Eternity's End

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Eternity's End Page 7

by Jeffrey Carver


  "Not to speak of. That's why we thought perhaps the original materials—"

  "Ahh. Those may be a tr-r-rifle difficult to locate. But if you would like to wait—?"

  The librarian rose with a flutter and disappeared down the hall. When she returned, a few minutes later, she seemed agitated. "I've spoken to the archives director. Those were very old papers, and I'm afraid they were removed from the collection some years ago." She puffed a few times.

  Harriet cocked her head curiously. "I'm sorry to hear that. Is anything wrong, Adaria?"

  "What? Ffff—no. That is, I don't think so. It's just that the question seemed to disturb the director for some reason. I don't know why." The librarian nervously fluffed a vestigial wing.

  "I see," Harriet said, frowning. "Would you happen to know why the papers were removed?"

  Adaria looked uncertain. "Lack of demand, is the usual reason. If no one was interested, they wouldn't be kept forever."

  Legroeder stirred. "That seems odd. It was a Faber Eridani ship. Wouldn't someone be interested in the legend—for tourist value, if nothing else?"

  "An inter-r-resting question," said the Fabri. "I recall there were some private press items written on the subject. But they never generated much interest. We don't even have copies here."

  Harriet rubbed her chin, as the librarian shrugged. "Tell me. When the materials were removed, would they have been destroyed?"

  "Well—fffff—that's difficult to know. It's been years."

  "If they weren't destroyed, what would have been done with them?"

  Adaria clucked thoughtfully. "It's possible they were passed on to a smaller, more specialized collection. That sometimes happens with outdated mater-r-rials."

  "And would there be a way to find out who they might have been passed on to?"

  Adaria consulted her compad. "Ffff—herrre's a thought. Those small prrress items I mentioned? Several of them were wr-r-ritten and published by a R-r-robert McGinnis."

  Harriet turned her hands up. "Do you know this man?"

  "I know of him," Adaria said. "He is a p-r-rivate collector of archives, with a special interest in materials dating from the War of a Thousand Suns. He has a reputation as a r-recluse, but his collection is well regarded. Let me see if his location is available... Fffff, yes. Would you like it?"

  "Please," said Harriet. She placed the ring on her right hand against the edge of the librarian's compad. Then she nodded. "Thank you, Adaria. You've been most helpful."

  The librarian rose, her wings fluttering. "It's always a pleasure, Mrs. Mahoney. Perhaps next time we can rrresearch some, ffff, Iliution gems. We have some wonderful new materials on them. Wonderful materials."

  Harriet smiled. "Perhaps next time." She gestured to Legroeder. "Shall we?"

  Legroeder nodded politely to the Fabri librarian and followed Harriet back through the halls and out of the building. "Was that worthwhile?" he asked, squinting in the bright midmorning sun, now bluish in tint.

  "We'll find out, I suppose." Harriet hummed for a few moments. "Adaria is a dear, and always helpful. I've done some work for her people, you know—the Fabri natives have problems from time to time with our brand of civilization—including extremist groups like Centrist Strength encroaching on their land and bothering them because they can get away with it. I've been able to give them some legal advice on occasion."

  Legroeder glanced at her, surprised. "You get around, don't you? And so does Centrist Strength, it sounds like."

  Harriet shrugged, frowning. "There's a lot that goes on that you wouldn't suspect—even if you were here for more than just the occasional port of call." Before he could react, she waved him around a corner. "Would you like to look in on your friend in the hospital? I'll see what I can learn about Mr. McGinnis, and we can meet in that lovely coffee shop around the corner from the hospital..."

  * * *

  Legroeder sat motionless, his hand resting near Maris's arm. He watched her sleep in the hydrobed, thinking, Sleep. She's asleep. Better to think that than the other. That she's in a coma. Being slowly suffocated by those damned implants. The burns on her face and neck leered at him from under the clear bandages. She got me out of the raider outpost alive. She slowed up the guards for us—even with the shots she took herself. He shook his head grimly.

  He wished he could give her a chance to escape now. Escape from this hospital room. From the shadow of death. He rested his head back against the hospital room wall and closed his eyes, willing away the feeling of helplessness—not just about Maris, but about whatever was behind his own troubles. How many enemies can one guy have, anyway? He hated to think.

  "Mr. Legroeder?"

  He opened his eyes. "Yes?"

  It was an attending robot. "I'm sorry, but your visiting time is up."

  He rose with a sigh. "You'll send word if there's any change?"

  "Of course, sir."

  Legroeder uttered a silent prayer in the direction of his companion, and walked off in search of Harriet.

  * * *

  He found her at a back table in the coffee shop, her compad plugged into the wall. "Ah, there you are," she said. "I was starting to worry. Don't sit down, we're leaving."

  "Huh? Where are we going?" He'd been looking forward to a good strong Eridani coffee with marsotz cream.

  "To the aircar rental."

  Legroeder blinked in confusion.

  Harriet rose, packing her compad. "I've rented a flyer to take us for a visit to our Mr. McGinnis."

  "That was fast. Have you talked to him?"

  Harriet shook her head. "Mr. McGinnis doesn't have a listed com number. But I've made a few inquiries. Very reclusive man, it seems—but respected by those who know of him. He's a former space-marine." She urged Legroeder toward the door. "He also has the planet's most complete set of archives from the War of a Thousand Suns. Besides which, he has a special interest in rigging history." Harriet smiled grimly. "Let's just hope he doesn't mind surprise visitors."

  Chapter 6

  Historical Truths

  The McGinnis estate was located four hundred and thirty kilometers northwest of the Elmira spaceport, a little over an hour's flight at the speed of a rental flyer. The countryside flowing beneath them was wooded and green. The autopilot seemed confident of finding the address, so Legroeder and Harriet didn't have much to do except drink their coffee and worry.

  Legroeder asked Harriet why, if she had been so obsessed (her word) with this case for the last seven years, she had never researched the history of Impris before.

  Harriet looked at Legroeder with amusement. "You aren't accustomed to solving puzzles, are you, dear?"

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "Well, think about it. How would I have known, until you came back, that Impris was even involved? I'm almost as interested in knowing why that information was taken from the library as I am in knowing about the ship itself. Was it innocent, or was someone deliberately hiding it? And if the latter, why? Once we know that, I think we'll be closer to understanding why you were framed."

  Legroeder shrugged. "The librarian said if the documents weren't being used—"

  Harriet laughed. "If you don't mind my saying so, you must have made a very poor pirate."

  Legroeder felt his face redden.

  "Oh, don't take it as an insult. It's a compliment. You don't seem to have a duplicitous bone in your body. But I'm reasonably sure those papers were removed because someone wanted them gone. Now we just have to find out if someone else wanted them preserved."

  "Someone like Mr. McGinnis?"

  "Let us hope so." With that, Harriet closed her eyes to rest, and Legroeder drank his coffee in silence. He gazed out the window, watching a winding river snake to and fro beneath them. Scanning for traffic, he saw another craft, higher in altitude, following a parallel course, and a couple of others crossing their path like fast-moving bugs against the sky.

  It wasn't much longer before he felt the flyer begin its des
cent. He searched for their destination, nestled somewhere in the wooded land below. The flyer began to bank and turn for its approach. There was the glint of the river again, a smaller stream to the west of it, and the occasional rocky bluff poking up out of the woods. The flyer seemed to know what it was doing, but Legroeder kept checking the console map to verify the course. The position readings seemed right. As he sat back, he realized that Harriet was watching him with amusement. He tried to feign unconcern.

  Out the window on Harriet's side, he saw another flyer, a little higher, apparently also circling to land. "Look," he said, pointing to the other craft, which was trailing a little behind now, and falling back out of his view. He couldn't tell if it was the same one he'd seen before, but he felt a prickle of unease. "They look like they're headed to the same place."

  Harriet craned her neck to see. "What's that puff of smoke?"

  "What puff of smoke?" Legroeder leaned over Harriet to look out the far window. The other craft had dropped even further back, and something was shooting forward from it, leaving a contrail of smoke. It was arcing directly toward them. "Jesus Christ, Harriet!"

  "What?"

  "Hang on!" Legroeder shouted, groping for the autopilot release. The flyer lurched and nosed down abruptly as he grabbed the yoke. He wasn't used to this kind of craft, and it dove alarmingly as he struggled to regain control. Legroeder banked hard to the left, then started to bring up the nose. The missile streaked past and exploded with a whump! The flyer slipped sideways, bucking. Legroeder cursed, fighting with the damaged controls. They were in a steep left bank and spiraling steeper.

  He fought to level it out of the bank, then gradually pulled up the nose. He didn't want to crash, but didn't want to stay an easy target, either. "Look for a clearing!" he shouted. "Any clearing! And see if you can find that other ship!" They were dropping like a stone now, the power inductors losing strength. In less than a minute, they were going to plow into the forest.

  "There!" cried Harriet, pointing to the right. "There's a clearing! No, you're turning away from it!"

  He didn't answer. He was too busy trying to bring them around. As he glanced up, he saw the other flyer circling.

  "There it is again!"

  Their turn had brought the clearing back into view. A large house stood in the middle of it—probably the McGinnis estate. "Good—good—" Legroeder muttered. He fought to control the descent. They had too much airspeed and were in danger of overshooting.

  "Legroeder, I think that flyer's attacking again!"

  He shoved the nose down to drop them fast and hot toward the clearing. The other craft was coming around...

  They skidded sideways as he banked left, then right. He thumbed the com. "Mayday, Mayday, Mayday! We are under attack!" He glanced backward at the other flyer, just in time to see it peel off at high speed. Apparently its occupants didn't want to be seen by witnesses.

  "We're not going to make it," Harriet said nervously.

  "Yes, we are," Legroeder said, as they careened over the house and low over the forest again. He began a new turn, trying to coax some additional power out of the propulsion. The inductors wheezed a little, then slowly oozed back to life. He banked in a slow hundred-and-eighty-degree turn, back toward the clearing. He had just enough power to maintain control. "Good... good..." he murmured, leveling onto a straight course for the clearing. There was some crosswind. He compensated, then brought the nose up a little, and settled into a final approach. That was when he noticed the faint glitter of a forcefield over the clearing. Oh shit.

  The com blared to life. "Unidentified craft approaching McGinnis estate, identify and state your purpose!"

  He thumbed the com and rattled, "This is the flyer, Legroeder and Mahoney aboard. Mayday! We're disabled, sinking fast, and your clearing is the only place to land."

  "I just tracked a missile. If you're in a fight, take it elsewhere."

  "Mr. McGinnis, we're falling out of the sky! We didn't come to fight! We urgently request clearance to land!"

  There was a pause that lasted forever. "Very well, you may land. But I warn you, my defensive lasers are charged."

  Legroeder was too busy flying to answer. Harriet pressed the switch on her side and said, "You'll get no trouble from us. We were attacked, and we don't know by whom. We need your help!"

  "I'm shutting off the forcefield. Land to the west of the house. It's smoother there." The sparkle of the forcefield vanished from the air, and a man came running from the house, waving them toward the far side of the clearing.

  The ground was coming up fast. Legroeder ballooned the power from the inductors, and they slowed, wobbling. They slammed, bounced, and lurched to a stop. He cut the power, and looked at Harriet. Her face was pale as she gasped, "Damn, Legroeder—that was good flying! Thank you."

  "You're welcome," Legroeder whispered, his throat dry. He glanced out at the approaching man. "I don't think this gent is too happy about it, though." Legroeder popped open the door and allowed fresh air to blow across them before he released the seat restraints.

  As they climbed out, the man was scanning the sky, shading his eyes with one hand. A large brown dog, some kind of retriever, had come to join him, and was standing alertly at his side.

  Legroeder, too, studied the sky. He saw no sign of their attacker. Keeping a wary eye on the dog, Legroeder greeted their host—a short, stocky man with black eyebrows that set off his grim features. "Robert McGinnis?"

  "Yeah. That flyer that shot at you took off toward the west." McGinnis pointed over the treetops, where the edge of the forcefield was glittering; evidently he had switched it back on already. "Mind telling me what the hell's going on?"

  "We're not quite sure," Harriet said, breathing hard. "But thank you for allowing us to land."

  The retriever, ears raised, was sniffing the air around them. "That'll do, Rufus," McGinnis said, snapping his fingers. The dog, lifting his nose one last time, circled back to McGinnis's side. "Well... I didn't seem to have much choice." McGinnis rubbed his chin. "Except to let you crash in the woods."

  "We're grateful you didn't," Harriet said.

  "No doubt you are. No doubt you are." McGinnis pointed to the side of the flyer near the main inductor cowling, where a meter-long burn mark showed the lasershrap hit from the exploding missile. "I'm not overjoyed at having missiles fired over my property. Is there an explanation for this?"

  Legroeder bent to inspect the damage, sobered to see just how close they had come to being blown out of the sky. "We'll tell you what we know. But it's not much." He hesitated, then stuck out a hand. "I'm Renwald Legroeder, and this is Harriet Mahoney."

  "Legroeder," McGinnis said grimly, resting his own hands on his hips. "Rigger Legroeder?"

  Legroeder let his hand drop. "You've heard of me?"

  Harriet forced a chuckle. "You've been in the news, Legroeder. I'm sure even out here, Mr. McGinnis has heard of your case."

  "Well," McGinnis said. "I don't pay a lot of attention. But I have heard of you." He cocked his head. "They say you were responsible for handing over a ship to Golen Space pirates."

  Legroeder felt a flash of anger, but Harriet put a calming hand on his arm. "That is what I am accused of," he said grudgingly.

  McGinnis barked a laugh. "Well, I didn't say I believed it, did I?" He stared out into the woods for a moment. "Did you all come out here to see me? If you did, it was a risky thing to do."

  "Apparently so," Legroeder agreed.

  McGinnis turned to Harriet. "And your name was—"

  "Harriet Mahoney. I'm assisting Legroeder in trying to prove his innocence." Harriet adjusted her glasses as she returned McGinnis's gaze. Either she had recovered quickly from the trauma of the attack, or she was hiding it well. "We undertook this... visit... because we were hoping you could help us."

  "Is that so? And what gives you that hope?"

  As McGinnis cocked his head, Legroeder observed that the man's left eye was synthetic; then he realized that a go
od portion of the man's face was synthetic. Legroeder's glance did not go unnoticed, but McGinnis said nothing.

  "I apologize if we were mistaken," Harriet said. "But your name came up in some research we were doing. You are known as a collector of historical materials on the subject of rigging—particularly materials dating back a century or so. As it happens, we are very much in need of information from that period."

  "In order to prove Rigger Legroeder's innocence?"

  "Precisely." Harriet patted her forehead with a handkerchief. "Mr. McGinnis, do you suppose that we could step out of the sun somewhere? I'm feeling rather faint, after that close call we just had."

  McGinnis grunted, not answering. He bent to make a closer examination of the scorched side of the flyer. When he straightened up, he had a troubled look on his face. He again gazed up into the sky, as though struggling with some decision. And then, as quickly as the cloud had come over him, he relaxed. "Yes, of course. I'm being a poor host. You both must be shaken up. That was a very fine landing under the circumstances, Rigger Legroeder."

  "Thank you. Just Legroeder will be fine."

  "Legroeder, then," said McGinnis. A smile worked at his lips. "I guess there's someone out there who doesn't like you much. Or maybe doesn't like lawyers," he added with a glance at Harriet.

  Harriet's eyes gleamed. "Did I mention that I was a lawyer?"

  McGinnis looked startled. Another shadow seemed to cross his brow. "Now that you mention it, I don't recall. I—suppose I must have seen your name in the... news, too. Let's go inside, shall we?"

  As they walked to the house, he spoke to his dog. "Stay and watch out here, Rufus." The retriever trotted to take up a position under a tree, and stood alertly as the humans made their way across the lawn to the side door.

  * * *

  "If your attackers come back, my security field should keep them out," McGinnis said, leading them into his living room. The place looked like a converted hunting lodge. The living room breathed with space; it had an open-beam ceiling and wood-paneled walls. A ceremonial sword and several sidearms were mounted on the walls, along with half a dozen holos of military spacecraft.

 

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