Читать книгу South of the Ecliptic - Donald Ph.D. Ladew - Страница 6

A week passed. Piehl had forgotten the King's birthday ball. There were more immediate problems, like eating and paying dock fees. They hadn't turned up anything in the way of a job, not even a lead.

Regent's planet wasn't some rogue's lair out on the Rim where rules were non-existent and things could be “worked out” with the port authorities. If it hadn't been one of the best places to get cargo, they would have left years before.

Flex left the ship earlier in the morning to check on something. Piehl was still aboard overhauling the portside gyro. When Flex buzzed, Piehl was sitting amidst a pile of parts, systematically going over each assembly with a tester, trying to find out why the damn thing insisted they fly upside down at the odd moment.

Piehl was whimsical, but trying to land a twenty thousand ton merchant inverted went far beyond whimsy.

The Comm system buzzed again and Piehl flipped it to receive.

"Captain, I have something in the way of business. How soon can you get to the Outworlds Bar?" He sounded excited.

"Thirty minutes, Flex. I'm sitting in a pile of what use to be the port gyro. Now I know why they have electro-techs in the service. This stuff is too damned complex for a simple-minded ex-general. It's going to take me a while to get the damn thing back together."

"Right, Captain. As soon as you can, I think we have a possible job."

Piehl left the ship a half hour later and made the mistake of looking back. Poor old Goddard was a wreck. They bought her third hand three hard years earlier.

The old Gordon Carry-All's weren't that great to start with. There wasn't one square centimeter of surface unscarred, and the replacement plates made it look like a badly designed chess board. Two hundred and fifty meters long, she was shaped like a ugly torus; with a hundred meter cylindrical drive unit on one end, the old girl was bone ugly.

Piehl sighed. Nothing to be done about it.

He made his way through the hurly-burly of the port towards the Outworlds Bar. He and Flex used it as an unofficial office. When Piehl reached the bar, Flex was sitting slouched in one of the relaxors sipping spiced coffee.

Piehl noticed an old ex-Imperial marine crashed out on a bench in the back. He knew him; they had shared a mug from time to time. He was a good man come on hard times. The owner, an ex-legionnaire, was off somewhere on his own business.

Flex smiled. "Morning, sir. Coffee's fresh."

"Don't get up, “Ensign”. You shouldn't trouble yourself to get a cup for your captain," Piehl said sarcastically.

"Oh, good, sir. I'm feeling mellow this morning. Her grace, Lady Jane Esterlys was most solicitous of my health and well-being when she discovered I was put in prison by the nasty old Imperial Navy."

"Really? Now how did she find that out, Flight Major?" Piehl had a look of wry amusement on his face.

"Oh, I told her of course. However I forgot to tell her I got out three years ago, and somehow she got the impression I was only just released and that I must therefore be feeling the pangs of confinement. She was most kind and tender regarding my...well being," Flex sighed.

"Flex, you are without conscience. Why these women find you worth their time I will never know."

"Captain, begging your pardon, you really should pay more attention to the ladies. You've promoted and demoted me so many times during the past seven years I worry the lack of feminine contact is causing you cell damage."

Piehl chuckled and threw the bar rag at him. Flex ducked and easily picked it out of the air.

"Listen, Private Holtzman, we'd better forget the problems of the flesh and figure how we're going to pay the docking fees. You called me with what sounded like a possible contract."

Piehl took a seat in a relaxor and waited for Flex to tell him what was going on.

"Captain, would you be willing to take a contract beyond the frontier, in the Dark Worlds?"

"Damn, Flex, you know how I feel about that. We aren't set up for that kind of action. Those people are renegades. Try to remember we've no armament on the Goddard at all."

"Sure, Captain, sure. I know how you feel. I don't want to go anywhere near the rim."

Piehl worried when Flex agreed with him.

"Captain, I wouldn't give it a thought, except we've been offered 25,000 prime credits to escort an important personage out that way...and the use of an armed Gideon Class Merchant for the trip. They'll also put up credit to fill the holds with whatever we might want for trade when we get there."

" Did you say 25,000 prime credits!"

Great Gods, Piehl thought, we'd be out of debt with credits to spare. Oh! Oh! Here I go, one minute filled with resolve, the next a slavering enthusiast, ready for the lure. Piehl knew he should tell Flex to forget it, but those credits completely numbed his brain. So be reasonable, Aubrey, Piehl said to himself. You can listen, right? Can't hurt to listen. You don't have to do anything.

Flex smiled and said nothing. Piehl couldn't stand it.

"So, who would we have to take out there? Is it legal? No, strike that. Is it political?" Piehl learned a long time ago that political can get your days shortened a lot quicker than illegal. Finally he ran out of questions.

"Look, Captain, you don't want to go, it's okay. Something will turn up before Firstday."

"Huh? What's with Firstday?" he asked.

"Oh, that's when our credit runs out, and the docking fees are due."

"That soon? I thought we had more time."

"Nope, afraid not," Flex said with a doleful look. "They're going to stick us on Work List Zero."

The hook was firmly embedded. Piehl gave in to curiosity. "You'd better tell me about it." The Dark; bad dreams. Oh well, better than cleaning sewers beneath the Rockpile, as Central City was fondly called. Piehl was not happy.

"Okay," said Flex. "It's not a big deal, we fix up a nice space for the girl..."

"Girl!" Piehl groaned. "What girl? Not on a ship, Flex, you have got to quit drinking that five minum slop, it's turning your brain to mud."

Flex went on totally unmoved by Piehl's ranting. "The girl and her companions..."

"Companions! Great. What the hell, it gets dull on those long runs anyway."

Flex waited patiently for Piehl to run down then went on as though nothing had happened. "Well, there's always Central City's great cloaca, which I'm told an army of ten thousand couldn't clean in a year."

Piehl was still grumbling. "I always knew there was a lot of crap in this world."

Flex laughed. "Well if we don't get off the pot, so to speak, we're going to get to look at it up close."

Flex waited a moment. "Please listen, Captain. There's the girl, her companion, and an Imperial Sufic Warrior as guard. Her uncle is Viceroy of the Beyond The Rim Hegemony. She's being sent there to cool off after some foolishness she got up to with a captain in the Royal Standard. All we have to do is get her to her uncle, sell our goods, and cruise back to Regent with a week over at Joy to unwind."

Joy! Oooooo...No! Business, you idiot, don't start thinking about Joy. Bad things happen in the Dark Worlds, terminally bad.

"Wait a minute," Piehl held his hand. "Flex, you keep saying Imperial this and Royal that, just who are we talking about here? Who is this girl?"

"Oh, she's First Princess Iralane, daughter of his Royal Highness Karl Tellemann the Eighteenth. You remember him, sir, the fellow you were chatting with the other evening?"

No! Piehl felt it all now. Well and truly hooked

It's political, I knew it.

At that moment three figures in stealth cloaks appeared through the back door near the spice dispenser. Two were small and one looked as if he could pick up the Bar and carry it to the other side of the spaceport.

From the smallest cloak came a high pitched sound of disgust.

"Mister Holtzman, you specifically told us this ‘Piehl’," her voice dripped contempt, "was a tough, ingenious, brave ship's captain, who always gets the job done. Sounds like a whimpering old man to me."

The slight, sibilant lisp of royal speech further accented her contempt.

Old man, now there's a cruel shot! Piehl grunted. Flex's comments regarding my prowess sound like an epitaph to me.

The large figure of the Imperial Sufic stood silent, unmoving, as though someone had carved him from rock. He was an impressive man with his great height, draped in the Green and gray robes of the order.

Then a soft voice came from beneath the other figure's opaque hood. "Be quiet, Iralane. Captain Piehl, please let me explain our situation. I am the Lady Giselle Lociranou and ..."

Piehl came to with a start. "Forgive me, my lady, I was caught up in your voice and didn't get what you said."

There was a musical chuckle. "You are forgiven, sir."

"Well, if you two can restrain the sweet talk, maybe we can get on with this whole stupid exercise." The princess was getting to be a royal pain.

The lady's mellow voice went on. "All that is needed, sir, is to make safe journey to the home of the princess's uncle on Back'n'Beyond. We are aware that it is a long trip. I'm sure we'll all do our best not to get under foot. The Princess and I can both use blast pistols, and I have held the post of ship's communication officer. We will be able to help in any difficulties that might arise."

"Difficulties? What difficulties? Is there something you haven't mentioned?" Piehl said.

"Your pardon, Captain. If you will be patient. As you know, His Royal Highness is under attack from several areas. Since the recent reverses at Orianne and Flamingo's Star, there are those in government and elsewhere who would harm the King, and failing that, try to get at him through his family.

"If I may interrupt. Granted you are who you say you are, why hire itinerant traders like Flex and me? Wouldn't it be easier for the Princess’s father to assign a fast tracker squadron as escort?"

"Yes, maybe, but His Highness is concerned that treachery has reached the top echelons of the Royal Navy. Therefore he wanted a more…circumspect method of travel. No, Captain, I am afraid you are his choice. His Highness was specific. He said, ‘Get Piehl, I know the man, he'll get the job done'."

Well, crap, Piehl thought. His Highness is most generous with his confidence. Faith, however won't smash a Raider.

Piehl wondered why he was carping. He was going to do it, he couldn't say no. The King had done the one thing Piehl couldn't ignore. He had shown respect for the Legion. He knew his protest was meaningless, that they might just as well get on with it.

She went on. "I trust the King, if he says it can be done, and you're the one to do it, I believe him."

"Many thanks, my lady. It happens that I also trust the King. Look, just suppose Flex and I do this, there are agreements we must have before lift-off. By the way, just when did you want to leave?" Piehl asked.

The dark robe seemed to hang a bit more tensely. "Tomorrow morning would be good, if you can," she said.

"Excuse me! No, Ma'am. I understand your urgency, but if we are to be properly prepared there are special things that must be done first. For that class ship I need crew; two, maybe three more men. Then there is cargo to be found and other 'essentials'."

"Every day we remain is greater danger. Sir, I would not give advantage to the King's enemies." Lady Lociranu said.

"I understand. Flex, put out a code call for an astrogator with military experience plus hi-computational skill, top wage; you know where to look."

"Aye, sir."

Flex went to work with the Comp, and Piehl listed the extras he wouldn't leave without. He looked up and the dark shapes were still standing where they'd been, although the small one was tapping her foot with a vicious cadence.

"Forgive me, ladies. If you'd like, please take a seat."

At that moment they were interrupted by a gurgling series of snorts from the corner of the bar. The Sufic, who till then hadn't moved, turned lithely and went to where the old sergeant major lay curled up on a bench. Reaching down, he gently rolled the sergeant into a new position, causing his snorts to subside into a quiet wheeze.

Piehl looked at the Sufic with interest. Now this fellow I could like, Piehl thought. Retired sergeants aren't at their best without a battle to lie about, or other sergeants to drink with.

The ladies took seats as Piehl tried to gather his thoughts. It was time to let them know which way the wind blew.

"Ladies, the rules aboard the ship and dirtside, anywhere between here and our final destination are simple. If I give a command, you obey instantly."

There was a snort from the smallest cloak. Using his harsh flight deck voice, Piehl barked.

"If there's any argument you can find other means of transportation, do you Understand, Miss?"

"Yes, Captain, We understand completely," Lady Lociranou replied.

Piehl looked at all of them for a minute. "For my part, the crew and I will try to be as aware of your needs as shipboard demands allow. If however there's trouble I must have absolute obedience. It's for your survival."

"Excuse me, ladies, don't be alarmed," Piehl said.

"Sar'n Major, front and center, at the double!" Piehl put a lot of snap into the command.

The Sergeant Major came off the bench only slightly slower than in years past, took a quick sweep over his clothes, whipped out a big hunk of cloth and wiped his face. He strode over in front of Piehl and banged to attention with a crash of heels. While he didn't actually salute, he came to such rigid attention he gave the impression of having saluted.

"Sergeant, I need your service."

"Sir!" His posture seemed to become even more rigid.

"I have a bit of a situation here. I'd like my meeting with these ‘citizens’," Piehl inclined his head toward the three in stealth cloaks, "to go undisturbed for security reasons. I'd appreciate your help."

"Sir!"

“I'd like you to stand guard at the door. Allow no one in until we've concluded our business. Will you do that for me, Sergeant?"

"Of course, sir. May the sergeant ask how much you wish to remain undisturbed?"

"A lot, Sergeant."

He smiled with satisfaction, showing a lot of battered teeth in a weathered, durable face. He went to the door and looked outside, closed it and set the panel lock.

"I am sorry for the dramatics, ladies, but it occurred to me that you may have been followed, and it wouldn't do for us to be spreading our plans dockside. As soon as we're finished here I want you to go with the Sufic directly to the new ship. Proceed straight to your quarters and stay there. Lock up after you."

Piehl expected another termagant screech.

"Be still, girl. Your man can make arrangements to bring your things to the ship. I want the two of you to disappear. Your father can arrange the proper excuses as to why you are missing from court functions. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Captain." It was the sweet voice of the Lady Lociranou.

"Hmmmph," a quasi-affirmative grumble from the Princess. The Sufic Major bowed his head briefly in assent.

"Now, someone mentioned an armed cruiser. We'll need to know a lot more." Piehl was all business.

The Sufic Major stepped forward and pulled a micro-store from his cloak and handed it to Piehl. Piehl put it in his belt comp and reviewed the data.

The ship was named, Wellspring. After scanning the data, Piehl thought it would do, after he'd made a few modifications.

"Too light, too light by half. This stuff's fine if you want to annoy someone, but it won't terminate. Look at this, Flex."

Flex looked over Piehl's shoulder as he read out the data. "Five mega-joule semi-repeaters with a five second charge-up. God help us, good for hunting on Safari, not much else."

Piehl started punching out orders direct to Flex's comp. "Get this stuff installed right away."

"You expecting Armageddon?"

"No, but when it comes, I intend to participate." It was a different man who gave the orders now that there was a mission.

"Okay. Your wish is my command, Captain."

"Before you start, have the ship given a Class Five sweep, including N-Space tracers."

"Yes, sir. Have you any idea what all this costs?" Flex asked.

"Not to worry, Flex. King's Credit. If he thinks as much of his daughter as I imagine, he's not going to spare credits. And Flex, get a security drape put around the docking bay."

Piehl paused, reviewing. "Then get hold of Shorty McGrane. He's the best ship fitter on Regent's. His men can be trusted, they're Legion. We'll have him do the whole re-fit, no haggle, premium pay. I owe him."

"Aye, aye, Captain."

The princess's high voice dripped sarcasm. "What happened to the tramp captain? Now you sound more like an admiral on the Holo. All orders and let's get on with it," she mocked a man's low voice.

Piehl said nothing.

Flex answered for Piehl. "Look, your officiousness, he never was cowardly or itinerant. If you don't mind, Zip It Up!"

"How dare you address me in such a manner, you...you!"

Flex ignored her. Piehl was sure he could see steam rising around the cowl of her stealth suit.

"By the way, Flex, find out if IMP can be transferred to the new ship's central."

IMP was an Infinity Matrix Processor, something Piehl had retrieved from the old days in the Legion. It held almost as much data as Central System Files. The IMP definitely had more personality.

Piehl turned to the Sufic major. "On your return from the palace I'd like you to bring currency, different types, precious metals, gems and the like. You never know, might come in handy. Tell the King, he'll know what I need."

Piehl went to the bar. "Anybody need something to wet their cords, speak."

"I'll have a spice flame brandy," The Princess answered immediately.

Not likely, Piehl thought. "One nectar fruit with a quarter shot of mild spice wine."

This was followed by much bad language and grumbling from the princess.

"I see literacy is still not required among the purple, your tenderness," Flex quipped.

Piehl came out from behind the bar. Things were moving, they were committed.

"Lady Lociranou, could you get a current intelligence survey of activities for all the In-System Princes and Econo-Lords integrated for connection to the Dark Worlds? If His Highness has any trusted people out that way I want to know who they are. The Sufic can bring it back when he returns from the palace. Please ask him to err in the direction of more data than too little."

She nodded, and began to speak quietly into her wrist unit. Not bad, Piehl thought. If she looked anything like she sounded, three and a half months on a small ship could get interesting.

Sir, we have company, what looks like an Alpha-Prime Whistler," the Sergeant called over from the door.

"See what he wants, Sergeant."

The sergeant opened the door a crack, and after a moment's whispered conversation, turned and said with a grin, "I think you better talk to this one, sir. He says, among other things, he's an N - 1 Class Astrogator with military experience and a multi-math, to boot."

"Bring him in, Sergeant."

Through the door came the damndest collection of weird they'd ever seen, except Flex and Piehl. They’d served with Whistlers in the past. Those were memories he wasn't likely to forget.

His/her/its appearance at first sight was of a five foot tall, long-haired rug, constructed on the basic human form: two arms, two legs and a sort of head. Closer inspection revealed many peculiarities.

His whole body was covered with flexible quills, from which they got their name. When they move, the random quill motion created a soft, whistling sound. Quite pleasant when one got used to it.

In the center of the head were two large, circular, expressive eyes with the feline vertical iris. The eyes extruded on flexible stalks to a distance of about six inches. Took getting use to, hearing beautifully articulated speech coming from their whole body.

The quills covering the body were more than protective covering. Each individual strand was thick at the base, varying evenly out to microscopically thin at the tip. It was this characteristic which explained how Whistler produced sound.

They had the unique ability to selectively vibrate each individual strand locally along its length from the base to tip. In this way they were able to produce an astounding variety of sound.

It was said that when one has been around a Whistler for a while, you can read their emotional state from the waves and ripples moving over their bodies.

On seeing Piehl the Whistler came directly forward with an easy rolling motion and stopped. He went to the attention form of highest respect, eye stalks extruded six inches and aimed at Piehl's chest.

Then in ringing, sonorous tones; "I see thee, Colonel, Brevet Brigadier General, Sir Aubrey Jerrad Piehl, TSV Commanding, 3^rd Brigade of Marines, Mars Legion. He who would not retreat! He who would not surrender! I see thee.”

The Sufic major stepped forward, removed the hood of his cloak and came to attention. He was followed by the Sergeant Major.

Piehl found himself on his feet in front of them with the hair on his neck standing and a chill running through his body. It took a moment before he could speak.

"Identify yourself, please."

"Sir. I am Tsusurup Tsusurus Ing, former Battle Major, Senior Astrogator, 12^th Altair Flight Wing. We did not retreat! We did not surrender!" His voice boomed through the small room.

"I see thee, Battle Major Ing." Piehl returned the salute. From a cold and distant place he came back to the present. His group and Piehl's had been the only ones who stayed behind at the end.

"Stand easy, everyone. Gentlemen, join me at the bar." Piehl was shaken. "Flex, five large ones." When it was done he passed them around. The Sufic looked doubtful.

"Religious scruples?" Piehl asked.

"No, sir." He spoke for the first time. "I have never taken spirit with a general, sir."

"Well, I'm not a general now and haven't been for a long time. I request it."

They took the tall metal mugs in hand. "Raise them, gentleman." They drank the fiery liquid down and slammed the mugs hard on the bar.

"Absent companions." The others repeated the toast after him. There was a long silence after the ancient warriors toast.

"Alright, let's get back to business. First, Mister Ing, do you want in on our little party? The trip will be long, and more to the point, into the Dark Worlds."

"Gen...sir, I'd sign with you on a one way trip to the Great Inversion."

"Thank you, Mister Ing. I've already been,” Piehl said. "I'll not go that way again if I can help it. Here's a micro-core of the ship we're using. Get with Flex about the transfer of my ship's comp. Do it gently. IMP lives and he doesn't like ‘between ship’. Get familiar with the whole layout. I want to up-ship in a week. If you have any personal things that need to be handled, get it done quickly. And, Mister Ing, thank you again, I didn't get a chance at Vincent's."

His eye stalks extended further as he spoke, "I see thee, General."

"Hah! Hah!" A high pitched voice, all too familiar. "Well, I want to hear all about this! The infamous Sir Aubrey Piehl, here." There followed bubbles of laughter. "Mister Ing, please tell us all about you and Sir Aubrey. He's on my history disks."

"There will be none of that! It is a closed subject, not to be opened by anyone. Understand me, Princess, I won't say it twice."

The Princess grumbled.

"Sir, may the Sergeant have permission to address the Gen...the Captain, sir?"

"Rest, Sergeant Major. We're all civilians here, except the Sufic Major. Speak. You've done me service. What's your name, what do they call you?"

"When I was in the Imperial Marines, I was called `The Fist’ as my given name is Elroy Hand, sir." He grinned easily. "There were other reasons, sir."

Piehl laughed. "I imagine there were. What's on your mind, Sergeant?"

"Sir, you'll be going out on a bit of a journey soon and the dice are in the other man's hand. You're short on crew and have no one to look after you, personal. You'll need someone to cover your a...pardon me, ladies…back." he blushed and glanced toward the women, "someone who's been there before.

"I know what you're wondering; an old, crapped out, spice-gut marine might not be much use to you. Sir, when I cross ship's steel, I know what to do. I'm not as bad as I look. After I've walked the steel for a week I'll be prime."

His voice was as close to pleading as a marine ever gets. Piehl knew he had another crew member. Well, if it came down to it, he was right. I do need an experienced...Hand.

"Can you run a ship's weapons console, Sergeant Major?"

"Aye, Captain."

"Get your gear, Sergeant. Two shots of Un-spin. You'll need to be very fit. Bring your full kit if you still have it."

The Sergeant Major came crashing to attention again and began to salute then, dropped his arm to his side.

"I'm obliged, Captain, very obliged. Yes, sir," I have my ‘full kit’.”

"You'll have to knock off the military crap, Sergeant. It makes me nervous. I keep waiting for Grand Admiral Bozeman-Keller to come through the door, fangs aimed at my delinquent…back."

The sergeant chuckled. "You remember, sir."

"Aye, I do. You go with Flex. He'll need help getting the refit underway. There's also a couple of special items on the list you can help with."

"Aye, aye, General." He left with Flex.

Oh well, Piehl thought, one can't re-educate an old line sergeant overnight, and I'm not sure I want to.

Piehl turned to the Sufic. "I'm going to need to know what to call you. We're going to be under each other's feet for some time."

"I am called Carn Tenn'ek. I hold the rank of Guards Major in the Imperial Guards. I think you should know I fought with the Imperials against you at Vincent's, sir, in the late 'troubles'."

"Thank you, Major Tenn'ek. We'll get along. A warrior does his duty. If you will, take the ladies to the ship, then get started on the other items I mentioned."

"Certainly, Captain." He escorted the ladies to the door.

"Your Highness, Lady Lociranou, I will see you on the ship in a few days."

"General," the Princess answered with a giggle.

"Sir Aubrey, until then." The Lady Lociranou made it sound worth waiting for.

Piehl sighed. Give me strength. Two women on a small cruiser, one of them a willful child and the other, I don't know what, but it looks as if I'm going to find out.