Colin Kapp - The Ion War Page 15

  "Are you a colonial, too?"

  "From Castalia, like yourself. Why else do you think you were sent to help me?"

  "Sent . . .?" Dam traced his way through the threads of circumstance that had placed him in this situation€”and emerged still baffled.

  "You were hand-picked for this project, Lover. Almost reared for it, I'd say. Guess father hasn't lost his touch in judging men."

  "Who is your father?"

  "Senator Anrouse. Do you know him?"

  "I've met him but once, though I'm told he had a great influence on my career."

  "The old fox sitting in the background pulling strings. He's a very dedicated man."

  "He'd need to be to allow his daughter to do what you've been doing."

  There was the sudden sound of someone opening the doors of the craft lock, and the noise of heavy football moving down the catwalks to the paraformer craft on the ramp. Absolute searched wildly.

  "They're already too suspicious. They mustn't find me here." She was looking for a place in which to hide, but there was no possible point of concealment except for the top of the paraforming coils, and no time for her to insinuate herself into the narrow recess from which Dam had emerged.

  Dam came to a sudden decision. "If we can't conceal your location, at least we can disguise the interest."

  "What . . .?"

  By way of answer he scooped her up in a long, passionate, embrace, to which, after her initial surprise, she yielded with an enthusiasm not entirely the product of the urgency of the situation. Behind Dam the door-lock opened and the footsteps entered, faltered, then retreated, betraying a slight buoyancy, as if the walker was amused. By now Dam was again conscious of the slight texture of the metal mesh beneath her flesh, but this time it added a piquancy which heightened rather than repelled his interest. They were manifestly two of a kind, and already shared a bond more common than most couples could know. It was a long time before the communion was finally broken.

  "Who was that who came in?" asked Dam at last.

  "Dug Rette, ship's security officer. He's the one responsible for handing me over to the authorities on Terra."

  "Did we fool him?"

  "We weren't fooling anyone, Lover. That was for real! When I chose your call-name, I was smarter than I knew."

  "Speaking of call names, what's your own name, Absolute?"

  "You'll not believe this, but Absolute Anrouse was what I was christened." She re-buttoned her tunic and turned away with new purpose, heading towards the cupboard in which the pulse units were stored. Taking one out, she examined it, then gave her head a quick shake of alarm.

  "What's the matter?" Dam asked.

  She pointed to a detail on the instrument too small for Dam to be able to discern from a distance, then pressed a test button and waited for the tell-tale to glow. It remained dark. With speculative agitation, she operated the paraforming control itself, and waited with anxious breath. The hoped-for transformation into the para-ion state did not occur. With a rising tide of concern she flung the pulse unit back into the cupboard, and selected another and then another as each one failed.

  "The bastards!" Her face was full of angry shock. "They've anticipated us. Sabotaged the whole damn lot."

  "Mine still works," said Dam. "At least, it did."

  "When did you take it?"

  "Well before we went down on Syman."

  "That's it then! The units we actually used on Syman, and all the remaining spares, have since been tampered with. The one they missed was the one you'd already taken."

  "Can't it be used for both of us?"

  "Not without a major re-wire. They're specifically tuned to the modulator implants."

  "Does that mean we can't fight our way out?"

  "I can't. You must. For God's sake you've to make the best of any break you can get."

  "Even if it means leaving you behind?"

  "Lover, if I can't escape, your remaining alongside isn't going to do any good for either of us. You've to try and make it back to Liam Liam. Show him what the next phase of para-ion warfare is liable to be like, because his old tactics won't stand a snowflake's chance in hell. You carry the future of the Hub underneath your skin. Whatever it costs, get back to the Hub alive."

  "I don't see why we didn't go with Liam Liam when we met on Syman," said Dam bitterly.

  "There was no way. If we'd not been there to stop those commandos in the shaft, not even Liam could have got away. We'd all be making our tiny contribution to that nova. It's that sort of a bloody war."

  CHAPTER XXIII

  The exercise during the Lightning campaign in which Liam's communications ship had been inserted in the Terran FTL radio link had been useful in many ways. One advantage had been the on-line computer access to the message codes, from which a great deal of cipher information had been extracted. Although now remaining in a passive role out in deep-space, the same ship was still engaged in monitoring Terran operational transmissions, and feeding the pith of this intelligence back to base and to the radio-room of the Starbucket.

  It was information gained in this way which creased Liam's brow when he finally rejoined his old vessel. From the sector commander responsible for the campaign against Syman had gone a series of messages to Terran Intelligence questioning the integrity of a Major Absolute of Para-ion Technological Operations. The replies were not encouraging. Her superior, code-named Abel, had apparently long been suspicious of her motivation, and the final instruction was to arrange for her arrest and interrogation.

  The fate of a single individual was not normally something to cause Liam Liam very much concern: the sacrifices of war had already involved the loss of whole planets and populations€”but the value of the information which this one individual was known to carry made her of the greatest tactical importance. Having no light cruisers available, Liam decided that the Starbucket itself should shadow the mother ship as it sped on its way towards Terra. This could only safely be achieved from a distance which lay at the extreme end of their instrument range, and the venture became further complicated and hazardous when they entered the regions dominated by the great Terran ship chains.

  The Starbucket passed the first chain without detection, but its second encounter could conceivably have been fatal. They had entered unknowingly inside the weapon-range of a large man-of-war which had been keeping careful station shielded against detection by the radiation barrage of a particularly vociferous sun. Before the Starbucket had time to turn and run, the man-of-war had detected the little ship's coming and was engaged in carving a furious intercept course. Once clear of the radio emanations from the sun it began demanding the newcomer's identity. Euken Tor bravely used his knowledge of Terran identification codes in an attempt to talk their way through; but the bluff failed, and for a few tense moments it looked as though an armed showdown was inevitable.

  Warily, Liam summed the size and armaments of their massive opponent. He decided that the Starbucket's special weaponry was probably capable of taking the man-of-war out of space. However, the removal of one ship could only trigger the rest of the chain into action, and there was no way the little ship could protect itself against a battlefleet. Their sudden hope of salvation came from something else he noticed as the vengeful ship swum in front of his high-resolution scanner€”and that was the coloured pennant-bands on the front antenna. To the amazement of his deck officers, Liam flung out a sudden oath and raced for the communications handset.

  "Calendaria ahoy! You're a tithe-loan vessel out of Ross unless I miss my guess. We're also from the Hub."

  "What of it?" The answering voice sounded harsh and metallic over the speakers.

  "This is the Starbucket€”an action-ship of Liam's war, on a mission of importance to all our futures, you understand?"

  Everyone on the Starbucket's bridge who heard the message flinched visibly, and waited for the space-barrage to open up. The master-gunner's knuckles showed white as they gripped the safety trigger of his weapon contr
ols. There was a long period of agonized silence, then a different voice came through on the radio.

  "Greetings, Liam Liam! It's a dangerous game you play."

  "Not more dangerous than living on one of Terra's target worlds, you understand?"

  "Point taken! We didn't see you come or go. Keep your data-links open, and we'll try to give you headings to avoid the rest of the local ship chains. Bon voyage!"

  As the Starbucket's engines strained to regain their lost velocity, Euken Tor mopped his brow. "You took one hell of a gamble there, Liam! That ship could easily have had a Terran crew, or at least a Terran master."

  "Then I promise you we'd not have gone out of space alone. But believe me, a Terran commander always had his own colour bands on the antenna. It's a matter of prestige, you understand?"

  Liam was now concentrating on the fleeting traces at the extreme edge of the scanning range, which was all the evidence they had about the passage of the paraformer mother-ship. Urging the last ounce of resolution from the scanner, he noted with some satisfaction that the carrier's course was being diverted to take it through one of the permitted movement channels. Liam estimated that if he could take advantage of the diversion and manage to carve a straight course through the waiting patrols, they had a good chance of achieving a position from which to operate the daring plan forming in his mind.

  Euken Tor whistled incredulously at the proposal, then, seeing the look on Liam's face, gave instructions for the necessary preparations. He himself analyzed the data-link information supplied by the Calendaria, and used it to map out a projected tachyon-space trajectory which held only a statistically small chance of their being intercepted by the random Terran patrols.

  Liam Liam became busy in other ways. He was studying a manual of space-traffic regulations, signal responses, and orbital transfer routines relating to the Solar system, whilst at the same time repolishing both the style and the brass stars of a supposed sector commander called Mail, whose whereabouts had been the subject of much conjecture since the end of the Lightning campaign. With the laws of probability aided by many impious prayers and a minimum-radiation mode of flight, the little Star-bucket seemed to have a charmed existence, as it picked its way through the remainder of the ship-chains without challenge, and incredibly avoided even the random scans of the tachyon-space patrols. Then, slightly amazed by their own audacity, they found themselves suddenly amidst the bewildering cluster of spacecraft on the fringes of the Solar system itself.

  It was a piece of sheer bravado which merited its own reward. Had it been detected inflight in a deep-space location, the presence of the Starbucket would have raised instant suspicion and challenge: its apparently casual and innocent insertion into the circulating ships awaiting permission to enter the Solar transfer orbits, however, provoked no such concern. Euken Tor made the customary responses to the Solar Traffic control, claiming the ship was on an Intelligence liaison mission, and was automatically granted permission to remain in an outer station. Since they had not signalled a request to enter the transfer orbits, Euken was taking a gamble that their claimed identity would not be processed through the usual data channels and its bogus nature deduced by the refusal of some destination port to accept a request for planetfall.

  Nonetheless, their position still contained the very real danger that some other information network was already striving to match their identity against an entry on authorized shipping lists, and when no match was found there would arise the inevitable string of queries. Failure to find satisfactory answers to a further interrogation would invite the attention of armed patrol ships and the near-certainty of being destroyed by the immense fire-power which could be brought to bear in their direction. Euken Tor sat at his control desk on the Starbucket's bridge and sweated, whilst Liam Liam scanned the space approaches for the first signs of the coming of the paraformer carrier which he intended to intercept. They estimated they had beaten the mother ship to its destination by about eighteen hours€”which was a small margin by space travel standards, but a long time to sit under Terran guns while high-speed data processing and instant communications might at any moment reveal the clandestine nature of their presence. As Euken said, they were stretching the upper limit of their luck to its upper limit.

  As it happened, the challenge to their identification codes and the sighting of the mother-ship were almost simultaneous. Euken contrived to keep the situation confused by re-issuing his original answers with a few of their figures transposed, while at the same time bringing the Starbucket round to match trajectories with the approaching ship. By the time the revised identity signals had been rejected, the Starbucket was well out of the traffic lanes and had the mother-ship clear on its screens.

  Liam Liam, in the pose of Security Commander Mail, was already speaking dictatorially over the radio to the ship's captain and its security officer.

  "This order overrides those you've previously received, you understand? Prepare yourself for boarding, and have the prisoner known as Absolute available for transfer to my custody."

  "I still insist that we have not received the requisite clearance." The carrier captain's voice sounded extremely unhappy.

  "Clearance!" Liam's voice worked itself up to a passable imitation of incensed megalomania. "I decide what clearances are issued and to whom. I'd advise you not to throw bureaucratic obstruction in my way, Captain, else I can make life very uncomfortable for you, you understand?"

  "I understand." The captain's voice sounded suitably subdued. "We are preparing to receive your boarding party. Please proceed in your own time."

  Liam Liam would have preferred to have taken the majority of his ship's company and stormed the carrier, but the Starbucket's little pinnace could accommodate nine people at most, and thus he had to be content with six shipmen dressed in Terran service coveralls, ostensibly to serve as an armed escort for the prisoner. While he had hopes that bluff would suffice he knew that he must be prepared to fight his way out if necessary. Thus, in addition, to their obvious arms, each of his men was provided with a number of concealed weapons, including sufficient knock-out gas to overwhelm the entire crew of the carrier. Several open radio links with the Starbucket were arranged so that a listening watch could be established and a rescue operation mounted if things went wrong.

  As the pinnace approached the space transfer hatch of the mother-ship, Security Commander Mail thrust his way impatiently through the opening space-lock to meet the captain and officers who were awaiting his entry. The woman called Absolute had been held handcuffed and in leg irons in a cell, and was now being brought down a corridor by armed crewmen. Her look of recognition on seeing Liam was instantly quenched as she realized the nature of the deception he was playing, but although she did not speak, Liam could sense a great deal of genuine unease in her manner. Where he should have read quiet hope in her eyes, he read instead the imminence of an uncertain catastrophe.

  By means of a pre-arranged hand signal, Liam brought to his escort an awareness that something was amiss, and a secret codeword over the open radio link similarly alerted the crew of the Starbucket. Meanwhile Liam, who could yet detect no cause for alarm save for the suppressed distress in Absolute's expression, was concerning himself with browbeating the captain and his security officer in a manner he imagined was in the best traditions of the Terran Security Service. He was on the point of securing an abject apology when a sudden disturbance broke out somewhere on the ship, and the whiperack of an electron pistol on full beam echoed loud through the corridors.

  Inexplicably, the mother-ship's captain and his officers seemed as perplexed as was Liam, and some of the officers hurried off to investigate. The object of their concern, however, was already running towards them in the shape of a lone warrior in para-ion state, intent on killing anyone who threatened to stand between him and the space-lock. Liam recognized the figure as being the one who had been Absolute's companion on Syman. Unfortunately, being pinned down as he was by electron fire, there w
as no way in which Liam could communicate his good intentions. Instead, one of Liam's men, with a tactical mistake pardonable in the heat of the moment, attempted to stop the approaching runner with a knockout gas capsule. The gas had no effect at all on the para-ion figure, but everyone else was.

  As Liam fought against the tide of blackness he saw the para-ion warrior stop before the form of the unconscious Absolute and attempt to drag her towards the space-lock. Far down a corridor behind him, and as yet unaffected by the gas, one of the mother-ship's officers opened fire with an electron carbine, the fire from which seriously endangered everyone on the deck and threatened to render the door of the space-lock inoperable. Seeing this latter possibility, the para-ion figure reluctantly abandoned his attempt to carry Absolute with him, and fled into the lock, closing it behind him. Then, with his last thread of consciousness departing, Liam heard the engines of the Starbucket's pinnace strike a mighty reactive blow against the carrier's hull as the minute craft and its lone occupant departed into space.

  CHAPTER XXIV

  Although he had been prepared to fight Dam found the pinnace unoccupied and its engines already primed, as though a fast departure had been intended. This circumstance greatly speeded him on his way. Dropping back from his para-ion to normal molecular identity, he seized the controls and gunned the little vessel away from the great hull of the carrier. He immediately came under fire from another vessel close-by, and found the only escape route open to him was to manoeuvre the pinnace in a tight turn that brought the carrier's bulk between himself and the guns being deployed against him. Then, carefully aligning his craft to remain behind the carrier's shielding mass, he turned the pinnace again, and headed straight out into space.