Not a Prison Ship

by A. C. Ellas

  The door didn’t respond to Mouse’s command to open, and in a flash, he realized why. The takedown had been too easy, and Cai hadn’t reclaimed it. Obviously, the shipnet they had access to was a dummy network, a fake overlaying the real, hardened network. And they’d fallen for it. He explained the problem succinctly. “Cai tricked us. We never cracked the shipnet; he hid it behind a smokescreen that let us think we’d taken it. Once we take the bridge, I can use the battle ‘puter to crack the shipnet for real.”

  “Can you get the door open?” Dread had his arms crossed over his chest now and was glowering at him. Mouse had been in charge of the battle computer—it was his program that was supposed to invade the shipnet and take it over.

  “I should be able to,” Mouse said quickly and turned his mind to the physical obstacle itself. He visualized the physical linkage holding the door sealed releasing, the door sliding open. When he opened his eyes, the door was open and Dread was already halfway through it. For a moment, he wondered what would happen if he released his hold on the hatch. He pictured the man cut in two by the hardened metal, he’d already heard the doors had no safety sensors, and that Geff had lost a leg to one of them during the ship’s counterattack. Dread was through the door before Mouse could decide if the risk was worth it. He held the door open for the rest of the crew. Ten feet ahead, another locked door blocked their path.

  The only good thing here was that it was late watch. Everyone was sleeping and nobody knew they’d escaped. They had plenty of time to work their way, hatch by hatch, to the bridge. Once they’d taken the bridge, with Cai incapacitated, the Laughing Owl would be theirs. It occurred to him, as he worked on the second door, that Cai’s chambers were much closer than the bridge. He could use the console there to force all the doors open.

  * * * *

  “Nick.”

  The sound of Cai’s voice over the shipnet was easily the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard. “Cai, are you okay?” he sent back immediately. “The pirates believe you incapacitated.”

  “I had to burn out my data port to break free of the sim. Thank you, by the way, your call saved me. I see that the pirates are slowly advancing up the corridor. What’s your plan?”

  “The first marine company is waiting in the cross corridors to either side of the bridge hatch. There wasn’t time to get them in the corridor alcoves, but they’re armed, armored and ready. When the pirates reach the last corridor segment, the second marine company will enter the corridor behind them, cutting off their retreat.”

  “A three-way crossfire, very nice,” Cai just about purred. “Tell them not to kill Mouse; I have plans for that one.”

  “They’ll try, but... there can’t be any guarantees in battle.”

  “I understand, Nick.” Cai sent the impression of a ruthless smile. “If Mouse knew what I have planned for him, he’d opt for suicide.”

  “You’re giving him to the Guild, aren’t you?” Nick could think of no worse punishment—the Psionics Guild was not known for mercy and had zero belief in the rights of individuals. If you were a psion, they would find you, claim you, suppress or wipe your memories and then train you to use your talents to the maximum benefit of society as a whole. And legally, they had every right to do what they did. Interstellar space travel depended on the Psionics Guild and Astrogators were just the tip of the iceberg. Psions were used in various essential capacities in multiple branches of both the government and private industry. They were considered irreplaceable assets, and although care was taken to make sure the psions were well-cared for, they had very little freedom.

  “Yes. The Guild can use talents like his—very strong telekinesis, a little telepathy, a little clairvoyance. He fooled me, using a mental smokescreen to hide what he really was from me. It’s kind of ironic; I used a similar façade to hide the shipnet.”

  Nick chuckled and turned his attention back to the corridor. They were halfway to the bridge. He was momentarily tempted to open the doors just to speed things along, but that desire withered and died in an instant when four of the pirates, Mouse at their head, turned off the central corridor. “Cai, you’re getting company.”

  “I can handle it,” Cai replied. “Do not change the attack plan. My six and I are more than a match for four pirates.”

  “Understood.” Nick had to trust that Cai knew what he was doing, and the six were crack shots—he’d seen that himself. But he worried anyway. He loved Cai too much to not worry.

  * * * *

  Dread hadn’t survived this long by being foolhardy. He didn’t trust that they were as undetected as everyone else seemed to believe. The locked hatches in the corridor—sure, it was plausible that a sensor error in the airlock had tripped the safeties, but the timing was highly suspicious. So when Mouse peeled off toward the Astrogator’s chambers, Dread went with him. The weakest part of every starship, its one, true, unavoidable point of vulnerability was the Astrogator.

  No Gator, no ship, as simple as that. If the Gator died, the ship’s neurologics would no longer work, since they were tuned to the Gator’s brainwaves. Not a single system of the starship was untouched by neurologics, everything depended on their functioning. That was why the Gators were usually pampered like kings but were essentially slaves. A gilded cage is still a cage, and this songbird’s no different than any other—he’s weak.

  His son, Mouse, had already defeated the Gator, but Dread knew the man would have value as a hostage against the military crew and officers of this ship. Captain Steele would capitulate or see the Rumpleteazer rendered useless.

  Ahead of him, Mouse palmed the door to the Gator’s chambers, and the hatch opened silently. The young man flashed a cocky glance back at the other three. “Follow me. Cai’s in his bedroom, enjoying a sim of sucking our cocks. We have all the time we need, the console’s in the front room.”

  “What about his six?” Dread asked impatiently.

  “They haven’t stirred,” Mouse replied. “I think the sim has them locked down along with their Gator. I dipped my wick in him before I left, and they didn’t try to stop me; they didn’t even leave the room he keeps them in.”

  Dread’s lips twitched in amusement, but he gestured for Mouse to proceed. They walked into Cai’s chambers. The front room was rather plain, surprisingly so, for the Gators usually lived in the lap of luxury and crammed their space with fine furniture, art and anything else that tickled their fancy. This room had a seating area to one side—a few couches, a coffee table—and the console to the other side. As usual, three doors punctuated the wall opposite. The port-side door should lead to the dining room, kitchen and sleeping area for the six. The starboard-side door led to the Gator’s study, bedroom and bathroom. The central door led to the Astrogation Chamber.

  The lighting was dim but not dark; they could see clearly. Mouse glanced about as he headed for the console. “Nothing’s changed,” he announced like that proved anything. There was hardly anything in this room that could change. There was no trash, no stray books or knickknacks cluttering the table, not even a coffee mug. The room was insanely clean by Dread’s standards. Mouse sat down before the console. Dread decided to take a look at Cai. He strode to the starboard door and actually had a hand on the old-fashioned door handle when the port door opened.

  The Gator’s six came out shooting. In an instant, Gobber and Krell were down. Mouse was staring, his expression one of shock. Dread wrenched the door open and leaped through it as he drew his sidearm. He spun and slammed the door shut, bolted it, then dived to the left in time to avoid a blast that impacted the wall and crackled for a moment. He turned to face the Gator, who was very much awake. The data port behind his left ear looked scorched—the Gator had burned it out, an impressive feat, but that wouldn’t be enough to save Cai from his fate.

  Dread fired, aiming with exquisite care, and hit exactly what he’d aimed for—the Gator’s left kneecap. It exploded outward in a rain of blood and flesh and bone and crystal. C
ai screamed, staggered and fell. Dread advanced to stand over the Gator, confident that the pain and shock would keep the man subdued. He pointed the muzzle of the gun at the Gator’s head. “Surrender, fool.”

  Cai opened his eyes, and Dread had a momentary impression of the most intensely blue pair of eyes he’d ever seen, and then, he was on the deck, clutching his head and screaming as waves of sheer sound crashing into his head, alternating with agonizing pain. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t think, he couldn’t react other than by screaming and wishing for an end to the pain and noise. Unconsciousness came as a blessed relief.

  * * * *

  Cai stared at his prisoners grimly while two of his six worked to stabilize his shattered knee. He already knew he’d need surgery to repair it; he just needed it to hold together long enough to reach Earth orbit. Mouse had been taken down by his six while he’d been confronting Dread. The pirate captain had underestimated him, or he’d have worn some sort of protection from telepathic attack. It wouldn’t have done him any good, but the man had been so arrogant, he hadn’t even made the attempt. Or does he really think that little of Astrogators?

  He shook himself and turned his attention to Mouse. He felt a strange, vague attraction for the man. He traced the sensation to his data port after a few false starts and ruthlessly burned out the circuits Mouse had changed. It didn’t even hurt that much, not too surprisingly since the data port was, for all intents and purposes, dead metal in his head. It would be replaced at the same time as his knee was repaired.

  Time passed oddly for Cai. Some minutes went by with excruciating slowness, every second etching into his memory, such as when Fo-vi and On-em had pulled his left leg into proper alignment before splinting it. Other minutes flew by without notice, aided by the delightful cocoon of the drug haze that kept Cai from really noticing how much pain he should be in.

  During one of those swift, hazy periods, Nick walked into his chambers, made a beeline for him and scooped him up into his embrace. Cai sighed in contentment as he snuggled against his spouse’s muscular chest.

  “Will you be able to jump the ship?” Nick’s voice was a study in clinical detachment, but Cai wasn’t fooled. He could sense the rage—directed at the pirates—and the worry and fear Nick felt for him.

  “I should be able to,” Cai assured him. “I propose, however, that the pirates be kept in separate locked rooms, in restraints and chemically sedated until we can turn them over to the proper authorities.”

  Nick nuzzled the base of his neck. It almost made him forget about the pain he was in. “I think that’s a good idea,” his captain said.

  Chapter Six

  The only way they’d get to Earth was if Cai jumped them there. And so, a day after the pirates had tried to take Laughing Owl a second time, Cai entered the Astrogation Chamber but not without a little trepidation. His knee had been shattered, and with it, some of his internal neurologics. It remained to be seen if Cai could still jump the ship in his damaged state. Otherwise, he would have to send a distress signal and wait for rescue. Complicating matters was the fact that he still had the pirate ship in tow and would have to take the other ship with him when he jumped.

  With a bellyful of raw Synde pushing his mind out of the confines of his skull, Cai settled back in his couch and let himself merge into his ship-self. Once he had established himself and taken care of a few routine housekeeping matters, Cai turned his attention to the other ship. He closed the airlocks on both ships, detached the docking tube and caused it to retract. He signaled Lin, who moved the pirate ship into the agreed-upon position, forward of Cai’s engine spars. As Cai watched, a patch of the pirate hull ionized, emitting a strong positive charge to his sensors. Cai ionized a matching patch on his own hull but taking care to add electrons, so that his hull became negatively charged. At that point, the two Gators let nature take its course. The two sections of hull slapped together as if arc-welded.

  Cai felt Lin leave his Chamber. It was up to Cai now, and he brought up the jump protocol immediately. They were at the marker, the hardpoint for Sol system, and though they were traveling at a slower speed than was optimal, Cai was still able to fall into the number storm, arrive at a solution, twist the untwistable and drop into subspace. He felt a little sluggish, but he couldn’t determine if that was due to his injury, his piggybacking another ship or to the slow insertion speed. Cai gracefully slalomed down the slope, leaped lightly over the chasm yawning at his feet then slogged up the hill until he had a firm-enough grasp on the new system to re-twist the untwistable and pop out of subspace almost exactly where he’d aimed for, out beyond the orbit of Neptune, just inward of the Kuiper belt.

  Cai opened up his engines as he set his course, soaring above the plane of the ecliptic on a military trajectory with Earth as his end point. They’d be home in a day, even traveling at only point-two-five c. As agreed, the pirate ship remained mag-locked to him; it was easier and safer than other towing methods. Lin liked it because there was no way he could be boarded this way except by someone taking a spacewalk to get to him. Cai exited the Chamber once the course was set. He needed to eat and rest before commencing the deceleration and docking maneuvers that would end their journey.

  Nick was waiting for him, of course. The captain picked him up and carried him into the dining room. Cai didn’t object, his knee hurt like hell, and the less stress he put on it, the better. Besides, it made Nick happy to pamper him.

  The casserole was a bean and cheese dish that emitted a heavenly aroma that set Cai’s mouth watering. Fresh salad accompanied it, the vegetables bursting with flavor. This was so very unusual that Cai had to ask, “How did you get fresh produce?”

  “I planted a garden in one of the science pods,” Nick replied smugly. “It’s starting to produce, as you can see.”

  Cai had known, peripherally, that Nick had done so, he’d just never taken it seriously or looked into the matter. At the time, Cai had decided that if his captain wanted to play around with dirt, water and lighting in his off-duty hours, that was his business, and a far less annoying hobby than, say, trying to learn how to play the bagpipes. Now, he could only shake his head in bemusement. “Amazing.”

  Nick grinned proudly. “I’ve always had a green thumb. I just didn’t know if I’d be able to get anything to grow in space.”

  Cai wondered how much space would be required to give the entire crew a taste of fresh produce. Nick sensed the question and shook his head. “I don’t think there’s enough space for much more than a hobby garden, but I can expand to maybe twice the size I have now. I’ll look into it. I’ve heard there are techniques for small-space gardening that will maximize the usability of the space.”

  “That would be good. The formulators are monotonous, even if they’re nutritious. The crew complains.”

  “The crew always complains about something,” Nick pointed out.

  “But if we could manage better food, it would improve health as well as morale.” Cai twirled a fork. “I’d like to learn these small-garden techniques, too. I have some ideas of where we could grow more vegetables that wouldn’t interfere with the ship’s functioning.”

  Nick beamed. “I’d be delighted to teach you.”

  They discussed gardening for the rest of the meal. After a dessert of chocolate mousse, Nick made sure he was given pain meds before he carried Cai to bed. Nick lay down beside him and gently snuggled him. Cai felt warm, protected and happy. His knee didn’t hurt that badly, and Nick was there to chase away dreams of Dread and others using him, hurting him.

  Cai woke when the alarm he’d set went off; he yawned, stretched and grimaced as the pain hit. His knee throbbed sharp lances of pain up and down his leg, reminding him that it was injured. Cai quickly swallowed the pain pills, willing them to work faster. An eternity later, the pain subsided enough that he could stand, with help. Si-el was there, and he used the adjunct as a crutch as he made his way to the Chamber. It was time to decelerate. He down
ed the dose of Synde and entered the Chamber. Once more, he became Laughing Owl.

  Expertly, he spun the ship about using thruster jets. Now, with his rear facing his destination, he applied acceleration, which added the net effect of slowing his considerable velocity. He watched the indicators carefully as his velocity bled off. Everything was within norms, right down the center of the graph. He killed the acceleration a moment before reaching a full stop. Laughing Owl then spun around again. Cai checked his position. He was exactly where he was supposed to be, ten thousand kilometers from Space Corps Command and inbound at only five hundred kilometers per minute.

  A pair of tugs closed with him on an intercept course. Cai acknowledged their signals and permitted them to lock onto his bow. They brought him to a full stop a hundred kilometers out, standard station-keeping distance for his class of ship. One tug now turned into his station keeper, buoying him on a thin line. The other tug took the pirate ship, which Cai released after a moment’s conference with Lin. The tug towed the pirate into a similar station-keeping orbit as Cai was in and then released the pirate ship on a similar line. The buoys sent signal data to the station telling them which ships were where and making it easier for shuttles and drones to home in on the various ships they needed to service. All of this was routine.

  Cai then sent a message through the Guild channel. “This is Cai, Astrogator for Laughing Owl, requesting Guild medical assistance and a Guild collection team for a combative, rogue psion.”

  There was a moment’s silence then a voice replied, “Acknowledged. Assistance will be dispatched.”