My arm around a Gecko’s throat, I took a quick look around. At least five of the pirates were on the ground, but at least twice that many of my force were wounded and gasping. A human female lay on the floor as limp as a discarded sock. I couldn’t see her face. My heart wrenched with shame. These brave beings were my responsibility! I had to prevent any more casualties.
“We must isolate them somewhere until we can find Parsons,” I said. “We need a distraction.”
“Are you kidding?” she asked. She secured the crewbeing’s one hand and reached for the other. The Gecko kicked nimbly out at her and Rous dove for its feet, holding it still while she fastened the pirate’s arms under its tail. “How? What?”
What, indeed?
The captain shook off the four humans trying to hold it and made for the door again.
“No, sir!” I shouted. I sidled into his path with my sword pointed at its eye, daring it to defy me. “You shall not pass!”
“You uniformed action figure!” he snarled. “Get out of my way!”
He barreled forward, intending to go through me. I lunged, scoring a slash on the bridge of his nose just short of his left eye. Purple blood spurted. I wasn’t sure which of us was more surprised, he or I. I danced backward as he lumbered toward me.
While fending off the huge Croctoid with my sword, I scanned the enemy combatants. None of the pirates seemed worth taking as a hostage. Knowing the ruthless nature of such beings and their purported guidelines, I doubted they would pursue us to rescue one of their own. But lying on their abandoned dining table was something they could not and would not do without: their ship’s half-license. The captain had left the square of indestructible metal beside his platter, no doubt believing that he could retrieve it at his leisure after he had disposed of as many of us as necessary before the local constabulary was summoned.
I lunged toward the Croctoid, parrying the very barrel of the pistol in his hand. He let off a shot at the ceiling by mistake. A light fixture exploded, raining shards of plastic down on us. All around us, Chan’s militia was doing their best to control and contain the rest of the crew without killing them. The pirates were under no such restraint. Torkadir, or perhaps Premulo, fell, his leg sticking out sideways at a horribly unnatural angle. My internal organs knotted in sympathy, but I needed to look to my own survival. I recovered forward and ducked under Growteing’s crooked arm. He spun, more slowly than a human would, drawing a fresh bead upon me.
I took advantage of his dilatory movements. Beating another Croctoid’s gun with my sword hilt to point upward, I slipped among the thrashing forms of my troops wrestling with pirate adversaries in the direction of my prey. The captain finished his rotation and ended up facing me just in time to ascertain my intent.
“No! Curse you!”
I hoped his curse would not take. I reached the table and snatched up the metal square. I held it up triumphantly. He roared out more invective. I made a face at him and ran toward the rear of the restaurant.
“Retreat!” I called. With the map of the area limned upon my mind as brightly as the exit sign overhead, I headed toward the back door that opened out into the service passage where deliveries were made. “Team A, follow me! We can lead them into a trap! Team B, stay behind them and make sure none of them remains here! We can take them!”
“What?” Plet’s voice echoed breathless in my ear. “Where?”
My mind raced through the possibilities open to us. Our ship was out of the question. The crew might decide to flee to its own vessel and threaten others with its onboard cannon and missile until I was forced to return the license. The station manager had not taken my warning seriously, and was more likely to be hindrance than help. Sweating, I strained my cerebral faculties for inspiration.
Yes!
There was only one place that I could think of that would—could—act as a temporary holding cell until Parsons or the Wedjet returned to take the crew into custody.
“The hotel ballroom!” I cried.
“What?”
“We will lure them into that wonderful maze of walls and floors. If I stir it up, I believe I can box them in a room without doors until they could be taken into custody.”
“And that’s your plan?” Plet hissed.
“Yes!”
There was a brief silence, and I thought that I had lost her.
“Actually, that’s a good idea. We’ll try to buy you some time.”
“Carry on, troops!” I shouted into the communications link. “Evasive maneuvers, and protect the public!”
I shot away, waving my booty over my head in a fleering manner. The pirate captain let out a roar of fury and stumbled after me, shoving aside damaged furniture and dithering traybots. I ran down the length of the enormous room, weaving between hastily abandoned tables and upset chairs. I leaped over a cowering server and skidded to a halt at the control beside the service door.
My enemy bore down on me, as I had predicted. My move was not without precedent. I had once snatched the lunch of a bigger cousin with a notoriously bad temper on a dare when I was in school. My long legs gave me the only advantage I had, fleeing from an angry, much larger opponent. This time, however, I was unprepared for the frisson of cold fear that went up my body as the entire crew left their individual battles and came after me. There was a lengthy hesitation before the door opened. For a moment I was afraid that it required some kind of security code. In eight paces, the Croctoid captain would be upon me.
At last, with a weary explosion of sound, the door slid into the wall to the right. A noisome wind, redolent with the fumes of ancient garbage, fuel, body odor and mildew, whooshed into my face. I gagged in a breath of only half-rotted air, and fled.
Into a rectangular tunnel I dashed. Pools of faint yellow light from emergency fixtures were my main source of illumination at first, but a blast of bright whiteness blinded me. I burst through it blindly. Motion-sensitive lamps were fixed into the walls at the rear door of the business establishments on this corridor to facilitate deliveries during less hostile moments. I hoped that my pursuers were as taken off guard as I was.
The hammering of shipboots behind propelled me forward like an afterburner. I navigated by memory, feeling my way down the steel corridor for the third left. Was it the third? Could I be mistaken? No, I was positive it was the third. Here it was!
I flew into the darkened turnoff. My eyes, stunned by the flashes of light, took a while to become accustomed to the blackness of this passageway. I sought the second of two narrow doorways close together after six irregularly spaced doors. It should put me into the main corridor just outside the tavern to which Chan and the others had taken me for a drink. I did not want to chance leading the pirates through the crowds down to the hotel, but did I have a choice? I could not take the time to read my map. Oh, for the heads-up display in my combat helmet back in the ship! I could hear the captain behind me, swearing as he lumbered along. More heavy footsteps joined his. Alarmed, I increased my pace. A painful stitch arose in my right ribcage. I ignored it. The side of my head ached from the energy blast, and my shoulder ached from the Croctoid captain’s blow. Nothing mattered but getting the pirates to a place of temporary incarceration until Parsons could be located. I toggled my communications link.
“Plet, I’m about to emerge into traffic. Is there an alternative that will not put me into traffic? I am weary of annoying heavily armed babysitting robots.”
“Yes, sir!” Plet’s voice rose over static in my ear. “Stay on this corridor for another thirty meters. I can guide you through accessways. Listen carefully. You are getting out of range. Left, third left, right, right, down cargo tube four levels, left, long corridor, last door at the end. Do you have that? I will repeat it until team B rejoins you in the ballroom.”
Bless her efficiency. I was good at learning trivia and song lyrics on one hearing, but between alarm and static, I was uncertain. I listened, attempting to picture the route, mindful of the consequences sh
ould I fail. The next time, a nanibot’s wild shots would certainly do to me what the pirates had so far failed to accomplish.
Behind me, the movement-controlled lights flashed on and off, causing the shadow thrown ahead of me to strobe. I glanced back. Four-legged crewbeings swarmed after me. They were much closer than I had anticipated. Two Geckos passed their slower comrades and were in danger of catching up with me. Their voices echoed in the stinking hallway. Heedless of the pain now wracking the entire right side of my body, I summoned all my speed and ran.
The narrow alley into which Plet directed me had a floor that was both slippery and sticky. I only hoped that the uncertain footing would cause my pursuers to fare worse than I did. My boots alternately slid or caught in the dark green goo. I cannoned off the walls more than once.
Suddenly, a hand seemed to reach out of the darkness to my left. I flinched, then my eyes focused. It was not a hand, but a metal gate of some kind, left partway open by its last user. My approach made its circuitry wake up and close the rest of the way. I was unlucky enough to get caught in its sweep. I dodged, or thought I had, but it came out and struck me across the midsection.
“Oof!” Inelegant, I admit, but I hadn’t time to come up with a clever outburst. My ribs hurt! To my dismay, the license was knocked out of my hand.
The metal clattered upon the soiled floor. I looked back. My pursuers heard the noise, and picked up their pace. I dropped to my knees and fumbled in the dark for the square of metal, collecting a good deal of the stinking slime on my hands in the process. At last my fingertips met the edge. I scraped it up with my fingernails and clapped it to my side. Conveniently, the ambient sludge helped it adhere to my uniform tunic. I would not lose it again.
“Status!” I barked into my pickup. My voice sounded hoarse.
“Wait a minute,” said Chan. “Juhrman stayed behind in group B. I’m listening to him. I’ll be back to you in a moment.”
Plet’s voice came thinly through a wave of static. “The crew is nearly on top of you, sir. The alley will widen out in a moment, then you have a choice of directions.”
I scanned my surroundings. A bright yellow square loomed out of the darkness.
“I see an access sign! I can turn right out into the main road.”
“No! I can keep you out of the thoroughfare all the way to the hotel entrance, if you follow my instructions.” Her voice cracked, and I realized that I might lose her to the interference.
“Tell me, quickly,” I pleaded.
A hot red burst of plasma splattered a light fixture near me. The Geckos were much faster than their companions, and were at last on my tail. But I was still faster than they, and fear gave me afterburners.
“In one hundred meters, you will see the lift downward . . .”
My attention to the voice in my ear must have caused me to slow down in a darkened portion of the corridor. A weight landed upon my back and bore me to the sticky floor. I guessed by the weight it was a Gecko. We rolled together. A second body, as light as the first, joined the fray. I knew from wrestling with my shipmates that impact to their sensitive earspots could incapacitate them. They knew it, too, striving to keep my hands away from the sides of their heads. They knew, too, that knocking my nose in would incapacitate me. We flailed around the floor, trying to slap one another in the face.
I felt a hard mass ram into my hip. I felt downward and wrenched the pistol from the Gecko’s shipsuit pocket. It fought to get it back, scratching at my face and arms, but I forced my way to my feet and held it too high for the being to reach. You may call it wasted effort and time, but I dialed the setting back from kill to stun before I blasted its owner in the face. He dropped. I walked my shots to flank the second one, and succeeded in knocking her weapon out of her hand. I raised the gun to render her unconscious, but she was too quick. She dashed back into the darkness. The footsteps of the others were much nearer. I turned and ran, tucking the gun into my belt.
With Plet’s voice in my ear, I ran toward a door through which issued a pink light. An open-sided pressure tube there acted as an elevator. It was an old-fashioned type, but those that still ran were hard to get rid of once they had been installed, because removing the tunnel often caused the collapse of the surrounding structure, so most edifices, like old colonies, that had them kept them running, but did not use them as much as better and safer structures like elevators and moving stairs. Steeling myself, I took a flying leap for it. I needed to penetrate the outer stream, which was at least two meters thick in one of these contraptions, to the center core, which bore the rider or cargo downward.
My heart bulged upward into my throat as passed through the strong updraft and was caught half a floor upward by the equally powerful downdraft. I needed to count four floors. Two Croctoids, Growteing and one other, hurtled out of the darkness and plunged into the stream, hands outstretched for my throat and the precious license. I flinched backwards, and fell into the updraft with them tumbling against me. We were battered against the walls by our momentum. I was swept ten floors up in the outer stream until I fought my way back into the central column of rushing air that snatched me and dragged me downward. The Croctoids were swept upward several more floors before they swam into the downdraft to follow me. Their eyes gleamed down at me in the sickly pink light. They did not dare take a shot at me here lest they cause an explosion in the pressure tube that would kill all of us, but they shouted threats and demands. I held onto the license, attached firmly to my uniform, my only hope.
I faked jumping into open doorways twice. I lost one of the Croctoids on the floor immediately below my target. Captain Growteing stayed with me, but I still had an advantage over him: he did not know where I was going. After several dizzying ups and downs, I sprang out of the pressure tube. My first steps on a plascrete floor were as unsteady as a newborn lamb’s, but luckily the residue from the corridor floor on the bottom of my boots helped my feet stick tightly. I regained my equilibrium swiftly and began again to run. With the Croctoid captain’s angry shouts behind me, I opened up some distance.
Chapter 15
It must have been a shock to the well-coiffed employees at the opulent check-in desk when I burst out of the wall looking like a tramp that had taken an accidental ride in a garbage scow. They stared at me, with the correct expression of haughty disapproval. I straightened my back and adjusted my cap which was, miraculously, still on my head.
“Where is Ms. Lutsen?” I demanded.
Fortunately, the lady was mere steps away, behind the thin partition. She appeared and beheld me with some horror.
“Lord Thomas!” she exclaimed.
“I apologize for my attire,” I burst out, “but it is imperative that we make use of your ballroom again.” A roar shook the wall through which I had just emerged. “Urgently. As in this very moment.”
“I don’t know if we can accommodate you,” Ms. Lutsen said, looking elegantly worried. “We have another party coming in two hours. We need to get the facility cleaned and set up . . .”
“You are too kind,” I said, with a bow and a smile, as if she had said yes. I looked around the elegant foyer. A heavy antique sideboard would buy me a moment or two more. I seized upon it and began to drag it toward the door. Its feet screamed a protest on the shining floor. “And by the way, I suggest you evacuate the hotel. At least this floor. And any rooms that border the ballroom. At once.”
“But, Lord Thomas!” the banquet manager protested.
“I will give you an explanation later,” I said, setting my burden in place with a thump, “but I would suggest you remove yourselves now. Lock the front door. Tell everyone that there is a leak.”
“What kind of leak?” demanded a young man with swooping locks of enameled black hair.
“Anything that will prevent them from trying to get in until this is settled,” I said. “It’s a naval matter. Please excuse me.” I broke away, hoping I had not been too rude, but time was fleeting.
Ms. Lutsen mu
st have given her consent, because the ballroom doors opened for me. I hit the emergency control to slam them shut. They wouldn’t lock—such a thing was not permitted in a residential facility in use for fear of trapping living beings in an emergency—but I needed a few minutes unobserved so that the pirates could not see what I was doing. I flew to the control panel. I had enjoyed playing with the floors and walls of the modular structure, but now I needed to concentrate in deadly seriousness. In my mind I constructed a living maze, one that would keep on changing until I could trap the pirates into a small inner chamber without doors or windows. I began to program my ideas into the panel, setting timers on each successive change. If only Parsons would return! Once I had my program in place, I tried signaling him again. Nothing. Where was he?
I heard a harrowing crash and an outcry from the lobby. Growteing had burst through the barrier. The others could not be far behind.
“You softskin, I will tear your head off and use it as a handball!”
I shouted into my communicator. “Chan, Plet, where are you?”
“About seventy meters, sir!” Plet replied, her voice sounding stronger than before. I was relieved.
“Right,” I said. “My maze is based upon the Keight garden party design. When you get in here, go in as far as you can, and turn right. Then left. Then right, then left. Keep to that pattern. Doors will disappear; walls will change. If a staircase presents itself, take it, but do not vary the pattern.”
“Yes, sir!” they chorused.
The Croctoid came roaring toward me. He was so slow that I had to wait in the entrance to my trap.
“I will tear you apart, human! Give back the license!”
I sneered at him, and gave him my best derisive laugh.
“No, I think I’ll have it made into a backdrop for my waste disposer,” I said. “It will improve my aim.” I waved the square of metal in his direction. He raised his pistol. I fled into the labyrinth. Red light exploded behind me. Gobbets of plastic flew from the wall frame. I heard his heavy footsteps and laboring breath.
The View from the Imperium Page 21
