“We didn’t kill any, Speaker, but we holed a couple of them. From reading your acceleration, you’ve got them outrun. We’ll see you on the other side as soon as we can change vector.” Mason wore a look of grim determination.
“Affirmative. Claude, I’m naming you Deputy Speaker in case anything happens. You’re to follow Solomon Carrasco or Galactic Master Kraal’s orders in the event of my death or disability.”
“Death or disability? I taught you better than that. I’ll acknowledge the command structure, however. See you on the other side, Connie. We assume any Arpeggian is fair game.”
“So long as you don’t risk yourself or your ship, Claude.” She smiled and gave him a firm nod. “Take care. God be with you.”
“Don’t risk Dancer? Who in hell are you talking to? We’re talking about killing Arpeggians, here, not dealing with a serious threat. I’ve killed better pirates than Sellers. This is Archon’s fleet!”
“Just be careful. You’re our only hope for backup.” Then she killed the connection.
Connie pulled her helmet back and shook out her hair, Stone cold coffee had left a ring in her cup.
“Out of range, Speaker,” Art whooped. “We’re going to make it!”
“All right, stand down from stations.” Connie ordered. “You have no idea how happy I’ll be to give this ship back to Carrasco!”
“What?” Art cried. “Tired of us already?”
* * *
Sabot slapped a black-gloved hand on the console before him. “So close, so cursed close!” He glared at the screen where Archon’s fleet shot away after breaking off their attack.
Elvina looked up from the navcomm, aware of the silence on the bridge as weapons officers and comm personnel waited for Sabot’s anger to be unleashed.
“Boat is pulling away. They’ve got us on acceleration. We couldn’t have done more. For the moment, their technology is superior,” Elvina told her father.
“And you didn’t find a flaw we could exploit within the ship?” Sellers leaned back in his command chair, gut in turmoil. The white dot of Boaz seemed to mock him.
She turned, stretching, the fullness of her young body straining at the classic black uniform. A tigress, she stood before him, breasts high, head back, the violent blue of her eyes meeting his. “I couldn’t penetrate the system— and, Father, I was brilliant. I can tell you the ship spied on almost everything I did. No matter which man I bedded, the Captain changed his attitude toward the man immediately. I doubt he was even aware of it. I regret I never had the chance to bed Carrasco—but he was withdrawn, elusive. I got close once—with a triple dose of hormone. Perhaps, had I managed to get something in his drink . . .Ah, well, what secrets I could have milked from his reeling mind.
“Ben Geller really tipped the balance. He was smarter than the others—except Ngoro, of course. He was Mossad, didn’t let down—not even on the verge of orgasm.”
“Yet you seduced him?” Sellers lifted an eyebrow.
She smiled cunningly. “It took a while, Father. A most difficult game when you know you’re under observation the whole time. I had to make the injection just as they climaxed, keep them on top while I hooked up the apparatus, whispered the questions in their ears, and read the answers on the machine. I pumped Lietov, Hitavia, and Texahi that way time after time. Ben Geller, however, grew suspicious when he woke up in my arms. I don’t know, perhaps the psych I used on him left something, a fuzziness. Those black tubes might need refinement.”
“Or maybe he doesn’t sleep in a strange woman’s arms after sex? But we don’t need to worry about Israeli power reinforcing the Brotherhood?”
“He had no idea of the stakes.” She swung around lithely, smiling at Kralacheck when he glanced up from his sensor station. He winked, a slow smile spreading on his lips, the light of anticipation in his eyes. She wiggled her hips suggestively.
Sellers frowned at the screen where Boaz boosted away from him. Above, Archon’s fleet shed delta V, seeking to change vector. Another couple of minutes, and he’d have had Boaz, crippled her. At that moment, he could have wheeled on Archon’s fleet, blasted it, and dropped to obtain the alien prize. Now, he must scramble again, race against Brotherhood.
“But who commands her?”
Elvina dropped down beside him, staring at the monitor. “To react with that much talent? Either Carrasco or Constance.”
“But Carrasco is dead.”
She met his chilling eyes. “So we assume. Only, Father, in our experience, the man has the lives of a cat!”
“This can be saved yet—as long as they don’t use the Artifact against us.”
She tapped a long thumbnail against her white teeth. “I don’t think Carrasco will. Too much moral rectitude. But Constance? You were a fool to bed her, Father. She’s much too dynamic to forgive you for using her like that. She’s not only capable of using the machine against us, she’d revel in your destruction. I thought I’d killed her. I didn’t know an antidote for sitah existed.”
Sabot smiled. “Then perhaps she’ll be mine in the end? Who knows. The gamble is greater now, that’s all.”
She spun toward him, quick as a cat, dropping to stare into his frosty eyes. “Our House is at stake, Father. I’d take a very dim view if you ruined it.”
* * *
She studied her surroundings, measuring, computing the environment. Artificial gravity tugged at her as she prodded with her sensors.
Stunned, she withdrew. Intelligence! This ship thought!
Carefully, she studied the matrices. So much more intelligent than the animals! Could the ship be Master? Was that the secret of the animals? If so, the white ship must be destroyed—and the animals would do that in the end given the choice of serving the white ship or working her spring. Organic life, of course, always bore that flaw.
Pausing for a moment, she searched about, noting Sellers diving down from the first moon. Over the following hours, she watched the battle, observing, integrating data, learning about her new environment.
Why didn’t the woman use her to destroy Sellers? Such a simple task, yet they left her in the cargo bay and relied on such inferior particle beams and symmetry fluxing shields. But then organic life had always been plagued by such odd notions as ritual combat. Only the Vyte had managed to overcome such biological fantasy—and replaced it with other fantasies just as damning.
No matter, wait . . . wait and see. After all, time was her ally.
CHAPTER XXXII
“I’m starting to think I’m not even human anymore!” Sol grumbled as he stood in the walker for the first time, mind making the machine do what his legs were supposed to. “It’ll only be for a week,” Connie said shortly, arms crossed as she watched. “Were it not for your ship, you’d be lying in the stasis locker next to my father. Don’t complain about a windfall.”
Sol shot her an irritated glance. “Maybe, but I’ve spent half my life in a med unit and the other half relearning my body. It gets old.”
Boaz broke in, “Please try and walk now that you have mastered standing.”
“Mechanical despot!” Sol mumbled. Gingerly he took a step, then another. “Want to see me run?” He asked, looking mildly at Boaz’s speaker.
“Want to sit in a med unit while I grow your spine back together again?” The ship responded easily.
“Want to go dive through a black hole?” Sol countered, face lined with disgust.
“Leave him crippled!” Connie decided, throwing her hands up. “He ought to feel grateful to be alive. Maybe he wants to suffer for some perverse reason.”
Boaz kept her tone even. “Such depression is normal, Speaker. I think he’ll grow out of it.”
Sol started out the hatch. “If you two hens will excuse me, I have a meeting to go to.”
Connie caught up with him as he hobbled uncertainly on his metal-reinforced legs. “All right, Sol, what is it? You’ve been worse than a baited mega since you woke up two days ago. The ship’s in good shape. The
Hound is behind us. You’re alive. Why are you making everyone so miserable?”
He looked at her, eyes blank. “Well, if everything is going so well, why’d you even bother to wake me up?”
“Oh,” Connie said softly, “I see. That primitive male ego raises its head. Boaz, do you agree?”
“I do. Again, it’s normal, after a major shock to the body and subsequent loss of command during his incapacity. No matter that his ability provided for our escape, his subconscious has been mulling it over while his body healed.”
Sol bit his lip, feeling a vortex building in his gut. “Look, let’s just see what the ambassadors have to say. We’ll worry about my state of mind later.” He’d said it more sharply than he’d meant to and Connie stiffened slightly.
“Very well.”
The lounge sprouted familiar faces, having been turned into a large conference room. A spontaneous outburst of applause greeted Sol as he entered awkwardly on his temporary prosthesis. He smiled, waving down the questions they all tried to ask at once.
“Quiet!” Nikita Malakova boomed in his deep bass voice. The room stilled instantly. “Captain, for all of us, it is a miracle to see you here, alive, walking no less! How can we express what we feel . . . what we owe you?” Nikita shook his head, eyes glowing.
“I did what any of you would have.” Sol looked around the room. “In the meantime, let’s get on to business. I think you heard Elvina Sellers discussing the alien ship? That ship is aboard Boaz at present. The combat you experienced took place as we outran the Arpeggians. We’ve got it. They want it.”
A mutter of low voices filled the room as Connie added. “The alien vessel, which we refer to simply as the Artifact, is the last deadly relic of a long-vanished race. Ladies and gentlemen, it offers its possessor the power to control the Confederacy. Some of you may have witnessed the tapes made when Fan Jordan surrounded Boaz. That was the Artifact in action. Three battle-class star ships were popped out of space . . . just that quickly. The characteristics of the ship go even beyond that. My father moved a dense blue-white star out of space.”
“If this ship is so deadly, why don’t we destroy it?” Dee asked.
Connie waved down the ruckus that exploded. “To begin with, we don’t know how. Please, remember, we’re dealing with alien technology. Besides, the ship is more than a weapon. With its powers, our scientists can see the inside of stars, explore galaxies a billion light-years from ours in a single afternoon. I watched my father peer into the guts of an atom. This is the greatest research tool ever. Not in two thousand years will humans have the like—if then. It is the greatest opportunity ever in the history of the human race. Perhaps it’s an alien joke, but incomprehensible potential comes at the risk of incomprehensible threat.”
They sat, stunned. Charney Hendricks, bushy mustache twitching, got to his feet. “If this is truly the case. If the machine does what you say, we can solve mysteries which have baffled men since the beginning of time. It is a priceless acquisition. We must take this ship to University immediately.” He looked at the faces around him, hands extended, eyes pleading.
Sol rapped the table as the gabble of voices rose. “I would remind you, this ship lies at the center of a vortex of interstellar politics. The Arpeggians will do anything—and I mean anything—to get their hands on this prize. Whoever controls the device, controls the galaxy. Do you understand?” He searched their faces. “We are talking about the ultimate power in space—possibly in the universe! It can see everything. There’s no place to hide where this device can’t probe. While on the second moon, I looked inside the Confederate Council room. I killed those three New Maine ships. I heard my First Officers dickering with Jordan on the bridge of Boat, and when Fan attacked, I worked the device that eliminated those ships.”
He studied them, eyes bright. “Yes, Dr. Hendricks, the Artifact has the power to answer any question. The question we cannot afford to answer, however, is if it’s true that ultimate power ultimately corrupts. You’ll get one chance to make a mistake with the Artifact! After that, he who controls it ... controls humanity.”
“I think you overestimate the danger, Captain!” Charney Hendricks protested. “To consider an artifact capable of—”
“He does not!” Constance stood, hands on hips, voice like a whip. “Please, remember, my father and I discovered it in the first place. I’ve seen its potentials. We’ve barely scratched the surface in our understanding of this thing. Its true powers are unknown. What we have found, however, may be the key to matter transmutation, instantaneous interstellar transportation, subatomic physics, and Lord knows what else. I also watched my father remove the mice from one of his ships, some sort of scan function. What it did to mice can be done to humans, ships, planets, or solar systems. Do you want a crusader to get hold of such power? How can you safeguard it?”
Hendricks shook his head. “You know that what you say goes beyond any possible explanation of physics? You’re overreacting. I’m sure what you thought you saw—”
“How often, Doctor, has the same been said?” Sol asked. “In the early twentieth century, flight was considered a physical impossibility. In the early twenty-first century, light speed was proved to be an impossible barrier! Who are you to say what is possible given the ability to see into stars? Knowledge overcomes any barrier, Doctor!”
Hendricks smiled condescendingly. “Captain, I don’t doubt your abilities to command a ship such as this. Do you doubt mine as a scientist with—”
“Damn it, we’re talking alien technology here. No, I don’t doubt your ability in human science.”
Mark Lietov stood, looking around, drawing attention before he began. “Captain, let’s assume you’re correct in all the claims you’re making. This Artifact will do all these things. Are we to understand you’ll give it to the Brotherhood first? Will any of the other governments in the Confederacy see it after that? Will it not become just another tool to pursue your political policies?”
“The very reason you’re all here is to make sure that every government’s interests are met. You are all—”
“Bah!” Lietov exploded. “I think this is all a whitewash to give legitimacy to Brotherhood theft of the device!”
Nikita Malakova rose like a Gulagi bear, roaring, “Enough, Mark! I personally trust the Captain.” He glared around the room, black beard quivering with the strength of his emotion. “If this had been a cover-up, why didn’t he leave us in the Port Authority office to be blown to bits?”
“And that might have been cleverly arranged! Why did that Arpeggian cut him loose? Who was that man?” Lietov turned to look at Carrasco. “A Brotherhood agent perhaps, Captain?”
“Carefully arranged?” Nikita exploded, waving meaty hands violently. “So carefully arranged the Captain died getting us off the planet? His back was broken! His legs dangled, blood ran from every orifice in his body!”
“A remarkable recovery,” Lietov waved. “Can you believe this man was dead?” His voice almost broke with incredulity.
“Perhaps I can shed some light on the Captain’s recovery.” Texahi rose and looked around. “The wonders of his ship’s hospital saved my life. I have since been briefed by First Officer Arturian on how Elvina Young’s poison worked. Basically, the ship had to regenerate the nerves which led to my heart. I have no doubt as to the seriousness of the Captain’s condition.”
“Then you’ve been duped!” Lietov waved him off. “Did the great ship brainwash you, Texahi?”
“It did not!” Texahi’s eyes burned as he glared at the Sirian diplomat. “Perhaps I’m not a craven politician like the rest of you . . . social vermin, but I have my own mind and—”
“Sit down!” Medea hissed, pointing. Texahi hesitated, struggling with himself. Then, with dignity, he walked from the room, back straight.
“Enough of this bickering,” Tayash Niter said in annoyance. “This isn’t the Council! We have a very serious matter to discuss here. I suggest that we quit throwing i
mprobable accusations around and see if we can’t make some meaningful progress over how to employ this Artifact for human use.”
“The Captain says this is the ultimate spy device,” someone quipped. “Gulag Sector wants a thousand already!”
Sparse laughter broke out, defusing some of the tension.
Lietov’s face had drained to a deathly pallor. “Laugh if you will! For one, I refuse . . . refuse to end up as a Brotherhood puppet!”
Tayash Niter stood up. “But could this thing really find all of the independent stations? They’re spreading through space in all directions! How could this thing track them down?”
Connie raised her hands, palms outward. “We don’t know the limits of the automated search function. I would suspect it could. From what we know about the aliens— and that’s enough to be scary—they’d have faced the same problem. Space is wide open. It’s my suspicion that the mummy we took to Kraal was the last of his kind. They killed themselves off, ambassadors. I suggest you not forget that.”
“How can you say that?” Lietov demanded, Charney Hendricks nodding agreement.
“Assume you had ultimate power, Mark,” Connie told him. “Assume Admiral Sellers also had ultimate power. Where would it end between you?”
“But we are mm—intelligent human beings!” Lietov protested, “There is no need for us to extinguish ourselves!”
“Intelligent? You blindly accuse the Brotherhood— whose motives you don’t even know! And can’t prove! At same time, you call the Hound—Arpeggian Planet Burner—a man?” Malakova cried. “Did I see Solomon Carrasco cut Joseph Young into pieces? Did I see him shoot first? You are irrational!”
“Please,” Sol soothed. “Such talk gets us nowhere. The fact remains—as Archon so aptly put it—a man can begin as a saint, but where does your own righteousness end and another man’s begin? For example, let us assume I had followed my inclination and popped Hunter out of space. What’s next? Arpeggio? We might agree space is better without them. And then if Last Chance disagrees violently with Confederate policy, do we destroy them? What would have been the fate of Sirius during the unrest a few years back? What of the innocents there?”
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