They were waiting for me. A damper field had been set up, and as I entered it, my reflexes slowed to almost normal. I was still fast, and my strength hadn’t been diminished, but now the guards waiting for me could fire. I had one second to see the expression on the officer’s face as he ordered his men to fire. Out of reflex, I threw up my hands to cover my face as I heard the soft crackle of the lazes.
Nothing. I opened my eyes and stared. Nothing had happened. I should have gotten massive holes in my arms and head. The laze beams should have sliced through my skull like a hot wire through plastic. I gaped open mouthed as the officer yelled at his guards. They set their lazes to max and fired again. My right hand jerked up, dragged by the ring, and the beams were absorbed into the stone.
As the guards scrambled to their feet, frightened out of their minds, the ring grew red hot on my finger. I wanted to take the ring off and throw it away, it hurt so much. I could imagine the flesh blistering under the metal of the ring, but, just as suddenly, the ring grew cool. A soft swath of purple light flowed from the stone and bathed the corridor in front of me. All the guards, including the officer, fell to the floor. They all seemed to be smiling, and so I wasn’t worried that the ring had killed them. I had had enough killing to last me the rest of my life.
I walked up the corridor, still activated and still within the damper field. The generator was near the fallen officer, and after I turned it off, I felt much better. I didn’t have time to contemplate the miraculous powers of the ring, but I did have time to wonder at the race that had created the ring. What sort of super-race had they been? There was no clue, except a haunting feeling of closeness with something when I thought about Charcoal. I shook my head. I would think it out later. There would always be later. The ring seemed to assure me of that.
I rushed to the flitter. The altercation with the guards had delayed me even longer than I had thought. I rounded the corner near the flitter and saw Virzi was in deep trouble. There were at least a dozen guards firing at the flitter. Here and there, they had burned holes in the hull with their lazes. I hoped they hadn’t damaged the comp. It would be necessary if we were to escape. I ran up behind the guards and began to wreak havoc in their midst. Six went down before they realized I was near them. They all started swinging their lazes at me, and one of them sliced the back of my left hand before the ring could absorb the beams. Then, the violet light flowed again, and I de-activated.
Virzi was leaning against the doorframe of the flitter, a hole in his left leg, but not near the bone. The beam had cauterized the wound, so he wasn’t bleeding. The pain must have been enormous, and he collapsed in my arms when I got near him. I took him back in the flitter and strapped him down. I picked up his rifle and stood at the doorway, hoping Misth, the others, and Kohn would hurry up and get there. I was nervous.
I could think about the ring as I waited. Every now and then a guard would fire around the comer, and they were using barkers. The slugs whined as they skittered off the hull of the flitter, but a blast from the rifle kept them at a distance. They couldn’t get too close, and even though I knew the ring couldn’t do a thing against the slugs of a barker, I felt safe. The ring was an incredible artifact. I had to find out more about the people behind it. Perhaps on Charcoal, and if nothing there, perhaps in the records of FarAway, or maybe the Reegans could give me a clue. The race that had built the ring must have died out long ago, for such a race would have been contacted ages ago by the expanding colonizing efforts. The Spheres were filling up fast. Though I had heard rumors that the Fifth Sphere was somehow blocked from us. I didn’t know that for certain, but if it was, a race that was intelligent enough to create the ring I was wearing would be intelligent enough to block off a Sphere. I knew the Sixth and Seventh Spheres were already being explored by Central. My stomach grew cold with excitement and fear.
There was a loud disturbance coming from one of the far corridors, and the unmistakable sound of barker fire echoed down the hall. I ran to the pilot’s cabin and let the engines warm to life. I didn’t want to be caught when we were so close. Misth and his troops rounded the corner, and I smiled with relief as I saw Kohn was in the middle of their knot, holding a laze and firing at something. A barker sounded, and one of Misth’s men dropped, holding his throat. I could hear his gurgling sounds, and a few seconds later, the sickly odor of blood made me gag slightly.
Misth and his men came as fast as they could. They were very good and seemed to fight as a unit. They were obviously retreating, however, from a superior force. I waited, and fired several times at the far corner, hoping the laze would reflect enough to do some damage. I didn’t do much good, but I gave it my best.
Kohn and Misth and his men came up the doorway in a rush. I kept firing, and heard a scream as a squad of guards rounded the corner. They jumped back behind the cover of the corner as I opened fire on them, laying down a barrage of fire to cover Misth, Kohn, and the rest as they rushed in the flitter.
Misth muttered a thanks and got in the pilot’s seat. I sealed the door as soon as everyone got in their seats and buckled down. Kohn smiled weakly at me. I wondered what Heuser had done to him. I didn’t have time to find out. Misth was calling for me, and I ran into the pilot’s cabin.
‘‘You’re going to have to help,” he said. “One of the stabilizer’s controls have been shot. I can’t handle the manual override from here.”
“What a stupid design,” I muttered. Misth agreed, and we were off.
The ride out of the prison was a nightmare. The laze cannon seared off one of the stubby wings, and that made the flitter even more unstable. The wings were mainly for decoration, since the flitter flew by grav-sled drive, but they did help in stabilizing the thing. I had my hands full as Misth cranked the engine up as fast as it could go. There was a lot of muttering in the back of the flitter, and I caught the name of the dead man several times. I shook my head at the sheer stupidity of it all. All because Central wanted to cut in on some FUNN smuggler’s profits.
Misth cursed loudly after we’d left the prison a few miles behind. I asked what the problem was, and he told me the guards were sending out a flitter of their own, and were following as fast as they could. They couldn’t catch us, but they sure could follow. We were continually having to correct course direction since we were so unstable. A couple of times we had to slow down to almost hovering speeds while Misth corrected our course. I wished there was a way we could get in touch with DeMann. Unfortunately, the flitter didn’t have a radio.
Just as well, I guess. The prison flitter was on our tail all the way. From the way it was flying, it seemed as if it was going a little faster than most groundhog flitters I’d seen. I didn’t have time to glance at the monitors, but every now and then, when I had to change hands to give one of them a rest, I saw it was gaining. All the time gaining. I didn’t like that.
I didn’t think DeMann would like it when we landed and a gang of guards came swarming all over his land. I told Misth I thought we should land someplace else, and take on the flitter full of guards. He was adamant, however, that we had to return to DeMann’s. I guess he was following orders, which is a nice enough quality, but at times, it can be very stupid. It doesn’t leave much room for initiative.
The landing was a disaster. The wheels snapped beneath us as the manual override gave out a few feet from the ground. We started to roll, and Misth cut the drive, and we landed, hard. The flitter buckled in the middle, and I knew it could never be flown again. That worried me.
I assumed DeMann would have spares. I had this feeling he’d have to defend his fortress home. The prison flitter was no more than three minutes behind us. They knew where we’d come from.
We all scrambled out of the flitter as best we could, and Kohn and I shook hands and hugged. I was really glad to see him. I hadn’t realized how fond of him I’d become. I had missed him a lot. Misth led us quickly to the library. DeMann was sitting in his chair, a scowl creasing his thin face. He took one look at Ko
hn and me, then growled at Misth, “You’ve done it this time.” “Baeoge is dead,” Misth said in reply.
Demann paused for a moment, then shook his head. “I can’t waste time on that, right now. Those idiot guards have called for a full-scale attack here. I want you and Virzi to get Renate out of here and to the summer estate. I want maximum, red security alert at the estate, you understand?”
Misth nodded solemnly. His eyes watered, but I could tell he was getting himself under control. I wasn’t sure who this Baeoge was, but he seemed to have been a close friend to them all.
“And as for these two,” DeMann yelled, pointing at Kohn and me, “put them in with Jeften! Now!”
“But ...” I began. “What about . . . ?”
“Nothing matters now, you fool!” DeMann snapped at me. He shot to his feet and glared at me. I could tell from the way he stood he was used to looking down at people. But I’m pretty tall myself. He stared into my eyes. “We’re under siege! The past is cut off! I’ve got to salvage what I can!”
“I don’t think ...” I began again.
DeMann nodded to Misth, who quickly hit me on the side of the head with the steel butt of his pistol. I went down. Misth called to Virzi, and they dragged me out of the library. I knew Kohn was coming along, too.
I vaguely remember Kohn asking me if I was all right. I tried to get to my feet, and Misth, or Virzi, must have smashed me again. I went out.
13
Dark, undefined shapes chased me through a dimly lit corridor. I could hear their snorting, slobbering breaths, and their odor made me gag. I was confused and very lost. I couldn’t recall how I’d gotten in the corridor, or what sort of things were following me, pursuing me. I didn’t dare try to stop and confront them. I could barely see. Voices were ahead of me, leading me through the maze-like corridors of the dungeon. They were whispers, and the language seemed odd and foreign, but I understood most of it. As I ran through the corridor, I could feel the sinister, dark shapes come closer, and I turned to look over my shoulder. Something lurched closer, and as we passed sputtering torch, I got a glance at its face. I screamed. It was my face, horribly ravaged and pitted. There were scars and oozing wounds on the creature’s face, it couldn’t be my face. I screamed again as I ran toward the voices.
“Fripp! Wake up!” Kohn said. “Wake up!” He patted my cheek.
I opened my eyes. I could tell immediately we were in a cell of some sort. I was leaning against one of the walls, and Kohn was holding me straight, trying to get me to full consciousness. He swatted my face again. I groaned a little, and he smiled at me.
“Back with us again, eh?” he said with a grin.
I was glad to see him. I felt much better now that I knew Kohn was out of prison. I had been worried about him. He’s good at dealing with normal people, but he hasn’t really had that much experience with the idiots that seem to be in every police force. I got to my feet, though Kohn had to help me. I could see that Jeften was sitting on the bunk of the room. He was sitting cross-legged and looked at us with a bored expression on his face.
The cell was fairly small, about twenty feet deep and ten feet wide. It had a small sanitary cabinet, and the ceilings were eight feet tall. The door was locked and had no bars. It was like being inside a box, and I knew it would take some doing to get us out of that place. DeMann more than likely had made sure it could withstand all sorts of pressures if he had placed Jeften in it.
There was no furniture in the cell, except for the bunk Jeften was sitting upon. The floor was stone, one huge slab of gray stone. The walls were gray, also. There was a vague, sour smell to the air, and it came from the sanitary cabinet. I guessed it didn’t work too well. I walked quickly around the room, filling Kohn in with what had happened after we’d left him in the bar.
Kohn told me that after he awakened, Heuser and several other top ranking officials of the Central Security Agency had questioned him. They had quickly discovered Kohn didn’t know anything about the whereabouts of Renate. He now knew why. They had sent him to prison very quickly, and he had been in a security section of the place. He had been in a single cell, and had been served two meals.
I asked Kohn how long I’d been out, and he said not long. I examined the cell walls, and especially the door, as we talked. I finally decided it would have to be force that got us out of the box. One modified man couldn’t break down the door, but could two?
I explained it quickly to Jeften, and he seemed to think it was worth a try. He was very amiable to suggestions, I noted, and I guessed that whatever had happened in his skull was still in effect. I didn’t know if it was permanent nor not, but then, that wasn’t my concern. I had to get us out of that cell, and then we could deal with anything as it came up.
Jeften and I activated and attacked the door. I scratched it with my claws and could tell it was fused steel. It would take more than one hit to weaken the locks of the door. If we could weaken them enough, we could slide the door into its slot, I hoped. After ten minutes, I called for a break. We de-activated.
We sat on the floor and tried to rest. My shoulder was sore.
“Does it seem to be doing any good?” Kohn asked as we sat there. He sat on the bunk, out of our way. There wasn’t anything he could do to really help us.
“I don’t know,” I said truthfully. “I’m not sure what we’re doing, but we’re doing something to it.”
“The idea seems sound,” Jeften said between deep breaths.
I was breathing very heavily, too. We rested about twenty minutes, and began to try again. After five minutes, I could feel something different about the door. It seemed to rattle a little each time we hit it with our combined strength. I told Jeften to stop, and we slowly tried to shove the door back into its slot. I managed to get my claws on the edge of the door, and after that, it was fairly easy. The door slid back, but it did take both of us to move it. We let Kohn get out first, and then I let Jeften go through. As it started to close, I jumped free. I guess my hero mode was trying to get me killed.
“Now, what do we do?” Kohn asked.
Jeften and I de-activated, and I put on my boots.
“Good question,” I said. “We can’t take off in the Kraftwerk. But it seems to me it would be a good idea to get to the Strip. Maybe we can work a deal or something. We still have the cargo, I think.”
“It’s worth a try,” Kohn nodded. We both turned and faced Jeften.
“Don’t worry about me,” he said. He smiled at us. “I don’t want to go. I’ve got to get back to HQ.”
“Listen,” I warned him. “I think Central’s going to be sending its Troopers out here to force DeMann to sign that contract they want. If any of us are around where they hit, we’re going to be damn lucky to get out of this place alive.”
“Troopers!” Kohn muttered in disgust.
I could understand his fear. Troopers were fanatically loyal to Central, and if anyone or anything got in their way, that anyone or anything would be totally destroyed, if possible. We were on a world once where Troopers had been called in to quell a riot. It was on Forgetlt, during the attempted coup by General Ryos. I never want to see such a thing again. It was a slaughter.
The floor rocked under our feet, and several massive chunks of rock crashed down from the ceiling. I knew the Troopers must have had attacked. Jeften took off toward the door that led to the dome, but Kohn and I headed in the opposite direction. We didn’t want any part of the mess that was going on above. We didn’t know where the corridor led, but as long as it was away from the dome, we didn’t care.
We had gone about two hundred yards when another massive explosion hit. We were thrown to the floor and with a crack, the ceiling behind us caved in completely. It only took a matter of seconds before the entire corridor was blocked behind us with boulders the size of the flitter, and larger. It would have taken a laze cannon a week to blast its way through that mess.
I wondered what could be happening on the surface when we rounded a
corner and confronted them. It was a small group, only about six or seven of them, but they were Troopers and they didn’t seem to like our looks. They came at us fast.
“Don’t move!” the leader of the squad said. He made a gesture with his right hand, and rest of the men stood behind him.
They were wearing their body armor, and they looked like the old-fashioned robots of Terra’s Golden Age. The armor was functional, however, and they could withstand the direct blast of a neutron weapon and not even slow down. The leader had his visor up, so he didn’t look like a faceless, walking metal machine. The others of the troop did, however. I didn’t bother activating. Those suits are so well built, the moment I did, all they had to do was activate the attack mode on their suit comps, and I’d be dead.
The leader advanced to us, and holding his needle- laze on me, he slipped fused steel cuffs on both of us. He pointed in the other direction, and we walked on. He asked us if there were any others behind us, and we said no. He left a rear guard anyway. He wasn’t very trusting.
The corridor seemed endless, but finally, we reached a section that had an opening to the ground above. We stood still in the grav field, and floated up through the hole in the roof. Kohn and I had kept silent during the trek, and we weren’t about to speak now. If we met an officer, I’d let Kohn do the talking. He’s better at that than lam. I get very irritated around authority figures of any sort.
We were led briskly to a small green dome in the middle of one of the beautiful gardens I’d seen the first time I’d come up to see DeMann. The flowers were all trampled down and the grass all around the dome had been destroyed by the armored boots of the Troopers. I wondered who we’d meet this time, when we were led in. We sat on a small bench near the doorway of the dome as the general in charge gave a set of orders to a messenger.
He turned to us. He was wearing his body armor, but his helmet was off. It looked silly, but at least he seemed a bit more human than the man who had captured us. The general had a dark brown face and black hair. He seemed a bit grim as he walked toward us.
The Space Mavericks Page 15
