Mutiny on Outstation Zori (9 page)

CHAPTER 8

"The Serrantic Harbingers tell us to live a simple, austere, contemplative life," the Messiah said.

"These clothes you've given me are about as simple and austere as you can get," Aura shot back. "And that goes double for your toy army. Who are you? I thought I was going to be taken to see the stations' Commander."

The small room was crowded with Zori residents. Aura felt mildly claustrophobic, but it could have been the result of her situation, rather than the environment.

The Messiah stood on a raised dais, like that used by the captain of a large ship to formally address the crew. This made the little woman positioned there seem tall and imposing. Small, frail, and with grey hair shot with streaks of coalsack black, the Messiah looked down from on high, her expression free of any lines of worry or concern. The skin on her face seemed almost translucent with age. Her thin hands rested together before her in the universal gesture of prayer. A grey robe, much lighter in color and texture than the prison uniform that Aura wore, hung from the woman's small shoulders.

"I am the leader of these people." The Messiah's voice was a quiet declaration. "They are not my army; they are faithful followers."

"Yeah, and I'm the Queen of Kishmer. What's happening here? I came to help you people and this is the thanks I get."

"You must first come to terms with your fear and self-doubt," said the Messiah of Izar. "We know who and what you are, Aura Devor."

Aura decided that the best tactic from this point on would be to do little or nothing. If they wanted more information, they would have to drug it out of her.

A broad-shouldered, bearded man, dressed in similar grey robes, stepped up to the Messiah and whispered into her ear. The old woman raised a hand to gesture him away, and stepped down from the raised dais.

For a second, Aura thought that her audience with this strange woman was over. Then she watched the Messiah bend slowly to seat herself on the dais steps, cupping her face in her palms. For the first time, Aura began to marvel that this diminutive person was the leader of an entire force of Imperium marines.

"I have dedicated my life to contemplation," the woman said, her eyes burning. "To asceticism. Do you know the word?"

For an instant Aura was reminded of her own mother. "It has something to do strictness and self-discipline."

The Messiah sighed. "Many people think as you do that Asceticism exists based on self-denial and sacrifice. But the truth is much simpler. Being a hermit doesn't mean abandoning the world around you. And being a monk doesn't mean that you can't be a part of life."

What's happening here?
Aura wondered.
We're onboard a commandeered Imperial outstation and we're discussing philosophy.

The Messiah continued. "You came out here like so many others to a great nothingness, seeking everything. You yearn for a new beginning. The same is true for all of us here." The Messiah struggled back to her feet. The bearded man assisted her. "We all want freedom and peace in order to be true to ourselves. And that is the true meaning of Asceticism."

The words hammered at Aura like travelers knocking at the door of her identity. It was true that she had come out here for vague, personal reasons. But the last thing she had expected to encounter was someone who would bring those reasons to the fore. Ignoring the physical reality of her captivity, Aura found that she wanted to know more about this unusual woman. She was tempted to test her own view of life against that of the Messiah of Izar.

Aura knew she could use her abilities to learn more. It would be easy to telepathically touch this old woman's consciousness.

The guards stood by, watching expectantly, as the old woman, accompanied her burly attendant, came forward. "My child," the Messiah said, cupping her hands before her.

Aura drew back, concentrating a mental impression toward the woman in the grey robes.

The Messiah paused, looking at her with a curious expression.

A terrible, searing pain burst in Aura's head. It was as if a million tiny high-speed drills bore into her brain. The shock of the pain threw her to the deck, whimpering in fear and submission.

The bearded man stepped forward, bending to bring her back to her feet. The man came between Aura and the old woman, as the pain vanished. In an authoritative voice, he instructed the guards to have Aura removed.

Firm, rough hands grasped her upper arms and turned her around.

"Place her temporarily in a mental cell block," the man said, as she was ushered quickly to the room's entrance.

Devor twisted her head as far as possible to one side, trying to get a last look at the Messiah of Izar. In her confusion, Aura could not decide if this woman was a religious leader, a political terrorist, or something much more imposing.

Then the corridor sped past in a blur. The blank wall of the lift tube appeared before her. Aura slowly became aware that her lips were repeating one unsettling word over and over like an oath or a prayer. The word was "Mother."

* * *

The Messiah watched the door slide shut behind the handful of troops and their captive. She turned calmly to face Ben Zurick. "It will take longer than originally planned, but I sense that this can be a great asset to the cause."

Ben bowed deeply and covered his mouth as he uttered a faint cough.

A smile touched the lips of the old woman. "There is something you wish to tell me."

Ben Zurick nodded faintly. "We have received faint signals from an approaching starship." His tone was almost apologetic. "I know you have instructed that we remain silent to the outside world, but this woman could be an advance scout of the Imperial force and—"

The old woman raised a hand to silence him. "I do not think she poses us a threat. Rather, I think we are a threat to her; she is troubled. We should leave her to respond in her time."

Zurick appeared mildly frustrated. "But the advancing starship?"

The Messiah moved toward a small door in one side of the podium. "Have Admiral Long look into it," she commanded over her shoulder. "I must rest now. Keep me informed of our progress."

"As you wish," Zurick said, bowing again, this time to the old woman's back as she turned and exited through the sliding door.

* * *

Kleg Karr's fingers flew over the keyboard of the programming unit, while Zaxt transmitted directly through a datalink into the
Dagger'
s motherbrain.

"Aura's going pay for this," the captain muttered under his breath. "She owes me for all this downtime." He glanced up with mild trepidation at the scrolling readout appearing on one of the ship's screens. In bright, bold, flickering numbers, it tabulated the approach of the Imperial starship.

"And to make matters worse," the captain continued, "I doubt we have enough power to maintain the ship's cloak much more than another hour." His fingers tripped over the keys, entering a string of commands into the Matulich drive. "Son of a tube! How many more processes, functions, routines and sub-routines have we got to go through before we can get this boat sailing again?"

Zaxt raised an elbow, allowing Karr to read his chestscreen.

"Oh, no," Kleg moaned. "We can't possibly cut it that close."

A field of static burst out of the ship's radio, taking the pirate by surprise. A bold, confident voice spoke across the vacuum: "Warning. You are approaching a restricted area. Outstation Zori reserves the right to control its environs. Do not proceed without proper authorization." The message repeated itself four times before Kleg turned down the gain. "Authorization from who," he wondered aloud.

"Whom," Zaxt corrected.

Karr scowled at the bot, and was gratified when he heard the word, "Sorry."

Kleg rose and checked the screen that displayed the countdown of the starship's approach.

Zaxt came to stand beside him. "Do you think they've caught on to us?" the bot asked.

"Nah. But they have changed tactics." He scratched at the white stubble that had grown on his chin since they had left Hyperion. "Must have spotted the Imperium's forces and decided to the diplomatic approach."

Again the radio hissed. A new message came into the cabin. "Attention Outstation Zori. This is Admiral Sam Sawyer of the Imperial Starship
Ironfist
. Advise at once your status and the meaning of your last transmitted message."

Kleg felt the skin on his face tighten. He stared out the forward port as if he'd seen a ghost drift past.

"What is it?" Zaxt asked.

"Sawyer," Karr said. The name hissed out like a curse.

"Yes," Zaxt repeated. "Admiral Samuel Sawyer."

Kleg sank slowly into the navseat where they had been working. "So now he's an Admiral," he said in wonder.

Zaxt rotated ninety degrees, looking down at the ship's captain. "You know this man?"

"Yeah, I know him, all right." He ran the fingers of both hands through his hair. "Only I wouldn't call him a man. He's more like a fungus or a slime. He has the depth of an oilslick."

"You don't like him."

"I hate him," Karr grimaced, coming to his feet. "Come on. Let's get back to work,"

They returned to the task at hand, but it wasn't more than a minute before the bot's curiosity seemed to get the best of him.

"Why do you hate—"

"Because he killed my family."

"Recently?"

"No, of course not. I was just a kid at the time. We lived on Newgate in the Eskion sector. Sawyer commanded a garrison there. He played wargames near the civilian homesteads while I was in town buying supplies. When I got home, they were all dead from the effects of a random sonic blast. The military said it was an accident, but I knew better."

"So, Admiral Sawyer doesn't know you personally."

"No," Kleg answered. "But I've been looking for an opportunity to make his acquaintance for a long, long time." His gaze was drawn back to the forward port. "And now it looks like I'm going to get it."

The radio kicked in again. "Attention Outstation Zori. You are instructed to respond to our previous message. If you do not respond in the next six hours, we will assume that your position is in jeopardy, and we will be forced take action."

"Come on," Kleg said, "We've got to transfer some of the power to the cloaking device."

"What? But I thought you wanted to get out of here."

"It just dawned on me," Kleg smiled, "that we've got a prime viewing site to watch a war between two Outstations."

"But, we can't let it escalate to that. Can't we stop it somehow?"

"Wouldn't want to. My own hidden base, Starheaven, is a lot like Zori. They're both very old and rumored to be artifacts left by the Harbingers. I'd like to see how Zori stands up to a massive attack. I just might learn something worthwhile."

"What if it turns out the other way around?" Zaxt asked. "What if the station takes out the
Ironfist
?"

"Works for me." Kleg felt the warm assurance of a man who can't lose. "Keep typing, Zaxy. A war's about to start and we've got a ringside seat."

CHAPTER 9

Jamie Clamber stood motionless beside the droptubes, nervously waiting for an empty compartment. When one finally arrived, he stepped aboard and rode it down past the barracks and docking bay module. The door slid open at one of the mid-levels and Jamie stifled a groan. The technician who had stumbled into him earlier came into the compartment and studied the tube's controls, obviously wondering how the empty elevator came to be programmed to continue down the tube.

Jamie froze, afraid to even blink. The tech looked up, as if he sensed something might drop on his head.

Jamie prayed he wouldn't sneeze again.

The man's brow wrinkled. He turned full circle inside the confining space, almost sniffing the air. The tech brought a hand up to his pursed lips, while staring directly into Clamber's left ear. His eyes widened and his face seemed to harden.

Jamie brought a rock-hard fist up to impact the man's chin. The tech's eyes wrinkled with pain and then clouded, as his knees buckled, his head struck the deck, and he lay quiet.

The tube door opened and Jamie stepped over the body, wondering if the man were mildly telepathic.
Maybe I've got bad breath.

Clamber quickly made his way back to the laundry, his mind a blur of conflicting thoughts. He knew for certain that the stealth suit's power would drop below operating level very soon now. He was unsure about how to recharge the suit and he certainly didn't want to magically appear out of nowhere and draw attention. There must be some way to remain safely on Zori without being conspicuous.

Despite the info Cast had given him—which still seemed far-fetched to say the least—Jamie only had a limited knowledge of the station's operation. And he'd learned only a little about its current political and military status. Furthermore, he lacked influence with the station's main computer, so any attempts to access datastores would quickly identify him as an intruder.

He had found Cast, yet that discovery wasn't anything like what he'd expected. His friend was alive and content, appearing to be safe but uninterested in returning to his past life. He didn't seem to be under duress; he just didn't want to be rescued. He also didn't seem right somehow, as if he had changed his mind...about things.

Jamie had also succeeded in locating the Esper Shadows, but that was a hollow victory, since it looked like Aura had been taken captive. The more he thought of it, the more he realized how drawn he was to this curious woman.
Perhaps she's messing with my mind.
Then, for a number of reasons, he hoped not. He genuinely liked Aura and wanted to help her. But how?

He needed a legitimate way to be present and operate on Outstation Zori; a way to fit in without drawing attention. Something like what Cast had; a way to become one of these people without...becoming one of these people.

Rounding a corner, he angled back into the laundry room. It was still deserted, but several of the cleaning units were in operation, so he knew someone had been here recently and could return at any time. He'd have to work quickly before a crewmember came back to check on their "delicate underthings."

Jamie rummaged beneath one of the tables and located the bag that contained his vac-suit. He shrugged out of the stealth suit and climbed into the vacuum suit as fast as possible, while still triple checking every seam and coupling. Then, he drew the stealth suit back on and kicked the empty bag into a corner.

He would have to exit through the maintenance port again, so he repeated the programming that authorized his access past the alarm systems. Minutes later, Clamber popped the outer hatch and stepped into emptiness.

Now came the tricky part. Jamie pulled the stealth suit tighter around him, studying the indicator on his sleeve that told him in which direction and how far he should travel in order to rendezvous with the
Silver Dagger
.

All he had to do was gather his courage and kick off into what appeared to be empty space.

That's all he had to do.

The muscles in his calves ached with cramping tension, while he debated the sanity of his next move. The datalink in his hand indicated that an alarm had again sounded within the station.
It must be caused by my opening the hatch. This time they'll check thoroughly, until they locate the cause. Guess I'd better get the hell out of here.

He pulled the datalink free from the station, set his jaw, and launched into the blackness.

It is a curious fact that you can hardly catch your breath when faced with the prospect of sailing through nothingness for all eternity. Jamie found a scream crawling up his throat. His hands wanted to reach for the mini-thrusters in his boots, which would spin him around and send him back toward the station, but his mind countered that urge.

Coldly, he ticked off the eon-like seconds, while concentrating on the sleeve indicator as if it held the secret of the universe. Perhaps, for him, it did.

The space around him blurred slightly as he entered the
Dagger
's cloak and the scoutship shimmered into sight only a few meters from his helmet.
Damn! The power field must be shrinking. The ship'll be fully visible in under an hour.

He activated the entrance to Karr's vessel and fought to keep from removing his vacsuit before the lock had fully cycled. Even a mild drop in pressure would seem a blessing compared to the nothingness of space.

As he climbed the ladder to the ship's cramped command center, Jamie found Kleg and the bot arguing, again.
Why am I not surprised?
Apparently, the two had been overhauling the ship's control circuits, which helped explain the weakened cloak.

Jamie saw a litter of program chips spread over the co-pilot's seat. Several screens on the helm flashed urgent messages in languages he'd never experienced.

The bot turned to greet him. "Mr. Clamber. It's good that you are back, sir."

"What's going on here?"

"The outstation is under an impending attack from an Imperial starship, and Karr will do nothing to stop it."

Kleg looked up, his eyes red from over work, or lack of sleep, or general irritation. "Where's Aura?"

Jamie explained that she was now a captive.

"Then what the hell did you go over there for? You were supposed to bring her back."

"I tried," Jamie answered, not quite telling the truth. He realized now that he could have attempted to creep up on Aura's guards, knocked them all out, and given her the second stealth suit. But what were the odds that anyone could pull off such a stunt and not get caught or killed? And why was Karr using such an accusatory tone? Jamie decided to counter the pilot's query with a question of his own. "What's this about an attacking starship?"

"Never mind that now." Kleg wiped his hands on his thighs. "That's my concern and I'll handle it. Did you find any signs of the missing Esper ships?"

"Yeah." Clamber still did not care for the man's tone. The suspicion that Kleg had been behind the destruction of Cast's freighter in FZ5 again crossed his mind. "You know, I'm getting a little tired of all this pushiness."

"So am I." Karr moved forward to look Jamie directly in the eye. "Don't forget that I'm the Captain and Pilot of this ship."

Zaxt said, "And vice versa."

"What I say goes. Whether
you
like it or not."

"Your attitude stinks, Karr. You're insensitive and self-important."

"Insensitive?" Karr licked his lips. "I've got news for you, pal. Deep down, everybody's insensitive in some way or another. They just pretend to be nice and considerate. The truth is I'm more honest than most people. And that's what's important. Remember that."

"There's nothing wrong with my memory," Jamie glared. "You said you were in FZ5 a year or so ago.

The spike-headed pilot blinked at him. "So? What does that have to do with anything?"

"I had a friend in FZ5 who was attacked from out of nowhere by an armed vessel that must have used a cloak like yours. The freighter he was piloting was cracked apart for no good reason and he was left to die."

Karr bared his teeth. "Are you accusing me of something, Clamber?" He brought an index finger up and pressed it hard against Jamie's chest.

The gesture was a final affront. Something had been growing inside Jamie and it needed to be let out. He brought his own hands up, grasped Karr's while bending forward, pressing the man to his knees. But the pilot shifted his stance, swiveling a hip beneath Jamie's center of gravity, cascading the two of them into the navigator's seat.

Data chips rattled to the deck. Jamie felt something hard slam into his back. His breath gushed out.

Kleg rose up above him like a cloud of white smoke. The pilot's fist drove down hard against the left side of Jamie's face, blurring his vision as his head hit the deck.

"Stop it! Stop it!" Zaxt cried.

From where he lay, Jamie saw the bot grasp Karr's shoulders.

"Stop it," Zaxt repeated.

Kleg spun around, raising a fist to pound against the mech's head.

They froze in that position for almost ten seconds.

Slowly, painfully, Jamie crawled up to his feet.

Zaxt said, "You are wrong, sirs. You are both wrong. I have checked the records for the time specified and verified that Mr. Karr was employed by Mr. Werch, in FZ20. It is highly unlikely—almost impossible—that he could have attacked your friend's ship in FZ5."

Karr lowered his fist.

Jamie's fury slowly dissipated.

"Perhaps the next time you decide to discuss matters in such a violent manner," the bot continued, "you will first consult me for relevant data, sirs."

"Damn, diplobot." Kleg ran a palm across the stubble of his beard.

Clamber felt little foolish, being socially counseled by a mechanical device, but he still had a strong desire to kick Kleg in the teeth. At the moment, he knew that would be a mistake. Not that he couldn't hold his own in a fair contest, but there were more pressing matters to attend to...for the time being, anyway.

"I want to know about the Imperial starship that's converging on us," Jamie breathed at the pilot and the bot. "As the ship's co-pilot, it's my right to be informed of potential tactical matters. From what I saw on Zori, the station won't give up without a fight."

Karr turned and grumbled, "There's nothing we can do about it. The
Ironfist
is on its way and loaded for action if it doesn't get a response in the next couple of hours. Quite honestly, I was considering waiting it out to see who survived the contest. Our power is draining, but now that I know that the Esper Shadow ships are onboard Zori, I wouldn't mind hanging around to see if the station wins. "

"And I wouldn't mind trying to save Aura one more time..."
And maybe even Cast
, Jamie thought, "...before the Imperial forces lay into the station."

Zaxt said, "That would be a very rewarding program."

"I don't see any gain in going back over," Kleg stated.

Jamie suddenly realized that, left to himself, the pirate was likely to do nothing. Karr was probably interested in salvage rights of whatever hardware was left after the battle. But by then, it might be too late for Aura.

"The Espers weren't the only thing I found over on the station," Jamie drawled. "I also uncovered a datavault full of transferable stock accounts."

Kleg took a deep breath. "Stock accounts," he repeated mild interest. "You mean like numberless stock accounts?"

Jamie continued to stretch the truth, providing a phantom incentive for the pilot's interest. Strictly speaking the technique wasn't completely honest, but who was to say things had to be fair? This was love
and
war. "It seems the Imperium wanted a secure holding vault for its private financial transactions," he improvised. "These are the kind of transactions you can take into any personal account."

Karr gnawed at his lower lip.

"Of course," Jamie went on, "the Imperium had a contingent of advanced military hardware stationed at Zori, as well, but—"

"Yes, yes," Kleg interrupted, "naturally so, in order to protect their investment."

"Naturally. So…."

Kleg wiped a hand across his face. Jamie thought he could see the greed mounting in the other man's eyes. "Listen, Clamber, you shouldn't have jumped me before. I've been under a lot of stress, what with the Qestan boys and all. How many—? I mean, how much...? What exactly do you want to do now?"

"Well, with the threat of a starship coming at them, the people in charge of Zori probably won't be too interested in us, in comparison. We might be able to approach them as possible allies who support or believe in their cause."

"I don't understand," Zaxt put in. "How can we prove to support their cause?"

Kleg appeared doubtful, too. "What
is
their damn cause? And what makes you think they'll accept us as allies?"

"Oh, ye of little faith," Jamie smiled, raising his palms. "Trust in providence to show the way."

Kleg pursed his lips and scowled.