Gometz's eye made a movement to the left. Panglor glanced and saw a man in the corner raising a weapon. "Freeze, I said!" he screamed and triggered the laser and swung it in a fast arc. A thread of light swept across half the room. The man in the corner howled in pain and fell backward, dropping his gun. Panglor swung the other way, cutting empty air. All of Garikoff's men were on the floor. Panglor lowered his sights and swept again, but with the beam cut off. The smell of burnt flesh touched his nostrils.
The first man was not the only one moaning in pain. The laser had slashed Garikoff and Gometz both. Two men on the right were crouched on the floor, staring in fear. Panglor squinted at them and at Garikoff, who was pushing himself up from the floor, clutching his abdomen. "Balef!" he said hoarsely, his voice filled as much with surprise as with pain. "You'll wish—"
Panglor snarled and fired again. Garikoff's left hand had closed over a small, squarish object that had fallen to the floor. Garikoff grimaced, squeezing, as Panglor's needle of fire seared across his hand. Garikoff barked and dropped it. Panglor swept the beam three times across his chest and then cut his fire. "Bastard!" he hissed. Garikoff fell back to the floor, gasping. Panglor carefully covered the room with the stilled laser. From behind him, Alo darted into the room and disarmed the Garikoff men, tossing their weapons to the door.
A bell was clanging inside Panglor's head, filling him with pain—and then horror. "LePiep!" he cried. Tiki swept to his side, holding the ou-ralot close. She was rigid in Tiki's arms, eyes hard and glazed, radiating wave after wave of pain. "Peep!" Panglor whispered, touching her with his fingertips. She could not respond; she could only radiate pain. "Alo!"
His cry was unnecessary. Alo was already at the room's com-console, shouting to someone that an emergency poisoning case was on its way to the med section. She whirled and caught Tiki's arm. "I'll take her; I can run; I know the way!" she said in a single breath and reached for LePiep.
"Lead," hissed Tiki, keeping LePiep in his arms. "I can follow faster than you know!"
"GO!" Panglor screamed.
Alo's gaze flashed from Tiki to Panglor. Then she sprinted out the door and down the corridor. Tiki followed with LePiep, moving like a frightened breath of wind.
Panglor stared after them helplessly, his heart pounding. He whirled to keep his prisoners covered, and it was all he could do to keep from lashing them over and over again with laser fire. Gathering up the hand weapons, he jerked on the power line to disconnect his laser, crossed the room to the com-console, and called the Waystation Authority. Then, trembling with emotion, he waited.
Chapter 15
By the time guards arrived, Panglor was nearly incoherent with rage and fear. No matter how fast Alo and Tiki had gotten to the meds, there was very little chance of saving LePiep's life. He was no expert, but he knew that cymid was a deadly killer. Garikoff and Gometz were both unconscious on the floor now; Panglor had blasted them both with a nervie when Garikoff tried to rise again. Panglor wished that the bastards were still conscious, so that he could blast them again. But it wouldn't save LePiep or bring her back.
One of the two uninjured men, he realized, was Grakoff, partner to Garikoff. He was a pathetic-looking man, fat and frightened.
Panglor turned over his weapons but it took frustrating minutes to explain to the guards why they should arrest everyone here and let him run to the medical section.
The med-section was buzzing when he burst in with two guards dashing after him. "Where is she?" he cried. A medical worker, startled, pointed to the veterinary area. Panglor charged into the next room. Finally he spied Alo and Tiki clustered around a screen with several medical and veterinary people.
Also saw him coming and urgently waved him over. Heart ready to burst, he looked to see what they were watching. It was a video image of a surgeon working on LePiep's small, still form. "She's going to be all right!" Alo cried softly, seizing his arm and squeezing him until her nails dug into his flesh.
"How do you know?" he hissed weakly. If she was still in surgery . . .
"It never went off, Pangly! The capsule never got triggered!" Alo was shaking him.
"But you saw her! She was—"
"She was reacting to us, and—when you burned those guys, those bastards—she felt it, she couldn't help reacting to their pain!" Alo shook him harder. "Pangly, she was never poisoned!"
Relief washed through him like a flood of tears. He struggled to keep from going to pieces. "You mean . . . what are they doing in there, then?"
They both looked back at the screen, where the surgeon was finishing. "Taking the capsule out. They really did put one in there, they meant to do it. Either you shot him before he hit the trigger or your jamming gadget worked. I don't know which, and who cares?" Alo was crying now, still clenching his arm.
"I'll be damned," whispered Panglor. He looked at Tiki, who was swaying drunkenly from side to side in pleasure. "I'll be damned."
* * *
The days that followed were a bewildering blur. LePiep was released from surgery in good health, and with a cheery sendoff from the veterinary staff. The inquest board began an immediate inquiry into Panglor's involvement with Grakoff-Garikoff, and the alleged criminal activities of that company and its officers. Not all of the story, as it turned out, was a surprise to the Waystation Authority.
The Garikoff ship which had fired on The Fighting Cur during its insertion run with Deerfield had been captured by the Traffic Patrol. The pilot of that ship had been willing to talk, and had actually told some of the story before dying suddenly and mysteriously while in confinement. Garikoff, it seemed, was in the process of establishing a territory for his business in the D3 system; and while he had penetrated the government computer-bureaucracy to an alarming degree, he was also more closely watched than he probably had realized.
As to Panglor's role, the panel rendered no immediate judgment, saying that their present interest was in learning the facts, and only after the entire inquiry was concluded would they return to the issue of possible criminal charges.
Eventually the inquiry was put back on its original track, and attention shifted from Panglor to the zone of discontinuity and to Tiki. Panglor and Alo answered questions until they were weary, but Tiki showed no signs of tiring. By this time, evidence supporting Panglor's account of events had been provided by Jeebering and several of the Deerfield crew and by the Deerfield's instrument recorders. Once the majority of the scientists had conquered their initial skepticism, they began to grow excited. Suddenly there was talk of an expedition, of a return to the D1 system by a science-equipped ship and crew.
The inquest sessions blurred altogether. At some point, Tiki was invited to become the Kili ambassador to humanity, with D3 as the initial contact and trade point representing human peoples. Tiki responded with enthusiasm and delight—until asked for help in locating the Kili people. At this he crossed his eyes and stiffened. Finally Panglor nudged him, and he blinked. "Of these things I know nothing," he said mournfully. "Really, I am only a poor Kili, considered—" and he consulted his translator for the first time in days "—blellicka . . . by my fellows." He stared solemnly at the ceiling. "How else may I help you?"
Undersecretary Barthollo appealed to Panglor for help. Panglor sat mute, realizing suddenly that the panelists did not yet understand that Tiki was considered . . . not sane . . . by his own people. Alo came to Tiki's rescue, however. "He's not a space pilot," she explained. "He doesn't know the answer to your question." The undersecretary looked at her with skepticism, but at least for the moment, dropped the question.
Eventually they were given a day off, though they were still confined to their quarters (under improved security). Panglor could hardly rest, though, wondering as he did what the judgment of the inquiry board and the Authority would be. LePiep groomed her wings and purred soothingly, reflecting only a hint of his worry; she was pleased to be safe again, not having to face the likes of Garikoff. Tiki talked about his preliminary diplomatic exc
hanges, and how he had given the board still more details on the shipwrecks of Dementia. "Humans are vain about their brand names, even in their shipping companies," he reported. "That upset them. But most of them, you know, thought their missing ships were done in by ships of different brand names. Surprised to learn differently."
Jeebering stopped by for a visit, the first time they had seen him in days. He looked tired, but good color had returned to his face, and his eyes were clear. He wore a clean, smartly tailored uniform. "How are you, Jeeb?" Panglor asked, glad to see him.
"Okay," Jeebering said, accepting a mug of hot moke from Alo. "Wasn't what I came to talk about, though."
"How are your men?" Alo asked.
Jeebering blew across the top of his mug and sighed. "The psychs and meds have their hands full with some of them," he admitted. "But some of them are coming around." His eyes flickered. Panglor felt a sour taste in his mouth and wondered what to say. Nothing, maybe.
"Hope they'll be okay," Alo said quietly.
"Yup," said Jeebering. Suddenly he smiled. "Hey, that wasn't what I came to talk about, either. I've heard some rumors—nothing official, but my sources are pretty reliable—that you're going to get some good news."
"Oh?" Panglor raised his eyebrows.
"They were quite pleased by your testimony against Garikoff," Jeebering said. "They think they've got a good case against them, and perhaps they can nab those two from—what was it, Barracu?—while they're at it. Garikoff will be indicted as soon as he recovers. I don't think they'll press charges against you, though—either Vikken or the Authority."
Panglor's head was light and his stomach tense all at the same time. Jeebering added, "They'll probably go after that useless pig Grakoff, too, though he was basically just a stooge."
Panglor's mouth opened, then closed. He recalled his capture back on Veti IV. "You know," he said, "I never understood those two. Garikoff told me that Grakoff was his brother, but not exactly — or something like that. I wondered what the hell that was supposed to mean."
Jeebering chuckled and shook his head. "I'm surprised you never heard about them while you were spacing for the lines. They're pretty notorious. Grakoff is Garikoff's younger clone brother. I don't know how much is rumor and how much truth, but they say that when Garikoff's biological mother became sterile—not a bad thing, considering her son—she had an illegal clone made of her young son, Lousa. It was a typical backroom lab job, and they botched it—the clone came out not-quite-right. Garikoff hates him, has nothing but contempt for him. But there was a time when Garikoff was broke and hurting, and Grakoff had money to put up, and so they formed the Grakoff-Garikoff Shipping Line."
Alo wrinkled her forehead. "So why don't they have the same name?"
Jeebering sighed. "Grakoff suffered early mental and speech deficiencies. Or anyhow, the story goes that when he was young, he couldn't pronounce his name right—it came out as Grakoff instead of Garikoff—and he just kept his own version. Who knows? It probably became a symbol of some imagined autonomy from his domineering brother." Jeebering toyed with his mug. "Well, anyway—"
"Mmm," grunted Panglor.
"I just stopped by to tell you I think things are probably going to go your way. Those scientist guys are all hepped up about this zone of yours." Jeebering laughed. "I don't know why I think of it as being yours, but I do. Probably because you were right in your element there." He chuckled and glanced at Alo. "Anyhow, they didn't believe you at first, but all the ship's records were there. And they seemed to trust me because of my stripes or something, and I told them all about your crazy scheme of diving through that planet—"
"Not a planet," Panglor protested.
"Right. Whatever. I told them you did it and it worked, and all the records verify that. And you brought a real live Kili with you, and—to keep it short—they're pretty impressed by the implications there. First I thought they'd just be happy to know where all the ships were disappearing to, but no, they're blathering now about theoretical possibilities, just like regular damn scientists. Talking about new theories of the nature of reality, blab, blab. Cripes. They're saying maybe some day we could fly through these things as a matter of routine, going from one zone to another the way Tiki talked about. Fly right through the zones into another reality, steering with mental images the way you did. Daydream-flying!" Jeebering shook his head. "Maybe in some other century. Anyway, I told them you were the ones they should be talking to, not me. We were just bystanders." He fell silent and drank his moke.
Panglor was touched more deeply than he would have believed. "Jeeb," he said, embarrassed. "That was nice of you." When the hell had anyone ever given him credit for doing something useful, for being capable where others weren't? He scarcely knew how to reply to the compliment.
"Hah?" Jeebering said. "Ah, hell no. I just told them the facts." He set down his mug. "Got to go. So long."
After Jeebering had gone, Panglor sat in silence, gazing at Alo. He couldn't think of a thing to say.
In the morning, Jeebering's rumors were confirmed officially, when the inquest panel delivered their preliminary summation. In view of the extraordinary information brought back, and the courageous actions taken to bring Deerfield safely home, and in consideration of the testimony rendered against Grakoff-Garikoff, no charges were being considered against Panglor for the sabotaging of Deerfield's insertion. Or, for that matter, for the breach of security and the assault against Garikoff and his men. Panglor stared at the panel, unable to voice his relief.
Then a man named Elbright, who seemed to be chief of the scientific phase of the inquest, took the floor. "Now that that's out of the way," Elbright said, "we have an offer to make—a request, really. Will you return with a scientific expedition to the D1 system? We're formulating plans to outfit a research ship to investigate, er, Dementia, and we want you two to come along as special consultants."
Alo stirred suspiciously. "Do you mean consultants or insurance?" she asked. "Or test animals?" Panglor shot her a cautioning look; she ignored him and eyed the scientist.
Elbright was startled, but he did not seem offended. "Maybe all of that," he admitted. "But we'll pay you consultants' salaries—twenty thousand a month—although the psychs will be wanting to observe you, as well. They'll be observing everyone, including themselves."
"I'm not so sure I want to rush right back there," Panglor said.
"I wouldn't call it rushing," Elbright said. "It will take time to prepare, and if we get appropriations for a ship carrying its own foreshortening-field generators—to be on the safe side for the return—it could take a year, anyway."
Panglor blinked and sat back.
The scientist added, "We'd like you to be available as consultants right away, though. Salaried, of course."
That impressed Panglor even more.
Later he discussed the matter with Alo. Tiki joined them and said that he had been asked to go along, too—if it would not interfere with his ambassadorial duties. The scientists wanted to return with him to his wrecked ship; they hoped to find and decipher, with his help, locational coordinates for the Kili worlds. "Will go if you go," said Tiki. "Flillik." He was dressed in a new robe with tassled trimmings, tailored to his specifications by his waystation hosts. Panglor chuckled. The Kili was taking his new job seriously, but not without flair.
"So, Alo, what you say?" Panglor asked. Alo was examining the door's opaque-field mechanism. Panglor didn't know why, because they were no longer being held under tight security. "We go back there," he said, "that's what drove the poor bastards from Deerfield crazy. Even Jeeb."
"Because they weren't crazy enough to begin with," Alo said, without turning.
"Belllri-brikk. True," said Tiki, blinking.
"So do you want to go back?"
"Sure," said Alo. "Why not?" She turned from the door and went to the mantel under the holo-screen, where LePiep lazed, chin hanging over the ledge. She rubbed the side of her finger against the ou-ralot's sno
ut. "You want to go?" she asked, looking back finally at Panglor.
"I guess so." He felt a strange pressure in his chest, like a balloon inflating. He wanted to go if she did, but otherwise not. "Sure. We could bring the good old Cur back."
"This is good, then," said Tiki. He rose, swaying. "I must go now and meet with the people I said I would meet."
"That's the life of an ambassador," Panglor said with a wave. Alo followed Tiki to the door and patted him as he left. Then she fussed with door for a moment and came back, grinning.
"It's settled, then," she said and sat in his lap, straddling and facing him.
"Right," he said, breathing faster. Alo was quite attractive at the moment; she wore a close-fitting, flared-cuff jumpsuit, open just an inch or two at the throat. Her hair brushed his face as she bent and kissed him. "Wait—" he mumbled, when their lips parted. "Those scientific joes are coming in a few minutes." He didn't want to get involved in something here he would hate interrupting.
"No, they're not," Alo said slyly. She kissed him again, for several long seconds this time, and pulled back to watch his expression. "I jimmied the door closed."
He gazed at her suspiciously. She nodded evilly.
"Hyoolp!" LePiep whistled.
About the Author
Jeffrey A. Carver was a Nebula Award finalist for his novel Eternity's End; he also authored Battlestar Galactica, a novelization of the critically acclaimed television miniseries. His novels combine thought-provoking characters with engaging storytelling and range from the adventures of the Star Rigger universe (Star Rigger's Way, Dragons in the Stars, and others) to the character-driven hard SF of The Chaos Chronicles. Sunborn, published in 2008, is the fourth novel in the Chaos series, which began with Neptune Crossing and continued with Strange Attractors and The Infinite Sea.
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