Spaceways - King Of The Slavers Part 12

"Faster," Swayn said, staring at the telits and screen with what they all knew was a d.a.m.ned good eye. He'd been at this business a long, long time. "They're coming up on us."

"s.p.a.ceship Hornet," the outship comm said. "This is Major T.J. Vreel, TransGalactic Watch. I'm very glad that I happened to be on Goshawk today, strictly as observer-instructor. I've just authorized Captain Khyrkh to pursue you outside Luhran s.p.a.ce and fire if you force us. You 'd best forget your cute plan of dodging around that station and laughing while this ship has 154.

to veer off. Give it up, or we fire the moment it's safe."

"Oh," Kimry said, with a barely perceptive tremor in her voice, and Swayn sounded as if he were completing a sentence: "s.h.i.t."

"Actually we have decided to suicide in the relay station, Major," Janja told her commsender, and keyed off again. d.a.m.n! Her mission and her ID were so secret that Ratran Yao, TGO, hadn't even let it out to the uniformed branch, TGW. And now. . . . She stared at her console while her crew stared at her.

"Cap-tainn.

"Of course not. Forget it. We're in it, now. I just said that to worry him. Maybe he will guideline' us to go our way, to save the station."

"Oh.""Not likely," Swayn murmured, his forehead furrowed as if in deep thought.

"True," Janja said. And isn't Rat going to be just delighted that I got myself caught by TGW on a local po-licer ship! It's either that or fire on them now, though -and I just can't do that. Janja, Janja-you may have a mutiny the instant you mention surrendering, too!

But what else is there?

Oh T.J. Vreel, are you ever going to be in trouble!

The trouble was that wasn't going to help her now, or her crew. On the microscreen, sec by sec and min by min, the geodesic sphere that was the CongCorp comm-relayer grew ever larger. Now it filled the screen and Janja stared at its pincushion appearance. That was the station's DS: spike-like proximity firing units. Janja wondered about the triggering range of that gunnery. Hardly satisfying, the ironic implications: if Hornet, after all this mad race with the pursuing local spooks, 155.

ended up being blasted to atoms by the station's fully automated defense system!

Beside her, Chan was begging to be allowed to man Hornet's DS. Behind her, Kimry actually sounded as if she was praying. And behind them all, Goshawk continued coming up fast.

Suddenly Swayn squatted beside the master's chair and uncharacteristically put a hand on Janja's arm- lightly. "Captain! Please! Let me have the con. The sta-tion'll start firing any moment, and I've got more experience at dodging than anyone onboard."

One last chance before I have to surrender and accept boarders? Janja sighed.

Abruptly she unbuckled and thrust herself up out of the master's chair, and to the side. She had said nothing; neither did Swayn, as he slid into the swivel chair. The spidering of his long bony fingers over the control keys was a thing of beauty. Unfortunately, Janja wasn't in the mood for esthetic appreciation just now.

"Captain! Hang on!"

"Uh." Janja pounced back to the little cabin's third chair, grasped a squeaking Kimry and forced her down onto her lap. Hurriedly she buckled them into the chair, an instant before Hornet went wild.

Next instant it was as if the ship had struck a double-layered cyprium wall. For some fraction of a second, the universe winked out; went utterly black. By the time Janja's brain considered clearing, her stomach hurt from the pressure of Kimry's body and the woman was moaning. So was Chan. Fleetingly Janja hoped that Kemah had got himself strapped down back there, wherever he was. Otherwise he was probably smeared all over a wall or two.

Swayn's face wore a warped, distorted look, as if too 156.

many Gs of pressure had stretched the skin and it hadn't yet had time to return to normal. Even the simulacrum had gone mad, and in color. Many colors writhed in a formless rushing swirl.

Simultaneously, and before she had oriented herself fully, a sensation of plummeting down through s.p.a.ce struck Janja. It hit so fast that her stomach seemed to be exploding through the roof of her mouth. She couldn't decide whether to die or vomit. From the sounds Kimry made, she would choose the former. Neither she nor Janja did either, simply because their reflexes couldn't catch up with what was happening.

"Boodha's slicin' b-" Chan began, but shut up because he had to bite back vomit. Hornet was executing a hard "rightward" swerve-and then dropping, jerking "leftward" . . .

Aglii's light, Janja thought, and I thought Quindy was wild at the con!

By pure reflex, in spite of it all, her eyes sought the microscanner. The picture had changed, again. Now only the lower arc of the relay station was visible against the ever-twinkling starscape of deep s.p.a.ce.

Janja blinked. In other words, she realized, the dropping sensation had not been imagination. Somehow, Swayn had sent them plunging "down," to pa.s.s "under" the relay station.

Clearly, too, it was a maneuver the LS patrol cruiser could not duplicate. The craft was pa.s.sing above them, lancing straight at the station. Then it was wrenching wildly, beginning a big sweeping arc to avoid it.

Again Swayn looked back at them, his face a picture of lunacy alive and breathing. "Hang on!" he yelled.

And again Hornet seemed to ram an irresistible wall, and vectored onto a new course. This time it raced "up" and forward, straight "up" at the patrol ship. Crushed 157.

into third chair and barely able to breathe because the same force was crushing Kimry down onto her, Janja clung to consciousness. With glazed eyes she stared at the scanner screen. Now she knew that she should never have agreed to let this manic Swayn take the con. He was going to slam them into the other ship in just seconds and she could only endure the nightmare.

Naturally Goshawk's captain saw the same onrushing doom. He warped into an insane parabolic curve barely in time to avoid being rammed. At that, he made a mistake. He arced the wrong way.

The maneuver threw him back on a crash course with the relay station. Thus he learned the distance allowed by the station's purely cybernetic proximity-firing units; he entered the perimeter programmed into them. Auto-gunnery sent molecular beams lancing out from the area perceived as threatened. The Luhran ship rocked under their impact. Yet its ma.s.s was too great and its velocity too high for the blasts to stop the hurtling ship.

At just under the speed of light, Goshawk smashed through the beams and the firing units' spikes, straight into the sphere that was the communications relay station.

Briefly, it blazed dazzling bright as a cosmic fireball, then imploded upon itself in a crumpling and disintegrating ma.s.s of metal-along with flesh and bone.

Swayn let out a triumphant yell even while his hands leaped here and there, zig-zagging over Hornet's console like the fingers of a maniacal synchordist. He was cutting thrust and swinging the s.p.a.cer in a long arc about the area of devastation. Chan cheered. A moment later Kimry shouted her jubilation, in a shaky voice.

Janja was silent, stricken with a writhing belly and a great lump in her throat. It was horrible-and just as awful was her knowledge that she could only thank and 158.

congratulate her expert ship-handler of a crewmember. For the murder of a policer ship and its entire complement! Act otherwise and she was worse than suspect as a slaver and outlaw captain . . . and trapped on a ship with four outlaws become her enemies.

She thanked and congratulated the grinning Swayn.

"Let's. .h.i.t that wrecked station! Boodha knows what we can s.n.a.t.c.h up-that's fine equipment, and a lot of it must have survived!"

"You're not thinking," Janja said (when what she wanted to say was "You callous fobby idiot!"). "It also has to have automatic alarms, and that ship must have been in contact with its base on Luhra, too. Or other ships or both. Oh no-what we do is get the flainin' h.e.l.l out of here!"

"Oh s.h.i.t, Cap'm-yer right. Sorry."

A few minutes later they found the other casualty. Uncertain as to whether Kemah had internal injuries in addition to three broken limbs and the gash, they put him in shipdoc while Hornet found a safe entry point and converted to tachyons. And again. Janja wanted to be a long, long way from Luhra.

14.

While her crew enjoyed planetside pleasures with their new pay, "Captain Jansanerima Dee" filed a report. Without naming her crew, she stated that she had been accosted by a ship called Kirin and was forced to destroy it. The Meccan representatives of officialdom laughed (all but the man over in the corner, who Janja a.s.sumed was a TGO agent or TGW officer out of uniform), when she told them of the weapon that had destroyed Kirin.

"You ought to get a medal," a wide-eyed woman said, swinging from her puterscreen. "That's-that was Shieda's ship!"

"d.a.m.n," someone said.

The Chief of Bureau affected not to be impressed. "That's about the silliest thing I ever heard of," he said, after his laughter had slid down to become a grin. "That weapon was about as useful as a slingshot! What ever possessed you to find one of those relics-and mount it in your ship?"

Janja stared at him with cold eyes. "Captain slaver-pirate Shieda, if that's who it was," she said, "doesn't think it was so silly-he doesn't think anything, anymore." That wiped the smirk off his face and, almost instantly for they were a dutiful lot of buroks, off the faces of his underlings. "As to the slingshot comparison ... have you ever heard of David and Goliat'?"

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160.

He had not, for few of these Galactics had applied themselves to study of their culture as she had; the outsider Aglayan "barbarian" their culture had enslaved. He was still frowning when the little s.e.xpot in her tight black-and-white outfit swaggered out. Her stopper's holster flap slapped against her well-molded hip.

She contacted Rat, gave him a report on both Shieda and the horror of the Luhran ship/relay station destruction, and listened to his recriminations. For a while. Then she interrupted with a nasal "Sorry, your time is up, Mouth," and keyed off the comm.

Kemahtejas had to put in some time in hospital. Janja secretly used her TGO code to cover whatever bill his care incurred, and made sure that he was not slighted. Then, because she was told he had babbled something about a CongCorp relay station while he lay doped up, she hurried to round ug the other three and get the h.e.l.l off Meccah.

Word got around, of course. A few days later she was in the Gotoh.e.l.l Bar with Kimry when a tall thin man slid into the booth's seat across from her. He grinned. Kimry smiled uncertainly, glancing at Janja. She gave him a Cap'm Jansa look.

"Don't believe I know you, Smiley. Do I look like an easy tryst?"

"You look like Captain Jansanerima Dee, who tangled with Shieda and sent him off to his doubtless honor-free ancestors and . . . who did something else we won't mention. And you talk the way I'd expected, too-Captain Jansa's got to be a real b.i.t.c.h."

Kimry took offense and showed it; Janja laid a hand on her arm, and laughed.

"You talk like a man who keeps his nose buried in newsviewers and other people's business," she said, wrapping her fingers around a pla.s.s that contained Bose.

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He shook his head. "Just ONS, on my ship. I'm Captain Uday Gopal. Call me Redhand, Captain Jansa. I wanted to meet you-share a drink. Got a crewmember over there who'd love to buy one for your crew here, too." He gave Kimry a friendly nod.

Again, she looked at Janja for direction. She continued indecisive, except in the matter of her hair. Janja hadn't got around to telling her yet that the Jarpskin-orange dye job looked even worse than her matching Thebanian strap-t.i.tser.

Janja said, "Why?"

He sat back, grinning and shaking his head. "Are you real, Captain Jansa? Did you really blast Kirin out of s.p.a.ce, Shiedaand all?"

This was a hard man not to like. Janja even liked his midnight blue Nehru shirt. And his smile.

"Not exactly," she said, and turned to Kimry. "Are you at all interested in joining Cap'm Redhand's crew-member, over there?"

"s.p.a.cefarer First," Redhand said. "Computrician and the very h.e.l.l with repairing anything. Anything."

"Sure," Kimry said, and departed. Janja watched her cross over and pause at the table Redhand had indicated. The man there actually stood, smiling. Janja smiled, nodded, and looked at Captain Uday Redhand Gopal.

"What we blasted Kirin out of was upper atmosphere. Shieda was in his lander when someone with him did something stupid with its gun. We turned the lander into a bomb."

He shook his head with a whimsical smile of approval to show that he was impressed. "Why do you say 'someone with him'?"

"Shieda wasn't that stupid. If that gun hadn't started swiveling our way I'd never have given the order to fire."

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"Uh. Guess you're right. He got away with a lot, that one. Oh-have a fizzler?"

"Come on, Redhand, don't insult me. I'll join you in a Terasaki Rain, though."

"Sorry," he said, smiling and nodding. He placed the order, giving his name and hers.

The two gla.s.ses-rather than pla.s.s because gla.s.s was a local industry-were brought by a cowed-looking girl or very young woman with a great deal of stringy hair, scarlet, and a single garment on her hips. It resembled a loose diaper. Probably a slave, rather than an employee. Less expensive than cyberservers, this far out from what they were pleased to call civilization, Janja thought.

She set one drink before Janja and the other in front of Gopal, who immediately seized it and lifted it to Janja.

"To you, scourge of CongCorp!" he said, and drained the gla.s.s. He pinched the girl, too. She winced without a sound. "I was thirsty," he laughed, boisterously. "Bring me another, and shake that fat tail!"

He slapped her half-bare and definitely non-fatty b.u.t.tock when she whirled to return for a second gla.s.s. She didn't even skip a step.

Grunjok, Janja thought Jorinnely. Sc.u.m. Sc.u.m, like all us pirates and slavers, and she lifted her gla.s.s.

Within nineteen seconds both she and Kimry were paralyzed from the eyes up, automatons. Kimry Captain Redhand's crewmember took away easily, for use. The automaton that had been Janja Captain Redhand ordered to leave with him. It did. It accompanied him to the taxi, to the port station, up to Allahstation One. He ordered it to climb that ramp, go into that cabin, and strip, and then he raped it before redshifting the station to convey her to his master.

15.

A false argument depends on the first false statement in it.

-Aristotle, Prior a.n.a.lytics Captain Jansa died six times in the psychoid chamber. Worse, Janja died, horribly, six times in that obscene device.

The first time it was under the lash. After the first twenty or so whistling, cracking strokes onto the writhing victim straining against her bonds, each one brought bright red droplets. Soon they were stringy claret-colored streamers, and then gobbets of flesh. She began to shriek. She continued to tear the awful cries from her throat until she was hoa.r.s.e and then too weak. After that her movements and her outcries ceased and she hung limp while the nasty slapping sounds of leather against broken flesh went on and on. At last, numbed beyond pain, she died . . .

... to return to life and consciousness unmarked and unharmed . . . but facing some sort of deep purple jungle cat with an unbelievably huge head all agleam with long tearing teeth through which issued its over-poweringly bad breath. Its slaver dripped between shining canines long as her forefingers. Its claws were nearly as long. She fought. The beast chewed her arm useless 163.

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and b.l.o.o.d.y and yet she could not lose consciousness or even go into shock as it went for a softer target. It ate her left breast and then her arm, beginning with the fingers so that she must listen to the crunching and popping of bones in the animal's mouth. At some point between elbow and shoulder she died from blood loss.

The third time an enormous serpent squeezed her to death. It was in no hurry about it. She was nearly dead when it began to swallow her. The fourth she had to lie there and watch the spiked ceiling descend. And then to feel the spikes enter her, one at a time and with unbearable slowness. Seconds seemed to stretch into hours until her lungs and heart and liver were pierced and she died.

Next Quindy and Trafalgar Cuw jettisoned her from a ship into s.p.a.ce. She noted that the ship was named Vettering. She wore no s.p.a.cesuit; she wore nothing at all. Her last thought in the airlock was to wonder what really happened in such situations: would she explode or implode or neither?

(She never found out. Whichever it was, it happened in a stretched moment of exquisite agony. / am dead, she forced into her mind. I am dead. I can not be killed again. Not again!) So she woke to be killed again. That sixth time she was carved, slowly, by a totally bald man whose face of consummate evil was enhanced by his obvious pleasure as he wielded that shining surgical knife-and his single eye behind the gleaming monocle. After her first cry when she felt the icy sting and looked down to see that the scalpel had drawn a red line that opened slowly to lay her open from sternum to nipple, she was silent save for her whimpers. Staring down at herself, watching the blood ooze and well and trickle or spurt, she was aware of her incongruous marveling that the pain began after 165.

the cuts were made. The actual incisions were no more than sharp stings.

Eventually she bled to death. Again.

Each time, she heard their questions and told them who she was and all she could think of about herself. The torture went on anyhow.