STAR HOUNDS -- OMNIBUS (36 page)

“Fine. I do enjoy chats!” He turned his head toward Lasster. “By the way, how are you, Chivon? You look good. Haven’t changed much, I think.”

“I don’t think that’s quite the kind of chat Friend Zarpfrin envisions,” said Lasster, voice heavy with sarcasm.

“No, I must say it is not. Mostly I want to have an intelligent discussion before that is … uhm, impossible.” Zarpfrin’s eyes lingered a moment on the overhead instruments. “I want to know just exactly what you’re about, Northern. What’s making you do these traitorous things after such an exemplary career with the Federation? Just for my personal benefit, mind you. I’d like your version of what makes you tick.”

Northern seemed taken aback. Then he grinned. “I keep on forgetting. You think you’re the good guy, don’t you, Zarpfrin?”

“I hardly ascribe to that title, Captain. I recognize myself to be an ambitious individual.” A fire began to smolder in the man’s eyes. “But I do work for the greater good of mankind, Tars Northern. Never forget that! And if that means stamping out traitorous rebels like yourself, then I am only too happy to dirty my boots.”

“The greater good of the Federation, you mean,” Northern spat. “The greater good of your particular cultural and governmental system, you mean. The greater good of the power you wield.”

“Northern, you know as well as I that humanity faces a challenge,” Zarpfrin said in low tones. “A challenge of far-ranging consequence.” He made a broad sweeping gesture. “There are civilizations out there in the galaxies, far more advanced than ours, civilizations that have survived and conquered simply because they have served a common purpose—total allegiance to their species! We are not ready to face those mighty civilizations yet! And therefore we must somehow group together again—all of humanity—into a common force dedicated to technological and mental progress. We must unite again as humans for the good of humanity before another civilization comes and squashes us and makes us its slaves. This is the threat we face with the Jaxdron. Thus far we have been successful in dealing with them, but we must be ready to deal with more powerful civilizations than the Jaxdron. And the more divided humanity is, the easier it will be for us to be conquered.”

“The ends justify the means once more, eh?” said Northern. “But surely you realize, Zarpfrin, the possibility that your vision is simply a xenophobe’s view? I mean, there may always be another civilization out in the blue yonder that is stronger than the Federation, but why should that mean they want our little bit of space? I’m sorry to disagree with you, old fellow, but I am too strongly in favor of individual freedom and human choice to sacrifice it for your so-called greater good.” He glanced toward Lasster. “But you’re speaking very freely! I presume you’ve told Chivon the real reason why you want the
Starbow
so badly.”

Alarm grew on Zarpfrin’s face, then he quickly squashed it. “She knows that the intelligence upon that ship is a threat to humanity. She knows what a pain you have been to the Federation and its goals and is aware of your activities in aligning rebel efforts against the Federation.”

“Ah! But does she know about Dr. Mish and his portal!” He turned to Lasster. “That’s why old Zarpy is so paranoid about the
Starbow
and Mish, you know. That’s how he found out about other—”

Zarpfrin struck Northern across the face. “You are a troublemaker to the end, aren’t you Northern? Friend Lasster, there are elements to this that aren’t in your knowledge … that I have been unable for security’s sake to relate to you. Now that we are in endgame with Captain Northern, I shall debrief you fully later.”

“Oh, sure, Zarpfrin. You’re going to admit practical genocide of an ancient, almost holy race, are you?”

“Holy?” Zarpfrin said. “Surely an out of date word, Captain. Now I shall give you one more chance to volunteer to help us in locating the
Starbow
or I shall be forced to dig the information from your brain!”

“Get out the pick and shovel, Zarpfrin.”

A security officer entered, and whispered something in Zarpfrin’s ear.

Zarpfrin smiled and nodded.

“Excellent,” he told the officer. “I will go with you.” He turned to Lasster. “Please prepare the prisoner for interrogation. I shall be back within the hour. You may tell Friend Lasster what you please, Captain. She is a loyal and trusted member of the Friendhood.”

He spun on his heel and left, after which a deathly silence engulfed the room. Lasster stood frozen, her gaze riveted on Northern’s smiling face. He didn’t budge. His arms pinned him spread eagled to the wall.

“You know, Chivon,” said Captain Northern, looking at Lasster with soft eyes. “Have I every told you how adorable you look before torturing someone?”

L
aura Shemzak thought she was ready for anything.

But not for this.

When she had split off from Tars Northern in the hallway, she had immediately headed toward the Heart Computer a good distance away. When she used the slidewalks and the railcar and the elevators to get there, her principal worry had been that someone would recognize her from her last stay here. But they did not—either that, or Governor Bartlick had failed to report her activities to the security section.

That would make sense. She was a high-priority Federation agent. She had been sent there to test the security system for access to the Heart Computer. Naturally, the Governor would not be eager to broadcast the fact that she had succeeded in penetrating it.

She was ready for added security precautions, though. She was surprised to find that the setup was exactly the same as when she had last been here! Talk about lack of efficiency!

Good thing she wasn’t working for the Feddies anymore, she thought as she made her way down toward the guarded area. She’d kick some butts, that was for sure!

Still, the lack of change made the process of getting into the core that much easier, and she couldn’t complain about that!

Even as she slipped down the deserted corridor, she inwardly checked the fine tuning of cybernetic controls that would allow her to pick up all sensor sweeps, hack into secure systems for authorization codes, and request up-front clearance for all secure combands.

Thus she successfully made her way past the first barrage of security measures. She handled the robots at the checkpoints in a like manner. It wasn’t until she reached the next to last guard that she had a little difficulty.

The guard was human. And he recognized her!

“Hello, Ms. Googoo!” he said, flashing a smile. “What are you doing down here?”

She blinked. Her memory raced. Who was this guy? He was very attractive, but her mind was drawing a complete blank.

And then she remembered. As a guard while doing undercover work as a biotech specialist at Pax Industries, he had flirted with her several times. Nothing had ever come of it. Still, she couldn’t remember his name.

He helped her out. “Mike Moshon, Ms. Googoo, don’t you remember?”

“Oh yes. Mike. How are you?” God that sounded inane!

“Surviving. How are the folks back in biotech? I don’t see them much.”

“Fine. Just fine. We don’t get down here much. Not much call for it.”

“Yes. Not exactly your area, is it? I mean, you can access what you need.” His sharp features tilted a bit, assaying. “But you didn’t come down here to see me, did you, Ms. Googoo?”

“Oh yes, I suppose you want to look me over—I mean … want to look at my authorization band.”

“Well, the latter is my job,” he said, grinning at her flirtatious slip up.

Apparatus raised from the top of the desk at the touch of Moshon’s finger.

Laura had to steady her nerves. This machine was new, and she could sense her inability to deal with it. Nonetheless, her intuition told her to stick her left hand with her fake ID band around its wrist through the metal hoop. She did her best to alter the signal, and supply them with what they needed, then immediately pulled her arm back.

Moshon looked up from the readout screens. “Fine. But what are you going to do down there?”

“Supposed to meet up with one of the technicians and advise him on a tricky relay. Kind of stuff we know about.”

Moshon smiled. “Fine. How about dinner sometime?”

She smiled at him. “Sure. I’ll check with you when I get back.”

She casually strode past the station with a mock salute. Whew. That was easy. Almost too easy. But then again, guys like him were fairly easy to manipulate. She shrugged it off and readied herself for the next hurdle.

The final station was guarded by one of the Conglomerates. Exactly why they were being created—an activity expressly against the genetic laws of most planets—was still a mystery to her. She suspected it was an attempt by the Federation to perfect the human race, now that Northern had filled her in on the bit about the quest for progress.

Still, these things were hardly human ….

This was a subject of a sensitive nature to Laura Shemzak, what with her own cyborg additions. Just how human was she? Just what defined the parameters of belonging to the human race?

She certainly felt human enough, so she always supposed that was the only necessary criterion she needed. But still she felt doubtful and defensive when her differences were pointed out. She often wished she was like everyone else; but then she remembered the joy of being different, and perhaps, in many ways, better.

The thought gave her a much-needed spark of self-confidence. Her gait down the hallway grew jaunty even as she remained tuned for possible identification sweeps that might be focused upon her.

She detected none.

In a minute, she approached the final desk, and sure enough, there was a Conglomerate parked at the entrance to the core computer banks. It resembled the other one, but was different. Each of the Conglomerates, it seemed, was a different combination of human, alien, and artificial elements. This one had no antennae and was much shorter and squatter than the one she had so deftly dealt with. Surely everything would be just as easy—her unique qualities made it possible for her to insert the creature’s set of identity wires and jack them into her own system, allowing her access to the core.

She stepped lightly up to the Conglomerate, whose eyes snapped to attention. All she had to do now was to figure out how to get to the creature’s control plate, deliver the necessary burst of electricity to render it unconscious, and then snap on its ID wires.

“Your presence is acknowledged,” said the creature in a peculiar polyharmonic voice. “Access to core clearance code effected from previous station. Access granted.”

A long, oddly-jointed digit tapped a number of buttons, and the door to one side of the wall slid open.

Laura blinked. “Uh … ”

“Please hurry. Door remains open for only fifteen seconds.”

Her intuition suddenly told her to start running the other way. It told her something was terribly wrong here. But she had a mission, an important mission she had promised to complete, so she overrode the intuitive urge to bolt and stepped through into the next corridor.

The door slid closed behind her.

The walls of the corridor were in a pattern of tile-like panels. Automatically, she retraced her path to where she had tapped the central core the last time, extracting a large partition of binary data.

Quickly she found it and unscrewed the panel. It was just as it had been last time. Although no traps were apparent, she was on guard.

This was just too simple.

Hit it and run, she told herself, laying open segments of her skin to hook up with ports she pulled out from her neural interface array. She would be much too fast for any alarms to go off.

She jacked in.

Again, her mind seemed to float through an immensely complex three-dee landscape of data and secure applications. Like whirling through an asteroid field, she hunted down what she needed: more evidence of Jaxdron activity here, what its exact nature was, and information about these warlike aliens.

Suddenly, her mind hit a block and she was brought up short.

She tried to shut the connection off immediately but could not—something more powerful than her mind kept her glued in place, like a bug on flypaper.

She heard a voice. “Welcome back, Laura,” it said. “We do hope you can linger a little while. We have things to speak to you about.”

Just before unconsciousness overcame her, Laura realized who that voice belonged to.

It was the voice of Friend Arnal Zarpfrin.

S
he slapped him.

After a moment of shock, he recovered and showed surprise. “That’s really not at all like the unemotional, always controlled Chivon Lasster I used to know,” said Tars Northern.

She took a deep breath, looked around to see if anyone was watching, then said, “There are some things that have changed indeed, Tars.”

“And so, are you to be in charge of my mind-rape, my love?” he said tartly. “Or would you prefer to start with a physical one, and work your way up to that?”

“No. Something a little more surprising is in store, I think.” She walked up to the controls of his bonds, and coded them off.

Northern couldn’t hide his shock. He stood before her, rubbing the circulation back into his hands, “Uhm … actually I was jesting about that, I didn’t think you’re still—”

“Shut up!” She hissed, “We have to get off this planet and back to the
Starbow
.”

“Wait a moment,” he said. “You’re a bad guy.”

“I don’t have time to argue. Here. Put these handcuffs back on. I have a gun. I’ll tell any security folk who ask that I’m transferring you to another interrogation area.” She tossed him the cuffs. “You don’t have to lock them. And here’s your needler back, in case we need it.” She slipped the weapon in his hip pocket, keeping it there a few moments. “It’s fully loaded. Now do you believe me?”

“But how are we going to get back to my ship?”

“I have a personal starship I came in. Remember, I’m a pilot myself.”

He stared at her, not moving. “This is a trick to get me to reveal where the
Starbow
is,” he stated flatly.

“I can see how you would believe that, Tars. And I understand why you wish to protect your ship and crew. But believe me, I shipped from Earth expressly to find you and join you. And I can prove it. The alien ships discovered by the Federation, the ones in the AI project, the
Comet’s Breath
, the Morningstar, the
Nebulon
, the
Moonshadow
—”

“You knew they were alien before—”

“Yes, and the intelligences inside them. They’ve contacted me. They chose me.”

A troubled look passed over Northern’s face. “But they were destroyed!”

“Somehow they’ve escaped to Earth’s computer system, where they’re hiding, relatively powerless but still sentient, supported somehow by the network. They seek Dr. Mish … the
Starbow
.”

“I don’t believe it,” said Northern, shaken. “I don’t trust you.”

“They thought you might not. Therefore, they told me to repeat a word to you. ‘
Isafornph
.’”

The effect clearly registered on Northern’s face—surprise. “Do you know the meaning of that word?”

“No. They said you would, though.”

“It’s Mish’s real name. I thought no one alive knew that but he and I.” He smiled grimly. “Okay, Lasster. I’ll take a chance and ask questions later. But if you’ve betrayed me, you can bet that you’re the first one to go!”

“I’ll accept that.”

“Sounds good then. You never were one for personal risk.”

“You don’t think I’m taking a risk now! I’m abandoning everything I’ve worked for! Don’t ever think it hasn’t been tough, Northern.”

“Come on then, and let’s make sure the risk was worthwhile.” He put on the handcuffs, but did not lock them. “Come on then. Let’s go.”

A few words of explanation to the security people was all it took. Soon they were walking briskly down the corridors toward the spaceport. They were silent, Northern making sure that he maintained a properly grim expression instead of revealing the jubilance he felt.

Slipping from Zarpfrin’s grasp again. The man would have heart failure!

But what about Laura?

Laura would have to take care of herself. And she was more than capable of that, Northern knew.

It was not until they reached the access area to the spaceport that they encountered any trouble.

“May I check your clearance for transferring a prisoner,” a security guard requested.

“Clearance?” said Chivon Lasster in her best authoritative voice. “I can give you my ID net. That should be sufficient. I am a Friend.”

“I’m sorry, Friend Lasster,” said the short-haired young man after checking the readout. “But Friend Zarpfrin has—”

“I don’t care what Friend Zarpfrin has done. It is of vital importance that I take this man out to my ship.”

“I’ll have to clear that with those in command, Friend Lasster. And that means I must contact your superior, Friend Zarpfrin, before this is possible. I—”

Northern was quick. He delivered a blow to the back of the man’s neck, then rabbit punched him under the chin, catching him as he slumped and laying him gently on the ground.

Lasster was equally quick about handling the controls of the guard’s station, adjusting them so that no alarm would ring to signal the guard’s change in consciousness.

“I’ve bought only a few minutes, Northern,” she said. “We’ve got to be quick.”

They strode out onto the spaceport landing area. Fortunately, Lasster’s private starship, the Eagle, was docked very close. They had almost reached it when a voice called out behind them: “Stop!”

“Oops,” said Northern, abandoning his guise of prisoner and slipping the needler from his pocket. He squeezed off a shot and then they began to run.

A beam screamed over their heads.

“Hey, you idiots. You might hurt a Friend!” Northern cried. Swiveling around, he fired at the group of guards charging their way.

Lasster was already at the ramp to her starship. She punched in her code. The door cycled open and she shouted for Northern to follow her inside.

Northern managed to get another shot off before climbing up the ramp and jumping into the airlock. Quickly, Lasster punched the door closed then hurried to the nearby control room.

She gestured at the seat beside her. “Copilots again, Northern. Take us where we should go.” She accommodated him by switching the engine on, using her identity bracelet.

Screens switched on, revealing Federation soldiers scurrying to placements on the starport to the rhythms of alarms.

The null-grav engines spun up and readied for takeoff. Northern plotted their course as quickly as he could in the time allowed. Lasster was busy herself engaging force-screens, and a myriad other support system they’d need to escape.

“Fifteen seconds before takeoff,” Northern reported. “I hope you’re erecting the force screens.”

“Better,” she said, adjusting something on the vu-screen. “This should prove I’m being straight with you.” She pecked at a few touch sensitive buttons from her control vu-screen. A whining sound filled the cabin. It was followed by a purple-crimson beam that lashed out, striking the nearest Federation ship ready for takeoff, blowing a hole in its hull.

Quickly, as though she’d never stopped doing this sort of thing since her days as a starship pilot ended, she blasted two more nearby starships. Smoke, plasma-fires and utter chaos filled the landing area as emergency klaxons rang out.

“That should eliminate immediate pursuit,” she said, face pale as what she was doing sunk into her awareness.

“Right!” said Northern, obviously pleased. “And here we go.”

They took off into the sun-bright sky.