The Tsihn captain was almost my size. It sat in its command chair and looked me over the way a snake studies its prey. Its scales were mottled green and yellow with some gray spots here and there. Much of its upper torso was covered with insignias and markings of rank. Its snout was wide and filled with tiny needle-like teeth.
“You have no uniform?”
I realized I was still in my threadbare shorts. Before I could reply, it said, “We will provide you with a proper uniform.”
“Thank you,” I said.
It seemed decidedly unhappy. “I have lost many capable Tsihn to rescue you and the other humans.”
“You arrived too late,” I said. “The men and women of my assault team have been frozen by the Skorpis.”
The reptile’s tongue darted out from between those teeth, flicked back and forth for an instant, then retreated.
“So your team goes into the Skorpis bellies.”
“You can still pick them up, if you haven’t destroyed their base altogether.”
“Not destroyed,” it said. “My orders were to locate you and bring you and the other humans to my ship. This I did. I bombarded the Skorpis base, overloaded their shield, and snatched you from them. It cost me a dozen Tsihn killed, many more wounded.”
“But my troopers are still down there on the planet, frozen!”
“No concern. I have obeyed my orders. You are the one I was commanded to rescue. And those with you.”
“But those are not my troops.” I tried to make it understand. “My troops are still with the Skorpis.”
“Yes, frozen, I know.” The tongue flicked out again; then it asked, “So who are the humans with you?”
“Scientists,” I said.
“I was told you would be with an assault team, not a pack of scientists.”
I hesitated. If I revealed to the reptilian that these humans were enemies, what would it do?
It saw through my silence. “Scientists of the Hegemony, is that it?”
“They were studying the planet, trying to make contact with intelligent creatures in the sea. They are not soldiers,” I said.
“But they serve the enemy.”
“The Skorpis were there to protect them.”
The captain hissed in a way that almost sounded like laughter. “Some protectors! We snatched them right from between their claws!”
“But my troop is still there,” I repeated. “They’re the ones you were supposed to rescue. You must go back-”
“Go back!” it snapped. “By now the Hegemony has a whole battle fleet swarming around Lunga. I have only four ships, two of them badly damaged by the Skorpis ground defenses. My mission was to sneak in and rescue you, not to take on a Hegemony battle fleet. We don’t go back. We run away as fast as we can.”
“But my troopers-”
“Can’t be helped. Not now. This is war, human. Losses are to be expected.”
Not my troopers, I said to myself. Not Frede and Jerron and the rest of them. They’ve suffered enough. They’ve been through battle and done everything we asked of them. I’m not going to leave them to feed the Skorpis.
“Tell me about these scientists,” the captain was saying to me. “They must have valuable information in their heads, no?”
“They’re not military scientists,” I said, warily. “They don’t know anything about weapons or strategy.”
“Still, they are a good prize to bring back to headquarters. A bonus. I will be praised.”
“You’d be praised more if you brought back the troopers you were sent to rescue,” I grumbled.
Its red eyes seemed to burn. “Orion, I was sent to rescue you. That I have done. My orders said to bring up any humans with you. That I have done, also.”
I stood my ground and glowered back at it.
It shifted in its chair, then raised one taloned three-fingered hand. “Take the helm,” it said to its second-in-command. Then it curled one of those taloned fingers and said, “Come with me, Orion.”
Mutely I followed it through a hatch that we both had to duck through and into a small, dimly lit compartment. I saw a wide bunk built into one bulkhead, a desk with a blank display screen above it. The captain’s quarters, I guessed, spare and spartan.
“Sit,” it commanded. There was only one chair, a stool, actually, in front of the desk. The captain eased its bulk onto the bed. It reached to a panel at the head of its bunk and a section of the bulkhead turned transparent.
I gasped. We were out in deep space, nothing to see but stars that were stretching into elongated streaks of light because of our ship’s relativistic speed.
“We run with our tails between our legs, Orion,” the captain said good-naturedly. “Soon we reach lightspeed and then there is nothing out there to see.”
I looked back at it and saw that it was holding a metal drinking cup out to me.
“Alcoholic beverage made from grain,” it said. “I keep this for human guests.”
“Thank you.” I accepted the cup.
It reached into the compartment in its bunk again and poured something else into another cup. “Tsihn prefer drinks with blood in them.”
We touched cups and drank. The liquor was smooth and warming.
“Many intelligent species have rituals of sharing food or drink to show friendship,” said the captain. “I want you to know that even though I cannot rescue your assault team, I wish to be friendly with you.”
“I understand,” I said.
“War is never pretty. But maybe for your troops this is a better fate than they might have expected. They are frozen now. They feel nothing.”
“But they must have known what the Skorpis intended when they were put into the freezer cells,” I said. “Their last thoughts must have been hell.”
I realized that its darting tongue was the Tsihn equivalent of a sigh. “So what better did they have to look forward to? Your Commonwealth does not regard warriors with honor. The Hegemony, too. Humans treat their warriors very strangely, Orion.”
“They treat them as if they’re less than human,” I admitted.
“Yes. Send them to do fighting, then freeze them when fighting’s over.” It shook its head. “Your warriors are treated like machines. Worse.”
“I would still like to save them, if I could. I’d like to help them, find a place where they could live in peace and safety, without the Commonwealth forcing them to go into battle, without being frozen like some unwanted slabs of meat until they’re needed again.” I was thinking out loud now, letting my thoughts spin out to this stranger who was not human in form but more human than my own Creators in its sympathy.
“Put it out of your mind, Orion,” said the captain. “I would like to retire to a planet I saw once, green and lush and so humid that steam rises from the swamps every morning of its year. But I will die in a metal egg, Orion. I will spend my life aboard this ship or another like it and one day, somewhere, I will be killed. That is the life of a warrior. That is what we are, Orion, you and I and all those others of so many different species. We were hatched to fight our peoples’ battles. There is no other life for any of us.”
I sat in that cramped compartment sipping at the whisky this reptilian captain had given me while we grew more morose and bitter. At last I pushed myself to my feet and asked it to excuse me. It ordered one of its bridge crew to show me to my quarters, which turned out to be a compartment almost identical to the captain’s. The Tsihn showed me how to manipulate the controls to make the bulkhead transparent and to tap into the ship’s communicator and computer systems. It slid back a panel and I saw a closet with two sets of uniforms hanging in it.
Once the reptilian left me alone, I slid the closet shut and stretched out on the bunk. It was a little short for me, but I did not care. I had no intention of sleeping in it.
I summoned the Golden One. I called across the currents of space-time to him. Speak to me, I urged. Give me a moment of your attention.
Nothing. He would not answer. I could have translated myself back to the Creators’ city, but what good would that have done? Aten would not deign to see me there. The last time he had sent his messenger. I did not want a messenger, I wanted Aten himself, the Golden One.
But he would not reply to me. When I closed all my senses and tried to reach out to him with my mind, I received nothing but emptiness.
Wait! There was something. A tendril of thought. The faintest whisper of a contact.
Friend Orion, said the Old Ones. You have survived the battle.
But my troopers, I called to the Old Ones. They have been frozen. They will be killed.
You want to save them.
I can’t do it by myself. Can you help me?
We do not interfere in any way, Orion. We have made that pledge and we will keep it.
But my troopers…
We feel your pain, Orion. You are gaining in wisdom. Pain is the price of wisdom.
Is there no way they can be saved?
That is for you to determine, friend. Use all your resources. Reach out to grasp the opportunities that surround you.
What opportunities? I asked.
But there was no further response. The Old Ones had said what they wanted to say and departed from my mind.
Use all your resources, they had told me. Grasp the opportunities that surround you.
I swung my legs off the bunk and reached across the narrow compartment to activate the ship’s computer. Through the transparent bulkhead I could see that we were still flying at relativistic velocity, not yet beyond lightspeed. I called up the tactical program and saw that there was indeed a full squadron of Hegemony battle cruisers chasing after us. The tactical plot showed that we would reach lightspeed before they came within weapons’ range. Once past lightspeed we would be safe.
We would also be unable to send back a ship toward Lunga to pick up my troopers. Whatever I was going to do, I had to do it before we got to lightspeed.
I had less than two hours to act.
Chapter 16
I spent nearly half that time at the computer screen, learning every aspect of the Blood Hunter , from engine rooms to weapons systems. I was particularly interested in the auxiliary ships that this cruiser carried. They ranged from tiny scouts to shuttles big enough to carry assault teams to a planet’s surface.
I found one that might serve for what I had in mind: a survey ship that had an adequate carrying capacity and enough range and life support to make it all the way back to Lunga. If I could get it off the Blood Hunter before the warship reached lightspeed.
I had to act quickly. I felt a momentary pang of regret that I would have to act against the captain who had tried to befriend me. But, as the reptilian itself had said, war is never pretty.
I had no weapons, but at least I had a decent uniform to wear: the blue of Earth’s sky, with a high choker collar and a wide belt of gold. The buckle was a sunburst symbol, I saw. The emblem of the Golden One. I grimaced with distaste but cinched it around my waist, wishing I had a pistol to hang on it.
Out into the passageway and straight down to the level where the Hegemony scientists were being kept. I passed several Tsihn of various sizes and hues; none of them tried to stop me or even acknowledged my presence in any way. Good. Let me be a nonperson among them.
The hatch to the scientists’ compartment was locked but unguarded. I simply unlocked it and ducked through. They seemed to be preparing for sleep; most of them were sitting on their bunks, a few huddled together in a corner of the chamber, talking.
“On your feet, all of you!” I snapped. “We’re getting off this ship. Now!”
They dithered a bit, but once I told Delos that I was taking them back to Lunga he got them organized in quick order. Now came the hard part: getting all twenty-three of us down to the hangar bay where the survey vessel was docked.
“Stay close together and follow me,” I told them. “If we’re stopped, let me do the talking.”
It almost worked.
We marched along the passageway and down the power ladder to the hangar level. A few Tsihn passed us, but none bothered to ask what we were doing. There were no guards posted inside the ship, but we found a quartet of mechanics working on a damaged scout ship in the repair bay down at the hangar level.
“Nonessential personnel are not allowed in this area,” said the biggest of the mechanics.
“We’re just passing through,” I said.
It was not put off. “Security!” it called to the microphone built into the hangar bulkhead. “Unauthorized humans in the hangar bay!”
I smiled and said, “You’ve done your duty very well. The captain will be pleased with you.”
And walked my gaggle of scientists past him, toward the pod where the survey vessel was housed.
It sat in the pod, a bulky ungainly conglomeration of spherical crew habitats, cargo holds, equipment containers and propulsion engines. It was a true spaceship, never meant to fly in an atmosphere or land on a planet’s surface.
“Get your people aboard quickly,” I said to Delos as I flipped open the cover of the pod’s door controls.
“SECURITY TEAM TO HANGAR POD FOUR,” bellowed the ship’s intercom. “ON THE DOUBLE.”
No time to study the door controls. The Tsihn would override the electronic system from the bridge, anyway. I just reached in and smashed the control panel with my fist. Then I grabbed the overhead door and pulled it shut manually. It moved grudgingly, but within a few seconds I had it closed and manually locked.
The air-lock hatch was another matter. I sprinted into the survey ship and squeezed through its hatch.
“Seal the hatch once everyone’s through,” I said to the nearest scientist as I made my way forward to the cockpit. Delos was already in the pilot’s seat, powering up the ship’s systems. I slid into the other seat.
“You’re going to get us all killed, you know,” he said from between gritted teeth. But his fingers were flying across the control boards. Indicators were lighting up; I could hear the ship’s generators whining to life.
“We’ve got to open the air-lock hatch,” I muttered, directing the computer screen to list an inventory of the ship’s equipment.
“A ship like this doesn’t carry weapons,” Delos said.
But it did have a digging laser, I saw on the inventory list. A couple of touches of my fingertips and the computer showed me where the digger was stored.
I pushed out of the cockpit, commandeered two of the strongest-looking men, and went outside the ship to unpack the digging laser. Tsihn crewmen were pounding on the pod doors, and the intercom blared:
“ORION, THIS IS THE CAPTAIN SPEAKING. HAVE YOU GONE INSANE? STOP THIS MADNESS AT ONCE OR I WILL BE FORCED TO ORDER MY WARRIORS TO BLAST THEIR WAY INTO THAT POD AND KILL ALL OF YOU!”
“Captain,” I shouted, “I’m taking these humans back to Lunga to exchange them for my troopers.”
“THAT IS IMPOSSIBLE. YOU HAVE NO ORDERS TO DO SO.”
“I’m going to crash this ship through the air-lock hatch,” I bluffed.
“THAT WILL DAMAGE MY VESSEL AND KILL YOU.”
“This survey vessel is built pretty solidly. I think I can make it through the air lock.” I was working furiously as I spoke, helping the others to unpack the laser.
“MADNESS!”
“You could save a considerable amount of damage to your ship by opening the air lock,” I said.
“THAT WOULD ALLOW YOU TO ESCAPE.”
“That would save your ship from damage. Who knows, maybe this survey ship’s engines will overheat and explode when I try to push her through the air-lock hatches.”
By now we had pulled the laser equipment free of its container and were starting to connect its power pack and alignment optics.
“YOU ARE THREATENING TO DESTROY MY SHIP!” the captain bellowed.
“I only want to get back to Lunga and barter these scientists for my troopers,” I said.
“I COULD ALLOW YOU TO LEAVE THE BLOOD HUNTER AND THEN DESTROY YOU ONCE YOU ARE A SAFE DISTANCE AWAY.”
I hadn’t thought of that. “Yes, that’s true. You could.”
“Look!” shouted one of the scientists.
I followed his pointed finger and saw that the pod door was turning a dull red. The crewmen were working on it with a torch.
And then, with a rumble, the inner air-lock hatch began to slide open.
“PUMPING DOWN TO VACUUM,” said an automated computer voice. “THIS AREA SHOULD BE CLEARED OF ALL PERSONNEL IN TEN SECONDS.”
We left the digger sitting in pieces on the deck and jammed through the ship’s hatch. I pushed past the scientists crowding the main habitat sphere and went up to the cockpit. Randa was sitting alongside Delos.
“The captain’s going to let us out,” I said. Through the cockpit’s observation port I saw that the outer air-lock hatch was opening. I could see the stars out there.
“Yes, and then he’ll blow us to eternity once we’re clear of his precious ship,” Randa muttered.
“I don’t think so,” I said, thinking of the captain who shared a drink with me.
The air lock was fully open now. Delos touched the propulsion master-control key and the ship seemed to lurch once, then slide smoothly toward the open hatch, beyond it and out into the dark starry void.
I leaned between them and punched at the communicator panel until the Tsihn captain’s red-eyed face glared up from the screen at me.
“I’m sorry to betray you this way, Captain,” I said. “But this is something that I must do.”
It hissed. “I’m not even going to waste a shot on you, traitor. Let the Skorpis blow you to hell. There are plenty of them heading your way.”
I grinned at it. “Thank you, Captain.”
Its slitted eyes closed briefly; then it said, “Go with honor, Orion.”
Minutes later the Blood Hunter winked out of sight with a soundless flash of blinding white light, safely in superlight velocity, beyond pursuit by the Skorpis.
Which we decidedly were not. As soon as Randa turned on the ship’s long-range sensors, half a dozen battle cruisers showed on our tiny screen, heading our way.
Delos immediately began taping a message to be beamed to them. “This is Dr. Delos of the University of Farcall, chief of the scientific research team on the planet Lunga. We are returning to Lunga aboard a survey vessel. We are unarmed. Our entire complement of crew is scientists and the human named Orion. I repeat, we are unarmed and are returning to Lunga.”
Then we waited to see if the approaching Skorpis cruisers would listen to his message or shoot first and ask questions afterward.
They listened, and I could hear the sighs of relief echoing through the whole ship.
The commander of the Skorpis squadron spoke at length with Delos as the ponderous battle cruisers took up formation all around us. We headed back toward Lunga surrounded by the cruisers, a minnow being escorted by killer whales. It was almost ludicrous.
The scientists seemed tremendously relieved. Only as they gathered around me and thanked me for rescuing them from the Tsihn did I realize how much they had feared being prisoners.
“Those lizards make my blood run cold,” said one of the women. “They don’t have a shred of human decency.”
I thought of the Skorpis and their eating habits and wondered how much political expediency shaped her attitudes. Your alien enemies are inhuman; your alien allies are extraterrestrials.