Anthony, Piers - Tyrant 1 - Refugee

by Anthony, Piers

  The man froze in mid grasp. "Oh, no!" he muttered.

  "You think a girl survives in space because of her muscle?" I asked, following up my advantage. I could tell the man was really shaken. Evidently QYV's notoriety extended throughout piratedom.

  He backed off. "Why didn't you say something before?"

  "Kife wants it private," I explained. "I'll probably get in trouble just for giving away my status." And, really, I had become Kife's courier, for I retained the key in the capsule. "Take me to your captain."

  "Damn!" he swore. "I'm tempted to—"

  "Yes, I heard about someone who did that once," I said blithely. "Thought he was real smart, thought Kife wouldn't know. But Kife always knows. You know how long it took that man to die, once Kife caught him?"

  The pirate was uncertain again. "Look, girl, I just drew straws! I didn't know—"

  I saw Spirit smirking. "At the end, he couldn't even scream," I said. "Though he sure was trying to! Because of the blood, you know, in his throat. They ran a hose into him, up his nose and down his windpipe, so he wouldn't choke to death on the gore before they were ready. Kife doesn't like it when someone dies before he's ready. They hadn't done the eyes yet, or the liver—"

  The pirate retreated farther. "What do you want, girl?" He had evidently forgotten my demand to see the captain, or hadn't taken it seriously. I decided to play with this some more. I was hurt and angry about the holing of our bubble and the callous murder of the other six children. This might be a small vengeance, but it helped.

  "I just thought you'd like to know what you're missing. They gave me one of his gonads for a souvenir, pickled in brine. 'Course it was sort of ragged, because he kicked some while they were pulling it off—"

  I don't think I ever saw so rugged a man look so sick so suddenly. "I never touched you, girl! I didn't know—"

  "Take me to your captain," I repeated, tiring of this sport. But mixed with my fiendish glee at the nature of this reprieve was my sense of irony. Had Helse employed her weapon of the name more freely, she need never have died. She hadn't really known what she had.

  Thus we found ourselves in the presence of the captain, called Brinker. He was not one of the bushy-bearded types; he was clean-shaven and his jacket fitted well. He was small, but looked very much like a Nordic officer, with pale blond hair and sharp, almost chiseled facial features. I became more certain than ever that he had deserted from the Titanian navy, taking his ship and crew with him. I understood such things happened. Space around Uranus wouldn't have been safe for him, so he had crossed to Jupiter and taken up the trade of piracy. He seemed completely self-assured and carried a needle-laser sidearm in a holster visible in his left armpit, its butt forward. I wondered how this physically unprepossessing person maintained discipline over rough pirates, now that he was not supported by the weight of military law and custom. This was obviously a fairly taut ship.

  "Say the word," Captain Brinker said to me.

  "Not in public," I said, aware that I was being tested.

  I did not see Brinker's hand move, but abruptly the pistol was in it and there was the tingle of heated air beside my left ear. Suddenly I saw how Brinker kept discipline. He must be the fastest gun in space! He could have burned me instead of firing past my head, and I would not have had time to blink. The pistol was already back in the holster.

  But I sensed that it would be wrong to back down in the face of such a threat. Captain Brinker did not respect those he could readily cow. That much my talent of human understanding indicated, though we had not interacted long enough for me to gain a clearer comprehension of the captain's nature. So though I was frightened, I bluffed. "Shoot me. You know whom you will answer to."

  The pistol appeared in his hand again, its lens-muzzle bearing on my right eye. But I had never been daunted by such threats. Afterwards, when I had time to consider, I might shudder with reaction, but at the time of crisis I always stiffened my opposition when threatened. This wasn't courage, just the way I am. Some circuit in my brain cuts out under pressure. So I stared into that lens and waited, unspeaking.

  Again the weapon snapped back to its holster. "Very well," Brinker said. "You shall have your private interview."

  The pirate guards left, the panel sealing behind them. My sense was continuing to operate; there was something amiss about the captain. I had felt a similar unease when first meeting Helse in her guise as a boy.

  That was the key. "Spirit," I said in a normal voice. "Do you remember Helse's secret?"

  She looked puzzled. "I remember."

  "Another shares it."

  Her brow furrowed, then straightened. She was catching on. "Are you sure?"

  "Almost. In a moment I'll tell."

  Captain Brinker frowned. "What are you talking about?"

  "You asked me to say the word," I said while Spirit unobtrusively moved away from me. "I can do better than that. I can write it out for you." I glanced about the chamber, the Captain's small office. "Do you have something to write with?"

  "Just spell it," Brinker snapped.

  That, of course, was the test. If I spelled Kife the way it sounded, I would show up as an imposter. But I had another ploy now. I saw that Spirit had gotten herself close to an anchored metal cabinet, so might have a baffle. I took the plunge. "F-E-M-A-L-E," I spelled aloud.

  The pistol was back in the Captain's hand, aiming at my eye. "Explain yourself, girl."

  "I suggest you not fire until you consider the consequence," I said evenly, though the cold clutch of fear almost brought me down. I dread the thought of blindness! "If you are not concerned with the vengeance of Kife, you should think of the more immediate result of action against us." I had slipped in the other key word deliberately, so that it would seem like no bluff, with the spelling held in reserve. "The secret you value most will be exposed if you kill us. This chamber is not completely soundproofed; one of us will scream the word while you kill the other." I glanced toward Spirit, who now stood behind the cabinet, out of the line of fire. "Your men will hear, and wonder—and when they discover the nature of our bodies, they will understand the potential."

  "You are speaking gibberish," the Captain said.

  "No," I said. "Here is the secret: None of the three of us here are the sex we seem."

  The captain did not seem to react. "Be more specific."

  "I am male," I said. "Spirit is my sister. And you—"

  "Show me," the Captain snapped, the laser still zeroed on my eye.

  I lifted my skirt and dropped my bloomers, displaying my masculine parts. This was hardly the occasion for modesty! I signaled to Spirit, who stepped out and started to drop her trousers.

  "Enough," the captain said. "You have made your point. How did you know?"

  I covered my private region, straightening out my dress. "I have had experience with transvestism, as you can see. I have learned to recognize it. In my profession, such abilities are often necessary. My employer does not like to have his name bandied about, so I avoid the use of it when possible by using other means to conceal my nature." Again I was implying that my position as courier was to be taken for granted.

  "In a dozen years, no one has realized I am a woman," Captain Brinker said, putting away the pistol. "I killed any who suspected. If my crew knew, I would lose my command—and more."

  "Much more," I agreed. "It is not to the advantage of any of us to have our natures revealed. Shall we deal on that basis, and leave Q-Y-V out of it?" Now at last I spelled it, to remove the last trace of doubt about my connection.

  "What do you want?"

  "I want my freedom," I said. "To pursue my mission. If I fail my mission, I will have to seek a very fast, very sure extinction. I also want the freedom of my sister."

  "She is a courier too?"

  I was aware that she was testing me again, so I steered clear of unnecessary elaboration. "No. Couriers don't travel in pairs. She is only my sister—but I will not make any agreement unless she is free." />
  "If I set you free, I have no guarantee of your silence," Brinker pointed out. "Rather than risk that, I will destroy the whole ship."

  But first she would try to eliminate us cleanly, hoping somehow to conceal our natures and hers from her crew. I saw that she could not be moved on this aspect. "That would certainly protect you from my employer's vengeance," I agreed. "I trust you have no blood relatives he can trace. Yet I would rather live, and you would too. Is there no compromise?"

  "Yes. I will give you the lifeboat. Your sister remains with me."

  As hostage! It did make sense, as I would never betray the captain's secret while my sister was subject to her will, and the captain would not kill Spirit as long as Spirit's life guaranteed my discretion. Yet I could not do it. Spirit was all I had left, the only remaining barrier between me and total desolation. "Make another offer," I said curtly.

  "No other offer," the captain said, now assured that Spirit was important to me. "I may neither kill you nor let you go entirely free without imperiling myself. It must be all or nothing—or this. Take the compromise—or the consequence."

  "Hope, she means it," Spirit said. "Do it. She will not harm me, for I have the same secret. I can be the cabin boy, and I will not be molested. You must go free—to complete your mission."

  My nonexistent courier mission! "My father, my mother, my fiancée—all sacrificed themselves for me!" I exclaimed in anguish. "You are all I have left, Spirit! I cannot let you go!"

  "Hope, I said I would die for you," Spirit replied. "This is not nearly as bad. We may someday meet again." And I saw the tears on her face, and knew she was determined to make this final sacrifice for me. I had to do it.

  "Agreed," I said to the captain, almost choking over the word. Spirit—I did not know whether I could survive without her, or whether I wanted to. Yet it seemed it had to be done. "We are children and you are pirates—but we have seen as much of death as you have. Do not test us unduly. I refuse to use my courier status to win free; find another pretext to put me on the lifeboat." I was serious; I was on the verge of throwing it all in, screaming out the captain's secret, and letting things follow as they would.

  "We understand each other," the captain said. "I will send you back to the bed. You will hijack the ship instead, using our detonation-control panel. Your sister will have to do it." She glanced at Spirit. "You have the nerve, girl?"

  "I have the nerve—girl," Spirit replied.

  "No more of this!" I said immediately, knowing that mayhem was in the near offing. Either of those two would destroy the ship if pressed, herself with it. "You are both male, henceforth. And I will exit as I am."

  "Then listen, lad," Captain Brinker said to Spirit, and my sense informed me that she was not entirely displeased about this development. I realized that it must be a lonely thing, being the only woman in a crew of cutthroat men, anonymously, unable ever to let down her guard lest she be relegated to perpetual slave duty in the guest room. She surely had to sleep in a locked chamber. She might wish for the company of her own kind, while preserving her secret—and we had handed that opportunity to her.

  Brinker was letting it be understood that she was compromising in the face of necessity—but in reality she was arranging exactly what she wanted: to be rid of me and to keep my sister. This insight did not dismay me; it reassured me. The captain had no reason to betray us.

  The captain tersely explained how to arm the detonator panel, so that the pirate ship would be blown up if anything happened to the one in control. Then we were ready; I would not need my space suit in the lifeboat, and I already had a fair notion how to pilot it, and where I was going. Except—

  "The ephemeris!" I exclaimed. "I must have that!"

  "You know how to get it," the Captain said.

  I nodded. I looked at Spirit.

  "One thing," Spirit said to the captain. "If my brother doesn't make it safely away—"

  "You will do what I would do in the circumstance," Brinker finished.

  "Yes."

  "Spirit isn't bluffing," I said.

  The captain smiled grimly. "I think we shall get along."

  I thought they would, too. There was an underlying similarity between them.

  I embraced Spirit. "Beloved brother—farewell," I said, not caring that a feminine tear showed on my face.

  She looked so small, trying to be brave, her face scarred, one finger missing. But I knew she would blow up the ship if she had to.

  "Beloved sister," she responded. "I love you." She kissed me with a passion that disconcerted me.

  I turned to the captain. "You will see that my brother is well treated," I said, and was surprised at the coldness in my voice. I had the fake weapon of QYV and the real one of the captain's secret, but in fact I believed I would find a way to come for Brinker and kill her in the most humiliating and painful way if she harmed Spirit, and this was manifest in my tone. I would somehow in due course destroy all pirates; this I had already vowed. But Spirit was special.

  "You can be sure of it." Captain Brinker was no gentle creature, but she understood. There was no bluffing in any of this; we were all killers.

  The captain activated her buzzer, summoning the guard pirates. "Take the girl back to the guest room; her protection is fake, and she will have to cooperate. Leave the boy with her for now; we'll lock them up together until we tire of her."

  The arriving pirates smiled broadly. "Yes, sir!" one said, crunching my elbow with his huge hand. I must have made a very fetching image of a girl! The other grabbed for Spirit, who looked so cowed it was obviously not necessary to hold her securely.

  I had seen that cowed look before. That was when Spirit was most deadly dangerous.

  We accompanied the men docilely enough. I noted how other pirates nodded; their captain had come through again, penetrating the difficult matter of the Kife ploy. It was not just Brinker's ready laser that compelled respect; it was her ability to solve the tricky problems, protecting the ship when some other person might have blundered. Brinker was a good captain, setting aside the issue of legality. Even the way the bubble had been holed—that had defused our trap before we had a chance. Brinker took no unnecessary chances.

  We entered the longitudinal hall—and Spirit exploded. She kicked her guard pirate in the leg, punched him in the gut, and used him as a brace to shove off violently. In a moment she was plunging down the passage toward the control room at the end.

  "Hey!" the man cried stupidly, going after her. My own guard kept his hand on me, and I, being supposedly female and helpless, made no move.

  He hauled me toward the control room. We passed through the door and stood on the floor, which could serve as a wall when the ship was accelerating. Our heads were pointed toward the center of the ship, far up the center passage.

  Spirit had made it to the Destruct Control panel and stood with her small hands locked on a lever. "Let my sister go!" she cried, spying us.

  The pirate on duty gaped. "That's the detonator!" he said. "One tug on that lever and all our ammo blows!"

  Spirit smiled and tugged the lever down. Every pirate in sight blanched. "Tried to fool me, huh?" she demanded. "I've seen these things before. Now I've armed it; if I let go, it'll snap back, and that'd blow a hole in your ship, wouldn't it! See how you bastards like breathing vacuum, same's you did for our people. Turn my sister loose!"

  Hastily, my guard did so. I rubbed my elbow. "Brother," I asked, "do you know what you're doing? We'll die, if—"

  "But we'll take all these apes with us," she said zestfully. "That's the way I like to go!"

  I spoke to the pirates. "I know my brother. He's a power-crazy brat. He thinks killing people is a game. He used to smash all his toys for the fun of it. He's not afraid of death. If you don't do what he says—"

  Captain Brinker appeared. "What?"

  "We're hijacking your ship, sir," Spirit called. "You pilot it where we say, or I'll blow it right out of Jupiter orbit!"

  "You un
grateful brat!" Brinker exclaimed. The laser pistol appeared in her hand. "I spare your life, and you pull this. Get away from that panel!"

  "Go ahead, kill me!" Spirit gibed. "When I let go of this handle, we'll all go! Boom!"

  "Sir!" a sweating pirate cried. "It's true! We can't take the chance!"

  The captain's weapon swung to cover him. "Don't tell me what to do!" Brinker snapped. "Who let that brat go?"

  The pirate closest to Spirit turned, his face turning waxy. "It was so quick—"

  The beam of the laser speared him through the right eye. Steam and fluid puffed out as the eyeball was burned and punctured. The man staggered back, clapping one hand to his face.

  "When I give an order, I expect it to be carried out competently," the Captain said. "I had this matter settled, and you have bungled us into a problem. She turned back to Spirit. "What do you want, boy?"

  "Pilot this ship to Leda," Spirit said.

  "The Jupe military base? They'd blow us out of space! You might as well turn that handle loose now and get it done with."

  Spirit looked at the handle. "Oh. Well—" She made as if to let it go, and again the pirates blanched.

  I stepped in. "The captain's not bluffing, kid. We can't hijack this ship there."

  Spirit scowled. "I know. But I sort of like explosions anyway." She let go the handle—and caught it halfway back.

  A pirate grunted in horror, but the captain didn't flinch. It was evident whose nerves were steadiest. "We'll give you safe-conduct to our lifeboat," Brinker said. "It's fueled and stocked; it can easily reach Leda."

  "No good," I said. "We can't even find Leda without our ephemeris, and we don't know how to pilot a spacecraft."

  The captain spoke to a pirate. "Suit up, go to the bubble and fetch its ephemeris." Then, to me: "There are instructions on the boat. It is designed to be operated by any fool who may survive disaster in space, even a teen-age girl. You can operate it, if you can read English."

  "I can read English," I said. "Spirit, maybe we should—"

  "Okay, take my sister there," Spirit said. Then she did a dismayed double-take, fine little actress that she was. "Oops—how can I go? I have to keep my hand on this handle!"