by GARY DARBY
“In humans, yes,” Baier replied. “But in an extraterrestrial? That’s harder to judge.”
“Aren’t we getting ahead of ourselves?” Nase asked.
“Yes, we are,” Alena answered. “If Tor’al is on Earth, we have no idea where. Besides, Earth isn’t someplace we can exactly waltz into scot-free.”
“Not only that,” Brant remarked, “the Imperium probably has Earth so tightly interdicted against a Mongan or Sha’anay invasion that we couldn’t even get past the Kuiper Belt without being intercepted.”
“What if we somehow alerted the authorities?” TJ asked and turned to look at Nase in a meaningful way. He returned her stare but didn’t reply.
“Who’s going to believe us?” Shanon remarked. She circled the group with her eyes, “The Imperium’s posted us as outlaws, remember?”
At her comment, Baier started chuckling aloud. “I’m sorry, did I say something funny?” Shanon asked.
Between chortles, Baier replied, “I hate to tell you this, my dear, but none of you fit the stereotype of hardcore criminals, or softcore for that matter.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t be too sure of that, doctor,” a voice behind them said. “The lieutenant has quite a bit of experience leading a merry band of XT poachers.”
Dason jumped up and exclaimed, “Sami!”
He and TJ hurried over to the ashen-faced scout. “You shouldn’t be up, Sami,” Dason admonished gently.
“Heard all the hullabaloo,” Sami answered, “knew you couldn’t get along without my expert guidance.”
Doctor Baier stood next to Sami and asked, “How are you feeling, young man?”
Sami swallowed and gave him a little nod. “Uh, a little white around the gills, but okay.”
“That’s ‘green around the gills,’ Sami,” TJ said.
“Not when you’ve lost as much blood as I have,” Sami retorted.
“I think sitting up for a short spell would be good,” Baier observed. “But not for too long.”
As Sami eased himself into a vacant chair, Brant placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s good to have you up and about, Sami.”
He then brought everyone back to the conversation by saying, “In thinking about this, we can’t just make a general broadcast, without proof. No one’s going to believe us.
“There’s no way we could make a run into the Solar System. Jittery trigger fingers will blast any ship that refuses to identify itself.
“And with General Rosberg imprisoned, I’m uncertain if there’s anyone at Star Scout Command who could help.”
“So where does that leave us?” Shanon asked.
Brant let out a breath. “I can see only two possible options, and neither is very viable. We can head for the Helix and attempt a link-up with Colonel Marrel; with his experience, he might know of a way to get our information to the right people.
“The second possibility is to set a course for Epsilon base and try to contact Colonel Tuul, assuming that he hasn’t been arrested or shipped to the scout recall sites.”
He frowned as if he didn’t appreciate either option and was trying to think of another. “Neither is a good bet, but unless someone else has any ideas, that’s as far as my thinking takes me.”
No one spoke until TJ, who sat next to Nase, began whispering to him. Nase shook his head but TJ spoke loud enough for those around her to hear, “Nase, this is too important. We have to do it.”
Everyone turned to stare at the two as Dason asked, “Do what?”
Nase kept his eyes lowered and then replied in a low voice, “There is a possibility of getting a message to ‘the authorities’ as you call them, and to someone who would most certainly believe us.”
He glanced over at TJ who gave a slight nod of encouragement and went on, “We couldn’t do it through official channels, though; it would have to be through personal channels. In fact, it would have to go through our private family communications.”
Brant leaned forward with an intent expression in his eyes. “Nase, I’m listening, but I’m not tracking. Can you be a little more precise?”
“What Nase is trying to say,” TJ explained quietly, “is that he is the son of Abram Wek, Planetary Governor of Vesta IV, and I am the daughter of Henrik Utlander, President of the Imperium’s General Assembly.”
Stunned silence met TJ’s announcement until Sami sputtered, “I knew it! I knew it! I knew he was a blue-blood the minute I set eyes on him.”
“Sami,” Dason growled in exasperation, “now is definitely not the time!”
Brant sat back in his chair and his eyes flitted back and forth between TJ and Nase. “I never knew. The files we received at training command never mentioned your family ties.”
“Scoutmaster Tarracas knew,” TJ replied.
“And I’m sure General Rosberg did as well. But who else was made aware, I’m not sure. It was supposed to be as secret as possible for security and other reasons.
“Nase and I didn’t want anyone at school to know because we wanted to make it in the scouts on our own, and not because of our family’s, uh, political positions.”
Her small smile dimpled her cheeks while she glanced at Nase. “It was a bit awkward for both of us because we had met about two years ago at an assembly function.
“We got to talking and learned that both of us wanted to go into the Star Scout Corps, but our families had serious reservations.
“When we saw each other during the first day of in-processing, it was a bit of a shock and pretty hard not to let on that we knew each other, especially later when they teamed us together.”
“And this family back-channel communications that you spoke of,” Brant asked, “can you do it with the Zephyr’s equipment?”
“Yes,” Nase answered. “But both of our messages would have to go through at least two, perhaps three civilian relay stations.”
He gave TJ a quick glance. “And since the messages have to be in the clear with our personal security identifiers, there’s no guarantee that they will get through.”
Doctor Baier spoke up and said, “Pardon the interruption, but under the circumstances, would it really matter if your message gets through or not?”
“What do you mean, doctor?” TJ asked.
Baier glanced around at their questioning expressions. “You mean you honestly don’t know?”
“Know what?” Brant prompted.
Baier gave his shoulders a big shrug. “There is no General Assembly, it’s been dissolved. The announcement came yesterday. Instead of an assembly, the various planetary systems are forming something called ‘Regional Defense Coalitions.’”
“You mean the Imperium no long exists?” Shanon asked bleakly.
“Oh no,” Baier replied. “The Imperium is still in business, it just doesn’t quite look the same.
“Admittedly, there’s a lot of confusion about just how it’s working and so forth. The High Council is still in session as far as I know; the bureaucracy from what I can tell is still operating, the armed forces, the Navy and so forth, are still functioning.
“The major parts seem to be still in place, it’s just the outlying pieces that are falling out of the puzzle.”
“Whew,” Brant breathed out with a little catch in his voice. “That’s something we hadn’t heard.”
He turned his head to TJ and Nase. TJ held a hand to her mouth and her eyes glistened with tears. Nase’s face held an expression of astonishment and disbelief.
“I’m afraid that the good doctor is right,” Brant quietly spoke. “It may not matter now if your messages get through or not but if you want to try, go ahead.”
His mouth tightened and he said, “I guess it can’t hurt at this point.”
“And,” Alena muttered, “that leaves us exactly where we were before, on our own and dead in the water.”
Dason shook his head. “Not necessarily,” he replied. “As Brant said, it can’t hurt for Nase and TJ to send their messages. Who knows, maybe their respective fam
ilies can help in some way, and we still have the options we discussed.”
“Yes,” Shanon commented, “but I want to offer up another idea. I suggest that we split up. Don’t go all in on either possibility; instead, double our chances of someone getting through.”
Dason gave Shanon an emphatic nod. “Good thinking,” he replied and turned to Brant. “What do you say, sir? Some of us head for the Helix, the rest make for Epsilon base.”
Brant drummed his fingers on his armrests as he considered the conversation. Dason understood his hesitation; the natural inclination was to keep his small force intact, for safety in numbers if for no other reason.
“Lieutenant,” Dason offered quietly, “this isn’t too much different than when we were on the AP planet, and we had to split up, remember? It worked out then, all we can do is hope that it works out this time, too.”
Brant stood, glanced at the other Zephyrs floating close by. “All right, we’ll do it. I’ll transfer to Zephyr Two. I’ll take the other Zephyr with me and make for Epsilon.”
Firmly, he addressed Dason. “Your team will take this ship to the Helix. My orders to you are very simple. You will act as an independent team. You will not engage the Mongans unless it is strictly in self-defense.
“Your mission is to find Colonel Marrel and if you can, contrive a plan to rescue Tor’al. Understood?”
“Yes sir, understood,” Dason answered.
Brant turned to Sami and Doctor Baier. “You two will go with me, Epsilon will have first-rate medical facilities for you, Sami, and doctor, you should be able to hitch a ride to a commercial spaceport.”
Sami gulped and said, “Uh, sir, what is the penalty for disobeying the orders of a superior officer and mutiny?”
Brant furrowed his brows as he stared at Sami. “What has that got to do with anything, Sami?”
“Oh,” Sami answered, “I just wanted to know how long I would be pacing a jail cell because I’m staying right here with my team. I’m not going to Epsilon.”
“Sami—” Dason began, but stopped at Sami’s glare and determined scowl.
Shaking his head, Sami was adamant as he said, “Oh no. You’re not going to leave me behind,” he sputtered.
“No little blood-sucking parasite is gonna keep me out of this fight. You think I’m going to go back and lie around in some cushy Nav hospital bed while my team is having all the fun?”
He glanced around, his gaze fierce as he eyed the others. “Besides, you guys need me. I’m the glue that keeps this team stuck together. I’m the spit in the polish. I’m the wind in our sails, I’m the–”
“Mouth,” TJ declared tartly, “that sucks all the oxygen out of the air.”
Sami opened his mouth as if to reply but Brant quickly interjected. “Doctor, did you give him something to make him go half-loco?”
“Just a little morphinate,” Baier replied. “But he shouldn’t be reacting this way.”
“Are you sure, doctor?” Brant asked. “Think hard, really hard. It’s very apparent to me that you gave him way too much. That would explain his bizarre behavior, especially his refusing a direct order of a superior officer, right?”
“Eh?” Baier muttered. “Oh, yes, of course,” he replied after catching Brant’s expression.
“That’s what must have happened; I accidentally overdosed him, and I will be happy to testify to that at his court martial. Temporary insanity due to an overdose of a potent narcotic should get him at least probation, don’t you think?”
He glanced over at Sami and turned back to Brant, “And, in my medical opinion, it would be too dangerous at this stage of his recovery to move him from this ship to another. The stress and all, you know.”
Brant took in a breath, turned and unseen to everyone else, gave Dason a wink of the eye. “Then let the ship’s log so note that under advice of competent medical authority, I am deferring charges of high mutiny, gross insubordination, insulting a superior officer, and skullduggery in interstellar space while the Imperium is technically in a state of war.
“Said charges to be reinstated against Scout Sami Alvaro when and if Scout Alvaro is deemed mentally competent to stand trial.”
“Uh, sir,” Sami mumbled, “what’s ‘skullduggery’ mean?”
“It means,” Brant pronounced in a stern voice as he stepped over and bent down to go nearly nose to nose with Sami, “that you can stay with your team. But if you ever cross me again, I’ll set you down on the nastiest piece of real estate I can find, without so much as a knife to your name. Got it?”
Alena leaned over to say in a stage whisper, “And he’d do it, too.”
Sami’s lips puckered up, he swallowed and said, “I definitely got it . . . sir.”
Brant turned to the doctor. “Sir, as I mentioned, at Epsilon you might be able to catch a ride to that civilized world you wanted, or—”
Baier held up a quick hand to interrupt him. “No. I need to stay with your mutineer here, medically he’s still got a ways to go.”
He swept a hand at the other scouts while saying, “And seeing as how the rest of this bunch can’t even be competent criminals, I’d best stay and take care of the one scout among them who seem’s to have a taste of the rogue in him.”
Brant smiled at the doctor and muttered, “Thank you, sir, that is much appreciated.
A few minutes later, outfitted in his deep space P-suit, he stood next to the airlock and motioned for Dason to come over. He laid a gloved hand on Dason’s shoulder.
“My Scoutmaster once said, ‘Leaders know when to run toward a fight, they also know when to step away from one.’ See that you remember that, scout.”
“I will, sir, thanks,” Dason answered.
“Good,” Brant replied and clapped Dason on the shoulder. “Scouts Out!”
With that, he sealed his helmet, cycled through the airlock and moments later pushed off toward the nearby Zephyr.
Dason waited until assured that Brant was safe aboard the other ship before turning to his waiting teammates. “You heard the man, Scouts Out. Let’s go. We’ve got work to do.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Star date: 2443.098
Near the Inner Rim of the Helix Nebula
“Coming out of the cloud!” Jadar called out sharply. “On your toes everyone and stay sharp, we’re only going to get one run at this.”
Standing just behind Dani, who sat in the pilot chair, he instructed, “Remember, take us in as if we belong here and know what we’re doing.”
“Yes, sir,” Dani answered. “We’re just one of the gang out for a nice evening stroll among the stars.”
Jadar turned and glanced over at the Torther Ape that squatted with its back to one wall. “All set, doc?”
Down below in the Zephyr, Doctor Stinneli, who now wore the virtual linkage suit, raised an arm in answer, causing the Torther Ape to raise its arm, too. He now not only controlled the SimLife’s every movement, but he saw and heard through the ape as well.
Jadar smiled to himself, thinking about the first time he had seen the SimLife, when it rescued him and Dason from the devil dogs. He had thought it was a real creature, so lifelike were its actions.
He turned back to the vu-screen and seconds later, as if a fog bank lifted, the last, wispy gasses of the nebula dissipated and they broke into the clear.
Dead ahead lay a yellow-green sun and between them and the star, the aquamarine marble that was the AP planet shone brightly against the darkness of space.
As they closed the distance to the globe, the three scouts kept a close watch on the vu-screen and the sensor board. They were minutes away from their cloud draped destination when Jy jerked his head around toward Jadar. “Sir, do you—”
“I see,” Jadar instantly replied.
Straightening, he ran a hand over his face, squeezing at his chin and mouth. He had expected to deal with perhaps ten or fifteen Mongan ships at the most, not the vast constellation of ships that now ringed the planet.
Dani looked up at him, her eyes wider than normal. “What do we do, sir?”
Jadar leaned over and rested both hands on the concave control board’s hard metal shell. For a second, he bowed his head in thought and then said to his shipmates, “Here’s the way I see it. We can bug out now and make our way back to Imperium space.”
He took in a breath and let it out. “Or we try and do what we came here to do. Unless they challenge our approach, we’ll have the tactical advantage of surprise. And unless they force our hand, and we have to cut loose with our weapons that should hold all the way down to the planet’s surface.”
Shaking his head at the next thought that came to mind, he said, “However, the problem will be getting back out. I had counted on having to fight only a few ships at most.
“Now we’ll have to contend with who knows how many. If we make it out, this won’t just be the Great Escape, it’ll be the Mother of all Miracle Escapes.”
He turned to the Torther Ape. “What do you say, doc? Go ahead, or turn around and go home?”
The ape didn’t move for several seconds. Jadar could swear that the thing gave every appearance of contemplating the question though he knew that was impossible.
The SimLife was not a living, thinking being, but an inanimate object powered by a positronic brain and nanocircuitry. Still . . .
The ape raised itself and pointed at the planet and its furry head gave a sharp nod of assent, causing its accordion-like ears to flap forward. “One for going,” Jadar said and then gave the SimLife a bleak smile. “You and the ape count as only one vote, doc.”
He turned to Dani. “And you, scout?”
Dani didn’t hesitate. “Scouts don’t leave scouts behind, sir. I’m for giving it the best try we can.”
Jadar patted her on the shoulder and murmured, “That they don’t.” He turned and asked, “Jy? Go home, or start a fight?”
“As they say, sir,” Jy answered, “fight big or go home. I’m ready to start a big fight.”
Jadar gave a little nod to the scouts. “Even though I hold veto power, I submit to the majority. Besides, that’s what I want to do as well.”
