Star Raider Page 7

  An armored guard approached them. “State your purpose,” he said.

  Tanner showed the guard his ID slate.

  “That way,” the guard said, pointing in the distance.

  Soon, the two waited behind a portable force screen. They watched a crane lower the Dark Star from an upper-level docking bay.

  The Gladius-class raider was circular-shaped with a bubble area above and below. It had battered stealth plating and odd, anti-sensor angles here and there. The ship boasted two torpedo tubes, several point-defense autocannons and a particle beam emitter. The ship had more cargo area than one would suppose—the vessel was one hundred meters in diameter—and could comfortably transport ten people.

  Tanner, Greco and Jordan had worked hard to keep the Dark Star running smoothly these past four years.

  “Wasn’t sure I was ever going to see her again,” Greco said.

  Tanner nodded. He had begun to feel likewise.

  “I don’t like this leaving Jordan behind, though,” Greco said. “It seems like we should spring her.”

  “Just the two of us?” Tanner asked.

  “Be hard, I know.”

  “Yeah,” Tanner said. “It would be that.”

  Greco became thoughtful, scratching his side. “If you ask me, leaving her is bad luck.”

  “She has Rigellian fever. What am I supposed to do?”

  Greco scratched harder. “You can feel the bad luck swirling around us, can’t you, boss?”

  “That’s crap. A man makes his own luck.”

  “That’s when I know something is really eating you—when you begin talking about making your own luck. That’s always a dead giveaway.”

  “Whatever,” Tanner said.

  Greco hooted without humor. “I just realized you were paid a lot of dough upfront. Jordan’s medical costs, freeing the Dark Star…” The apeman shook his hairy head.

  “The people who fronted us the money know the consul.”

  Greco raised his eyebrows. “Boss, this is a setup. No one pays upfront like that. They’re playing us.”

  “Maybe, but what else do you suggest I do? If I didn’t take the money, you’d still be in lockup, Jordan would be dying and I’d probably be dead.”

  “That’s a good question,” Greco said. “But I’m just an apeman, so what do I know?”

  “Would you drop that already? I said I was sorry for saying that over a year ago.”

  Greco’s head snapped up. “You never said you were sorry.”

  “I must have.”

  “No. I’d remember.”

  “Well, you forgot this time.”

  “Boss, you never say you’re sorry, especially if you really are.”

  Tanner scowled. He hated apologizing and didn’t plan to start now.

  “Hey, are those our employers?” Greco asked, tugging one of Tanner’s sleeves.

  Tanner looked where the apeman pointed. What he saw instinctively caused his gun-hand to drop onto the butt of his holstered weapon.

  Patrician Ursa rode a cart with the tribune and the two rankers riding with her on one side. On the other side was a man in black, Lacy and two monstrous blue-skinned humanoids with tiny heads. Those two wore leather straps in lieu of clothing and were outrageously male. Behind the cart followed twenty others brimming with luggage and metal boxes.

  “We’re going to be seriously outnumbered this trip,” Greco said.

  “Yeah,” Tanner said, not liking this one bit.

  “What if they try to hijack us once we’re in space?”

  Tanner had an urge to draw his gun. He was going to miss Jordan with her hacking skills and deadly sub-rifle. Just what was going on, anyway, and what were those humanoid giants? Each looked as if it could rip the raider apart with its bare hands.

  “Lithians,” Greco said, with the snap of his fingers.

  “What’s that?”

  “The two blue monsters,” Greco said. “They’re Lithians. They’re supposed to be incredibly savage. They come from the planet Lithia. Earthmen colonized the planet ages ago. Lithians have even worse genetic drift than those of Avernus. I’ve never heard of a civilized Lithian. Usually, they tear regular people apart.”

  “Those two are sitting with no problem,” Tanner said.

  “Boss, this is weird. I mean, truly weird. Something ain’t right.”

  “I agree. So we keep on our toes until we can dump this bunch.”

  Greco glanced at Tanner. “Go back on our word?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “But that’s what you’re implying.”

  Tanner studied the approaching vehicles. “We stay alert. If they do anything wrong that breaks the compact between us we can legally defend ourselves by getting rid of them.”

  “What if they get the drop on us before that?”

  Tanner nodded slowly. “We’re going to have to make sure that doesn’t happen, now aren’t we?”

  -10-

  As the crane lowered the raider onto the main deck, the ship extended landing gear. Once it had settled, a ramp in the middle of Dark Star lowered onto the hangar floor.

  Shortly thereafter, a worker in a brown jumpsuit approached the portable screen. He shut off it from his cart.

  “Tanner?” the man asked.

  The centurion stepped forward.

  “If you would sign here, sir,” the worker said, holding out a slate.

  Tanner took the manifest, written in regular script. He noted the routine checkups on the fusion core, the hyperdrive, the torpedo tubes and the particle beam emitter.

  “What’s this?” he asked. “It says here you took all the torpedoes off?”

  “That’s standard docking procedure, sir,” the man said. “Your extra charge was added because you carried proscribed torpedoes. You can flip the screen to read the addendum on privately owned vessels and their legal munitions. Just to let you know, the particle beam emitter is also offline. Naturally, the point-defense cannons are primed and ready.”

  “When do I get the torpedoes back?”

  The man shook his head.

  A spot in the back of Tanner’s head threatened to begin throbbing. He hated Calisto Grandee. “Okay. When do I get reimbursed for my torpedoes, then?”

  “Your adjuster should have gone over that with you,” the man said. “You signed the release form agreeing to our terms. You should already know Calisto Grandee doesn’t reimburse a private traveler for any confiscated proscribed items.”

  “I didn’t see any of that on the adjuster’s form,” Tanner said. Had the slick bastard gotten something over on him?

  “No use getting angry at me over it, sir. I’m just the transporter. Now, will you sign the form or not? If not, I’m going to have to take your ship back to storage.”

  “Is this why Calisto Grandee is so rich?” Tanner asked with heat. “You rob your guests?”

  The transporter frowned. “Those are rude words, sir. I’m supposed to report them. It would add to your departure fee, you know. This time, though, I’m willing to overlook the infraction, but please don’t do it again.”

  Tanner was thoroughly sick of Calisto Grandee. He just wanted to leave this place. Yet, they had taken all seven of his torpedoes, making him substantially weaker against any attacker. The torpedoes had been expensive, too. Who would pocket the credits for taking them? He wondered if it was the senior adjuster.

  “If you’re not going to sign the manifest—”

  “Give me that,” Tanner said, taking the slate from the transporter. He signed with an angry flourish.

  “Glad to be of service to you, sir,” the worker said. “Here’s your control unit to the ship.”

  Tanner pocketed it and motioned to Greco.

  The worker cleared his throat. “Aren’t you forgetting something, sir?”

  Tanner looked back. “Why don’t you tell me so I don’t have to guess what it is?”

  “At this point,” the man said, “a gratuity is in order.”

/>   Tanner blinked, hardly believing what he heard. “Sure,” he said. “I’d be glad to. Find the man who stole my torpedoes and tell him I told you to give him half the proceeds.”

  “I don’t understand the joke, sir.”

  “I guess we’re even, then, because I don’t understand Calisto Grandee. Come on, Greco. Let’s get out of here.”

  The two left the worker staring after them, as they strode for the Dark Star. They reached the raider at the same time as the carts parked.

  The tribune jumped off his seat, giving Patrician Ursa a hand as she stepped down. The two of them approached Tanner.

  She whispered into the tribune’s ear. The big man nodded, approaching Tanner alone.

  He was several centimeters taller than Tanner with broader shoulders and a thicker chest. Seeing him for the second time, it dawned on Tanner that the tribune was related to Ursa, cousins perhaps. They had the same nose and chin.

  “Is everything in order?” the tribune asked.

  “As good as can be expected,” Tanner said.

  The tribune eyed him. “I detect hesitation in your answer. What is the problem?”

  Tanner debated with himself. Could the tribune retroactively withdraw the credits, or recommend to the patrician they be withdrawn? Tanner’s innate honesty won out.

  “One of my crew is sick with Rigellian fever. She’s going to remain in medical.”

  “How seriously will that harm your efficiency?” the tribune asked.

  “We’ll make do.”

  “That isn’t what I asked.”

  “Now that I think about it,” Tanner said, “you’re right. It isn’t.”

  The tribune’s face flushed. “You would do well to keep a respectful tone in my presence.”

  Tanner felt Greco’s fingers plucking at his jacket from behind, but he ignored the mechanic as he stepped closer to the tribune.

  “I’m the captain of the ship. You’d do well to remember that. Your fancy airs don’t impress me, so don’t bother blustering.”

  “Do you realize who I am?”

  “The lady’s lackey, I assume.”

  “Please, boss,” Greco whispered from behind, “at least wait until we’re off Calisto Grandee.”

  “You will keep your creature silent in my presence,” the tribune said. “And if you fail to address my sister with the proper respect, I will have my men beat some civility into you.”

  His sister—Patrician Ursa is the tribune’s sister?

  Tanner’s heated reply died in his throat. The insignia on the tribune’s uniform finally penetrated. The man was the heir of House Varus, one of the most powerful prewar houses on Remus.

  The tribune and Ursa weren’t just patricians, then, but the highest patricians of Remus. Before the Coalition War, Remus had been a deeply stratified society. The war years had broken down some of that. Thus, a centurion like Tanner had rubbed shoulders with high-class patricians in the AirSpace Service. Still, most of the upper class always made sure he and others like him knew their place.

  A host of conflicting feelings and thoughts warred for Tanner’s attention. What were two of the highest-ranking patricians doing hiring his raider? Why would two like them have tried to trick him so crassly in the cell?

  “I will speak to the heir of House Varus with respect,” Tanner said, “and do likewise with his sister.”

  “That’s better,” the tribune said.

  “However…Lord,” Tanner said. “I will not tolerate anyone speaking to my mechanic with anything but respect.”

  The tribune frowned. “Mechanic?” he asked.

  “I’m referring to Greco,” Tanner said, indicating the apeman. “He is fully human and can speak to anyone on my ship as he wishes.”

  The tribune’s eyes narrowed, as did his lips. “I have spoken regarding the creature,” he said.

  “So have I, Lord.”

  The tribune stared at Tanner. Tanner found it difficult to meet the stare with the same ferocity as before. A lifetime of training was difficult to overcome.

  Tanner spread his feet in an effort to bolster his courage. Then, he set his hand on the butt of his holstered gun.

  “Consul Maximus gave me a charge, Lord. I have fulfilled it to the best of my ability. I intend to continue fulfilling it. That means I must back my crew, and on my ship and in my presence, no one had better treat Greco with anything other than respect.”

  “Bold words, Captain,” the tribune said.

  “Just so you and I understand each other, Lord.”

  “I understand you are rash, but that you possess a native cunning in small vessel maneuvering and fighting. Keep your…crew out of my way and we won’t have any problems. That goes double for my sister.”

  “Marcus,” Ursa said, having moved up. “We must speed the process. This is taking too long.”

  Tribune Marcus Varus nodded without turning to his sister. “I will make quick introductions, Centurion. Then, we shall be on our way, yes?”

  “Yes, Lord,” Tanner said.

  “First, these are my lifeguards,” Marcus said, as he snapped his fingers.

  The two praetorians hurried near.

  “This is First Sword Lupus and Second Sword Vulpus.”

  The two looked remarkably similar with thickset bodies and close-set, gray eyes. With a shock, Tanner realized they were guard clones, psychologically unable to raise a hand against House Varus patricians. There were rumors that some houses injected animal DNA into guard clones in order to give them speeded reflexes and heightened strength. It was possible these two seldom or never talked. Tanner understood then that Marcus’s praetorian uniform was a disguise.

  “Glad to meet you,” Tanner said, holding out his right hand to them.

  Neither ranker paid him any attention.

  Marcus jerked his head to the side. The two lifeguards retreated to flank Ursa.

  “Was the handshake test necessary?” Marcus asked quietly.

  Tanner had heard before that the way to test full humanity with guard clones was to try to shake hands with them. Now, he believed it was true.

  “They cannot speak?” Tanner asked.

  “Given the right conditions,” Marcus said, “they can speak just fine. I doubt they will ever say a word to you, though.”

  Tanner ingested that as he realized it was dishonorable to allow undermen to wear praetorian uniforms. Marcus and Ursa were playing dangerous games.

  “Centurion Tanner,” Marcus said, “this is Lord Acton. Lord Acton, this is our captain for the voyage, Centurion Tanner of Remus.”

  “Hello,” the man said in an odd accent but with a rich, baritone voice.

  Tanner shook hands. Acton had a firm grip, but his palm was greasy. Despite that, the man exuded a presence, a sense of age and wisdom. He had thick, graying hair and wore an expensive black suit with tails and heavy boots.

  Tanner had no idea regarding Acton’s planet of origin. It didn’t seem to be from the local region of space.

  He flexed his right hand, rubbed the palm against his pants and felt compelled to stare into Acton’s eyes. For an instant, something like…cosmic awareness seemed to swirl there. It proved frightening, a growing force pressing against Tanner’s mind. At what seemed like the last moment, he resisted the sensation. This was weird. He felt as he had back in the slums chased by bigger, stronger boys. He remembered the helplessness of his youth. He had vowed on many nights to find a way to protect himself for the rest of his life.

  “No!” Tanner shouted.

  The feeling of cosmic awareness fled from Acton’s eyes. The pressure dissipated, and Tanner found himself before the man with his fists raised before his eyes like shields.

  Tanner lowered his hands, feeling self-conscious. He found Marcus waiting for him, seemingly unconcerned with what had just happened. Greco had gone into the ship. Ursa was looking away.

  Tanner dared to peer at Lord Acton again.

  “Hello,” the man said just as he had earlier.
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  Tanner opened his mouth, wanting to ask the man what had just happened.

  “I do hope the Lithians won’t be a problem,” Acton said.

  Tanner had to work to penetrate the accent. He was barely conscious of the man holding a small black device. “No,” he said.

  “Excellent,” Acton said.

  Was it Tanner’s imagination or did the man tap the device with his thumb?

  Farther away, the monstrous brutes grunted, lifting huge boxes, and approached them. The Lithians towered over Tanner. Their skin looked leathery and their bulkiness and density—they might have each weighted as much as a yearling bull on Remus.

  “If you could show them where to store the equipment…?” Acton said.

  “Of course,” Tanner said. “This way,” he told the Lithians. The ramp creaked under their weight.

  After Tanner showed the blue giants the main cargo-holds, he realized that what had just happened had been strange. It wasn’t just his response, but the lack of responses from Marcus and Ursa. Did Acton have mental powers or some strange force of personality?

  Who was Acton and how did he control the two savages? What was in all those metal boxes?

  Tanner was determined to go ask Marcus. It was only later as the Dark Star left the hangar bay he realized he’d forgotten to do that.

  Did Acton do something to my mind?

  Tanner was beginning to agree with Greco. This trip had the stink of very bad luck indeed.

  -11-

  Tanner piloted them out of Calisto Grandee, carefully obeying the flight instructions from the gigahab’s Space Central.

  A nagging doubt troubled him, and he wasn’t sure why or what the doubt entailed. He certainly recalled the strange Lord Acton. The man’s eyes had power. Later, the man had overseen the loading, seldom letting the Lithians out of his sight.

  Lacy had nodded to him once and then locked herself in her quarters. Was she embarrassed because of her previous actions in the gigahab’s halls, or was it something else?

  Tanner didn’t have time to worry about her.

  Lord Acton was in his quarters now, too, and the Lithians were in theirs. Tanner had had his doubts about the blue giants being alone.

  “They will hibernate until I wake them,” Lord Acton had informed him, as if the man could read his thoughts.