The Red Sphinx used the protocols it had been given by Khan’s security officers, approached to within thirty thousand miles of his ship, and opened fire. Khan’s ship was reduced to rubble in seconds.
Cole, who had spent four days training his new crew members (and dumping three of them who simply would not or could not follow orders onto an oxygen world), transmitted his message of amnesty to the Red Sphinx and had Val broadcast it to the eight remaining ships. Two tried to flee and the Teddy R shot them down, as it had threatened to do. Two more chose to fight, and the Red Sphinx and the Teddy R each accounted for one. The other four agreed to Cole’s terms. He had each captain transferred to the Teddy R, where he explained what was expected (or, more accurately, demanded) of each, and then returned them to their ships.
Two days later Cole and his six ships docked at Singapore Station, where he hunted up the Platinum Duke, ready for bigger and more lucrative assignments.
“Remarkable!” commented the Platinum Duke. “Just remarkable! In truth, you should be paying the Apollo Cartel, not charging them. You went out a ship, and you came back a fleet!”
“Yeah,” said Cole, somewhat less impressed. “Three hundred million more ships, and we can meet the Republic on even terms.”
16
“You know,” said Sharon as the waiter brought her a sizzling steak from the mutated cattle of Borimor III, “I could get into owning a casino.”
“It’s more trouble than it looks like from here,” answered the Platinum Duke, sitting at his table with Cole, Sharon, David Copperfield, and Perez. “There are approximately seven hundred men and aliens in the building right this minute, and I guarantee that at least two hundred of them are trying to cheat the house.”
“It’s only fair,” commented Perez. “The house has a ten percent edge.”
“My dear man, the house has overhead,” explained the Duke. “The players don’t.”
“I don’t care about gambling,” said Sharon. “All I know is the house has one hell of a chef.”
“He doesn’t belong to the house,” said the Duke. “He’s mine. And he only cooks for my friends.”
“I didn’t know I was your friend,” said Sharon.
“You’re sitting at my table. It would be rude to eat while you sat and watched.” The Duke looked around. “Where is the remarkable Valkyrie? I have a couple of players who have been beating the house far too often this week. I’d like her to check them out.”
“She’s running our ships through their training exercises,” said Cole. “Except for the Teddy R, which is restocking at one of the cargo docks right now. Also, we put out the word that we’re looking for medics, and Sharon will check out the credentials of the four who showed up. Only two are human; I hope to hell one of them passes muster.” He paused. “When the ship’s ready to go in another day or two, Four Eyes will take over the training and Val can grab some shore leave while Perez here takes over the Red Sphinx for a while.”
“That was your ship?” the Duke asked Perez.
“Yes.”
“Don’t you resent her commandeering it?”
“Fortunes of war,” answered Perez. “I didn’t have much choice in the matter—and Captain Cole has promised to find me a ship of my own.” He turned to Cole. “Although I understand that with Val on her own ship there’s an opening for a Third Officer aboard the Theodore Roosevelt.”
“You’ll be more use to us running your own ship,” answered Cole.
“Let me guess,” said the Duke. “You used to be in the Navy.”
“A long time ago,” said Perez.
“What happened?”
“I got out of the Navy.”
“What a shame,” said the Duke. “I was hoping that you were going to vilify Susan Garcia, and then you and I would split a bottle of my finest Cygnian cognac.”
“Are you talking about Fleet Admiral Garcia?” asked Perez.
The Duke nodded. “Of course, I knew her when she was just a minor tyrant. I believe Mr. Cole has met her on a number of occasions as well.”
“A few,” said Cole.
“And?”
“I can’t say we hit it off,” replied Cole, “but she gave me some medals.”
“‘Some’ medals,” said the Platinum Duke in amused tones. “She gave you the Medal of Courage on three different occasions.”
“Begrudgingly.”
“Of course,” said the Duke. “You made the Navy look bad.”
“I served that Navy all of my adult life,” said Cole. “I won’t say anything against it.”
“I will,” offered Sharon. “They were more concerned with not looking incompetent than with winning the goddamned war. That’s why they court-martialed him.”
“And this surprised you?” asked the Duke with a smile.
“He saved five million Men,” continued Sharon bitterly, “and got thrown in the brig for it. The captain he deposed, the one who was about to kill our own citizens, is still an active officer in the Navy.”
“Why do you think I left the Republic?” said the Duke with a smile.
“One word from Susan Garcia and we could be back fighting the real enemy,” continued Sharon.
“Poor deluded child,” said the Duke. “The Republic is the real enemy. Hell, the Teroni Federation has never done me any harm; I can’t say the same for the Republic.”
“Neither can I, come to think of it,” put in Perez.
“Complaining isn’t going to help,” said Cole. “The Republic’s got a war to fight. They can’t waste their time worrying about us. We’re never going back, so you might as well change the subject.”
There was a momentary silence, which was broken by David Copperfield.
“That steak smells exquisite,” he commented.
“Would you like one?” asked the Duke.
“Alas, I am on a diet,” said Copperfield.
“Can’t metabolize it, eh?”
“I have never denied my limitations,” said Copperfield with all the dignity he could muster, “but it is extremely ungracious of you to refer to them.”
“If you can’t eat it, you can’t eat it,” said the Duke. “It’s no big deal. Just tell me what you’d like and I’ll have my chef prepare it.”
“I’d like a steak,” said Copperfield unhappily. “I will settle for an Alphard brandy.”
“I could have sworn I saw you eating a steak aboard the Teddy R,” remarked Sharon.
“Soya products, made to look like a steak,” said Cole.
“You knew all along?” said Copperfield, surprised.
“It’s my job to know everything about my crew.”
“But I’m not your crew,” replied Copperfield. “I’m your old school chum and your business manager.”
“You’re all of that,” agreed Cole. “But when you’re on my ship, you’re also my crew.”
“All right,” said Copperfield. “I can accept that.”
“I can’t tell you how relieved I am.”
“Now, now, Steerforth,” said Copperfield. “Sarcasm is unbecoming in a well-bred Englishman.”
“The mind boggles with replies,” said Cole. “In the interest of peace, I’ll keep them all to myself.”
Suddenly Cole’s communicator came to life.
“He’s gone again, sir,” said Idena Mueller, who was sitting at the bridge’s computer console.
“Four Eyes?”
“Yes, sir.”
“To the Molarian whorehouse?”
“I believe so, sir.”
“Well, what the hell,” said Cole, “it could be years before he finds another receptive Molarian. Let’s cut him a little slack.”
“But he’s in charge of red shift, and it starts in another forty minutes.”
“He’ll be back in time,” said Cole.
“What if he’s not?”
“I’ve known him for twenty years, Lieutenant,” said Cole. “He’ll be back.”
He broke the communication.
> “Your Molarian contingent is making me rich,” remarked the Platinum Duke.
“They’ve got nothing else to spend it on,” said Cole. “You own the whorehouse, I presume?”
“Not exactly,” replied the Duke. “I told you: I run Singapore Station. In practical terms, it means I get a little percentage of almost every business in lieu of rent.”
Suddenly David Copperfield stood up. “If you will excuse me, I believe I see an old friend across the room. I really must go over and say hello to him.”
“He owes you that much?” asked Cole with a smile.
“I do not recall the immortal Charles endowing you with a sense of humor,” replied David with dignity. “Therefore, I will assume that remark is not funny, but merely in poor taste.” He bowed to Sharon, and then began walking through the Men and aliens that were crowded around the gaming tables.
“What’s with him?” asked Perez. “He’s an alien, he dresses like a Victorian dandy from three thousand years ago, he thinks he’s a Dickens character and that you’re another . . .”
“He was the biggest fence on the Inner Frontier,” explained Cole. “He fell in love with the works of Charles Dickens, to the point where he dresses like he does, calls himself David Copperfield, and was living in a Victorian mansion when I first met him. In fact, the easiest way to gain entrance to his house was to introduce myself as Steerforth, David Copperfield’s friend at school. He risked his life and his business to help us. He kept his life, but he lost the business.”
“His collection takes up three cabins aboard the ship,” added Sharon.
“Collection?” asked Perez.
“Of Dickens books,” she said. “Thousands of editions and translations.”
“Interesting character,” said Perez. “I think I’m going to like working for you guys. I heard of Val when she was calling herself the Queen of Sheba. She was one hell of a pirate. How did you ever convince her to join you?”
“A confluence of circumstances,” replied Cole. “I’m sure she’ll tell you all about it, putting a properly heroic spin on the events.”
“Right,” added Sharon. “It wouldn’t do for people to know that the Hammerhead Shark stole her ship while she was sleeping off a drunk. We helped her get it back.”
“Then why—?”
“It was disabled in the process,” said Cole.
“So was the Shark,” added Sharon.
David Copperfield made his way back to the table and seated himself.
“That was a short visit,” commented Cole.
“But, I hope, a fruitful one,” said Copperfield.
“Let me guess: he has a leatherbound copy of Bleak House for sale.”
“Don’t be facetious, Steerforth,” said Copperfield. “Besides, if he did, do you think I’d have returned here without it?” He paused. “What do you know of New Calcutta?”
“Never heard of it,” said Cole.
“I have,” put in Perez. “About four hundred light-years from here, in the direction of the Core.”
“The very place,” said Copperfield. “Oxygen world, ninety-seven percent Standard gravity.”
“Okay, it’s an oxygen world toward the Core,” said Cole. “So what?”
“Bear with me, my dear Steerforth,” said Copperfield. “After all, did the sainted Charles ever reveal the entire plot on page one?”
“The sainted Charles was getting paid by the word,” said Cole. “You’re not. Now, what about New Calcutta?”
“There is a dealer in merchandise of questionable ownership . . .”
“A fence.”
“A fence,” agreed Copperfield. “I knew him in my former life.”
“Your former life?” interrupted Perez, frowning.
“He means, when he was a fence himself,” said Sharon.
“Precisely,” said Copperfield. “Anyway, New Calcutta is ruled by Thuggees . . .”
“Hold it right there,” said Cole. “There hasn’t been a Thuggee in close to three millennia. I don’t mind you being David Copperfield if it makes you happy, but don’t go inventing whole planets from Kipling.”
“Oh, it exists all right,” Copperfield assured him. “So do the Thuggees. They’re not humans, of course, and they do not practice the obscene secret rituals of the original Thuggees, at least so far as I know. They are an alien race, once known as the Drinn, who took the name of Thuggee when they found out what New Calcutta was named for. They found that calling themselves Thuggees brought them instant respect from Men.”
“Let me guess,” said Cole. “Your friend the fence is languishing in the Black Hole.”
“I have no idea what color hole it is, but the poor man has done something to offend the Thuggees and they have incarcerated him. He would surely trade his kingdom for a horse, and failing that would doubtless pay half his kingdom to be rescued.” He learned forward. “Steerforth, he’s worth almost twenty million credits!”
“Hold on a minute, David,” said Cole. “We may have six ships instead of one, but we’re not strong enough to take on a whole planet.”
“I’m not suggesting that you attack it,” said Copperfield. “If you go in with guns blazing, either the Thuggees will kill you or you’ll inadvertently kill Quinta.”
“That’s the fence?”
“Yes.”
“All right,” said Cole. “Have you ever been to New Calcutta?”
“A few times,” answered Copperfield. “A very pleasant world, except for the climate and the dust and the insects and the diseases and the Thuggees.”
“I’m sure it’s a fair-sized planet, and we’ll be looking for one particular jail cell,” said Cole. “If we decide to undertake this job, we’re going to need a guide. Do you think you can lead us to where they’re keeping him?”
“I’m afraid not,” said Copperfield.
“I thought you said you’ve been there.”
“I have.”
“Well, then?” demanded Cole.
“The last time I was there I had to leave in rather a hurry,” said Copperfield uncomfortably. “They’ve actually had the audacity to put a price on my head.”
“I’ve been there,” said the Platinum Duke. “I won’t go back again, but I can supply you with a map of the place, including their major city, which is where they’ll likely be keeping him.”
“I assume you’re not offering this out of the goodness of your heart,” said Cole.
“One-sixth,” said the Duke.
“That seems a lot for just for a map.”
“Okay,” said the Duke. “Find it without a map, and good luck to you.”
“One-sixth,” said Cole, reaching out and shaking the Duke’s metal hand.
“You’re really going to pay it?” asked Sharon, surprised.
“There are two million Thuggees on the planet,” replied Cole. “Without some notion of where they’re holding Quinta, what do you think the odds are of breaking him out? Besides,” he added, “the Duke’s cut is coming out of the half we leave to Quinta, not our half.”
“Bravo!” said Copperfield. “You’re thinking more like a mercenary each day!”
“David,” said Cole, “go tell your friend that if we agree to do it, it’s going to cost the fence five-sixths of whatever he’s got.”
“It’s not up to him,” answered Copperfield. “He just told me, friend to friend, that Quinta has been incarcerated. He’s not Quinta’s agent. It’s up to Quinta, and considering the alternative, I’m sure he would agree now.”
“Even if he disagrees after we break him out,” predicted Sharon dryly.
“All right,” said Cole. “We’ll put Christine, Briggs, and Domak to work finding out what they can about the planet and the Thuggees, and then make a decision.
“You’ll go,” said Copperfield.
“What makes you think so?”
“I can tell by the look on your face. You’re thinking of all that money.”
“No, my old school chum,” said Cole. �
��I am thinking of all those empty Thuggee ships.”
17
Since rescuing Quinta was clearly going to be a covert operation requiring a landing party rather than massive firepower from space, Cole decided to take just the Teddy R to Calcutta, and leave the five new ships at Singapore Station to have their weaponry and defensive capabilities upgraded. He transferred Val and Bull Pampas temporarily to the Teddy R, and left Perez in charge of the other ships with instructions to take them out and test their new capabilities when the re-outfitting was accomplished. Then the Teddy R set off for Calcutta.
The planet was a real piece of work. The humanoid natives had allowed Men to colonize it just long enough to learn their language, learn how to read their books and computers, and learn how to use their weapons. Then they slaughtered the entire colony.
That had been four hundred years ago. Somewhere along the way they decided they could frighten Man off and stop them from recolo nizing by calling the world Calcutta and themselves Thuggees, though no one knew quite what they had against Men. As it turned out, whatever it was, it extended to Canphorites, Setts, Domarians, Lodinites, and half a dozen other races, all of whom were promptly set upon and slaughtered when they landed.
The Thuggees had no dreams of conquest in terms of their solar system or the galaxy at large, but there were five continents on Calcutta, and the government of each was constantly at war with the other four. It was then that they decided that trading with beings whose weaponry had improved over the past four centuries might help them conquer their enemies, and so each country allowed one or two traders—or, in the case of David Copperfield’s friend, fences who temporarily functioned as traders—to land long enough to deliver newer and deadlier weapons. The planet didn’t have much of value to outsiders, but it was home to a type of mollusk that produced a geometrically perfect sixteen-sided pearl-like growth that was much sought after by the jewelers of the Republic and the Inner Frontier.
“And that’s it, sir,” said Briggs as he concluded his brief history of Calcutta. “Since they’ve been closed to trade and immigration for more than four hundred years, we know almost nothing about how their society has evolved, or even about the current political situation, other than that there are five large nations, they don’t like each other very much, and they like intruders even less.” He paused. “We don’t even know if they speak or understand Terran.”
Starship: Mercenary (Starship, Book 3) Page 11
