more populated system be a safer choice? Assuming it was run by sentients with more backbone than the Reeshi?
If he were to take a more traveled route, there would be ships in his path. That did not seem safe.
Damn it, just exactly how much influence did these Zhianese wield in this part of the galaxy?
6
The Reeshi Moon shrank to a speck behind them, and their pursuers broke off the chase.
A third ship, almost as fast as Lucky Star, left the docks shortly after the first two. There was other traffic behind it, not fast enough to cause him worry.
George watched it with anxiety for several hours. Its course slowly diverged from his, and he finally concluded it wasn't after him. Only when he was sure it posed no threat did he cut the drives.
The Lucky Star grew silent. There remained only the drone of the ventilators.
She hurtled onward in free trajectory. George switched gravpulse to give normal weight.
He kept a wary eye on the other craft; it kept boosting at something like his original rate, drawing abreast and pulling away from him.
If it tried to double back, he would fire up the drives again.
He decided to wait until there were no ships within at least an Astronomical Unit before jettisoning the cargo for Lychel.
He looked over at the Reeshi. "Glad I took your advice."
"I'm glad to be aboard your ship."
"What's your name? That is, what shall I call you?" Reeshi did not have individual names as such. How you addressed one depended on your identity, the situation, and the context.
"You are above me in my new social matrix. So you must choose a suitable name yourself."
"Can’t you just pick your own?"
"Oh, no! That wouldn't be appropriate or comfortable for me to do."
"Um, okay. I'll have to give it some thought."
"What names shall others aboard call me? How many positions must I address in return?"
"We'll keep it simple. Just one name, all the time. There's only one other person aboard anyway. Her name is always Lydia."
The Reeshi grew still. "Thank you for your consideration. I'm honored."
"When can you go back home? After the Zhianese have left?"
"I wouldn't chance it."
"You told me they had no formal authority."
"Yes, and in that moment my fate was sealed."
"You got in trouble just for that?"
"Yes. For that."
George was at a loss for words. "I'm sorry to hear it," he finally said.
"They have more informal authority than I realized."
"You're not telling me you can never go back?"
"That's how I feel about it. But I'm determined to make the best of things. I had no offspring or close partners I'll miss. I've always wanted to travel."
"You're an adventurous sort."
"I suppose so. It's not a common trait among my kind." The Reeshi looked around. "I hope you'll let me be useful. I'm good with machinery. Of course, it will take time before I can familiarize myself with your vessel. The technology is electronic in nature?"
"The human-built parts are. You don't have to ship with me forever, you know. Is there some planet you'd like to go to? I'd be happy to give you a lift. You can stay aboard until we find a world that suits you."
"I'm hoping you'll allow me to remain. I'm talented with machines, good captain! When I was younger, I studied exotic engineering in order to have something to fall back on if I couldn't make it in the hospitality industry. It's been a dream of mine to serve on such a vessel as this."
George stared at the Reeshi. "Are you by any chance hustling me for a job?"
"I'm exiled from my homeworld and desire to procure gainful employment. This is my first opportunity to seek it."
George gave a weak laugh. "All right. I'll have to think about that too."
"If I must pay passenger fare, I confess I'm unable to do so—"
"Don't worry about that. You did me a good turn back there. You are welcome, and, uh, invited to stay aboard as my guest. Okay?"
"You're most generous, good Captain. What names and titles do you desire me to address you by, and at what times?"
"My individual name is George. My title aboard ship is Captain. You can call me that if you want to talk about ship's business. Or just George for day-to-day stuff."
"Understood, Captain."
They were interrupted by a chime from the intercom. "Captain? How are we doing? Is anyone after us?"
George checked the nav window. "Doesn't seem to be."
"That's good, but you're keeping an eye out?"
"I'm trying to stay on top of things. As of right now, we've made a clean escape and we're two days out from wormhole transit. You can take that shower if you want."
"Oh, thank you!"
"Stop by the command sphere when you get a chance. I'll introduce you to my favorite hero."
"The Reeshi?"
"That's right."
"So you trust him?"
"I do."
Lydia sighed. "I am now about to take the first decent shower I've had in years. Then I'll come up."
"Looking forward to it. Intercom off."
"So what's our destination, Captain Wells?" asked the Reeshi.
George peered at the navigation window. Like other civilizations, the Reeshi built their wormholes in a distant ring orbiting their sun, in accordance with G-Net specifications.
"We're on course for gate 70," George replied, "to an uninhabited system, a red giant called Dradau—"
The Reeshi jerked in alarm. "No!"
"What is it?" George felt a surge of dismay.
The Reeshi quivered in panic; George feared he was about to go frolf, but he took control of himself with obvious effort. "If I'd known your intention I'd have warned you. The system, as you say, is not currently in use. There was a civilization there during some long-ago epoch. That's why there's a gate, a very old one. But they weren't starfarers and didn't build gates themselves. They're extinct now and their world lies fallow."
"That was what attracted me in the first place, I thought I'd go look at some ancient ruins."
"Oh, but those who go there in this era don't wish to be disturbed. They're dangerous types, the unsavory ones. Besides, there are no other portals. We'd be trapped."
George slapped his forehead. "That's right, it's a cul-de-sac. I clean forgot. Okay, this is your neck of the woods. I'm open to suggestion."
"I'm thankful." He thought for a moment. "What about the Relqui system? Gate 72? Only a minimal course change would be required."
George closed his eyes and accessed the ship's database, which had recently been updated on the Reeshi Moon. "Another uninhabited system."
"Yes, the seldom-used gates are grouped together. There was a civilization there several Earth centuries ago. Their homeworld was destroyed in a local war, and all that's left is a belt of rubble. The species has died out. There are four other portals there. Two are links to minor travel lanes. The others lead to bottlenecks like Dradau."
"I see. Wow, there's some interesting history there." George reviewed the data for several minutes, and then nodded. "Relqui it is." His fingers tapped a keypad, instructing the nav program to plot the new course.
"Listen, thanks," he added. "You're hired for that engineer's post you wanted. We can work out some sort of profit sharing thing when there's time. I think that's how it's done."
"Thank you, I'm sure we can reach an understanding."
A while later, beneath them, the hatch to the main fuselage rumbled open. The elevator platform rose to fill the aperture, a massive disc with Lydia standing atop it.
It ascended to the control nest and sighed to a stop. She took a seat beside George in the copilot's chair. He swiveled to face her.
She favored him with a sad little smile. "Hello, there."
"Hello yourself." He was delighted to see her again. She looked tidy, fresh and clean.
"L
ydia, this is my favorite Reeshi."
"Pleased to meet you, fellow being." She gazed at him solemnly and offered her hand.
The Reeshi took it in both of his. "I'm pleased also, good Lydia. Thanks for your ready acceptance of me."
"Don't mention it."
"You know the deal with Reeshi names?" asked George.
"Reeshi forms of address, you mean? I thought they didn't have permanent names."
"That's accurate," he agreed. "But we've got to call him something. Any suggestions?"
"What does he want to be called?"
George shrugged. "That's just it—"
They were interrupted by a loud chime. "Ship!" George said. "Ignore comm signal."
"Command executed."
Lydia leaned toward him, an urgent expression on her face. "Captain, I don't think that's a wise decision."
"Huh?" George stared at her, totally taken off guard. "I really don't think there is anyone in this system I want to talk to."
"I'm sure you have a point, sir. Nevertheless, it's not good procedure."
"You don't have to call me Captain or sir. You're my personal guest. Just call me George."
Lydia sighed. "I'm only responding to my training. When I feel a commanding officer has made a bad decision, I am to call it to his attention."
"NASA training?"
"Aviation training, which appears to be many years out of date."
"I'm sure the procedures are sound ones."
"Consider any suggestion to be just a resource. It's up to you how you use it."
"Okay. Well, bad decision or not, I really don't feel like talking to anyone right now."
She hesitated, and then gave a shrug. "Your privilege, Captain."
"I'm afraid we're going to have to put off that steak dinner. We're in no danger of pursuit, but I worry about being intercepted by some new ship that might emerge in front of us. I need to stay here and keep watch."
She stared at him owlishly. "Surely you don't mean we're not going to eat."
"Surely not! There are military rations under the seats."
Lydia wrinkled her nose. "Steak sounds better. I could go grill them myself."
"I promise it will be worth the wait."
"You told me to make myself at home. Didn't you mean it?"
George sighed. "I did mean it. Okay, my galley is your galley."
"This ship is the UN version of the old D1000 transport, isn't it?"
"That's right."
"Then I can find my way. With your permission, Captain?"
George smiled ruefully. "Permission? Absolutely, Lydia."
"One more thing, what you said about no danger of pursuit? I wouldn't be too sure."
"We outran the ones who tried. Quite easily." George managed not to smirk as he said this.
"I don't know who our first pursuers were, but they were probably a pair of Tyreel fighting craft."
"There were two ships. So why didn't they catch us?"
Lydia rubbed her forehead. "Well, the Zhianese are hydrogen breathers with sluggish metabolisms. You could say they're slow on the uptake. The Tyreel are oxygen breathers with normal reaction times, but they have to consult their masters before exercising any initiative; they never stray far without orders. They'd have broken off their initial chase, but their ships are pretty damn fast."
The ebullience George had felt earlier vanished. "I guess I should keep a closer eye on my stern nav display."
"I think that would be wise, Captain. Sooner or later the Zhianese will react."
"And I think I've lost my appetite."
"I haven't. We've got to eat."
George shrugged. "You probably haven't had a decent meal lately. If you want to go grill up some steaks, I could choke one down. A person does need to keep up his strength."
"What about the Reeshi? Can he eat a steak?"
"I don't know, but they told me humans could eat Reeshi food—"
"I believe that's true, Captain," said the Reeshi.
George nodded. "I know what, hero. Why don't you just go along with Lydia and choose whatever appeals to you?"
"Thank you, my Captain. Hero is to be my name? I am gratified."
"Hey, I like that," said Lydia.
"But—oh, heck, it's appropriate. Okay. Hero it is." George grinned.
"How do you like your steak?" asked Lydia. "And what do you want with it?"
"Medium-rare. There's a salad and some garlic bread in the reefer. And I'll have some milk. Just like Archie Goodwin"
"Who's he?"
George grinned. "A fictional character from before either of us was born. I'll introduce you to him, you'll like him."
7
When they had gone, it occurred to George he would do well to get in the habit of listening to Lydia's advice. The woman was a trained professional, after all.
"Ship! State origin of most recent comm signal."
"The merchant vessel Agreeable Path."
George felt warm pleasure at the thought of Lychel. "Okay, establish contact."
Moments later, the Dalhou's visage loomed before him. "Hello George. Good of you to return my call."
"My pleasure, Lychel. Sorry I didn't answer sooner. Things have been hectic today."
"I can well imagine. I wanted to thank you again for your generous offer, but I'm unable to accept it."
"That's okay. I understand if you've changed your mind."
"Oh, don't misunderstand me. I'd have been happy to act as your agent. I saw on the news how they tried to detain you, screeching about your 'criminal recklessness', but you had excellent reason for what you did. I decided to move off from the docks myself."
"You're not there now?" asked George
"No," replied Lychel. "It wasn't my intention leave the area, I just wanted free of the docking clamps."
"Believe me, I understand."
"They refused to release my vessel! A Tyreel came pounding on my airlock door. I decided to perform the same maneuver you did."
"Sorry I got you into this," George said.
"I acted as my judgment dictated." Lychel said. "I thought I'd make enough profit to pay the damages and still come out ahead, but the Reeshi authorities became most irrational. They canceled the entire deal and demanded I surrender. When I refused they sent armed vessels after me. They shot at me!"
"Did your ship take any damage?"
"Yes, but it's functioning well enough to leave this system. I'll get it repaired in Orgafali space."
"What's your current course?"
"Outward bound for gate 66 to Orgafal."
"Oh, you must be the ship I've been so concerned about." George said.
"I'm sorry if I've caused you anxiety," Lychel said.
"You have, a little. I've been keeping an eye on you. Glad I can relax." George studied the navigation display. "Do you require assistance? We could rendezvous if you need to."
The Dalhou was silent for a moment. "I think not," he said at last. "It isn't safe here. It's best we both clear this system quickly."
"Okay."
"Thanks for the ready offer. I sense in you a true friend. We must stay in touch."
"Certainly!"
"I'll not ask where you're bound, lest we be overheard," Lychel said. "We can exchange secure E-messages later."
"Of course. Count on it." George hesitated. "Since you’ve already told me where you’re going, I assume you feel Orgafal is safe?"
"For me, yes. For you, no. There's a mega-wormhole there leading to a system two jumps from Dalhou space. The Orgafali are friendly toward my people, they likely wouldn't turn one of us over to the Zhianese. You, however, might fare no better with them than you did with the Reeshi. I'm sorry, George. If I thought I could guarantee safe passage, I'd invite you to my planet. You'd be safe there! Though it is rather far from your Earth."
George understood this. The average wormhole could span, at most, about thirty light-years. Mega-wormholes, much less common and only possible under certai
n conditions, might tunnel halfway across the galaxy. There were two in the Reeshi system
Lychel was headed home. Sadly for George, it was twice as far from Earth as the Reeshi Moon.
"Maybe someday I can visit. Take care of yourself, Lychel."
"You also. Good-bye, George."
8
George had enjoyed a warm glow during the conversation. Now he felt an undercurrent of fright. He might fare no better with the Orgafali than with the Reeshi? That had sinister implications.
Lucky Star was the sole human ship in this sector. She was all alone. Whatever had possessed him to wander so far from Earth?
For several years he had hopscotched across the galaxy, moving from system to system, always with new wonders to behold. Oh, he had sometimes felt alone in this great big ship, particularly during the long transit times between planets. But that was nothing new in his life.
He had been born to wealth. It had always isolated him. He was shy by nature and had seldom found means of bridging the gap. In the end, rebuilding and equipping the Lucky Star for starflight had been a great lark, a way to escape all the scheming minions and untrustworthy acquaintances.
He'd had few lovers, found few true friends. He'd discovered it was as easy to stay in touch across galactic distances as it had been across terrestrial ones. He'd never felt homesick.
He felt homesick now.
"George?" said Lydia's voice on the intercom.
"Yes?"
"The ship informs me Hero is not authorized to enter the command sphere."
"I did authorize him."
"It was a one-time authorization."
George sighed. "Ship, give Hero full flight engineer's clearance. Got it?"
"Affirmative. Command executed."
Beneath him, the hatch rumbled open. Lydia and Hero rode the elevator to the control nest and took their places.
Lydia handed George a tray. "That was careless of you, Captain. But you were rushed during our hasty departure." Her face suddenly reddened. "Pardon me for saying so. Old habits die hard."
George suppressed a flare of annoyance. "That's okay. It was careless."
"Enjoy your meal."
He found nothing to complain about. For a time he forgot his troubles and sat munching in profound satisfaction. Lydia and Hero fell to their own meals with equal relish.
9
They was a sudden flash of bright searing light from somewhere ahead, almost in the ship's line of flight. He felt a nasty jolt of alarm.
"Ship! What was that?"
"Please specify further."
"That bright burst of light." George's fingers flew across his control board. The nav display window grew larger, and then zeroed in on the section of sky where the flash had happened. As George had feared, the explosion had been in the vicinity of the Agreeable Path.
"Analysis complete: the light burst was from a plasma weapon."
There was another blazing flash, and then another. George swore under his breath.
Then a bright burning star flared where none had shone before. George had never seen the like, but he knew what it was: a nuclear detonation.
That tiny nova represented the destruction of a ship.
It faded slowly from view.
10
The Zhianese called Z'Garab had awakened.
The Tyreel known as Nungaan stood rooted in a posture of mute respect before a dark glass wall behind which something massive swirled and coiled sluggishly within the green murk. Nungaan knew the master was reviewing events that had transpired while it slept.
Finally a low guttural vibration throbbed up through the floor, filling the air, impossibly slow and ponderous. Nungaan waited patiently for the translation that would come when the master finished speaking.
He had stood thus in Z'Garab's audience chamber for the better part of a day. His legs were weary, but that was a normal state of affairs. He'd stood many such vigils.
Fear for his life surged strongly within him, but he was used to that too; in fact he was hardly aware of it.
"So," came the translation at last. "You've failed us... You didn't bring the wild human... The servant Lydia has escaped with him... The Dalhou who sought to aid them has also escaped..."
"These things are true, exalted one."
"The steps you took in the wake of this failure are... adequate..."
In fact the servants had dared nothing that went beyond established procedure. That pair of fighting craft might have caught the human ship if they had given extended chase, but of course no servant would travel far without express permission. Never mind that the Tyreel were bred in their bones for total loyalty—trust was not in their masters' natures.
Initiative was not rewarded. Though, paradoxically, the masters had seemed to prize it in the servant Lydia. Not for the first time, Nungaan felt a twinge of jealousy.
"You lower orders flit about so annoyingly fast," continued Z'Garab at last. "That won't be an advantage to the humans... once our attention is turned full upon them..."
"No, master."
"Tell us..." said Z'Garab finally. "How would you proceed?"
Nungaan began to tremble. It was bad when a master asked for a suggestion. If the master was bereft of ideas, then resentment of the servant would follow. If the master was setting the servant up to take responsibility for failure—a distinct possibility in this case, since the next steps were fairly obvious ones—that also was bad.
At least a servant had time to think. No master was likely to notice a short pause of indecision.
"We might make it known again that we would, ah, look with favor upon those who would... serve our cause by intercepting the humans," he ventured at last. He had chosen his words carefully, knowing he must not imply the Zhianese would actually deign to reward the lesser orders for anything. "Maybe our newfound influence over the Galactic Net could be of use. Perhaps we might have the human ship destroyed?"
Again the long pause, followed by that awful rumbling voice, like rusty iron weights dragged across rough stone. "If the sentients in this system aren't already aware they must serve our interests, they are foolhardy beings... but we give permission for you to repeat such announcements..."
"Yes, exalted one."
Another pause. "As to your other suggestion... the less you and your brethren think on such matters, the better it will be for you..."
Nungaan felt a cold chill down his spine. It was rare for a master to give such a warning. Perhaps this one valued him? One dared not hope. "I hear and obey, master."
Time stretched out, and the master said nothing further. Nungaan remained in place, however, awaiting dismissal.
"You may go..." said Z'Garab at long last. "You've tasks to complete..."
11
Lucky Star's nav window showed one ship remaining. Its location was somewhat ahead of where the explosion had appeared to take place. The incident had actually occurred many minutes ago.
The nav system usually interfaced with ansible buoys that were present in every civilized system (interstellar commerce hadn't really taken off in Earth space until humanity had constructed their own network of such devices). They gave accurate realtime views of situations like this when visible light might be hours old.
"Ship! Try to establish contact with the Agreeable Path."
"Understood."
"Some friend of yours?" asked Lydia.
George nodded. "Met him on the Reeshi Moon just today, but he was a pretty good friend for all of that."
"I’m so sorry."
George paged back through the display log, trying to find the actual battle. How could an enemy ship have approached so close without him knowing? He had been on the alert for just such an occurrence.
There was a sudden crackle of static, and then Lychel's voice, audio only: "Hello, George. I regret I can't see you, but it's good to speak with you."
"Lychel! What happened? Are you okay?"
"I was intercepted by a Kellarran freighter.
Its captain demanded I dock with him. I refused—quite prudently, I think—and he fired on me. I destroyed him but my ship took heavy damage."
"How heavy?"
"My power core is fractured and will eventually fail."
"Can you make it to Orgafali space?"
"Probably, but perhaps not. So it's a blessing to hear a friendly voice in these, my final days."
"No! If you require assistance, I can rendezvous with you in—" George did a rough calculation in his head."—about six hours."
"It's good of you to offer." Lychel seemed to hesitate. "I fear you aren't seeing the situation clearly."
"So explain it to me. Who are the Kellarrans?"
"A race local to this part of the galaxy. They come and go through Orgafali space. Next to the Reeshi, you probably saw more of them than any others on the Reeshi Moon."
"The tall blue scaly critters with the long tails?"
"An apt description."
"I don't understand. Ships may go armed against outlaws or xenophobic civilizations, but if they fire at each other—" George stopped short and looked over at Lydia.
"The Zhianese could override that protocol," she said. "The Kellarrans are terrified of them."
He scowled in angry denial. "I can't believe what I'm hearing. You said they wouldn't do that in front of witnesses."
"They didn't. A Kellarran captain did."
"Pretty serious consequences for the Kellarrans."
"They'll denounce him as a rogue. But if the protocols are overridden there won't be consequences anyway."
"Who are you're speaking with, George?" asked Lychel. "Did you find the female?"
"No, she found me."
"Hello, Lychel," said Lydia, raising her voice slightly. "Sorry about your troubles."
"I'm warmed by your concern."
"Lychel, we'll rendezvous with you," said George. "Don't give up hope, okay?"
"I would be curious to meet her."
George grinned. "You'll get your wish. Our Reeshi friend from the bar is here, too."
Hero wriggled happily. "I greet you with pleasure, good Captain Lychel!"
Lychel gave his otherworldly laugh. "I believe it would be interesting to share the currents of fate with you folk!"
George laughed in turn. "We'll see you soon."
"It will cost us the least time if I alter course to meet you at your destination. The Relqui gate, isn't it?"
George felt a moment's chagrin. "It's that obvious?"
"No. I tried to put myself in your place, and that's the destination I'd choose."
"I don't see where else we can go. It will take some time. Can you hold out that long?"
"I can. I shall."
"I'll need to put on some speed."
"Deepest thanks, George. This transmission ends."
"Right. End transmission. Ship, initiate acceleration at thirty gravities, gravpulse only. Plot a rendezvous with the merchant vessel Agreeable Path, to occur within two hundred klicks of the Relqui wormhole. Maintain interior gee field at present level."
"Commands executed."
George took hold of the control grips. New course parameters appeared in the Nav window, with a graphic showing the new flight path.
The gravpulse drive throbbed its low drone of power. He laid the Lucky Star into its new groove.
"My goodness," said Lydia. "Your main computer is a lot more versatile than the ones I remember using."
"Same hardware, mostly, just infinite memory and upgraded processor chips." George grinned. "Custom software, too. You didn't have anything to match it in the military version?"
"George, the UN version of this ship was the military version. Those belt miners were out for blood. NASA's ships weren't armed."
"Oh. I stand corrected." He paused. "Lydia, all the sentients in this system are going to know the Kellarran was acting for the Zhianese."
"They won't know for certain."
George frowned. "But that's what they'll think."
"True. Any being with a half-working brain should be able to figure it out."
"So the Zhianese have in fact shown what they are capable of in front of witnesses."
"I doubt there will be any news dispatch about the incident," said Lydia. "We're the only ones close enough to have seen it with our own eyes. Some pilots, if they were paying attention, will know what happened. So there will be rumors. But the Zhianese don't mind rumors; they keep everybody in line."
"This isn't unusual? They've done this sort of thing before?"
Lydia was slow in answering. "No," she said at last. There was a troubled look on her face. "This is definitely an escalation. I guess I was explaining why I think they're going to get away with it."
"I see." George blew out a sigh.
A scary thought occurred to him, something that had been bothering him since he had viewed the recording of Lychel's battle. "We're assuming pilots can trust the ansible buoys for accurate data."
"That may not be a safe assumption."
A chill crawled down his back. "Let's get the hell out of here."
12
Twenty-four hours passed without incident. The K-type sun dwindled to a spark behind them.
At long last they began the deceleration burn. Before another day passed they were within visual range of the wormhole. It hung glittering before them, its containment field giving the appearance of a multifaceted crystalline jewel, all sharp edges and pulsing fire. Bolts of color shot through it like lightning through a prism.
George's heart always quailed within him at the sight. You had to turn your ship completely over to the G-Net to transit one of the things. It took the G-Net's vast computing power to stabilize one. Nobody had ever found another way to accomplish it—hence the G-Net's unavoidable primacy in galactic affairs.
You were surely at your most vulnerable in such moments. He'd made many such transits, but he'd never gotten used to it.