Don Pendleton's Science Fiction Collection, 3 Books Box Set, (The Guns of Terra 10; The Godmakers; The Olympians)

by Don Pendleton

  Stel had flung herself away and was retreating to the trees. Whaleman watched her departure with veiled eyes, then he looked at the wreckage of the autosentinel, and finally at the fallen Reevers. “Point is made,” he said tiredly. “Need is, someone talk for Reevers.”

  Stel had paused at the treeline and was gazing back at him. Tom Cole stepped directly in front of Whaleman and extended his hand. “You’re the only talker I know,” Cole said.

  The Gunner touched hands with the Reever chieftain, then followed after the girl. She gave him a warm smile and slipped an arm about his waist, and they disappeared together into the trees.

  Tom Cole let out a whoop and hoisted a boobed Reever onto his shoulder.

  “Don’t tell me there ain’t no God,” he grunted happily.

  Hedge picked up the other victim and said, “Well, at least, there’s a Stel.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  A Weakness Boobed

  They were seated in a circle on the floor of the leader’s domehut—Whaleman, Cole, Hedge, Blue, and several other Reevers. Stel hovered in the background, preparing food and drink. “Explain plans for Terra 10,” Whaleman requested, staring fixedly at Tom Cole.

  “We need the gunship for bargaining power,” replied the big Reever. “That’s all. We don’t want to kill anybody or destroy anything. But we have to get their attention—and we can do that by taking Terra 10 away from them.”

  “Intent is to ransom gunship?” Whaleman inquired.

  “Not exactly. We mean to hold it over their heads—as a threat. Give us rights and freedom—or we make war.”

  The Gunner nodded his head in understanding. “Could work. Maybe not. Once in Terra 10, no Solan power could reach you. In reverse, though, no Reever power could reach you also. Isolation is complete. Life systems aboard gunship are minimal. Food storage, small. Board Island could starve you out.”

  Hedge shifted his weight about uncomfortably and murmured, “We’d give them a deadline to meet. Come across by such and such a time, or else.”

  “Explain ‘or else’,” Whaleman said.

  “Or else guns would start talking,” Hedge replied, grinning.

  “What he means,” Cole hastened to add, “is that we’d knock out some minor item to show ’em we mean business.”

  “Knock minor item? Explain further.”

  Cole flashed a warning glance at Hedge and said, “Like a Weather Coptrol Station or something. That’d get them excited. They wouldn’t like to see a couple of ag stations shut down.”

  Whaleman was thinking about it.

  Cole looked about at the circle of faces, shrugged, and said, “Or if you don’t like that maneuver, we could seal off Board Island. Allow no traffic in or out. That’d get to ’em quick, too.”

  Obviously, Whaleman liked that idea better. “This could be effective,” he agreed. “Plus, no need to activate gun batteries. Defense shield could do this.”

  “I guess I don’t understand that,” Cole admitted. “What is this defense shield?”

  “Is system making Terra 10 impregnable,” Whaleman explained. “Isolation shield is... Tom Cole understands repulsion principle allowing compatibility of matter and anti-matter within atom?”

  The Reever chief shook his head. “I never got no education in that,” he growled.

  “Not important understand,” Whaleman said. “Terra 10 isolation shield is utilize principle of energy-repulsion, is like magnetic field in reverse. Shield is deep one thousand miles—no energy, no matter, no anti-matter can penetrate, is virtual space-warp, is bend space around Terra 10.”

  “What happens when a space cruiser runs into that shield?” Hedge asked.

  “Is deflection happen. Space cruiser diverts along lines of bent space. Like same happen when radiant energy runs into shield. Is diverted, around and beyond gunship. Even radio waves.”

  “Then what do you do for communications when the shield is energized?” Blue piped up.

  Whaleman studied the small Reever with intent interest. It was an intelligent question, bespeaking more than an idle curiosity. “This is Terra 10 special feature,” he replied respectfully. “Radio waves at one precise frequency and below specific energy levels are admitted.”

  Hedge said, “So the isolation shield keeps everything at least a thousand miles away from the ship. Suppose you were in a hundred mile orbit of Earth, and suddenly you turned on the shield. What would happen?”

  Whaleman smiled. “Is happen, Terra 10 is suddenly displaced 900 miles into 1000 mile orbit. In contest with mass twice in size, plus larger, Terra 10 is give way ... but maintaining 1000 mile isolation only.”

  “All right, consider this, then,” Tom Cole said. “You’re up there, orbiting at a thousand miles. Your shields are turned off. A space squadron is approaching, and they’re within your thousand mile defense zone when you turn on the shield. What happens to that squadron?”

  “Is happen, squadron is suddenly on new course, following curved space around Terra 10.”

  The Reevers began laughing and talking excitedly with one another. Whaleman shot a glance to Stel and received a reassuring smile. She approached the circle and leaned across Whaleman to place the refreshments in the center, the heavy mammala squishing across the flesh of his back and setting up tingling thrills. He instinctively reached for her and squeezed her arm and patted her hand, then released her as she pulled insistently away.

  “Is love, like religious waterfall,” he whispered.

  The girl blushed. “Not here,” she replied breathlessly. “Later.”

  Tom Cole had not missed the exchange. Solemnly, he said, “I think we’re going to have a marriage when all this is finished.”

  “Explain marriage,” Whaleman said.

  Stel whirled quickly and returned to the food area. Tom Cole chuckled. “We’re embarrassing Stel,” he observed.

  “Explain marriage,” the Gunner repeated.

  “It’s an old human custom,” Cole said, smiling. “When a man and woman are in love and want to establish a home and a family, they get married. It’s an agreement, a contract. As long as they’re both alive.”

  Whaleman swivelled about to peer at Stel. Her back was turned and she was busying herself at the food shelf. He laughed suddenly and said, “Yes, marriage. This is good. Zach will marriage Stel.”

  “You’ve got to free the Reevers first,” Cole reminded him. “Board Island don’t allow Reevers to marry—not even to each other.”

  “Board Island is not know of this marriage,” Whaleman pointed out. “Is not known throughout Solana.”

  “Well that’s just smother of those things we got to get changed ... eh, Zach?” Cole said.

  The Gunner was looking troubled. “Is... is reversionary concept? This marriage?”

  Cole was replying, “Oh, I don’t think—” when a perspiring Reever entered the hut and announced, “We got the Boob out here, Tom”

  “Good,” the leader said. “Get one of those dummy huts set up around it. Then start taking it apart, piece by piece.”

  The man jerked his head in acknowledgement of the instructions and hurried out. Tom Cole looked at Whaleman and said, “I’m going to find out why that bug rattles my brains and not yours.”

  Whaleman nodded. “This is high crime, program machine to attack human. This is make point to Zach Whaleman, is prove Board Island not infallible. If mistake here, perhaps mistake elsewhere also. Is maybe mistake isolate Reevers, is maybe unjust.”

  “Maybe Mars!” Cole exclaimed.

  “Let’s get back to the plan,” Hedge suggested.

  “Plan is make simple,” Whaleman said. “Zach will board Terra 10, no other human on board. Will energize defense shield and lock on Board Island, maintaining thousand-mile. Board Island is now in outer perimeter of gunship’s isolation shield, island also is isolated.” His eyes sought the Reever leader’s. “Tom Cole must reach Board Island before shield is energized, otherwise isolation deflects Tom Cole, also. From island,
no communication possible except to and from Terra 10. Skronk? Tom Cole talk to Board, explain injustice, get Reever freedom. Communicate with Zach from DDO. Zach-”

  “Wait, wait, wait!” Cole said testily. “You’re going too fast. What is this DDO?”

  “DDO is Defense Director Office. Has only direct link, Board Island to Terra 10.” Whaleman smiled. “See? Image-think is superior to language-think.” He chuckled. “Tom Cole say Zach going too fast, unskronk, unskronk.”

  Cole smiled and replied, “So, the skein is on the other foot. But listen, Zach, I’m not so sure your plan is sound.”

  “I don’t like the idea of Tom bearding the lion in person,” Hedge worried aloud.

  “What is beardon line?” Whaleman asked.

  Tom Cole chuckled. “It’s a figure of speech, Zach. He means it might not be safe for me on Board Island. I was thinking about that, too.”

  Blue put in, “They’re not exactly accustomed to taking Reevers seriously. And even if they do, they might just grab him and execute him for his impertinence.”

  Whaleman was giving Blue a baffled look. Hedge explained, “Execute means kill—off with his head.”

  The Gunner’s features were contorted in a grimace of distaste. “No, no,” he said slowly. “Taking human life is high crime. This would not be.”

  “But just a little higher than torturing ’em with robots, eh?” Hedge retorted evenly.

  “I have a better idea,” Blue offered, “—if anyone wants to hear it.”

  “Blue is our electronics expert,” Cole explained.

  “Reevers have electronics?” Whaleman asked, in obvious surprise.

  “Strictly underground,” Cole replied. “We keep in touch with the other communes. What’s your idea, Blue?”

  “If Zach will give me that super-secret frequency for Terra 10, I’ll bet I can duplicate it with the stuff we already have. Then we could beam our demands from here to Terra 10 and Zach could relay on to Board Island. Or maybe we could penetrate that shield right from here. How about it, Zach—could we?”

  “If enough power, if not too much power, maybe so.”

  “Well, how about it?” Blue persisted. “Will you give me that frequency?”

  Whaleman appeared to be chewing the idea. While he pondered, a man ran quickly in from the outside.

  “A dense-air formation just buzzed over,” he announced excitedly.

  Hedge and Tom Cole exchanged startled glances, then leapt to their feet and hurried outside. The others, except for Whaleman and Blue, quickly followed. Stel paused at the doorway to throw Whaleman a warm glance, then went on out.

  “How about it?” Blue demanded. “What’s your isolation frequency?”

  “Your equipment, what kind?” Whaleman asked. “Is FTL?”

  “Is what?”

  “FTL. Faster than light.”

  Blue laughed. “Don’t talk to me like I’m an idiot,” he said softly. “Nothing is faster than light.”

  Whaleman merely nodded his head, offering no further information.

  Blue stared at him for a moment, then said, “Huh? Is there?”

  “For eighty years, yes,” Whaleman said quietly. “FTL principles now widely used—communication, transport, many uses.”

  Blue was staring at the Gunner as though undecided as to believe him or not. A high-pitched buzzing sound passed directly overhead.

  “They’re back,” Blue commented. “Wonder what they want.” He struggled to his feet.

  “They?” Whaleman asked.

  “Patrol squadron, dense atmosphere craft—you know.”

  Whaleman knew. He had heard of the special DDO force, but never had personal contact with them.

  Blue was moving toward the open doorway. “Guess they discovered the Boob is missing,” he muttered. “There’ll be blood to pay if they find ’im here.”

  Whaleman joined him at the doorway. The first hint of dawn was edging into the horizon. In the darkness, directly overhead, several powered craft hovered. A beam of light from one of the ships was sweeping the commune. The beam found Tom Cole and a large group of Reevers in the pavilion area and stayed on them. Cole was shading his eyes with both hands and glaring angrily into the sky.

  An amplified voice wafted down. “Greetings to the Reever commune. We search for a missing spacecraft. Can you provide any helpful information?”

  No response came from the ground. The amplified voice said, “Our receptors receive your very breath. Speak, and we will hear you. Can you provide information?”

  Tom Cole roared back, “What the comet’s tail would a spacecraft be doing down here? Look over at the distribution center, five miles due East.”

  “This is a Solan emergency,” advised the voice from the sky. “Radar tracings indicate that the missing craft might have passed directly over your commune. Has anything at all unusual occurred in the past thirty-six hours?”

  One of the Reevers in the Cole group sniggered. The tall chieftain quickly clamped a hand over the man’s mouth and replied, “The days and nights of the Reevers are filled with deadeningly usual things. Go away. You frighten our women.”

  “I cannot overemphasize importance of this search mission,” the voice persisted. “In the name and destiny of Solana, we implore you to act responsibly. We seek a gravity-drive spacecar assigned to the Gunner of Solana Gunship Terra 10. This is a Solana emergency. Please cooperate.”

  “What’s all the panic about?” Cole rumbled.

  Repeating—this is a Solan emergency.”

  “Well what the Mars you want me to do about it?”

  “Send your people into the arboreal areas, and search for the wreckage of such a craft. Report immediately any findings to your station manager.”

  “And get zingoed by the Boob!” Cole roared. “No, thanks.”

  Whaleman, still in the doorway, smothered an impulse to run into the spotlight and announce his presence. The inner conflict set up by this tug of duty churned his stomach and weakened his knees. Blue threw him a concerned look, then gently pushed him back inside the hut.

  “Is Solan emergency,” Whaleman grunted.

  “It’s a Solan emergency every time these guys come over,” Blue told him. “Don’t worry about it.”

  Outside, Cole was replying to another plea for assistance. “You get that zinging Boob off our backs, and maybe we can do something.”

  The amplified voice responded, “Please accept my assurances that the autosentinel will not attack you.”

  “You know what you can do with your assurances,” Tom Cole yelled back—then, following a short pause, “Okay, okay. We’ll look for your missing flivver.”

  “The Chairman will personally acknowledge your participation in this emergency situation,” came the response. The beam of light disappeared, and the formation moved swiftly away.

  Upon re-entering the hut, Tom Cole was saying, “I didn’t realize they’d miss you so much, Zach. I guess—” He checked his words and looked hard at Whaleman, who was slumped into a bubble chair at the far wall. “Mars, what happened to our boy?” he asked Blue. “He looks green!"

  “Be quiet, he just threw up,” Blue replied in a low voice. “It’s like he got boobed.”

  “Over what?” Cole threw a lightning glance toward the doorway. “Over that out there?”

  Blue soberly nodded his head and watched Stel hurrying to Whaleman’s side. “They got these guys roped up pretty tight. It’s made me wonder, Tom. Is he going to be able to go through with this deal?”

  A growl rattled in Tom Cole’s throat “He’ll go through with it, or he’ll die trying.”

  “Yeah,” Blue said, “but if he dies, we all die—right?”

  Tom Cole glowered at his small companion, then whirled about and stalked outside. Blue looked at Hedge and said, “I guess that makes it unanimous. We either swim or sink, all of us, together.”

  “We’re already sunk,” Hedge commented lightly. “The Gunner is the only buoy close enough to grab o
nto.”

  “That’s what I said,” Blue replied. “All of us... together... to the briny deeps, and faster than light.”

  “Faster than what?”

  Blue frowned and moved slowly toward the door. “That’s what I intend to find out,” he muttered.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The Abort

  Whaleman’s uniform had been returned to him, more exact replicas having been made for a large number of the Reever men. With a feeling closely approaching guilt, he had donned the blue and black of the Defense Command and was examining himself in the mirror. A stranger stared back at him from the reflecting surface—an alien. A man who had been pledged to the defense of Solana since before his birth—and now plotting to undermine the authority of the governing board.

  More than inner emotions were responsible for the distorted image in the mirror. His face was scratched and bruised and a large welt traversed his forehead—this latter, he surmised, a result of his run-in with the tree on the previous night’s flight from the Reevers. His hands, also, were bruised and blistered—from his attack on the autosentinel.

  Stel came in while he was engrossed with his tarnished image, moved up behind him, and encircled him with her arms.

  “You are beautiful,” she told him.

  He smiled at her reflection and said, “Stel is beautiful. Our children will be so.”

  She released him and tinned away. “Half Reever and half Normer,” she murmured. “What will that make them?”

  “I also am Reever,” Zach quietly declared.

  “That isn’t true,” she replied. “So don’t say it.”

  “Is true,” he insisted. “Only Reever could do what Zach has done. This is Reever proof. In doing, in thinking—not in appearing. Zach Whaleman is a Reever.”

  She was gazing at him from beneath lowered lashes, half-reclining against the wall of the hut, hands clasped across her tummy. “Boob didn't bother you,” she pointed out.

  “Is explanation, having do with Reever orientation in early life. Zach not oriented as Reever, thus not affected by Boob.”