STAR HOUNDS -- OMNIBUS (51 page)

“Y
ou may call me Arnath,” said one of the group of Frin’ral to Cal Shemzak and Ratham Bey, even as they goggled at the bizarre cityscape. The creature motioned with a meaty hand. “Come to our audience hall and we will speak on this matter before us.”

“Anything you say,” said Cal. “Come on, Ratham, I’m dying to find out more about this place.”

Ratham nodded silently, following Cal.

They were led through a winding road flanked by the oddly tilted buildings, minarets, towers, and turrets. There was the delicious scent of cooking vegetables in the air; the smell of fresh flowers as they passed pristine park centered by an ornate fountain, each stream of water shaded a different dazzling color. In the breeze the faint sound of distant wind chimes fluttered like gentle pleasant memories of lost melodies.

Occasionally they passed natives dressed in wildly different styles of clothing, but these natives in turn hardly took note of the visitors, as though it were an everyday event to see aliens upon the city streets.

“How does all this affect what you can do?” Ratham Bey asked.

“You mean, what we can do?” Cal replied.

“Yes, I mean the business of the mind.” He waved around him. “You think this is all the product of their … wills?”

“For the most part I would think so. Let’s see. I’m little hungry. I’d like a bratwurst.”

He held out his hand, and in his palm there was a soft bread roll with a sausage enclosed.

Complete with sweet Bavarian mustard.

“There, you see? However, I suppose that if I wanted to make that square building round, I wouldn’t succeed. In other words, Ratham, what we have here is the result, no doubt, of consensus reality. The Frin’ral have created a town out of their imaginations.”

“But each sees it in a slightly different way, which is why there is the skewed look to it.”

“Exactly.”

“So we had just better restrict ourselves to bratwurst and beer, to keep our noses clean.”

“A wonderful idea.”

“Why don’t they just … beam us into this place?”

“Maybe this is the unguided tour of the town.”

“Sort of showing off?”

“Who knows. Hard to say how these guys think.”

They passed another park, where exotic birds roosted in feathery trees and unseen fauna made strange music in the underbrush.

Finally they were shown inside a large building carved from wood, with architectural aesthetics quite alien indeed. It seemed a collection of wooden petrified bubbles.

They were shown to a room and provided chairs. Two other Frin’ral sat in the room. One of them addressed the humans simply and directly: “Who are you and what are you doing here?”

Cal spoke up immediately: “Gee, you know, I could ask you the same thing.”

“We are the Frin’ral. We have come here to … escape certain realities of the larger dimension. We were persecuted and pursued by a terrible race.”

“I know how you feel,” said Cal. “Well, this here is Lieutenant Ratham Bey. I’m Calspar Shemzak. We’re human beings, and we certainly don’t mean to pursue or persecute you. As for why we’re here … ”

Cal summed up the story as best he could, including the Jaxdron and the
Starbow
and how Ratham had fallen through the warp.

“And so you see, neither of us had any choice in the matter whatsoever.”

“This is most disconcerting news—the Jaxdron attempting to pierce Omega Space … very upsetting.”

“You know them, then?”

“Oh, yes we certainly do! They are the very race that drove us to seek refuge here,” the apparent leader intoned.

“But why?”

“We would not play their games … or rather, we started playing their strange games, and then, when we realized what it was doing to our culture, we ceased. They are but spoiled children, the Jaxdron. They sought to wipe us out in vengeance for slighting them! And now they pursue us to the ends of time!”

“Don’t worry,” said Cal. “They needed me to get through, and I’m here, and I’ve closed the portal I used.”

“This is good.” The leader turned to Ratham Bey. “And we had vibrations to indicate that the portal you entered was destroyed, for it was booby trapped for the Jaxdron.”

“I just hope that the others got out okay,” said Ratham Bey, shivering. “But I should mention that one of your number, a fellow who calls himself Shontill, has been traveling with us, trying to get into Omega Spate, trying to rejoin you!”

“Shontill!” They turned and looked at one another.

“You know him?”

“Our forefathers knew him. He was the stuff of history. But how is he yet alive?”

“Suspended animation. We found him in the wreckage of a spaceship, still ticking.”

“He would be welcome back amongst us … yes, he would,” the leader intoned. “But the question remains now … what of the Jaxdron? You are sure you defeated them?”

“I didn’t defeat them. I defeated their purpose.”

“The Jaxdron seek vengeance upon us, yes, but they have other reasons to encroach upon Omega Space. They would wreak havoc here with their games. Ah, it would be terrible!”

“Yes,” said Cal. “I understand what you mean. But the question remains, then … what can we do about them?”

“We have long been aware of this possibility,” the Frin’ral said. “We are not unprepared. We are grateful for the warning. Now, we must ask you to cooperate.”

“Cooperate in what?” asked Cal.

“We must work to first destroy this bunch of Jaxdron who used you. Then we must reseal the portal you opened.”

Cal nodded. “Count me in.”

T
he day after the hairbreadth escape of the
Starbow
from the armada of Federation ships, Laura Shemzak lay in her cabin, reading.

She was still stunned at the turn of events. Despite her relief at no longer being addicted to Zernin, despite her near ecstasy at no longer having a malevolent voice inside her telling her what to do, a brief physical examination had shown the device to be destroyed. Presumably it was a parting gift from the Aspach. She still somehow felt weak and powerless, a pawn in some galactic game yet unfolding around her.

Whenever she had felt this way during her service with the Federation, she would either visit with Cal or take a ride in a blip-ship. Now, though, Cal was far away; her blip-ship was wrecked, and besides, she couldn’t fly it anyway.

She retreated to quietly lick her wounds. The book she stretched out with was a collection of poetry from ages long past. Tars Northern had let her borrow it from his collection.

“I’m sure You’re used to spools and screens, but try reading something this way,” he told her when she had inquired about reading matter. “It has its own peculiar pleasures … and the pictures are nice.”

“Tars … didn’t know you liked poetry!”

“Yes. There’s a good deal of human warmth and perception to the stuff that makes living in a tin can, slicing through nothingness, a little more bearable.” He’d been wearing his morning robe, looking older and very tired when she’d knocked at his cabin door, looking a little more vulnerable than usual.

“Thank you,” she’d said. “Tars,” she ventured.

“Once all of this is through, if we’re both alive … could we talk about us?”

“Us?” His eyes seemed to sparkle mischievously, awake at last.

“I’ve been through a great deal, and perhaps have to go through a great deal more before the end of it all. And, well, having Cal back is just not going to be enough. My feelings for him are of a quite different sort than my feelings for you. I’m starting to feel a need ….” Her words became nervous and hurried. “I don’t want to be alone anymore. I mean, can you try to feel something for me? You’ve tried with others.”

He frowned when he saw how serious she was. He motioned her to him, and put his arms around her—warmly, but paternally.

“Maybe I am starting to feel more than just healthy lust for you, Laura. But I’m not sure—”

“I just want to be with you more, Tars, know you better. I want to help you. It would get me out of myself, really it would!”

“Yes. That’s an easy enough promise. We can spend more time together.” He smiled easily. “I presume this means that you intend to stay on.”

“Of course.”

“And what about your brother?”

“He won’t want to go back to the Federation. He can join the crew, can’t he?”

“Are you so sure he’ll want to, Laura? We’re a pretty strange bunch.”

“Oh he’ll love it!”

“Just what we need—another eccentric.”

“There’s something else I need to talk to you about, Tars.”

“By all means.”

“When I was with Zarpfrin, down on Earth, he tried to break me with a bit of information.”

“Sounds like the bastard. What was it, Laura?”

“That Cal is not really my brother. Cal just conned me because he thought having a sister was a terrific idea. He fixed the computer records ….”

Northern was quiet for a moment, considering.

“Interesting fellow!”

“Well, it didn’t bother me the way Zarpfrin wanted it to bother me. But now as I think about it … ”

“It hurts?”

“In a way. He lied to me! He tried to control me, just like everyone else.”

“Maybe he needed someone.”

“Well, after he gets back safe and sound on board this ship and I give him a big hug and a wet kiss, I’m gonna slam him good!”

Northern laughed as he went to get a cup of morning coffee. “I just bet you will. Sounds to me as if you’re going to survive that particular trauma. I’ll tell you what, I’ll get out a heavy blaster when he’s here, and we’ll hitch you two proper—a shotgun adoption!”

“You mean you’d make it official?”

“I’m the captain. I can do anything!”

“I’m not sure I want the little rat to be my brother anymore.”

“You pout so very prettily, Laura.” He offered her a cup of coffee. She refused.

“I’m off stimulants, remember?”

“Oh, yes.” He sipped, and considered. “Is that why you’re talking about getting closer to me? You want a new brother?”

“What?”

“A father?”

“Tars … I want
you
!”

“Relationships tend to be complex, and with complex emotional underpinnings.”

“Hell with underpinnings!” she said, eyes flashing, anger boiling up. “I don’t want a CompComp—I want a man!”

Northern chuckled. “Now there’s the Laura I love! Yes, I don’t think it would be too difficult to spend more time with you, should we manage to maintain our current molecular structure after this fracas!”

“Thanks,” she said sarcastically. “Now I have something to live for!”

“You’re the one who asked.”

“You better watch out, Northern,” she said, hefting the book. “This looks better to throw than a spool!”

“Oh, how do I love thee,” the captain countered. “Let me count the ways!”

And so now Laura lay on her bed, sipping tea and letting the verses lazily wind through her mind like refreshing breezes.

There was a knock on the door that interrupted Keats’s “Ode to a Grecian Urn.”

“Hullo? Come in.”

The door whisked open. Dansen Jitt nervously peeked in.

“Yes, Dans. What’s up?”

“Captain’s having a crew meeting in about two hours. He told me to check on you and tell you that.”

“Thanks. Just reading some poetry. Come in, come in!”

The small man wandered in and was directed to sit in a chair beside the bed.

“Want some tea? Might calm you down.”

Jitt accepted the tea.

“Just the usual jitters?”

“I need to talk to someone,” Jitt said. “Everyone else seems so preoccupied. I hate to ask, and I know that dumping all this on you is crummy after all you’ve been through—”

“Fire away. Things can’t get too much worse than they’ve been.”

Dansen Jitt looked morose as he began to sip the tea. Naturally, he burned his tongue.

“After the fracas on Baleful—you remember?” he said, pausing to blow on his tea.

“How can I forget?”

“When I got that psychic message that told us whereto pursue the Jaxdron?”

“Right,” Laura said, encouraging him.

“It was more than that, Laura. I had a vision. The Jaxdron gave me a vision of what would happen at Snar’shill. I—” He sipped at his tea more successfully this time. “I saw a huge battle. Thousands of ships locked in struggle. And I saw you, smiling ….”

“Not unusual.”

“And I saw the captain, Captain Northern, dead.”

Laura mulled over that. “Clearly it’s a trap, but knowing that, we might be able to use it to our advantage.”

“But what about my vision?”

“You really believe the Jaxdron—”

“It was quite impressive.”

“Must have been.”

“They said something about joining their fun and games. I’m sorry to unload more on you, Laura, but I just had to talk.”

Laura nodded. “I think it’s a load of manure, myself. Games, you say, Jitt? This whole thing has been games within games from the beginning.”

“But death is no game.”

“Not if you’re dead. But if you’re living … so tell me, Dans. What are you suggesting? That we not go after them? That we run off with our tails between our legs?”

“I don’t have a tail!”

“Figure of speech.”

“I just don’t like the idea of getting killed, that’s all. Is that unnatural? Am I so inhuman as to be preoccupied with that?”

“No. I’m sorry.”

Jitt shook his head. “No one understands. There are just things … things I see … things I dream. And they unnerve me! They’d unnerve anyone. I suppose you think I’m a coward, dying a thousand deaths instead of a hero’s one. But it’s not like that. No one believes me.”

“You’ve had more of these precognitions lately?”

Jitt nodded soberly.

“Right. So tell me about them!”

“A dream. I had a dream.” Jitt looked up at her, meeting her eyes. “A dream about your brother.”

“Tell me.”

“I dreamed that somehow he had found the Frin’ral. Found Shontill’s people. In a land as strange as strange gets.”

“Omega Space!”

“It could be. And Laura … Ratham Bey was there too!”

“Lieutenant Ratham Bey? The guy that got sucked into that vortex on the abandoned Frin’ral ship?”

“That’s him.”

“What were they doing?”

“I’m not sure … just a glimpse, an impression of a bizzare city … but they seemed to be together peacefully.”

“Amazing. Dans, how often are these psychic visions of yours true?”

“That’s the problem, Laura. There’s something in them that’s always true. But I just can’t get my interpretation right all the time.”

Laura nodded. “That’s why the captain razzes you so much. He’s a perfectionist.”

Jitt sighed. “Well, you really can’t blame him. Like once, I envisioned this huge monster being inside a spaceship we were pirating. The boarding party was extra specially careful about that sector of this ship. The thing turned out to be Bickle, who Silver Zenyo took as a pet. The captain will never agree that my vision was correct, but that thing is an awful monster!”

Laura laughed. “Yes, I see. And your vision here doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. But it does let us know that Cal’s alive and possibly in contact with the Frin’ral.”

“Northern will just disregard it.”

“Well, I won’t. I take it as a very encouraging vision indeed, Dansen. We will have to mention it at the meeting.”

“I really would rather you didn’t. I don’t know what good it would do the others. I just figured it might be reassuring to you.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you, my friend. And about that other, horrific vision of yours—just think maybe you’ve got that one wrong as well.”

“I hope I don’t have the part about you smiling wrong.”

Laura nodded. “The problem is, I’ve always said that I’m going to die with a smile on my face.”

E
veryone looked a little weary and apprehensive at the open crew meeting. Even Captain Tars Northern seemed preoccupied—looking a bit more ruffled than usual, and notably without his usual drink.

As the general din of conversation quieted down in preparation for the meeting, Laura wondered whether the reason for Tars’s preoccupation was Dr. Michael Mish.

Or rather, the change in Dr. Mish.

From the time the robot extension of the
Starbow
entered the room, the change in personality was discernible. Rather than the frowsy, absentminded doctor Laura had first met, he was neatly dressed and totally self-possessed. There seemed about him an aura of completeness, power, and awareness of things beyond normal ken. When his eyes alit upon anything, his face displayed something akin to omnipotent clairvoyance.

This troubled Laura. She had liked Dr. Mish’s personality. He still had certain fatherly qualities about him, but they were not as pleasing as before. Stern, Old Testament stuff here, as Cal might have said.

The first person who took an immediate interest in Mish’s new presence was Chivon Lasster, who stepped up and engaged in immediate quiet conversation with him, an intense expression on her face. She seemed to want to hug him, but obviously restraining herself, she did not. Mish ended the dialogue by squeezing her arm, then taking his place beside the captain.

Laura immediately noticed that there was no monitor in Mish’s hands. He hardly seemed interested in Northern’s condition. The pair clearly did not have the rapport they had once shared, and Northern seemed a bit lost because of it.

Plainly, joining with his fellow Aspach had made Mish into a different kind of creature. Laura wondered if this was good or bad as Captain Tars Northern called the meeting to order.

“This is just a general information meeting, and an opportunity for all involved to present observations and suggestions,” he began.

“As you might have gathered, we are now finally headed toward Snar’shill. I’m sure you are all aware this has been our destination for some time. We have taken a few detours since we first learned of that destination, but all those detours have been eminently to our advantage.”

“Not much good for our nerves, though!” called out a young ensign.

Northern smiled ruefully. “Did anyone ever promise anyone here that joining up with the
Starbow
crew was going to prove to be a nerve tonic?”

“Plenty of rum, though!” cried the ensign.

“Yes. Well, we’re pirates, aren’t we, mateys? Now, then … we are all going to have to take part in this upcoming assault on what will presumably be a Jaxdron base. As we no longer have our blip-ship in service, we are going to have to rely on our pinnaces, rigged with as much firepower as possible, to be our fighters once again. And we shall have to use the
Starbow
itself.”

“The
Starbow
? How is that going to help?” asked Gemma Naquist. “I mean sure, yeah, if we deal with the odd Jaxdron ship in Snar’shill’s system, it will be quite effective, but for assaulting an alien base?”