Only three other people populated the bridge, two Foren and a Thorian. “Welcome, human,” the latter called from the pilot’s couch. The others nodded in greeting.
I’m getting the strongest feeling of déjà vu here. Hal flashed back to his first minutes aboard Adventurer, years earlier. “Hello,” he responded.
He turned to the captain. “Welcome where? How about telling me who you all are and why I’m here.”
“Of course. You are aboard Far Traveler. We are a freighter hauling cargo on a regular run between Foren space and Blensian space. I am Captain Perenfar. This is my ship.” He turned to the Thorian. “Sel, you may leave orbit now. We have some time to make up.”
The pilot nodded in acknowledgment.
Hal frowned. “Okay, fine. So you’re a freighter Captain. What does any of this have to do with me?”
“Did not Captain Tro tell you? You are my slave. I own you until such time as you pay off your purchase price to me, with interest.”
Slave? So Tro sold me instead of killing me? I’d thank him if I didn’t need to get back to Smuggler’s Cove to help Kalen.
“I see. Uh, I’ve never been a slave before. How long will it take me to pay you back?”
Captain Perenfar frowned in thought. “It all depends on you. If you work hard, give me no trouble, stay out of bar fights and jail, it should not take long.”
“Good, because I—”
“I would estimate no more than eight to ten years.”
“That does it!” Penrod thundered from his darkened office. Only a flashlight illuminated the surroundings, casting harsh shadows everywhere. “I’m sick of these damned prisoners running loose like they own the place. They’ve gone from nuisance status to a serious threat. We can’t have them disrupting operations. Post guards at every single junction closet, pump room, power substation, and any other critical juncture. Have guards at every intersection checking ID badges. Do whatever it takes to keep anything like this from happening again. I want them found and eliminated ASAP! Do you understand me, Jern?”
“Yes sir.”
“And that damn Chan’Yi doctor—I’ll bet he had something to do with all this. I want him locked in his cell until I have time for a little ‘chat.’ Enough of this shit.”
Penrod forced himself to calm down. “What’s the status on the lights and other services that they’ve disrupted?”
Ishtawahl took a deep breath before answering, steeling himself for another explosion. “Power has been restored in four sectors, but it will be hours yet before the other two sectors have power. Computer operations are still down throughout most of five sectors. The heat of the fire burned through or fused together the fiber optic bundles in one of the junction closets. It will take days to replace the damaged cables and reconnect everything. We are making progress on repairing the damaged pumps. However, there are still thousands of liters of water spilled that have to be reclaimed and treated.”
Penrod sighed and rubbed his temples. “Do you have any good news for me?”
“Yes sir. We are almost finished upgrading all door locks to accept encrypted security codes. By tomorrow, the prisoners should no longer be able to unlock any doors.”
“Good. But why didn’t we use encrypted codes from day-one?”
Ishtawahl shrugged. “They did not seem necessary at the time. The prisoners had no way to unlock the doors even before.”
“Until they did, you mean.”
Ishtawahl nodded. “Yes, but only because the doctor slipped them a calibrator. Otherwise they could never have escaped.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure of that.” Penrod sighed. “Just…handle it.” He rubbed his temples again.
“We’ve hurt the pirates,” Kalen said, stating the obvious. “Not fatally, but judging from the fact that power is still out, we’ve done significant damage to this place, even if it’s only temporary. We need to strike again, and hard, before they complete repairs.”
“I am ready,” Sue replied. “I can rest later.”
Kalen shook his head. “No, you need your rest. Besides, we have to come up with a plan first.” He hefted the blaster. “This will help.”
“But what do you need me for?” Hal asked. “You already have a pilot.”
“Yes,” Captain Perenfar agreed, “Sel Groshu has been with me for many years. But he is elderly now and has decided to retire to a beachfront condo on Fendewal at the end of this run. That gave me only three months in which to find a replacement. I was fortunate to have been in port when Captain Tro put out the word that he had an experienced pilot for sale. Another hour and we would have already gone. How is that for fortuitous timing? Finding you this soon gives us more than two months in which to get you trained before Sel leaves. Plenty of time, plenty of time.”
Perenfar’s voice trailed off in deep thought. “Of course, I would have preferred to hire someone as an employee rather than buy a slave. Employees have more incentive to work hard and get ahead. And if things do not work out you can always fire the employee. But a slave…you are stuck with him until you find a buyer, and who wants to buy a mediocre worker? Ah well, beggars cannot be choosers, can they?”
“Look, Captain, I’m a Unity pilot, captured in a raid on the pirate fortress. If you return me to Unity headquarters, I’m sure they’ll reimburse you for my purchase price with a generous profit added in. It’s imperative that I get back with important intel. We have to stop the pirates before they use any more of their nukes!”
“Yes, well, you see…the problem is that there is no Merchants’ Unity anymore. All gone. Bye-bye.”
“I know they’re disbanding, but there must be someone left. They couldn’t have shut down completely by now, could they? It’s only been a few weeks. With what I now know about the fortress, another raid might succeed.”
“As I understand it, there is a skeleton staff left to see to the disposition of assets, but that is all. As a functioning entity, the Unity has ceased to exist. Besides, even if it still operated, Jorseen is many light years out of our way. It would put us even more behind schedule. Too far; much too far. Anyway, what would I do without a pilot when Sel retires? No, I am afraid you must reconcile yourself to your situation. You will be with us for some time to come.”
“Nude, quick, come with—huh?”
Kalen and Sue stood just inside the door to Nude’s cell. On Nude’s bunk, illuminated by Kalen’s flashlight, lay a shape that was too short and much too wide to be a Chan’Yi.
“Nude?”
“Here, my friend.” The voice came from the near right corner of the room, in the penumbra outside the cone of light.
“But— Who’s that?” Kalen gestured at the body on the bunk.
“The guard who took me from the medical center and attempted to lock me in my cell.”
“But how? Didn’t he have a gun on you?”
“With this.” Nude held up the palm-sized pneumodermic. “When he was distracted opening the door. Do you think the one I gave you earlier was the only one I had available to me?”
Kalen flashed a wry smile. “No, I guess not. We came to get you.”
Nude nodded. “I, too, decided that it was time to leave.”
“But what about your promise not to try to escape?”
Nude shrugged. “It occurred to me that as long as I do not try to leave the fortress, technically I have not escaped. I am still trapped inside the fortress.”
Kalen chuckled. “That was the same argument I was going to use on you. Nude my friend, if you ever get tired of medicine, I think you’ll have a bright career ahead of you in politics.”
“Please, no insults.”
Kalen laughed and then remembered the reason they came for Nude. “We have to go. It’s time we start creating real havoc around here, and it’ll take more than the three of us to do it.” He nodded toward Sue. “We need an army.”
“Well then,” Nude concluded, “I expect we will need this.” He pulled the guard’s blaster from a poc
ket in his gown and handed it to Hal.
“I expect we will,” Kalen agreed.
“Then, let us go. We have an army to conjure up.”
“Yes, but first we’ll need more weapons—a lot more.”
“I am about to entrust you with control of my ship, Hal.” Captain Perenfar looked up at the taller human. “That gives you much power—more than a slave probably should be given. But to perform the duties for which I bought you, it is unavoidable. Before I turn over my ship to you, I must have your solemn word as a Unity officer that you will never act against the best interests of this ship or this crew.”
Hal thought for a moment. “I so swear. You have my word.”
“Excuse me. I’m lost. Can you tell me—?”
Sue stopped talking when the guard outside the pump room hit the ground. Kalen, standing behind him, slipped the pneumodermic back into his pocket.
Sue pocketed the guard’s blaster and ID badge and the two moved on, looking for their next target.
Before the pirates had any inkling of what was going on, the duo had collected a dozen blasters and badges.
Hal lay on the couch in his quarters. As promised, Captain Perenfar had authorized Hal’s implant for Far Traveler’s systems, giving him access to all her sensors, life support, engines, and everything else required to operate a hyperflight-capable ship.
Hal opened his mind to the ship and gasped in response.
It’s been too long.
At once his mind expanded outward to absorb the input from external sensors, seeing stars and planets at telescopic resolution and deep into the x-ray and infrared spectra, then inward to feel the input from internal sensors, avionics, and other equipment.
He marveled at how different the “flavor” of this ship was from what he was used to on Adventurer. The gear was older, and of a different design, plus the ship lacked weapon systems and had many more cargo holds, each with its own set of sensors.
All right. Let’s see how this baby handles.
As with Adventurer, Far Traveler had an immersive training system with the pilot trainee seeing/hearing/feeling what an earlier pilot had experienced. The system was older, and with less fidelity, but not dissimilar in result. Unlike Adventurer’s, this “simulator” lacked excitement. Instead of the adrenaline rush of trading APCs and dodging quems, the drills included docking maneuvers and cargo loading procedures. The most exciting drill he’d had to practice was how to unstick a jammed cargo door.
There was nothing Hal couldn’t handle in his sleep after less than an hour of training. Still, he practiced as if his life depended on it, as it very well might at some point.
He sighed. If I can’t talk the captain into letting me go, or find some other way out of this situation, this is gonna be a lo-o-o-ng eight years.
Kalen pushed the cart up by the door. Sue pulled out the calibrator and worked on unlocking the door. Two minutes passed and still she worked on it.
“Any time, Sue,” Kalen whispered, even though there was no one else around to hear.
“I am going as quickly as I can,” she responded testily. “I told you they have made it harder to defeat the locks. At least this one is not yet encrypted. I just need one more…there!”
The lock clicked and the door hissed open. Light flooded into the darkened holding pen.
A head rose from one bunk, followed by another and then another. Soon, all twelve prisoners were sitting up.
“We’re here to free you,” Kalen announced softly. “Who wants to escape?”
Heads swiveled, looking from one prisoner to another. No one wanted to be the first to speak.
Kalen sweetened the pot. “We have weapons. Who can fire a blaster?”
After a moment’s hesitation, a Foren stood. “I can.”
He was followed by four Thorians and a Chan’Yi.
“All you do is point and pull the trigger, right?” a human asked.
“Pretty much,” Kalen agreed.
“Count me in,” the man said, standing. “I’m no slave.”
A Sestran then stood. “Neither am I.” The other two Sestrans hesitated and looked at one another before standing as well.
The two Blensians remained silent.
“This is going to be dangerous,” Kalen warned. “Some or all of us may die, but at least we’ll die free, instead of in a thrisium mine somewhere. If you’re still with me, come and collect your weapon.”
All the standing prisoners approached the door. Kalen bent and opened the cabinet door in the cart. He pulled out two blasters and handed them to a Thorian and a Chan’Yi. He continued handing out the blasters until all the prisoners were armed.
“Good. Follow me. Keep your eyes open for guards, but don’t shoot unless someone raises a weapon. We’re better off flying under the radar than starting something we’re not prepared for. There are a lot more of them than there are of us. Right?”
The prisoners all indicated agreement.
“Good. Let’s go.”
Kalen, Sue, and the ten prisoners filed out of the cell. Sue triggered the door. It softly sighed shut on the two Blensians sitting on their bunks.
The dozen armed escapees hefted their weapons and headed down the corridor, led by Captain Jeffries.
Before they’d gotten a hundred meters from the cells, a loud WHOOP-WHOOP! sounded overhead.
“Crap! They’re on to us. Follow me!” Kalen took off at a run, followed by the others—some with worried frowns on their faces and some with looks of determination.
“Now what?” Penrod demanded of his security Chief, down in the Pit.
“A security cam spotted what looks like an escape attempt,” MekFensal replied. He displayed the recorded footage on the central holoscreen. It showed more than a dozen people, armed with blasters, marching down a corridor not far from the cells. They passed two unconscious guards at the nearest intersection.
“Of course it’s an escape attempt!” Penrod snarled. “They’re armed but they’re not wearing guard uniforms, are they?” Get a security detail there on the double!”
He turned on Jern Ishtawahl, who’d come up behind him, with some heat. “Why the hell don’t we have a proper detention wing, with guards and multiple tiers of locked doors? The prisoners couldn’t escape this easily.”
Ishtawahl’s wanted nothing more than to bite off the head of the chairman—literally—but restrained himself. Too soon.
He took a deep breath before replying. “Have you forgotten the conversation we had six months ago, when we were deciding how to design the holding pens? I recommended just such an arrangement. You shot the idea down due to cost and complexity. You said, as I recall, ‘We’re not running a damn prison here. We’re merely processing livestock. Move ‘em in, move ‘em out as expeditiously as possible.’ You thought such security measures were overly complicated and a waste of money.”
Penrod opened his mouth to retort, and then stopped. “Hmm. So I did.” His anger dissipated. “It looks like you were right and I was wrong. Fine. Once we get these prisoners taken care of, you have my authorization to do whatever it takes to correct the situation.”
He smiled crookedly at Ishtawahl. “Next fortress we build, I’ll let you design the detention wing.”
Kalen and the others rounded a corner and came face to face with two guards racing toward them. Kalen and one of the guards raised their guns simultaneously and fired. The other guard was a split-second behind. All three missed. The shots left scorch marks on the walls behind Kalen.
Five prisoners fired and both guards went down in a heap. The time for stun settings was over. People were going to die on both sides of this war, and the prisoners couldn’t afford to have guards waking up and getting a second shot at them.
Kalen and Sue picked up the dropped blasters and the micro army began running again.
“You’re relieved, Sel,” Hal said to the Thorian on the mint-green shape-conforming pilot’s couch. “Get yourself something to eat. They’re serving car
lod stew in the mess; it’s pretty good.”
Sel Groshu rose smoothly, so Hal could take his place, and stretched. “Sounds good. The stew is always worth having.”
Similar exchanges occurred elsewhere on the bridge, as one cargo officer replaced another, environmental systems officers (ESOs) passed one another with a friendly wave, and the captain left for his quarters. In less than a minute, there were three people on the bridge, settling in for a ten-hour shift.
Hal opened his mind fully to the immensity of the ship’s systems. True, while aboard ship he was never completely disconnected; but off-duty, the sensitivity was muted. It wouldn’t do for two pilots to have full control simultaneously—too much confusion that way. The data streaming into an off-duty pilot’s mind was more like the sound of a babbling brook in the background than the noisy conversation of active on-duty participation, as now.
Everything was operating smoothly, all systems were go. Hal looked over at the ESO sitting at his console. It, like most of the furnishings on the bridge, was the same mint-green hue as the pilot’s couch—a color that clashed horribly with the Foren’s natural yellow-orange coloration. Of course, the Foren, being color-blind, didn’t notice. To them, everything was shades of gray.
“Are things always this quiet, Solanmar?”
The Foren looked over his shoulder and smiled. “You had better hope so. Excitement can only mean bad things on a cargo ship. Quiet is good. We like quiet.”
“If you say so.”
An hour passed and the ship continued to sail the calm seas of multidimensional hyperspace. This was only Hal’s second shift as pilot, and already he knew that eight years of this never-ending sameness would feel more like eighty.
He lay in his couch, half asleep, but still controlling the ship’s flight parameters with his subconscious mind. His eyes flew open.
My Other Car is a Spaceship Page 25
