B002D48NTG EBOK

by Mike Resnick

  "Hey, Cole!" said Val's voice, and her image appeared an instant later.

  "That's not the way we open communications aboard the ship," said Cole. "But let it pass this time. What do you want?"

  "I just saw the jewelry you were trying to unload on McAllister."

  "And?"

  "You're never going to dump it the way it is," she said. "It was famous even before you screwed up on McAllister. By now everyone knows that Wilson Cole is trying to get rid of it."

  "You have a suggestion, no doubt?" asked Cole.

  "Pull the diamonds and rubies and melt the tiara down. You can sell it as a block of gold."

  "To a fence?" asked Sharon.

  Val made a face. "I thought you guys learned your lesson with fences. Hell, there are dozens of commodities dealers who don't just buy and sell futures but handle actual gold, including a couple on the Inner Frontier."

  "What about the jewels?"

  "They're a lot harder to market. By now you know you can't make any money from a fence. I know a jeweler who'll take the rubiesthey're harder to identify than the diamonds, because they haven't been laser marked, or at least these rubies haven't-but you'd be better off using them."

  "Using them?" repeated Cole.

  "As bribes. A diamond or a ruby in the right hand can buy some useful information-and the people you bribe can unload one stone a lot easier than you can unload a batch of them."

  "Sounds good to me," said Cole. "Was there anything else?"

  "Yeah," said Val. "Where do you keep your drinkin' stuff? You still owe me a Cygnian cognac."

  "I don't think we have any on board," said Cole.

  "Would you settle for an Alphard brandy?" asked Sharon.

  "Sure as hell would!" said Val enthusiastically. "My room or yours-or maybe the mess hall?"

  "Why don't we meet in the Security Department in ten minutes?" said Sharon. "We can start debriefing you in comfort."

  "I'll be there," said Val, breaking the connection.

  Sharon looked uneasy. "Well, you said to bond with her."

  "She can probably drink you under the table," said Cole, "so let her do the drinking, and you do the questioning."

  "You know," said Sharon as the door sensed her approach and irised to let her pass through, "she did make some sense, didn't she?"

  "Why is she here?" asked Rachel Marcos, trying to hide her resentment.

  "She's a pirate," replied Vladimir Sokolov. "The Captain thinks we can learn about piracy from her."

  They were on the bridge with Forrice during red shift, waiting for Cole to choose their next destination.

  "How good a pirate can she be?" persisted Rachel. "She lost her ship."

  "How good an officer can the Captain be?" answered Sokolov, who was manning his computer station. "He was demoted twice and courtmartialed once."

  "You know why that happened," said Rachel.

  "Yes, I do," answered Sokolov. "And until I know why the Valkyrie lost her ship, I'm inclined to rely on the Captain's judgment."

  "I'm not the only one who has questions about her," said Rachel defensively.

  "If you have questions, why not walk up to her and ask her?" suggested Sokolov.

  "Have you seen her?" demanded Rachel. "She's not only a giant; she's a walking weapon shop!"

  "I think she's sexy as hell," said Sokolov.

  "You would," she said distastefully.

  "That's enough," interjected Forrice. "Like it or not, she's our Third Officer."

  "What do you think of it?" asked Rachel. "Why does she deserve it, instead of Lieutenant Briggs or Lieutenant Sokolov?"

  "My opinion doesn't matter," said the Molarian. "The Captain has made his decision, and we can either accept it or leave the ship."

  "Well, she may be the Third Officer, but except for the Captain she hasn't got a friend on the whole ship."

  The exercise room was actually just an empty cabin that served as a bedroom for two alien crew members when the ship carried a full contingent. It was ten feet by twelve feet, and because it was created for races that were taller than Man, the ceiling was ten feet high, rather than the usual seven.

  There wasn't much exercising possible in the cramped quarters, but Bull Pampas had appropriated some weights and barbells, and underwent a daily regimen of lifting.

  It was during her third day on the ship, after she'd been thoroughly debriefed, that Val made her way down to the room toward the end of red shift. Bull had been there just long enough to work up a sweat. "What can I do for you, ma'am?" he asked when she entered. "Or is it sir?"

  "Whatever makes you happy," answered Val. "I heard there were weights down here, and I thought I'd put in a little work."

  "I'll get out of your way and come back when you're done, ma'am," said Pampas. He knelt down and began taking some of the weights off the bar.

  "What are you doing?" asked Val.

  "I'm a pretty experienced lifter," he said. "I'm making it a little lighter for you."

  "I'm a pretty experienced lifter myself," she said. "Let me take a shot at what you've got right there."

  "I don't want you to hurt yourself, ma'am," said Pampas.

  "I hurt other people, not myself," she said, standing before the bar. She squatted down, put her hands on it, took a deep breath, and straightened up, lifting it above her head. "It's not that heavy," she said with a smile. "You got any more weights we can put on it?"

  "How the hell did you do that, ma'am?" said Pampas admiringly. "I'm pretty strong and pretty experienced, but I worked like hell to clean and jerk that, and you lifted it like it was nothing."

  "Maybe I can teach you a trick or two about lifting," she suggested.

  "I'd sure be grateful, ma'am." He paused. "I hear that you're pretty good at taking care of yourself in a fight, too."

  "I do okay."

  "I'd be happy to work out with you," said Pampas, "though this room is awfully small."

  "I'd like very much to work out with you, Mister ... ?"

  "Pampas, ma'am," he said. "Eric Pampas. But everyone calls me Bull."

  "All right, Bull," she said. "And if you have any friends on the crew who want to keep in shape and maybe learn something about selfdefense, invite them too."

  "I sure will, ma'am."

  "Call me Val."

  Sokolov and Briggs were in the mess hall, each sipping a beer. The rest of the room was empty. Then Val entered, walked to a table, and seated herself. A menu immediately hovered in front of her, a few inches above the table.

  "Give me a Blue Comet," she said.

  "That is unknown to me," responded a mechanical voice. "Is this a human food?"

  "It's a human drink."

  "I do not find it in my data banks."

  "Then pay attention," said Val. "Take two ounces of Antarean whiskey, one ounce of Nebodian liquor, one ounce of any citrus juice-and no soya substitutions. Add a pinch of bitters, and mix in one raw egg."

  "I have no raw eggs."

  "All right," she said. "An ounce of heavy cream."

  "I have no heavy cream."

  "Have you got any ice cream?"

  "I have no ice cream."

  "Some galley!" she snorted. "How about yogurt?"

  "I have Delphinian yogurt."

  "Okay, add an ounce of any fruit-flavored yogurt. Shake it for thirty seconds, put in a couple of ice cubes, and serve it."

  "Working ..."

  "Excuse me," said Sokolov, "but we couldn't help overhearing. I've never come across a Blue Comet before."

  "It was created on the Inner Frontier," answered Val.

  "It sounds awful," said Briggs. "Like you're mixing too many things together."

  "Computer," said Val, "make three Blue Comets."

  "Working ..."

  "The only way to make up your mind is to try one," she said.

  "That seems fair," agreed Briggs. "And when we're done, I'll have the galley make up some Denebian Slime Devils."

  "I've had them," said V
al without much enthusiasm.

  "But not with Gray Vodka from Hesporite III."

  "No," she admitted. "I've never had real Gray Vodka, just the stuff they make on Keepsake. Sounds interesting."

  "Not as interesting as an Eridani Elephant," said Sokolov.

  "An Eridani Elephant?" she repeated.

  He began describing it as their Blue Comets arrived. "Ah, hell," he said. "It'll be easier to show you."

  She took a swallow of her drink. "It's all right," she said, "but it really needs a raw egg."

  "Does it have to be the egg of an avian?" asked Sokolov.

  "I don't know," she admitted. "I never thought about it. Why?"

  "Because we're as likely to touch down on a world where they sell reptile eggs, or something-else eggs, as avian eggs."

  "Drink up, first," she said. "You may decide it's not worth the effort."

  The two men downed their drinks.

  "That's powerful stuff, ma'am," said Sokolov.

  "But good," added Briggs.

  "Still, it seems to be missing a little something," said Sokolov. "I think we'll definitely remember to pick up some eggs next chance we get."

  The Denebian Slime Devils appeared a minute later, and the Eridani Elephants showed up just about the time they'd finished the Slime Devils.

  "I'm sure glad you came aboard, ma'am," said Sokolov. "I can see where my free time is going to be a lot more interesting."

  "And educational," slurred Briggs.

  Twenty minutes later the two men declared eternal friendship with their new Third Officer. And five minutes after that, she stood up and left them snoring peacefully at their table.

  "Calioparie," said Braxite.

  "Toprench," said Domak.

  "I'm telling you, calioparie is the most difficult and complicated game in the galaxy," said Braxite.

  "Nonsense," replied Domak. "It's Toprench."

  "You're both wrong," said Idena Mueller. "It's chess-the only game where the loser has no excuses."

  "You've been in the Republic too long," said Val, who'd been listening from across the room.

  "Oh?" said Idena. "And what does the pirate queen think it is?"

  "You say that like an insult," replied Val. "I consider it a compliment. You ought to try being a pirate queen sometime. It's harder than it looks. And so is bilsang."

  "What's bilsang?"

  "A game that makes chess and Toprench look like kid's games," answered Val. "I've seen the ownership of whole planets change hands over a game of bilsang."

  "What makes it so hard?" asked Braxite.

  "Its simplicity," answered Val.

  "That doesn't make any sense."

  "That's because you don't know anything about it," said Val.

  "Too bad you can't show us," said Domak sarcastically. "Now we'll never know if you were right."

  "What makes you think I can't show you?"

  "We don't have any bilsang games aboard the Teddy R," said Idena.

  "It doesn't need a board, or cards, or a computer," answered Val. "Anyone can play it." She paused. "But not anyone can win it."

  "How long does it take to play a game?" asked Domak.

  "Anywhere from five minutes to three months."

  "And you don't need anything special?"

  "Just a brain," said Val. "You want me to teach you the basics?"

  "How long will this take?" asked Idena. "I'm on duty in another half hour."

  "Five minutes for the rules, a lifetime for the subtleties."

  "What the hell, why not?" said Idena. "What do we need?"

  "A flat surface, and twenty pieces. Coins will do. Or medals. Or anything that you can fit twenty of on a tabletop."

  "All right," said Idena, reaching into her pocket. "I've got about ten coins."

  "I'll contribute the rest," said Val. "Who knows? Maybe one of you will become good enough to challenge me."

  The coins were placed on the table.

  "What do we do now?" asked Domak.

  Val explained the rules, and a few of the subtleties. Then Idena had to leave, but Braxite and Domak decided to play a game. They were still playing it, oblivious of all else, when Idena returned five hours later.

  Within a week the whole ship was enmeshed in a bilsang tournament.

  In two weeks she'd won over every member of the crew except Forrice and Rachel. When Rachel was finally convinced that the Valkyrie had no romantic interest in Cole, nor he in her, she relented and accepted her as a member of the crew.

  Forrice was a harder case, but his opposition to her shattered one day when he and Val found themselves in the tiny officers' lounge during white shift. Nobody knows quite how it started, but when Cole entered the lounge he found them telling each other dirty Molarian jokes and laughing their heads off.

  Everyone sympathized with her quest for her ship and her revenge against the Hammerhead Shark, but the general consensus was that it would be a shame if the Teddy R actually managed to find the Pegasus.

  It was two Standard weeks to the day after the Valkyrie had joined the crew that the first word of the Pegasus reached the Teddy R.

  It was during white shift, and Christine Mboya immediately summoned Cole and Val to the bridge, where Briggs and Jack-in-the-Box were manning the computer consoles.

  "Sir," she said when Cole was standing before her, "I've just intercepted a call for help from Cyrano."

  "What and where is Cyrano?" he asked. "And why did you summon Val?"

  "Cyrano's a planet about ninety light-years from here, and the distress call mentioned the Pegasus."

  "That bastard is endangering my ship!" Val bellowed furiously.

  "What are you talking about?" asked Cole.

  "Cyrano is Donovan Muscatel's headquarters," said Val. "He and the Shark are rivals, so the Shark decided to approach him in a ship he didn't recognize and then opened fire."

  "So you figure it's over already?"

  "I'm not saying Donovan is dead," answered Val. "I'm just saying that the Pegasus has blown his base to hell by now."

  "Then why isn't he dead?"

  "He's got four ships. They're never all in port at the same time, so there's a chance that he wasn't on Cyrano during the attack. But I guarantee by the time we get there all we're going to find is a hole in the ground."

  "Pilot, take us there anyway, top speed," ordered Cole. Christine looked at him questioningly. "We've got to start somewhere," he explained. "If there are any survivors, they might be able to tell us where Muscatel's other ships are." He turned to Val. "The Shark would go after the other ships once he took care of the base, wouldn't he?"

  "Once he starts, he can't allow any survivors or he'll be looking over his shoulder the rest of his life." Suddenly she slammed a fist against a bulkhead. "Damn his eyes!"

  "What is it?"

  "Donovan's got friends, and now they're all going to be after my ship!"

  "Isn't that what we're doing?" asked Christine, looking confused.

  "Yes," replied Cole. "But our purpose is to capture it and turn it over to Val after we appropriate some of its treasure for our trouble. You have to figure any friends of Muscatel are going to be out to destroy it and everyone who's in it."

  "God have mercy on anyone who destroys the Pegasus," growled Val angrily, "because they're sure as hell not going to get any from me!"

  "Save the threats for later," said Cole. "We've got other things to consider first. For example, if we approach the Pegasus, will the Shark talk first or shoot first?"

  "Shoot."

  "Even though he doesn't know you're aboard?"

  "The Shark doesn't talk," said Val. "Ever. If you're approaching him, he'll assume you have a reason, and whatever the reason is, it's not going to be good news for the Pegasus. He'll shoot."

  "The Pegasus is your ship," said Cole. "I want you to go down to Security and tell Sharon Blacksmith everything you know about itits size, its weaponry, its defenses, its top speed, its weaknesses."

 
"I already did."

  "Do it again."

  "It's a waste of time."

  "Perhaps, but there may be some little thing you missed the first time around. Sharon's monitoring this, so she'll be expecting you."

  "No," said Val. "I told her everything I know about it."

  "I'm getting tired of people questioning my judgment," said Cole. "I gave you an order. Disobey it and our pursuit of the Pegasus stops right now and I put you off on the first oxygen world we come to, inhabited or not."

  She stared at him expressionlessly for a long moment. "This is your ship, so I'll do what you want," she said at last. "But don't you ever speak to me in that tone of voice on my ship."

  She turned and walked to the airlift.

  "You know," said Briggs, who was manning the sensors, "for just a minute there I thought she was going to take a swing at you."

  "She could probably mop up the floor with me," acknowledged Cole. "But she wants her ship more than she wants anything else, so she'll do whatever's necessary to get it back. And if Sharon can get something useful out of her, maybe we can settle for disabling the Pegasus rather than destroying it."

  Christine had been studying the various screens as they spoke. "She was right, sir," she announced. "The Pegasus has left the Cyrano system."

  "Any idea where it's heading?"

  She shook her head. "No, sir. Cyrano's not a planet with sophisticated technology, sir. Tracking a ship that's moving at light speeds through a Grade Three wormhole is beyond their ability."

  "All right," said Cole. "I suppose we'll need a landing party to interview any survivors or eyewitnesses."

  "I'd like to volunteer, sir," said Briggs.

  "Fine. Report to the Kermit when we hit the outer reaches of the system."

  "I'd like to volunteer too," offered Jack-in-the-Box.

  "I appreciate it," answered Cole, "but we'll only need a landing party of three."

  "You only have one so far, sir," said Jack-in-the-Box.

  "Val's got to be in the party," replied Cole. "She'll know what questions to ask."