Beyond Those Distant Stars

by John B. Rosenman

  “Yes!” they all chanted.

  Pancho's face hardened and he studied Malek, whose face twitched guiltily. “Regent-Protector Malek,” he said in a glacial voice devoid of accent. “I would give my family jewels to have your own in my hands.”

  Stella smiled. “Pancho,” she said, “it's odd that you should say that.”

  * * * *

  Pierce Powers, efficient as ever, handled the mutual transfer of personnel through the Spaceranger's boarding tube as La Libertad hovered alongside. During the procedure, Peter kept his artillery trained on the cutter.

  When Pancho was escorted onto the Spaceranger's bridge, Stella saw he barely reached her chin. Pancho, though, grinned confidently and embraced her like an old lover.

  When he finally released her, she found they were on a first-name basis. “So, Stella, this All-Mother sounds like a real dog of a whore, yes?”

  “She sure is, Pancho,” she said, determined to appear confident.

  For Pancho, there were evidently a lot of dogs and a lot of whores, but at the moment it seemed like a fair description of her ultimate opponent.

  “You have a good plan to beat this bitch?”

  She nodded sagely. “It's a secret.”

  “Ah, excelente, muy bien!” Pancho stroked his mustache, his Spanish mysteriously back. “Stella, after this revolucion of yours, you have an important posicion for me in your administracion, si?”

  The question made her turn from the vid showing Pierce and others in the docking area and look at Pancho. “What?”

  “I was just asking if you have an important posicion for me in your new administracion.”

  “Oh ... of course.” Was that a lecherous wink the strange little man just gave her? If she ever got out of this, she'd have to ask him if he really thought he was the spiritual reincarnation of Pancho Villa.

  Pancho grinned. “So, what is my posicion, Stella?” Judging from the way he talked, Pancho felt that Malek's forces and the All-Mother had already been vanquished.

  “We'll think of something.” An idea struck her. “Perhaps you'd like to be the official Director of Police. You could chase down pirates in my uh, administracion. After all, who else is better qualified?”

  Pancho's eyes gleamed. “And my share, how you call it, my percentage of what I save from these piratas?” He rubbed his hands greedily. “Sixty percent seems reasonable, does it not?”

  She shook her head, going along with the charade. “No. Muy high. Ten percent.”

  Outrage and indignation. “Ten? For a man of my greatness?” He thumped his chest. “To an Imperial Director de Policia you want to give pesos?” He calmed, evidently liking the title. “Fifty percent.”

  “Fifteen,” she said. “And that's payment in Imperial chit rather than contraband.”

  “Agreed. Forty-five.”

  “Twenty.”

  “Forty.”

  “Twenty-five.”

  “Thirty-five.”

  “Thirty.”

  “Bueno!” Pancho slapped his knee. “We have a deal, amiga.”

  A crewman led Malek to Pancho, who greeted him with robust delight. “Ah, senor Regent-Protector. I am muy mucho happy to meet you.” He embraced Malek, then vigorously pinched and shook Malek's cheeks. “What a sweet looking hombre you are. We make you muy comfortable during your visita, si?”

  Stella savored Malek's expression. He looked like someone who found himself submerged in filth up to his goatee.

  “Remember our deal and what you've promised to do,” Stella cautioned. “It's no good if he suffers an accident.”

  “Un accidente? I would not let such a thing happen to my fine amigo here.” Pancho patted Malek on the cheek.

  Stella shifted her eyes to the view of the docking area, which was as bizarre as that of Pancho embracing Malek. Brett and other soldiers Stella had chosen entered the same boarding tube that Pancho's grimy pirates were exiting. She saw a dirty man in a sombrero and crisscrossing bandoleers strut up to Powers and pump his hand. The impeccable Colonel smiled awkwardly, blinking as his greeter pulled a cigar from his mouth and blew smoke in his face. Stella laughed softly.

  Her laughter died as she noticed Jason standing near the bridge entrance. He was gazing directly at her. Suddenly she couldn't bear to see him anymore.

  “Jason, you go too.”

  He took a few steps forward, his face uncertain. “What?”

  She pointed. “I want you on their ship too. Get your gear and board it.”

  George came toward her. “Don't do this.”

  She gazed at Jason, her face giving him no sign of recognition. “That's an order.”

  He returned her gaze for a moment, and then nodded as if it were his due. She watched him leave, feeling as if he took her heart with him.

  “Stella...” George began.

  “You can go too,” she said.

  He touched her arm. “You don't mean that.”

  “That's where you're wrong,” she said. “I do. When we first met, you started by questioning my orders. Don't do it again.”

  “You're becoming as rigid as Malek and Lovejoy,” George said. “Stella, you can't afford to be. Too much depends on what you say and do.”

  She turned to him, knowing she should reconsider but unable to. “If you like him so much, why don't you go with him? I can certainly do without you here.”

  George stared at her for several seconds. “I'll get my armor,” he said.

  * * * *

  Four days later, they reported to Loran's command center and settled into the vast armada of ships assembled in space a light-day from Cygnus X-1. Even as they entered their designated sector, Stella saw two other ships arrive.

  Inside, she felt a gaping and guilty ache. She wasn't surprised that she found Jason's absence painful. What did surprise her was George's. His absence on the bridge left a void that no one else could fill. She kept turning her head to see him, expecting to hear his voice.

  Powers turned to her with a crisp nod. “They're patching us through to Loran now, Stella.”

  She thrust Jason and George from her mind. “You say you and the General are good friends?”

  He smiled. “Not exactly, but when he visited the base, we got along well. I found him quite cordial.”

  A vid flickered, and Stella found herself facing a strikingly handsome man with silver hair. He smiled.

  “Pierce, it's good to see you again.”

  “It's a pleasure to see you, General Loran,” Powers said. “We just arrived.”

  “So I've been informed.”

  “General,” Powers said, turning to her, “may I present Stella McMasters of the Spaceranger.”

  Loran shifted his eyes to her. They were intense blue, as striking as the rest of him, and Stella remembered the holos she'd seen of him at the base. Good as they were, they didn't do him justice.

  “Commander,” Loran said, “it's a pleasure.”

  She bowed slightly. “I'm honored, General.”

  “General Loran,” Powers said, “may Commander McMasters and I meet with you at your earliest convenience?”

  Loran sat back in his chair. “Is it urgent, Pierce? I'm in a swamp at the moment.”

  “Ser,” Powers said, “it's of the utmost gravity.” Stella saw him glance at her. “Commander McMasters may have found a way to defeat the enemy.”

  Slowly, General Loran sat forward. His gaze was riveted on her.

  “I want you both here immediately,” he said.

  * * * *

  In the shuttle port, Stella saw Dr. Wynn waiting. “May I speak to you, Commander?”

  “I'm in a hurry,” Stella snapped at her, and then stopped. “How'd you know I'd be here?”

  “Chatternet, ser. The whole crew's laid bets on whether or not, and how soon, you get to meet Loran.”

  “I see.” Rumors spread quickly on a ship, and often there was more than one means of communication. Thinking of the days before she'd been an officer, Stella was remin
ded that sometimes, those without rank heard things the officers didn't.

  As Stella started to step into the pod, Dr. Wynn touched her shoulder. “Please, ser, can't you get him back?”

  Stella brushed her hand away. When she'd found them making love in Jason's room, her anger had been directed almost solely at Jason. Now it was an effort not to hit Wynn.

  “I'm afraid that's not possible,” she said.

  Dr. Wynn started crying. “I don't know why, but I feel I'll never see him again.”

  I'll never see him. Stella gave her a broad smile. “You'll get over it,” she said.

  “You shouldn't have done it, ser. We could have shared him.” She wiped her cheek. “A man like that can never be faithful.”

  Stella heard Pierce climb discreetly into the pod behind her. Raising her hand, she wiped Wynn's other cheek.

  “I never share,” Stella said.

  * * * *

  As the flagship Victory grew before them, Powers turned to her in the shuttle pod. “Since the General was friendly, it appears that Loran Base was damaged too much to send a pursuit ship through Scylla to contact him by now. Of course, he could have been bluffing, and there's no guarantee a ship won't come through later and radio Victory on this side of the singularity.”

  Stella glanced about at the thousands of ships gathered, thinking of those yet to come. “Just before we left, I thought of that. I told Pancho that if he doesn't hear from me, it'll probably mean Loran's thrown me in the brig. In that case, Pancho will contact Loran and arrange for an exchange of prisoners. He'll give them Malek if Loran lets me and the crew return in the Spaceranger.”

  “Let's hope it doesn't come to that,” Powers said. “The big issue is whether Loran will let you meet the All-Mother alone.” He shook his head. “I've never known Loran to run from a fight. To be honest, I doubt he'll do it even for Malek. Since he's a prisoner, his orders are probably invalid anyway. In any case, with the enemy's forces fast approaching, the coming battle has gone far beyond anyone's ability to stop it.”

  Jason, she thought, will I ever see you again? Will you be all right? She gripped her knee, disappointed in her own weakness. At the same time, she was glad that her rash decision to banish Jason and George to Pancho's ship would keep them out of Loran's reach. “All I know is I must convince the good general to take all this hardware home, or at least far enough away so I can joust with the All-Mother on my own terms. If he doesn't listen to reason, I'll have to use Malek as a hostage. It's our last resort, the only other way I know to get Loran to agree.”

  “And if it doesn't work?”

  Stella shrugged. “I don't know. As George would say, I'll just have to cross that bridge when I come to it.”

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  * * *

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  When they docked at the Victory, they were met by the security officer, a stunningly beautiful major named Day. She welcomed them while a team of guards searched their bodies with hands and scanners. Stella was grateful that she didn't have to strip and be probed as well.

  “We regret the necessity of this,” Day said. “But there have been some incidents lately. I hope you understand.”

  “It's perfectly all right,” Powers said. Since he outranked Stella, he spoke first and assumed the lead. “You can't be too careful.”

  “That's quite true,” Day agreed. When the search was completed, she escorted them to a lift tube.

  Watching Day's hips sway, Stella recalled chatternet about Loran liking to surround himself with beautiful women. She straightened her uniform and patted her hair, wishing she had spent more time with her appearance.

  With their guards, they entered the lift tube and rose silently. Levels flashed past, some dark, most light. She gave Powers a covert glance and saw that he looked poised and calm.

  What am I going to say to Loran?

  The problem was, she knew what she wanted him to do but not how to present it. Making speeches and offering proposals had never been her forte. Now she had to convince a man known throughout the galaxy for a lifetime of fighting to withdraw from the greatest battle of his career. How was she going to manage that?

  She had to think of something, find the right words.

  All too soon they left the tube and walked down a corridor. A door slid open, and they entered.

  And there was General Loran, rising to greet them. Stella, who had never seen him in person, knew instantly that he was the most handsome man she had ever met. He was tall, silver-haired, and had intense, piercing blue eyes. As he approached with a smile, she thought of Jason and his charm, and felt a barb of self-anger. Why was she thinking such things now when she needed all her wits?

  Fortunately, Loran addressed Powers first. “Pierce, you're looking great! Your duties must agree with you.”

  Powers smiled. “Thank you, General.”

  Loran turned. Stella could see him size her up in one quick glance and find her wanting. Or was George right in thinking that she tended to see rejection everywhere because she was a cyborg? But no-she remembered Lovejoy's and others’ insults.

  “Commander McMasters, it's a privilege to meet you.” Loran shook her hand and gave her a hint of a courtly bow. Enthralled, she mumbled something in return.

  It was only when they were seated that Stella realized Major Day-along with the guards-was still with them, standing beside Loran's desk. She wondered if other people forgot things in the Great Man's presence. Judging from the steady gaze that Day gave Loran, she was distracted too.

  Loran seated himself behind a huge silver-metal desk and leaned back. Behind him, a large circular window gaped into space. Stella could see scores of ships-some near, others more distant.

  “Well, Pierce,” said Loran, “perhaps you'd better explain what you meant when you said Commander McMasters might have a solution to the war.”

  Powers crossed his knees. “First, ser, I must report a grave and tragic event.” He hesitated. “Three weeks ago, Loran Base was severely damaged in an enemy attack. General Gage despatched the two of us to report directly to you. We were terribly fortunate to escape. Unfortunately, we don't know if anyone else did, including our Emperor.”

  Loran sat upright in his chair, his handsome face stricken. “My base!”

  Powers coughed. “You've heard nothing of this, General? We tried repeatedly to radio you, but the enemy must have blocked our transmissions.”

  “No, I've heard nothing.” Loran launched a series of questions. What had happened? When had the enemy appeared? Did Powers think the base had survived? Quietly, Powers answered him. Stella found herself wondering how she would feel if a massive base named after her had been attacked and possibly destroyed.

  At a certain point, Powers adroitly shifted the focus to Stella, informing Loran of how she and her crew had captured an enemy ship and brought it to Loran Base, thereby provoking the attack. Loran's eyes shot to her and he pressed a button on his comconsole. “Get my top command and tech staff here at once.” He looked at Stella. “Please wait, Commander. I want them all to hear this.”

  Minutes later a dozen people entered and stood silent. Some were officers, others wore tech coats.

  Loran pressed another button. “Go ahead, Commander. I'm recording this meeting. Please tell us about your experience.”

  Stella gripped the arms of her chair. “Yes, ser,” she said. “After we lost the first battle with the hostile ship, I had no choice but to board it myself with a handful of comrades. Colonel Powers has briefly summarized the events, but I can tell you that when George Darron, Brett Duvall, and a few others accompanied me onto the vessel, I had all but given up. To me it was as if we were already dead.”

  At his desk, General Loran leaned toward her. “I've had that feeling too, Commander.”

  “And then,” Stella continued, feeling herself swept away by the memory, “I saw a stricken comrade lying in a corridor of that ship, buried beneath dead bodies. His hand reached for
me, ser, and his face pleaded.”

  Stella swallowed, and her grip tightened on the chair.

  “Commander, are you all right?” Loran asked.

  “I don't think I was consciously aware of it then,” she recalled, “but at some level I felt that if I could only save that one comrade, we could win the war. I promised him we'd return even though our chances seemed nonexistent. Promised him that I'd save him.”

  Loran coughed, his eyes wet. “I know what you mean,” he said gruffly.

  Stella smiled, her own eyes moist. “And so, General, aided by a few comrades, I went forth to keep my promise against an unbeatable foe. And with God's help, I did.”

  As Loran wiped his eyes with a handkerchief, Stella heard others murmur in emotion. Eager now, she leaned toward Loran to tell him what she had experienced.

  The words came smoothly, and for the first time in her life she felt eloquent. When she told how George had killed the Slug with a Scaley weapon, people gasped in amazement. Loran stilled the voices and she continued, describing everything about the All-Mother because this time she felt she must. The only thing she avoided was the truth about Loran Base, and since Powers had already covered that subject, she barely needed to mention it.

  When she was finally finished, the room was silent. Loran's staff looked dazed and overwhelmed.

  Loran folded his hands on his desk. “And you say this All-Mother, this ... mysterious being who's in charge, wants to meet you for some undefined purpose, that she has some kind of a perverse bond with you?”

  “Yes,” Stella said. “At first she hated me for killing her son, which made her attack your base. After she did that, though, she changed. When she contacted me again, she seemed to want something more.”

  Loran's nostrils quivered, and he looked about the room. “Reactions?”

  Major Day frowned. “General, there's a lot to accept on faith. We have to examine it more closely.”

  “I agree,” said a lean man whom Stella recognized as a renowned xenologist and Scaley expert. “This is all so hard to accept.” He jammed a notebook under one arm so he could have all his fingers free to count with. “One, she says Scaleys are puppets controlled by something called Slugs. Two, all these Slugs are males and have only one mother. Three, she says she has had a ‘mind meld’ with this Slug and they were able to share each other's thoughts. Four, she manages to master the totally alien drive system and pilot this ship, which we've never even seen....”