Rebel (20 page)

"Now I need a favor."

"Another favor, you mean."

"Fine. Another favor."

"What is it?"

"I want you to get me the registration of a Navy ship, and any computer codes unique to it—and then either destroy it or at least put it out of action for a week, without letting it send any messages. Can you do that?"

"Some revolutionary I'd be if I couldn't!" snorted Lafferty. "How soon do you need it?"

"The sooner the better. I've got to rig a ship to impersonate it, and I can't do that until you give me the information I need."

"Give me two days."

"Fine."

"And have dock space ready for five hundred ships," continued Lafferty. "Once we do this, I think we're ready to take our place at your side."

"Are you sure?" asked Cole. "You're a lot safer where you are."

"We've been talking about rebellion for years. We've committed all these men and ships. Now we've got a leader who's known throughout the Republic. If we don't do it now, we never will."

"Then we're happy to have you," said Cole. "You know the coordinates of Singapore Station?"

"Someone in our fleet will," said Lafferty. "You'll be hearing from me soon, and then we'll be off to join you."

The transmission ended.

"Well, David," said Cole, "we just doubled our size again."

"We're almost a thousand ships now," said Copperfield. "I'm starting to think that this just might work."

"We don't need a thousand ships to attack a rescue party."

"I mean this whole thing—kicking them out of the Inner Frontier for good." The little alien looked at Cole. "Don't you agree?"

"Anything's possible," said Cole.

Lafferty got his Navy ship in thirteen hours, and sent all the information to Cole. It was the
Hungry Raptor,
it held eight men—Cole didn't ask what had become of them—and within a day Slick had managed to change the
Shooting Star
into the
Hungry Raptor,
bonding glowing letters and registration numbers to the nose and sides of the ship. At the same time, Malcolm Briggs removed all trace of the ship's original registration, and all transmissions would now carry the
Hungry Raptor's
registration and codes.

By the time the ship was ready, Lafferty's ships had arrived at Singapore Station. Cole joined him on one of the dock arms, walking up and down the row of ships, seeing exactly what he was adding to his fleet.

"Nine Level 4 thumpers," he said, impressed, when the inspection was done. "That's better than I anticipated."

"Got better than that," said Lafferty. "Oh?"

"Got a Level 5 laser cannon."

"I didn't see it," said Cole.

"Haven't had a chance to install it yet," said Lafferty. "It was on the
Raptor
until yesterday. It's in one of the cargo holds."

"I want it installed in the new
Hungry Raptor,"
said Cole. "I'll send a crew by to pick it up, and alert my engineer. I'd like to get this show on the road sometime tomorrow."

"Sounds good to me."

"I'll need five of your ships with the Level 4 pulse cannons," said Cole.

"What about the rest of them?"

"I can't hide a thousand ships," said Cole. "This is supposed to be an ambush. The Navy will see all those ships and hightail it back to the Republic. We're going to take a dozen ships and hide them as best we can, but the
real
damage will be done by the mock
Hungry Raptor.
Even with their shields up, the kind of ships the Navy will send on a rescue mission aren't going to be able to stand up to a Level 5 burner."

"I repeat: What about the rest of my ships?" said Lafferty. "We've left our homes and made a commitment. We're not here to watch from the sidelines."

"We should be back in three days, tops. Then we'll start dividing up the Frontier into maybe ten sections, and put a hundred ships in charge of each. Their jobs will be to recruit still more ships to our cause, and to attack any Navy ship that's, well, attackable. In the meantime, let 'em relax on the station. It'll be a while before they get to unwind here again."

Lafferty nodded. "Send your men to my ship, and I'll give them the Level 5 burner."

"Fine," said Cole. "I'm glad you decided to join us. We're going to need all the help we can get."

He left Lafferty by his ship, contacted Jacovic and told him to select a crew and send them over to Lafferty's ship with whatever they'd need to move a Level 5 laser cannon, then headed to Duke's Place.

"I hear we've got company," noted the Platinum Duke as Cole reached his table and sat down.

"Not company," said Cole. "Allies."

"When do you leave?"

"Tomorrow."

"Just as well," said the Duke, his human lips smiling through his platinum mask. "Your redheaded friend's on a winning streak. I'm out almost forty thousand Far London pounds."

"Let her keep playing," said Cole. "She'll lose it back."

"Do you know anyone who can stop her from playing when she feels like it?" responded the Duke.

"Not offhand."

"Well, if we're going to have close to a thousand ships docked here with all this time on their hands, that translates into a few thousand men. Maybe they can help me make up for what the Valkyrie wins."

"If Mr. Odom ever finishes his goddamned survey, maybe we'll put most of them to work shoring up your defenses."

"But in the meantime, you don't mind if I send a few trams down to their ships to ferry them back to the casino?"

"They're grown men. If they want to play at your tables, it's not my job to warn them off."

"Well, I certainly hope there are some grown aliens among them," replied the Duke. "I mean, hell, half my casino consists of alien games like
 jabob
and
stort."

"There'll be aliens," said Cole. "They've got even less reason to love the Republic than the men do."

Cole spent a few more minutes visiting with the Duke and having an Antarean brandy, then made his way back to the new
Hungry Raptor
to see what kind of progress they were making mounting the cannon.

"Installing it is the easy part," explained Mustapha Odom when Cole queried him about it. "Disguising it will take some skill. A ship this size shouldn't have anything bigger than a Level 2 thumper or burner. If the rescue ships spot a Level 5, they're either going to open fire immediately or turn tail and run."

"I'll trust to your expertise," said Cole. "After all, that's why we're paying you so much money."

"You're not paying me at all."

"We would if we had any money."

Cole returned to the
Teddy R
and went directly to the bridge, where Rachel Marcos and Domak were at their stations.

"Rachel, have Vladimir Sokolov or Braxite reported back yet?"

"Yes, sir," she replied.

"And?"

"Mr. Sokolov says that there are no colony planets within eight light-years."

"That ought to be far enough to be safe from reprisals," said Cole. "Still, you never know . . ." He paused for a moment. "What about Braxite?"

"He says that if the rescue force isn't already on patrol in the area, it will almost certainly be dispatched from New Patagonia."

"Okay, so we know what direction they're likely to come from. Send Sokolov and Braxite each a message not to return to base, that we'll be heading out to the Hayakawa system tomorrow and I want them to stick around."

He left the bridge, went to the airlift, and was in his cabin a minute later.

Everything seemed to be going smoothly. His advance scouts knew the area. His new allies had given him a powerful weapon. His computer expert and his Tolobite had thoroughly disguised the
Shooting Star.
All that was left was the one decision he could no longer put off making.

Who would pilot the mock
Hungry Raptor
and man the weapon against an unknown number of oncoming Navy ships?

The obvious choice was Val, but he couldn't be sure she wouldn't jump the gun and start firing too soon. The best pilot he had—except for Wxakgini, who was literally connected to the ship and couldn't be moved—was either Vladimir Sokolov or Dan Moyer, but that made them too valuable to remove from their own ships.

As he felt sleep overwhelming him, he knew that there was really only one person he trusted to handle the job.

"Goddammit, Wilson!" shouted Sharon when he told her his decision as they had breakfast in the mess hall. "I thought we've had this all out before. The Captain never leaves his ship in enemy territory!"

"It's not enemy territory," Cole said calmly. "It's the Inner Frontier."

"Don't give me that bullshit!" she snapped. "It's enemy territory the second the Navy shows up!"

"I was in the service for fifteen years before the mutiny. There's no ship and no weapon that I can't handle. I'm the best qualified for the job."

"Sure," she said sarcastically. "You're a
much
better shot than Val."

"No," he said. "But I'm a much calmer, more rational one."

"What about Bull Pampas? He's been a gunnery officer since before you ever set foot on the
Teddy R,
and you've never seen him lose his temper. Are you a better, calmer shot than him?"

"No, but he's no pilot, and there's every likelihood that the
Hungry Raptor
will have to do some serious evasive maneuvering."

"Why do you keep doing this?" demanded Sharon. "You know better! You're a middle-aged man! You've got people like Val and Bull to take the risks. You have thousands of men and women and aliens who will follow you to the gates of hell, so what more do you have to prove?"

"Knock it off, Sharon," he said irritably. "I made a decision. It stands."

"Well, it's a dumb decision."

"It could be," said Cole. "I'm not perfect."

"You really won't send Val or Bull?"

"I really won't."

"Then let
me
do it," said Sharon.

He stared at her as if she'd lost her mind.

"Don't you understand?" she said. "We can't afford to lose you."

"I don't believe in suicide missions," said Cole. "I'm taking every possible precaution, and I have no intention of dying."

"Neither did Forrice," she said bitterly.

"That's it," he said, genuinely angry now. "The subject is closed."

Cole got to his feet, walked to the airlift, and was on the bridge a moment later.

"Are all twelve ships ready?" he asked Jacovic.

"Armed and ready," replied the Teroni. "Also, I had Mr. Briggs lay in a course to Hayakawa on your ship's navigational computer, so all you have to do is release from the dock and it will do the rest."

"All the wormholes are programmed in?"

"Yes."

"Christine, is Bull down in Gunnery?"

"Yes, sir," she answered.

"Put me through to him." He waited for the connection. "Bull, did you test the laser cannon?"

"Yes, sir," said Bull Pampas. "Accurate to one hundred and forty thousand miles, probably farther."

"How long is it good for?"

"Forty-eight ten-second bursts on its own power, and Mr. Odom has wired it to the ship's nuclear pile for auxiliary power."

"Sounds good," said Cole. "Thanks."

"It's a honey of a weapon," said Pampas enthusiastically. "Is there any chance we can transfer it to the
Teddy R
after this engagement?"

"That's not a bad idea," said Cole. "We're sure as hell never going to get away using the
Hungry Raptor
again."

He signaled Christine to break the connection.

"Okay, Mr. Jacovic," he said. "You're in command of the
Teddy R
and the other eleven ships. You know how to position them once you reach the Hayakawa system. Just remember: No one breaks radio silence until the shooting starts."

"I understand, sir," said the Teroni.

"All right," said Cole. "I'll see you there."

He turned, walked to the airlift, took it down to the shuttle bay, walked out the hatch, and had a tram take him to the
Hungry Raptor.

He entered the ship, walked directly to the Level 5 cannon, made sure he understood the mechanism and felt comfortable with it, and then sat down in the Captain's chair.

"Computer, activate."

"Activated."

"Disengage from the dock."

"Working. . . disengaged."

"You're programmed to take me to a preselected spot in the Hayakawa system," said Cole. "Accelerate, and speak to me only if you encounter difficulties in transit."

The
Hungry Raptor
soon reached light speeds and headed for the first of the two wormholes Wxakgini had selected for it and the twelve other ships. Since there was nothing to do until he arrived at his destination, Cole decided to take a nap and instructed the computer to wake him when they reached the outskirts of the Hayakawa system.

He ordered his chair to turn into a bed, and he was asleep within a minute. It seemed to him that he'd just closed his eyes when the computer awakened him to tell him that they were thirty million miles out from Hayakawa IX, the outermost planet.

Hayakawa IX was a ringed gas giant with eleven moons, and seven of the ships would be hiding in the rings and behind the moons. There was a cloud of comets, similar to Sol's Oort Cloud, a couple of hundred million miles behind him, and he knew that the
Teddy R
and three other ships would be there. He had no idea where the Octopus's ship was hiding, but he had to admit it was well concealed, because his instruments couldn't detect it.

Cole waited an hour, just in case there were any laggards in the second wormhole. Then he turned the nose of his ship toward New Patagonia, though the planet was invisible against the brightness of its type G-7 star. Then he killed the engine, activated the emergency life-support system, made sure the laser cannon was receiving power from the nuclear pile, and send out an SOS on the broadest possible wavelength. He decided not to add a verbal request for help; after his adventure on Chambon V, it was possible, even likely, that the Navy had sent his voiceprint to every ship functioning in or near the Inner Frontier.

Then there was nothing to do but wait. Half an hour passed, then a full hour, then a second hour. Just as he was wondering if he should send another SOS, he received a reply.

"Attention,
Hungry Raptor.
We read you loud and clear. Can you feed us your coordinates, all three dimensions?" Pause.
"Hungry Raptor,
do you read us?"

Cole elected not to speak, because he didn't want the receiving ship to identify his voiceprint, so he had the computer acknowledge receipt of the message.

"Are you disabled,
Hungry Raptor?"

Cole made no response.

"Repeat, please," said the unknown voice on the radio.

Cole remained silent, but left his transmitter on so the Navy could trace the signal to its source—his ship.

"Hungry Raptor,
if you can answer, please do so. If not, we'll have to assume that you may have fallen to a military attack. If so, rest assured that we will be coming to you in force, and that we will arrive with the ability protect you, destroy your enemies, and evacuate your sick or wounded to a hospital on New Patagonia."

Cole had the computer signal that the message was received, and croaked an unintelligible word to prove he was still alive while disguising his voice. He checked the cannon once more, wished he had some coffee with him, and then sat back and waited. It occurred to him, not for the first time, that war was composed of endless waiting separated by brief periods of incredible violence. He was bored now, but he knew that once the shooting started he'd wish he was back in this position, sitting comfortably in his chair and not facing enemy fire.

How did it come to this?
he wondered, staring at empty space on his viewscreen.
I was more than just a good officer; I was a loyal one. I never intended to go up against the Navy. Hell, I
was
the Navy. I feel like the same man I always was, but I've been a mutineer and a pirate, and here I am, preparing to ambush and destroy Navy ships and their crews. And far from feeling guilty about it, I feel justified. A shrink could have a field day with me.

After fifteen minutes had passed he received another transmission.

"Our instruments have found you,
Hungry Raptor.
We see no sign of any enemy ships. We should be able to board you and evacuate you within three minutes."

He looked at the viewscreen. There were no ships.

He checked the cannon's computer to see where the ships were. The computer was dead.

Oh, shit! Of course the viewscreen and the cannon can't find you! The ship's power is off

He didn't dare activate it. The Navy ships would instantly know what he'd done and approach much more cautiously.

He considered his options. There weren't many. With the power off, the viewscreen acted much like a porthole, which meant that he wouldn't see the ships until they were within two or three miles. It also meant that he couldn't do anything to arouse their suspicions, because with no power he had no defensive shields. He had a weapon that could disable or destroy them at one hundred thousand miles, and he couldn't use it until they were a mile away, and since he had to aim the cannon by sight, a quarter mile would be even better.

He was glad Jacovic was in charge of the
Teddy R.
If it had been Val, they'd have been firing already; but the Teroni was an old hand at warfare. He might not know
why
the
Hungry Raptor
was hanging dead in space, but he'd know that Cole had to have a reason, and he'd wait until Cole made the first move.

The only thing that worried him was the Octopus. He still didn't know where the warlord's ship was, and now that the Navy had arrived no one dared contact him to tell him to wait until Cole precipitated the action. Cole finally concluded that the man didn't get to be the commander of three hundred and sixty ships by being stupid, and that he'd know enough to wait, especially when he saw that all the other ships were holding their fire.

"We're almost there,
Hungry Raptor,"
said a new transmission. "We've made visual contact. If you are capable, please acknowledge that you're receiving this signal."

Cole waited silently, staring at the viewscreen.

Suddenly he was able to see the ships. There were six of them, all class-L, one of them an ambulance. He chose the nearest ship and manually aimed the laser cannon at it.

He was pretty sure they didn't have their shields up, but without his instruments he couldn't tell. Two of the ships suddenly veered off out of his field of vision, one to each side. It was an absolutely standard approach, in case of a trap. They would keep their weapons trained on him while the ambulance ship made physical contact, bonded the hatches, and began the evacuation.

Now they were within half a mile. For an instant he thought he could see Hayakawa's sun glint off something, and he thought:
Damn it, Octopus! Just sit still for twenty more seconds!

He wished he could turn the cannon on one of the ships at his side, because they'd be firing sooner than the ones approaching him, but without instruments he couldn't see to either side, and while he could pivot the weapon he'd be firing blind—and he knew he had time for just one shot, two if he was very lucky.

The ships came still closer. At a quarter mile he was ready to fire. Then he decided that since the ruse was working, why not wait until they were at point-blank range? If he could only fire once, he didn't want to miss.

The lead ship closed to within two hundred yards, then one hundred, then fifty—

—and then Cole fired the laser cannon, and instantly activated the ship's systems. He felt a jarring
thud!
just as the shields dropped into place and knew he'd taken a hit. His instruments told him that air was escaping, and he quickly climbed into a space suit.

When he looked into his viewscreen again, he saw two Navy ships—the one he'd hit and one other—hanging dead in space. His instruments found ships approaching from the rings and moons of Hayakawa IX, as well as the comet cloud. They were clearly setting up an englobement maneuver, but none of them were firing, and Cole realized that from that distance they were afraid of hitting him.

He frowned. Then who had killed the other ship, and what was stopping the ships on his sides from trying to pierce his shields?

"Are you just going to sit there?" said a familiar voice on his sub space radio. "Or do you think you can use that damned weapon?"

"Octopus!" said Cole. "Where the hell are you?"

"Right behind you. Who the hell do you thinks been protecting your ass?"

"How come they didn't spot you?"

The Octopus laughed. "I'm not on my ship. I set a couple of Level 3 thumpers up on a stray meteor and gave it a push when you came out of the wormhole. I've been your rear guard ever since."

"A
meteor
?" repeated Cole.

"A very small, very dead one."

Cole lined up the ship that had wounded the
Hungry Raptor
and fired the laser cannon. It literally sliced the Navy ship in half.

"I got the one on the other side," said the Octopus. "Just two to go."

And a minute later, when the
Teddy R
was close enough to lock onto a single ship and fire its pulse cannon, there was nothing left but the ambulance ship.