The Star Cross

by Raymond L. Weil

  Grantz walked to the back of the shuttle and waited until Lieutenant Tenner pressed the two buttons to open the airlock. With a whoosh the hatch slid open, and a metal ramp extended until it touched the platform.

  When they stepped out, Kurt paused and breathed the air. Grantz had assured him that it was safe. Kurt detected several smells, which he couldn’t identify, but nothing seemed off. As they walked down the ramp, four armed aliens walked up—vaguely humanoid with large muscular arms and legs and a squat chest.

  “They’re from Lylan Six,” Grantz explained. “It’s a high-gravity world where many of the system’s police forces come from. They’re very strong, and you don’t want to get into a fight with one.”

  The one in front stopped and barked a question at Grantz. The Profiteer answered quickly, pointing at Kurt and Lieutenant Tenner. Then turning, the humanoid motioned for them to follow.

  “They will escort us to one of the Controllers,” Grantz explained. “This shouldn’t take long.”

  “Keep your eyes open,” suggested Lieutenant Tenner, looking around with intense curiosity. “We need to learn as much about their culture as possible, particular how these Controllers act.”

  Kurt nodded; he trusted the lieutenant to help guide him through this, if it became necessary. They were in a situation neither had ever expected to be in. Lieutenant Tenner had been trained, but Kurt doubted that the lieutenant’s training had ever taken into account a situation quite like this.

  -

  As they walked through the station, Kurt couldn’t help notice all the different alien species. What really surprised him was that most of them were humanoid and a few actually resembled humans. Kurt asked Grantz about that.

  “It’s a mystery,” the Profiteer said after a moment. “Most of the races in this section of the galaxy are humanoid. It makes trading and dealing with the various races much simpler. There are a few alien races not of humanoid stock, and some of them do show up here from time to time.”

  Kurt nodded; this explained the interest in the slave trade, particularly if so many races were humanoid. It didn’t take much longer, and their escorts stopped, motioning for them to enter a door. Going inside, Kurt was surprised to find a small and efficient-looking office. Several desks were there, behind which sat the Controllers—easily seven feet tall and humanoid. Their heads were slightly larger than normal, completely bald, with eyes of a normal size, though their lips were a little slimmer. Their bodies were lean, and their hands had six long digits. They were also a little pale, as if they very seldom saw any sunlight.

  Several chairs of different sizes sat in front of the desks, and one of the Controllers motioned for them to come over and sit down. The Controller looked at Kurt and asked a question.

  Kurt shook his head, not understanding what the Controller was saying, and looked over at Grantz.

  Grantz said a few words to the Controller who frowned, shaking his head.

  Grantz spoke again, and once more the Controller didn’t seem to agree with what the Profiteer was saying.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Kurt, wondering if there was a problem.

  “Nothing,” replied Grantz dejectedly.

  The Controller stood and walked over to a cabinet and took out two small gold chains with a tiny egg-shaped object attached. Returning, he handed one to Kurt and the other to Lieutenant Tenner.

  “Put them around your necks,” Grantz said a little gruffly. “You’ll feel a brief moment of dizziness.”

  “What are these things?” asked Kurt. What had Grantz gotten them into?

  “Put them on. You won’t be harmed,” Grantz promised.

  Kurt put the small chain around his neck and suddenly felt very dizzy and weak. He shook his head and looked over at Lieutenant Tenner. From his expression, he felt the same.

  “Can you understand me know?” asked the Controller in perfectly good English.

  “Yes,” Kurt replied, stunned. “How is that possible?”

  “The egg-shaped device is a universal translator,” replied Grantz, looking crestfallen. “It allows all races to communicate with each other. To me, you’re speaking my language. To you, it will sound as if we’re speaking your language.”

  Kurt instantly understood why Grantz was so disgruntled. They would no longer have to depend on him to communicate with the Controllers and others they might meet. Suddenly the entire situation had been changed.

  “Why have you come to Kubitz?” asked the Controller, getting down to business.

  “We wish to purchase some humans who were taken from our world to be sold at the slave markets on Kubitz,” Kurt answered promptly.

  “A common-enough request,” the Controller answered, as he entered information on a nearby computer. “What is your world called, and what are its coordinates?”

  “Earth,” replied Kurt. He looked over at Grantz. “I’m not sure of the coordinates you may need. Our system of references may be different than yours.”

  “I know them,” Grantz volunteered, as he gave the necessary information to the Controller.

  The Controller entered the information into his computer console and then turned back to Kurt. “The humans you refer to are to be sold at the primary Kubitz servant auction in two weeks. They will be sold by the group representing High Profiteer Creed of planet Marsten. Preliminary estimates are that they will bring an exceptional price. They will be very expensive for you to purchase.”

  “Is there someone on Kubitz we can contact about buying the entire group?” asked Kurt. He didn’t want any humans to be sold into slavery.

  The Controller hesitated for a moment and then pressed an icon on his computer screen. A small disk popped out. “This will explain who you need to contact. I assume Profiteer Grantz is acting as your guide and advisor in this?”

  “Yes,” Kurt answered. He took out the contract Grantz had signed from his pocket and handed it to the Controller.

  The Controller examined it for a moment. He then passed a wand over it, scanning the information into his computer. “The contract is valid and has been recorded.” He then passed the contract back to Kurt. “Will your ships be traveling to Kubitz?”

  “Yes,” Kurt replied evenly. “I understand a fee is involved in that.”

  “Yes,” the Controller replied. He checked his computer once more and then looked over at Kurt. “The fee for all five of your ships will be 220,000 credits.”

  Kurt opened the small case he had brought and placed one of the gold bars on the Controller’s desk. When he did, he noticed the Controller’s eyes widen.

  The Controller ran another device over the gold bar and then nodded in satisfaction. “This bar is worth 320,000 credits. I assume you want the extra credited to your account?”

  Kurt nodded and then spent the next few minutes answering more questions and setting up the account. Just as they prepared to leave, Kurt paused and asked the Controller if he could purchase more of the universal translators. In the end, he ended up depositing the other bar of gold as well and left the Controller’s office with ten more of the valuable devices.

  “This is why you didn’t want us coming to the station,” said Kurt, looking accusingly at Grantz, as they walked down a large corridor. Numerous other humanoids were also in the corridor, hurrying to wherever.

  “Yes,” admitted Grantz reluctantly, letting out a deep breath. “I had hoped it would gain me more gold, if I were your only source of communication.”

  “These translators will be highly useful,” Lieutenant Tenner said, touching the one hanging from his neck. “I would like to give several of them to my team, so they can better study what’s going on in this system. We should now be able to understand their broadcasts and any messages the Star Cross intercepts.”

  “We can do that,” Kurt replied, as they exited a hatch and stepped into the landing bay. “Have your team gather as much information as possible.”

  Grantz led them to where the shuttle was parked, and, in a short
time, they were back on board the Star Cross.

  “Set course for Kubitz,” Kurt ordered, as he stepped into the Command Center. “It’s time to get our people back.”

  -

  The Star Cross and her small fleet slid into orbit ten thousand kilometers above Kubitz. The planet was slightly larger than Earth but of less density. The gravity was nearly Earth normal, but its day was only twenty-two hours’ long.

  “What the hell happened to the planet?” asked Captain Randson, gazing at Kubitz on the main viewscreens. The plant’s atmosphere looked to be heavily polluted with plumes of brown and gray.

  “Heavy industry,” replied Grantz, shifting his eyes to the viewscreen. “The main sections of the cities have environmental domes over them to protect them from the acid rain and other extreme weather that occurs from time to time. One area on the planet is under strict and very expensive weather control, where crops and food animals are raised.”

  “What now?” asked Kurt, glancing over at the Profiteer. He had already discussed some of this with Grantz earlier, but he wanted to go over it again.

  “We go on the planet,” Grantz began. “We’ll need to deposit some gold at the Controller exchange office at the spaceport. They’ll give us a computer card we can use for purchases. We can also rent a vehicle to take us around.”

  “What about armed escorts?” asked Andrew, expecting Grantz to say no once again. From what Grantz had been saying, the planet was a particularly dangerous place with a lot of unscrupulous humanoids taking advantage of the unwary. Andrew also knew that, somewhere down on the planet, were his wife and daughter.

  “I would highly recommend it,” answered Grantz, looking over at Captain Randson. “The planet has a police force called Enforcers. They normally stay out of sight, unless a problem arises. Once word spreads that you deposited a significant amount of gold, some curious people may want to see just who you are. Most of the client races who visit Kubitz have an armed escort to ensure their safety.”

  “Get a squad of Marines ready,” Kurt ordered. “Armed with pistols only.”

  “We may have a problem,” muttered Grantz, looking with concern at a large cylinder-shaped ship on one of the viewscreens. Several other smaller ships were around it. “That’s a Dacroni battleship with a Profiteer battlecruiser and several other ships. If I had to guess, they just arrived from Earth.”

  “You said the Kubitz government would ensure there are no problems,” said Kurt, as he studied the ships and wondered if they could be a threat to his fleet.

  “There won’t be while we’re in orbit,” Grantz answered uneasily. “But, down on the surface, it will be a different matter altogether. They may try to find out what we’re doing here.”

  Kurt looked over at Andrew; Kurt really needed the captain to stay on the Star Cross and keep an eye on things. But then again, how could he order the captain not to go to Kubitz to find his wife and daughter?

  “Lieutenant Mays, you have command. If there are any problems, contact me immediately.”

  “Yes, sir,” replied the tactical officer, as she got up and took the command chair.

  Kurt had handed out several of the small universal translators to the command crew—Lieutenant Mays, Lieutenant Brooks, and Ensign Pierce at Communications.

  “If things go south, don’t try to rescue us,” ordered Kurt. “Just get the hell out of here and report back to Newton. Tell Rear Admiral Wilson what happened.”

  As Kurt left the Command Center, he just hoped they all made it back safely. They were about to step foot on an alien world where hundreds of different species conducted business. From what Grantz had told them, it was a dangerous place where deals for almost anything, both legal and illegal, could be made for the right price. Grantz had also mentioned that it wasn’t too unusual for people to vanish and never be heard from again.

  -

  It didn’t take them long to take a shuttle and fly to one of the many spaceports on Kubitz, but the one they were landing at was the closest to where the slave auction would be held. As soon as they arrived, Kurt, Captain Randson, Lieutenant Tenner, Grantz, and their six Marine escorts left the shuttle. A pilot and two other Marines stayed on board.

  “This is a gloomy place,” commented Andrew, as they walked toward the large building that Grantz had indicated contained the Controller facilities. Around them vehicles flew by and even a few work robots were in view. Vehicles pulling heavily loaded trailers headed toward waiting shuttles and ships.

  “Pollution,” replied Grantz, as he led them around several humanoids, arguing about how to load a trailer with a number of large and differently shaped crates. “Years and years of it.”

  Kurt looked up, and he could barely see the sun. Kubitz was the fourth planet out from its primary, and he was amazed at how much of the sunlight was blotted out. He knew sadly that Earth, in some ways, might someday resemble Kubitz if more wasn’t done to stop pollution. Several efforts to curb greenhouse gases and end the use of fossil fuels were well underway, or they had been until the Profiteers had attacked.

  Grantz led them into the large building, and shortly they were in a room with another Controller and two Lylan Enforcers. Their Marine escort had been asked to remain outside, which had made Sergeant Jones protest. Grantz had explained that armed escorts were not allowed inside the actual offices of the Controllers on Kubitz. With a frown, Sergeant Jones had relented. Two of the Marines left their weapons outside to allow them to carry inside the office a small crate they had brought along.

  Kurt couldn’t help but notice the heavy weapons the two Enforcers were armed with. Each had some sort of rifle that obviously shot some type of energy beam, plus a large pistol attached to the wide belt at their waist. Kurt decided to ask Grantz about the weapons later.

  “How may I help you?” asked the Controller, looking curiously at the group before him.

  “We wish to make a deposit to do business on Kubitz,” Kurt explained without preamble. He was a little surprised to see that this Controller also had the same pale skin as the ones he had seen on the outer station.

  “How large a deposit?” asked the Controller in a bored voice.

  Kurt gestured to the Marines, who were carrying the small crate between them. They sat it on the Controller’s desk, causing it to creak from the weight, and then Kurt slowly opened the lid.

  The Controller’s eyes grew wide when he saw the bars of gold. “Where did you say you were from?” he asked, rising to his feet and taking one of the bars from the crate.

  “Earth,” Kurt answered.

  The Controller scanned the gold bar, using the same type of device as the Controller at the space station had. He gestured for one of the Enforcers to step forward and instructed him to get a cart to move the gold. The Enforcer quickly left and shortly returned with a small heavily built cart that the Controller slowly placed the bars of gold on, as he carefully scanned each one.

  “I make it twenty-four million credits,” he said, as he scanned the last one. “You’re aware that High Profiteer Creed has claimed Earth and its wealth as his?”

  “Yes,” Grantz replied. “However, while these humans are originally from Earth, they reside on a small colony world called Newton. This gold was removed from Earth before High Profiteer Creed officially made his claim.”

  “That’s no concern of mine,” answered the Controller dismissively. “The gold is in your possession, and that’s good enough by the laws Kubitz applies to such things. How would you like this credited to your account? Do you want some of it in actual credit notes?”

  “Yes,” Grantz quickly answered. “We would like two hundred thousand in credit notes, and the rest deposited into our account. We have already set up an account on the station.”

  “So I see,” answered the Controller, as he checked his computer.

  He quickly entered some information on his screen and then walked over to a door made of a heavy shiny metal with a DNA lock. The Controller placed his hand upon
the sensor and spoke a short sentence. With several loud clicks, the door swung open. Stepping inside, he soon returned, carrying several small bundles of credit notes.

  Taking his time, he slowly counted out the credits. He also handed Kurt a small computer disk with a record of their account and which could be used to withdraw whatever funds were needed.

  “If I can be of any further assistance, don’t hesitate to stop by,” the Controller said when they were finished.

  “We will,” responded Kurt, as they turned and left the office. Once they were outside and no longer in hearing distance of the Enforcers, Kurt turned toward Grantz. “Why did you insist on so much cash?”

  “Bribes,” answered Grantz with a conniving grin. “People seem to talk a little better, if their palms are well greased.”

  “What now?” asked Lieutenant Tenner.

  “We find a suitable vehicle and then go search for the individual responsible for auctioning off your people,” Grantz answered. “We already know that it’s a group which represents Marsten’s interests.” He took out the small disk the Controller on the station had given them. “From the information on this disk we at least know where to start.”

  “So how do we find out who we need to contact?” asked Andrew, looking over at Grantz, growing impatient.

  “This is Kubitz, and everything is for sale for the right amount of credits, particularly information.”

  “It makes sense, considering how their culture is based,” commented Lieutenant Tenner, nodding at Grantz. “I’ve examined the disk, and it tells exactly where our people are held, as well as the Marstens holding them. They will not agree to see us unless we go through a few channels. It’s just their way of doing business.”

  Kurt let out a deep sigh, looking around the spaceport, he could see dozens of shuttles landing and taking off. Even a few larger spacecraft were evident. He paused for a moment, thinking about all the diverse technology visible to him. They had a lot more gold on the cargo ship under heavy guard. He wondered just what all was available for purchase here. One of his directives from President Mayfield and Fleet Admiral Tomalson was to secure a defense system for Newton. Before they left the Kubitz System, Kurt was determined to see what other weapons systems might be available. If Grantz had told them the truth, everything was for sale here for the right price, including military weapons of every type. There was a chance Kurt might find something useful to use against the Profiteers orbiting Earth.