Cole and Forrice went down to the mess hall and sat at Cole’s regular table.
“Well,” said Cole. “What do you think?”
“I think it’s a far cry from fighting the Teroni Federation,” replied the Molarian.
“You’re just being moody because you’re oversexed,” said Cole. “What do you think of our chances of pulling David’s friend out of durance vile?”
“We’ll get him,” said the Molarian. “After all, the Frontier desperately needs another fence.”
“What’s bothering you, Four Eyes?”
“Seriously?”
“Am I smiling?”
“We’re too good for this, Wilson,” said Forrice. “I know, I know, it’s better than piracy, but we shouldn’t be cleaning up the Frontier one villain at a time. And this time we’re not even doing that; we’re rescuing a fence so he can sell more illegal weapons to more outlaws that we’ll eventually have to face. Doesn’t that strike you as just a bit idiotic?”
“No more so than life,” answered Cole. “The Navy demoted you because you refused an order to kill a helpless prisoner you knew to be a double agent. They incarcerated me for saving five million lives. Was life really more meaningful in the Republic than it is out here?”
“Not when you put it that way,” admitted the Molarian. “But when we were in the Navy, we at least had the
illusion
that we were doing something meaningful, something that made a difference.”
“Take a minute and consider our situation,” said Cole. “The Teroni Federation tried to kill us. The Republic tried to humiliate and jail us. Out here Captain Windsail’s pirate crew tried to kill us. The Hammerhead Shark tried to annihilate us. Genghis Khan would have killed us if he’d been able to. As far as I’m concerned, our primary responsibility is to the crew that gave up their homes and their families and their careers for us.”
“I tell myself that every day,” said Forrice. “And sometimes I even believe it. But never for long. You and I were the best the Navy had, Wilson. What are we doing out here fighting petty little warlords for money?”
“Do you really want to be part of a Navy that treats the best they have the way it treated you and me?” asked Cole.
“No,” said Forrice.
“Well, then?”
“I want to be part of a
better
Navy!”
“And I want to be twenty-three years old with my whole future ahead of me and someone like Rachel waiting for me in my cabin,” said Cole. “I think we’re both doomed to be disappointed, so we’ll make the best of what we’ve got.”
“Do you expect to be doing this five years from now?”
Cole shrugged. “Who the hell knows anymore? Two years ago I didn’t expect to be a pirate. Last year I didn’t expect to be a mercenary. I’ve given up guessing what the future holds. I’m just taking it one day at a time.”
“I know,” said Forrice. “I just get depressed sometimes.”
“That’s because there’s not two cents’ difference between Men and Molarians,” said Cole. “At least, not in the things that count. You’re the only other race with a sense of humor. Maybe you’re the only other one that gets depressed, too.”
“Probably,” agreed Forrice.
“You’ve been my closest friend for a dozen years,” said Cole. “I want you to feel free to talk to me any time you’re feeling this way.”
“I appreciate that.”
“There’s a corollary.”
“I know,” said the Molarian, his mouth twisted into an alien smile. “Don’t talk to the crew about it.”
“You got it.”
There was a brief pause.
“Do we have any business to discuss?”
“Nothing we didn’t have on our plates yesterday,” said Forrice. “We still need a permanent Third Officer now that Val’s got her own ship.”
“When the right candidate comes along, we’ll know it,” said Cole. “Too bad she’s keeping Perez with her. The man has qualities.”
“You just like anyone who’s on the run from the Navy,” said Forrice.
“Can you think of a better qualification?” replied Cole wryly.
Forrice was about to answer when Jaxtaboxl’s image appeared.
“Everything went smoothly, sir. The shuttle landed, the cannons have been offloaded, and Lieutenants Sokolov and Domak are on their way back to the ship.”
“Good,” said Cole. “Let me know when we have the location we need. It’ll be coming sometime in the next four hours.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
“It will,” said Cole with absolute certainty.
He was right. It took the Thuggees just over three Standard hours to field test the laser cannons. Then, satisfied, Rashid fed the location of the prison that was holding Quinta into the
Teddy R
’s computer.
“It’s on a continent called Jaipur,” announced Jaxtaboxl. “I’ve shown all the data to Val, who has selected the
Edith
to carry the landing party.”
“Okay. See if you can piggyback some local computer and find out whatever you can about Jaipur. Four Eyes, make sure every member of the landing party stops by the armory and draws a burner, a screecher, and a pulse gun. Is it day or night where they’re landing?”
“Twilight, sir,” said Jaxtaboxl.
“Night-vision contacts for everyone,” ordered Cole.
“We don’t have any for Pepons,” said Forrice.
“All right. Bujandi will just have to make do. Where’s David?”
“In the officers’ lounge.”
“Patch me through.” Cole raised his voice. “David, get over to the shuttle bay.”
“Why?” asked David, seated on a chair in the tiny room.
“Because we don’t know what Quinta looks like and you do.”
“He’s a Thrale.”
“What if they have three Thrales in the damned prison?” said Cole.
“Then
ask
which one is Quinta.”
“David, stop giving me a hard time and get your ass down to the bay.”
“I can’t, Steerforth!”
“I read the book too,” said Cole. “Are you trying to tell me that David Copperfield was a coward?”
“He was a survivor!” said Copperfield.
“You’ll survive. Just get down there.”
“Your team are just mercenaries, doing a job,” said Copperfield desperately. “The Thuggees know that. But I’m a fence—or at least I was. And we’re here because of what they do to fences.”
“Just tell them you’re not a fence anymore.”
“Why should they listen? I’ll be the one who identifies Quinta.”
Val’s image appeared to the right of Copperfield’s. “I’ve been listening,” she said. “Let him stay. I don’t want any cowards serving with me.”
“I’m not serving at all!” shouted Copperfield. “I’m a businessman and a Victorian gentleman!”
“Keep him,” said Val.
“You’re sure?” asked Cole.
“The soiled pants might give us away.”
“I resent that!” said Copperfield.
“Okay, come along then,” she said.
“I said I resented it,” said Copperfield morosely. “I never said I denied it.”
“We’re just about ready to go,” announced Val. “We’ll have the party loaded and be on our way in less than a minute.”
“Once you touch down on the planet, leave one member of your party aboard the
Edith
,” said Cole.
“Why?”
“To make sure it’s still there when you get back.”
“All right,” she agreed. “It makes sense.”
Her image vanished, and Cole decided he had nothing further to say to David so he broke the connection.
He watched the viewscreen on the shuttle through the holocam on Sokolov’s shoulder. Val had elected not to approach the city directly with the
Edith
, but to fly toward the ocean separating Jaipur from its sister continents.
Curious
, he mused,
that all their nations and continents are named after Indian cities, but nothing is named India
.
The shuttlecraft got to within two hundred feet of the ocean’s surface, then leveled out and headed west toward Jaipur. Once there it went lower still, avoiding all conventional radar and sensing devices, and finally, about twenty minutes later, it touched down about two miles beyond what was obviously the city where Quinta was incarcerated. The team silently emerged from the shuttle and began moving stealthily toward the outskirts of the city, keeping to the shadows along the poorly lit minor streets.
Damn it!
thought Cole, as he watched them through Sokolov’s camera.
Val’s too big! She stands out.
The party made its way deep into the heart of the city through the crazily winding streets, around oddly shaped buildings, with Val constantly checking her wrist computer. Then, finally, she gave the signal to halt, and using more hand signals began dividing her party and scattering them around a massive stone building, and Cole knew they had reached their destination. One by one they vanished into the building—
—And then, suddenly, Cole could hear an ear-shattering alarm. The scene on Sokolov’s holocam became too blurred to follow, as he spun, ran, avoided a laser blast, disabled a Thuggee at close quarters, and dove for cover amid more beams of solid light. Cole could hear Val’s bellowed curses over the hum of lasers, the buzz of screechers, even the thunderclaps of projectile weapons.
“I don’t know if you can hear me, sir,” said Sokolov’s voice, “but we’ve got a bit of a situation here. I think we’re—”
And then the transmission stopped as an old-fashioned bullet tore through the holocam.
“Vladimir!” shouted Cole. “Can you hear me?”
There was only silence at the other end.
20
“
Shit!
” muttered Cole. “Who’s on the
Edith
?”
“Lieutenant Mueller.”
“Patch me through,” said Cole. “Idena, this is Cole. Take off this instant.”
“But sir,” said Idena Miller’s voice. “I’m waiting for—“
“No arguments! Just do it!”
“Yes, sir.”
“We’ve got to help them, Wilson,” said Forrice.
“I know. Pilot, take us down to within half a mile of the surface, and hold us steady directly above the jail.”
Forrice headed off to the airlift. “I’m going down to Gunnery,” he said. “Give me half a minute to get there, then tell me what you want and where you want it aimed.”
“Will do. Someone get Christine up here!” ordered Cole.
“She’s sleeping,” said Jaxtaboxl.
“Then wake her. I want her up here.”
“But—”
“I don’t mean to hurt your feelings,” said Cole, “but our people are in danger down there, and I want the best I’ve got.” He turned to Wxakgini. “Pilot, how’s it coming?”
“Another twenty seconds,” replied Wxakgini.
“Where’s Briggs?”
“I’m not sure, sir,” said Jaxtaboxl.
“Find him and get him up here, on the double!”
“I’ve summoned him.”
“When he gets here,” said Cole, “put him on the armory console.”
“I thought Commander Forrice was handling the weaponry, sir,” said Jaxtaboxl.
“He’s on offense,” said Cole. “If they start shooting back, I need someone to do nothing but handle our defenses. That’s Briggs.”
“We have arrived at the location you requested,” announced Wxakgini.
“All right. Four Eyes, can you hear me?”
“Yes,” answered the Molarian.
“Home in on any building you like within a city block of the jail, and blow it away. If you can find one with all the lights out, one that looks empty, so much the better, but don’t waste any time.”
“Weapon?”
“Level 3 laser. Let’s let ’em think we’re no better armed than they are, so they’ll concentrate on shooting us down. If we give ’em any time to consider their situation, they’ll hit on the notion of holding our people hostage.”
“Done,” announced Forrice. “I just took out a building thirty yards northwest of the jail.”
“Are there any vehicles in the street?”
“I think so,” answered the Molarian. “They’re not like any I’ve ever seen, but they’re clearly not dwellings, and they
are
outside. Wait! One’s moving. Yes, they’re definitely vehicles.”
“Do whatever it takes with the lasers to set half a dozen of them on fire.”
“Four . . . five . . . all done, that’s six.”
“
That
should convince them there are more important things to worry about than the jail.”
Christine came onto the bridge and walked immediately to her station.
“Sorry to wake you,” said Cole. “Monitor any transmissions coming from the jail or the city and let me know what’s happening. Where the hell is Briggs?”