by M S Murdock
“You say something?” She was alive with the excitement of flight. Vitality flowed from her charging the atmosphere with electricity.
“I think we might make it,” Buck said.
Wilma looked at him in mock horror. “Now you tell me! Mr. Confidence! And all this time, I thought you knew what you were doing!”
Buck grinned.
Chapter 17
Huer flashed a recent photograph of Ardala Valmar on an adjacent screen. She was dressed for a formal dinner on Mars, her dark hair twisted high on her head and caught with a glittering spray of white crystals that fanned out around her head like a halo. Her silver dress clung to her slim curves like a second skin. It was knee length, and lapped over in front, creating a provocative slit where the two pieces of fabric met. Her long legs were encased in sparkling silver hose. Buck had seen other shots of her, but not like this one. He let out a slow whistle.
“Before you get too interested, Captain,” said Wilma dryly, “I must remind you that Ardala is one of the most dangerous women in the solar system.”
“I can see that,” he said, his eyes fixed on the Screen.
“In more ways than one,” Wilma amended. For one thing, she’s related to the Martian corporate family. If her beauty were not enough, that, in itself, would assure her a position of power.”
“And she’s the one selling information about our ships?”
“Yes.” Turabian’s voice held a distinct note of distaste as he regarded the sultry Martian beauty. “She is a broker of information.”
“That’s dangerous business,” said Buck.
“As I said,” returned Wilma, “Ardala is a dangerous woman.’ ’She spoke from experience. Ardala had tried to use Wilma to recover Buck’s body. The arrangement worked out in Wilma’s favor, and she knew Ardala bore her a grudge. It was not something Wilma took lightly, for Ardala sold lives with her information, sold them without a flicker of regret.
“She also is a qualified genetic scientist, specializing in reconstruction,” said Turabian.
“That sounds altruistic.”
“Unfortunately, it’s not. She has never been known to use her talents for charitable purposes. Instead, she amuses herself by molding men in her mind’s image’s said Huer.
“What?” Buck could not comprehend it.
“She reconstructs slaves to fit her own ideals of masculine beauty,” interpreted Wilma.
“I get the picture. Not a nice lady.”
“No,” said Wilma. “Not nice at all.”
“How do we deal with her?” asked Buck.
“I hope, by computer,” said Turabian. “The less contact with Ardala Valmar, the better.”
“Doc, can you take care of this?”
“I can make the initial contact. What Miss Valmar will require then, I cannot say. She is known for unusual bargains.” Turabian shuddered. “You seem to have a close knowledge of Ardala’s methods,” said Wilma to the station commander.
“I had a friend once,” he said. “By the time Ardala was done with him, he was not recognizable. He was NEO, you see, and he sold himself to Ardala to buy the lives of his family from a corrupt RAM official. In the end, he went mad.”
“Not a nice lady,” repeated Buck.
“But an efficient information bank,” said Huer.
Buck took a long look at Ardala’s image. “I’m glad you’re the one to deal with her. See what she wants, Doc. We’ll be-” He looked to Wilma for a suitable location. . .
“My sitting room? It’s not official-looking, and it contains nothing that could identify Salvation, in case we have to make personal contact.”
“Go to it, Doc,” Buck said. . Huer winked off, and the screens he had activated blanked out as well.
00000
Chicagorg boiled with underground activity. Since RAM’s destruction of the NEO base, the city’s population existed in an uneasy limbo. The people were used to the Terrine guards who patrolled their streets, used to Doxinal, the drug with which RAM crippled their will, but they were not used to mass slaughter. It was a shock to their sensibilities. Men who had ignored their own slavery began to look around them; women who had sunk under subjection began to fight back. But they had no leader. RAM had seen to that. NEO was rebuilding, but it did not have the manpower to organize the rumbling population.
Kelth Smirnoff, commander of the Terrine guards, viewed the situation with enjoyment. He had been pleased by the strike on Chicagorg’s NEO base, but he was even more pleased NEO could not take advantage of a golden opportunity. Such a period of upheaval was rare, and a clever man might organize a rebellion from such timber, but NEO overlooked the possibilities. It had lost a man who would not have.
Smirnoff thought of Cornelius Kane, with his picture post card looks and flair for the dramatic, and grinned. The expression was wolfish. Kane was now in RAM’s camp, for better or worse or the clink of dolas in his bank account. Why didn’t matter. He was there, not in the midst of some misguided rabble fomenting revolution against the established order.
“Excuse me, sir, but there’s been another incident.” Emil Zelinsky stood at rigid attention before his visiting supervisor. “You asked to be informed.”
“So I did, K-forty-seven. Report.”
“A group of locals has stopped a RAM Hovercraft and is threatening three executives.”
“Well, well, well. We can’t have that. You’ve dispatched a unit?”
“Of course, sir.”
Smirnoff picked up his jacket, chuckling as he slipped it on. In spite of the chilly day, he was looking forward to a rare good time.
“You’re not going out on the streets, sir?” Zelinsky asked, aghast.
“Where else can I get a firsthand report of the insurrection?”
“But, sir, it’s not safe!” Zelinsky stopped himself from barring his supervisor’s way.
Smirnoff’s saturnine smile broadened. “It is for me,” he said, snapping his fingers. Two huge Terrines flanking the doorway to the office came to life. They were androids, impervious to most humanoid attack. The lack of expressive features on their flat metal faces was horrifying. “Do my bodyguards relieve your mind, K-forty-seven?”
Zelinsky saluted. “Permission to accompany you, sir”
“Come along, K-forty-seven,” said Smirnoff casually, “and see how an expert eliminates trouble.” He cocked his laser pistol and slid a new energy clip home.
OOOOO
“I’m back!” came Huer.dos’s voice from the terminal.
“Hi, Doc,” replied Buck, his mouth full. He put down a sandwich and wiped the crumbs from his mouth. “Did you find out what she wants?”
“I’m afraid so.” Huer sounded not at all enthusiastic.
“Well?” asked Wilma as she reached for a piece of fruit. She sank her teeth into it with a crunch.
“I managed to convince Ardala I was an emissary from Luna,” Huer replied.
“I hope you masked your appearance: ’Wilma said between bites.
“Please, Colonel, do not insult my intelligence. Behind a projection of a Lunar life suit, I was completely out of sight.”
“How much, Doc?” asked Buck, coming to the heart of the interview: the price for Ardala’s information.
Huer named a figure that made Wilma’s jaw drop.
“That is a lot of cash,” she said.
“Why do you suppose the price is so high? Did she give you any specifics on the contents of the shipment?” asked Buck.
“No. But I was unable to determine from our interview whether she actually knew about the ships or not.” Huer’s face seemed paler since they last had seen him.
“In any case, we can’t afford to take chances. We need a grace period,” said Wilma, chewing thoughtfully.
“At least until we break cover,” agreed Buck.
“I submit what matters now is where the money is going to come from. NEO can’t afford to subsidize this,” Wilma said.
“Wouldn
’t expect it to.” Buck looked over at Barney, lounging in the corner like a black monolith. He did not fit any of the chairs, so he had discarded them and was leaning against the wall. “Barney. This is your area. What do you do when you want cash?”
“Take it,” replied the pirate, in his deep voice.
“Why can’t we do a little computerized piracy?” asked Wilma. “Just transfer the money from some particularly objectionable RAM division.”
“Too risky,” said Huer. “RAM may overlook a lot of things, but money isn’t one of them. Some zealous bookkeeper would track down a missing dola, not to mention hundreds of thousands.”
“You were saying?” Wilma asked the pirate.
“You should know the ropes,” said Barney, reminding Wilma of her days as his indentured commander.
Wilma shook her head. “I think we need something that won’t cause immediate attention. Most of the targets we’re used to hitting get reported immediately.”
“If you want to avoid detection, steal from a thief,” said Buck.
Wilma’s eyes went wide. “What a lovely ideal” she said. “Who do we know who can afford to back us?”
Barney’s lips stretched in what he thought was a smile. “How about that regent, Chernenko?” he asked.
“Steal from RAM’s very own regent?” The thought sent amber lights of amusement into Wilma’s eyes.
“Sounds like my kind of party,” said Buck, “but doesn’t he keep his accounts by computer like everyone else?”
“Mostly,” said Barney. “But he has an emergency fund, negotiable in any culture.”
“Jewels,” said Wilma, guessing.
Barney nodded.
Since you proposed this, I assume you know where he keeps them,” Buck said to the pirate.
Barney nodded again.
“How long will it take you to get them?” asked Buck.
“A day,” said Barney.
“How does that fit in with Ardala’s schedule?”
“She’s given us six hours to ‘consider her needs,’ as she put it,” said Huer.
“Barney, you’re going to have to speed up your operation.” “Konii won’t like it,” he said. “But it can be done. You willing to scrap that war memorial you flew here in?”
“If we have to. Doc, I want your opinion. Do you really think Ardala’s got enough information to pose a threat?”
Huer’s answer was unhesitating. “Yes. All she has to do is report the approximate size of the shipment for RAM to connect the transport time with the theft of Hauberk’s lighters. Any computer could do it.”
Buck sighed. “Then I suppose we have to deal.”
Barney shoved himself from the wall. “I’d better net the troops. No telling how they’re going to take this-the second operation in as many days, with no divvy-and this one ready cash.” He headed for the door, his weight making the deck of Salvation’s living quarters creak.
As the door slid shut behind him, Turabian, silent during the whole exchange, spoke up. “You’re trusting him?” he asked incredulously.
“Yep,” said Buck.
“But he’s notorious! You just sent a pirate out to steal a cache of jewels, and you think he’s going to bring them back to you? I cannot believe the entire twentieth century was this naive.” “Buck may be naive, Commander, but in this case he’s right. Barney will bring him the jewels.”
“Pardon me, Colonel, if your concurrence does not ease my doubts,” Turabian said.
“Buck beat him, Commander. Do you know what that means in Barney’s code of ethics?”
“No.”
“It means,” said Buck, “that I am the captain.”
“There are few rules on a pirate vessel, Commander, but chief among them is loyalty and absolute obedience to the captain. Any breach of this is punishable by death. Barney will bring back Cherenko’s jewels.”
“And then we can buy information she probably doesn’t have from Ardala Valmar, with money no one will admit has been taken. If you’ll pardon me, I think I’ll go check on the progress Lafayette is making with your new armada.”
“Well,” said Buck. “Things are getting complicated.”
“Indeed they are,” Wilma agreed.
“What do you think, Wilma?”
“It’s a little late to wonder if we’re doing the right thing,” she said. “That’s not what worries me. I was wondering if you think we can do it,” Buck said.
“Take Hauberk?”
“Yeah.” Wilma repressed the urge for a hug, reminding herself of her professional relationship with Buck. “I really don’t know,” she said. “All I can tell you is that, for the first time, I think there’s a chance. It’s a slim one, but it’s there. Those ships Huer appropriated are the first step, one I never expected.” She cocked her head and studied Buck’s rugged profile. “I will say one thing. Life is never dull with you around.”
“That’s the way I like to keep it,” said Buck.
Chapter 18
We’re going to hit Mars.”
Salvation III’s briefing room was still.
Sixteen pilots regarded Buck Rogers and Wilma Deering with tense expectation, but no one said a word.
Buck grinned. “I see I got your attention.”
“That you did,” replied Washington.
“You might have noticed we’re a little short of ships,” Buck added.
Washington nodded. “About twelve.”
“We’re going after them.”
“On Mars?” asked Rickenbacker. “All of us? If they get us, most of NEO’s fighter complement will be destroyed.
It’s a big chance, but there’s no other way. Doc Huer located twenty more kraits on Mars at RAM’s testing grounds. Someone has to fly those ships out. You’re the only pilots who can do it.
“The Tharsian Plateau?” Earhart whistled though her teeth. “That’s fortified like a bank vault.”
“Sure, but it has a weakness.”
“The Tharsian Plateau is more than a base for testing weapons,” said Wilma. “Its original purpose was to test RAM’s troops. It has been, and still is, the site of maneuvers for RAM’s most elite fighting forces, ground and air. We’re going to use that to our advantage.”
Earhart shook her head. “RAM uses live ammunition, even when it plays. You know that.”
“That’s the risky part,” said Buck, his blue eyes dancing. “The advantage is the Tharsian Plateau has never faced the real thing. Our chances of getting away with a strike are good.”
“If we survive,” said Earhart cryptically.
“We do have an edge. Right now, Doc Huer is finding out all he can about the plateau’s headquarters, its weapons, and its troop strengths. Like any good guerrilla operation, we’ll sneak in, take what we want, and sneak back out. And if we can’t sneak out, we’ll blast our way out, in the hottest birds in the air.”
Wilma leveled her warm eyes at the assembly. “This is strictly a volunteer mission,” she said. “And it hasn’t been run by a committee. For security’s sake,” she added virtuously, but her words were transparent. Every pilot in the room knew Turabian would never favor an operation where losses could be so damaging. Wilma and Buck were on their own.
“As I see it,” said Washington, “if we want those ships, we take the chance.”
“That’s about the size of it. We need a full wing to hit Hauberk. Without it, we might as well out power now,” Buck reasoned.
Washington’s icy eyes twinkled. “I’m not in this for my health,” he said, making a thumbs-up gesture.
One by one, the remaining fifteen pilots followed suit.
OOOOO
Black Barney’s Free Enterprise stood off Mars, its star field camouflage making it invisible to all but the most sensitive scanners. The red planet hovered in ominous beauty below, its thin atmosphere softening the colors to pastel where the cloud cover was thickest. The pirate ship’s sensors were trained on an area roughly three hundred miles sout
hwest of Mona Olympus, in the Martian highlands. This was the Tharsian Plateau, a dry, rocky plain dotted with craters that were ankle deep with powdery red dust where the fierce Martian winds had eroded rock. The sensors scanned each crater in sequence, then zeroed in on the most remote. Like the others, its rim was studded with laser cannons and infrared sensors that revolved continuously, vigilant for intruders. They were placed so their combined fire covered every centimeter of surrounding soil and air for kilometers.
“Where’s headquarters?” asked Buck, squinting at the viewscreen.
“Here,” said Wilma, pointing to the exact center of the crater.
“Underground.”
“Yes. It’s easier than cloaking it. That way, RAM can save her power for the guns. Headquarters is sitting on top of the generator that feeds the lasers, and none of the lasers points into the crater itself.”
“The generator’s too deep for us,” said Buck. “What we need to do is knock out those sensors, and get in close enough to kill the cannons.”
Wilma pointed to a faint circle of white dots. They reminded Buck of the chalk circles at Stonehenge, “These are the sensor dishes. We’ll have to take them all out to blind the station.”
Buck whistled through his teeth. “Maybe we won’t have to do that. . . .” His mind fell back on an even more covert plan.
“I agree, Captain.” Huer’s face peered down at Buck and Wilma from one of the pirate ship’s viewscreens. “I can pick up the sensors’ timing from the ratio of their revolutions. Given that, I can calculate their approximate capabilities, then map out a route and timetable for a run.”
“Approximate?” asked Buck, an eyebrow rising.
“I thought you said you liked to take chances,” Huer said with uncharacteristic wit.
“It will work,” said Wilma, her eyes serious. “In my pirate days, I hit an asteroid dock fortified like this. On a smaller scale, of course. And there were no ground troops.”
