Sertian Princess (10 page)

The bug which he was using for this operation was a combination camera and microphone with a built-in miniature transmitter powerful enough to send the pictures to a recording device in his own cabin.  The camera had a fish-eye lens to cover as much of the room as possible and transmission was activated either by detected movement or noise.  The whole device was no bigger than a slim pencil and just fitted inside the hole in the partition wall.

He inserted it carefully so that it did not protrude into Jorgensen's cabin and then checked around the room to ensure that he had left no traces of his visit.  He let himself out cautiously into the corridor and locked the cabin door behind him.

Marienna was waiting for him when he got back to their cabin.

"Did you have any luck?" he asked her.

"Yes, but not for tonight.  We're sitting at the Captain's table tonight at the Captain's personal request.  As the purser had already sent tonight's guest list to the Captain for his approval, I thought it better not to make a big thing out of it.  But tomorrow night the purser has promised to seat us together."

"Tomorrow night's fine.  There's nearly three days before we reach Andes, so there's no particular rush.  Did you say the Captain requested our presence tonight?"

"Yes.  The purser didn't know why.  Apparently it's quite a signal honour.

"How did you get on with Jorgensen?"

"I've got his cabin bugged as far as I can.  It should come through to the monitor here.  We can afford to wait and see what happens for the next 24 hours anyway."

***

Dinner the next evening was a very different affair from the night before.  Then they had been seated in the centre of the dining room at the Captain's table along with 8 other of the first class passengers and had spent the entire meal fending off enquiries about themselves and their experience as space travellers.  As they had decided that their cover was blown anyway, they had quite deliberately not been overly skilful in evading the questions and were satisfied that, by the end of the meal, they had done little to dispel the air of mystery which apparently surrounded them.

Tonight though, the Purser had done as he had promised and arranged for them to sit at one of the few tables for four in a quiet alcove on the edge of the main dining room.  The two girls were travelling under the names of Neri Van Doren and Lynne Van Liederman from the old Dutch colony on Timet, and the cover story they had put about, as David and Marienna had discovered by discreet enquiry earlier in the day, was that they were the daughters of two of the leading families on Timet and that they had just finished College and were taking the Grand Tour in celebration of that fact.

The Grand Tour, of course, was not a pre-defined journey or set of places to visit, but was a generic term describing the almost infinite variety of such journeys which could be made.  It was another of those mysterious rituals which had their origins on Old Earth and which had now become adapted to the usage of a spacefaring race.  The Grand Tour was now used to mean a circuitous journey to view the local Wonders of the Galaxy; that is, those existing within the current sector of space and its immediate neighbours.  Of course, the more sights one managed to cram in, the Grander the Tour became.

In the local sectors of space, there were places of outstanding natural beauty such as the 17 moons of Ragen, which kept the oceans of that world in a state of constant tumult and which, once every 10386 years at the conjunction of all 17 moons, caused a wall of water over 1000 metres high to completely cover the main land mass; or the Crystal Mountains of Myrillion, the rising of either of whose suns caused a brilliant and ever changing display of lights which initially spread across the whole sky and then gradually withdrew towards the mountains as the suns continued to rise.

There were also places of great architectural beauty or historical significance.  Some were man-made such as the Imperial Winter Palace on Petrograd, or the Spacefield Shrine on Roanoke where it is said that the first of the great Colony Ships from Old Earth, crash landed.  Others like the tower of Ozymandias, were of alien origin.  Nobody had yet divined its purpose or even managed to penetrate its outer wall but, unlike its mythical namesake on Old Earth, it stood unchanging and apparently completely indifferent to the passage of time.

David and Marienna found that conversation over dinner required very little effort to sustain and the meal progressed very pleasantly.  The girls remembered them from the previous day in the Astrodome Bar and once they discovered that David, in particular, had travelled very widely in most sectors of the Galaxy, he was kept busy reciting anecdotes of his experiences.  It was easy after that to suggest that they should adjourn to one of the quieter lounges nearby and continue the conversation.

"It's funny, you know," he remarked, once they were settled comfortably.  "I once knew a little girl called Neri.  She'd probably be about your age now.  But she was a little princess; of a place called Serta."

He stopped and there was a long period during which nobody spoke.  He kept his gaze levelled on Nerissa and watched as the surprise in her eyes was followed by recognition, then anger and then nothing.  It was an impressive show of control, he conceded.  When she spoke, however, there was a distinct lowering of the ambient temperature.

"I seem to remember that you weren't plain Mr. Held in those days," she said.

"Nor am I now: but who travels under their real name nowadays?" he replied.

"Touche."  She turned to Lynda.  "Lyn, allow me to present our friends here under their true colours; Lord David Held of the House of Held and.... is it Lady Held?"

"Let's just leave it as David and Marie for now, shall we?"

"No, let's not."  The anger flared again.  "I presume that, as you have sought me out, you must have something to say.  So say it and let's have it over with.  Why has my father sent you?"

"Your father did not send me.  I have not spoken to him in over 15 years and he does not know I am here.  Nor shall I be reporting back to him on your whereabouts, although it would be understandable if he was somewhat concerned."

"Then why are you here?  Surely you're not going to tell me that it was pure chance."

"No, I wouldn't be so foolish as to try.  But I'm afraid that it's a little more serious than just a father searching for his runaway daughter, even if she is a princess.  Evidence is mounting that your father, and Serta itself, are in some considerable danger.  The Federation of Vostov has been casting covetous eyes at Serta for some time now, seeking to control the trade routes in this Sector.  You are, of course, aware that Wolfram, the former Duke of Gan and uncle to the Lady Lynda, has risen to the rank of Counsellor to the President of Vostov.  He would dearly love to get back at your father and knows the strengths and weaknesses of Serta intimately.

"We have received reports of increased naval activity at the Vostovian bases nearest to Serta.  It is feared that Vostov may make an attempt to kidnap you in order to limit your father's response when the Vostovian Navy moves in."

"That's ridiculous.  They wouldn't dare," Lynda broke in.  "Besides, how would they find us?"

"I found you," he replied simply.  "If I can do it, so can they."

"How do we know that?  How do we know that any of this is true?"

"Wait a minute," Nerissa came back into the conversation.  "Let's stay calm.  Lord David, you spoke just now of evidence.  What evidence do you have?"

"None that would stand up in a Court of Law," he admitted ruefully.  "But, before we go into that, can I just ask you how your journey has been so far.  Have there been any little unexplained happenings or has it all been completely uneventful?"

The two girls looked at each other.  "Well," Nerissa began, and for the first time, looked slightly doubtful.  "There was this man on Timet who we were sure was following us.  For two days, everywhere we went, he turned up too.  He was a nasty, weedy little man: a bit creepy really.  Anyway, we'd met a couple of boys who were going to ferry a yacht across to New Holland, so one day, we lost Daddy's pathetic little agent down in the flea market and hitched a ride out of there on this yacht."

"I assure you, Princess, that man was no agent of your father."

"We only have your word for that," Lynda cut in again.

Ignoring her, he continued to address Nerissa.  "Have there been any other incidents?"

"There've been a couple of times on the Aldebaran when we were sure we were being watched.  But that could have been you, of course."

"Was that before or after Floreat?"

"Both."

"We only boarded at Floreat.  Anything before that was certainly not us."

"I don't quite see where all this getting us," Nerissa said coldly.

"Neither do I," Lynda threw in.  "He'll have us jumping at our own shadows next."

"I tend to agree with you, Lyn, but let's look at this objectively."  She turned back to David.

"You've spun a tale of power politics that sounds so incredible that I suppose it might just be true.  But, although you've spoken of evidence, you actually have no evidence at all with which to back up your tale.  Instead, the most you've been able to do, is to take some recent events, which may have been totally innocent, and attempt to put a sinister interpretation upon them.

"But all of this is just the preamble.  You have not yet come to the point.  What is it that you want of us?"

"I could dispute with you the objectivity with which you have summed up the situation," he replied.  "But I will not.  I do believe, however, from everything that I have learnt so far, that Serta is in some considerable danger and that the key to the situation, Princess, is yourself.  What I want, is for you to leave the Aldebaran with us at Andes and I will provide you with a fast and secure trip back to Serta aboard my own ship, the Salamander."

"And if I refuse?  Will you kidnap me also?"

"No, Princess, I will not kidnap you.  That is not my way.  What I will do is to stay in the background and try to thwart any kidnap attempt that is made on you."

The anger blazed forth from her eyes again although her voice remained frosty.

"Lord David, you presume too much.  I do not believe this fairy tale you have been spinning here.  We shall return to Serta in our own good time.  We have escaped from the discipline of my father's court to have some time to ourselves.  I will have to be a Princess again when I go back, but for now, I am just plain Neri Van Doren and you will not frighten me into going back early with all your tales of war.

"So I shall not be leaving the Aldebaran with you at Andes although, if you have your own ship there, it would be distinctly preferable if you would join it.  If, however, you choose to remain on board the Aldebaran, then stay the hell out of my sight because if either of us see you or your girlfriend again, I shall tell the Captain that you are a talent scout for a white slave trader.

"Come along, Lyn."

With that both girls stood up and stormed out of the lounge.  When they were gone, David turned to Marienna.

"Well, that was quite an exit.  Not totally unexpected, though.  I liked that touch about the white slave trader."

"Hm, the Lady Lynda appeared surprisingly hostile," Marienna observed.

"So she did, Marie, so she did.  I think we might benefit from a little more background on the Lady Lynda.  Send a message to Sam.  Ask for details of all contact between Lady Lynda and her uncle and an assessment of her vulnerability to manipulation.  It may be that she is being used, either willingly or unwillingly, as his tool.

"Meanwhile, I guess we'd better stay out of the ladies' way for a day or so."

CHAPTER 10

At that precise moment, the Vostovian frigate Ragnar carrying the former Duke of Gan, was slowly easing into a parking orbit around the innermost planet of Parm.  The Ragnar was the latest addition to the Vostovian fleet and was the equal, in speed and armament, of any frigate in the Imperial Navy.  They had made the trip from Vostov at their top cruising speed and had comfortably beaten the previous record for the journey.

Now, as the Ragnar, under the direction of Parm Space Traffic Control, slid slowly past the outer defence screens of the planetary system, the Communications Centre on board was a hive of frantic activity as the multitude of communication links which Grey Wolf demanded, were hastily re-established.

"This is a frigate, a fast escort and attack craft," Captain Siccardes complained, not for the first time.  "She's not designed to be a floating Command Post."

"My dear Captain."  Wolfram spoke with infinite patience.  "We have been all through this before.  A Command Ship could not have got me here in time.  Indeed, I doubt whether any other ship in the Fleet could have got here as fast as the Ragnar.  Besides, all the Command Ships are in position, ready for the attack on Serta."

"Which we will miss, because we're stuck here at Parm."

Wolfram sighed.  "No, my bloodthirsty friend, you will not miss out on the action.  If all goes according to plan, then you will be released in time to join the attack on Serta.  And if it doesn't go according to plan, then I will have need of your speed and power right here."

"Excuse me, sir."  One of the junior Comms Officers came up and saluted.  "A signal came in for Grey Wolf as soon as we reopened the comms links.  You can take it on that terminal over there, sir."

Grey Wolf nodded his thanks and walked over to the terminal.  He tapped in his identification code and placed his palm against the sensor for verification.  After a brief delay, the screen cleared and the message flashed up.

"To: Grey Wolf.  From: Alpha Leader.  Alpha 1 in position and waiting.  Alpha 2 due to arrive in six hours.  No contact from Beta group yet.  Aldebaran shuttle due liftoff in 35 hours."

He cleared the screen and turned away, thinking furiously.  The Alpha group would be assembled and ready in time, but where the hell was the Beta group.

"Take a signal," he ordered the Comms Officer.  "To: Beta Leader.  From: Grey Wolf.  Imperative you report status and position, immediately.  Repeat, immediately."

The young officer hurried away and he turned back to Captain Siccardes.

"Captain, how much longer will we be manoeuvring out here?  I want to get down to the planet's surface."

"Well, strictly speaking, you should wait for the music to stop before you leave the dance, but if you're really in a rush, I can request clearance from Parm Control and have my barge take you straight down if they agree."

"Yes please.  Make the necessary arrangements.  And keep me in touch while I'm down there.  Relay all messages to the Chancellor's Office.  Is that understood?"

"Yes, Counsellor."

***

The system of Parm was a simple and uncomplicated one in cosmological terms.  There were three planetary masses orbiting a fading red giant that had obviously seen better days.  Radiation output from the star had fallen to such an extent that only the innermost planet was habitable and in Galactic terms, the system had only a very limited life span ahead of it.

However, the fact that in a relatively few million years, their sun would finally collapse into itself and turn their entire planetary system into a black hole, did not deter the original colonists of Parm, nor the hundreds of thousands who subsequently followed them there.  For in traces on the inner two planets, and in vast deposits on Parm III, they had found Biridium, an essential element in the manufacture of the type of lightweight armour commonly used for spacecraft.

With energy weapons of all types preeminent in deep space naval engagements, it became vital to develop an armour, which, in addition to its normal properties, would dissipate the incoming energy over the whole surface of the ship, rather than let it concentrate on one particular area of the hull.  There were many compounds available which were superconductors at the temperatures normally prevailing in deep space, but most of them rapidly lost their superconductivity as the temperature rose even a few degrees.  The result was that, the more energy which hit a ship, the less effective its armour became.

Biridium, however, changed all that. Using small amounts of Biridium, armour could be constructed which retained its super- conductivity across temperatures ranging from near absolute zero to well above normal room temperature.  Unfortunately, until the discovery of Parm, Biridium was in exceedingly short supply and, even now, Parm is one of only three sources able to supply it in significant quantities.

News of the discovery of Biridium on Parm caused a massive influx of prospectors, miners and mining engineers, all seeking their fortune in the ground.  Close on their heels came the traders and entrepreneurs, all seeking their fortune by supplying the prospectors, miners and mining engineers.  Certainly, many individual fortunes were made, lost and made again in those early days before the big trading companies moved in and stitched it all up between them.

The situation was stable then for a long time, until, in the midst of the Canine Insurrection, a group of mercenaries took control of the entire planetary system and rebuilt its space defences to a state of virtual impregnability.  When the confusion died down, the Trading Houses found that their stranglehold on Parm had been replaced by a different and even tighter grip.  The Barons argued loudly and bitterly that the Emperor should send in the Navy and restore trade on normal i.e. their terms.  But many of them had compromised themselves badly during the Insurrection and the Emperor was not well disposed towards them.  When the announcement came of the discovery of the third source of Biridium, well within Imperial control, the Emperor simply turned his back on Parm and ignored it.

The mercenaries settled down in Parm and elected themselves to the Ruling Council.  They were wise enough to take over the Administration intact so that life for the inhabitants of Parm, continued much the same.  Trade with the Empire fell right away, of course, but there were plenty of other willing buyers of Biridium, and the economy continued to prosper.  Just to keep their hand in, they indulged in a little piracy in the local space lanes, but not so much as to draw the wrath of the Imperial Navy down on their heads.

Secure behind their defence screens and with control of the supply of a strategic mineral, the new rulers of Parm had no pressing need for allies.  They received many overtures from the rulers of the neighbouring Systems but rejected them all except Vostov.  Even that was a loose alliance.  Vostov needed Parm for its Biridium much more than Parm needed Vostov.  Nevertheless, each felt a certain kinship to the other, partly because of the similarity in their style of decision making and partly their preference for direct action.  Over the years, they combined on several joint ventures which proved profitable to both, and the proposed attack on Serta was the latest of these.

The Chancellor of Parm and Chairman of the Ruling Council was Colonel Dak Hendrick, the grandson of the original mercenary leader, and it was to his office in the main Administration complex, that Wolfram had himself shown as soon as he landed.

"Ah, Counsellor.  I was told you had arrived."

"Colonel Hendrick.  Thank you for receiving me so promptly."

"Not at all.  I appreciate that there is some urgency in your mission.  You certainly made good time getting here."

"Yes, indeed Colonel.  The Ragnar has quite a turn of speed."

"So I understand.  I should like to take a closer look at her, while she is here; if you will permit, of course."

"Certainly, Colonel.  We should be honoured.  I shall ask the Captain to make the arrangements with your staff."

Wolfram knew full well that Parm had nothing to match the Ragnar and that, rather than just a tour of inspection, the Colonel would dearly love to take over the ship; lock, stock and barrel.  He felt reasonably confident that the Colonel would make no overtly provocative move before the operation against Serta was concluded, but he made a mental note to warn Captain Siccardes to be on his guard.

"Thank you, Counsellor.  Now before we get down to business, there are some messages waiting for you.  You may use my console."

There were two messages for Wolfram.  One was from the Beta group leader: they had been delayed on their way to Andes but would still rendezvous with Alpha group in time to catch the Aldebaran shuttle.  The second message was much longer and contained a full report of the incident at Floreat spaceport.  Wolfram read it through carefully, his face darkening visibly as he did so.

"Not bad news, I trust," enquired Colonel Hendrick, who had been observing his visitor closely.

"Not good news, but not totally unexpected either," Wolfram replied cautiously.  "It seems that the Centre has already managed to get one of its top agents onto the Aldebaran.  Well, we knew they would try, so that's hardly a surprise.  However, one of my people on Floreat recognised this man and, acting on his own initiative, tried to take him out of the game."

"Tried?  I take it that means he failed."

Wolfram nodded.  "So now, we not only have an agent of the Centre on board but he will have been alerted to the fact that he has been recognised."

"What is the name of this agent?"

"Held.  Lord David Held."

"Hmm.  I've heard of him.  He will cause trouble for you if you're not careful."

"That's why we're using two groups on the Aldebaran.  The sole responsibility of Beta group is to neutralise any opposition.  I'll send them the details of this Lord David Held, before they board the shuttle."

"And the other group:  what's their role?"

"Alpha group has two objectives.  Their first and prime objective is to secure the person of the Princess.  Their secondary objective is to take control of one of the lifeboat stations and launch the lifeboat so that we can pick them up with the Princess."

"What if anything goes wrong?  What's the contingency plan?"

"That's where you come in.  If they fail to escape in one of the lifeboats, then their orders are to use the Princess as a hostage and barricade themselves in a cabin until we can get them out.  That will require an act of piracy on your part.  The Aldebaran will have to be boarded and you will have to take control of the ship."

"That's easy to say.  The Aldebaran is several times bigger than anything we've tackled before.  She must have a crew of over a thousand."

"Fifteen hundred, actually.  But you won't have to deal with them all.  Think, man.  You've tackled ships like this before.  Not so large, maybe, but the principle's the same.  Take control of the key points and you've got the ship.  Take the bridge, the engine room and the life support control centre: probably you'll only need the life support system.  Threaten to cut that off and they'll fold.  They'd never get 1000 passengers suited up in time."

"It's still a hell of a risky operation.  There'll be casualties.  And what's in it for us?"

"The Princess.  You know we must have the Princess before we can move against Serta.  But if you want a sweetener, think of the strongroom.  A liner of that size, with 1000 passengers on board.  There must be some tidy pickings there."

Wolfram could see the other man's face brightening as he turned over the possibilities in his mind.

"That's true, of course.  And if we should accidentally damage the engine room, then she would be stranded.  There's a Salvage Company we sometimes deal with on Quental, who might be persuaded to have a deep space tug in the vicinity.  The salvage value of a liner like that, would run into billions.

"I'll get my operations staff to have a look at the possibilities. Do you have the plans of the Aldebaran?"

"They're in the Ragnar's central computers.  I'll have them sent down to you."

The communications console on the Chancellor's desk beeped at them urgently, signifying that there was a priority message waiting.  Colonel Hendrick strode over to the desk and studied the screen.

"It's for you," he said.  "From Vostov."

Wolfram identified himself to the console and the message was displayed on the screen.

"To: Grey Wolf.  From: President, Vostov.  Priority Red Message Starts  Reports coming in of corvette Cleopatra believed despatched to your area from Star Base Runnymede.  Mission objective unknown.  Sabotage of main weapons systems attempted.  Success unknown.  Priority Red Message Ends."

Colonel Hendrick, who had been looking over Wolfram's shoulder, pursed his lips and whistled tunelessly.

"Well, that changes the situation somewhat; if the Imperial Navy's involved."

"On the contrary, Colonel, there's no need to change anything.  We don't even know for certain that this corvette is heading this way and, if she does show up, the Ragnar can deal with her, leaving you to concentrate on the Aldebaran.  The Ragnar is more than a match for any corvette even if her weapons systems are working."

"But if we attack one Navy ship, they'll send a Task Force to the area."

"Maybe, but not in time.  If this corvette is coming from Runnymede, she can't possibly reach this area for several days yet.  If then, we don't take her out until the last possible moment, the Naval High Command could never respond in time.  A large part of the Imperial Navy is occupied in chasing Rigellian shadows.  By the time they get any reinforcements to this area, we shall be in Serta, and you will be safe behind your defences again."