The Timeweb Chronicles: Timeweb Trilogy Omnibus (23 page)

Chapter Forty-Seven

No one is ever totally free. Everyone is confined by his own mortality.

—Jacopo Nehr

On the Mutati prison moon of Omo, Giovanni Nehr lamented his situation. He had hoped to get rich by turning the nehrcom secret over to the shapeshifters, but it had not worked out that way at all. In the process, he had also hoped to avenge himself on his smug, overbearing brother Jacopo, but he might never learn if that happened. Gio should not have proceeded without knowing the outcome in advance. In retrospect, he realized that he should have envisioned the possibilities better before committing himself.

Now he toiled in white-hot sunlight, carrying stones from one side of a field to another. Obviously, the work had no purpose whatsoever except to occupy and annoy the prisoners, because there were other men like him moving the stones again, to another place. Back and forth and around and around hundreds of Human men in checkered prison garb went, only occasionally getting water breaks, and then only to drink a brackish, green liquid that looked positively lethal. He swallowed as little of the slimy fluid as possible.

During one of the breaks, he sat cross-legged on a flat rock and struck up a conversation with two young men standing nearby, who identified themselves as Acey Zelk and Dux Hannah. The pair had been discussing the destruction of the planet Mars, wondering how it could have happened. Upon hearing the boys say they’d seen the debris field, Gio asked for more information. They described the horrors of the aftermath, and said some of the onlookers theorized a meteor may have hit the planet.

“Must have been quite a blast,” Gio said.

To Dux, the man didn’t seem very sympathetic. The teenager had heard that Mars was only lightly populated and not on any important commercial routes, but that still meant the loss of hundreds of thousands of people.

For several moments, the three of them gazed off into the distance at shimmering bubbles of air that floated between the moon and the planet Dij, a large ball that looked like it was below the moon.

“Those bubbles are strangely beautiful,” Dux said.

The others agreed, and then Gio expressed his opinion about the uselessness of their labor, just carrying rocks around.

Grinning in a disarming way, Acey said, “Try to see the positive side, friend. We’re getting a good workout, keeping our bodies in shape.”

“Unless this green water gets us,” Dux added, spitting it out and making a face.

“Where are you from?” Gio asked.

“Siriki,” Acey said.

“Ah yes, the world of Princess Meghina. Do you know her?”

“Do we look like her social set?” Acey asked.

“I guess not. I’m from Canopa myself, the most beautiful planet in the galaxy.”

“We’ve seen a lot of worlds,” Dux said to the older man. “Canopa is nice, but not exotic enough for me.”

“Yeah,” Acey agreed. “Too civilized.” He paused, and asked the Canopan, “How did the Mutatis get you?”

Gio grimaced, shook his head. “I’d rather not say. Something dumb I did, dumb and embarrassing.”

“Could say the same for us,” Dux admitted. “We were snared on a Mutati-controlled vacation planet, like insects in a fly trap, they said to us.”

Into the throng of prisoners strutted six guards, fleshy creatures who moved with remarkable speed despite their great girths. The shapeshifters stood in the center, each of them looking in a different direction at the relaxing men.

Without warning, lances of orange fire shot from weapons attached to their wrists, hitting many of the prisoners. “Back to work, you slackers!” they shouted with cruel glee, as the captives cried out in pain and surprise, and jumped in attempts to get out of the way.

On a second burst of fire, Dux was struck in the shoulder, burning through his thin shirt to the skin. Acey was hit on one arm—but both boys refused to cry out. They just moved back into the work detail and did as they were told.

These guards were bored, Dux realized. They had rousted the prisoners from breaks before, but never like this. Previously it had been with shouts, threats, and strange curses, and once they had hurled small, stinging stones at the men. On rare occasions, the Mutati overseers were even pleasant, but Dux came to realize that this was just a sadistic game with them, as they easily shifted back to cruel behavior.

* * * * *

The next time they had a chance to talk, following an evening meal, the two young prisoners and their new friend discussed an escape plan. The moon on which they were incarcerated, in low orbit over Dij, was connected to the Mutati-controlled world by airvators, shimmering capsules of air that rose and descended with passengers inside. From air pressure, they had firm interior walls, floors, and ceilings, but they had no real substance. To observers looking upward, it seemed like the passengers were floating on air bubbles … which, in fact, they were doing. Each airvator was controlled by an operator inside who wore a pressure-regulator, strapped around his torso.

Pursuant to a plan that Dux developed, Acey—who was mechanically inclined—stole one of the regulators and put it on, then generated a pale yellow bubble around them.

“It’s easy to operate,” Acey said. The mechanism made a soft hiss. “Hang on,” he said. “Here we go!”

Looking around, Dux grabbed a railing as they lifted into the air. His companions did the same, and barely in the nick of time, because the capsule flipped over, tossing them around.

“Sorry,” Acey said. He righted the airvator, increased the power, and they went higher into the air.

Dux felt lightness in his feet, the gravity field weakening as they moved farther from the moon.

“I’m turning on artificial gravity now,” Acey said.

Dux felt it kick on, as his feet settled firmly to the deck of the airvator.

“Beyond the moon’s atmosphere now,” Acey reported. “We’re in a narrow band of space between Omo and Dij. In a few moments, we’ll enter the stratosphere of the planet.”

But as they descended toward Dij, Mutati guards in another airvator spotted them and opened fire.

Acey changed course, and inside the enclosure the three of them tried to duck. Projectiles hit their airvator, puncturing the seal and damaging the pressure mechanism.

Acey tried to re-inflate, but they began to lose pressure. and tumbled rapidly. Dux saw a gaping hole on one side of the bubble, an opening that shifted when Gio moved around.

“Stay away from the hole!” Acey yelled. “Watch out!”

Gio lunged at Dux and said, “Careful! You could fall a long way!” He gave Dux a hard push toward the cavity.

Dux was nearly as tall as his attacker, but thinner and less muscular. The older man was stronger, and had the added element of surprise. Still, the youth had wiry strength, and fought desperately to avoid falling to his certain death. He lost his grip on the railing, but tumbled to the other side of the capsule and grabbed hold again.

“Just a mistake,” Gio said. “It wasn’t what it must have looked like. I was just trying to keep my balance, didn’t mean to push you.”

“Like hell,” Dux said.

Acey struggled with the regulator and managed to increase the air pressure, but only a little.

The airvator hurtled downward, spinning.

Suddenly an emergency system went on, and the hole sealed over. The airvator began to descend at a normal speed until it settled onto the ground. As it landed, the mechanism shut down, and the shimmering bubble disappeared entirely, leaving only a wisp of color behind that soon dissipated in the air. The three of them ran from the guards, whose airvator landed moments later. Gio ran in a separate direction from the boys.

Acey and Dux scampered across a storage compound enclosed by energy-field fences. They hurried by a faceless servobot and boarded a small gray ship, slipping into the cargo hold amidst large crates, bags, and barrels. The pair were barely inside when the hatch slid shut behind them, and the craft lifted off.

Peering through a porthole, Dux saw the vessel speeding toward the setting sun on the horizon, skimming over grassy hills and treetops. Acey showed interest in something else, an arched doorway in the forward bulkhead of the hold. He strode through, and disappeared for several moments.

When Dux followed, he found his cousin standing at a control panel on the bridge of the ship, examining the instruments. Glancing back, Acey said, “This thing’s on automatic, a programmed route.”

“To where?”

“Can’t tell.” He tapped a light green screen, said, “This is the destination board, full of numbers and letters. We’re on course for Destination 1-A, wherever that is. My guess is this is a supply ship, and after we deliver cargo there, it keeps going on its route, to other destinations.”

“Too bad we’re so low to the ground,” Dux said. “I’d give
your
right arm for a pod station right now.”

“And I’d give your right eye,” said the other, with a wink and a grin. He glanced out the front window. “Whoa, what’s that?”

Ahead, Dux saw a building that at first appeared to be one-story. As they neared the structure—which was constructed of patterned geometric blocks—he realized it was at least ten stories in height, with huge open doorways and ships inside that look like merchant schooners, even painted the red-and-gold of the Merchant Prince Alliance. Lights began to flicker on as the sun dipped below the horizon.

“Something doesn’t look right here,” Dux said. “Our princes would never buy ships from the Mutatis, or sell anything to them.”

Inside the facility, he identified the lumpy shapes of Mutati workmen, fitting some sort of hardware into one of the vessels. A complex of smaller buildings was adjacent, surrounded by a high fence. He saw hundreds of blue-uniformed shapeshifters on the grounds, and more of the schooner-like vessels.

“What is this place?” Dux asked.

“Looks like a manufacturing facility,” Acey said. “Military, from the look of it, and the level of security.”

“Something to do with fake merchant prince schooners,” Dux said.

“That’d be my bet.”

Their ship set down a short distance away on a shadowy landing field, where only servobots awaited them, simpleton machines that were programmed to perform a limited number of tasks, repetitively. Moments later, a hatch opened in the floor of the cargo hold, and a ramp extended down to the pavement. On-board systems began sliding items down the ramp, where the bots loaded them onto a groundtruck.

In the cargo hold, Acey used a strip of metal to pry open a crate. “Just food,” he said, peering inside. While the unloading operation continued, he avoided the flexing servo-arms of the bots and broke into another crate, followed by another.

“I know what this is,” he said, pulling out a black field gun. Rummaging around in the crate, he found ammunition, which he began loading into the weapon.

“What are you doing?” Dux asked.

“You want to join the fun, or are you just going to watch?”

“Uh, I don’t …”

Acey grabbed another gun and more ammunition from of the crate just before a servomechanism grabbed the open container and slid it down the ramp, followed by the others he had opened. Finally the hatch closed, and the ship began to lift off. Acey handed the first weapon to Dux, then loaded the second one and fired it at a porthole, blasting it open. Hefting the heavy gun and touching the firing pad, Dux blew open another porthole.

The boys exchanged quick glances, and grinned at each other. Mutatis were the mortal enemies of all Humans, and these two had been indoctrinated in this belief system from an early age.

Without another word, they fired into the building with the powerful field guns, hitting the schooners and barrels of chemicals, which exploded into flames. In a matter of seconds the entire facility was ablaze and alarm klaxons were sounding. Like ants in a frenzy, uniformed Mutatis scurried around, trying to figure out what had happened. The boys emptied their guns into the soldiers, dropping many of them and sending others scrambling for cover.

The cargo ship flew on its programmed course past the flames, while the teenagers shouted in glee at the unexpected bonus, and reloaded their weapons. At last they were getting even for what the Mutatis had done to them, and in the process had undoubtedly saved the lives of Humans who might have been the victims of whatever weapons systems they were constructing inside that building.

Acey ran back onto the bridge, and smashed something. “They’re coming after us!” he shouted. “I see two blips on the scanscreen.”

Dux hurried to the back of the hold and blasted open another porthole. He saw a pair of fighter ships speeding after them, with the factory burning behind them. Dux opened fire on them, and they fired back.

Just then, the cargo vessel banked left and surged upward, in a burst of acceleration. Dux held on and kept firing the field gun. He hit the short wing of one of the pursuit ships, and the craft spun out of control.

“I overrode the program!” Acey shouted. “This baby really has power!”

“I got one of them!” Dux yelled. His field gun was more powerful than the armaments of the fighter ships, and had a longer range. One ship hit the ground and exploded in a fireball, and then he hit the other one, which blew up in midair.

The cargo vessel, lifting higher and higher into the sky, had proven to be more versatile than Acey or Dux could have possibly imagined. They flew to a pod station, jumped onto a deck and used the field guns to shoot their way past any Mutatis they encountered.

Boarding a podship that arrived a few minutes later, they left chaos in their wake. The sentient spacecraft departed for deep space.…

When they were safely off-planet, Acey and Dux talked about what they would like to do to that slimy Canopan—Giovanni Nehr—if they ever saw him again.

Chapter Forty-Eight

Opportunities are all around you, waiting to be plucked like gemstones from a jeweler’s tray.

—Malbert Nehr, to his sons

Giovanni Nehr was not as skilled as the boys in getting away from the Mutati world. He hid in the marshland for two days, drinking rainwater and not eating anything. Seeing shuttles lift off regularly in the distance, he made his way through swamp and jungle to the edge of the transport station. For most of a day he watched the shuttles taking off and landing. Early that evening, in geostationary orbit high overhead, he saw a bright light, which he judged must be a pod station.

Darkness dropped like a thick black blanket over the land. It was a moonless, starless night, illuminated only by the pod station and the landing lights of the shuttles. Gradually, he built up his courage, and crept across the landing field.

Concealing himself behind a stack of shipping crates, he watched Mutati soldiers supervise robots that were loading a shuttle, using heavy equipment. On occasion the Mutatis came close to Gio, only a couple of meters away, without seeing him in the shadows.

As he watched, he discovered something very interesting. Even when he was relatively near the shapeshifters, they showed no signs of anti-Human, allergic reactions … apparently as long as they could not see him, as long as they were unaware of his presence.

Gio learned something else as well, of even greater significance. From his place of concealment, waiting for an opportunity to sneak aboard a shuttle, he overheard two Mutati officers supervising the loading operation, giving the robots voice commands in Galeng. The pair also talked between themselves about impending military missions against the Humans … stepped-up attacks.

“It’s nothing like the merchant princes have ever seen before,” one of the Mutatis said. “They can’t defend against it.”

“The Demolio program is brilliant, isn’t it?” said the other. “This will be the deciding factor in the war.”

The voices drifted off as the Mutatis moved farther away. When they returned, they were discussing the same subject, but there were no specifics. They kept referring to something called “Demolio.”

Demolio
?

Whatever it was, it sounded big to Gio, and he wondered if he could get a reward for tipping off the merchant princes about it. But for his next venture he vowed do more research in advance, so that he didn’t get into trouble again, the way he did with the Mutatis. Always the opportunist, Gio knew there was a great potential for profit during wartime. If he could only escape and take advantage of the situation.…

The loading took the better part of an hour, after which the Mutatis and robots boarded a motocart and sped away across the landing field.

With the shuttle unattended, Gio made his way to a loading hatch and sneaked aboard the craft. Hours passed while he waited inside in the darkness of a cargo hold.

He drifted off to sleep on the hard deck, then awoke hours later at the sound of voices, and the rumble of an engine as it surged on and vibrated the vessel. He hoped the interior air would be breathable when they reached orbital space. Dim light filtered into the hold, making him think it might be dawn.

Gio yawned and stretched. His muscles were sore, and hunger gnawed at his stomach, like a creature consuming his body from the inside out. He felt air circulating in the hold, and heard the whir of fans. The ship lifted off.

In only a few minutes, he felt weightless, then the craft’s gravitational system kicked on. Presently, he heard what he judged to be the sound of a docking mechanism engaging, perhaps at a pod station or space station.

Soon he heard voices again, an angry confrontation outside. Peeking around the edge of an open hatchway, he saw the Mutatis on the loading platform of a pod station, arguing with a pair of pale-skinned Kichi men. The Kichis claimed that the Mutatis had taken their docking berth, and they were quite upset.

“Take another berth,” one of the Mutati officers said. He pointed the forefingers of his three hands to another docking spot, a short distance away.

“No,” the tallest Kichi said. “We reserved this one for a freighter arriving in the next half hour.”

“What difference does it make which berth you get?” the Mutati asked. “They’re all the same, just holding spots until a pod takes us aboard.”

“It makes a lot of difference, you fat pile of ugly. You have five minutes to get out of here, or we’re going to cut your piece of junk loose.” He spit on the Mutati vessel.

Enraged Mutatis surrounded them. But the Kichis activated a long, high-pitched signal, and moments later a throng of them came running toward the platform.

During the wild melee, Gio saw a podship arrive in one of the zero-g docking berths at the center of the station, where passengers were already lined up to board. On impulse, he ran for the ship, but had to pass the fighting aliens to get there.

A Mutati guard spotted him as he crept out of the shuttle, and opened fire with a jolong rifle. Sparkling blue projectiles whizzed by his head, and thumped into the thick gray-and-black skin of the podship. The vessel shuddered.

Gio ran to the front of the line and pushed his way on, out of turn.

“Who do you think you are?” a Jimlat dwarf shouted, after Gio shoved him aside and he fell to the dock.

Ignoring him, Gio found a seat on a bench at the rear of the passenger compartment. A handful of additional passengers boarded, but not the dwarf. Without warning, before the normal amount of time allowed for boarding, the podship hatch closed, and the large sentient vessel got underway.

The cabin wasn’t even half full, but apparently the podship had been agitated by the projectiles hitting its side, even though it would take more firepower than that to harm one of the creatures. Some of the passengers glared back at Gio, but he ignored them.

Noticing a stinging on his left arm, he examined it. Just a flesh wound visible through the torn sleeve of his shirt, with a little trickle of blood. Nothing to dampen the ebullience he was feeling. He had gotten away from the Mutatis, and was free now.