Stardogs (17 page)

“But the League made you! The League made the Empire!” Spittle sprayed.

“To the Empire’s discredit. We aren’t going to get out of this mess. So I can
finally
tell you exactly what I think of you. You League scum ought be destroyed, and destroyed utterly. You’ll be a befoulment in hell.”

The debt-slave clapped. The snarling Leaguesman turned on her, looking for a softer target, perhaps. He didn’t find it. She stepped closer, brandishing the broken bottleneck full of razor-shards of glass under his nose, smiling with a trace of insanity.

And the red-shifted stars…changed. Blurred toward normality. “We’re out!” screamed someone, their voice shrill with relief. But all Shari felt right then was regret.

The eyes of Agent-Supervisor Leaguesman Kadar Shilo almost glowed with savage pleasure. He looked out of the cockpit dome eagerly. The League lighter ought to be ready and waiting. He’d just go and get the transmitter in his cabin going. They’d be aboard in fifteen minutes. It would be regrettable that those wicked Yakuza had killed the Princess and her whole entourage. It was going to be even more regrettable when they revealed that the Emperor’s own espionage head was implicated. He smiled savagely and scanned the darkness ahead.

Even his blurred vision couldn’t hide the emptiness of space. No minership! So that side had come adrift too. Sam Teovan wasn’t surprised.

The Viscount was surreptitiously watching the forward viewpanels too. He had to dispose of the League fool and kill her, and take control. But things had gone badly awry with the Yakuza side of Selim Puk’s plan. The bomb threat should have been sufficient to disarm the Leaguesman. They hadn’t even got as far as that, before their stupid plot had come adrift. Also… was the Stardog really dying? The Emperor wasn’t going to thank him for a dead lump of silicates.

Johannes Wienan cradled his splinted arm and looked out of the window panels. Shook his head. No!!!!

He was one of the few modern Wienan’s with any real grasp of Astronomy. Most preferred to leave that to the lower lifeforms, the riders. Besides, who needed it? The dog did all the real navigating, and it was never to any place new, after all. But the young Wienan had been fascinated by the deep-space pics of different star-systems. And before they’d left Imperium he’d had a refresher look at the systems they’d be visiting.

He shook his head again. His voice was strained and high-pitched when it finally came out. “This isn’t the New Sahara system!”

The riders were trained to expertise at system visualisation. The girl rider, Una, had looked up when he had spoken. He signed hastily to her. She studied the growing planet with care. Eventually she announced, “It is not an Empire world.” There was a stolid toneless quality to her voice which made it utterly believable. It distracted the Leaguesman’s attention from the fact that she’d reacted to his speaking.

Deo had walked over to the instrument panel set in the arm of the League-watcher’s throne. “And we are not slowing down either.”

It is said that it is better to light a single candle than to curse the darkness. But it is still better to tell the electrician that if the lights aren’t on in ten minutes you’re going to shove that damned lighted candle up his butt.

From the collected sayings of Saint Sugahata the Reviled.

Leaguesman Kadar was the first to recover. “Impossible!” He leaned threateningly toward the rider. “You’re lying. And if you’ve brought us out at the wrong world I will teach you the meaning of punishment!”

But she had deactivated hearing-aid, and was locked in her silent world again. She just stared out of the viewpanels. The world they were heading towards was still distant. They had many hours to fall towards its amber and white surface.

Johannes Wienan was sore, and he was of the kind whom pain makes irritable. “Leaguesman Kadar. You have no authority here. You are merely a passenger on this ship. Conduct yourself accordingly.”

“No authority! You… spoiled young pipsqueak! I’m an agent-supervisor in the security section. I am here on Jan-Pieter the nineteenth’s personal orders.”

Johannes felt the cold sinking to his gut. As usual his devious uncle had been playing both ends against the middle. He probably had strings attached to middle too, to make sure it did just as he wanted. But he wasn’t going to back down. “My authority,
over this ship
, is vested in me by the Wienan Leaguemaster herself. Challenge my authority and I’ll have you put off the ship. Right here. Can you breathe space
, Agent-supervisor
?”

“Enough.” Shari had put on her imperial dignity again. “You are arguing about nothing. We are in a system beyond the Empire. We have no means of return. Unless the Stardog recovers we’ll be aboard the lifecraft in a few hours. Stop your bickering. Leaguesman Wienan, I suggest that someone accompanies you in search of medical supplies. Leaguesman Shilo. You will go to your stateroom and remain there until you are fetched. Lieutenant Albeer will accompany you and lock you in.”

“Lock me in! You dare…”

“Shut up, Leaguesman.” The Viscount snapped. So this was his opposite number. Incompetent fool, letting his temper betray him like that. “Her Imperial Highness has given you your orders. Move.”

Kadar showed his yellow teeth. “We’re beyond the Empire… she says. Outside her authority.”

Martin Brettan administered a careless backhander across the Leaguesman’s mouth. “You’re not beyond my hand. Next bit of cheek from you and I’ll go through with the other Leaguesman’s suggestion, and toss you out of an airlock. Now, move. I’ll take him down, your Highness.”

“Thank you Viscount. We will meet here again I think in… twenty minutes.”

The handsome and muscular Captain hustled him away down the passage to the main body of the barge.

“Well, Leaguesman Wienan, what are you waiting for? I want the passage clear to take the Countess to her room.”

He bit his lip. Looked down the passage. “Your Highness. Be careful with that man. He is one of my uncle’s assassins. I can only think he was put on board to kill you.”

She raised an eyebrow. “And you weren’t party to this, Leaguesman?”

He flushed. “No. I… I was supposed to make the rider refuse to continue crossing trade sectors. I knew nothing of this.”

“Honesty from the League of lies! You knew nothing of the plan to kill the rider?” It was Deo’s seldom heard voice. Accusing. Oddly deep.

Wienan looked confused. The man was a menial — yet speaking thus? “No. I’d never be so stupid as to try something in flight…”

“Then why was the new-rider not tranquillised?” The grey-clad man’s eyes bored into his.

“But…but I saw Kadar give her the injection myself, before we came up here… We stopped on the way. And Kadar’s face when she was pushed in. He… can’t have known.”

Deo nodded. “Truth, Princess. I saw the Leaguesman’s face too. There is another conspirator.”

She sighed. “Surprise me, Deo. Well, get along with you, Leaguesman.”

He bobbed his head. Turned to his servant, “Come on, Lila.”

“Go to hell.” To emphasise her point she cocked the pistol and raised it. “Before the bank took our farm, I used to shoot whistler-ducks with one of these. Keep away from me.”

Johannes Wienan’s jaw fell open. “But…”

“Just go, Leaguesman,” said Shari, tiredly.

He went.

The debt-slave girl bowed low to the Princess “Your Highness, I am an agent of the Imperial Intelligence Service. I am at your service. Don’t trust those Leaguesmen, Princess.”

Shari raised her eyes to heaven. How could she point out to this child that Imperial Intelligence was also probably plotting to kill her? “I’m sure Lieutenant Albeer will appreciate your help. I believe,” she said, with an enquiring tilt of her head, “that he is also in the IIS?” He nodded, reddening slightly. He seemed about to say something, but she turned her attention instead to her wounded companion. “Caro, do you think you can walk, or shall I find a nice man to carry you?”

The countess smiled. It was almost her old, easy smile. “I’m fine. The nice man sounds, well… nice, but I’ll manage without one, I suppose.”

Deo and the bodyguard helped her to her feet. The Princess offered her arm. Shari looked at the ruins of the cockpit. “Deo?” she began.

“I shall remain here, Your Highness. I will see to it.”

She knew that by the time she came back, there would be no bodies, and probably no blood. Deo was terrifyingly efficient.

When she, the countess, Albeer and her newest bodyguard had left, followed by Otto, who would comfort someone while his mistress was there, but would not allow her to leave without him, the ubiquitous servingman turned to the rider and to Lady Tanzo. He bowed respectfully. “Lady. I shall have to take the dead rider’s body. Would you not comfort the living instead?”

For a minute the stocky little woman just stared myopically at him. Then she spoke, her voice unaccustomedly sad. “You know, he died trying to tell me where we were going to. He thought it would make me happy. I didn’t understand at first. But I do now.” She looked at the heavy wavy-bladed knife he was retrieving from the neck of the fallen Camo. “Does the Princess Shari know that she has one of the Kali Ghurka as her servant?”