The Privateer 2: AN HONEST LIVING

by Zellmann, William

  Zant shook his head. "Sorry, General. I doubt they'll come. Locals who go to New Home these days have a tendency to not come back."

  Ochoa-Mariden waved dismissively. "She'll come back. If your report is true, I'll have the colony med team treat her, and have her identify the man responsible. I won't have men like that in my unit." He sighed. "Not that I have all that many men left. All right," he added. "I will personally scribe and sign a safe-conduct pass for the woman and two men, and send it with a hovertruck to pick her and two male escorts up and bring them here. You have my word. Can you give me her name?"

  Zant shrugged. "You know better than that, General. For what it's worth, she's called 'Blue-eye,' and one member of her escort will probably be the innkeeper, a big brute with a peg leg." He paused. "Our people tell me she's his favorite girl, and I'm told he's even thinking about taking her to wife." He paused. "Your people can pick them up on the north side of the market square at 0900 tomorrow. By the way," he continued, "he's banned your people from his inn, so you might keep an eye open for more trouble in King's Town."

  The General nodded, scribbling notes on his tablet. "I will. Now," he said, "I don't believe for a microsecond that you called because a woman got roughed up and raped. What do you really want?"

  Zant's smile reappeared. "Do you remember reading in Cale's original report that there are two times a year when people from the kingdoms can talk with the nomads?"

  The General frowned, and then his face cleared. "I remember. Are you telling me you talked to the nomads?"

  Zant nodded. "Just got back. We had a nice demonstration of star weapons and the new militias from the kingdoms. Then we suggested they wander east for a few thousand miles. I think they're going to do it, too.

  "Now," he added, "to get to the meat of the thing." His voice turned formal. "I must inform you that his Majesty Rajo, King of Valhalla, is present and listening to this conversation. For some strange reason, he doesn't trust you much, General, or us either, I suspect. When Cale and I insisted on calling you, he authorized it only on the condition that he listen in on the conversation."

  Ochoa-Mariden nodded to the screen. "An honor, Your Majesty. You will only learn that neither of us has anything to hide. Jenfu, are you saying that the nomads will be leaving, and are no longer a threat to the colony?"

  Zant shook his head. "No, not at all. I'm almost certain that the camps will migrate. We convinced them they could not attack against an entrenched enemy with star weapons.

  "But that's almost certain to arouse a hard core of haters, to launch an all-or-nothing suicide attack on the colony. We're calling to warn you."

  The General nodded. "I've seen that before, and studied it, of course." He frowned. "We're talking about do-or-die fanatics. If you're right, nothing but death will stop them. I think," he continued after a moment of deep thought, "I should have enough men to hold the colony. But I've got a long perimeter to guard, and those dinos move fast."

  Zant nodded. "That's how we figured it, too. We're willing to make an offer, but first I have to know whether you still plan to conquer the kingdoms."

  Ochoa-Mariden stared at the screen for a long moment. Then his shoulders slumped, and he suddenly looked ten years older. "That's no longer a tenable plan," he said. "I have neither the personnel nor the equipment to continue, in the face of the resistance we've encountered and our primary responsibility to the colony. We have already begun pulling back from Gorby."

  Zant nodded, and turned to someone off-camera, presumably King Rajo. "We'd better get some militia down there, your Majesty, before king Jorg of Terjo decides to double his kingdom's size."

  He turned back to the General. "All right, General. Here's our offer. One time only, special good deal. First, you pull all your forces out of Gorby and Nirvana. You're going to need them in the colony anyway.

  "Second, you immediately release King Karel, reinstate his guardsmen, and pull your own people out of the palace and out of King's Town. This is to be confirmed by ultracom contact with King Karel himself.

  "Third, you release King Karel's heir, young Ulrik, and send him back to King's Town. Again, this will be confirmed by ultracom with Ulrik.

  "Finally, you will rescind martial law in the colony, and surrender final authority to the Colony Council. This also to be confirmed by ultracom. We will, of course, make certain they are aware of the threat, remind them that you are the best military leader they have, and strongly recommend you retain authority over both your militia and the original colony militia, which you will rearm.

  "In other words, General, you pull back to the colony you have sworn to protect and should never have left and resume your original position as its protector.

  "In return, we will provide orbital and space-bound surveillance to scan for threats, we will call off our snipers and all other offensive operations, and all of our resources will be available for defense of the colony.

  "We do not expect you to allow militia from the kingdoms into the colony, and in fact we won't station them near the river or the bridge. But we will monitor closely, and if you need help, we'll be available to ride to the rescue. Once the threat of attack has passed, the colony's relations with the kings will be up to the Colony Council, of course.

  "We look forward to hearing from King Karel within the next 24 hours."

  The General frowned. "That's not much time. I can't pull all my forces back that quickly. Thanks to you, all I have is some hovertrucks – and we have plans for one of those tomorrow."

  Zant grinned. "We don't expect you to complete the pullback that soon, and to be honest, we don't expect an attack for at least two or three weeks. What we do expect is that King Karel and Ulrik will be released, and that martial law will be rescinded.

  He shrugged. "If you want some advice, I'd rescind martial law first, so the colony has a civilian leader. Then you can load your new leader and Ulrik into a hovertruck and send them to King's Town. Let King Karel see that the colony leader personally released him and reinstated his guard. Maybe there won't be quite as many hard feelings that way. And if I were you, I wouldn't go along. In fact, I'd hunker down in the colony and not give Karel or his men a shot at you."

  "Very well," the General replied, "but King Karel's guardsmen were replaced some time ago. I'm not sure we can locate all of them.

  Zant's jaunty grin was back. "Don't worry about that, General. I think we can find most of them within 24 hours."

  The General's eyes closed for a few seconds, and his face took on a resigned expression. Finally he opened them and straightened. "Very well, Jenfu. Your terms are accepted." He reached out and cut off contact.

  ********

  Tran was the youngest of the chiefs. He had been appointed less than two months before the disastrous Treaty trade where the star men had destroyed the spirit of the Free People. His chest had swelled with pride when he'd been appointed chief when old Jir had gone to the ancestors. He'd anticipated many years of leading his proud people on their migrations and on raids against the Despoilers. He had even anticipated a campaign to get the Free People to explore new lands, perhaps the Cursed Lands. The star men had lifted the curse on the land, and the Free People had even launched a scouting raid against the star men's village. Only three of the raiders had returned, but they had hurt the star men, killed nearly a dozen and burned two of their tents. Tran had been sure his camp would lead in exploring the formerly forbidden lands for the Free People, once the star men were killed.

  But now, the world was turned upside down. Yes, they would continue to migrate, but now, they were moving on the orders of the star men. A renewed anger surged in his chest. They were being forced to obey the star men! The Free Men! Ordered about like livestock! And then the final insult: the star men had offered to help them on their journey. To guide them, as though they were children who could not find their own water and game.

  He had argued for days and had been joined by Forn, but when the final vote was taken, it had been d
ecided that the Free People would retreat from the kingdoms, and explore new lands. Explore new lands! The phrase now had a foul taste in his mouth. They meant 'run like whipped canines', without courage or pride!

  He frowned. There was something . . . something in his own thoughts. He reviewed them. There! The star men had offered to scout for them, and even provide pictures as though seen from the sky! That was it! The star men could see from above. They could see the Free People. Watch them!

  He quickened his pace. He must tell Forn! They had been planning a final raid on the star men, to show them that the Free People were not cattle to be herded. After the Treaty trade, it seemed obvious that none of the raiders would return. It had been decided that he, Tran, would have the honor of leading the raid. He regretted that he would not have the glorious future of which he had dreamed. But the Star Men would know that they must respect the Free People!

  Still, this new information would change their plans. They would somehow have to conceal their preparations from the star men. They must be stealthy, as though approaching a herd of wild dinos. But this time they must conceal all their preparations, from leaving the Free Peoples' camp until the actual raid. Ha! He knew their secret! The star men had killed the pride of the Free People; now they would kill them back!

  ********

  Zant called Donord, and briefed him on Ochoa-Mariden's offer.

  "And you believe him?" Donord demanded. "You believe this man who has stolen the crown of good King Karel and enslaved our people?"

  Zant nodded. "Yes, I believe him. He is an honorable man, though his code of honor is different from yours. He was as angered and disgusted by the attack on Blue-eye as we were. He hopes she will be able to identify the man that attacked her. If she can, he will be tried and executed. The General promised to trigger the blaster himself. We've won, Donord, and the General will honor the conditions of his surrender." He explained the terms.

  "By tomorrow, King Karel will be back on his throne with young Ulrik at his side, and his own loyal guardsmen instead of star men who do not obey him. By the way, you should try to round up as many of the old guardsmen as you can by tomorrow. King Karel will have need of them when the star men leave.

  "Anyway," he continued, "The General is sending one the colony's hovertrucks to pick up Blue-eye and two male escorts, and take them to the colony. He has promised that she will be treated by the star healers. She will be healed within hours, and she will bear no scars from the attack."

  "There will be scars," Donord said darkly.

  Zant nodded. "Yes, there will. But the star healers also have counselors trained to help heal the mind and spirit as well as the body. Star men consider that a part of the healing process. I promise, Donord. She will be given healing treatment to the limits of star technology. Star men have no more love of rapists than do the people of Jumbo."

  He straightened. "Nine of the morning. Dee has her wrist comp; she can tell you when that is. And Donord," he added. "Wear your old leg. Your new one would be a giveaway that you are our agent in King's Town. Choose one of the old guardsmen to accompany you, if you wish. I wouldn't choose the Captain or Sergeant of the Guard, though," he said, grinning. "I think they'll be busy moving back into the palace."

  It was Cale who called Dee. "Don't worry about Blue-eye," he told her with a huge smile. He explained the plans for Blue-Eye.

  Dee's eyes lit. "Really! Oh, that'swonderful, Cale. I'll have her ready to travel. But why is he doing this?"

  Cale shrugged, though his grin didn't fade. "We've won, Dee. He's releasing King Karel and Ulrik, and pulling back to the colony. The war's over. I can come get you in Explorer."

  Dee's eyes closed in pleasure, and a wide grin grew on her lips. "Finally, a hot shower! Donord had a bathtub made for me, though the metalsmith didn't know that was what it was. And, of course, heat was no problem in the still house. A hot soak does wonders for sore, tired muscles. But I've been dreaming about hot needle sharp showers."

  Cale nodded. "Then you're ready to get back to being a star woman instead of an inn girl?"

  She rolled her eyes. "Inn girl, still tender, and all-around housemother for four young women who know more about men than they should at their ages."

  "And spy. Don't forget spy."

  The grin was back. "I'm not likely to forget. Hours and hours of listening to gossip in hopes of hearing something useful. I've learned a lot about men my teachers on Faith didn't tell me, and I know more about tending a still than I thought there was!"

  Cale's grin faded. "Well, I can pick you up and you can get back to tending a husband instead of a still. I'll pick you up where we landed for the ceremony. But I'd better wait a day or so, until Ochoa-Mariden's men are out of King's Town."

  She shrugged. "I'd want to wait until Blue-eye comes back anyway. The colony's med techs had better do their best for her, or they'll hear from me!"

  The hovertruck arrived on schedule, and uniformed star men helped Donord and his companion load the litter on which Blue-eye rested, Her face covered by clean, soft bandages. Nobody tried to take the mens' belt knives.

  The hovertruck wasn't bothered by the ruts in the main road, and once they hit the paved colony road, it sped up until a hard wind took Donord's breath away.

  They stopped for only a moment at the large gate the General had erected, before driving onto the neat, clean expanse of the base. The neatness was marred here and there by ruined and burned buildings, but reconstruction was already underway.

  The hovertruck slid to a stop and lowered to the ground in front of a long, single-story building. Four people in white jackets gently took over Blue-eye's litter. Donord noted approvingly that the ones who talked with Blue-eye directly, in soft, soothing tones, were all women.

  He and his companion were separated from Blue-eye, and shown to something called a 'waiting room'. Donord looked around interestedly. The room was amazingly clean. The walls were of some smooth, soft substance, and a soft green.

  A dozen padded chairs filled the room. Each had a metal pipe attached, which could be swung to the front or to one side, with a flat square on the end. Donord recognized the squares. They resembled something sire Cale had called a 'tablet'. He'd claimed it was like the reader they'd given Donord, but containing much more information.

  The Lady Dee had told Donord many stories of star magic during their weeks as spies. No, not magic. Science. At any rate, Donord was prepared to encounter wonders. He tried one of the chairs, and nearly jumped back up as he felt the chair move. He gripped the chair's arms convulsively, but then relaxed as he realized it had adjusted itself to his body and then stopped moving. He shifted from side to side, amused by the chair's efforts to accommodate his movements. His companion had jumped back up, and was seated crosslegged on the smooth, clean floor, eyeing the chair suspiciously.

  Two men entered the room, dressed in the uniforms of the star men. One's iron-grey hair marked him as the oldest star man he'd seen. The younger, dark-haired man was solidly built. Both moved with the assurance and economy of motion that marked warriors.

  Donord struggled to rise on his peg leg, his companion scrambling up to take his back.

  The older man's eyes flicked to Donord's leg and back to his face. "You are the innkeeper?" the man asked. Donord nodded.

  The man jerked a short nod. "I am General Ochoa-Mariden. I have come to convey to you how sorry I am about your girl. On our worlds, men do not do such things to women, even inn girls, and the few that do are severely punished. Were you present when it happened?"

  Donord eyed the man. So this was the General. The man was not particularly large but he was obviously fit. His manner was commanding, and reminded Donord of that of King Karel. This man was used to being obeyed. A guttural growl behind him prompted him to grab his companion's arm. This was no time to attack.

  Donord nodded. "We were both inside the inn. The man attacked her in the back yard, on the way back from the privy."

  The General nodde
d. "This is Major Odino, our Intelligence Officer. It will be his duty to learn exactly what happened, so we can make certain justice is done. He will talk with you, and he will talk with the girl, and he will talk with as many of our people as were present that night." His eyes narrowed. "We must know everything, to make sure there is a fair trial. If he is found guilty, the man will die. Will you help us?"

  Donord nodded, and the General jerked another of his quick, birdlike nods. "I thank you, sir. Now, I will leave you to the Major, here." He paused, and his voice gentled. "We have very good medical facilities here. I'm sure your girl will be fine. Now, I must be about my duties." The General turned on his heel and strode from the room.

  The Major's hearty friendliness resembled that of an innkeeper or a trader. Donord suppressed a smile. That manner usually made him put his hand protectively on his wallet.

  "I would like to talk with you separately, if you will. It is helpful to get two viewpoints. No two men see the same events the same way."

  Donord nodded. "Perhaps you should talk with my companion first. I think he is nervous to be among the star men."

  The major nodded, smiling broadly. "Of course, of course. Can't say I blame him. Uh, there is only one waiting room, sir. Would you mind waiting outside the building?"

  Donord was surprised. He'd expected to be guarded every moment of his stay in the colony by at least one armed man. This "Major" was simply releasing him to go where he willed!

  Once outside, though, Donord had no idea how to proceed. Where should he go? What should he try to see? Sire Zant had told him the war was over, but Donord felt that he was shirking his duty to spy by simply standing around outside the medical building.

  Once again, he marveled at how clean and neat everything was. All the roads and paths had clear, sharp edges, where grass stopped and hard gray expanses of roads or what looked like strips of small pebbles began. Even more perplexing, the grass seemed so short, and so uniform! Could the star men control the growth of the very grass beneath their feet? He bent to examine it more closely. No, he decided, they cut it. Who would bother cutting grass to a uniform height? And why?