Junkyard Dogs series Omnibus

by Phillip Nolte

  Carlisle couldn't see any reason to argue that particular point and was wondering just how to respond but Halabi continued without waiting for her to reply.

  "There is no need to lie, we have security video that shows you not only arriving here several weeks ago, but also shows you getting onboard a shuttle that took you over to the Istanbul. The Istanbul is known to be in the Federation's Scrapyard at the present time."

  Carlisle fell back on the cover story that the conspirators had all agreed upon beforehand, "We came here to get some medical supplies," she said, "our people at the Reclamation Center are isolated and many of our wounded are dying. Your two attacks have left us devastated. Our only goal now is survival."

  The interrogator looked at her for a long moment before speaking again. "That is certainly a good story but I don't think I believe it," responded the little man, "You appear to have many amazing skills, but lying is not one of them. I think you should know that I questioned one of your co-conspirators yesterday and, with the aid of some very effective drugs, he told me a most interesting story."

  Carlisle was beginning to get worried.

  Halabi continued, "I'll tell you what I think, I think you are part of an invasion force that has come here to take back control of the Santana Nexus and overthrow the Sheik of Barsoom!"

  Carlisle said nothing and hoped that her expression didn't give anything away. Maybe Halabi was only playing with her, the interrogator could learn everything she knew by simply administering the same drugs.

  Yet... for some reason he seemed to be hesitating. Why?

  Halabi stared directly at her face for a few seconds and then looked away, focusing on a spot on the wall somewhere above her right shoulder, his brow furrowed in thought. After that longish pause, he seemed to come to a decision. He directed his gaze back at Carlisle.

  "For years I have done nothing but seek to ascertain the truth. In that, I can say with confidence that I have done a commendable job but...finding out the truth does not automatically mean that Justice is served or that wrongs are righted. All too often the end result is just the opposite." He looked back at her, "Fear not, little one, I am not going to question you further. Perhaps if you had been captured even a week ago, I would have felt differently but this...this Glorious Revolution is spinning out of control."

  Carlisle remained silent, wondering what perverse angle the wily interrogator was trying to play.

  Halabi continued, "When the Sheik started this Revolution a year ago he had clear motives and a close-knit group of dedicated followers. That was then. As the movement has gained momentum it has been joined by more and more greedy opportunists and people whose only purpose in life is to oppress others. I greatly fear that at this point in time the bad people in this revolution far outnumber the good and if the Sheik is successful, many of these unscrupulous people will wind up in positions of authority. I cannot allow that to happen."

  "What are you going to do with me?" asked Carlisle.

  "You?" Halabi thought for a short moment and shook his head before continuing, "I do not think I can spare you, too many of the wrong people know about you."

  Just then there was a commotion in the corridor outside. Someone pounded on the door to the compartment.

  "But perhaps I can stop this misdirected revolution," said Halabi, almost under his breath as he got out of his chair. He went over to the door, unlocked it and immediately stepped out of the way.

  The door burst open and several guards swept into the room.

  From behind Carlisle came a female voice, dripping with sarcasm, "So, my little Sleeping Beauty, you have finally awakened."

  The speaker sounded strangely familiar but it took a moment for Carlisle to remember where she had heard that voice before it came to her; this was the woman who had attacked her inside the turret of the wrecked cruiser back at the Scrapyard.

  It was Fahada, the Sheik of Barsoom's female assassin!

  "Have you finished questioning her, Halabi," asked Fahada.

  "I have, Fahada,"

  "What did you find out?"

  "Very little that we didn't know before," Halabi lied, fluently, "As our sources report, the Federation forces are nearly defeated and are becoming desperate. She was part of a small force that came here to steal some medical and military supplies. I was...about to send her back to her cell. She knows nothing of importance."

  Carlisle was speechless and sincerely hoped that her shock didn't show. It appeared as though this man, the Sheik's right hand, greatly feared by the populace of the Nexus Station, really wasn't going to give away the plan to retake the Nexus Station!

  Though it was a great relief to Carlisle to know that the master plan could go forward, her own personal future was very much a different matter.

  It soon became apparent that Fahada had ideas of her own for the prisoner.

  "Good, then you won't mind if I take her," said Fahada.

  Halabi could do nothing to interfere.

  "As you wish, Sayyeda," he replied with a short bow.

  "Very good," was the sinister reply. Fahada came around in front of Carlisle and looked her full in the face. "So you are Ensign Doctor Tamara Carlisle, Commander Kresge's pet Spacer killer."

  "I'm not the killer," replied Carlisle, "That would be you."

  The response was met with laughter, though there was little mirth in it.

  "Oh, yes, little Spacer, I am indeed a killer."

  "Then why am I still alive?"

  "I have a very special plan for you, little pet Spacer killer, I plan to kill you in a very public place, for the entertainment of the Sheik of Barsoom and his men. You have been a particularly sharp thorn in our side and we have decided to make an example of you."

  "What do you mean? What're you going to do to me?"

  "You and I will fight to the death in the weightless arena. Your death, I mean. Prepare yourself, little pet Spacer, we are heading for the arena in a few minutes. Guards? Prepare her and bring her to the arena. The game is about to begin! Getting rid of this one will be a particular pleasure!"

  The glare that Carlisle gave her would have melted steel.

  Two men, under the eyes of two additional guards who kept her covered with pulse pistols, roughly untied Carlisle from the chair in the interrogation room and subjected her to a lengthy sojourn that had them take an elevator inwards to the spindle. From the spindle elevator they took her down a curved corridor a short distance to a prep room. Here Carlisle was instructed to put on a skintight competition suit. To protect her modesty they allowed her to change clothing behind a flimsy screen.

  As she came out from behind the screen, she looked around the area they had brought her to and saw her gear, including the clothes she had just removed and her wrist computer, piled carelessly up on a table in the corner. She took as much time as she dared with her preparations but she knew she could only stall for so long. Their patience exhausted, the Sheik's guards retied her wrists and escorted her out of the compartment.

  Chapter 55.

  Military spaceship docking area near the Santana Nexus Station, onboard MIS Nasr, January 13, 2599.

  After all of the infiltrators that Nasr had been carrying had been transferred to the station, Captain Bishara and his men continued to play the role of a ship on a mission to take supplies and repair parts back to the damaged ships of his squadron. The destroyer's next task was to get back to the hyperlink zone and join up with the combined forces from the Scrapyard in an all-out attack on the Hercules. While the Captain and crew were waiting as patiently as they could for the proper timing, they actually did load up food and medical supplies. Finally, with the time for the rendezvous approaching, the Nasr microjumped towards the Whitney transfer zone. The ship phased out of the transfer a scant thirty minutes from the zone and the Sheik's mighty Jasmine cruiser.

  ***

  Santana Nexus System, Whitney hyperlink zone, January 13, 2599.

  With the Nasr still some twenty minutes from the ren
dezvous, an awkward looking ship accompanied by a freighter came through the Santana system's Whitney Hyperlink point. The acting Captain of the Hercules immediately challenged them.

  "Unknown ships identify yourselves or be fired upon."

  "This is Ni-Trans freighter City of Darwin with a load of food and other supplies for the Nexus station, came the response to the challenge. My companion is the Patagonian freighter Foul Beastie. She's got repair parts on board for some ships that are stuck out in the Oneida System. We are to meet up with the Meridian ship Nasr."

  "Foul Beastie?"

  "That is correct. You can see how she got her name."

  "She is rather unpretty," came the response. "Hold steady while we check your registrations."

  There was an interval of several minutes while the Hercules checked on the two new ships.

  "We have you, City of Darwin but we can find nothing on any Patagonian ship called 'Foul Beastie.'"

  "That's no surprise. She probably hasn't been registered yet. The Patagonians slapped her together from several worn out ships that were abandoned in their system. She seems to work okay but have you ever seen an uglier ship?"

  "I must admit that I have not but that is not important. Both of you will submit to boarding and inspection before you can be cleared to go in the Nexus Station."

  "We will cooperate in any way that we need to," came the reply, "We're just here to do business."

  The two ships remained in place while a contingent from the Hercules made preparations to inspect them.

  Meanwhile, the Nasr was now a scant ten minutes away.

  ***

  Santana Nexus Station, somewhere in the tenth ring hub, January 13, 2599.

  Carlisle was shoved roughly up against the wall of the corridor, face first. She recognized where she was, the door in front of her was one of the entrances to the weightless gymnastics arena. One of her captors kept his pulse pistol trained on her while the other undid the bindings that held her wrists together before backing away from her, finally leaving her with her hands free. They had removed her bindings only long enough for her to change into the sleek competition body suit before retying her wrists. Outside of that five-minute interval, her wrists had been bound since she had been rendered unconscious. She couldn't be certain but it had to have been at least a couple of hours.

  Carlisle massaged her wrists and forearms in an attempt to get some feeling back. The guard who had removed her bindings tied a short tether around her waist before opening the door and roughly shoving Carlisle through the opening and out into the arena before closing and securing the hatch behind her. She used the short tether to pull herself back to the now closed door.

  This was the same arena that Carlisle had performed some practice routines and helped a couple of younger girls with some basic gymnastics moves during her previous visit to the Nexus station, an event that now seemed a lifetime ago. A hatch on the other side of the nearly cubical arena opened up. Through the opening and into the arena came another...contestant?

  It was Fahada! Carlisle felt her heart rate speed up.

  ***

  Santana Nexus Station, somewhere on the tenth ring, January 13, 2599.

  The Sheik of Barsoom was meeting with delegates from all over the Quadrant. The conference was taking place within one of the large meeting theatres that had been used by the Federation Navy on the first level of the tenth ring. The Captain of the Hercules was in the middle of making an unexpected and rather poorly received plea that he was better suited to the leadership of the Revolution than the Sheik of Barsoom.

  "I am from one of the leading families on Jasmine. We can trace a direct line back to Emperor Haji himself! It is I who should be leading this revolution!"

  He sat down as a chorus of murmurs went through the rather large audience.

  The Sheik got up out of his chair and drew himself to his full height. His large presence and his full beard and shoulder-length hair made him a most imposing figure. In addition to his impressive physical appearance he had other significant command attributes. Perhaps it was due to a lifetime of being deferred to by others but the old man simply had an aura of authority about him.

  "I believe that we can settle this matter once and for all." The room became silent. "I hear the arguments of my distinguished rival and am forced to agree that he makes a few salient points. Whoever we place on the throne of Jasmine and the new Islamic monarchy must have the proper family history. While I am impressed by my rival's pedigree, I am afraid that there is indeed someone whose family connections are much closer to the old emperor than his are."

  He paused for effect.

  "Gentlemen, I feel the time has come for me to make an announcement."

  The room was totally silent as the Sheik's audience waited expectantly for his revelation.

  "I have been keeping this secret for a good many years but now but with our Revolution off to a glorious start, the time has come for me to reveal myself."

  He paused again.

  "You all know me as the Sheik of Barsoom but I think the time is right for you all to know me by my true name. I am Prince Merrikh of Jasmine, only son of the holy emperor Hadj and true heir to his throne!"

  The silence in the room was broken with a storm of noise. Snippets of incredulous conversation filled the camber.

  "Prince Merrikh, surely he was killed in the War...."

  "How can this be..."

  "Yes, I can see it now, there is a resemblance..."

  "Gentlemen please!" shouted Barsoom.

  The mutterings subsided and the Sheik/Prince continued, "I escaped the final battle of the Succession War on a damaged ship that left the system just before the last stages of that battle were fought. I have been living as the Sheik of Barsoom for all of the years between then and now. Only now do I feel that it is the proper time to reveal myself."

  There was a heated discussion that Prince allowed to go on for a good ten minutes as various members of the audience asked questions and got answers. Finally the Prince ended the discussion.

  "We can continue this later, right now my top operative has arranged an entertainment for us. Please, everyone have a seat."

  Everyone sat down and the room became quiet again. On the front wall of the theatre, a curtain drew back, revealing a large tri-D viewing screen. An image appeared on the screen. The audience recognized a weightless gymnastics arena.

  "Many of you know my top operative, Fahada. Today, in honor of my ascendency, we have arranged an execution."

  The camera view changed to Fahada's opponent, a small woman in a silvery, skin tight competition outfit. The women looked fiercely into the camera. Her green eyes were remarkably intense and she sported a heathen-spawned Spacer clan tattoo on her left cheek.

  "This woman is guilty of a number of crimes against our Glorious Revolution and I have decreed that she must die for those crimes. My trusted operative Fahada has agreed to be her executioner but we also thought that a contest to show off Fahada's considerable abilities would provide an entertainment for all of you and set an example for all of those who would oppose us. Let the game begin!"

  Chapter 56.

  Santana Nexus Station, weightless gymnastics arena, January 13, 2599.

  Back in the weightless arena Carlisle heard a voice over the intercom.

  "Look behind you and you will find a weapon and two retractable tethers attached to the hatch door. Arm yourself and prepare to do battle!"

  Carlisle turned around and saw a small bag taped to the hatch door. Inside she found two standard retractable tethers and a knife. The tethers were of an older design and were a bit more massive than the ones she was used to but they would do. A quick inspection of the knife revealed that it was a dull practice weapon, the sort that was used to train for weightless combat. The knife had a thin loop of meta-kevlar cable attached to it through a hole in the end of the handle. The cable was used to hold the weapon loosely around the user's wrist and would keep the knife from floa
ting free if she should lose her grip on it. She slipped the loop over her right wrist and secured one of the cuffs of the two tethers to each of her wrists before removing the cord that had been tied around her waist.

  Crouching against the wall of the arena, next to the door she had been pushed through, she attempted to take stock of her condition. With her head still a little muzzy from the stun rod strike, she was about as unprepared as she could be for whatever was happening next. As she looked around the arena and turned to face her opponent she was struck by an overwhelming sense of déjà vu, immediately followed by a bolt of pure panic.

  This was the damned dream that had been haunting her!

  Only this time it was real! She was facing the Sheik of Barsoom's female killer in single combat!

  She could see that Fahada also was equipped with two tethers and...something else. Carlisle recognized the handle of a quantum knife! Rather than a practice blade, her opponent was armed with a real weapon! A very deadly one, in fact. So this was to be their "contest," a virtually unarmed victim against a trained killer who probably didn't even need the quantum knife. Carlisle shook her head.

  If anything, this was even worse than the dream!

  She fought the feeling down and steeled herself for the fight to come. Fahada had said that this was to be public contest. With almost everyone watching this "gladiator show" Carlisle had no choice, she would simply have to try and last as long as she could. If she could keep the Sheik and his forces distracted, her companions would have that much more time to follow through with their plans for liberating the Station without the enemy interfering.

  She double checked the cuffs of the tethers secured to each wrist. She had the practice knife, with the safety thong looped around her wrist, grasped in her right hand. She knew she was far from ready to go into combat but also knew she had little choice. The few preparations she could make to do so were inadequate but they would have to suffice.