Into the Sea of Stars (24 page)

But that little guy would be vapor in fairly short order.

He reached over to a
comlink
board and got ready to
call in the command to activate a weapons battery. The mine kept shrieking out its warning and he suddenly realized that the last thing he needed was for that warning to be going on in the background. Some of his "priests"
were feeling a little uppity this time around, the way he
imagined the pope would feel if God showed up and tried
to take over the business. The last thing he needed was
for them to think there had been a screw up. First the
mine, then a couple of disabling shots.

"Warning, warning..."

"All right, shut up, damn it."

He examined the six numbered levers that were now
in the down position.
Simple enough.
He grabbed hold of
the last one and flicked it up.

"Congratulations, you have activated the final trigger.
If you wish to deactivate it, please check your service manual at once. To avoid accidents, be sure the manual
is the correct one for your model," the voice said cheer
fully. "We advise that you now leave the area. Ninety
seconds, eighty-nine, eighty-eight..."

Smith let go of the mine and it hovered in front of him.

"Oh, shit."

"Earthbound, Ian?"

"How long would it take,
Stasz
?"

"Six months seventeen days."

Ian did a quick calculation. That would put them in
ten days before registration for the fall semester. Perfect! He could throw together a syllabus and be ready to go.
Hell, for that matter they might even want him at Nouveau
Harvard after his exploits.

Ian looked around at the others. Smith's system was
ten billion kilometers behind them and the initial euphoria
over their escape was wearing off.

"What's wrong, Shelley? We could be back in time for
fall classes."

"Ian, I just remembered something."

"Yeah, what?"

"Did you file for a waiver from the mandatory recertification seminar?"

"The what?"

"Every third year all professors have to be recertified with six credits of education courses. The seminar was scheduled for the month after we left. You had to file
before we left."

"Damn it, Shelley, what are you talking about? Any
how, you're my assistant, you should have taken care it."

"I tried to tell you before we left. You had to file at
the Provincial Office in person, at the Dean of Education's
office."

"Hell, Shelley, they should allow me the waiver now. I can claim life experience. Damn, with all the data I'm
bringing back, I can finally get published! I might even
make it on the late-night videos. That should be worth
six lousy education credits."

"Sorry, Ian, this seminar was on proper use of forms and the motivation of athletics students. They won't let
you get a waiver."

"What the hell do you
mean!
"

"Ian," Ellen interjected, "
remember
the Chancellor said
we all had to follow proper channels."

"And I suppose you did."

"But of course," she said with a self-confident snicker.

"And you never bothered to remind me."

"You should know what's important in education. Your
certification is your problem, not mine."

He could see the triumph in her eyes.

"Ian, I hate to interrupt, but I'm picking up a faint
beacon. It's way the hell over toward the course for the
galactic core, several light-years out. But damn, is it pow
erful to get this far!"

Stasz
turned around in his seat and looked at Ian ex
pectantly.

Ian looked at Richard, but he was already out of it.
There was no sense in even asking Elijah.

He looked at Ellen and smiled.

"Well, Miss Certification, looks like you're going to
miss the next semester, as well!"

"Ian, you wouldn't!"

"I can tell you one thing I've read the paperwork on.
According to the grant, I'm in command of this ship so I
need not be democratic."

He looked past Ellen and gave a command that he had
long fantasized about.
"Full speed ahead,
Stasz
."

"Oh, by the way, Ian," Richard said while stirring from
his lethargic stupor, "can you explain what the hell this
is? Shelley said she picked it up in the corridor while you
and Smith were wrestling about in such a deplorable fash
ion. She gave it to me thinking it came from my late lamented drinking kit."

Richard held the alien artifact in his hand. Ian shot a
quick look over to Elijah, who sat silent, as if the object
were a mystery to him as well.

"Oh, it just fell out of my pocket," Ian responded lamely
as he rushed over to grab the most valuable artifact known
to Man.

"Curious looking."
Richard held it up for everyone to
see. "What the hell is this blue button for?"

"Don't!"

Too late! With an exclamation of pain Richard dropped
the rod after a flicker of flame shot out the opposite end.

Ian picked it up and nervously pressed the blue button.
An inch or so of bright blue flame shot out the opposite
end.

"Ian, what the hell are you doing with a cigarette lighter?" Shelley asked. "You don't even smoke."

"Oh, just saving the Earth with it," Ian said evenly.
He turned and walked out of the room.

A cigarette lighter, he had faked out the most powerful man in the universe with a goddamn alien cigarette
lighter—and his laughter echoed through the ship.

Alone in the main cabin, he punched into the ship's
computer and in fairly short order the first analysis came in on the beacon. It looked like
L-5 319
!

He remembered that one. Even as he started to call up the data he heard the scuffle of boots on the deck.

"Come on over, as long as it isn't Ellen."

He didn't look up. He was bent over the screen check
ing the data.

There was a faint smell of perfume. He looked around.

"Oh, hi, Shelley.
This is going to be a good one. This
is a unit I always wanted to meet. It's a bunch of
Tolkien
buffs. Know what that is? Why, they were people who loved a most interesting form of literature popular in the
twentieth century. Say, Shelley... Shelley."

He turned around. Good lord, she was undressing right
in front of him.

He tried to stammer a protest, but before he could form any words she had kicked aside the last of her cloth
ing to reveal a tight teddy.

"Shelley, w-why don't we talk about
319
?" Ian stam
mered.

"Let's not, Dr.
Lacklin
," she said softly. And, reaching
past him, she turned the machine off.

Ian thought about the flash they had seen just before
jump out, and wondered if it had taken Smith.

But then Shelley managed to drive that thought away, as well. Suddenly he realized that exciting as the voyage
had been so far, it was definitely going to get better.

William R.
Forstchen
, who makes his home in Oakland, Maine, was born in 1950. Educated by Benedictine monks, he considered the calling of the priesthood but decided instead to pursue a career in history. Completing his B.A. in education at Rider College, he went on to do graduate work in the field of counseling psychology.

William was a history teacher for eight years and currently devotes his time to writing, educational affairs and the promotion of the peaceful exploration of space. William lives with his wife, Marilyn, their dog,
Ilya
Murometz
, and Tanya the cat.

He recently led a group of fifty high school students to the Soviet Union which presented a resolution passed by the Maine State Legislature calling for a Soviet/American manned mission to Mars.

William's interests include iceboating,
Hobie
Cat racing, sailing, skiing, pinball machines, Zen philosophy, and participation in Civil War battle reenactments as a private in the 20th Maine Volunteer Infantry.