The Stellar Death Plan (Masters of Space Book 1)

by Robert E. Vardeman

  Humbolt scowled at Cameron, bent over and toggled an intercom switch. “Send the … gentleman in,” he ordered.

  When the alien walked into the room, Humbolt had to motion Cameron to silence. A second glance at the fop made him power down his robot. The machine had begun a deeper humming and the wire antennae whipped about with the frenzy of a trapped insect.

  “Good day. It is kind of you to honor us with your presence, Warden Quonpta.” Humbolt almost choked on the alien’s name.

  “Delete false sentiment,” the alien said in a gravelly voice. “I find great trouble in my position. Never before has prisoner escaped. My place at the wardenship is now in question.”

  “As it should be,” muttered Cameron. “You must perform your task well to expect continued tenure.” The alien swung at the waist, his feet remaining firmly fixed on the soft carpet. Twisted at this impossible angle, he said, “You are the hunter?”

  “A crude description,” said Cameron, smiling. “Think of me as the man who will save your reputation.”

  The emphasis in Cameron’s words did not go by the alien unnoticed. He said, “Dealing with space debris such as yourself is similarly ugly to one of my station.”

  “Gentlemen, please,” Humbolt said. “Let’s not allow personal differences to cloud the issue. We have mutual interests. Let’s explore how to best serve those interests.”

  “Why do you wish one of your inferior species returned to my planet prison?” Quonpta asked.

  “You forget that this ‘inferior’ species escaped your world,” said Cameron with some venom. “No other species has done that, is that not correct?”

  “You wish him removed from some larger scheme,” the alien went on. “This is the only reason you would consider dealing with me.”

  “Our reasons,” cut in Humbolt, “are our own. If both your and our reasons are served, where is the controversy?”

  “I cannot authorize pursuit,” said Quonpta, his gravelly voice turning basso. “We do not have the guards to spare, nor has this matter ever occurred to require such planning.”

  “I will see to the prisoner’s return,” said Cameron. “If he tries to find refuge in any human-settled world, I will find him.”

  “And if he attempts to hide among Biz … among alien populations,” said Humbolt, “we require of you a permit for Mr. Cameron to enter those worlds, to pursue and capture.”

  “Individual worlds relinquish their rights with great difficulty,” the alien warden said.

  “It won’t be easy obtaining the proper documents, you’re saying,” said Cameron, “but they can be furnished. They will be furnished, won’t they, Warden?”

  Quonpta bobbed his head and flapped long, slender arms as if they were wings. Both men took this to mean agreement.

  “Tell us more of the escape,” said Humbolt. “We’ve had only sketchy reports.”

  “I will not tell you the prison world’s location,” the alien said.

  “We haven’t asked. Although we have every hope in the cosmos that no other miscreant of our race is sentenced to this world, we have no desire to meddle in your judicial system, either. If secrecy of the world is part of that system, well … ” Cameron spread his hands and smiled wickedly.

  “A human starship entered the system, emitting a bogus distress signal.”

  “What sort of … bogus distress signal?” asked Cameron, his steel-gray eyes now half hooded and his concentration total.

  “Engine malfunction. Indications of deliberate overload were evidenced at many observation spots in the system. The pilot attempted radio communications while in shift space.”

  “That does seem suspect,” said Humbolt. “Everyone knows that isn’t possible, that it will cause an infinite drain on engines.”

  Cameron said nothing.

  “The ship vectored directly for planetary landing, using emergency rockets.”

  “The main stardrive was out of commission, then?” asked Humbolt.

  “That much is verifiable. Power levels were not at stardrive capability. The ship lands, prisoner Kinsolving enters and our orbiting guard station begins raying.”

  “Did your laser cannon damage the ship?” asked Humbolt.

  “The landing was precise and occurred at the instant when our station could not adequately protect the integrity of our system.”

  “You’re saying, Warden, that the beam dispersion in the atmosphere was so great that the ship escaped damage.” Cameron’s lips continued to move in silent speech long after he’d made this simple statement.

  “That is so. The starship recovered power levels, launched and attained orbit. By the time the guard station had come into position to properly use its weapons, the starship shifted into hyperspace beyond our authority.”

  “Did you get a launch vector?”

  “Inconclusive. There is nothing along that geodesic of hyper-travel. It is our belief that the star-ship shifted, when only a short distance, recovered orientation in four-space, then shifted toward some other location. The launch from orbit was either done to confuse us or in panic to avoid our laser cannon.”

  “Either way, they seem to have escaped neatly,” said Humbolt. Real admiration rang in his voice. Any triumph over the aliens ranked high in his mind, even if it had been accomplished by one he’d rather see dead.

  “Kinsolving’s description has been circulated among all races using our prison world. He will find it difficult to escape should he be foolish enough to land on any of them.”

  “That still leaves human worlds — and those cultures not using your prison world. Which are those?” asked Cameron.

  “I am not at liberty to divulge such information. Much of the prison world’s efficiency is due to secrecy.”

  “It won’t be secret when Kinsolving sits down and figures out where the world is — but then he already knows, doesn’t he? Or someone working closely with him does. It couldn’t be an accident that this starship happened by to pick him up.”

  “That is my thought, Director Humbolt. That is why I come in answer to your summons. If you will seek him, a reward will be offered.”

  “I ask nothing,” said Cameron, “other than the planetary entry permits. Justice will be served.”

  “Do you hate this Kinsolving so that you send ones like that after him?” asked Quonpta of Humbolt.

  “Mr. Cameron is a valued employee of Interstellar Materials. He will perform well. Now, Warden, there is one point you have neglected to mention which would be of immense value to us if we are to find Kinsolving.”

  Human eyes locked with alien. Quonpta finally said, “The recognition signal of the starship was recorded. It is probably false. Why risk such a daring mission and not change your signal?”

  “Why have a signal at all?” asked Cameron. His eyes had closed entirely now. “Why attempt a sneak to a prison world’s surface blaring out any recog signal?”

  “Here. This means nothing to us. Your registry might aid you.”

  Quonpta dropped a small metallic disk to Humbolt’s desktop. Without another word, the alien warden swung about and left.

  Humbolt heaved a deep sigh and settled back in his chair. “Glad he’s gone. Those Bizzies give me the creeps.”

  “Know your enemy,” said Cameron. “Consider this. He is panicked enough over Kinsolving’s escape to come to Gamma Tertius 4. He came to a human-populated world. I think I can expect my entry permits onto any number of their worlds.”

  “Only the ones not alerted to Kinsolving’s escape,” said Humbolt. “Why allow you to duplicate their police forces’ efforts?”

  “Not so, Director,” said Cameron. “The permits will be a mix of worlds. The Bizarres have no desire to make information available to us easily. They might fear we will find out their prison world’s true location. Imagine recruiting their criminals for use against them.”

  “An interesting idea,” said Humbolt. “But the danger posed by Kinsolving and the knowledge he carries about the Plan outw
eighs such speculations.”

  “What does he know that the Bizzies would believe?”

  “Perhaps nothing. We cannot risk any leakage to the Bizzies of the Plan. Not at this stage.” Humbolt folded his hands across his chest and leaned far back in his chair. “It’s a pity we can’t recruit Kinsolving.”

  “Is there any way to burn out his brain and reprogram?” asked Cameron.

  “Hardly. The traits in him we’d most like to use would vanish with massive brain-burning. A pity.”

  “What of the source of his information? What of Ala Markken?”

  “It was a lapse on her part,” Humbolt said too quickly. “She won’t make the same mistake twice.”

  “She has been rotated back to GT 4, hasn’t she? Perhaps attached to your personal staff?” Cameron grinned wickedly.

  “That does not concern you. The leak will not recur. Ala is a loyal worker for both IM and the Plan. I suggest that you match her diligence.”

  “Of course, Director.” Cameron picked up the metallic disk left by the alien prison warden. He popped it into a wrist reader. Cameron’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “This is an interesting deception on Kinsolving’s part,” Cameron said. “Such irony I had not expected from him.”

  “What is it?”

  “The registry for the rescuing starship. It’s registered to Galaxy Pharmaceuticals and Medical Techtronics.”

  “Coincidence,” snorted Humbolt. “There’s no way Interstellar Materials and GPMT could have been tied together in this.”

  “Unless our Mr. Kinsolving knows more of the Plan than you think.”

  “Ala doesn’t know of GPMT’s involvement. Just IM’s. This isn’t possible.”

  “Kinsolving appears more dangerous to the Plan than you had thought, Director. Perhaps I should begin my investigation at GPMT.” Cameron smiled at the man’s obvious discomfort.

  “Get Kinsolving. Stop him.”

  “It would be in our best interests to find out exactly how much he knows of the Plan — and the source of his information. Your, uh, bed companion might know more of the Plan than you do, Director.”

  “Ala’s … ” Humbolt cut off his angry retort. Cameron baited him, enjoying the spectacle of a powerful director of Interstellar Materials floundering about.

  “I’ll start on our valiant, inventive Mr. Kinsolving’s trail immediately,” said Cameron. “I have a few ideas which might bring him to, uh, justice, soon.”

  Humbolt waved his hand to dismiss Cameron. The man left, the robot tracker following at his heels. Humbolt wished he could activate the robot for just an instant and dispatch Cameron with his own diabolical device.

  But he couldn’t do that. He needed Cameron. The Plan needed Cameron.

  And Kenneth Humbolt needed to have a long talk with Ala. What had the woman learned of the Stellar Death Plan — and what had she told Barton Kinsolving?

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Barton Kinsolving found himself talking to an appreciative audience. No matter what he said, even trivial matters dealing with mining, Lark Versalles hung on every word, adoration in her bright blue eyes. And Kinsolving found himself equally fascinated by the lovely woman. As he spoke, her skin tint changed, sometimes dramatically with sharp mood shift, sometimes subtly with highlights of a sparkling dust showing through her translucent skin.

  The softer tones that mingled with the more passionate reds and purples he had seen earlier told of her current emotional state — she swung between outright lust for him and a less intense curiosity about his adventures. But both states produced electric, well-defined colors.

  “Tell me more,” she urged, “about the prison world.”

  Kinsolving took a deep breath. “The aliens simply drop their convicts on this world. There’s not much else to tell.”

  “To live or die on their own,” Lark said breathlessly. She found true fascination in such a sentence. The romance of it — and her part in aiding Kinsolving to escape — flushed her skin with a brighter scarlet and flaring purples that shifted form even as he watched. Kinsolving didn’t know if the woman or her cosmetic dyes intrigued him more.

  “I could never have made it, not even for a week, without the Sussonssan’s help. He kept me alive long enough to learn how to survive on my own.”

  “You liked him?”

  “I did, in a way. There were others I liked, too, but I never got to know them as well. It’s much like my professor in graduate school said. The aliens have different concerns but they are people, too. Learn what is important to them and they become more like humans and less … bizarre.” This last word almost burnt Kinsolving’s tongue. He had heard Cameron use it, and Humbolt, and even Ala Markken. It had connotations of racial hatred in it that he couldn’t stomach. The short time he’d spent on the prison world had convinced him that humans and aliens could live together and even prosper. They had no designs on humans or human-settled worlds. They had vast ranges of space for their own, having been stargoing centuries longer than mankind.

  Hadn’t he been treated more brutally by his own kind than by the aliens, especially those like the toad creature who had unselfishly aided him when he’d needed it most? It had been Humbolt and Cameron who traded him for the ones responsible for stealing the ore from Deepdig number two. The Lorr had only reacted according to their own system of justice. Even on Earth miscarriages of justice occurred that had nothing to do with racial hatreds.

  “Do you know anything about the Plan?” he asked Lark.

  “Plan? Me?” She laughed, the emerald greens in her cheeks showing sharp spikes as she did so. “Daddy’s always telling me I should plan ahead. I never do. Maybe I can’t. Live for the day. Carpe diem is the old saying. Why should I bother thinking about the future when the present is so thrilling?” Lark snuggled closer to Kinsolving. “After all, my renegade darling, you’ve brought more supercharged excitement into my life than anyone in the past six months.”

  Kinsolving didn’t want to ask what Lark had found as exciting as aiding a prison escape. He wasn’t sure he could handle it.

  “Never mind. I just thought that you might have heard it mentioned. You travel in high circles.”

  “I party in high circles,” she corrected. “Business is so boring. Daddy is always telling me I ought to get involved, that he’ll start me out in something of my own. Why bother?”

  “You can’t simply roam the stars forever,” Kinsolving pointed out. “You’ll need money one day, a job, want to settle down.”

  “Never!” Lark Versalles denied vigorously. “Daddy’ll leave me zillions and zillions, more than I can squander in a dozen lifetimes. Why work when I can do as I please, when I please, no matter where? And ‘settling down’ sounds more like choosing where I want a grave. There’s so much to see and do.”

  “Parties to attend,” Kinsolving said sarcastically.

  Lark missed the insult. “Yes! And fun to have.” Her cheeks and forehead flushed a light orange that should have been eerie but on Lark wasn’t.

  He started to protest, but Lark’s arms were far stronger than he’d anticipated. She held him down firmly and by the time he wiggled free, he had no real desire to leave her.

  “The nav-computer has located four RR Lyrae stars. That’s enough to give us a precise fix in space,” Kinsolving told Lark.

  “We’re going to Gamma Tertius 4?”

  Kinsolving nodded. That seemed the only route open to him, even though he didn’t know exactly what he would do once he arrived at IM’s corporate headquarters. From Humbolt he could expect nothing but death. But what of Ala? Would she listen and help him?

  “Do you know anyone in the Interstellar Materials hierarchy?” he asked. “Someone who might be able to petition Chairman Fremont for me?”

  “I don’t know any of the directors,” she said almost sadly, “but I know a few of the junior vice presidents.” A wicked twinkle came to her eye as she remembered getting to know them. “One of them will do anything I ask. I’m sure of i
t.”

  “Who is it?”

  “I can’t remember his name, but finding him once we get to GT 4 won’t be hard. I remember exactly where his office is.”

  “How did you meet this unknown junior vice president?” Kinsolving asked, even though he didn’t want to know the details.

  “A corporate party, some sort of celebration about planning for their two hundredth anniversary celebration. Something like that. He struck up a conversation with me and then I — ”

  Kinsolving yelped as Lark showed him.

  “You did that to him in public?”

  “No one noticed. We went to his office and continued. He was quite smitten with me. He offered me a job and everything.” Lark laughed at the memory. “He didn’t know that I could buy and sell him and a million secretaries. I almost offered him a job as my assistant, but I thought better of it. No need to rush into anything.”

  Kinsolving pushed himself free of the woman and her questing hands. The nav-computer had a vector computed for Gamma Tertius 4.

  But try as he might, Kinsolving couldn’t activate the hyperdrive engines. A single red indicator light flashed whenever he tried. He cursed the “idiot lights” and wished real readouts had been installed to give some clue about the malfunction.

  “You told me the lasers hadn’t damaged anything seriously,” Lark said. “Why aren’t we starring off for GT 4? You know how I hate to waste time when there are more fun things happening elsewhere.”

  “Let me see,” Kinsolving said wearily. He toggled the computer and studied the screen as line after line of instruction marched past his eyes. After an hour, he settled back in the chair, eyes strained and his neck muscles bunched. He hadn’t even noticed that Lark Versalles had left the cockpit and had now returned.

  “Well?” she demanded hotly. “Why isn’t this silly ship going anywhere?”

  “Safeguards have been built in, Lark,” he told her. “We’re going to have to make a shift of less than fifty light years to find a space dock that can repair the backup systems. We’re limited until we get the emergency rockets refueled and some of those damaged sensors — unimportant though they are — repaired.” He tapped out an inquiry and received an instant reply from the nav-computer.