STAR HOUNDS -- OMNIBUS (28 page)

T
ars Northern never tired of planetfall. Now, as he piloted the shuttle down toward the brown and gray continent that held Shiva, capital city to Kendrick’s Vision, two crewmembers by his side in formchairs, he relished the roller-coaster sensations, the swaths of color and exhilaration. He wondered if this was how Laura Shemzak must feel in her blip-ship, a sense of abandon combined with a simultaneous joy of riding something almost alive.

The fact that he was going to see a friend made it all the more fun.

“Whoo-eee!” he said, dipping the boat’s nose at a steeper angle than necessary. The force shield glowed red from friction with the thin atmosphere. An extra half G slammed the riders back into their sensor cushions.

Silver Zenyo cursed in a most indelicate manner for such a delicate-looking lady. “Northern, what are you trying to do, make this shuttle into a kitchen appliance?”

“Can’t I have a little fun, Silver? It’s not very often that I get out, you know.” His eyes flicked her way a moment. “Sorry if I mussed your hair. I know you want it nice for Freeman.”

That was the principal reason Silver had asked to come along. She and Freeman Jonst had enjoyed a romantic alliance the last time the
Starbow
had stopped at Kendrick’s Vision. Not that she would have time to indulge herself in anything heavy this visit; their time was too short. But Northern knew that she did want to see him. She had considered staying on Kendrick’s Vision with him last year; Northern was not sure why she hadn’t.

Silver Zenyo was an odd one. The ship’s mystery woman, Northern liked to call her. That she was beautiful no one could deny. She had a blend of smooth and sharp in her features that struck one first with their form, then barbed the gazer upon her mascara-dark eyes, like depthless jewels a-twinkle from their own peculiar lights within. With the captain’s permission, she had designed a variation of the neutral gray epauletted basic uniform of the
Starbow
crew. Hers had red trim and tucks and creases emphasizing her slender, perfectly proportioned body. Her hair, a beautiful wealth of blond curls, was more an explicit part of her statement than a mere frame or ornament to her features.

One sexy lady, Northern thought, but he’d steered well clear. There was a danger in her eyes besides the mystery. True, this was part of her intriguing erotic flavor. Northern liked his danger as much as the next adventurer. No, the danger was more a kind of controlled frenzy inside her, a hunger for something that was not innocent, which seemed all consuming.

Still, despite his misgivings, Northern found the woman to be an exceptionally competent, sometimes even brilliant, crewmember. It was Silver Zenyo who masterminded the methodology of vessel looting. She programmed the robots to be quick and effective—and often went along, seemingly for the joy of it.

Silver Zenyo claimed she was from Beta Canopus, where the Federation had actually stepped in and squashed the independence of the Mendric colony because of the strategic qualities of the planet, and because it was within easy swatting distance. Her story was that she had stolen a ship and become an independent merchant and occasional pirate among the trade of the Free Worlds, limiting her piracy to Federation vessels. She had encountered Northern when her ship, the
Princeling
, and the
Starbow
were both preying upon the same Federation trader, a particularly ripe plum laden with exotic spices. The Princeling had run afoul of the trader’s modern defense array. Northern had rescued her, wondering how the hell a solitary woman in a Class Five Scout could wage an effective pirate career. A lengthy interview answered that question: she was a hardware expert who knew the ins and outs of every Federation vessel, be it trader or fighter, like a top medical doctor knew the human body. She knew how to open one up quick and suck out the juice. In other words, she was just so damned good that Northern had to change his notion about setting her down on the nearest Free World to make her own way. She was too blasted valuable to let her slip through his fingers.

So, despite the vagueness of her background story, he asked her to become a crewmember of the
Starbow
. Her apprenticeship was spectacularly successful, and so she was asked to stay on. Which she did because, she said, she could fight the Federation this way and lay up a nice store of wealth for her declining years. Buy some planet, she said; have enough loot to buy her own beautiful paradise. She was a good officer, loyal, tart, cool, and she did her job well.

But there was something more to her—something she wasn’t coughing up—and while it always intrigued Northern, no one had found out if she indeed was hiding anything. Silver, after all, seemed a good and faithful member of their motley family. Her mystery was merely her particular idiosyncrasy, perhaps. Everyone had their private secrets. God knows I’ve got enough of them, Northern thought.

He turned his attention fully upon the exhilarating but tricky piloting of their shuttle down to the surface of Kendrick’s Vision. Maybe good old Freeman would know more.

The flowery scent of Silver’s perfume teased him all the way down.

When they neared Shiva, Northern turned to Arbst Nichol, who manned the navigational sensors and was a fantastic lander of shuttles in various sorts of non-spaceport terrain.

“What have we got on those coordinates I threw you?”

The curly haired fellow turned his sunken eyes toward Northern. “Pretty good memory, Captain. It seems to be some kind of mansion all right, on the outskirts of the town. Got a nice field alongside it too. I’m going to be able to set this baby down pretty as you please!”

“Don’t thank me, Arbst.” Northern grinned over at their female companion. “Silver is the one that has all the details of Shiva and its president burned into her brain.”

Silver Zenyo gave a lemon-twist of a smile but said nothing, keeping her attention upon her sensor board.

With the ease Arbst Nichol predicted, they set down using retros and antigravs in a grassy field beyond a ridge which hid the president’s mansion from their view.

“Why didn’t we open a channel before we arrived, Captain?” Nichol wanted to know.

“It’s a little game Freeman and I play from time to time,” Northern returned mischievously. “Little surprises of various sorts. He’s not going to be expecting me and the way was clear. Why not just drop in unannounced!”

Nichol’s chubby features bent into a frown. “I don’t know, Captain,” he said doubtfully.

“Silver, anything amiss on the sensors?”

“Nothing I can ascertain, sir,” Silver answered in a non-committal voice. She seemed preoccupied—no doubt with anticipation, Northern surmised.

“Well then,” he said cheerily. “You will do us the favor of staying on board while we go and have a chat with old Freeman, won’t you?”

“I presume that’s an order,” said Nichol. “Forgive me, sir, but sometimes I can’t tell.”

“Yes indeed. An order. Stand by, though, we’re going to be needing your help in stowing some stuff on board.”

“Aye aye, sir,” Nichol said, swiveling around and pecking out instructions on a keyboard. “Disembarkation procedures under way. Have a nice visit, sir.”

The airlock began to open. The ladder descended onto the grassy sward beneath. Northern, followed by Zenyo, stepped out into the clean, fresh air of Kendrick’s Vision. Northern was immediately reminded why he liked this place so much. Something about the atmosphere—faintly higher oxygen content, perhaps—something special that plants added, maybe. Whatever it was, it was relaxing and it was good. The stars twinkled overhead through a stirring or clouds. Insects made chittering noises in the nearby wood.

“Ah, the Vision,” said Northern as the pair began to climb the rise. “Pardon my continual snoopiness, Silver, but I still can’t figure out why you wanted to leave this place. It’s as good as any to settle down in, isn’t it, and you seemed to take quite a shine to Jonst … more than I’ve ever seen you take to anyone, come to think of it … and you do tend to do well with men, you can’t deny that. If I were you—”

“You forget so easily, Captain,” Silver said, stopping, placing her hands on her hips, silhouetted by one of the small, greenish moons just rising from the horizon. “Sometimes I wonder if it’s simply the way your mind works, or if your brain’s eroding from your penchant for drink. Not one of us on that beautiful ship out there is normal in the slightest. We’re all haunted, all driven. That’s the common denominator. Now I realize that you’ve gotten this bee in your bonnet about commitment and family and somesuch rot, and maybe I agree—it’s nice to have people around. Sure. But I’m a loner, Northern, just like you. My head is full of stuff beyond expression—haunted, just like that incredible, creaky old thing inside your head is. I’ve got things driving me that maybe even I don’t understand. But what I do know is that I’m not about to settle down into a complacent, quiet life no matter how pleasant it might be, when I know that there are struggles occurring in this universe that I might take part in. I almost resent the fact that you think I’m different from you in that way. That’s why we’re together, Northern. That’s why we’re a crew. We’re all dedicated to something, and that’s our lives.”

Northern grinned. “Just checking. I just thought that you dressed and looked your best to catch yourself a man sometime, and I can’t think of more of a man than Freeman Jonst.”

It was Silver’s turn to smile, and in the light from the two moons and the running lights of their shuttle, Tars Northern could see that it was a gentle smile. “Tars, what else can I say except that a girl’s just got to do what she can.”

They topped the rise and found themselves looking down into a valley holding a sprawling Spanish-style villa. Lights shone in curtain windows. There were no guards. No reason for guards, here on Kendrick’s Vision, a new colony where people were too busy working to build their dream to become criminals or to overthrow the government by assassinating the president.

“Too early for the old fellow to be in bed,” said Northern. “He might be in his office. Do you remember where that is, dear heart?”

“Sure. Around this way. Your ploy of allowing Nichol to land seems to have worked. We came down so quietly with that sensor cloak, nobody seems to know that we’re here.”

“I owe that pal of yours a surprise and I can’t think of a better way of giving him one than to walk in unannounced with you.” He could feel his face getting a devilish expression on it. “I don’t suppose you might consider going in bare-assed, would you?”

“You really have too nice a face to take such risks of getting it marked up, Northern. Come on, the entrance is over here.”

They crept up along a hedgerow to a window and peered in.

A man with graying, bushy hair was poring intently over something at his desk. He was dressed in plain khaki coveralls and wore spectacles. Freeman Jonst, working.

“Through the window?” Northern suggested in a whisper.

“That’s a bit much, Captain, don’t you think? I mean, Freeman generally carries a gun—that’s part of his philosophy, you remember, and if he sees a couple of legs come cruising through his side window, he’s likely to shoot first and ask for names later.”

“Right you are. I knew there were reasons beyond your fabulous beauty that I keep you on my ship. Now as I recall, there’s a door hereabouts.”

“This all seems so … quaint and simple.”

“Some planet cultures are like that,” said Northern.

There was, and they found it without much problem, walking into a tastefully decorated hallway done in a curious mixture of old Earth styles. Freeman Jonst had always been fascinated with the more leisurely cultures of old Earth, particularly the Latin, and had utilized much of his architectural penchants on his vital and growing colony.

Tars Northern had met the man not long after he had stolen the
Starbow
. He knew of the reputation of Kendrick’s Vision as a hold-out of individualism amongst even the Free Worlds. He thought the planet worthwhile to investigate as part of his efforts to rally independent planets together in a loose consortium designed to repulse any Federation efforts to regain territory.

They had met, and although Jonst had not been interested in the consortium idea, he had taken to the unpredictable Northern. They’d become fast friends and drinking buddies. Northern had been given the planetary equivalent of the key to the city and often traveled back to Kendrick’s Vision to trade supplies, sell stolen loot, pick up booze, or simply pay a visit, always knowing he was welcome, always knowing that he and his crew were safe there. The Vision was so far away from Federation space that its area had virtually no Federation traffic; thus the
Starbow
could feel at ease.

So Kendrick’s Vision was like a planetary vacation spot for Tars Northern. If he had anything approaching a planetary home now, this was it. “
Mi casa es su casa,
” Freeman Jonst had said, and if any man could be taken at his word, it was his friend Freeman.

Voices muttered in the distance. There was the scent of fresh wood and wax in the air, a good smell. Sometimes when he came down to places like this, Northern realized that even as committed as he was to the
Starbow
and its crew, and as much as he belonged to the starways, he missed the feel, touch, and taste, the security, of living on a planet’s surface.