Day of the Dragonstar (36 page)

Authors: David Bischoff,Thomas F. Monteleone

And
hide
he would bloody well have to do, thought Ian. The black-hearted son of a bitch! He had known that men such as Jashad existed, but he had never dealt with his ilk until now. There was only one thing they understood, and if he had to, Ian intended to speak the assassin’s language.

Past the mandala and the panorama of spectacular images he walked, entering the final chamber. He saw that the lights were already blazing and he knew that Jashad had come this far.

“First,” came a voice, “I suggest you not move.”

Ian froze in his tracks. Because of the echoey nature of the voice, he could not pinpoint its origin.

“You thought I was weaponless, O brave warrior?” Jashad said. “I, weaponless? How amusing. No, you shall make a worthy hostage. I presently have trained upon you a very deadly handgun I kept in a holster on my shin . . .”

Ian swept the area with his peripheral vision. He spotted a set of combat fatigues, illumined by the glow of information screens all blazing with their own spectral light.

“Now, please. Place your weapon on the floor slowly. Kick it away from you. Raise your hands above your face, then face me. In
that
order, please.”

A sudden turn would be no good. This was a trained assassin he was dealing with. Finely honed reflexes . . .

Coopersmith realized he had to buy time.

He began to lower his weapon.

From the comer of his eye, Coopersmith saw a form coming toward them, saw Jashad, panicked, swing his weapon, fire.

In that instant, Coopersmith swung around and squeezed off an entire clip from his rifle, panning the barrel back and forth. The volley of slugs ripped through Jashad’s midsection, lifting him off his feet and stitching him to the wall behind him. His eyes still open, his face still recording that final shock, he slowly slid to the floor, leaving a crimson trail of his progress on the polished surface of the wall.

Dead by the sword he lived by.

Coopersmith ran to the form that had distracted the assassin. Blood spattered one shoulder. Thesaurus the saurian struggled to get up, eyes glittering in the light of the information screen, transfixed.

“I’m glad to see that the rumors of your death were entirely exaggerated,” Coopersmith said, letting him lean against his side.

Something garbled emerged from the saurian’s mouth.

“But then, how would they know if a saurian’s dead or not, what?”

Thesaurus’s eyes remained on the screen.

“That’s right. Apparently we’ve got one to teach us, too. But I’d better get you back. Who knows—maybe you’ll be around long enough to help us learn what that thing there says.” Coopersmith lifted the saurian up, and began to carry him toward the .exit. “I sure hope so, pal. You just saved my life.”

“Good,” the saurian said. “Good.”

His eyes remained wide open all the way to the temple and the waiting others, taking in whatever they could.

REBECCA THALBERG HANDED
Phineas Kemp his cup of coffee. “One sugar. Just a dash of cream. Lukewarm.

“I’m touched,” Kemp said wearily. “You remembered.”

She ignored his implicit sarcasm. “Are you sure you want this? Maybe you should just turn in. It’s been a long day.” They were in the mess hall of the
Heinlein.

“How’s your leg?”

“It smarts a bit. That’s all. I’ll live.”

Kemp sighed. “You know he’s married, don’t you, Becky?” He didn’t look at her.

“Men like Ian usually are.”

“You love him?”

“Very much.”

Kemp sipped at his coffee. Absolutely perfect. Better than he could have made himself.

“What about
him?
Does he feel the same way?”

“Look, Phineas. We were two lost people. We needed each other.” She shook her dark hair. “Oh. That’s right. You don’t know what it’s like to
need
someone, do you, Phineas?” There was no rancor in her voice.

“So then. “ Kemp could not look at her. He held his emotions in rigid check. “Is he going back to his wife?”

“Our relationship is over, Phineas.”

“Oh?” Kemp looked up, unable to keep the hope from his eyes.

“And I’m afraid that that part of
our
relationship is over as well, Phineas.”

Kemp was stunned. “But Becky. If it’s that way with Coopersmith . . . Why?”

“Because I know the sort of man I want now, Phineas. And I’m afraid that you just don’t fit the bill. I’ll always be fond of you. We can’t help but be friends. This is, if your pride allows.”

“God,” Kemp said bitterly. “What a way to end the day.”

“Things
have
been twisted around a bit, haven’t they?” She went to him and gently put her arms around his neck. “Our whole concept of where we came from, where we’re going as a race, and as individuals . . . I’ve changed, Phineas. You have to understand that. I have to get my own life together before I can minister to someone else’s.”

“I never—”

“Shh. You’re upset now. You’re fatigued. We can talk about this later. We’ll have plenty of time, Phineas. I have the feeling that the rest of our lives are going to be quite exciting. This is just the beginning.”

“I think I’ve had enough excitement for a long time.”

“You don’t blame yourself, do you, Phineas?”

“Well, let’s just say that ever since we first caught sight of this ship, my self-esteem has been knocked down a few pegs.”

“You’ll live. “ She patted him on the shoulder. “Ian estimates about another week and a half before we get back to Earth orbit. “

“Yes. Thank God we can at least rely on our technology.”

She leaned over and kissed him on the forehead.

“Good night, Phineas. I’ll see you at breakfast.”

“Good night, Becky.”

She sauntered out, pausing for a moment at the exit, as though she had something else she had to say. Mikaela Lindstrom, carrying a tray with a sandwich and a glass of milk atop it, brushed past her, with a mild greeting. Becky smiled to herself, then left.

“I should have asked you if you wanted something to eat,” Mikaela said as she set down the tray. “Want half of a tuna fish on rye?”

Kemp shook his head. “Hungry work, realizing the truth about your universe, isn’t it?”

Mikaela said, “It still hasn’t sunk in yet.” She took a swallow of her milk.

“I’ll tell you the one thing about it all that bothers me,” Kemp said.
“Why?”

“Why what?” Mikaela asked.

“Why did the aliens do it? It just doesn’t make any sense.”

“Well, perhaps it is irrational. But you know, Phineas, there is more to existence than the strictly rational view.” She was thoughtful for a moment. “Okay, Let’s take an example. Human beings. When people get to be of a certain age, a certain
maturity,
when they see that they can’t continue on indefinitely, isn’t it their natural inclination to begin a family, to have children who will carry on after them . . . and so on? How do we know that when a civilization reaches a certain maturity in the cosmos, its natural inclination is to spawn another,
different
civilization? That’s what this one did, evidently, with the raw materials that were available to it. I mean, Phineas, doesn’t it feel good to know that somewhere out there are our
parents?
And they may well be here anytime to say hello. It’s staggering, that’s what it is.”

“I suppose I’m just a bit homocentric. I always dreamed of being part of the spearhead to the stars myself.” Kemp said.

“This is paradise for me, Phineas. I
love
it here. All the things we’re going to discover . . . have
already
discovered. It makes me grateful I’m alive.” She munched her sandwich. “It gives me an appetite.
You’re
certainly cheerful, Phineas. Come on, brighten up! Everything has turned out at least reasonably well.” She put down her sandwich, and looked at him. “Oh. I suspect that Becky’s pretty much told you how things stand with you two.”

“That’s right.”

“I pretty much saw it coming.”

“Oh, did you?”

“You must admit, scaled against the rest of what’s happened today, it’s pretty unimportant.”

“She’s alive, and she’s well, and she’s doing what she wants to do. I guess that’s what’s important, isn’t it?” Kemp said. “Well, at any rate, Mikaela, I just can’t help feeling that my relationship with Becky is just one more thing I’ve screwed up in my life.”

“You feel cast adrift, I bet. Unable to relate to what’s happened, or to who you used to be. You’ve changed, Phineas. It happens to us all. You’ll grow because of it, I assure you.”

“You’ve been through things like this before?”

“Oh, all the time I’ve had a few fairly traumatic things happen to me in my life, that seemed to leave me out
in the cold. I survived, though.”

“I didn’t realize. You’ll tell me about them sometime?”

“Certainly,” she answered. “We’ll have lots of time, Phineas.” Her voice had a warmth that went beyond friendship. Slowly, she ate the rest of her sandwich, staring frankly at Kemp. She gulped the rest of her milk, then licked her lips.

Kemp blinked, surprised.

“You know, Phineas. This has been a pretty tense day. How about coming over to my cabin for a drink? There’s no reason to end a day like this so dourly.”

Her blond hair shone softly in the light. The invitation gleamed mischievously in her eyes.

Kemp felt uncomfortable. “Why, uhm, that sounds . . . quite nice, Mikaela.”

She stood, and as she walked around the table toward him, he noticed the lithe lines and curves of her body beneath the tight jumpsuit flow, exquisitely feminine.

She stood behind him and slowly began to rub his shoulders. “We Swedes are famed for massage, you know.”

“Ah.” Already he could feel his tension dissolving under the graceful touch of her fingers. He chuckled to himself.

“What’s so amusing?” Mikaela asked.

“I’m just wondering why you like me, I suppose. I’m not so sure I’m so crazy about myself any more.”

Mikaela’s laughter, was musical.

“Dear, dear Phineas. Haven’t you guessed? I’m a paleontologist. I’ve always wanted a dinosaur of my very own.”