Privateers (45 page)

Most of the men and women of the factory complex were gathered down in the smelter area where, ordinarily, raw ores from the Moon were melted down and separated into their constituent aluminum, titanium, silicon, oxygen and other elements. But now the smelters were cold and quiet, their huge maws gaping blankly, the conveyor belts that fed them unmoving.

The control center was a curving tube built above the big, blackened smelters. Row upon row of consoles and monitoring panels lined its length and wrapped themselves all around the circular inner walls, except for a long slit of a window that looked out on the smelters themselves. Built for zero-gravity operation, the control center contained no chairs at all, only occasional posts jutting out from the consoles, like perches for birds, where the technicians could roost and anchor themselves for a while. Dan hovered weightlessly in front of a set of display screens, like a man floating before a giant insect’s segmented eye. Behind him, half a dozen technicians watched the panels that now controlled the entire factory’s air, heat, electricity and communications.

Far down the long line of consoles, almost lost to Dan’s sight by the bend of the curving room, Lucita stood in front of a communications screen, her blue-jeaned legs wrapped around an anchor post. Dan could make out her father’s face in the screen, drained almost white, eyes bleary.

He put out a hand to steady himself as his body drifted slightly. Over his head, another set of screens showed the sight that he still found almost unbelievable: eight spacecraft, ranging in size from little flitters to big, delta-winged shuttles, converging on Nueva Venezuela. They bore the markings of the Pan-Arab Federation, Polynesia, the United African States, India and Japan: every space-faring nation or group of nations.

“A message for you, boss,” called one of the communications technicians, a woman. “It’s from the Japanese shuttle. Sorry I can’t switch it to one of your monitors.”

“That’s all right.” Dan pushed away from the monitors, which showed Malik entering the airlock that opened into the smelter pod, and let his body glide up to the communications screen. Looking down toward Kaktins, he said, “Take a couple of the biggest men you can find and search him thoroughly before you let him out of the airlock.”

Kaktins grinned and glided for the exit at the end of the control room.

Dan bobbed up to the big communications screen and blinked twice when he saw Saito Yamagata’s face beaming at him.

“I request the honor of docking at your factory complex, old friend,” said the Japanese industrialist.

“Permission granted,” Dan said immediately. “What the hell are you doing up here?”

Yamagata’s laughter rocked his head back and made his eyes squeeze shut. “I thought you would be surprised. When Nobo told me what was happening, I immediately embarked for Yamagata One, bringing a trained squad of security troops with me. I thought you might need help.”

“We can use all the help we can get. Thanks, Sai.”

“A pleasure.”

Dan briefed him quickly on what was happening, then ended the conversation and turned back to the TV monitors. Kaktins and two other men were escorting Malik from the airlock toward the control center.

He glanced back at Lucita, saw her still deep in talk with her father’s image. It could still all blow up in our faces, he told himself. We’re not out of the woods yet.

Malik looked grimly defiant when they brought him into the control center.

“You might as well surrender,” were his first words to Dan. “More Soviet troops are on their way.”

Taking him by the elbow, Dan turned the Russian slightly so that they were both facing the bank of communications screens.

“Look,” he said. “Spacecraft from every space-faring nation, heading here to help us. You’ve jammed our radio links with the ground, but we’ve been getting news from the other space stations, relayed by commsats over laser links. All hell’s broken loose down there. The General Assembly is going to meet in emergency session in another twelve hours or so. The chairman of the IAC has threatened to suspend the Soviet Union’s license to mine lunar ores if you don’t withdraw your troops from here. The government of Venezuela has protested your seizure of Nueva Venezuela and the killing of Venezuelan citizens.”

Malik’s face went gray.

“If I were you, I’d get in touch with Moscow and see what they have to say about all this.” Dan grinned his broadest, happiest grin.

“I know what they’ll say.” Malik’s voice was as heavy and dull as lead.

“Yeah. I think I do, too. You’re finished, Vasily. They’re going to throw you to the wolves. If they get the chance.”

The Russian’s brows rose a scant millimeter. “What do you mean by that?”

“You murdered twelve of my men. Good men. You ordered them killed, slaughtered without a chance.”

Malik’s handsome face broke into a crooked, bitter smile. “I see. And you are going to execute me. Like the sheriff in the Wild West.”

Dan shook his head. “You still don’t understand how we do things, do you? The sheriff just arrests the bad guys. A judge and jury tries him.”

“You’re not going to-”

“Yes, I am, pal. Right here. We’re going to pick twelve good people and true and try you for mass murder. We’re going to give you a fair trial. And then we’re going to hang you.”

Malik lashed out at Dan with both hands, blurringly fast, without warning. The force of the blows slammed Dan back against the communications console. Glass shattered and Dan felt a stabbing pain in the back of his neck. Kaktins kicked against the console and launched himself after Malik, who was pushing himself hand over hand along the rows of electronics gear past the startled technicians, toward Lucita.

The two smelter operators who had been with Kaktins stared dumbly, unsure of what to do. Dan grabbed one of the perch-poles and hurled himself after the Latvian, feeling blood trickling down his neck.

Kaktins grappled for Malik’s booted feet, but the Russian suddenly turned, the slim blade of a knife gleaming in his right hand, and slashed at Kaktins. Blood spurted and the Latvian howled with pain, doubling up.

“Lucita!” Dan shouted. “Look out!”

She turned from the screen just in time to see Malik rush up toward her, the reddened knife in his upraised hand.

“I’ll kill her!” Malik screamed. “If you come any closer I’ll kill her!”

Dan reached for Kaktins, who was clutching his shoulder and moaning.

“I thought you searched him, for Chrissake,” Dan growled.

The Latvian blinked pain-fogged eyes. “I thought I did, too.”

Dan pushed himself past Kaktins to confront the Russian. Malik was holding Lucita around the waist, keeping her in front of him, like a shield. He pressed the point of the knife against her throat. The other technicians had flown in the opposite direction, away from the danger. A couple of them pulled Kaktins back as Dan faced Malik and Lucita.

“I’ll kill her, Randolph!” Malik snarled. “I’ll kill her!”

Dan hovered weightlessly a few feet in front of them. Lucita was wide-eyed with shock, gasping, her hands gripping the Russian’s arm with white-knuckled intensity.

“It’s all right, Lucita. He’s not going to hurt you,” Dan said calmly. “It’s me he wants, not you.”

Malik’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“That’s right, isn’t it, Vasily? You don’t want to kill her. You want to kill me. Well, you’ll never have a better chance than now.” Lapsing into Russian, Dan said, “Come and get me, you cowardly son of a whore!”

With a strangled roar, Malik flung Lucita to one side and dove at Dan, knife first. Dan stretched one arm up, his fingers touching the panels overhead just enough to give him some traction, and pushed himself sideways to evade the Russian’s thrust. As Malik dived past, Dan kicked with both feet at his chest and face.

The Russian grunted and spun crashing into the consoles. Dan glided effortlessly between Malik and Lucita.

“You’re hurt,” he heard her say.

But he kept his eyes on Malik, and the knife still in his hand.

“I’m not a kung fu expert, Vasily, but I’ve fought in zero gravity before,” Dan taunted. “It’s been a long time, many years, but it’s like riding a bicycle: it all comes back to you when you try it again.”

Malik glanced over his shoulder. A solid mass of technicians loomed behind him, blocking his retreat.

“Come on, Vasily. Cut my heart out. I’m just as defenseless as the men you had murdered. I’m an old man, and you’re a trained expert in the martial arts. Right? You told me so yourself. So come and get me, shithead.”

Warily, cautiously, Malik advanced on Dan. He kept his left hand out, groping against the consoles for balance and support. Dan refused to move, refused to be maneuvered out of his position in front of Lucita.

Malik came closer. Dan hung motionless, his eyes on the knife. As Malik hunched himself together to launch another attack, Dan turned slightly, away from the knife, offering the profile of his body as a target. Malik lunged, but Dan sideslipped and wrapped his left arm around the Russian’s throat. Ramming both his knees into Malik’s spine, he yanked hard. The two bodies tumbled wildly in midair. Dan suddenly let go and grabbed Malik’s arm, twisting it and forcing the knife from his suddenly numbed fingers. Then, planting both feet solidly against the consoles, Dan launched a straight right fist against Malik’s jaw with every ounce of strength in him.

The crack of bones breaking sounded loud enough to make the others in the control center flinch. Dan felt pain shoot up his arm as Malik’s head snapped back and his eyes rolled up blankly. The Russian floated unconscious, arms lolling, jaw hanging open. Blood filled his mouth and drifted in tiny globules.

“Jesus Christ,” Dan muttered, grabbing for a handhold with his left hand and wringing his right. “I think I broke my double-damned knuckle.”

He saw the knife hovering, and reached out to take it with his good hand.

Lucita was suddenly at his side. “Don’t kill him, Dan! Don’t… .”

He laughed. “I’m not going to kill him. I won’t have to. His comrades in the Kremlin will do that. Breaking his jaw was good enough for me.”

Sudden understanding filled her eyes. “You provoked him into attacking you!”

He nodded sheepishly. “I didn’t stop to think he might threaten you, though. I’m sorry about that.” Throbbing pain made him grit his teeth. “Didn’t think I’d bust my hand, either.”

Lucita tried to frown at him. “You deserve it. For frightening all of us.”

Despite the Novocain and the plastic cast, Dan’s hand still throbbed. He was laughing, though, as he sat sprawled on the bunk of his utilitarian compartment aboard Nueva Venezuela and lifted a glass of amontillado with his left hand.

The little room was crowded with visitors. Saito Yamagata had just offered a toast to victory. Lucita, perched on the little plastic desk chair next to the bunk, looked radiantly happy. Dan ignored the others, men from half a dozen different nations, and reached out to touch his glass against hers.

“You have won a great victory,” Yamagata repeated.

The slim, gaunt-cheeked Egyptian colonel who was representing the Pan-Arab coalition nodded in agreement. “For the first time in thirty years the Russians have been forced to back down. A new day is dawning, I can feel it.”

Dan tried to shrug, but the movement sent a tendril of pain along his right arm. “We’ve won a battle-maybe. Not the war.”

“The battle has been won definitely,” Yamagata said. He was sitting on a stool commandeered from one of the workshops, next to the cabinet where Dan kept his meager supply of sherry.

The Indian representative, a tall, turbaned Sikh with a handsome curly gray beard, said in the deep, authoritarian tones of an experienced diplomat, “The General Assembly will insist that the Soviet Union pay reparations for this outrage. And the I AC will undoubtedly move to allow competition for lunar resources.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” Dan countered. “The Soviets won’t give up their monopoly on the Moon that easily.”

“At the very least,” the Sikh insisted, “the IAC will approve your claim of the asteroidal materials.”

“And allow future expeditions to collect more asteroids,” Yamagata added.

“Under IAC control,” Dan added.

“Of course. No nation should be allowed to claim ownership of a natural body of the solar system. And the orbit of such a body should be altered only after the IAC has approved of such a maneuver.”

Lucita asked, “What will happen to the Russians who are on their way to Dan’s asteroid?”

The Sikh frowned at her, whether because a woman had the temerity to interrupt the men’s conversation or because she granted a private individual ownership of the asteroid, Dan could not tell.

Yamagata answered, “They have been ordered by Moscow to return without altering the asteroid’s present trajectory. A UN mission will be sent to the asteroid within a few days.”

“They’ll claim possession of it,” Dan muttered.

The Japanese grinned at him. “Naturally.. But the materials of the asteroid will be available for mining by Astro Manufacturing Corporation-and its partner in the venture.”

Dan drained the last of his amontillado. “Do you really think,” he asked, “that we’ve gained anything? That we’ve broken the Russian stranglehold?”

“Yes!” Yamagata said immediately. “Definitely. We have opened up the solar system for all the nations of the world. You have done that, Daniel. We all owe you a very great debt of gratitude.”

“I’ll accept a small percentage of your profits,” Dan quipped.

Yamagata laughed. The Sikh raised his stern white eyebrows.

They chatted for what seemed like hours. Dan’s mind drifted, their voices became a blurred background, like the hum of electrical equipment or the soft lapping sound of waves at the beach. He was bone-tired. His eyes closed.