The Thirteenth Man

by J. L. Doty

  They’d kept her locked in a small cabin for several hours. She’d searched it carefully and found nothing she could use as a weapon, though two gravity bunks against the wall and a lot of odds and ends told her it was the cabin of two crewmen. She’d screamed and raged and shouted for the first hour after the drug wore off, to no avail. She’d tried the intercom, but no one answered her. Finally, with her bladder bursting, she begged over the intercom for someone to take her to the toilet. There came no reply over the intercom, but a few minutes later the door of the cabin opened. Any thought she had of resistance evaporated at the hardened look of the two men who waited in the corridor beyond.

  They escorted her to what they referred to as the head and into one of the stalls there, though one man held the door of the stall open and they both stood there looking at her and waiting.

  “Won’t you allow me a little privacy?”

  The shorter of the two said, “Look, Princess, you can piss with us watching you, or you cannot piss at all, but we ain’t letting you out of our sight.”

  Del lifted her skirts, dropped her panties, sat down and, relieved herself. They escorted her back to the cabin.

  She waited for a ­couple more hours, pacing back and forth in the small cabin. Then, without warning the door to her cabin opened. The same two men stepped into the small space, and before she could react they lifted her off her feet, spun her about, and clamped her wrists behind her back with some sort of manacles. She demanded, “What are—­”

  The smaller of the two slapped her hard. “You keep your mouth shut, sweetheart. Every little peep out of you gets a slap, and each time it’ll be harder.”

  The big one, standing behind her, reached around her and cupped her breasts in his hands. He massaged them crudely, saying, “She’s awful pretty, yuh know. We got a little time. We could have some fun.”

  Del tried not to let her terror show as the smaller one considered it for a moment, then shook his head. “Nah, Zsutaka’d kill us. We play it straight.”

  They each lifted her by an armpit and her feet barely touched the floor as they half carried her through the ship. They lifted her through the open hatch of a small shuttle and deposited her in a seat. A few minutes later Zsutaka and Thraka sat down on either side of her. The three of them said nothing, and all Del could do was sit and fume as the shuttle pulled away from the freighter.

  “Your Grace,” Matula said. “We just got an uplink message that Duchess Telka is within range of the relay buoys and wishes to speak with you. We’re in a position to do a quick down-­transition.”

  While in transition Charlie had been monitoring the battle by uplink, a situation in which they could receive, but not transmit. They were prepared to down-­transit quickly if they did need to transmit. He knew his greater responsibility lay with the coalition, but he was torn, because to down-­transit now might give Dieter the time he needed to escape with Del.

  “Do so,” he said.

  “We’re about ten light-­years out,” Telka told him, once they’d established a conference link with her and Arthur and Roacka. “I have thirty warships, and we’ll be there in two days.”

  Arthur said, “And there are another twenty-­five warships coming in from Kinatha and the independent states, ten of which’ll be in nearspace within the next ten hours.”

  Roacka added, “That basically gives us parity now, a decent advantage by the end of the day, and a significant advantage when Her Grace gets here. This thing is over.”

  “No,” Charlie said sharply. “It’s not. We’re not leaving this to fester and come back and bite us again. It’s started, so we finish it here and now.”

  Telka shook her head. “I won’t be part of a bloodbath.”

  “I’m not planning a bloodbath. But we need to send Goutain back to Syndon with his nose badly bloodied or he’ll turn right around and come back.”

  Telka smiled, clearly liked the idea. “What do you have in mind?”

  “Matula, get me a senior de Satarna captain.” To Telka and Arthur he said, “Just follow my lead.”

  Five minutes later an overweight man with gray hair and sweat on his upper lip appeared on one of Charlie’s screens. He looked tired as he introduced himself as Commodore Thurston, and while Telka, Arthur, and Matula listened in, Thurston only saw Charlie.

  Charlie said, “I’m prepared to offer you terms, Commodore.”

  “Terms?” Thurston snarled. “You’re on the losing side, de Lunis.”

  “No, Commodore, look again. You’re facing a coalition of all the independent states, Aagerbanne, the Kinathin home world, and eight of the ten dukes.”

  “We have three of the Ten on our side. This is a sham.”

  “Duchess Telka, care to join the conversation?”

  Thurston paled when he saw Telka. She said, “Commodore. I, Rierma, Band, Chelko, Harrimo, Sig, and Charles formed an alliance to oppose your liege lord’s designs. And let me inform you that Theode and Gaida are under arrest for complicity in the murder of Cesare. Arthur, who will soon be reinstated as Duke de Maris, is presently in command of the de Maris forces, and has joined our coalition against you.”

  To Charlie she said—­for Thurston’s benefit, “Your Grace, my officers tell me we’ll be arriving in Borreggan nearspace within the next two days. I have a force of thirty warships which will be at your disposal.”

  A bead of sweat rolled down Thurston’s forehead. Charlie let the man absorb the information for a few moments, then said, “You know the numbers. You can see all the incoming warships and count as well as me. At this moment we have a slight edge in the numbers game. That’s going to change dramatically as fifty more warships down-­transit in-­system, all here to support our coalition.”

  Thurston stared at him angrily for several seconds and finally said, “Your terms?”

  “Withdraw now, leave the rest of this between us and Goutain, and you’ll be allowed to retreat unmolested. Return to your bases, stand down, and await a ruling from the Ten on the inheritance of the de Satarna ducal seat. But if you refuse to withdraw, the resulting bloodbath will be on your head, not mine. And it’ll be your blood, not ours.”

  Thurston regarded Charlie carefully for several seconds. “With Duke Nadama dead, I’ll have to speak with the other captains, try to get consensus.”

  Charlie nodded his understanding. “Do so. But don’t take too long about it.”

  “And I’ll have to speak to Lord Dieter.”

  Charlie grinned. “If you can find him, we both know he’ll tell you to fight to the death. And if you choose to obey him, we’ll happily accommodate you.”

  They cut the circuit. Charlie said to Arthur and Telka, “You can handle this. I’ve got to get to Del.”

  “Go,” Arthur said, though Telka, unaware of the situation, frowned.

  Dieter had waited a long time for this. Delilah would soon be his, and he’d teach her what it meant to defy him.

  By prior agreement, the corvette and the tramp freighter took up positions two million kilometers apart, one-­half light-­year from the battle at the edge of Borreggan nearspace. Accompanied by a ­couple of armed spacers, Dieter boarded the corvette’s shuttle, which could only do about thirty gravities, then paced impatiently up and down the length of its passenger cabin during the hour it took to get to the point halfway between the two waiting ships. The freighter’s shuttle was slower and took even longer to get there. It was a nuisance more than anything, and he’d make that little bitch pay for that too.

  His implants informed him he had an urgent message coming in from the corvette’s captain. He put it through. “Your Lordship, I received a message from Commodore Thurston. I’m sorry to inform you that your father is dead.”

  The man waited for some sort of response, as if Dieter would grieve for his father. Dieter simply said, “Is there more?”

  “Yes
, Your Lordship. Commodore Thurston and the senior officers of your father’s fleet are withdrawing from the battle. Apparently, these Andyne-­Borreggan pirates have formed some sort of alliance, and their incoming reinforcements have given them an overwhelming advantage.”

  Dieter didn’t care about this battle, and as for his father, he cared only that now he’d inherit the de Satarna ducal seat. “Hold your position. Soon I’ll have what I came for and we can leave.”

  “But Your Lordship—­”

  “I said hold your position. And don’t argue with me.” He’d deal with these traitors later.

  “Of course, Your Lordship. As you wish.”

  Dieter had to wait another half hour while the two shuttles mated airlocks. When they finally popped the seals he was fit to be tied. A man he didn’t know came through the airlock first; obviously a thug, he wore rather grubby spacer’s attire with no insignia. Zsutaka followed him wearing similar attire but with captain’s stripes. Behind Zsutaka came Delilah pushed along by Thraka, her hands restrained behind her back. She stopped in front of Dieter, opened her mouth to say something, and he decided to start her instruction then and there. He hit her, not a slap but a solid punch to her face, and she went down like a rag doll. “You fucking cunt,” he snarled.

  She tried to sit up, but with her hands manacled behind her, she could only thrash around. Thraka looked a question at him and he nodded, so Thraka bent down and helped her to her feet, though she swayed unsteadily and couldn’t stand without his support.

  “Remove the manacles,” Dieter said, and Thraka complied.

  “And my payment?” Zsutaka asked.

  Dieter nodded to one of the armed spacers, who handed Zsutaka a small case. “All cash,” Dieter said. “Aagerbanni currency as you requested.”

  Zsutaka started to say something but hesitated and suddenly put a finger to his ear, obviously listening to something. At the same moment, the corvette’s captain said through Dieter’s implants, “Your Lordship, we’ve just picked up a transition wake, coming in fast from the vicinity of the battle. Its transition signature would indicate a destroyer.”

  “How far out?” Dieter demanded.

  “Less than half an hour, Your Lordship.”

  Dieter screamed, “What kind of idiot are you, that you can’t see a transition wake until it’s right on top of us?”

  “I’m sorry, Your Lordship, but the nuclear background of the battle has obscured everything. It’s only now become obvious—­”

  Zsutaka was shouting into his own implants. Dieter shouted into his, “Come and get me. Now!”

  Everyone pulled out weapons, but Zsutaka shouted, “Hold your fire.”

  “Yes,” Dieter shouted to his men, realizing that in the cramped confines of the shuttle they’d all end up dead. “Hold your fire.”

  Zsutaka snarled, “Is this a double cross?”

  “No,” Dieter shouted. “That’s one of my enemies coming in.”

  “Then tell your corvette to hold her position.”

  Dieter complied, then pleaded, “But we all have to get out of here. That warship has my corvette badly outgunned, and they’re not going to be friendly to either of us.”

  Delilah grinned, though the side of her face had begun to swell and it was a bit lopsided. He wanted to hit her again, but that would have to wait.

  “All right,” Dieter said, waving a hand at the open airlock. “Get out. Get out. We’re both on our own.”

  Zsutaka and his spacers backed carefully out through the airlock, and they lost more time separating the two shuttles’ airlocks without damaging the seals.

  As the shuttle pilot firewalled its engines, Dieter ordered the corvette to come in and pick them up, and no doubt Zsutaka was ordering his freighter to do the same. Dieter ordered the corvette to fire upon the freighter and its shuttle; Zsutaka and his crew were scum anyway. The freighter fired back with what little firepower it possessed. The shuttle pilot took evasive action, costing them even more time.

  “Down-­transition.”

  Charlie closed his eyes and waited, listening to the bridge chatter.

  “We’re clear, drones out.”

  There was a delay as the drones gathered and fed them scan data.

  “Captain, I’ve got a small de Satarna corvette off the starboard bow, ranging at one million kilometers, apparently rendezvousing with and picking up a shuttle. There’s also an unidentified freighter off the port bow, same range and apparently rendezvousing with and picking up another shuttle. And they’re firing on each other.”

  Matula said, “Targeting solutions on both. I want shots across both bows soonest, and remind those gun batteries the princess is out there somewhere, so we don’t start shooting anything until we know where she is.”

  “Targeting solutions set, sir.”

  “Fire.”

  The destroyer’s hull thrummed as her main transition batteries slammed shells into transition.

  “Com, broadcast a message to both to cease fire, or we get serious. And tell them to stand down and prepare to be boarded. And if they try to run, we shoot to kill.”

  “Aye, aye, sir.”

  Things calmed down at that point and the shooting stopped.

  The captain of the corvette said he didn’t know anything about Delilah. It took some convincing, but the captain of the freighter admitted transporting Delilah, and delivering her to Dieter. “But we didn’t know she was being held against her will,” Zsutaka said. That was probably a lie, but the main thing was that she wasn’t on his ship either.

  At that point Charlie personally took over and spoke directly with the corvette’s captain. He never got the man’s name, but the captain was clearly scared. “You do know that Nadama is dead, the de Satarna forces are withdrawing, and Goutain’s remaining forces are heavily outnumbered, correct?”

  The man said, “I do. And we’d like to withdraw under the same terms.”

  Charlie smiled, but it was purposefully an unpleasant one. “I wouldn’t have a problem with that, except you’re in possession of the person of Her Royal Highness, Delilah, being held against her will, which is a hanging offense.”

  “Not us,” the man said frantically. “Not me and my crew. We’re merely transporting Lord Dieter. It’s he who kidnapped her.”

  “And you aided and abetted him.”

  “No. No. We didn’t know what he was coming after.”

  “Then turn the two of them over to me.”

  The man thought about it for several seconds, his eyes blinking fearfully. Charlie let him have the time necessary to realize he had no choice. He finally nodded and said, “Okay—­” But before he could say more Dieter’s image appeared next to his. He stood behind a console in the cramped confines of a shuttle cabin. Del stood in front of him, held there by his left hand gripped in her hair pulling her head back and exposing her throat. His right hand held a knife beneath her chin. Her left eye was badly swollen, a nasty bruise forming around a jagged cut high on her cheek, a trickle of blood inching its way down her face. She looked more angry than scared. “Come and get her yourself, de Lunis,” Dieter said, grinning, “or she dies.”

  CHAPTER 33

  MANO-­A-­MANO, SORT OF

  The corvette had a small ser­vice bay for its shuttle, but it wouldn’t accommodate the destroyer’s gunboat, and in any case Dieter was holed up there with Delilah. So they mated the gunboat’s airlock to a personnel hatch on the side of the corvette. Matula’s executive officer, Lieutenant Commander Jackosa, boarded the corvette first, accompanied by twenty armed marines in light body armor. They insisted that Charlie remain behind in the gunboat with the twins until Jackosa had secured the corvette. No sense giving some fool the chance to become a dead hero by killing the de Lunis.

  While Charlie waited he monitored the reports on the battle still raging a half light-­year
away. The de Satarna forces had withdrawn completely, leaving Goutain and the Syndonese to face overwhelming odds, which had quickly turned into a rout. The Syndonese forces ran, and Charlie gave orders to pursue them until they reached Syndon.

  When they got the all-­clear from Jackosa, Add and Ell boarded the corvette and led Charlie through the ship past de Satarna crewmen who wouldn’t meet his eyes. The last vestiges of the anesthesia had worn off and the pain in Charlie’s side had become a nagging reminder that he was only hours out of surgery. They’d pumped him full of accelerated healing drugs, which meant that in another day or so he’d be as good as new, but not today. Add and Ell led him directly to a hatch leading to the shuttle ser­vice bay, where the corvette’s captain waited flanked by two of Charlie’s marines.

  “Your Grace,” the man said, bowing his head and averting his eyes. “As the heir to the de Satarna ducal seat, Lord Dieter has access codes on this ship that not even I can override. He’s locked himself alone with Princess Delilah in the ser­vice bay. He says he’ll open this one hatch briefly, but if anyone but you comes through it, or if we don’t allow it to shut behind you, she dies.”

  There was some heated discussion between Add, Ell, and the marines about how they might storm the ser­vice bay, since of course it was unthinkable that Charlie would go in there alone, even for the princess. As they argued, Charlie thought about the POW camps and the chain. He knew it was an irrational thought, but he’d always felt that he’d let three thousand men die on that chain, that somehow he’d let them down. And while Add and Ell and the marines were confident that Dieter was bluffing, they didn’t know Dieter like Charlie knew Dieter. No, he wasn’t going to let Del down too.

  “Enough,” Charlie said. “I’m going in. That’s the end of it.”

  Ell spoke in an icy tone, “Absolutely not. You can’t—­”

  Charlie cut her off. “The decision’s made. It’s done.”

  “I won’t let you.” She stepped in front of the hatch and stood there facing him, fists on her hips. “You’ll have to go through me.”