The Star Cross

by Raymond L. Weil

  -

  Up in orbit, the Dacroni battleship Rellal, along with a Profiteer battlecruiser, two escorts, a cargo ship, and two detainee ships had witnessed the arrival of the human vessels.

  “Humans from Earth,” Dalet said, the battleship’s second in command.

  “An interesting development,” responded Second Clan Leader Castel. “The same battlecruiser was present when we retook the Earth System from the humans.”

  “What’s it doing here?” asked Dalet, his eyes showing concern. “How did they learn of Kubitz?”

  “Spending gold,” answered the communications operator. “One of our clan on the Controller station says they paid their system fee with gold bars, and they had a Profiteer with them.”

  “They must have captured him when they drove High Profiteer Creed from the system,” said Castel, thinking about the possible ramifications of this.

  “They have a cargo ship,” pointed out Dalet, gesturing to it on a viewscreen. “How much gold can they have?”

  “Clan Leader Jarls needs to be informed of this,” commented Castel, as he weighed his options. “It’s evident the humans moved some of their gold off Earth between the time High Profiteer Creed was driven away and when we returned. We have no way of knowing just how much.”

  “What are your orders?”

  “Send two clan groups to the surface to keep a close eye on the humans. Make sure they’re heavily armed. Find out who they’re talking to and how much gold they have. If at all possible, I would like one of the humans seized and brought back to the Rellal.”

  “I will pass on the orders,” replied Dalet.

  Castel watched as Dalet hastened away to carry out his instructions. Turning his eyes toward the orbiting human ships, Castel focused his attention on the large cargo vessel. He wondered if they could place a tracking device on it. They couldn’t attack the ship while in the Kubitz System, but, once it left, those rules no longer applied. While he might not be able to get the gold from the humans—after all they were obviously here to trade—Castel would reclaim what the humans bought with their gold, as well as the cargo ship itself.

  Chapter Ten

  Emily Randson and her twelve-year-old daughter, Alexis, were in their spartan quarters in the large squat building currently home to all the captive humans. Each day she was expected to help serve meals to the different aliens who stopped by the large dining hall to eat. Fortunately most of the aliens were humanoid, and even a few seemed as if they could have come from Earth. Around her neck, she wore a medallion with a number engraved upon it. This was her identification number. She knew the aliens coming to eat were prospective buyers and how well she served them could well decide if she was chosen as a household servant or sent to do other more demeaning work. She had heard rumors that some of the younger women were being trained to work in the pleasure houses. She shuddered, thinking what they must be going through.

  “Mother, do you think we’ll ever go home?” asked Alexis, as she put on the dark gray outfit that designated her as kitchen staff.

  Emily sighed and, standing up, walked over and hugged her daughter. “I don’t know,” she replied, wishing things were different. “We’re a long way from home, and no one back on Earth knows where the Profiteers took us.”

  The last few months had been horrible. The trip from Earth in the crowded Profiteer ship had been heart-wrenching. They had no privacy and very little food and water. She knew a few people had died on the trip.

  “So we may never see Dad again?” Alexis asked, her eyes turning cloudy. “I want to go home. I don’t like it here!”

  “Don’t say never,” Emily said, wiping a tear from her daughter’s cheek. “If your father finds out what happened to us, he’ll never give up trying to find us.”

  “He could be dead,” said Alexis in an uncertain voice. “The aliens killed all the starships in orbit. If Dad and the Star Cross were to come back to Earth, wouldn’t they do the same to him?”

  “He’s smart enough to stay away,” Emily said. “Admiral Vickers won’t risk the Star Cross, and he won’t be caught by surprise like our other ships. Remember, the Star Cross is a very powerful warship.”

  “I hope Admiral Vickers kills them all!” said Alexis heatedly. “These aliens are evil!”

  “They’re just different,” answered Emily. “Some we’ve met have been very polite.”

  “Not the Profiteers,” replied Alexis, shaking her head. “They’re mean!”

  Emily sighed, wishing her daughter wasn’t going through this ordeal. She knew the odds of Andrew ever finding them was pretty close to zero. Her only hope was to find a humanoid buyer who would give her and Alexis a decent home. Right now her main priority had to be finding Alexis a safe environment to grow up in, even if she had to do things that she once considered unthinkable.

  A bell chimed three times, indicating it was time for them to report for their shift in the dining hall. Alexis helped wash the dishes and keep the large kitchen clean. It was hard work for a child who was so young. Emily knew she only had a few days left before the first auctions began. She had to find the right buyer for her and Alexis shortly. She felt disgusted about what she was considering, but she had to think of Alexis first.

  “Come, dear. Let’s go to the dining hall,” she said in a soft voice. “Our shift starts shortly.”

  Alexis nodded and followed her mother out the door.

  -

  Kurt and Andrew were in what, on Earth, would be considered a bar. Loud music played; scantily clad humanoid women danced on a stage, and alcohol was being consumed in large quantities by the people inside. Kurt had decided not to look at them as aliens or humanoids but as people, since many of them resembled regular humans.

  Kurt kept his eyes on Grantz, who was speaking to a very human-looking man near the stage. Both were drinking heavily and laughing, as they watched the dancers. Occasionally Grantz would point to the table where Kurt and Andrew sat. Grantz had asked to talk to the man privately as he was an old acquaintance and very wary of strangers.

  “Did you notice that nearly everyone in here is armed?” commented Andrew uneasily, as he looked around the establishment.

  “Yeah,” Kurt replied with a nod. He and Andrew were carrying 9mm pistols.

  Their Marine escorts and Lieutenant Tenner waited outside, as armed bodyguards were not allowed inside the bar. What also concerned Kurt was the complete absence of any Enforcers. Since leaving the spaceport, he hadn’t seen even one. Grantz had commented that they were always around, just out of sight.

  “They’re coming over here,” Andrew said suddenly.

  Kurt watched as Grantz and the man he had been talking to made their way toward them. For the first time Kurt noticed the man was armed with what looked like two very large pistols in holsters hanging from a large black belt. They came to a stop, and the human gazed speculatively at Kurt.

  “I’m Avery Dolman. Your friend here says you want access to the Marsten servant training facility here on Kubitz.” The man spoke in a quiet voice, folding his arms across his chest.

  “Yes,” Kurt answered. “We have some business to conduct there.” Kurt noticed how cold the man’s eyes looked. This was a man not to be trifled with.

  Dolman was silent for a long moment and then spoke. “According to Grantz, the humans who are inside belong to your race. I should let you know that an additional two thousand were brought down in the last few days from the orbiting detainee ships.”

  “That’s four thousand people,” Andrew said, stunned that so many had been brought to Kubitz so quickly. It would press the Newton Princess to take on so many.

  “We want to make an offer for the entire group,” Kurt said evenly, staring into Dolman’s eyes.

  “You must have a lot of credits,” Dolman said casually. “It’ll cost you in the neighborhood of forty million credits to buy the freedom of so many. Are you certain you wouldn’t rather pick out just a few? I understand some of the women are quit
e beautiful.”

  “We want all of them,” Kurt said, holding his anger in check. “Can you help us?”

  “Ten percent,” the man answered with a smug look on his face. “For ten percent I can get you into the local facility and arrange for you to meet the right people.”

  “One hundred thousand credits,” growled Grantz with a threatening look on his face. “For that you’ll provide security to ensure we get to the facility and back to the spaceport, or we find someone else.”

  “Six percent,” countered Dolman. “A Dacroni battleship is in orbit. They may send people down to ensure you stay away from the servant training facility. One hundred thousand credits will not buy you adequate protection.” He unfolded his arms, and his hands touched his pistols. “Six percent and I will provide sufficient security to ensure you and your people remain safe.”

  “Six percent is too high,” Grantz pointed out, shaking his head. “You can make a tidy profit from this. Two hundred thousand credits and, if you refuse to accept our offer, we’ll look for someone else.”

  “Four percent and it’s a contract,” Dolman said after a moment of thought. “We may have to go against the Dacroni, and they’re not easy to kill.”

  Grantz looked questionably at Kurt.

  “For 250,000 credits, it’s a deal,” said Kurt firmly; he didn’t want any more haggling.

  Dolman grinned. “Have your people ready in an hour. I have a few messages to send. I’ll want 50 percent before we leave for the facility and the rest when we reach the spaceport.”

  “Just make sure you keep up your end of the agreement,” warned Kurt firmly.

  “I always do,” answered Dolman, as he walked off.

  Kurt looked over at Grantz, who sat down across from him, holding a large glass containing an amber-colored liquid. “What, no contract? Can we trust him?”

  “As well as you can trust anyone on Kubitz,” Grantz said with a laugh, then taking a long swig of his drink. “He’ll do as asked.” Grantz took out a small recording device from his pocket. “I’ll send a copy of this recording to one of the Controller stations to make it official.”

  “Won’t he get upset about that?” asked Andrew, gazing at the small recorder.

  Grantz laughed again, shaking his head. “No. I strongly suspect he did the same thing.” He tipped his glass and drank the last of the amber liquid. “This is good stuff.” He looked at Kurt and Andrew. “When this is over, I’ll take you to the pleasure houses. I promise you’ve never seen anything on Earth like what we have here.”

  “No thanks,” answered Kurt, shaking his head. “I think Captain Randson and I will both pass on that offer.”

  Grantz grinned. “Your loss.” Waving his hand, the Profiteer ordered another drink.

  -

  An hour later Dolman pulled alongside the bar in two very large vehicles that resembled old military trucks. Both were fully armored with a small turret on top.

  “Are those legal?” asked Lieutenant Tenner, as he examined the vehicles. “I thought large weapons were illegal on Kubitz.”

  “No,” Grantz answered, as he gestured for the others to follow him. “However, it’s not uncommon for vehicles like these to transport large amounts of credits or important clients. The Enforcers will look the other way, unless the turrets are fired. If they are, the Enforcers will take everyone into custody. Normally only large fines have to be paid, if you can show the weapons were used in self-defense.”

  Dolman stepped from the lead vehicle and walked over to Kurt and the others. “I’ve made arrangements for you to eat a meal in the dining hall at the training facility,” he informed them. “There is the matter of payment before we’re on our way.”

  Kurt handed over the metallic computer card, which Dolman inserted into a small device he held. He pressed several buttons and then gestured toward Kurt. “It needs your thumbprint to complete the transaction.”

  Grantz took the device and checked the amount deposited to Dolman’s account. “Everything looks all right.” He handed the device to Kurt and indicated where to place his thumb. Then, after Kurt had approved the transaction, Grantz removed the computer card and handed the device back to Dolman; the card he returned to Kurt.

  “Let’s be on our way,” Dolman said. At a signal from him, the back of the large trucks opened. “Half of you in one truck and the rest in the other.”

  Kurt saw several heavily armed men inside each vehicle. After quickly dividing the Marines, he climbed into one, followed by Andrew, Grantz, and three Marines, including Sergeant Jones. Lieutenant Tenner and the remaining three Marines took the other vehicle. The men inside looked coldly at Kurt and the others, and didn’t say anything.

  “Pretty primitive vehicles,” commented Andrew, as the vehicles pulled out and headed down the street. “I expected something more advanced.”

  “Practical,” Kurt replied. “I suspect that really advanced technology is held to a minimum.”

  “Only where weapons are concerned,” one of the armed men said. “Heavy energy weapons could seriously damage the city, so their use is restricted. These old transport vehicles are very dependable and sturdy enough to withstand most attacks we might face.” He rapped his knuckles against the armor on the wall. He then settled back, as if he had lost interest in talking.

  “We should be safe,” commented Sergeant Jones. “The armor on these vehicles seems adequate.”

  Grantz didn’t say anything; he just sat there and smiled, as if he was enjoying a private joke.

  -

  For nearly thirty minutes, the vehicles moved through the city until they finally came to a stop. The backs of the vehicles opened, and the men climbed out.

  Kurt looked at the large structure before them. It covered several city blocks and was about ten stories high.

  “Your people are here,” Dolman said, joining them. “I have made arrangements for four of you to go inside. Your armed escorts will have to remain here with the trucks.”

  As Kurt turned to go, Dolman stopped him. “I almost forgot to mention that there will be a fee to get inside.”

  “How big a fee?” demanded Kurt.

  “It’s negotiable,” Dolman said with a grin. “Everything on Kubitz is negotiable.”

  “I’ll handle it,” Grantz said. “Let’s get inside. I don’t like being out in the open like this with a Dacroni battleship in orbit.”

  Kurt agreed.

  “Also the sky is clouding up. We don’t want to get caught outside if it begins to rain.”

  “Why is that?” asked Andrew, looking up and noticing the dark clouds.

  “Acid rain,” answered Grantz. “Some storms are bad enough the raindrops will eat away your skin. Normally an alarm will sound, just before the rain falls, sending everyone to cover.”

  Andrew shook his head in disbelief. “Just what type of world is this?”

  “The best!” said Grantz with a grin. His eyes widened. “I still say again that you should try the pleasure houses while you’re here. There are none comparable in the rest of the galaxy.”

  “Let’s get inside,” Andrew said, ignoring Grantz. “I need to find my wife and daughter.”

  At least the Marines and Dolman’s people would have the armor of the trucks to protect them. “Lead the way,” Kurt said, looking at the Profiteer.

  -

  Emily was four hours into her shift and in the kitchen, full of tantalizing smells, picking up a food order. She saw the despairing looks on many of the human faces around her. Most had given up hope and felt they had no future. They were also not allowed to eat any of the food they prepared. Their own fare was quite bland by comparison.

  A number of overseers in the kitchen ensured the food was prepared properly. Punishment for not doing one’s job was quick and quite painful. Emily was glad to see that Alexis and several other young teenagers were busy keeping the dishes washed and stacked and seemed to be staying caught up. It was warm in the kitchen, and the work wasn’t easy.<
br />
  “The auction is in two more weeks,” commented one of the other servers. Karen Calvin was also doing her best to find a decent buyer for her and her young son. “Have you found anyone yet?”

  “No,” Emily replied with a heavy sigh. “I think, for the most part, they’re interested in the younger women and the single men.”

  “Those two weeks will pass by quickly,” commented Karen, but looking worried all the same. “What if they split us apart from our children?”

  Emily didn’t reply; this was her fear also. She couldn’t have Alexis taken from her. Picking up the tray with her food order, she exited the kitchen. Stepping out into the large dining hall, she noticed it was nearly full. Her eyes traveled over the several hundred potential buyers, until her gaze fell on the back of one who seemed strangely familiar. Looking across the table from him, she gasped recognizing Admiral Vickers. Her heart stopped, and she dropped her tray, which made a loud clanging noise when it hit the floor. At that moment, the other man turned around, and Emily felt as if she were about to faint. It was Andrew! Her pulse raced, and she could barely breathe.

  “Pick up that tray and clean up that mess,” growled one of the Overseers, who had come over to see what the commotion was. “Get that food order replaced quickly and don’t be so clumsy. Sometimes I despair of ever making you humans into a decent servant.”

  “Yes, sir,” Emily said, bending down and quickly doing as she was told. There was no doubt in her mind that Andrew and Admiral Vickers had both seen and recognized her. Picking up the tray, she hurried back to the kitchen. She couldn’t wait to tell the others.

  “I heard a tray drop,” said Karen, coming over to Emily. She stopped and gazed worriedly at Emily’s face. “Why are you so pale? Did an Overseer strike you?”