by B. V. Larson
“Move and countermove,” Straker said, nodding. “That’s the way war always works. New weapons and tactics bring new defenses, which in turn prompt new weapons and tactics.”
“That’s actually quite astute for a small-brained bony creature such as yourself.”
“Stuff it, Zaxby. There’s more than one kind of intelligence.”
“Why is it that I speak your language more precisely than you do?”
“Because you’re a smug anal-retentive uptight brainiac?”
“That is kind of you to say.”
“It wasn’t a compliment.”
“Too late. You lose.”
Tired of the one-upmanship, Engels broke in. “Would you lunatics focus on the task at hand? The Archer?”
Zaxby turned back to manipulating the sensor controls. “Of course, young female. Here, you see? Residual heat. It’s still in standby mode. I will try to access it. It will probably take some time. You may all go now.”
“Oh, we may go?” snapped Straker, reaching for Zaxby, who recoiled.
“Don’t let him get to you,” said Loco, grabbing Straker’s arm. “Come on, boss. Let him work.”
Straker shook off Loco’s hand. “Right. I’m sick of being cooped up here anyway. Let’s go exo.”
“Exo? You mean, like, in work suits?”
“Yeah.”
Loco crossed his arms, stubborn. “No way. Those things are unarmored and flimsy. A few layers of fabric between you and hard vacuum. One micrometeorite and you’re toast.”
Straker shoved Loco toward the bridge exit. “We’re inside an asteroid. Pretty sure there’s no micrometeorites to worry about. I want to look around.”
“How about we do this the smart way,” said Engels, following them. “Let’s take the gig.”
“The what?”
“The ship’s small boat. There’s only one on a corvette.”
“Now you’re talking,” said Loco. “Travel in style, with the lovely and talented Carly as my chauffeur.”
“You can always stay behind and play with Campos,” said Engels. “In fact, maybe I should have some girl talk with her about your more vulgar comments toward me.”
Loco held up his palms. “Whoa, okay. I surrender.”
Ten minutes later the three, plus Chief Gurung, boarded the six-place gig. The chief had invited himself along, saying, “I’d like to take a look at the outside of the Liberator, and also this new ship.” Somehow, word of the Ruxin ship had already spread among the crew, and Gurung always seemed to know everything going on aboard.
When Engels eased the craft out into the enormous interior space, she could see little except the corvette with its blazing lights, and the ship on which they were focused. The interior walls of the place, kilometers away, showed up on sensors only because of the reflected radar energy, but little detail could be discerned.
“Fly around the Ruxin vessel,” ordered Straker, gazing out the wide, wraparound crystal viewports.
Engels flew smoothly over on impellers and approached the bigger ship. “How many people do you think it will hold?” she asked, thinking about Straker’s need for troops and crew. If they ever engaged in any kind of… well, not piracy, but freebootery, they would need enough personnel to control any situation.
“No way to tell,” said Gurung. “But certainly all of us. More importantly, it is a Ruxin ship, yes?”
“Yeah, so?” said Straker.
Gurung said, “Then its internal atmosphere will likely be very wet. I am not well versed in aquatic races, so I do not know the details, but it will likely be rather inhospitable for humans, though we should be able to operate in suits for a time.”
“Damn, I hadn’t thought of that,” said Straker. “Maybe you can modify a part for human use.”
“For that, I would need a shipyard and a lot more skilled personnel than I have now,” said Gurung.
Engels saw Straker’s face grow thoughtful. She knew that look; he was adding to his plans, plans that he’d only dropped hints about, never explained. Maybe now would be a good time to press him. “What are you thinking, Derek?”
“I’m thinking we need more people, like the chief said.”
“And how are we going to get them?”
“That’s the trick, isn’t it?”
Engels let out an exasperated sigh. “Come on, Derek. Let us in on your thoughts. Commander’s intent, remember? Like they taught us at Academy?”
“Academy was just somewhere we got indoctrinated.”
“Maybe so, but the lessons were real. The Hundred Worlds wanted us to be the best officers we could be. Otherwise, why quote all that military history?”
Straker nodded. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right. Okay… look, I haven’t worked it all out yet, but like the chief said, we need skilled crews to man two ships, we need shipyard facilities, and we need troops.”
“To do what, though?” said Engels. “It’s all well and good to say we’re going to overthrow the Mutuality, but what’s the first step? We can hardly even consider taking on an organization the size of the Unmutuals, much less an empire. Right now that’s just a fantasy.”
Straker showed his teeth. “A fantasy we’re going to make reality.”
“How? Where do we get troops and crew?”
“I have a couple of ideas. Now let’s take a look at this secret weapon.”
Great, Engels thought, but it didn’t seem worth more arguing to get him to cough up his thoughts. Maybe tonight she could pillow-talk it out of him.
Up close, the Ruxin ship seemed even more inelegant, something cobbled together by the exigencies of war, yet well-built and robust. “It’s partially modular,” Engels pointed out. “Most of these externals look like they can be swapped around or replaced.”
“What are those tentacles?” asked Gurung, pointing at the protrusions at each end of the central spine. “Grabbers?”
“I don’t think so. They look more like antennae, if I had to guess.”
Gurung snapped his fingers. “I bet they’re the underspace field emitters. They resemble old-style sidespace emitters, before the technology was miniaturized and improved.”
“Seems pretty vulnerable,” said Loco. “Lose a couple and maybe you can’t make it back into underspace.”
“Stealth tech is generally fragile,” Straker said. “Looks like these ships are no different. They’re a bit like mechsuits. Not designed to trade heavy hits, but to dodge and weave and shoot from the flanks.”
“I’d really like to inspect the Liberator from outside,” said Gurung.
“Later, Chief, I promise,” said Straker. “Right now, I want to see the inside walls of this asteroid.”
“Why?” said Loco.
“This is a big place, right?”
“Yeah.”
“And there was a lock and a tunnel to get in, right?”
“Right.”
“Do you think this ship could have fit through the tunnel?”
Loco’s jaw dropped. “Guess not.”
“So how’d it get in?”
Engels snapped her fingers. “Underspace.”
“Right,” said Straker. “The crew knew this place was hollow, and Zaxby said it was of Ruxin construction. Would you build a camouflaged tunnel into it, if the asteroid’s only purpose were to serve as a refuge for this ship? Ruxin ships don’t need tunnels.”
“I see what you’re getting at,” said Engels.
“I don’t,” said Loco.
“Watch.” Engels turned the nose of the gig toward the nearest wall and accelerated. She switched on the floodlights and directed the navigational radar forward. In a few minutes, they approached the inward-curving interior wall of the asteroid.
“Yes!” whooped Straker. “My guess was right. This place isn’t only a hiding place; it’s a secret base, and now it’s ours!”
Revealed in their floodlights, Engels could see facilities dotting the inner wall of the hollow asteroid. She recognized buildi
ngs and structures that, despite their alien origin, shared clear function with shipyards she had seen. In fact, there seemed to be dozens, perhaps hundreds, of small freighters, of a size to easily enter and leave via the tunnel, docked in rows.
“Why the hell would they abandon a place like this?”
“Are we sure they have?” said Loco.
As though he were a prophet, the entire interior of the asteroid came alive with a watery green glow. Beam emplacements, small by warship standards but easily large enough to blow the gig apart, swiveled and aimed directly at them.
Chapter 31
The Ruxin compound.
“Crap,” said Loco as he stared at the devices of death pointed at the gig by the newly discovered base facilities.
“I’m getting us out of here,” said Engels.
“Wait!” Straker snapped. “If they wanted us dead, they would have opened fire. Maybe it’s an automated alert. We don’t want to trigger its attack sequence.”
“You think it’s a machine response?” Engels asked.
“Is anyone trying to contact us?” Straker demanded.
Loco pointed at a flashing icon on one screen. “Comlink laser, unknown protocol.”
Engels brought it up. “Running it through the processor.”
A moment later, they heard an odd, burbling sound coming from the speakers.
“Dammit, what is that?” said Straker.
“Probably Ruxin, since we’re in a Ruxin base.” She tapped a screen. “Zaxby, you there?”
“Yes, I…Great Mother! I hear Ruxin! Patch it through to me, now!”
“Roger. Patching now.”
“Keep us in the comlink, Zaxby,” Straker ordered. “Give us a running translation if you can. Is it a machine or a real Ruxin?”
“It is the Ruxin commander… she asks who we are and what our intentions are… I am explaining… she wishes to meet with us immediately.”
“Immediately?” Straker’s suspicions flared. “Are you certain this isn’t a trap?”
“I am in no way certain,” Zaxby said, “but her response seems genuine and rational. And, might I point out, if it is a trap, we’re all screwed anyway, in your vernacular.”
Straker realized Zaxby was right. “Okay. Where and when?”
As if in response, a boat much larger than the gig launched from the surface and flew past, heading toward the center of the base where the two ships floated. “She says to follow. As a gesture of good faith, we will meet aboard the Archer.”
“Why is it a gesture of good faith to meet on their ship?” asked Loco.
“Because both sides can have their weapons pointed at it,” Straker replied. “In fact, go to battle stations and train the Liberator’s guns on the Archer.”
“Done, though you will note, all officers but I are away from the Liberator,” said Zaxby. “Chief Gurung is too. I must come act as your liaison, so who shall command?”
“Okay, lesson learned,” said Straker. “Tell Heiser he’s in charge and to do the best he can.”
“Aye aye, Captain. Lieutenant Engels, please provide me with transport,” said Zaxby. “I would very much like to enjoy a Ruxin environment, and translation will be much easier in person.”
“Oh?” Engels said. “Now it’s Lieutenant Engels instead of ‘Straker’s female,’ huh?”
“You’re acting in your official capacity as a pilot, correct?” Zaxby replied.
Loco put his hand on Engels’ shoulder. “You can’t win with his kind of logic. He’ll always have a rationalization.”
“I thought he was my friend.”
“He is. Think of him as a socially inept brainiac rather than as an equal, and you’ll do better.”
“Good point.” Engels swung the nose of the gig to follow the Ruxin boat toward the Archer and toward Liberator, where Zaxby awaited.
* * *
When the humans stepped aboard the secretive Ruxin vessel, they had no idea what they’d find. The answer turned out to be both stranger and more ordinary than they’d imagined.
The air was saturated with moisture, but breathable, like a cool steambath. The deck of the room they stepped onto was awash, knee-deep in water.
The lip of the pressure doors rose to knee height, confining the sloshing liquid, more or less, in the chamber, even if the portal stood open. Of course, everything was outfitted for Ruxin use, with few sharp angles. What passed for chairs looked more like lumpy cupped stools. A greenish glow permeated everything, giving it all the feeling of being in an aquatic environment—which it was.
“Should we seal up?” asked Loco.
Straker sniffed the air. “No, leave our faceplates open. The atmo is good, and I don’t think Ruxins and humans can share diseases.”
Zaxby pushed past the humans, using his amazing rubbery flexibility to flow between them. He wallowed in the liquid, and then stripped out of his beat-up and heavily patched old water suit. “That’s so much better. You’re correct, Captain. Our two species generally do not have diseases in common.”
“Good.” Straker looked around. “I thought your ships would be filled with water, top to bottom.”
“You forget we’re amphibious, not deep dwellers like our ancestors. We’re able to survive in a wide range of environments and utilize the variable advantages of all of them. For example, it’s better to flood spaces subject to fire danger, but fill others with air to mitigate shock transmission. Also—”
“Yeah, yeah, all very interesting,” Straker said. “Someone’s coming.”
The Ruxin boat had docked at a different airlock—water-lock?—and Straker wondered what he’d see. Zaxby had called the commander “she.” Would a female Ruxin look any different?
The answer wasn’t long in coming. A purplish octopoid twice the size of Zaxby swept into the room and plopped itself—herself?—into a chair at the end of what could be interpreted as a table. She waved her tentacles and blatted a noise sounding like a cross between a badly blown trombone and a drunk’s beer belch.
Zaxby translated. “This is Freenix, a Ruxin Premier—at least I think that’s the closest Earthan word to use. Premier Freenix greets you and asks what the hell is going on. Tell her, now, immediately.”
“Immediately, huh?” said Straker, frowning. “I’m not one of her officers. She doesn’t give me orders.”
“I suppose I need to insert the proper words of etiquette in order to minimize offense,” Zaxby sighed. “My people are direct and not given to tact. As I think I mentioned, I am quite diplomatic for one of my race. However, she would like an answer.”
“Direct and tactless, eh? I can do that. Tell her we want her Archer, immediately.”
“She asks why?”
“To hurt the Mutuality. To eventually overthrow it.”
Premier Freenix shook and made even odder sounds, and Straker realized the octopoid was laughing.
“Just because she’s chickenshit doesn’t mean we are,” he said.
“She is amused by the unlikeliness of your goal of overthrowing a thousand-world empire. She also refutes your allegation of cowardice, pointing out that she has many Ruxin lives to consider.”
“Many?” Straker leaned forward, placing his hands on the wet tabletop. “How many?”
“More than three million.”
Straker’s jaw dropped. “How long have you been living here?”
“More than eighty years. The original base personnel have reproduced.”
Engels held up a hand. “How long before this base is overpopulated?”
A pause ensued as the two creatures spoke.
“It’s overpopulated now,” Zaxby said at last, “in terms of resource limits.”
Straker nodded thanks at Engels. “So there you are. If you don’t do something, you’ll just have different problems.”
“We are doing something. You saw the many small ships we’ve built. We’re preparing to colonize the other asteroids and abandoned bases in this nebula.”
“T
hen you won’t need an Archer,” Straker pointed out. “We’ll also take a shipload of your people off your hands as crew, if you agree.”
“This creates a risk of discovery and removes our only defensive warship. What do I get in return?”
“Intel on what’s been going on over recent decades. Our goodwill. The morale-building knowledge that you’re striking back against the people who conquered your homeworld. We can also try to seize any vital materials you need to expand here in the nebula. We’ll hit and run and come back. We will be your eyes and ears. If necessary, Zaxby can captain the Ruxin ship, as long as I’m in overall command.”
Zaxby broke off in mid-translation, and Freenix stared at him, waiting.
“What?” Straker asked.
“I do not wish to—”
“Dammit, Zaxby, just translate it like I said,” snarled Straker, tired of the Ruxin’s slippery ways.
“Very well.” Zaxby lowered his head, spoke in his language and then paused.
Freenix began laughing again, and Zaxby looked downcast as he translated in a near-whisper. “Don’t be ridiculous. This neuter cannot command a nursery, much less a ship of war. For that, you must have a War Male. We have none.”
Straker stared at Zaxby, remembering he was technically an it. Why did they care so much about what gender Zaxby was? But apparently they did, and they wanted a “War Male,” whatever that was, so…
“I am a human War Male, a veteran of many campaigns,” Straker said loudly, lifting his hands and spreading them wide, trying to convey a sense of power. “I will command the vessel if you will supply a crew sworn to my service, Premier Freenix.”
“Sworn to your service? You want them to swear allegiance to you? Will you then swear allegiance to me, Captain Straker?”
“Absolutely not. I’m in complete charge of my own command. We’ll be equals, as allies.”
Freenix stared at Straker. “This seems like an inequitable proposition.”
“If you mean unfair, then I disagree. You’re giving me a ship you don’t really care about with a crew of people you have too many of. In return, I’m giving you priceless information, the chance to acquire goods there’s no other way to get, and the joy of hitting back at the enemy who did this to you. Oh, and in the long run, the possibility of liberating Ruxin. If anything, it’s extremely unfair in your favor.”
