DOWN THE WELLES
or
Deep in a hole
- LXI -
Surgeon Lt. Jones sweated over the operation. The patient was
a very delicate one and exploratory surgery was dangerous for
patient and surgeon alike. Three digit numbers clicked by as he
worked. One zero four... I'd never make it if I left now...
Contrary to popular fiction, when facing danger, one's life
does not pass before ones eyes, one just keeps working up until the
bomb explodes or the vehicle crashes or death in whatever of its
myriad forms hands you your bill and will only take cash.
Zero six three... Jones was oblivious to all save the
detonator and its attendant systems. He didn't even notice
Jietlshaiepr's hands on his shoulders as she prepared herself to
teleport them both out.
Zero two six... Jietlshaiepr monitored her troop as they
submerged at extreme range, at least Niedrsha would be safe... If
it was Niedrsha...?
Zero one four... She began to muster the last of her psionic
strength...
Zero zero nine... Could she teleport them both far enough?
Zero zero eight... She had too...
Zero zero seven... Pop! Jones shivered.
Zero zero seven... Jones collapsed in mirth.
Applause sounded behind them. Jietlshaiepr dove over the
office desk and whirled around with her gauss pistol aimed at the
unknown audience.
A blank videoscreen was activated on the other side of the
office. Its camera was facing them as the screen's speaker sounded
the applause.
"Very good! Very good!" called a saccharine voice. Jones
recognized the leader's voice from the mind probe of the pirate.
He exchanged glances with Jietlshaiepr.
"Glad ya enjoyed it Colonel McNamara." he responded
cheerily.
"Oh, I did very much Lieutenant... Jones isn't it?" responded
the disembodied sweet malevolence, "What do you do for an encore?"
"We win." stated Jietlshaiepr simply.
"Now this IS unusual isn't it?" came the voice with an audible
smirk. "Zhodani teleport commandoes working with the League of
Suns Naval Intelligence? Not something you see every day..."
"No, just every other Thursday." smiled Jones as he began
ransacking the desks and gathering up papers and computer disks.
"Or when we find a common enemy." added Jietlshaiepr.
"Me? Common?" laughed McNamara, "Anyway I suggest you consult
the nearest Consular embassy to find out who the enemy is."
"You DESTROYED the Consulate embassy on this planet." she
reminded him icily.
Jones turned and walked out carrying the documents he'd
gathered.
"Listen." whispered the speaker, "You've just destroyed a
Consular backed secret project. The League spy just walked out of
that office with enough evidence to link the Consulate to this
operation. You must kill the spies before they find out and
destroy that evidence, else we are all doomed."
"Prove it."
"I can't. But their sure to try to sabotage your ship. Kill
them before they kill you. We'll take their bodies and allow your
ship to escape. Now, move! An SDB is on the way to raze that base
in twenty four minutes. And what ever you do, don't let the
transport ships be damaged!"
- LXII -
Miakr started picking up scrambled communications as they
approached in the Gig. He and Shtam began struggling with the
computer coding systems.
At last McNamara's voice came out "...out three thousand
credits? Would that disturb your memory sufficiently?"
Lt. Jones voice answered, "If yer goin' to insult our
loyalties, ya might at least make it an interestin' insult."
"Four thousand... How much do Lieutenants and Ensigns make in
the Navy eh?"
"More 'an that." answered Smith.
"All right, seven thousand."
"Yer not even in the right order o' magnitude." declared Jones
boredly.
"All right. Name it then. Name your own price."
One could hear Jones smile, "Oh, at least... twenty
thousand."
"Done. But for that much I..."
"That's twenty thousand fer each of us." amended Smith.
...Pause...
"Very well. But for that much, I want no one to have heard of
this, including your Zhodani friends."
"Who said they were our friends?" asked Smith.
"In addition to your report being... incomplete, I want all
the documents you took returned, any prisoners released, the two
transport ships untouched, AND you must destroy the Zhodani ship."
"Dragoon would enjoy that." commented Smith.
"I think that might cost ya something extra." cautioned Jones.
"Oh? and may I remind you of the captives my men have taken?
What is the count?... Oh yes... Two thousand six hundred and fifty
one captives, young women between the ages of eleven and twenty
four. Surely, you don't want them burned down with the island do
you?"
"'old on a moment." said Jones.
A radio detonator sat waiting boredly. Suddenly, it heard its
call to destiny.
The fuel tanks of the two transport ships wired up by Miakr
and Vole ruptured spilling compressed liquid hydrogen over the
cargo decks and vaporized instantly. Pressure swelled momentarily
inside the ships then a second charge ignited the inflammable mix
of hydrogen and oxygen. Both ships became bombs which leaped
skyward scattering the hulls to the winds.
"NOW it's a deal." confirmed Jones.
"Not really, you've just lost your biggest bargaining chip,
and my patience."
- LXIII -
They quickly got the transmitter's range and bearing. It lay
on the surface of the water twenty nine kilometers away and
running. Radar could just barely make out the exposed dorsal
section of a scout ship.
They took off in the Gig in pursuit, but the ship submerged.
They flew over the prisoners quarters where the mercenaries
captives sat. They would have to wait evacuation, the Gig was
overcrowded before, now it was doubly so with the unconscious Major
Ollie Sutherland, and the four warbots Miakr had taken control of.
Neither of the two surviving ironclads could carry passengers.
Surely, not even the pirates would...
- LXIV -
They monitored the bombardment of the island from the
Flamboyant. It lasted four hours. Nothing could have survived.
The SDB was joined in it's mission by the Fanzheinz class trader.
The island was leveled.
Two thousand, six hundred and fifty one...
- LXV -
The League of Suns party was meekly disarmed and under guard.
Smith worked on setting Sutherland up for interrogation. Jones and
Jietlshaiepr got to work treating the wounded.
Lt. Dragoon was only lightly wounded. A laser had seared away
the armor on her abdomen leaving third degree burns. There was a
similar burn on her left thigh.
Pvt. Walker was more seriously hurt. A section of her left
arm had been literally burned away. A first rate hospital would
probably have removed the remains of arm and started regeneration
techniques. The Flamboyant had good facilities but nothing that
could start a treatments like that.
"We'll just have to try the old fashioned way." mumbled
Jietlshaiepr.
Turner was dead, but her body could be used. Jones didn't
bother giving it a second thought. "Right, take what ya need if
the tissue type's compatible. I may need some tissue myself fer
skin grafting."
They got to work. Dragoon insisted on a local anesthetic to
watch Jones. She also insisted that the burn on her abdomen be
left ungrafted: she liked the pattern.
Slowly, Jietlshaiepr rebuilt Walker's arm. The entire left
biceps was gone as was brachial artery and a good section of nerve,
but Turner's tissue type proved compatible. Bone grafting proved
unnecessary as the humerus was intact. When it was over,
Jietlshaiepr and Jones collapsed.
- LXVI -
Jietlshaiepr staggered through the door to her darkened
stateroom. Niedrsha sat on the side of the bed staring at his
hands. She watched him closely for a moment. He was a full
eighteen centimeters taller than before... His face was...
changing... It looked as though someone had grafted his head onto
Drert's body. She stepped quietly to him and took his hand. His
hands were larger... the veins and tendons less distinct... maybe
a bit more hair on the back. What about the rest of him?... What
about his mind?
Niedrsha was totally drained: as though some one had switched
off all the emotions in his brain with the casual attitude of
flicking a light switch. He stared down at his hands not wanting
to meet her eyes.
Finally, it was he who broke the silence. "I pulled Drert out
of the armor. He's ready for burial..."
"I'm sorry." was all she could manage.
"I got a good look at 'em when I pulled the armor off." He
looked up with scared eyes. "It's *My* body that's... dead. But
I'm here... This is his... I'm... him?"
She sat next to him and pulled his head to her shoulder. She
looked closely at him. He was right. All the subtle unique things
about his body had changed... More heavily muscled... Slightly
more hirsute... but it was Niedrsha's head that leaned on her
shoulder.
Slowly, through the fog, he realized she was shaking.
He shifted and held her closely, she continued to shake.
Dimly, he realized his shoulder was growing wet.
"What...?"
"Everyone... Dead. Drert... Turner... Crulley... The
Pasadena... The Weehawken... The Shoolist... Two thousand
girls... Two *thousand*!..." Her voice dropped, "Never mind the
three million they killed with their virus..."
She looked him in the eye with tears on her face. "And...
I... nearly lost... *You*..."
She drew a half sobbed breath, "Are you really Niedrsha?"
She clung tightly to him as she sobbed herself to sleep. What
seemed hours later, Niedrsha numbly realized he was on the verge of
unconsciousness from fatigue. "Hmmm. I'm exhausted. I suppose I
should sleep." He fell asleep with Jiet's question rattling around
in his (or was it Drert's?) brain.
- LXVII -
Slowly, they brought Major Ollie Sutherland to consciousness.
Jones read his mind as he came back inside the sensory deprivation
chamber.
Anger... Aggression... Hate... Kill... seeped from the
semiconscious mind as it rose toward full consciousness. Suddenly,
all went blank. Ollie had put up a psi shield.
"Well, it explains 'is lack of wounds." sighed Jones, "'e must
be able te regenerate 'imself psionically."
"Ok." nodded Jietlshaiepr, "He's psionic. Well, he's not a
teleport, or he'd not be here. The question is, does he know any
other psionic disciplines?"
- LXVIII -
An hour later, Vole reported that Ollie's shield was down.
Jones read his mind. A picture came through, a picture of the
inside of the Gig where he was standing.
"All right he's clairvoyant." nodded Smith. "That'll ruin our
sensory deprivation work."
Jones shook his head. "Not necessarily. Might take longer,
bu' surely the deprivation'll wear 'im down regardless."
- LXIX -
A neural activity sensor was left pointed at Ollie. The
moment he lowered his shield and showed on the detector, a telepath
was there to read his mind. Jietlshaiepr, Smith and Jones worked
in four hour shifts. Every three or four hours the neural activity
sensor went off. A picture began to emerge: the Gig... the
ship... the bridge... the engine room... the hold... the
turrets... the Vipers in their bays...
It was then that Lt. Jones suggested putting a guard on the
fighter bays.
- LXX -
It was near the end of Ens. Smith's watch when the sensor went
off again. Stuzzel looked over at her boredly. He was guarding
her. The Flamboyant crew hadn't totally believed that Smith and
Jones had been trying to fool whoever had been on the other side of
the radio conversation. She looked into a mind that was full of
anger and hate and was gripping someone by the throat.
Suddenly, her consciousness was fading. She reeled over into
the chair she'd just stood up from. Stuzzel dropped his ACR and
clutched his own throat.
As she lost conciousness, she saw the low berth open of its
own accord and Major Ollie Sutherland step out.
- LXXI -
Miakr was bored. He'd been standing in the corridor outside
the lower fighter bay for five hours and was *bored*. One of the
captured warbots could do the job very easily if he could readjust
the command recognition programming and the recognition program...
fairly easy stuff but it tends to take ones whole attentio...
An iris valve opened. Ah, company...
ACR slugs caught him as he turned. The gauss pistol spat in
reply but shock and pain spoiled his aim as he fell to the deck.
Alarms began to blare. A minute later, Lt. Jones was leaning
over him examining the wounds as Shtam went for the fighter bay
hatch. Already one could hear the bay flooding with water as the
fighter was prepared for release.
Shtam punched the intercom. "He's escaping in Viper number
two. Kfoks, launch in number one immediately. We've got to get
the Flamboyant powered up and ready for anything. All hands:
battle stations." He turned and ran to his engines.
- LXXII -
Kfoks ran his fingers over the Viper's console. "Bridge, give
me emergency starting power!" The power lines surged with the
power necessary for a powered kindle fire in the fighter's fusion
plant. Quickly, the plant reached threshold and Kfoks hit the
starter. "Lucky he took Stuzzel's Viper, Tuerz always keeps his
ship preflighted for emergencies. Bless his minescule, paranoid,
psychopathic heart!"
The cables dropped automatically as Kfoks called for release.
Water poured in over the Viper and the upper hatch opened. Slowly,
the Viper rose from the bay into the black waters. The tiny
fighter was blind. None of her sensors worked underwater unless
you counted landing lights as sensors.
"Well, I can't talk to the Flamboyant for directions, but he
wouldn't be sticking around down here anyway..."
He pushed for full power and began to rise slowly as the power
plant rose to meet the demand. By the time the plant was at
capacity, he could see the surface of the ocean overhead. He burst
from the water like a flying fish and sparkled in the sun. The
Viper opened her eyes.
"Tally ho!" The sensors picked out the fleeing target.
Bearing: nine six degrees. Speed: One point oh five kilometers
per second. Range: Fifty two kilometers.
Quickly, Kfoks line up his target lock on radar. Incoming
radar pulses on me!... He flipped on the EMS jammer and threw the
Viper into a series of spiralling zig zags away from the
illuminating radar. Quickly he was free from the searchlight and
returned his concentration to pursuit and attack.
Radar lock... now... Ladar... Missile away!...
The missile blazed in on the fleeing target which dipped and
screamed off wildly dodging to the south and then nose down and
went for the deck. The missile sped past close but missed. The
enemy Viper rolled over and resumed its flight.
The radio squawked, "Any ships in orbit, this is Major
Sutherland. I've escaped from the enemy vessel, requesting
assistance. Over."
"Roger, Major we're reading you. What do you need? Over."
Kfoks kicked on the radio jammer and lined up on target. A
second missile sped away on course to the fleeing Viper. With the
radio jammer on he was screaming his location, but if that bastard
managed to call in fire from orbit...
Sutherland dodged and pulled up sharply into the clouds. The
missile sped after him.
Kfoks watched the clouds as he flew towards them and waited.
No sign of impact. On radar the targets converged. Kfoks fired
his third missile as he blazed toward the targets.
The second missile blazed by the twisting craft. Then
Sutherland spun her around to bear on Kfoks.
The laser sensor horn blared. Damn, Ollie had a good lock on
him. A piercing sound went through Kfoks ears: Enemy missile
launch.
He rolled the controls into a twisting turn that fought the
inertial compensators. The Viper responded like a thing alive
while the missile homed in on him.
Kfoks cut the jammers and put the Viper on its tail, climbing
straight up at a kilometer a second. He threw it into a corkscrew
that sent the missile off. It flew by fifty meters from the
twisting fighter.
Kfoks flipped his charger back toward his adversary. Radar
sweep negative. Vrassssh! Have I lost him? He spun back on
Ollie's previous bearing: niner six.
He peeled back the Viper's eye lids and checked the sky.
Nothing... Nothing... Nothing... Nothing...
A smudge...? A faint trace ran across the radar screen. IR
made it out as about three thousand degrees... Falling fast...
Finally, the wreckage fell into the sea.
- LXXIII -
Kfoks met Tuerz on his way back. Tuerz had taken the Gig off
in pursuit shortly after Kfoks but had been left behind by the
airfoil streamlining of the Vipers and the slow power build up of
the larger power plant.
"Are you sure you got the bastard? Over."
"Negative, I didn't see it hit, but I picked up what looked
like falling wreckage. Couldn't have survived if I hit him.
Over."
"You'd better have! He's killed Stuzzel! His throat's been
crushed!"
- LXXIV -
Sensor readings by the Flamboyant were more definite. The
target had been hit. They were also certain that the two SDBs and
Fanzheinz class trader were positioning themselves in orbit over
the Flamboyant just inside laser range.
Then they picked it up. On the other side of Welles a fusion
plant was climbing to full power; the scout ship they'd spotted on
the surface was lifting off.
At Smith's suggestion they went over every system of the ship.
Ollie was a clairvoyant telekinetic and had had access to every
part of the ship. God knows what mischief he might have left
behind.
- LXXV -
Jietlshaiepr came to the lounge still in her bathrobe. The
escape had started during her off watch. Shtam made his report
first. The main circuit breakers to the laser batteries had been
pulled. Hap hazard sabotage, but enough to silence the lasers and
easy enough for the weak strength of low power telekinesis.
Gresha had uncovered much nastier stuff. One of the missile
tube indicator lights had been shorted along with the outer door.
If they had opened the tube to reload, the ship would have been
flooded.
Ens. Smith had rapidly recovered from being throttled, but
Stuzzel's larynx had been crushed. Miakr had taken two slugs in
the chest which Lt. Jones and Vole were removing at the moment.
"All in all it could have been much worse." admitted
Jietlshaiepr, "Poor Stuzzel, what a bastard..."
- LXXVI -
Gresha looked up from the sensors. "I was right Jiet." her
tail wagged with pride, "They're headed out. All four ships
proceeding to jump point at one G acceleration."
Jietlshaiepr put her arm around Gresha's shoulders and gazed
into the sensor read out. "Zhdantva!" she breathed, "It's over!"
The pirate flotilla docked with the SDBs at jump point. The
SDB power plants throttled back to minimum and were lost on their
cometary courses. Then the two starships jumped.
- LXXVII -
The Flamboyant made a brief appearance at Welles Starport.
Captain Billy the third, aged fourteen or fifteen, gave the crew
faint praise for their efforts. It seemed that the Laramie and the
Bismark had already reported the outcome of the battle. The
planetary ruler didn't seem to care overly much who had won the
battle, just as long as he didn't have to worry about it.
Now that Fleet Admiral Colorado had died aboard the Pasadena,
the Captain had lost his regent. The next in line was the
hereditary Fourth Officer of the Warsaw, Commander Loren
Farnsworthy, captain of the Bismark.
Fortunately, Commander Farnsworthy was far more capable than
the hereditary Captain. She would see to the reconstruction of the
planet, and promised Jietlshaiepr that The League of Suns was not
the only place help would be appealed to. The Zhodani Consulate
Embassy would be appealed to. The Droyne crew would stay as
unofficial Consular representatives while awaiting the return of
the Chekbas. They were, after all, Consular citizens, and the
Droyne cruiser would carry the formal request for aid to the sector
capitol at Massina.
The League of Suns, however, was much closer and could render
aid more swiftly and would be very interested in strengthening its
borders. Still, Farnsworthy did not seem to be one to let her
planet be annexed by friend or foe (all the better for the distant
Consulate.)
The captured grav tank was handed over to the locals as a
joint gift from the League and Consulate lest their antagonists
return. It could not be carried by the Flamboyant, though the
captured Air/Raft hardly made up for the loss of the Viper and the
VIXEN.
- LXXVIII -
"Well, whot's yer next move, Jietlshaiepr?" asked Lt. Jones.
"Oh, we're going to see if anything is salvageable from the
VIXEN, if we can find it. It was left adrift. It may still have
some useful material aboard."
"An' then?" prompted Ens. Smith.
"I don't really think you need to know that." smiled
Jietlshaiepr, "Mostly I'll be glad to leave before your rescue
party can show up and detain us. But after we leave I see no
reason for you to know where we go.
"It has a been pleasure working with you," she continued while
shaking hands with them, "but now I must leave."
Jones smiled. "Till we meet again..."
He paused and left the last words unspoken, "On Zylath..."