later ploy. Gauging from the expression on Ztan's face, though, I doubted it would work a second time. As he knew only too well, desperate thieves abounded on New Hell. Once, he had been a faceless member of that crowd, as well. Though none of the aspirants for this present assignment might match my level of skill and experience, they would pounce on even such a slim hope as this deal offered.
"Ah, Rhann Beytahl. I am truly sorry to hear that." I could tell by Ztan's tone of voice that he was about to make his final attempt at gaining my acceptance. "My employers would be so pleased to have your august services. I will find myself in an embarrassing situation, as well, if I must recant on all the accolades I've given you over the years."
As though grudgingly reconsidering his proposal, I frowned. I didn't give a space jockey's damn about his "embarrassment," even if such did result from my refusal. What little empathic ability Ztan might have possessed as a youth had been lost or locked away deep within him long ago. That did not mean he was adverse, however, to trying to use others' perspective-taking skills to his own advantage. Fortunately for me, in considering Ztan's overtures, I was immune. Still, I knew the time had come to put up or shut up. My bluff had been called.
Lifting his palm, Ztan slowly slid the disc towards me with the tip of his index finger. For a long moment, I stared down at its seemingly innocent surface. Despite my better judgment, I sighed. To cover that lapse, I picked up the disc and pretended to weigh its true value to me. Pursing my lips, I tapped the stained wooden top of the table with it, then looked up into Ztan's wide, green-pupilled eyes. Eager though I was to consummate this arrangement, I hadn't survived for nearly four decades on New Hell by being incautious. I wanted to get the details of the proposal straight.
"O.K., stop me if I've figured incorrectly here," I said. "First, I have to leave New Hell alone and unobserved with no help from or connection between you or your employers and myself. Then I have to reach Tanner's World, somehow avoid or incapacitate the automatic monitors there, land and retrieve the instrument package of that probe..." I paused. "Any hint as to what type of probe this is; what it was doing out there?"
Ztan spread his hands. "I am sorry, my friend. They did not confide even in me as to the nature of their studies."
I grunted noncommittally. No point would be served now in making an issue of my skepticism. "And after I rescue the probe?"
"You proceed to a coded locale for rendezvous with me on a Zeytallian ship. The probe will be transferred there. That computer," he said, pointing to the disc in my hand, "will simultaneously be handed to you for safekeeping. From there you will go to Sally's Home for a load of artwork as a cover story for your absence from New Hell. Back here you will 'sell' that artwork to me for your cash bonus. Then you go to Zeytal where the implant will be inserted. Finally, you will be given passage to Terra or some other world of your choosing. That's all there is to it," he finished smoothly.
"Mm-hmm." I hoisted my drink in my left hand and gulped down its orange-yellow dregs. "And we all live happily ever after," I murmured. Abruptly, I fixed my gaze on Ztan. "I want the implant done before I lift off."
"But, Rhann --!"
I held up a restraining hand. "It doesn't have to be activated until later. I'm sure you can encode a lock I can't break." I pressed a fingertip against the tabletop. "But I want the disc in my head where you can't 'mistakenly' lose it when I deliver the probe."
Ztan frowned. He was aware that there were others he could approach with this assignment, though none he would know as well as he knew me. He would also realize that none on New Hell was as talented as I. It all depended on just how crucial the time factor pressed in this instance and how important he and his people considered this probe.
It must have been very important.
"Oh, all right!" Ztan said with uncharacteristic irritation. "But you will still have to come to Zeytal to have the implant activated."
"Of course," I said agreeably. Of course, I didn't believe in such a thing as an unbreakable code. Ztan did not have to know that, however.
"Let's go to League headquarters, then," Ztan said. "We'll sign the contract there and arrange for the surgery. After that, you are on your own."
"Sounds good to me."
I smiled with genuine good humor and followed Ztan out into the actinic heat of a New Hell afternoon. I would have to call in a lot of favors to ready the STAR DIVER for flight on such short notice. It would be worth it, though. This deal would net me the cash to pay off my creditors and still leave enough for a new start on Terra.
For now, however, the implant would be my little secret. I wasn't sure what Jana would think of this new element intruding into our relationship. It might take a while to soften her up. Yet even if she became upset by the idea, there would not be much she could do when presented with a fait accompli.
All in all, things were going exactly as I had planned.
"How are you coming with those insertion parameters, Jana?" I shifted in my pilot's seat and cocked an ear towards the nearest speaker outlet of my ship's computer. I could feel the slight pressure of the implant shifting under my scalp. It rested there like an annoying thought on the edge of awareness, never occupying my full attention yet never comfortably hidden in the background, either. Absently I wondered how long it would be before its presence and negligible but noticeable weight became second-nature to me.
I didn't know. Worrying about it, though, would accomplish nothing. The future would arrive when it was good and ready. The present demanded action. Shifting my gaze, I scanned the status lights on the control board before me. In monotonous unconcern, they blinked through their expected rhythms. Everything seemed fine.
The silence stretched beyond a reasonable pause. I was about to repeat my request when Jana's voice echoed petulantly through the cabin. "If you would quit asking me that every two minutes, I'd have course and insertion data computed and correlated by now."
I knew I shouldn't be irritated at her attitude. After all, I was the one who had constructed the initial framework for her personality. Plus, her present self had largely grown to its current state as a result of how I had reacted to her responses to me. Still, irritated I was. I had long ago quit thinking of Jana as a machine. I interacted with her as though she were any person at the opposite end of a comm hook-up. Indeed, so naturally did I talk to her that I frequently asked myself just who had molded whom.
Pressing my lips together, I strove as best I could to bring my emotions into coherence with my intellect. I was not entirely successful. "One of these days I'm going to reprogram you to answer like a normal computer. There are times when your bad moods get in the way of what I want to get done. Besides, I don't need your company that badly."
"That is, of course, your perogative," she said stiffly.
I sat quietly for a moment awaiting the rest of it. It didn't come. When she wanted to, Jana could dip into a nearly infinite store of patience. I wish the same could be said for me. "And you know as well as I do," I said with as much reasonableness as I could muster, "that conversation with me doesn't affect your navigational sections in the least."
I knew as soon as I said it that I had gone too far. Even to me, my tone had sounded patronizing. Neither Jana nor I would willingly accept that kind of behavior. To remind me that such actions were unacceptable, Jana would remain in a metallic sulk for around five minutes. I realized she was justified in her response, but I found it damned inconvenient at the moment. I was always tense before an insertion. I had neither the time nor the inclination to fool with these little power games. To hell with her. I was not about to apologize in order to regain her vocal cooperation. She should have known better, anyway, than to push me when I was preoccupied with ship's business.
In a dour mood, I resumed my monitoring of the readouts and pondering of the eternally recurring question of whether or not I had made Jana a bit too much like my ideal woman. True, she often made life interesting, but there were times... With a disgusted "Ah!", I scrunched back into my chair to await insertion. I was angry at being angry. My essential uselessness -- and helplessness -- at this stage of the process did not make me feel any better. Only Jana could take us through now, and we both knew that.
Perhaps when I activated my implant, I would be able to make a few changes aboard the STAR DIVER...some changes for the better.
When only seconds later Jana broke through the background hum of my less-than-well-tuned spacecraft, I looked up in surprise. My time of "punishment" was far from over. Only rarely did she interrupt my contemplation of my sins against her.
"Medium-sized ship closing fast on a parallel course." Jana's contralto voice cut through the ambient noise in clipped, business-like tones. She was still irritated with me.
Or else something was wrong...
"How long to insertion, Jana?" I asked with forced calm. I was no longer just idly curious. If my hurried precautions -- or Ztan's -- on leaving New Hell had not been as meticulous as I had hoped, my unknown tag-a-long might prove to be most unwelcome company. A chill shivered through me. Had my blond friend outside Bendik's Hive been interested in more than simply settling financial accounts?
"Five minutes to insertion."
I nodded. "Any identification on our visitor?"
"No, but I think you should --"
Suddenly the STAR DIVER lurched sideways then ahead like an over-tanked space pilot. I yelped, sprawled headfirst into the control panel, and immediately discovered I was an abysmal failure at trying to prove I was tougher than steel.
"-- strap in."
I moaned at the pain in my neck and shoulder. Muscles and skin were not designed for such abuse. "Thanks a lot for the warning. So thoughtful of you." Fear finds expression in the oddest ways, sometimes.
"There's no time for sarcasm. We're under attack."
"What!" Awkwardly, I righted myself and scrambled into my chair, my aches and injuries drowned beneath a wave of adrenaline. Automatically, I pulled the safety webbing across my chest. My pursuer was obviously no over-zealous bill collector. This assault had to be connected with Ztan. Just what was it that the Zeytallian probe contained? And who seemed determined to forestall my possession of it by frying me, Jana, and the aging but still valuable (to me, anyway) STAR DIVER?
With more force than grace, Jana shifted thrust vectors to steer us clear of another volley. My ship jagged like a skitterish beast.
"Manner of weaponry?" I snapped. My sweaty palms hovered over the manual controls. It was a foolish conceit to think I could handle STAR DIVER faster than Jana, but the illusion of potential power helped steady my nerves.
"Class III-b particle projector."
Despite myself, I lifted a brow. "Hmm. Anyone able to finagle a Class III weapons system is no one I want to tangle with."
Jana completed my thoughts. "They doubtless possess one of my smarter sisters, as well. It has been nice working with you, Rhann."
She was probably right, but I was not about to surrender. Or meekly accept my fate.
"How much longer?" I asked. The prospect of your imminent death can do wonders for placing things in perspective. My thoughts blurred across the possibilities. There was only one way out that I could see. We didn't have much of a chance at escaping even then, but a slim chance was better than none.
"Two minutes, ten seconds. Rhann, these evasive maneuvers are disrupting my calculations. We may miss the plotted nexus by a significant error." That did not sound encouraging; though for Jana, "significant error" usually ran on the magnitude of one-tenth of a percentage point.
"Precision we have no time for. Just don't land us in the black hole when we exit." If that anonymous ship could be stalled just a --
"I shall endeavor to do my best."
"Hey, just because I --"
"Eighty seconds!" blared from the speakers.
I squelched my first impulsive response and settled, instead, for clenched fists.
"Give me a visual!"
Rainbow colored static cascaded across the screen. After a few seconds, that electronic cloud coalesced into an elongated, silvery triangle in a black velvet field. The resolution was not the best at this range, and the image shimmered as Jana diverted resources to the more immediate problem of determining our insertion point. Still, I could easily see that the ship was of an unfamiliar design, and -- no big surprise -- that the surface of the vessel was bare of required registration and identification markings.
The STAR DIVER bucked in violent protest as Jana reacted to a threat I could not see. The fact that I remained alive to register the event was evidence that once more Jana had chosen correctly. I was none too sure she would succeed again.
"How lon--"
"Thirty-five seconds to insertion!"
I said nothing further but continued to stare at that rapidly bloating image of potential destruction. They were moving -- and fast! Compared to that implacable metal beast, STAR DIVER limped along like a wallowing sand slug with no way to fight back or any hope of outrunning it in open space. One way or another, this encounter would be over before the minute hand on the ship's wall clock ticked into its next slot. Yet in a detached sort of way, I found the situation fascinating.
"Twenty seconds." Jana's voice tore me from my concentration. "I must be in free fall the last ten seconds, Rhann."
Jana had no need to say more. If the targeting computer of that shining renth zeroed in on us during those final moments, we would have no choice...and no chance. That vessel far outclassed the rickety STAR DIVER. Either we made the jump or we ended our glorious careers as a momentary nova of incandescent gas and ravaged metal, a manmade meteor plunging towards the boiling sun of New Hell.
"Twelve seconds... Ten seconds. In free fall."
My gaze bored into the screen, willing my faceless enemy to delay, to wait until we fluttered madly from between his grasping fingers. My own hands were rigid cages trapping the arms of my chair. Unforgiving sunlight glinted from the polished skin of the relentless predator revealed in the screen. Salty sweat trickled down the curve of my nose and onto my lips. I swallowed dryly.
"Eight seconds."
Who were those guys? What was their connection -- if, in fact, there was one -- with Ztan, Zeytal, and Tanner's World?
"Six seconds."
Was I -- or that probe -- that much of a threat to them...?
"Four seconds."
...Or did they just want that gem for themselves?
"Three... Two..."
A sapphire beam -- a computer-generated image to mark the path of our destroyer's weapon -- darted snake-like towards us one final time.
"...One!"
Instantly, the universe exploded in a coruscating shimmer of endlessly spinning shards. Violet and silver, black and gold. Tinkling embers of color that darted and died; which defied the eye as well as the mind.
But we had not exploded.
Trembling, I eased back into the pilot's chair. My clothes clung to me, soaked with perspiration...yet that was so much better than being drenched in blood, especially my own. My forehead throbbed nastily from the shock of transition. Absently I rubbed it. There was a lump there, but I paid it no heed.
We had made it.
Expelling a long breath, I stretched then winced as my unattended injuries reasserted themselves. "Cut it kind of close there, didn't you, Jana?"
"There were never any doubts in my mind," she said coolly. "I knew I would succeed."
"But you..." I had to admit that Jana excelled at pushing my buttons, but I let the protest die. In its place, an involuntary grin stole over my lips. I felt too happy and too relieved to let anything spoil my buoyant mood...even an arrogant computer with a conveniently short memory.
We would be in transit for the better part of a day, so I decided I would make good use of the enforced hiatus. A solid meal and a longish nap would leave me feeling refreshed and ready for the next phase of our journey.
The food was nothing fancy (poverty has a way of lowering your culinary threshold), but it was sufficient for me. Cold cuts and fresh bread for an impromptu sandwich, a variety of sliced fruits, a tall glass of juice, and a pre-packaged salad; not only was it all filling, but after deliverance from what seemed my inevitable demise, it held its own as a contender for one of the most delicious repasts of my life.
After eating, I undressed and eased myself into my narrow but serviceable bed. Jana still refused to talk to me, but for the present, that was fine with me. I was in no mood for conversation, anyway. I needed rest.
Unfortunately, my mind refused to abide by my body's wishes. After half an hour of trying to suppress my thoughts, to blank my awareness so I could fall asleep, I surrendered to my head and let my ideas run where they would.
The question which loomed largest, of course, was: what had I gotten myself into? The players in this particular contest came across as more than a little serious. If the situation grew much worse, I would not even survive to go to jail, let alone to collect my payment from Ztan and his employers. Briefly I toyed with the idea of simply cutting my losses and running. That appeared to be an attractive option for the short term, but the arm of the League reached a long way, and I had used up about all the credit I had -- monetary and otherwise. I had sought this assignment because I had grown tired of existing only in the range of the moment. I wanted to clean the slate and yet still have sufficient resources to last me the rest of my life. If I tried to skip out on Ztan, my creditors, and the League, I might have a few years of peace, but the time would come when I would lose not only Jana and STAR DIVER but me.
No. I was committed. I would have to see this affair through to whatever resolution lurked in those shadows which formed the future. At the very least, the trip promised to be an interesting one.
Too bad that sounded suspiciously like an ancient curse.
But so far, I had survived; no mean feat these days, it seemed. Ztan had paid the the League doctors to insert the implant. They had done their job. It was now time for me to do mine...
We popped into "normal" space near the targeted black hole on schedule and recalibrated our position. Jana had done a remarkable job considering the conditions under which she had been forced to work. The navigational error measured well within safety limits. Once she satisfied herself that she was again in control of the situation, she used the black hole to twist us the rest of the way to Tanner's World. I wondered when -- or if -- I would again meet my unknown friends. If they were interested in my goal, they must have known what I was after but not where it could be found. Otherwise they would simply retrieve the probe themselves. Unless there was some reason they did not want to be near Tanner's World any more than the Zeytallians did. Or perhaps...
I rubbed my brow. That headache was sneaking in for another assault.
After another, longer transition, we spun into space near the primary of Tanner's World. The sun was an F-type, hot enough to give us a tan if we stuck too close. I directed Jana to head us on an intercept with Tanner's verdant, tropical "paradise." It was a paradise, however, only if you liked temps of over forty degrees, sudden storms vicious enough to swat an unsuspecting ship from the sky, beasts that would just love to have you for lunch, and the rudiments of an intelligent species. That latter fact had led to the hands off! policy of the Terran authorities.
Beyond that, the small matter of the sentinel satellite had yet to be dealt with.
No problem.
In polar orbit, the satellite blanketed the planet's surface during each day with instruments designed to keep tabs on our dimmer brained cousins. It was also well equipped to detect any technological presence not authorized to be there. The power plant of the STAR DIVER would provide it a perfect "anamolous" target.
Satellites such as these also sported the latest in sub-space communicators to summon the cavalry should someone have the temerity to challenge the quarantine. Graced with "defensive" laser weaponry to ensure that the message got through, these watchdogs were best afforded a wide berth. Perhaps it was only prejudice on my part, but I could not quite see what would prevent such "defensive" firepower from crisping any rash interloper who failed to provide the proper codes or who refused to back off.
Still, depending upon the exact orbit of the satellite, there would be a span of time when it would be on the opposite side of the globe from the probe crash site. With some calculations of that orbit on Jana's part and with luck in activating the probe's beacon on the frequency Ztan had supplied, I would be able to slip in and glide out again before the satellite picked me up. By the time it had registered my presence in the system with the authorities, I would be well on my way to a rendezvous with the Zeytallian ship.
I hoped.
"How long before you'll be able to plot the orbit of that satellite?" I asked Jana.
"I estimate an hour of transit time will bring us within the range necessary to obtain a reasonably accurate fix."
"An hour?" That seemed excessive. I placed my glass of juice in its chair-arm slot.
"Yes," Jana said sharply. "An hour. If you would upgrade my sensor systems, I would not be half-blind and hard of hearing."
Jana had been carrying on with this bitchy routine for a bit too long. At times, such contention could add spice to our relationship and keep me on my toes. The amount I had had to endure since leaving New Hell, however, was wearing, not welcome. It had grown old, fast. Still, I could hardly argue with her on the issue of equipment. The years had taken their toll...on both of us. I rubbed my temple. "I know," I said quietly. "But it's going to change, Jana. After this job, we'll finally be in a position to do something about it."
Then Jana really surprised me. "Don't worry, Rhann," she said with uncharacteristic softness. "Together we'll succeed no matter what the obstacles are. Just...don't abandon me when you do move up."
I opened my mouth and then closed it. I hadn't told Jana about the implant, just the money. Was I only experiencing some unexpected pangs of guilt? Or did she know more than she was saying?
I had never heard her express such sentiments before. Despite all our wrangling and word battles -- integral parts of our relationship, I had to admit -- I would no more consider replacing her with a newer model than I would think of changing her basic self. In a very real sense, she formed part of me. I might expand and update her systems, but to abandon, tinker with, or terminate her would be tantamount to murder.
We were too used to each other to start from scratch again.
"No, I, uh... Of course not, Jana," I said lamely. "We'll stick together. Like always."
She said no more. I felt it best to let the matter float there, no matter how unstably it might be situated. Some things went better when left unsaid. (Or simply unfaced? a nasty part of me asked.)
When Jana finally announced that she had the satellite located and was moving the STAR DIVER into an indirect approach orbit, my nerves were tuning up into high gear. For this job, we would have to move fast. Jana estimated not much more than half an hour ground time. I wanted things to run smoothly.
We were just slicing through the outer veils of the atmosphere on our entering run -- the probe beacon flashing reassuringly on my Zeytallian receiver -- when a harsh voice shook the air of the cabin like a blaring siren.
"Danger! Danger! You are entering a proscribed planetary domain. Without the proper authorization code, appropriate action will be initiated against your vessel in one minute."
"Damn!" The urge to leap to my feet was compelling. Such an action seemed a bit unwise, however, considering the aroused, laser armed guard that was bearing down on us from above the small northern icecaps. The recently awakened Zeytallian probe I had been sent to retrieve still rested somewhere on the western limb of Tanner's World contentedly and mindlessly announcing its presence to anyone who cared to and was able to listen. I had no intention of abandoning that key to this whole puzzle. Not yet.
"What happened, Jana?" It took an effort of will to maintain the semblance of a civil tone. The entity I had relied upon for so many years to guide me and my ship through the hazards of life and space had committed too many odd slip-ups of late. The trust which had come so automatically to me was rapidly being eroded by this rash of inexplicable errors.
"I made a mistake in estimating the parameters. All right?"
I strangled my response to that. Luckily, Jana was not a woman of flesh and blood or I might have strangled her, instead. Frustration sizzled through my teeth in a jet of expelled air.
"You have fifteen seconds to veer off or you will be fired upon!" Again that flat, passionless voice jangled through my already swirling thoughts. I needed time to think, and there was none to be had.
"Shall I head out, Rhann?" Jana asked quietly.
For a paralyzed instant, my hand hovered in the air before me as though frozen in the act of clutching at ghostly possibilities. What to do? Turn tail and watch my hopes for a real future evaporate? Or stay and watch me evaporate? Giving vent to an inarticulate yell, I pounded my fist onto the padded arm of the chair. Heart-sickening images of New Hell and eternal poverty, of scrimping and haggling over bones among the cackling jackals -- others, like me, trapped in nets of their own weaving -- warred against pictures of Ztan and the computer implant, of comparative wealth and the vision of a new life of respect and ease on Terra.
"No, damn it! I won't slide back again. Take this ship down, Jana!"
"But, Rhann --"
"Now!"
Savagely, I stabbed at the radio switch.
A moment passed as I readied myself for my performance. It didn't require much acting, however, to summon up the proper note of panic. "Private cruiser STAR DIVER calling sentinel satellite. Urgent. Mayday. Mayday. We are suffering engine damage and guidance system deterioration. We are making an emergency landing under Space Code number, uh, number...whatever it is. Mayday. Mayday. Don't fire!"
Leaning forward, I gripped the cool metal edge of the console with both hands and waited for the review of my modest drama. My pulse beat with preternatural loudness in my ears.
With no concern for my nerves, the seconds ticked by in suspenseful silence.
When the speaker -- and not an attacking laser -- crackled to life, I smiled triumphantly. My play would survive opening night. That was all I asked. It needn't be a long run; just a successful one.
"Roger, STAR DIVER. Radar will follow you down to the surface. Terran rescue forces are being alerted. Estimated time of arrival: six hours."
"Acknowledged." My arm shook ever so slightly as I wiped the sheen of sweat from my brow. I thumbed the switch to cut off transmission and sagged back into the chair cushion.
"Rhann, I'm sor--"
"Just take us down," I said frigidly. Even if conditions had been less than ideal for Jana's measurements, I was in no mood to listen to unconvincing excuses or contrite apologies. I needed Jana to support me when the game teetered on the line, not to second-guess my decisions. No matter how well-meaning she might be in offering her advice, there could be no room for doubt that aboard the STAR DIVER I was in ultimate command. I would accept no alternative.
Like a mammoth bird gliding on the vagaries of the wind, STAR DIVER drifted down through a high layer of red-flecked, billowing gray clouds. Without side comment or the usual technical updates, Jana headed us at a leisurely pace towards the morning terminator and a rendezvous with the Zeytallian probe that was the cause of all this commotion.
"Give me manual control at five hundred meters," I said stonily. With detached, professional interest, I watched as the relevant figures flickered rapidly across the monitors. A glance at the viewscreen revealed a forest roof of pale, yellow-green extending serenely in all directions. The innocent seeming sun hovered perhaps fifteen degrees above the eastern horizon when Jana switched control of the STAR DIVER over to my hands.
The compact, Zeytallian receiver which I had mounted on the control panel indicated an azimuth of sixty degrees and a distance of three kilometers from our present position as the location of the probe. With less than masterful finesse (I hadn't had much opportunity of late to hone my piloting skills), I banked the ship in a wide curve which skimmed the bushy tops of the alien landscape and brought us in line with our destination.
As we passed an ambling, shallow-appearing stream studded with water smoothed stones, I caught a glimpse of a small clearing ahead that was still hidden -- or better yet, still sheltered -- in early morning shadows. Blackened, ragged stumps and gaunt boles devoid of leaves marked the site where the probe had crashed to earth. Twisted wreckage lay strewn in a haphazard path which ended in the main structure of the vessel. Like some alien sculpture incongruous amidst the riot of nature, the distorted, fire-scorched metal crouched half buried in the furrow of brown soil it had scoured from the turf. Even diminished as it was, the remnant looked big. I estimated it had been close to twenty meters long before the crash. As I gingerly brought the STAR DIVER in closer, I wondered what manner of instrument would require such a huge carrier.
Relenting from my ostracism of Jana, I said, "Looks like a tight fit." When she did not deign to reply, I gave a mental shrug. I would deal with her later. After all, we had had our differences of opinion before. Admittedly, rarely had they seemed so serious or based upon such fundamentals as was this tiff, but I remained confident we could work out some kind of satisfactory resolution. Once the distractions of this assignment vanished, I'd be able to concentrate more fully on the issues which seemed to be dividing us. Until then, they would simply have to be given a lower priority.
Delicately, I placed the STAR DIVER at one edge of the burned-out clearing, well away from the wreckage. With an arthritic shudder and an unpleasant creaking, the ship settled down in exhausted relief onto the virginal planet known as Tanner's World.
Patting the console with nostalgic affection, I rose from my chair. "When this is over, dear STAR DIVER, I'm going to treat you to a complete overhaul."
Since I had already read the survey reports on Tanner's World which Ztan had given me, I did not bother with slipping on my aging atmospheric suit. The air outside possessed a few percentage points less of oxygen than I was accustomed to, but for the few minutes I would be outdoors, I would be O.K.
Taking a tool belt from the utility locker, I strapped it around my waist and then shook myself limber. The moment of truth had arrived. After all we had been through, I approached the door more than ready to exit and make an end to this phase of the operation.
"Open the lock, please, Jana." Slowly the inner door slid into the hull of the ship. "Keep an eye on the sentinel. I want to lift off this rock as soon as that pest is on the other side of the planet. I don't want it firing at us as we head in-system." With grudging effort, the outer door disappeared into its slot. "Jana?" I asked with just a hint of asperity.
"Copy," she answered tersely.
More than mildly irked, I shook my head. "Have it your way," I muttered, heading through the lock.
Moving slowly until I had a better feel for the gravity of this place, I climbed down the ladder and onto a patch of scrawny, yellow grass-like growth that was hesitantly beginning to conceal the scarred ground around me. The early morning air hung heavy with humidity and a hint of the heat the day would bring. Tinglings of strange, fecund smells and echoes of unidentifiable screeches and twitterings nipped at the edge of my consciousness. Still, I found the relatively cool, unfamiliar fingers of the breeze whispering through my hair a refreshing change from the cramped, stale quarters of the ship.
The brightening, cloud flecked sky overhead held a green tinge which I took as a warning to be about my business. This was not a time for sightseeing, despite the considerable contrasts between this world and the one of my birth. The first rays of the sun had begun to bathe the top of the STAR DIVER in a lustrous glow. I knew the temperature would soon begin its upward climb to nearly forty degrees.
Shoving aside all concerns but the one for my goal, I hurried at a trot towards the wreckage.
According to Ztan's information, the heart of the probe which contained the collected data I was to deliver was well protected from shock and fire in an inner compartment. I quickly realized that that very security made reaching the core no easy task.
After banging and prying away jagged shards of metal for fifteen minutes, I paused to mop my face with the rumpled blue bandana I had shoved into my rear pants pocket. More from exasperation than exertion, I cursed the blood which streaked my arms despite my shirt and gloves. For good measure, I also cursed Ztan, this planet, Jana, and most of the intelligent species of the known universe. The sound of my voice chased the echoes of my hammering as they reluctantly faded into the all-encompassing forest. The line of sunlight that had seemed so distant drew inexorably towards me. I did not relish the prospect of engaging in heavy manual labor while those relentless rays bored into my back and skull. Dreading it, however, would not get the job done. With renewed energy, I tore into the metal maze which stood between me and my prize.
Another ten minutes crawled by before I held in my shaky hands the thirty centimeter cube that would be my ticket off New Hell and onto Terra.
Extricating myself from the gutted bowels of the vessel, I reattached my tools to their hooks and picked up my precious burden. The grin I felt stretching my lips was anything but feigned. So close! Freedom from want: after a lifetime of questing after that illusive state, I could almost taste it.
The joy which animated my steps froze in my middle, however, when I saw what shuffled with suspicious caution into the clearing -- between me and the STAR DIVER.
The brown skinned creature stood erect and was nearly two meters tall. A heavily muscled, lightly furred tail extended nearly half that length behind it. Its powerful looking hind legs were mismatched by a pair of relatively short forearms. In one of its six-fingered, clawed hands, it held a short shaft of wood honed to a crude but wicked looking point.
It seemed I had stumbled onto one of the reasons this planet had been ruled verboten.
Even more significantly, that reason seemed to have discovered me.
Attracted, I supposed, by the noise of my handiwork, this singular example of primitive intelligence appeared intent upon one thing. At least the short, needle-pointed teeth it revealed in its long-snouted face when it growled at me indicated a definite interest in the thin flesh which covered my bones.
With the confidence of one who resided at the top of its food chain, the animal (?) came loping towards me with its tail outstretched for balance. As it proceeded at an unhurried pace, it extended curved, dagger-like talons from the center toe of each foot. The talons seemed well designed for slashing open the belly of any hapless prey which fell into those grasping hands.
I was no in mood to adequately appreciate that elegance. More than thirty meters of unsheltered ground separated me from the open airlock. With that creature between me and it, however, and me with no weapon beyond the tool set at my belt, the distance might as well have been thirty parsecs.
Keeping my gaze upon my uninvited guest, I bent at the knees and placed my treasure on the ravaged ground beneath an overhang of metal. I needed time to plot my best course of action.
Unfortunately, that commodity was -- as was usual of late -- in short supply.
As it leaped towards me, a hoarse yell tore from the alien's throat. There was barely enough time for me to dive to the right.
The beast moved fast. Though its down-thrusting spear stabbed harmlessly into the air at my side, one of its razor-edged talons ripped through the damp fabric of my shirt. The furrow which it left in my back burned fire. A flood of sticky warmth welled from that channel and flowed across my clammy skin.
With pain-blurred vision, I scrambled unsteadily to my feet. Staggering, I cast about for a suitable weapon. In desperation, I grabbed the handle of my hammer. That tool seemed pitifully inadequate, however, against the hungry jaws which confronted me.
With mind-boggling agility, my attacker came to a halt and spun about in a cloud of dust. To my left, I spied a twisted fragment of the Zeytallian probe. Swallowing my fear, I ran towards the off-world artifact and seized a protruding rib of metal. Pounding desperately at its base, I briefly slid my gaze towards the creature. It was preparing for another charge.
Spraying pellets of dirt into the early morning air, the unwinded beast thundered towards me. Sweat trickled, stinging, into my eyes and streamed down my arms. Frantically I worked the length of metal I had selected back and forth. The sound of pounding feet swelled behind me.
Abruptly the sound stopped, and I knew the animal had sprung. As it did, the steel in my hands parted with a snap that sent me sprawling backwards onto the earth.
That fall was all that saved me.
The tip of the wooden spear splintered in the flesh along my ribs rather than in the muscles of my heart. The talon destined for my stomach never reached its target.
A wild scream of agony threatened to shatter me with its intensity. My makeshift spear had torn viciously into the tan belly of the being who sought my death. Dark, purplish blood spattered across my chest, mingling with my own. Dazed, the beast stumbled away from me, faltered, and then fell to its knees.
Grimacing, I pulled the largest wooden fragments from my wound and then rolled onto my hands and knees. Panting like some animal myself, I stared at my enemy. With valiant single-mindedness, it attempted to struggle to its feet despite the metal spike which protruded from its middle like some grotesque arrow in a target.
I wanted to hate it for what it was trying to do to me, for almost destroying everything I had worked so long and so hard to achieve. I wanted to...but I couldn't. This creature was not acting out of malice or greed. It had not yet progressed far enough along the path to manhood to make such motives possible, anymore than it knew of honor or trust or love.
With a strangled, gurgling roar, the hunter regained its feet. For a long moment, it stood there, weaving, wobbling. A primitive, bloodthirsty majesty lit its wide, gray eyes as it stared unblinkingly, challengingly into my own. It managed one final step towards the animal it had marked as its prey, and then it collapsed in the damp circle of its own blood.
For one of us, it was over.
How much time passed before I roused myself, I did not know. Sight of the probe core nestled under its sanctuary brought me to a semblance of life again.
My stomach churned from pain and tension and the mounting heat. Listlessly, I gathered the metal cube into my leaden arms and teetered zombie-like towards the STAR DIVER. No sight ever came as welcome to me as that cool, sheltered interior.
With less care than I should have shown but with more than I felt, I tossed the probe core into a stowage net and then melted into my seat. I was exhausted, and I hurt. Badly.
"Take me out of here, Jana," I murmured, closing my eyes. "Let's go home."
"Of course, Rhann," I heard her say softly. "Of course."
I remembered nothing more for awhile.
When my eyes once again fluttered open, I expelled a long breath and let my thoughts float for a delicious, timeless instant in the knowledge that I remained alive and possessed of a future I could care about. The luxury of such an indulgence was a short-lived one, however. Anticipation of what else might await me crowded to the fore. Quickly, I sat up, an action I instantly regretted.
With a grunt of discomfort elicited by stiff muscles and sore flesh, I readjusted my position. Slowly I rubbed the grit from my eyes.
"What's our status, Jana?" I asked.
"We're heading for the primary. Insertion in half an hour."
I rolled my tongue along the inside curve of my teeth. "And the sentinel?"
"We were out of effective laser range when it discovered we were no longer on Tanner's World. When I refused to answer its query, it said notification would be made to Terran authorities of our violation. We seem to be in trouble."
"Why didn't you wake me? I could have --" I bit off the rest of my protest. "Sorry, Jana. I... Sorry." I had to think, not spout off. We could be in a real fix if those enforcement boys caught up with me before I lost myself on Terra. I had to come up with something. And soon.
At a loss for how to deal with yet another problem, I slid my gaze around the cabin. It came to rest on the nexus of all my headaches; the focal point for all the forces which seemed determined to make my existence as complicated as possible: the Zeytallian probe.
I grinned with renewed determination.
"You up to a bit of heavy-duty analysis, Jana?" I asked. A bubble of defiance grew within me. That almost belligerent rebellion roiled against circumstances that were closing amorphous tendrils too tightly around me. I refused to take anyone or anything on faith any longer. I would not work blind. It was time I discovered just exactly what precious information resided inside that probe's interior.
"Of course, Rhann. What do you have in mind?"
"If we get hauled in, I mean to have a bargaining chip. You are going to provide it for me. How's that sound?"
"Anything I can do to help you, Rhann, I will."
"Great." That sounded like the old Jana talking. Here was the kind of camaraderie which had seen me through more than one peccadillo. "As soon as we insert, I'll hook you into the terminal leads on this cube. I don't need a technical readout. Just break the access code so we can uncover the directive this hunk of metal was set to follow. Can do?"
"Can do!"
I rejoiced at hearing Jana's enthusiasm for the project. It helped me feel better about it, as well.
Once insertion had been made towards rendezvous with the Zeytallian ship, I connected Jana into the probe core. It took a bit of trial and error before she could detect a readable signal, but working together we patched together a system which seemed to do the job. As she slugged away at that task, I busied myself with cleaning my wounds and my body and filling the hollow pit in my stomach with food. I felt too pumped up to rest. I had to keep busy. My future -- our future -- was on the line.
"Rhann?"
"Yes?" I could hear the tension in my voice. I hoped Jana would realize that it was not directed at her. We were coming up close on rendezvous.
"I have a preliminary readout on that program. Would you like it now?"
I tapped a quick rhythm on the chair arm. "Yeah. But just a general overview. I'm a crook, not a --"
" -- a scientist. I know."
"All right, all right," I said, grinning. "Just give."
"In a nutshell, it seems the Zeytallian probe was testing a technique for exploding blackholes."
This time I did shoot to my feet. "Are you kidding? They can't --"
"Calm down. I'm just reporting what's there. Besides, its a bit more complex than that."
"Well... " Reluctantly I resumed my seat. "I would hope so. This had better be good."
"It is. To be precise, the black hole itself does not explode."
"That's reassuring."
For once, Jana ignored the sarcasm. "The Zeytallians have perfected a technique utilizing rotating black holes. Such black holes possess two event horizons as opposed to one."
"So?" Rotating or not, what could be done to a black hole?
"The Zeytallians surround the anomaly with an energy reflective sphere," Jana said. "It is a magnitude expansion and refinement of those more primitive force shields used by all present interstellar craft." I lifted a brow. A new kind of force shield. That information alone would be worth quite a bit to the Terrans.
Jana continued. "When they send a wave of generated energy into the area between the two horizons -- the ergosphere -- and do so in the proper manner, the wave is diffracted in such a way that part is sent down the hole and the rest is sent out highly amplified, gaining energy from the rotating hole."
I nodded as the implication became clearer. "That amplified wave is then reflected from the energy screen back into the black hole and amplified further. After awhile, blam!. The mirror explodes."
"Correct. That's pretty good for just a crook."
"Thanks," I said. My self-satisfaction did not last long. "But why? Why disrupt the space around a black hole? What benefit would they derive from doing...such a...thing..."
My thoughts raced ahead.
What would happen to the STAR DIVER, I asked myself, if it should pop into such an induced maelstrom around a black hole used for jumps?
I shuddered.
With such devices situated at crucial, long-distance insertion points, Zeytal would be in a strong strategic position if it should wish to escalate current tensions with Terra into a full-scale showdown. Terran forces would have a big surprise in store for themselves if they should pop out around the wrong black hole at the wrong time. It seemed insertion points were not as tamper proof as had always been believed. Future strategy would have to undergo a major change. The balance of power would soon follow suit.
"No wonder Ztan was so adamant about not associating Zeytal with this probe," I said, thinking aloud.
I smiled as another thought came to me. And what a bargaining chip I now have.
At worst, I could use this to extricate myself from Terran hands over the mess I had created at Tanner's World. At best, I might squeeze more goodies from the Zeytallians -- though that might prove a risky orbit to follow.
"How long before rendezvous?" I asked.
"About fifteen minutes more."
"Hmm." There were possibilities to be considered. And probabilities.
"Rhann?"
"Huh? What?" I had no time for interruptions.
"Don't...don't do it." An almost pleading quality laced her voice.
"Don't do what?" I asked, bewildered.
"Don't give that probe to the Zeytallians."
My eyes widened. "Are you crazy?" I blurted out. "If I don't deliver it, I can kiss that computer implant --" Now I had done it.
"Yes," she said quietly. "I know."
"What?" My brows furrowed. Something was happening here that I wasn't quite following. "You know about the implant?"
"Yes. A surgery involving you was logged on the League medical computer. I knew Ztan was offering an implant. I've noted your recent headaches, more than can be explained by post-transition syndrome. I'm not stupid, Rhann."
"But you don't want me to get it activated? To give us a chance for a way out of that eternal dead-end of New Hell?"
"No."
"'No'? Why not?"
Silence filled the air.
"Well?" I asked.
Suddenly the speaker erupted. "Because I don't want to lose you! I don't want to be abandoned for some mini-computer that will become more a part of you than I can ever be."
My mouth gaped. "But...but I told you," I finally managed to say, "that I wouldn't leave you."
"After years of co-existing and arguing with you, Rhann Beytahl," she said dryly, "I've learned that what you say and what you do are not always coincident."
I raised a finger to object. Slowly I lowered it.
She had me. Even if she was wrong this time (wasn't she? I asked myself), I could not say much in my general defense.
"Well," I said reluctantly, almost angrily. "I suppose I could try to make a deal with the Terrans for it." I blew out a breath. "I guess I really wouldn't relish the appellation of traitor, anyway."
"That's not what I meant, either."
"No?" I flapped my arms. "Then what do you want from me, Jana?"
"I want us to continue as we always have. Together."
"Yeah," I said bitterly. "And poor."
"We've always managed to get by."
I mumbled an unrepeatable response to that. She was making me uncomfortable. And getting on my nerves.
"If you give that probe to either the Terrans or the Zeytallians," Jana said, persisting, "can you imagine what will happen to our almost-stable society? Do you want to end up in the middle of a war?"
Images of what would happen to my freedom-to-starve in event of a conflict did not set well. Jana knew my weak spots, all right.
"So what do I do with it?"
"Send it into the black hole when we exit."
It took me a moment or two to assimilate that suggestion. "And how do I break the unfortunate news to the Zeytallians?" I asked belligerently. "'Sorry, boys, but I don't have your probe.' Do you know what they'll do to me if I let them down?"
"Tell them you were unable to make it past the sentinel," Jana said imperturbably. "I tried to give you that excuse. You refused to take it."
"You...!" I choked as I tried to fathom such an admission. "You mean that mistake you made was no mistake?"
She said nothing. No answer was also an answer.
Incredulously, I shook my head. "I'll be... I guess that explains your recent spate of screw-ups. All just to keep me from using this implant."
"I'm sorry, Rhann."
I tossed my hands into the air. "Oh, don't be sorry! I've only been shot at, stabbed, speared, and half-scared to death. I only have yet to face a bunch of angry aliens, Terran forces out to nail me for violating a proscribed planet, creditors who'd love to take payment out of my hide, and who knows what else. And, oh yes," I said, standing to pace, "if somehow I can manage to escape all of that, there's still the small matter of the additional debts I incurred on New Hell setting this fiasco up; debts which could take you and STAR DIVER from me. Oh, no. Don't be sorry."
"Quit complaining," Jana said sharply. "Think of a way out of this."
I balled my fingers into fists and counted a long ten. Finally I let out my breath and sank into my chair. "All right, all right," I said. "Just give me peace."
What to do?
I knew Jana would not have time to pop out and then reinsert us before the Zeytallians cornered the STAR DIVER. We would have to finish the mess one way or another. Face to face. More or less.
There had to be something about Ztan and his fellow Zeytallians which I could utilize to extricate myself...us...from the web that was looming closer and closer overhead. Something I could exploit. Squelching my misgivings, I sent my thoughts wandering back over a lifetime of dealings with Ztan. Here and there they flitted, tugging and worrying at threads as I sought for the proper tack to follow. For a time I despaired of ever discovering the key thread. Yet finally I did locate the loose strand which might -- just might -- unravel the whole rotten net. I hoped.
It was a long shot, yet it would have to do. A long shot was all I had left.
"I think I've got it, Jana. Time to rendezvous?"
"Four minutes. But what --?"
"Just wait. And be ready for anything."
We waited.
They were waiting for us when we came through transition. My head had barely cleared when the radio crackled to life. Ztan's unmistakeable, unctuous voice reverberated from the speaker. Though he was an adept master at concealment, to me who had known him for so long, his nervous anticipation of the treasure soon to be within his grasp oozed through his words like oil through a sieve.
"STAR DIVER, STAR DIVER. This is DARK WEAVER. Rhann, my friend! We meet again."
I looked around at nothing in particular and then, inhaling a silent breath, took the plunge. "Yes. Yes, we do. For awhile anyway." Good. Just the right amount of sorrowful regret.
A static filled pause interrupted the transmission. I could almost envision Ztan drawing his brows together in puzzlement over that one.
"Uh, right. Um. You have the probe? My friend?" he asked. With admirable skill, his tone brightened with practiced ease.
"Yes."
"Wonderful! Wonderful! You will dock immediately and transfer the probe to --"
"No."
The speaker hissed in shocked silence.
"Rhann! My friend!" Ztan said warily. With lowered voice but increased intensity, he asked, "Are you crazy?"
Probably, I thought ruefully. "I've decided we'd all be better off without the information in this probe. I can't let you have it."
"Rhann," Ztan said with rising heat in his voice, "if you were unable to complete the mission, just say so. Don't be a fool or think I am one. We can destroy you!" Threats so soon? He must be under more pressure to complete this mission than I had realized. That could work to my advantage...or get me killed more quickly.
My mouth felt as dry as the sands of New Hell. Sucking saliva into my mouth, I forced my tone into what I hoped was a convincing imitation of nonchalance. "Go ahead. You'll still lose the probe. I do have it."
"We'll just build another one!" he shouted. There appeared to be little remaining of Ztan's carefully cultivated and much vaunted shell of imperturbability. Exactly to whom did he report, anyway?
"Fine," I said, allowing a trace of anger to infect my voice. "But then why the rush on this one? No, Ztan. I think the delay would upset your timeline too greatly. You'd never succeed in keeping it a secret twice."
Dead air hit the speaker. When at last Ztan's voice crept back, a new undercurrent of caution and distrust altered it. "What do you know of our timeline?"
"Enough," I said coolly. I had scored a close hit. Of course, with Ztan that was no great feat. For him, timelines and intrigues and cagy maneuverings for power and control formed the norm. I don't believe he could exist in any other fashion.
"Rhann, my friend," Ztan said icily, "perhaps you know too much. We may decide there is less risk in destroying you immediately than in letting you live a moment longer. Better to lose the probe entirely than to have it delivered to the Ter...rans..." His blustering voice trickled off into the discomfort of a suddenly awakened realization.
Yes! That was the thought I needed in his head.
"Ztan, please!" I said, instantly contrite. "Perhaps I've been hasty. We've been friends for too long to have such a silly misunderstanding come between us. You've seen through my ploy so easily." I chuckled. "I'm afraid I never could outwit you in negotiations. I'll simply have to accept that I can't alter our deal at this late date by trying to blackmail you. Fooling you is beyond my modest repertoire. It'd be idiotic for me to maintain this pretense any longer. So! Let me bring the probe aboard your ship. No need for hostilities or threats. I just thought I might be able to sweeten my end of the deal was all. I see now that won't work. I'm sorry. I really am."
"Rhann, what are you trying to pull? Were you ever working for us? Or have you always been undercover for our enemies?"
"Ztan! No! Honest! We had a deal. I swear. I've never been an undercover agent." I laughed. "Come on. You've known me for years. You know I'd never willingly get involved with some government. Please. Let me deliver the probe as I promised."
"Promise? You? Let you approach close enough with a bomb to destroy us all? No. You used me, Rhann. Used me to find the probe location so you could deliver it to the Terrans. It doesn't matter to me whether you volunteered for this operation or were coerced into plotting against us. In either event, you forfeit your safe conduct. Yet you risk your life here now. Why?"
Good question.
Jana's voice came low over her speaker. "Rhann, what are you try --"
"Shh!"
"Of course!" Ztan yelled. "You've betrayed us! You're the bait in a Terran trap. But I vow you won't live to see it close." His voice grew fainter as he turned to talk to someone else. "Destroy him!"
"Hit the engines, Jana!" I shouted.
"Where to?"
"ANYWHERE!"
With the dedication of an old warhorse, the STAR DIVER lurched and bucked in blind obediance as Jana kicked in maximum thrust. The internal compensatory field strained to a point I had never before experienced. Feeling like a bloated Sybarite, I endured, pressed back into the well-used cushions of my chair.
It would be an understatement to say we were moving.
The beam from the DARK WEAVER lashed out to where we had been. Where we were going, I had no idea.
After five minutes of full acceleration, we were still alive. Barely. All I knew was that I had had enough.
"Cut power, Jana!" Within seconds, the pressure eased. I shook, but from more than mere physical strain.
"Any sight of the DARK WEAVER?" I asked anxiously.
"No. Nothing. They're gone. Though why, I do not know. Rhann, what were you up to?"
A tired grin split my lips. "There's an old saying, Jana: you can't cheat an honest man."
"So?"
"A corollary of that is that a dishonest man will expect you to cheat him, to lie to him. He tends to project his view of himself, his motives and intentions, onto all of humanity. Ztan wouldn't believe me even when I was telling him the truth because for him, the truth is simply one more pragmatic tool to be used or discarded as his whims or external circumstances dictate. Plus, he's never trusted me any more than I've trusted him. It was natural for him to conclude that I was double-crossing him, that the Terrans really were coming for him, because that is precisely how he would have acted had he been in what he thought was my situation. Luckily for us, he decided it would be healthier not to wait around any longer for them to show up and confirm what he already 'knew.'"
"I hate to tell you, Rhann, but they're here."
"Yeah, right," I said in indulgent disbelief. "Come on. This is no time for jokes, Jana. I'm too tired." With exhausted relief I closed my eyes.
"I suggest you look at the screen."
With a kind of dreadful certainty that I really did not want to do that, I cracked my eyelids a tiny fraction. I moaned at what I saw. A familiar looking craft was closing on an intercept course. It was very big, very fast, and very Terran.
"Rhann! The probe!"
"It's too late, now," I said in weary resignation.
"No, it's not. Send it down to the black hole in the emergency buoy."
"I need it to bargain with!"
"No, Rhann. Please! For me. For us."
"Ah... Nuts!" With more energy than I had thought remained to me, I slammed my palm against the chair arm and sprang up, heading for the probe. "This had better be worth it." Hurriedly I shoved the Zeytallian treasure into the buoy. "Send it out, Jana."
With the sinking feeling in my middle that I was making a very foolhardy mistake, I watched the doors of the emergency lock close. The faint kush of ejection came seconds later.
"Let's hope they don't see it until it's too late," I murmured.
With a surprising sense of patience, I sat down to wait. I wondered how long they would sock me away. I hoped it would be in one of the more comfortable prisons. I'd already experienced a number of the extremely colorful ones.
I wondered if I would ever see the STAR DIVER or Jana again.
"Sullen" would be putting it mildly for my mood when I was later ushered into the commander's cabin aboard the Terran ship and "offered" a seat by my pair of armed guards. There was little in the way of amenities exchanged or polite chitchat.
"So their probe crashed on Tanner's World, you say? And you were the source of that sentinel alert," Commander Wanto said from where he stood behind his polished and uncluttered mahogony desk. He was not a small man -- well over two meters tall -- graying at the temples but still flat of belly. A discreet number of medals and ribbons decorated his chest.
I nodded, my fingers interlaced in my lap, my elbows resting on the arms of my chair. It was all I could do to keep from squirming beneath his penetrating gaze. I had the distinct impression that this was one man I would be unable to cheat. For some reason, he seemed determined to put me at my ease. While I appreciated his civility, I wished he would quit prolonging the inevitable. Just let me take my medicine and be done with it.
"I only regret we were so late in arriving," he said with evident sincerity. "We could have helped you." He chuckled good-naturedly. "Though we weren't too sure of you at first."
Surprised at the hint of escape which his words suggested, I blinked and straightened up in my hard-backed chair. "Oh?" I prompted.
"Now don't take it personally." he said, raising a placating palm. "We've been discreetly following Ztan's trail for quite some time. When you concluded your contract with him ... Don't look so surprised. The League's computers are not quite as secure as they would have their members believe. While the government's reach is considerably shorter than it was in the old days, information, at least, can still be had for the right price. In any event, when we became aware of your deal with Ztan, we knew probe recovery was near at hand. That, we could not allow. We were searching for it but had had no success. Worse luck for us, the vessel crashed on Tanner's World when the sentinel was on the opposite side of the globe. And since the instrument's emergency power supply was in quiescent mode until activated by your signal, there was no way for the satellite to readily detect it. Oh, eventually, the landing site scar would have been discovered and analyzed, but by then it would have been too late."
Clasping his hands behind his back, Wanto circled from behind his desk and began to pace. "So. We could not let you have it, yet we could not follow you through insertion and transition. Since we did not want Ztan to realize that the Terran authorities were aware of the Zeytallian weapon test, we sent an unmarked craft to stop you at a sufficient distance from New Hell. A simple piracy, see? To buy us time. Destroy you and anyone else whom Ztan might later have convinced to replace you." He smiled wistfully. "Unfortunately -- or so we thought then -- you got away." He wagged an admonishing forefinger at me. "You were very skillful. Or very lucky."
I shrugged noncommittally. I still did not quite understand where this line of reasoning was leading, but I was beginning to suspect I might able to cancel that order for prison house grays. Bit by bit, the blackness lightened around the edges, and I liked what I saw.
"We didn't know where you had gone," Wanto continued, "but we did learn where the rendezvous would be. We were waiting beyond the DARK WEAVER's detection range and saw them fire upon you." The commander lifted an appreciative brow. "That changed a few minds around here, let me tell you."
"I'm glad," I said with heart-felt sincerity.
"Too bad we were unable to intercept your communications," he said, looking thoughtfully into space. Returning his gaze to me, he shrugged. "But... They were heading after you when they saw us closing in. Impolite though it was, they didn't hang around to make our acquaintance. Given our priorities, we decided it was better to rescue you than to pursue them. With your testimony, we'll be able to put Ztan, at least, out of circulation for quite awhile. As soon as we catch him, that is."
"I'll be glad to help in any capacity I can," I said.
"Tell me," Wanto said smoothly, pouring us drinks from a well-used bottle he pulled from a wall cabinet. "Do you have any idea what manner of weapon they were testing?"
I took a deep swallow of the drink before answering. The fire that liquor ignited in my stomach was a welcome one. "No, sir." I shook my head regretfully. "I was just the pick-up and delivery boy." I managed that with a straight-face, no less. Maybe the drink helped. A tactical mistake on Wanto's part?
"That was the probe we saw headed for the black hole?" he asked. Warily, I noted the slight increase in tension his posture revealed.
"Yes," I said, sipping at my drink. "I didn't realize who you were until it was too late." As best I could, I exuded sorrow at this unfortunate and tragic misunderstanding.
"A pity," he said with a cluck of his tongue. "Not to be helped, I suppose." He shrugged in stoic acceptance of the inevitable. "Perhaps the science boys can learn something from the wreckage on Tanner's World."
I nodded silent agreement.
After a moment, Wanto grinned waggishly. "And don't worry." He winked confidentially. "I think I can...arrange...something on that violation."
"Why, thanks," I said, genuinely surprised. I had been certain my transgression would, at the least, be used to ensure my future cooperation. Application of such pressure seemed only natural given my history and the kind of man I was dealing with. Not wanting to press my luck, I finished my drink and smiled up at the commander in what I hoped was a convincing display of gratitude.
In evident dismissal, he extended a hand. I stood and shook it firmly. Clapping a palm on my back, he escorted me to the door and my waiting guards.
"Together, Rhann, we'll corral this Zeytallian threat before it can spread any further. Right?"
I mumbled agreement and then hurried down the corridor towards an air lock and the docked STAR DIVER. My limbs trembled from reaction, but happiness filled me as I hustled along in front of my two shadows.
Free! I was going free. I still had the STAR DIVER and Jana. The probe was destroyed, so we had a respite before that problem resurfaced. Ztan would hopefully be caught. I was an almost-hero... True, there was the matter of my unfulfilled League contract, but I couldn't expect everything to go right. Could I?
It was unbelievable.
As I entered the STAR DIVER, though, I realized that some of my troubles were not so neatly ended. There remained the little conundrum of how to deal with Jana and my implant, not to mention the more than small number of debts which demanded my attention back on New Hell.
I decided the time had arrived for some of those changes I had long been contemplating.
"Everything O.K., Rhann?" Jana asked.
"Yeah. More or less. It seems we fooled 'em." I settled into my chair. "Plot a course for New Hell."
"New Hell?"
"Right. I've unfinished business there. Some debts I have to settle. Ones I can't avoid."
"Sure, Rhann."
Jana was being unusually cooperative. I wondered how long that would last. I would have to take advantage of it while I could.
"Rhann?"
"What?"
"Thanks."
"For what?"
"For doing as I asked."
With studious detachment, I watched the monitor lights flash one by one to green as Jana readied the STAR DIVER for insertion.
"Save your thanks," I muttered. "You may regret them."
New Hell was as pleasant as I remembered it. No scuttle floated about on Ztan. That was just as well. I didn't want him fouling up my plans. Interference was the last thing I needed at this stage.
I wasn't sure I could do what I had in mind. Some discreet inquiries convinced me of its possibility. For a price. A very hefty one.
Taking a deep breath, I signed the papers which would change my life forever.
My palms were damp the next day as I ushered the "experts" aboard the STAR DIVER.
"Rhann?" Jana asked.
"What?"
"These men. Why are they here?"
For the last time, I sat down in my battered chair. "The old life is over, Jana. It's time to move on."
"But, Rhann...!"
The experts did something, and Jana's voice abruptly disappeared. I swallowed the hard lump in my throat and closed my eyes on the men I had hired. I did not care to witness their work.
They said they gave me a sedative. I suppose they did. That whole slice of time is no more than a blur in my memory now, more in the nature of a half-faded dream than a true awareness of reality. When I awoke, three hours had passed. It was over. All of it. The STAR DIVER -- the ship which had seen me through a lifetime of adventures, good and bad -- that vessel now had a new owner. I was finally out of debt. There would be no more thugs lurking around corners waiting to dent my skull and lighten my pockets...at least not at the behest of anyone who could claim a legitimate title to my wealth.
I was also stranded on New Hell with very little left to my name.
As I walked away from the port, I paused for one last look at the ship which had carried me across that long journey from brash, optimistic youth to approaching middle-age.
Do you miss her, Rhann?
I smiled. A little. But it's only a hunk of steel. I'll get over it. Turning my back on what-had-been, I headed for League headquarters. Perhaps I could wangle passage on a ship bound for Terra. With the resources available to me now -- modest though they were -- I figured I could think of some way to accomplish it. Maybe Commander Wanto...? Was it worth it?
Yes, Rhann. It was. It is. It will be. Thank you.
My smile broadened.
Breaking an access code is hard. Wiping a memory clean is not. Afterward it becomes simply a matter of transference. I knew my implant might possess less sophistication than previously, but I imagined that the feisty intelligence which inhabited it now would be a lot more fun to have around. And a good deal more satisfying to spend my life with.
You know, Jana, I think you may be right. Her pleasure suffused through my mind. You just might be right, at that.
With my shadow trailing far behind me, I quickened my pace and started to whistle. Uncounted worlds and unlimited opportunities awaited us among the stars. One by one, we would conquer them all.
Together.
