I said, “Fur will be co-captain and you the mate.” I continued before his temper could explode. “That makes sense, too, since Fur is the real veterinary technician. He needs to be at my side for all medical activities, whereas you can go off to do other things. After all, who would worry about a mate?”
Levi’s glare intensified. “I am not a ‘mate,’ I am a member of the Rebbinical Council, and don’t you forget that. You can be the Captain in name, but that means nothing. We know who is really in charge, no matter what the titles.”
I smiled at him. “Of course.”
***
About thirty minutes after contact with the Sammaran spaceport, a small, sleek and obviously military spaceship pulled up alongside and extruded a boarding tube to link with our ship. Another disappointment. As a fan of the ancient vid series, Star Trek, I longed to have someone materialize on my deck, accompanied by the famous “Beam me up!” command. Alas, transporter physics had proven to be fictional.
A well-starched young officer greeted us and asked a million questions about who we were, why we were here, what we intended to do on Sammara, and how long we would stay. I assumed he had some sort of recording device, though I could see none. He finished without one change in his expression.
“You will be contacted,” he said and left.
I looked at Fur with raised eyebrows. He shrugged. Levi scowled. We dared not say anything suspect, since we had no idea of Sammaran surveillance technology. The officer could have left the GCVS bugged, for all we knew. So we waited. And waited some more. A day passed before anything happened, and not what I expected.
The comm lit up, and Ruthie’s sultry voice announced, “Galactic Circle Veterinary Service. Thank you for calling. We are here to serve you. Please pay attention since our menu has recently changed. For Captain Cy Berger, press or say one. For Co-Captain Furoletto Cohen, please press or say two. For Mate Levi—”
A gravelly voice broke in. “What the hell is this?” The voice rose. “I am Colonel Glazer. Sammaran security. Who the hell are you?”
Ruthie responded, “Sorry, I did not understand your response. Please press or say one for Capt—”
“I’ll be pressing something you don’t like in one minute. Get me the Captain.” A string of oaths followed.
When I programmed Ruthie’s interface, her name was not the only place where I was creative. I made her sound like a receptionist I’d heard on an ancient vid when everyone had something called telephones. But this comm greeting was not one I had programmed. Where in hell did the AI get it from? Before the colonel’s lack of patience could get any worse, I jumped in. “Um, sorry, Colonel. This is Captain Berger.”
I resisted the urge to announce, “Captain James T. Kirk, here,”—no one would have understood, anyway.
“Captain Berger,” the colonel barked. “Get your ass down here.”
“So we’re cleared to bring the ship in?”
“A ship will pick you up. Just you. It will rendezvous in five minutes. Out.”
Levi had sputtered in the background during this exchange. He now shouted, “I forbid it. You cannot go to the surface alone. I must accompany you. The Rebbinical Council demands it.”
I faced him. “Do you want to call him back?” I jerked my thumb toward the comm board.
He took my meaning and shut up. How could he, as a mate, override his captain and maintain the secrecy his spying demanded?
Levi took a deep breath and walked to the bridge hatch. There he stopped and addressed me. “I want an exact transcription when you return. Use those.” He pointed to a bulkhead compartment and left us.
Levi had stocked a number of tiny recording devices for his own use. I retrieved one and stuck it in a small pocket in the lining of my tunic.
Fur raised one shaggy eyebrow and pulled on his beard. He said nothing, but I sensed his internal laughter.
“Shut up. I know what I’m doing.”
***
The same officer who had questioned us on the GCVS led me through the spaceport. The terminal was far busier than any transportation station I had seen on Dovid’s World. People of every size, shape, and skin color were clothed in tunics and bodysuits of bright pastels and fluorescents never seen on my world, where black was the approved garb. Crowds scurried in and out doors and up and down moving walkways. Some of the old sci-fi vids did not miss by much that this would be a typical spaceport in the future. We left the public area through an exit flanked by two armed guards. The sign read: Official Business Only. We walked until we reached a door marked with a plaque: Colonel Glazer.
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly
My guide opened the door, motioned me inside, and then closed it while staying outside.
A gray-haired woman behind a desk directed me to another office door. When I opened it, a haze that resembled the effluvium from a pile of manure on fire enveloped me. A smoke-shrouded figure spoke. “Well, don’t just stand there like a donkey. Get your ass in here.” He laughed at his own pun.
I stepped forward and held my breath for fear of asphyxiation.
“Shut the goddamned door.”
I did as asked, then took a breath to speak—a mistake. When I stopped coughing, I croaked, “Sir. I’m Cy Berger of the Galactic Circle Veterinary Service.” My heart pounded like racehorse hooves in the stretch run.
“C’mere. Siddown.”
The man sat in an old-fashioned rocking chair, for God’s sake. The smoke emanated from a large brown cylinder that protruded from his mouth. How someone could put something as vile as that in his mouth, much less smoke it, I couldn’t fathom. My stomach clenched, both from the fumes and from my dread.
“Humph. You don’t look like one of them ortho-doxies. I said siddown.”
I found a chair and sat.
“What in hell do you think you’re doing here? We have no love for you Dovidians.” Though his words were angry, I detected underlying amusement. His protracted silence made me realize it was my turn.
I recited the spiel given me by Levi and the Deans about recruiting for the veterinary college and staying away from anything that sounded remotely like it was connected to religion, although my voice quavered and broke like a teenager asking for a first date. The colonel sat poker-faced. When I finished, he pointed to my lapel and pantomimed me to remove something. It took me a moment to realize he not only knew about my recording device, but he wanted me to give it to him. They must have run some sort of body scan. I gave it to him and he put it in a small box on top of his desk.
“That’s all bullshit,” he said.
I swallowed, a sound I imagined the secretary could hear through the closed door. What in hell was going on here? My knees knocked and my hands shook. I clasped my hands between my knees to quiet both.
“Okay. Enough fun and games. Now tell me the truth. This thing won’t pick up anything more,” he gestured at the box, “and we can record some fake crap later. Your government is a bunch of fucking idiots. We’re aware that you have a Test-Lit spy on board, this Reb Schvartz character, and that Cohen is a member of the Sons-of-David resistance. So what the fuck is your role in this goddamned circus?”
I could only imagine my expression as my mind corkscrewed in confusion.
Glazer reached into his desk, pulled out a bottle, and poured dark liquid into a glass. He handed it to me. “If you’re going to sit there with your mouth hanging open, you might as well put something in it. You look like you need this. Drink it.” It wasn’t a request.
I followed orders but coughed up the first swallow. The stuff was vile. Fortunately, I turned to the side and didn’t spray the colonel. Whatever it was, it burned its way down to my already squeamish stomach.
“Don’t you dare puke on my desk. Shit. You guys can’t even take your liquor.” He looked over my head. “Esther. Get in here with a couple of towels. And bring a glass of water.”
Esther came in, gave me the water and a towel, made a few cursory swipes over
the rug with the other towel, then left. She must have watched my performance on a monitor.
I took a drink of water and wiped my chin. I could not believe it. They knew about Levi. What had I gotten into now? Sammaran jail? And Furoletto Cohen a member of the Sons-of-David, the most active underground resistance group to the Test-Lits on Dovid’s World? What was my role? My mind was unable to come up with a response.
Glazer stared at me as his vile beverage tried to claw its way back out of my gut.
“Are you really as clueless as you look? Is that possible?”
I choked out, “I-I’m being blackmailed!”
The colonel sighed. “Let’s have it. The whole story.”
As I spoke, his eyes and mouth tightened. I felt his anger grow, fortunately, not directed at me. I struggled to keep my empathic shields intact.
His voice was less harsh when he addressed me. “Let me tell you what you are going to do next.”
***
Sammara, colonized later than Dovid’s World, was farther from NewSol and had a colder climate. It had a much smaller population, most living in the equatorial region. When the Test-Lits invaded, the Sammarans called for help, and several other worlds from different star systems responded. This led to an ignominious back-down by the Dovidians. There was no love between the two worlds, as Glazer had said.
Most émigrés from my home first ended up on Sammara. The Test-Lits had driven out not only those of other religions, but many liberal Jews as well, before they clamped down on travel. Sammara had a large Jewish population. Judaic sects were varied, including Reform, Conservative, and Orthodox, but the more traditional and reasonable forms of the latter than the Test-Lits’ evangelical fundamentalism. A much broader range of humanity and religions had settled the world, as well. Since the invasion, Sammara had expanded its military, not enough to take on the Test-Lits alone, but enough to hold them off until their allies could respond.
Colonel Glazer was reluctant to have Reb Levi step foot on Sammara, but he did want Fur to have an opportunity to contact the Sons-of-David command on the planet. Since Levi was unlikely to allow us to go anywhere without him, Glazer suggested an option and said he would make it happen. I returned to the GCVS.
That night, I cornered Fur in his cabin. “Furoletto Cohen. You lied to me. You’re a Son-of-David and a son-of-a-bitch to boot. You’re putting my family and me in danger. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
His face grew red. His voice was a low rumble—soft for him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t like to deceive you, but it was necessary. The SOD kept an eye on you after we first met. Some in our party thought to recruit you for your brilliance, and you obviously believe as we do. But because you were in the Rebbinical Council’s sights and because of your tendency to be...less than circumspect, it was too risky to sign you up.”
“Crap. I don’t give a damn about your Sons-of-David. I care about my parents. And me. If the Council thinks that I had anything to do with this—”
“Cy, when you told me you were offered this job, it was too good an opportunity to pass up. The SOD leaders wanted to keep watch on your overseer. My veterinary and mechanical background was perfect for that. I could stand up to the Council’s scrutiny.
“Schvartz made it clear to me that he’s in charge of this expedition. He didn’t tell me he was a spy, but he insinuated that.” Fur grimaced. “The man can’t help but crow about how important he is. I’ll stay undercover and not do anything to threaten your situation.”
“You’ll stay undercover? How will you do that with Reb Levi poking his nose into every nook and cranny? You’re going to get us killed.”
“Calm down. I promise—”
“You promise?” I shouted.
Fur winced, and I realized I could draw Levi’s attention. I lowered my voice. “I don’t trust your promises. You lied to me once, how do I know you’re not lying to me now?” I stopped ranting, drew a deep breath, and let it out. “God help us both—if He isn’t on the Test-Lits’ side.”
I turned and stalked from Fur’s cabin. I slammed the hatch behind me. From a simple student with no greater goals than a rural veterinary practice when I graduated, I had become a subject of the Inquisition, the patsy for a Testamentary-Literalist spy, and now the cover for a counterspy. I faced an interstellar voyage sandwiched between a sadistic representative of the government I hated and a member of the underground resistance that I could not afford to support.
I sure hoped God would help me.
***
Ruthie set the GCVS down on a vacant pad at the edge of the spaceport outside of Sammarak, the capital city. A young man in a blue and white uniform met us when we disembarked.
“Captain Berger? I’m Lieutenant Clarrett. I’ve been assigned to assist you.”
Reb Levi frowned, muttered something inaudible, and started to walk toward the terminal. Clarrett’s jaw clenched, and the muscle bulged and twitched as he watched the rebbe move away.
I glanced at Fur. I had not spoken to him since the previous night and did not intend to now. As repugnant as Levi was, at least he had never lied to me. In the back of my mind, I realized the ridiculousness of that thought, but my anger submerged the absurdity.
Clarrett quickly caught up to the rebbe. Fur and I followed.
After a quick tour of the terminal so we could find our way around later—the busy concourses, shops, hotels, and administrative offices were well-marked—another officer named Ranu joined us. I didn’t catch his rank, but he had one less stripe on his sleeve than the lieutenant. We headed into town on a monorail.
Clarrett engaged Reb Levi in conversation and was quite civil despite Levi’s petulant manner and his known history.
We passed through well-kept farmland before we entered the city proper. The buildings were relatively new, mostly plastrete structures with lots of glass. Gleaming hovercraft swooped along tree-lined roadways and occasional aircraft glided overhead. This activity, far greater than the norm for Dovid’s World, suggested that Sammara’s economy well exceeded our own.
“This section of town is new,” Ranu said to Fur and me. “It was destroyed in the invasion thirty years ago and rebuilt.” He said this in a flat tone as he stared out the window.
I looked over at Levi, but he and Clarrett were talking and had not heard the comment. Out of curiosity, I kept one ear directed toward the Clarrett-Levi dialog.
“...and you do not worry about security issues outside the spaceport? Interesting. What about your standing armed forces, don’t you use those for security in the city?” Levi’s spying was so obvious it was comical.
Clarrett said, “No. We keep our standing forces to a minimum. It costs far too much to maintain a large army and navy when they aren’t needed.”
“Yes, I see.” Levi’s head bobbed up and down as he unsuccessfully attempted to suppress a predatory grin as they discussed military and security issues.
Stunned, I wrenched my attention away from the two. Ranu asked me a question I didn’t catch. “Sorry, what was that?”
A smile fleeted over Ranu’s lips. “What in particular would you like to see today? Are you interested in entertainment? Shopping? Sightseeing? We’ll get off at the city center.”
“Uh, sightseeing is fine,” I replied.
We got off the rail at the center of town, and Clarrett and Ranu pointed out some of the sights. Again, the buildings were new and modern.
“This is the tallest building on the planet,” Clarrett said. He pointed upward. “One hundred and ten floors. Graphsteel reinforced, like all of our new buildings. The glass facing is nano reinforced, as well. It’s commercial, but the top ten floors have luxury condominiums—and I mean luxury.” He laughed. “A week in one of those would cost me half a year’s salary. Let’s walk around to the next block.” He surreptitiously glanced at Levi. “There’s something I think you might be interested in.”
I caught a brief grin from Ranu.
As we moved through the cr
owds, people entered and exited businesses all along the street. Besides the color of garb, the thing that struck me most was the absence of head coverings on most of the men. Ancient Jewish law required a man to cover his head during prayer, although a head covering at other times for Orthodox males was custom. On Dovid’s World, while not required by law, the vast majority of males wore hats or yarmulkes, even outside of synagogue. While neither Fur nor I wore a head covering when not in prayer, Levi would not dispense with his hat or yarmulke, undermining his ridiculous masquerade.
The lieutenant, the rebbe, and I forged ahead of Ranu and Fur. Still fascinated by the dynamics between the two men, I did not want to miss anything.
“And these buildings are designed to resist bombardment, you say?” Levi asked.
How could he be any more transparent? I couldn’t believe him.
“Oh, yes.” Clarrett looked at Levi with a bland expression. “We have learned from our experience.”
That comment seemed to fly right over Levi’s head.
“Here, this is our main military intelligence center,” Clarrett said.
We stood in front of a plastrete and graphsteel building that had few windows. Levi’s mouth hung open and his eyes glazed over.
Clarrett grimaced as he watched the rebbe. I saw the muscle in his jaw bulge and twitch again, but he swallowed and spoke, “Would you like to go in?”
Was this really their intelligence center? Levi was so eager that he was laughable. I mulled over Clarrett’s performance. It had to be a sham, a ploy to feed Levi a bunch of false information.
I looked around for Fur and Ranu, but they were nowhere in sight. I turned to Clarrett. “Hey, what happened to Ranu and Fur?”
At my words, Levi spun around. “What do you mean?”
I bit my tongue, hard. The ferric tang of blood forced me to swallow and collect my wits before I responded. I knew that Fur would be spirited away for an SOD meeting, but my mouth overrode my brain again. When would I learn?
“Um...well...they were right behind us.” I wanted to crawl down the nearest sewer drain.
The Galactic Circle Veterinary Service Page 4
