STAR HOUNDS -- OMNIBUS (42 page)

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Authors: David Bischoff,Saul Garnell

Tags: #Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #war, #Space Opera, #Space

BOOK: STAR HOUNDS -- OMNIBUS
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Chivon was astonished. “Yes … Yes, that would make sense. But if that is what Zarpfrin has been doing, then it’s without the full knowledge of the Council.”

“Which is possible?”

“I’ve learned in the past weeks, Northern, that anything is possible.”

“Right. So it seems simple enough, once you’ve got past the idea of Zarpfrin getting through to the Jaxdron, communicating with them, and striking some sort of a deal. The Jaxdron play the bogeyman, scare the daylights out of the Free Worlds, and one by one they seek help from Big Daddy Federation. Planet after planet will be inducted back into the Federation, whether they like it or not. Guys like Freeman Jonst will wake up one morning with a skyfull of Feddy ships and the message, ‘You’re part of the gang again!’”

“But why would Zarpfrin allow the Jaxdron to destroy the project and take Cal?” asked Laura, playing along.

“Simple. Zarpfrin is really against any kind of project that will open up more space. It’s like I mentioned before—why he’s frightened of the portals. He doesn’t want to go any farther. There are more powerful civilizations out there in the Universe. He wants mankind to develop in different ways, to perhaps become more advanced and powerful and militaristic in order to prepare to spread out farther and not get conquered. But he also wants to consolidate the human-held worlds already in existence. And along the way, wipe out gadflies like us star hounds on the
Starbow
.”

Chivon nodded. “Yes. Yes, that must be it!”

“So Laura, there are still unanswered questions as to why he allowed you to go out to try to rescue Cal. Part of it has to do certainly with the possibility of your running into us, which he saw on his prediction matrix. But there’s more. More that can only be discovered by finding out fully what the Jaxdron want.”

“But we’re still going after Cal, then,” said Laura.

“Oh, definitely,” said Northern. “I just wanted to puzzle some things out, see if there’s anything you two can add.”

Plenty, thought Laura, if only I could.

“Nothing,” said Chivon. “Only from everything that Zarpfrin has said to me—and the things he hasn’t said—this sounds like an excellent explanation.”

“Sounds like he wants more than just the good of the Federation to me,” said Laura.

“Yes,” said Northern. “That’s highly likely.”

“The ultimate dream of a megalomaniac,” said Chivon. “And power beyond the imagination ….”

“Yes,” said Northern. “I do believe that old Zarpy wants quite a bit more than he lets on.”

Chapter Seven

C
hivon Lasster knew the
Starbow
from her days as its copilot. Nonetheless, she was astonished at the variety of changes effected upon the ship in these past years. They were three days short of Earth, the crew relaxing after their feverish adventures, and for the first time in years, Chivon felt truly rested—rested and safe. She and Northern had agreed that her role would be minimal for a time—best for her mental health—and she would be called upon only if truly needed.

Which was fine by her, since life aboard the
Starbow
was so strange to her now.

One of the robots—named Alexander the Great—was delegated as her guide and servant, and, she suspected, her keeper. She elected to tour the areas of the
Starbow
to which she was allowed access.

The others of the crew remained friendly but slightly aloof. She couldn’t blame them. After all, here in their midst was a person who had once sworn to capture them. A hated Friend of the Federation. It would take more than a while for them to warm up to someone like herself—especially since Chivon’s personality was not exactly congenial and warm, as she well knew. Still, that was all right, since she needed time to herself to think things out.

The one individual she missed the most was Andrew. He was the one person she felt she could really trust, who seemed to know her better than she knew herself. She could talk to Andrew, really talk. About anything. She missed that. A fleeting thought came to her that since Dr. Mish was the same sort of being as Andrew, that perhaps she might be able to talk to him ….

But, of course, that was impossible. One of the reasons that Andrew had been so good with her was that he was a CompComp—an official Computer Companion with total access to all the records the Federation kept on each individual from birth. Andrew knew her favorite colors, her hobbies, how many lovers she had had:
everything
. To this, of course, he had added his special brand of ancient wisdom—alien wisdom at that, she thought wryly—which surely Mish had too. But there was no way she could ever begin to give Mish all the information that Andrew had.

Perhaps it was just as well, she thought. She had to learn to depend upon herself for these kinds of things—especially since, for the sake of unselfish principles totally new to her, she had just ripped herself away from the social structure from which her mind had literally grown.

Yes, she thought as she idly browsed through the ship’s library, Alexander quietly waiting in a chair, it was best to make these kinds of adjustments on her own.

When Andrew had first revealed to her his true identity, along with the fact that four others like him hid within the electronic nooks and crannies of Federation systems, Chivon’s paranoia was set off. She had always secretly feared that Andrew was a ploy on the part of other competitive Friends after her job. Or even that the Council was checking on her loyalty.

But Andrew’s story rang true. It made sense.

This was why Arnal Zarpfrin had destroyed the sentient ships, not because they were artificially intelligent, but because they were alien ships, each holding portals to who-knows-where. By destroying them, he thought he would eradicate the threat to humanity from the many nameless civilizations Out There.

Also, the creature she dealt with, this Aspach, as it called itself and its fellows, was simply too coherently
good
to be the product of Federation minds. He had an almost discernible integrity that radiated from his presence. Alas, Andrew could tell her very little of his past. Like Dr. Mish, he and his fellow Aspach had lost much of their memory—there seemed to be some mosaic, some puzzle involved in their existence that would only be solved by a reuniting of their full number with one of the portals they inhabited.

This was why Andrew had ventured out to seek assistance from Chivon. Only with her help could the
Starbow
be called back and contact be made.

She only thought about it for a very short time before she had decided that she would indeed defect from the Federation, abandoning her home and her career. All her ambition, encouraged by the Federation, had never led her to anything truly satisfying.

She had been content only one time in her life—when she had been with Tars Northern. For years after he fled Earth, she had tried to deny this fact, which was why she had needed the therapeutic assistance of a CompComp in the first place.

Perhaps, she thought, now that she realized why Tars had abandoned her, in her heart of hearts she forgave him. He had stolen the
Starbow
to save it, after all, and in so doing had become an outlaw in the eyes of the Federation. He had sacrificed all for the sake of his newly formed ideals, and for the sake of his rebellion against the restrictive tyrannical reign of the Federation over the human spirit—over human freedom. And once that was thoroughly understood in her own mind, she realized that he had done the right thing, and that she should do the right thing as well.

This, Andrew told her, was the possibility that he had seen in her psychological profile: the potential for renewal, the capacity for idealism. What he hadn’t added was
potential for salvation
, though Chivon knew that now to be true.

She had done the right thing, and now she had to figure out what that meant in her life.

Being around Tars Northern again was strange as well, and something that she had to adjust to slowly: the man had changed.

The fact that she was confused about how she felt about him now might indeed have been complicating her perceptions. When she had been with him before, Tars had been of rock-solid character, a hero with a sense of humor but a troubled mind. He had been a most competent captain and pilot who took great pleasure in his position. He loved his ships, he loved his job. They had met before being assigned as copilots to the
Starbow
, but did not become lovers until they were placed together on the vessel. The changes had started when he met Dr. Mish, and now, years later, they seemed complete.

Oh, Tars Northern still had his integrity—but the spontaneous nature of the man had come out, the unpredictability. Certainly he was still talented and competent; but now there was an excitement to his eyes as though at times he dwelled totally only in the present moment.

Yes, and there was more mystery now ….

She tried to avoid him as much as possible.

She had admitted to Andrew that she still loved the man. A difficult confession, because the Federation enculturation always instilled the notion in its citizens that romantic love did not exist. Seeing him now, different yet more exciting, made her want him more.

She needed to control that. She needed to get herself together, under tight rein again, especially since she didn’t have Andrew for therapy.

Control. Aloofness. Those were the things that Chivon Lasster sought now, and she appreciated the
Starbow
crew for their willingness to give her the space she needed.

Perhaps she could get to know them better later; and then she would open herself more to them.

She was in the library with Alexander, absently considering this, when the woman introduced to her before as Midshipman Gemma Naquist entered the room.

“Oh, hello,” said the midshipman. “I hope I’m not intruding. Just thought I’d do some research.”

“Intruding?” Chivon immediately realized that this was a perfect example of what she’d been considering. “No, of course not. If anything, perhaps I am the intruder.”

“That why you’ve been keeping to yourself?” the spunky, friendly-eyed woman wanted to know, clearly giving Chivon a chance to confide in her. “We’re quite grateful about the way you snatched our dear captain from the hands of the enemy.”

“It was something I thought necessary.” There was a moment of awkwardness. She paused for a moment, then smiled. “I am sorry, but you must realize that I feel myself in a peculiar situation.”

“Oh … you being a Friend and all that.” Gemma nodded. “Well, you have to remember that all of us have peculiar backgrounds—or why would we be aboard the
Starbow
?”

Gemma browsed through a research tank, scanning through huge volumes of data. She seemed a bright, energetic person, and quite attractive in a personable way. Perhaps here was the opportunity to try to get to know at least one of the crew better.

“I guess, then, you know my background,” she said coolly.

“Sure,” replied Gemma jauntily. “You used to hold a top position in Feddy bureaucracy.” She turned a sly smile on her. “And a little bird told me you used to be the captain’s lady.”

Chivon found herself laughing at the frankness of that last remark. “Yes, I suppose you could say that.”

“Must have been tough. That Northern can be rough on women. Glad I never got involved with him.” She said it so casually that Chivon suddenly found she could at last discuss that most complex man, Tars Northern.

“Yes. I interviewed a lady named Kat Mizel who seemed rather perturbed over the subject.”

Gemma laughed. “And damned perturbed she got left behind in that raid, I don’t doubt. Poor Kat’s only problem was that she had it pretty bad for the captain. So bad, in fact, she tricked the guy into marrying her when he was loaded and on a shore leave.”

“Ah,” said Chivon. So that was why Tars Northern got married. His drinking and his integrity … a curious combination.

“So what happened to old Kat, anyway?” Gemma put a hand to her hip and flashed a frown at Chivon. “The way we figure, she helped old Zarpfrin … and you … get tabs on us. Helped you lay that trap on—”

“Zarpfrin sent her to a rehabilitation planet somewhere. In a few more months, I daresay she’ll be a good Federation citizen.”

“Nothing much more she can do against us, I suppose. Still, it is a shame the way things turned out. Maybe we’ll run into Kat again, somewhere down the line. I hope so.”

“I don’t think she’d very much like to see me again,” said Chivon.

“No, I suppose she wouldn’t.”

“Laura Shemzak has a bit of a … what would you call it … a crush? An affection for Tars. Something she tries to hide.”

“You’ve noticed so soon. Oh, yes, and I think there’s something for her in him ….”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, like raw lust.”

Chivon stifled a snort.

“Yes, half the women that have been on this boat have developed a thing for good Captain Northern,” Gemma said. “I suppose it’s the romantic dash in the man. I confess, sometimes it gets to me too.”

“I think he enjoys that. But tell me, Gemma … you said you had an unusual induction aboard the
Starbow.
I’d like to hear about it.”

“We all had unusual inductions … and adjustments. Northern plied the oddball corners of the Free Worlds, where the flotsam and jetsam of humanity gravitate—”

“To hang out in bars?”

“I think he wanted to recruit people who were experienced and talented … but disillusioned, and perhaps desperate. Desperate enough to join this crew, anyway. Oh, and one more characteristic is needed.”

“Oh? And what’s that?” Chivon asked.

“A certain idealism. I think that at the core of every member of this crew is a belief in the value of the individual’s freedom. The belief that human beings have the right to shape their own destinies, not be controlled by some greater, mindless set of cultural attitudes. Know what I mean?”

“Oh, yes,” Chivon replied. “That’s ninety percent of how the Federation controls its citizens, the other ten percent being the genetic programming, the intensely controlled education, the monitored competition and achievement—”

“Oh, yeah,” Gemma interrupted. “We all heard about that on Anteres IV.”

“Anteres IV, that’s the Free World you’re from?”

“Uh-huh.”

“A beautiful, very docile world as I recall,” Chivon said. “Blue skies. Lots of grass and water and farming and dairy operations. Manufactures the best cheese in the galaxy.”

“Hey, you know your planets, don’t you?”

“I had to. Part of my job was to study methods for infiltration and takeover of a large sector of FreeWorlds through nonviolent means.”

“Yeah, well, they can have Anteres IV, far as I’m concerned,” Gemma said. “Boring as they come.”

“That’s why you joined up with the
Starbow
? You did promise to tell me about it.” It was then that Chivon noticed the freckles that dusted the midshipman’s nose and cheeks, or at least they seemed more pronounced. And the former Friend could visualize this affable, open human being wandering in the pastures beneath a pair of rosy suns, a stereotypical cornfed girl.

“Oh, yes. I joined planet’s National Guard first, against the wishes of my parents. They wanted me to marry some clodhopper and cut sod and feed cows and squeeze out a load of healthy babies. I learned to fly the third-rate airboats and system ships, but there were no real challenges. So one day, while stationed in the capital, I’m looking over the classifieds in the local rag because there wasn’t anything much better to do, and I come across this ad. Let me see if I can remember the exact wording: WANTED. SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. MILITARY AND SPACE PILOTING EXPERIENCE DESIRABLE. PREFERABLY ATTRACTIVE FEMALE. And the recruitment place was this local dive. So I thought, Hey, why not? See what this joker is up to. I mean, I’m not bad looking and I did fit the bill.”

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