Tanner finally went to his room. He made a list of the things he wanted from the hideaway. They were going to travel a long way to reach the rim. He still didn’t like the idea of hibernating for most of the voyage there in hyperspace. Maybe Acton had a plan to wake up and fiddle with the raider while the rest of them slept.
Tanner stared at his list. He was remembering Maximus’s death. He imagined the Special Intelligence people would have gladly had Maximus live. All the consul had to do was spill his guts about everything. Sure, social unity theory produced an awful system of mind control with a world police state. In the end, though, the Coalition would fall as every human institution eventually did. Having the Coalition win didn’t mean the end of humanity. If the cyborgs won, though…
Had Maximus made the right decision killing himself to keep the plan secret?
Tanner snorted. When Maximus had made his decision, had he been in full control of his own mind?
The centurion shook his head. There was too much about the enterprise he didn’t know or understand. If this was so terribly critical to human life, why stake everything on a small Gladius-class raider? That didn’t ring right.
Tanner picked up his list, staring at the words but seeing Acton’s emotionless features in his mind’s eye. Could the Shand have mind-controlled Marcus and Ursa Varus? It sure seemed like a possibility.
Tanner slapped the list onto the table. This was insane. He was just a centurion from a small planet.
Maximus had asked him once if he’d gone to the Academy or had any advanced degrees. Tanner smirked. Him go to school? Right! He was the street kid with too much curiosity, with too much bone in his skull so he slammed his head into wall after wall. He’d lived by his wits or fists for a long time. He wasn’t a deep thinker like Acton or an airy-fairy intellectual like Greco.
You’re it, Tanner. If you screw up, it might be good night for humanity.
He frowned. Did that sound right? Could the stakes be that astronomical? It seemed farfetched.
He drummed his fingers on the table. Who was Ursa Varus? Did she work for Remus Intelligence? Was her tall tale a cover story for what was really going on—whatever that happened to be?
Yeah, Acton’s speech and behavior made him seem like a freak. Did that necessarily mean he was an alien though?
Throughout humanity’s spread across the galaxy, Tanner never remembered hearing about real aliens. Humans made their own aliens like the cyborgs or small human colonies were cut off for thousands of years. During that time, the people changed enough with genetic drift to become…well, like the apemen of Avernus. But true-to-life nonhuman aliens, no sir, Tanner had never heard of those before this.
“That doesn’t mean aliens can’t be real,” Tanner told himself.
He stood up. He examined the list of goodies on the table. Then, he headed for the exit. It was time for a showdown with Lord high and mighty Acton.
The one thing I’m going to do is play this game for keeps. If everything depends on me, then, by the Lord’s grace, I’m going to give it my all.
***
Tanner found Acton in the rec room.
The sound of billiard balls clacking had stopped the centurion in the hall. The Dark Star did not have artificial gravity nor did the raider accelerate to produce pseudo-gravity. How then could anyone be playing billiards?
Tanner found Lord Acton floating around the green-cloth table, lining up a shot as he floated. Acton struck the cue ball. It rolled across the table and hit the five ball. The five rolled into a pocket, sinking out of sight.
Acton should have floated back just a little. He did not. He remained in his horizontal shooting position.
“How are you doing any of that?” Tanner asked.
Acton glanced at him. “Captain, your curiosity is showing. You positively wear it on your sleeve I believe is the correct idiom.”
“No one likes a smart-aleck, Your Highness.”
Acton cocked his head. “Ah. You are indulging in your personal witticisms.”
Tanner shook his head. “Look. Maybe you’re trying to get me angry.” He shook his head again. “How are you getting the balls to stay on the table? Did you magnetize them or something?”
“That is correct.”
Tanner pushed toward the table.
“Careful, Captain,” Acton said. “I urge you to avoid floating over the table.”
Tanner reached out, catching himself on the edge of the pool table. “Are you telling me you have localized gravity control?”
“I did not tell you, but you have guessed it.”
Holding onto the pool table, Tanner pushed himself to the floor. He saw a low, bulky object under the table that normally didn’t belong there.
“It’s humming,” Tanner said.
“Once it ceases to hum, the game ends.”
Tanner straightened himself vertically to regard Acton. “You should have set this up sooner. Greco and I love to play. It helps pass the time.”
“You distress me, Captain.”
“Are you trying to make a joke?”
Acton regarded him.
“You’re saying it distresses you because that makes you just a little bit like us,” Tanner said.
“How remarkable,” Acton said. “Your mind is more agile than one is at first led to believe by your mannerisms.”
Tanner figured it was time to cut the dilly-dallying. “You’re not human, are you?” he asked.
Acton stared at him.
“You’re not a bad mimic, though. I’ll give you that. One piece of advice: don’t tell people they have simian curiosity or call the Lithians beasts. That’s kind of a dead giveaway you’re not human.”
Acton shifted his horizontal position, lining up another shot on the table.
“Is it hard for you to spend time with humans?”
“Your objective is obvious but futile, this trying to needle me,” Acton said. “I do not react in the ways you expect. If I become truly tired of you…I will not make snappy phrases in reply but react with deadly intent against you.”
“Maybe we can work together after all, as that’s how I respond, too. You’re just like me, Acton.”
The Shand gave Tanner a dead-eyed stare.
How did I ever think he could be human? He wears his face like a mask. Another chilling thought struck Tanner. Maybe the greasy hand before was a natural alien process. He’d thought Acton had pre-slimed his hand with mind-grease. Maybe the slime automatically oozed from Acton’s pores like a bug squirting a defensive spray.
“Is there a secondary reason for your presence here?” Acton asked.
“Yeah. I have a question. Is Lacy human or one of you?”
“Lacy is no concern of yours.”
“If she’s human with a control unit in her brain like you’ve put in the Lithians—”
“Captain, perhaps it is time for some ground rules between us. I have need of your vessel and a limited use of your expertise. That expertise is not vital, however. In case you have missed my meaning—”
“I get it. You’re threatening me.”
“Merely because that seems to be the kind of behavior you desire. The Lithians and Lacy are outside your…your need of concern. They belong to me. Hmm. Perhaps you can understand it better this way. They are my property.”
“You’re saying they’re your slaves?” Tanner asked.
“I spoke in Remus terminology for your benefit. You were capitalists, I believe, with a profound concern for private property. Consider Lacy and the Lithians as my private property.”
“We call that slavery, which I abhor.”
“While I abhor useless chatter,” Acton said. “Yet, sometimes, for the sake of the greater good, I allow myself to enter the maelstrom of idle talk.”
“Is Lacy human?” Tanner asked again.
It hardly seemed possible, but Acton’s features grew stiffer. He set the cue stick onto the table. It lay there as if in the grip of gravity. With a slight push, Ac
ton straightened his body vertically.
“Your hectoring has become tedious,” Acton announced.
“Why can’t you answer the question? It could solve—”
A klaxon began to blare. Both Tanner and Acton turned toward the noise. A click sounded over the rec room comm.
“Tanner,” Greco said over the comm. “I need you in the control room. You’d better hurry, boss.”
“Saved by the bell,” Tanner muttered under his breath. As he propelled himself down the corridor, he wondered which one of them the alarm had saved.
-24-
“What’s the problem?” Tanner asked, as he slid into his seat from above. He buckled in as Greco pointed at the flight screen.
Tanner looked up at Greco. “We’re half a minute from coming out of hyperspace.”
“Yes.”
“That can’t be right.”
“Not according to our previous calculations,” Greco said.
“What happened differently?”
“You already know the answer, boss. We entered hyperspace at speeds greater than anyone has knowingly tried before.”
Tanner absorbed the information in silence. “Are you suggesting our greater speed has propelled us faster through hyperspace? I thought it didn’t matter how fast one went into hyperspace.”
“What other hypotheses do you have?” Greco asked.
“None.”
“I only have one other theory,” Greco told him.
“Let’s hear it.”
“It’s too late. Get ready, boss, as I didn’t have time to get everything right yet for reentry into normal space.”
Tanner understood the problem. They’d had a tough time coming into hyperspace and would therefore likely have a tough time coming out. Greco had been working to change that. Their sooner than expected reentry had thrown off the apeman’s timetable.
Tanner swore softly under his breath. With a flick of a switch, he opened ship’s channels. “Sorry for being so abrupt, but we’re about to come out of hyperspace. This could get dicey. So get ready, captain out.”
The moment he shut off the intra-ship comm, Dark Star began shaking horribly and making the same metallic groaning noises as before.
Tanner hung on. This was crazy. He’d never heard of anyone having trouble entering and leaving hyperspace. Could there be speed settings to entering the strange realm? Maybe no one had entered hyperspace as fast as the raider had.
For the next minute, Greco played with the controls, tapping, waiting and tapping more. By degrees, he lessened the rattling and hull stresses. Finally, it stopped altogether.
“We made it,” Tanner said.
“We’re out of hyperspace. That’s true. Did we make it to the Petrus System, though?”
“Right,” Tanner said. He began studying the constellations, matching them on the computer. Finally, he focused on the nearest star.
“G-class star dead ahead,” Tanner said. “There’s only one gas giant in the outer system. I see two inner planets and one vast asteroid field.” He grinned at Greco. “We did it. We’re here, just outside the Petrus System.”
“Do you realize what this means?” Greco asked.
“That we can start on the next phase of his crazy mission,” Tanner said.
“No, well yes,” Greco said. “This is a new discovery.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’ve found a way to travel faster through hyperspace. No one thought that was possible.”
“No humans did. It would appear the Shands have known for some time.”
Greco grew thoughtful. “I wonder what else Acton can do that we think is impossible.”
Tanner told the apeman about the pool table and localized gravity control. He’d already spoken with Greco about the talk with Ursa. The centurion then told him about the exchange of threats between Acton and him.
“I don’t know, boss. I don’t think I’d screw around with the Shand like you do with most people. For one thing, he’s not people. Acton is something different with different responses. Usually, you know when to back down. You probably won’t recognize the danger signs with Acton. I think you should stay away from him for now.”
Tanner didn’t respond. This was his ship. He didn’t like the idea of having to stay away from anyone on his ship.
“Maybe Acton had better keep out of my way,” Tanner said.
“Can you do impossible things, boss?”
Tanner grinned. “Did you ever see me fly across the ground and take out a crap-load of Coalition space marines?”
Greco studied him. “I did, and I thought you should have been wearing a cape at the time. Okay. Maybe Lord Acton should stay out of your way.”
“Damn straight,” Tanner said.
Greco glanced at the flight screen. “So how should we do this, boss? Are we going in at this velocity or should we slow it down some so our burn isn’t as massive at the end?”
“Good question,” Tanner said. He considered the various factors. “Let’s slow down a little first, and then a little more once we’re in the system. They’ll be watching us soon enough. We don’t want them to think we entered hyperspace faster than ordinary. That will make them suspicious.”
“If I remember last time right, everything makes these Petrus people suspicious.”
“Yeah,” Tanner said. “But I guess they have a good reason to be.” He opened intra-ship channels to begin explaining the situation to the others.
***
They decelerated hard for a time and then decelerated at half that speed later.
“We’re running dangerously short of fuel,” Tanner noticed.
“Petrus System is expensive, boss. If we have to purchase fuel here, too—”
“It would be good to know what we have for currency,” Tanner said, interrupting. “I’m going add that to my list of things to know.”
Dark Star continued the process of coasting toward the inner asteroid belt. The Petrus System was closer to the rim than any of the other star systems they’d been to so far. All sorts of vagabonds, romantics, crime lords, drug dealers, chop shop artists—pirates in space terms—and other nefarious people gravitated to the Petrus Hideaway. One of its chief defenses was its distance from the habitable systems. The other was the asteroid field, with its unusual density. The reason why the various rocks were so close to each other was that they used to all belong to one giant planet. Before man had ever ventured into space, a disaster or a disastrous war had taken place out here. No one knew what had happened. Could Acton know the reason for the destroyed planet?
Tanner asked Ursa about that, bumping into her in the galley.
Lupus waited nearby, his gaze glued to Tanner.
“No hard feelings, hey fellow,” Tanner said to the underman.
The hand gripping the belted baton whitened.
“Please, Centurion,” Ursa said, “don’t harass my guard.”
“It’s a reflex, I guess,” Tanner said. “If you grew up where I did…you know what I’m saying.”
“I suppose so,” she said, sitting down with a tray of food. They were under one G declaration at the moment.
Tanner grabbed a cup of chili, raising his eyebrows as he stood at the table waiting.
“Please, join me,” Ursa said. Lupus had positioned himself behind her.
Tanner sat down and soon stirred his chili. It needed extra spice, but he didn’t feel like getting up to get it. As they ate, Tanner asked her about Acton knowing the reason for the dense Petrus asteroid belt.
“That’s an interesting thought,” Ursa said. “I don’t know the answer. I wouldn’t ask Acton, though. He’s become more reclusive lately. Have you noticed?”
“Maybe I have.”
She gave him a closer study. “Tell me what happened between you two.”
Tanner figured this was more of a request than an order, so he told her about the rec-room incident.
Ursa shook her head afterward. “You have a destructive streak,
needling a Shand like that.”
Tanner shrugged.
“You have to watch yourself with Acton. Please, no more needling.”
“What if he’s a cyborg?” Tanner asked suddenly
“What? No. He’s not.”
“How do you know he’s not?”
“Because he’s a Shand,” Ursa said, smiling. “That explains his more-than-human strength and his strange manners.”
“Being a cyborg would explain that too,” Tanner said.
“You’re right, of course, but I happen to know he’s an alien.”
“And Lacy,” he said, “what is she?”
“Lacy is whatever Acton is,” Ursa said. “Why, do you find Lacy attractive?”
“You know,” Tanner said, as if thinking about it for the first time, “I do.”
Ursa stiffened the slightest bit and pushed her food away. “I believe I’m done.” She made to get up.
“Wait a minute,” Tanner said, reaching for a hand.
Lupus reacted without any sound. At the last second, Tanner saw something out of the corner of his eye. He threw himself backward. Thus, the swinging baton only struck him a glancing blow instead of a killing blow to the skull. The baton-knock sent Tanner tumbling sideways off the chair onto the floor.
“Lupus, no!” Ursa shouted.
The underman wasn’t listening this time. Lupus leaped onto the table and jumped at Tanner. The centurion rolled as the booted feet hit the floor. The baton hissed in a downward stroke. Tanner tried to dodge. The baton struck his shoulder, numbing that arm.
“Lupus!” Ursa screamed. “Back! Go back! Stop this at once.”
With a roar, Lupus kicked Tanner in the stomach. It made the centurion groan in pain. The underman snarled, raising the baton for another head strike.
Sensing the immediacy of death, Tanner groped for his gun only to find that he wasn’t wearing it today. Instead, his fingers curled around the hilt of his monofilament knife. The blade came free with a jerk. Tanner slashed as the underman swung down. The monofilament blade struck first, slicing through Lupus’s left ankle as if it didn’t exist. Then the baton struck, although it had lost most of its power. The knock dazed Tanner just the same, making it hard for him to see.
Star Raider Page 16
