Galactic Bounty (29 page)

As soon as it came into sight, the tractor came under fire. The corporal had placed his men well, and they knew their business. All McCade could do was keep going. If they left the protection of the train there was no cover at all. If he tried to turn around, he'd expose the length of the train to raking fire. He gritted his teeth and ducked, as did Baron Lif. A second later an energy beam sliced through the tractor's cab about head high, leaving behind the smell of hot metal and burned plastic.

Meanwhile, led by Van Doren and the others, Lif's troops opened an ineffectual fire on the barricade. Their efforts were hampered by the tractor and pallets in front of them, and their aim wasn't improved any when McCade began to swerve from side to side in an attempt at evasive action.

However Rico did manage to intimidate Zorta's troops with an automatic grenade launcher he'd picked up somewhere. As he targeted a line of explosions across the top of the barricade, the defenders were forced down and back.

The Treel did his part as well, yelling "Die, Infidel," as he systematically picked off enemy troopers.

McCade held the tractor's accelerator to the floor, but as before he found he couldn't make any real speed. The tractor took its own sweet time to cover the remaining yards and finally crash into the barricade.

McCade squeezed between a huge packing crate and a filing cabinet only to find himself the target of a wicked, foot-long bayonet in the fist of a charging Lakorian regular. McCade's slug gun bucked three times, stitching big black holes across the soldier's chest and spraying gore out behind him. The alien's inertia carried him past to crash into the barricade before sliding to the floor.

Around him similar encounters were taking place as McCade jumped on top of a desk. "Take prisoners! We need prisoners!" he shouted.

His reward for exposing himself was a searing line of pain across the top of his shoulder. He spun around, searching for the source and found it. The slug gun roared twice and the impact of the huge slugs blew one side of the Lakorian's head off before spinning him around like a top.

Then, as quickly as it had begun, the battle was over.

"Over here, boss!" Van Doren shouted. "We've got a live one!"

McCade arrived to find there were four live ones. And as luck would have it, one of them was the same corporal who had ordered the defense.

"So far he's not talking, boss," Van Doren said crossly. "Shall I knock him around a little?"

"First allow me to test my powers of persuasion, good Squire." Baron Lif smoothly inserted himself between Van Doren and the corporal. "We have a saying. The wise man trades words before blows." With that he began talking to the soldier in low, urgent tones.

As the Baron interrogated the corporal, a second contingent of his troops arrived from the tunnel and formed up to advance upon command.

At a gesture from Lif, McCade moved over to join him. To McCade's surprise the corporal was smiling as he ripped Zorta's insignia from his own uniform. His three remaining subordinants were doing likewise.

"I would like to introduce you to Staff Sergeant Poka, good Knight. The sergeant and his men have decided to ally themselves with the side of freedom and justice."

And the side that's winning, McCade thought. "Welcome aboard, Sergeant," McCade said. "You and your men put up a valiant defense."

Poka inclined his head respectfully. "Thank you, sire. How may my men and I serve you?"

"First as guides, I suspect," Lif answered, looking at McCade for confirmation. "I assume that was why you called for prisoners, my friend."

"Exactly, my lord," McCade bowed slightly. "I suggest you and your men strike out for Zorta's quarters under the sergeant's guidance. Once Zorta is in your hands, his troops will cave in rather quickly, I think. Meanwhile, if one of the sergeant's men could be spared, we will search for the Princess."

"Of course, good Knight, it shall be as you say." The Baron regarded McCade silently for a moment before speaking again. "You and your men have forged links of friendship not easily broken, my friend."

Lif was saying good-bye. Somehow he knew McCade didn't intend to be around for the victory celebration—or defeat—whichever might occur. As he gripped the Baron's hand, McCade saw genuine regret in the Lakorian's eyes. To his own surprise he realized he too felt regret. Lif was a crafty bastard, but a good bastard all the same.

Sergeant Poka detailed a Private Ven as McCade's guide. Ven was undersized, by Lakorian standards, and had a shifty look about him. McCade had a hunch their new guide would be about as dependable as a Linthian Rath snake during the mating season. With that in mind, he called Phil over.

"Phil, I'd like you to meet Private Ven. He's going to take us to the slave quarters, aren't you, Ven?"

The Lakorian nodded eagerly, eyes shifting nervously back and forth between the human and the Variant.

"Make sure that nothing happens to Ven, Phil," said McCade meaningfully.

"Gotcha, Sam," Phil replied with a grin that revealed rows of durasteel teeth. "Ven and I are going to be real close friends, aren't we, Ven?"

The Lakorian didn't reply, seemingly unable to tear his eyes away from those gleaming teeth.

Lif's troops meanwhile had begun their advance up the ramp in search of King Zorta.

After a short huddle with Ven, Phil said, "According to my good buddy here, the slave quarters are directly above us. Evidently the lower levels of the complex are considered the least desirable. We broke in on the lowest or utility level. Above us are the slave quarters, kitchens and mess hall. The troops are quartered on the level above that, and then comes a floor dedicated to Zorta's private quarters and guest suites. The very topmost level is all for defense and features an air strip and a small spaceport."

He looked at McCade with a raised eyebrow. McCade nodded his understanding. It was something they had to think about. With the tractor gone and their crawler out of action, they needed a way out. If they could find Sara and then reach the top level, maybe they could steal a plane. Time would tell.

"All right, let's get moving," McCade said, reloading his slug gun. He'd lost the auto-slug thrower somewhere, but decided not to look for it.

Using an electronic key, Ven opened one of the hatches spaced at regular intervals along the ramp's wall. Once open, the hatch revealed a vertical ladder, evidently provided for maintenance purposes. Without hesitation Ven started climbing upward and Phil followed. McCade was next. As he climbed, he found the spacing of the rungs more suited to shorter Lakorian legs than his own. Below him Rico, Van Doren, and the Treel followed. Cold air blew down against his face. Evidently the shaft also served as part of the air conditioning system. By the time they reached the next landing, McCade was out of breath and damned cold to boot. With Phil and Ven, he waited on the landing, catching his breath as Rico, Van Doren, and the Treel climbed up to join them.

Ven opened another hatch and peeked out. A moment later he slipped through the opening, motioning to the rest to follow. They emerged into a side corridor which was, for the moment, empty. As they followed Ven down the hallway, McCade could hear the distant sounds of an alarm gong and fighting. Lif's forces had evidently made contact with Zorta's troops.

"Stop!"

The order came from behind them and was answered with a bolt from Van Doren's energy weapon. A soldier wearing half a cook's outfit and half a uniform crumpled to the floor, his weapon falling from dead fingers. They were off and running after that. Ven led them from one corridor to the next with remarkable speed. Of course the fact that Phil was right behind him probably helped.

As they ran they traded occasional shots with barely glimpsed troops who also seemed to be running somewhere. But they managed to avoid prolonged firefights. Until Ven whipped around one corner too many without looking first. They rounded the corner and ran full tilt into a whole section of Lakorian troops. Fortunately the soldiers were facing the other way with their weapons trained on a large steel door. In a flash McCade guessed why. The slaves were taking advantage of Lif's attack and were trying to escape. The searing white light of the energy beam cutting its way around the lock from the other side confirmed his guess.

Unfortunately Ven's inertia proved to be so great he was unable to stop and crashed full speed into the rearmost trooper, who took several others down with him as he fell. Taking advantage of the confusion thus created, McCade and the others hit the deck and opened fire. Caught between hostile fire and a steel door, it didn't take the noncoms long to decide that discretion was indeed the better part of valor and try for a hasty retreat down a side corridor. Their orderly withdrawal was turned into a rout when Rico brought his grenade launcher into play.

Approaching the steel door, McCade felt a wave of heat and smelled a mixture of smoke and Lakorian body odor. He noticed that the cutting beam had almost circled the lock. He stepped back and went to kneel beside Ven's body. At McCade's touch the Lakorian's eyes flew open and flitted about, shrewdly evaluating the situation. Satisfied the danger had past, Ven quickly regained his feet, evidently untouched, and confirming McCade's estimate of the Lakorian's potential for duplicity.

"Well, sire," Ven said blandly as he dusted himself off, "I guess we showed them!"

With a loud clang, a six-inch thick circular slab of metal hit the floor. Slowly, against the resistance of its normal mechanical system, the huge door was rolled aside to reveal a mob of angry slaves. They were waving weapons of all kinds, from chair legs to captured energy weapons. As the door slid out of the way, they charged, and then jerked to a sudden halt at a sign from their helmeted leader.

The leader took two paces forward before lifting the helmet's visor. "Well, Sam," Sara said, "what took you so long?"

Then she was in his arms, covering his face with kisses, laughing and crying at the same time. She filled not only his arms, but his heart and mind as well. For the first time in years, he felt really happy, and he didn't want to let go of either Sara or the feeling.

Nonetheless Rico managed to get his attention with a none too discreet cough. "Turn 'er loose there, sport, and give someone else a shot. Always hoggin' all the pretty women."

"Rico!" With a shout of glee Sara was lifted and spun around like a little girl. Laughing, she said, "Put me down, Rico! This is no way for Council members to act. It's not dignified."

"Not dignified, huh," Rico said as he put her on her feet. "How about that outfit. Since when did Council members go around wearin' nothin' but two scraps o' cloth and a helmet?"

Looking down, Sara blushed. McCade saw that Rico was right, Sara had made her escape in a wispy two-piece costume that left very little to the imagination.

"Well I like it," McCade said.

Sara made a face and turned to Van Doren. "Well Amos, at least you're always nice to me." Standing on tiptoe she kissed him on the cheek. Much to McCade's amusement, the big marine turned bright red with embarrassment and didn't say a word.

Then Sara caught sight of Mungo and stepped back, bringing up her energy weapon.

Moving quickly to her side McCade said, "No Sara, it's not Mungo. It's the Treel again. For the moment, he's on our side. Believe me it's a long story."

"The rigid one speaks truly," the Treel said. "We are fellow warriors in the service of the great Yareel! Death to the infidels!"

"Like I said, it's a long story," McCade said, seeing her amazement.

"And time is what we don't have, Sam," Phil interjected. "Those troopers will probably be back with friends for company."

"I'm sorry," McCade said. "Sara, meet Phil. By the way, he's now one of your constituents."

If Sara was surprised by Phil's appearance, she gave no sign of it.

"I'm pleased to meet you, Phil," she said. McCade watched in astonishment as the big Variant bowed gracefully to gently kiss her hand. "The pleasure is all mine, beautiful lady."

Turning to McCade, Sara said, "Is he always like this?"

"No, thank God," McCade replied with a smile. "He hasn't tried to kiss any of us. Anyway he's right about getting out of here. Say good-bye to your friends over there, and let's get going."

"Good-bye?" she said. "I can't just leave them here. They followed me. What if some of Zorta's troops come back? They wouldn't have a chance. No," she said firmly, "they'll just have to come along." Her face was set and determined. McCade had seen that expression before and knew trying to change her mind would be a waste of time.

For their part, the slaves stood patiently awaiting Sara's orders. There were about thirty of them representing perhaps a dozen races. As far as McCade could tell, they were all females, which made sense. No doubt Zorta kept his male and female slaves separated.

"All right," he said. "Tell them to follow us. Ven, what's the fastest and safest way to reach the air strip?"

After a moment's hesitation, the Lakorian replied, "There is a way, sire. It won't be comfortable, but I believe it will be safe."

As he followed Ven down the corridor, McCade had complete confidence in the alien's choice. After all, his greenish hide was on the line too. They turned into a hallway lined with metal carts.

"These are food and laundry carts, Sire," Ven explained. "They are sent from one level to another in these vertical conveyor shafts."

By way of demonstration he lifted a sliding door to reveal a shaft only slightly larger than the carts. Inset in the wall of the shaft were endless belts mounting metal arms climbing up and out of sight in eternal progression. Grabbing a nearby cart, Ven shoved it through the open door and into the shaft. It was smoothly engaged by the next set of rising metal arms and lifted out of sight.

Turning back to McCade, Yen said, "Your opinion, sire?"

"You were right, Sergeant. It isn't going to be comfortable, but it looks like a good idea."

McCade would have sworn Ven looked pleased in a sly sort of way.