by Robert Culp
“How long is too long?”
“Ten minutes. You know she-he-they-whatever can read our thoughts, right? We have no secrets or expectation of privacy.”
“Habit. Ten minutes from…now. Go.” She taps the starter switch on a watch. I switch my coms back on and hurry to catch up.
As we move towards the pyramid, the wind pummels us. Frost is quickly forming on the HAZBOTs, the disk, our visors, and the edge of Gwen’s hood. Almost halfway to the pyramid, Gwen stops and turns. The wind blows snow and ice into her face. She squints against it. I turn to follow her gaze. I click through my various filters until I see what she’s looking at. The WARBOT is about two hundred feet behind us. Lightning flashes from Gwen’s eyes to the robot. The combat automaton explodes.
Azazeel says, “That was stupid.” Gwen turns and resumes her march to the pyramid.
It’s a long walk, but we arrive at the base of the pyramid. Any time I try to hold Gwen’s hand, Azazeel snatches it back.
At the entrance of the pyramid, I realize that unless it can levitate the rest of the way in, one of the robots will have to back in. “Does it make a difference which order we enter in?” I ask Azazeel.
“Move in as you must. Have the robots release the disk two meters inside. I will take it from there.”
I drop to all fours and crawl through the door. Gwen needs only to bend over slightly. The HAZBOTs enter, one backing in with the disk between them. Two meters in, they stop and lower the disk to the soft sand of the interior. According to my armor’s sensors, the temperature is comfortable by human standards. But ice is still caked on the HAZBOTs and the fur of Gwen’s hood. The room is huge. The pyramid is a single chamber with complicated objects resembling stalactites hanging from the ceiling. Each one covered with very intricate runes or hieroglyphs. Gwen walks to one of the lower ones and locks her hands around it. Yellow light flows from her hands through a network of channels on the walls. The disk levitates to the “ceiling” and nests in an alcove that looks made for it.
I feel a sense of movement. I look at the sandy floor and see drag marks extending from my boots forward. I am being moved to the door by an unknown, irresistible source. Gwen hasn’t moved. “I’ve done what you asked!” I shout, “I brought you the disk. Release the girl! All we want to do is leave. You said if we brought you the disk you would release the girl!”
“The word I used was ‘may.’ I have decided against it. You are no longer needed. Begone!”
There is a rumble as if twenty generators and their engines ignite under the pyramid. Gwen remains with her hands on the stalactite instrument. I am whisked through the door and land out in the snow. The HAZBOTs fly through the door as well. I have to roll to one side or risk them landing on me. The ice around the pyramid begins to fissure and crack.
The pyramid in its entirety slowly lifts skyward. Now we see that the ‘building’ is the bow of a gigantic cruiser. The ship erupts out of its frozen prison like a dagger emerging from a crystalline scabbard.
All I can think to do is scream. So that’s what I do. I scream her name.
Over my headset I hear Shawna, “Night Searcher, Mission Launch two. Do you see the enemy ship lifting from this location? We need that nuke strike you mentioned.”
“We see it. Are any of our people aboard the ship? Any location idea? I doubt our missiles would affect that ship.” That damned android is arguing! We are the people on the ground, she told us to call for a nuke strike if we needed one; why is she arguing?
The ship clears the planet surface on its way to orbit. It is at least a 100,000-ton cruiser, black and sleek. It is easily five times the size of Night Searcher.
Sherri answers Aria. “Gwen is aboard. Launch two is RTB.”
I turn off my comms and speak at the receding cruiser, “Take care of yourself, baby.”
I’ll never know if I really heard “I love you, Mommy” but just in case, I think back “I love you, too.”
I turn my comms back on. Sherri is barking orders at the ground crew: “Pack it up. Jonesy, recover what you can of the robots. Anya, help him. We’re going back to the ship.” She uses the armor’s jumping rig and lands beside me, helping me to my feet. “Come on Boss, we have a hop to make.” Our suits lock together at the hip. She wraps my arm around her waist and her arm around my shoulder. Her suit issues commands to my suit to jump. We make two bounds and land at the launch. I allow myself to be fastened in.
“She hurt?” Jones asks.
Sherri answers, “She’s a little fucked up right now. She’ll be okay. You’ve seen it.”
“Roger that, little Boss.”
“Bend over. I got your ‘little Boss.’”
In moments, the launch lifts to rejoin Night Searcher.
19 PURSUIT AND PROMOTION
I can’t stand it. I strip my armor off, slinging the pieces wherever they may go. If I had an energy weapon, I’d probably be putting holes in the hull. I let it all out. Tears, shrieks, probably saliva and mucus as well.
One of the Troopers, still in armor, stands in front of me. Voice modulators weren’t necessary. But they were cheap, available, and in the right circumstances useful. The metallically-filtered and completely unrecognizable voice says: “Do you need to hit something that won’t break?” You know it! Whoever it is makes token resistance, moving enough to dissipate the force of my blows. Not to protect themselves, but me. If I were to connect solidly with that armor as hard as I’m swinging, I would probably break something in my hands or arms. I punch until I’m tired, then the armored Trooper feigns a swing at me. It’s not going to connect, but it reawakens enough in me to beat on it some more. I collapse, physically and emotionally exhausted. The Trooper carries me to the entrance of the flight deck, pushing me gently but unceremoniously into the copilot seat. Shawna reaches across me and clicks my safety harness shut. I sit fitfully for the rest of the trip. We are on final approach to Night Searcher when Sherri taps me on the shoulder. She has my flight suit in hand. “You may want to put this on, Boss. We can’t have the Chief Engineer traipsing around in a onesie on the small craft bay now, can we?” I look into the passenger area. They have all gotten out of their armor and back into their own clothes.
Oh Lords, not only did I have a breakdown, I did it in my underwear. I hope there were no cameras running. “Uh, thanks.” I stand and pull my coveralls on. There’s no point in taking the undergarment off. I look back into the cargo compartment. Even though it’s accommodating for gender on the inside, from the outside all suits of the armor look the same. “Which of you three let me beat myself stupid against them?”
“Ma’am?” Anya replies innocently.
“What d’you mean?” Jones asks.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Chief.” Sherri replies.
I look at Shawna. She meets my gaze. “Yeah, it’s like that. What happens on the cutter stays on the cutter. But between you and me, I think it was the one in the white and gray armor.”
“They’re all white and gray.”
She makes a show of looking back into the cargo area. “Well, I’ll be. So they are.”
I’m betting against Anya, solely based on her unfamiliarity with the armor. That leaves Sherri and Jonesy, but unless someone confesses, I’ll never know.
Once we get back aboard, I plan to head down to the armor lab and start cranking out more of the prototype armor. I’ll tell Viggo to go clean an engine or something because I need busy hands. At least, that was my plan until Aria greets us on the flight deck. “We are pursuing the ship. Captain Prowse’s desire was to take Gwendolyn back to the Academy of Ancients, (a psionic research facility on Atlas.) He never gave an order countermanding that. Therefore, it is now our mission to pursue and recover her until successful or ordered otherwise. The cruiser is heading to Transit space, certainly to Transit. We have some of the footage from your helmet cameras and have been feeding the data to Captain Prowse’s mind. We have been able to deduce a likely course. And we
are in pursuit. There will be a full briefing in the bridge conference room in an hour.” She looks directly at me and adds, “If that is convenient?” What the Gehenna? She’s never asked me about a briefing before. And she’s referred to him by name rather than office twice. She’s never done that.
“One hour. I’ll be there.”
Ginny falls in beside me as I walk towards the Conference Room. I look at her quizzically, one eyebrow raised. “Aria called me directly,” she explains. “I asked if you were going to be here, she said yes, but wouldn’t say why she wanted me to attend also.”
“I guess we’ll find out soon enough.” We walk in. None of the regular department heads are here, but I’m the only one with an assistant. I take my customary seat. The Captain’s is, of course, vacant. Ginny leans against the wall behind me. Aria hands me a portable data unit. We go around the table, each department giving their report. Ginny talks about the engines; I talk about the mission to the planet.
“Chief MacTaggert, during your away mission there was another incident, an assassination attempt. During a department head meeting, a chemical device containing a neurotoxin was exploded in the conference room. All crewmembers present, aside from the Captain, were killed. His breathing apparatus allowed him to survive, but only physically. Dr. Traynor, who was unable to attend the meeting, states the toxin is slowly killing him. The memory unit I gave you contains Captain Prowse’s instructions. In a nutshell, as the senior surviving department head, you are in command until we pick up our replacement Captain in the Ramaris system. He was going to meet us in sector 002, but as we have no idea where the cruiser is heading, he will wait for us on Atlas. You can, of course, refuse the appointment. You should review the chip first, and get back to me at your convenience. We plan to be in Transit for six weeks on our current course. It looks like the cruiser is heading for Lacus IV in the Elcan Sector. Miss Berry, you will temporarily be the lead engineering officer unless Chief MacTaggert refuses the appointment.” Ginny nods.
“Oh is that… Wait, me? ‘Captain?’ Odin’s eyebrow, why? What in the worlds was he thinking? I don’t know anything about running a starship!” It’s too much! First Gwen, now this…I can’t process it all. I take a deep breath. My inner voice calmly says “No problem.” I address the room, “All right, I’ll accept the appointment provisionally. I’ll review the chip, sleep on it, and get back to you with a firm answer in the morning.”
A man wearing a familiar face walks in. “Commander Malcolm Rangee, Captain. First Officer.” I know that guy!
“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Commander. I’m going to stay out of your business until I know the right questions to ask. For the moment, continue to do the great job you have been.” And I’ll try to figure out why I’ve been on this ship for over a year, half of that as a department head, and I haven’t seen you since you gave me an aptitude exam.
“My first order as Captain: Clear the room. I have some of that ‘ears only’ crap for Aria.”
Rangee is the last one at the door. “One question, sir: Would the Captain like a daily status report, or daily meetings?” Did he just…wait. Starship captains are traditionally addressed in the masculine and third person.
“We’ll reconvene here at 0900,” I answer. “From there we’ll develop a plan for going forward, presuming I decide to keep the appointment. First order of business: I do not need to be—nor will I tolerate being—addressed in the third person. ‘You’ is an acceptable pronoun. And I prefer ‘ma’am’ not ‘sir,’ in fact I insist on it. I don’t care what tradition dictates. I’m in the hot seat now. Dismissed.” He nods and leaves. ‘Dismissed’ came pretty easily. The Old Man must have had more of an effect on me than I realized. Was he telepathically programming me for command when he was trying to undress me? ‘Imprinting’ was the word he used to describe it I think.
Once they are all gone, I sigh heavily and ask, “Is it time to…dispatch the Captain?”
“Yes, I believe it is” Aria says. “As you review the chip, you will confirm that you are the person Captain Prowse wanted. As interim commander, you will gain a new android assistant, Athena. She is also a Debi. She has been in storage for fifteen years. I will talk to Chief Sunday in robotics for waking her up.”
“Very well. We’ve got the rest of the Transit to get this sized right. Carry on.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Before you go, I can already feel this weighing me down… ”
“That’s why Commander Rangee and I are here, ma’am. To assist you and see that you do not carry this load alone. The demands on a starship captain are literally too numerous to mention. If you attempt to do it all yourself, you will burn out quickly. I recommend you do just as Captain Prowse did: assign tasks and verify their completion, not their execution.” In other words, tell them what to do and stay out of the way while they are doing it.
“I will need your help and advice. And when it’s just you and me, it’s ‘Sonia.’”
“As you wish, Sonia.”
I walk to Engineering. Ginny is tying up some loose ends. I pick up the hand microphone for the intercom and ask her to meet me in the LEO.
When she comes in, I’m sitting down, but not behind the desk. She looks at me, I gesture to the seat behind the desk. “You were in the same meeting I was. You are Chief Engineer for the next twenty-four hours or until I tell you otherwise, whichever comes last.” At least I can give myself some down time.
“As you wish, ma’am.” She settles into the chair. “It looked more comfortable from that side of the desk.”
“I always felt I spent way too much time in it. I would have preferred getting grease under my fingernails. I could waste some breath telling you about the team, but you already know all about the engine guys. You’ll need to pull Viggo off the armor project and into the engine rooms. Complete dossiers are available on the others. You’ve spent more time with them than I have over the past six months. So I don’t need to tell you anything. If you have any problems with the rest of the engineering teams, let me know.”
She gives me a level gaze. “Yes, Captain. We’ve got it under control.”
“I know. I’ll tell you like I told the XO: I’ll stay out of your business until I need to get into it. And you don’t want me in your business, do you?”
“No, ma’am.” We smile at each other. “I want you on the bridge doing all that megacredit brouhaha.”
Back in my Stateroom, I review what’s on the chip. It contains the Captain’s Living Will, and gives orders to terminate him if he goes into a coma that doesn’t look promising. An Amulet is specifically mentioned. It is stored in his stateroom in the safe, access code 00B23J9. I guess that means Gwen and…I guess that means I am moving again. In a video of himself, the Captain states specifically that Gwendolyn is to be delivered to Master Durmund at the Academy of Ancients on Atlas, Southern Lemuria, at all costs. “Sonia, understand this: Gwendolyn must mature in an environment with people that can help her control her growing psionic abilities. You must deliver her to Master Durmund. There are no alternatives. Night Searcher and her crew are expendable in pursuit of this effort.” Holy snakes.
There is a section about Gorb. He has a degenerative cerebral illness, probably terminal, that no doctor has been able to diagnose, much less treat. He is also to be terminated if it becomes unmanageable.
I have been willed the following:
The Amulet
100 Million Credits (completely separate from Night Searcher’s treasury)
The Captain’s badge of office, a microwire cutlass
Of course, temporary command of Night Searcher
Athena (a DEBI model android)
Anya and six other slaves: four women, two men. Bethany, Clarisse, Duncan, Elizabeth, Frances and Taylor
The Tome of the Ancients
After viewing the chip I walk down to the Medbay. It’s so much to take in. Needa is working intake. Avi looks at me over her shoulder. “I need a therapeutic
, tension busting massage. Can anyone here help me out?”
“As much as I hate to refuse,” Avi answers, “we are conducting crew physicals. But I can think of two options. One: Tomorrow night at twenty hundred, I’ll massage you for eight hours straight if you want, with your permission, of course. Two: If you don’t want to wait that long, two of your slaves, Clarisse and Duncan, are expert massage therapists. I certified them myself and heartily recommend them.”
“How did you…? Oh yeah, your mom was at my promotion. I was hoping for something a little more immediate. I’ll let you know.”
Walking the halls still trying to take it all in, I find myself outside the lounge. An old friend is walking in. “Johan, I need your help.”
“Well of course, my pet, how can I help?” He hasn’t heard. Excellent.
“Do you remember almost a year ago when you volunteered to be my dearest friend? I have a huge favor to ask.”
“Well, let’s sit down and talk about it over a frosty mug.”
“No, I need you to come with me. I promise I’m not setting you up for anything bad. But I can’t explain right here and now. Do you trust me?”
“I trust you completely. Lead on.” I lead him to the upper decks, which are fortunately, in my opinion, sparsely populated. He does make the occasional remark that I must be doing okay, being this far into “officer’s country.” I open an unlabeled door to my future stateroom and lock it behind us.
“Isn’t this the…” He lets his question go.
“Don’t worry about that. The commander and I are pretty close. If there’s any heat that is generated, I can handle it. You have nothing to worry about. Do you believe me?”
“Of course I believe you. Now why am I here?”
“I need a massage, they are too booked up in Medical, and I can trust you to keep your hands from going where they have no reason to be.”
