THE HELMSMAN: Director's Cut Edition (39 page)

Shortly after he stepped onto blue Concourse 991, his eyes were drawn to a bright red dress and golden curls below as the walkway moved across orange 55. Heart racing, he peered over the glowing azure balustrade. It was Margot — no mistaking her ever again. She was arm in arm with a highly decorated commander. No mistaking
him
either. Rogan LaKarn. Brim felt his spirits plummet to despair. Gritting his teeth in jealous anger, he stepped back to the center of the moving concourse and continued on without looking back. He bit his lip as his mind's eye peevishly tortured him with imagined scenes in Margot's bedroom, the one
he
had left no more than a few metacycles before!

Then he snorted in the midst of his hopeless frustration. If nothing else, his recent efforts would certainly serve to benumb the edge of LaKarn's bedtime pleasures. He laughed a little to himself about that. It helped some. But not enough.

* * * *

“'Civilization Lixor,'“ Theada read aloud as he stared into a display in
Truculent's
nearly deserted bridge. “'Number of stars: one; number of planets: twelve (one habitable); Total Population (Census of 51995): 8,206,800; Capital: Tandor-Ra; Monetary Unit: Arbera.'“ He slouched in the right-hand Helmsman's station with his feet propped comfortably on the center console perusing
The Galactic Almanac (And Handy Encyclopedia) for
51997. “Don't ya just
love
it?” he asked grumpily, waiting for a test routine to terminate.

“Yeah. I love it,” Brim snorted while his own diagnostic routine splashed vibrant colors across the left-hand console before him. He idly brought the same information to a more convenient display and continued to read for himself:

Lixor is the only habitable planet among 12 satellites orbiting Hogath-37 (binary red and green star of eclipsing separation 3.0°) occupying a strategic location in the 91
st
Province astride three cross-galaxy trade routes (R-99183, C.48-E-7, and 948.RJT) that skirt massive and treacherous asteroid shoals extending for hundreds of c'lenyts in all directions. Twice the size of Proteus, this planet orbits with an Arias19 type of synchronous rotation that perpetually directs the same hemisphere toward its star. Nearly 100% of the population inhabits this hemisphere, tropical at that portion nearest the light, temperate at the zone of transition (“Lands of Shadows”). The dark hemisphere is little used except for starship landing facilities. Inguer and Vatthan are the largest star ports…

Outside in the perpetual nighttime of a military dockyard near Inguer, the dim, fog-shrouded world almost bashfully revealed itself in the feeble glow of three reddish-blue moons. Now and again, a restless breeze shredded the flowing mist enough that Brim could see a few irals of
Truculent's
frost-caked deck. Occasionally, there were glimpses of the glowing gravity pool below and sometimes the dark outlines of capable looking patrol vessels berthed nearby, including a compact battleship of unique Lixorian design. He shook his head. For all practical purposes, this end of the crazy world made even Haefdon seem like a tropical paradise in comparison.

Five standard months — a lifetime, almost — had passed since Avalon and the luxury of the Lordglen House of State. Even the heady pleasures of Margot's bedroom dimmed in the pitiless, grinding confusion of all-out blockade warfare. The busy, hardworking Princess herself had become a magnificent chimera, especially now that her messages had nearly ceased to arrive again.

Theada completed his suite of checkouts, then, smiling wearily, started aft toward the bridge exit (and wardroom). Brim initiated still another long diagnostic routine on the master console and listlessly returned his gaze to the
Almanac.

Resources and Industries

Although half of the habitable land mass is forested, Lixor contains much productive land on which Lixorians have attained high efficiency in agriculture. Of the total land area, 9.9% is cultivated, 2.5% pasture. Chief agriculture outputs include grains, vegetable oils, fibers, and logus products.

Main natural resources are forests, a vast asteroid belt containing rich deposits of metal, and solar power. Other forms of energy are imported. Commerce (including a thriving armaments industry) employs 35% of the work population, agriculture 7%. Lixorian hullmetal is of special value for reaction-chamber vessels. Other ores produced are metallic zar'clinium, lead, copper , metallic zar'clinium, hullmetal, and a “thriving armaments industry.”

Commerce indeed, Brim laughed grimly to himself. Everybody desperately needed Lixorian goods, Imperials and Leaguers alike
(Truculent's
own reaction chambers were encased in superb Lixorian hull metal). He continued to read.

History and Politics

Lixor is a parliamentary democracy with a king as head of state and a prime minister as principal operating officer…

The Government holds permanent memberships in the Trans-galaxian Educational Cooperative, LANN, EC, and United Independent Trading Council. During the present hostilities, the nation remains neutral, maintaining time-limited, renewable trade agreements with all major powers. Approximately .1 percent of its Gross Product (GP) is distributed in aid to developing civilizations.

The
Almanac,
as usual, used polite words to describe what Brim (and disdaining people all over the galaxy) regarded as a distinctly non-polite situation. The avaricious Lixorians sold everything and anything they could manufacture to
both
sides of the great galactic struggle with no compunction whatsoever, even while pontificating vociferously about their abhorrence of war. Brim shook his head. Lixorians had it
all
their way, it seemed. Playing both sides against the middle, they kept the major combatants constantly reminded of a (very real) need to “protect” irreplaceable Lixorian industries. So long as both sides depended on Lixorian output, neither dared to destroy it. And Lixorian coffers swelled accordingly, in conjunction with their small but expensive military space fleet, which included ten very powerful space forts on “formed” asteroids placed strategically in orbits around their planet.

Defense

Full mobilizable strength exceeds 750,000. Military service is compulsory. A sphere of ten powerful, permanently manned forts constructed from large asteroids and towed into place protects the single inhabited planet. Each fort is armed with enormous disruptors of special Lixorian manufacture. The starfleet is powerful considering the size of the civilization it protects but is mostly limited to numerous small craft (mainly LightSpeed-limited torpedo-and cannon-armed patrol craft) optimized in the direction of high acceleration and maneuverability for synergism with the space forts. Three small area-defense battleships of the Reneken class complete this efficient defense organization.

The
right
to buy Lixorian goods was negotiated by treaty every two Standard years, when prices were raised to the threshold of outright economic pain, then a few Arberas more, all of which had to do with
Truculent's
arrival on the strange planet hardly more than a Standard day earlier.

With the present treaty only Standard Weeks from expiration, the Lixorian Prime Minister had at last “permitted” Greyffin IV's Imperial Government to petition for new terms.
Truculent
, outbound from her patching at Gimmas/Haefdon, was fortuitously available at the time and commandeered by the Admiralty to carry a team of economic negotiators who would hammer out details of the new agreement, but not sign it. the latter was reserved for more impressive diplomats traveling aboard a powerful battlecruiser squadron with a highly classified arrival schedule.

Shortly after planetfall, Gallsworthy and Pym had taken one of the launches to fly Collingswood, Amherst, and the negotiators into a resort area near Tandor-Ra where bargaining sessions were scheduled to begin on the morrow. Now the destroyer and her crew awaited return of their principal members and the launch before returning to the blockade zone.

At last finished with his final set of diagnostic routines, Brim wearily pulled himself from his recliner and started aft toward the chart room and the bridge exit, the end of another seemingly endless watch.

He never made it from the bridge.

“Lieutenant Brim,” Applewood called from the COMM console. “A KA'PPA for you marked, 'Most urgent emergency priority.' “

Brim raised an eyebrow and turned toward the signal rating; one whole section of his console was flashing the bright blue of a top-priority transmission.

“Overrode the bloody mail and Admiralty messages, it did, Lieutenant,” Applewood grumped. “Have to restart the whole sequence now.”

“For
me?”
Brim asked, ignoring the other's complaints.

“From the Captain,” Applewood replied, his bald head shining in the strange moonlight. “Funny stuff goin' on, Lieutenant. COMM bands are full of craziness. Noise and strange talk like Leaguer jargon, kind of. All over…”

Thoughts of rest forgotten, Brim hurried to the COMM console. “Let's have the message,” he said, frowning.

Applewood generated a text globe. “MOST URGENT EMERGENCY PRIORITY FOR WILF BRIM @ TRUCULENT FROM COLLINGSWOOD @ TANDOR-RA,” the message began. “CONFERENCE AREA UNDER HEAVY AIR BOMBARDMENT BY THREE LEAGUE DESTROYERS (BELIEVE Zagrail class). LAUNCH DESTROYED.” The transmission stopped abruptly with the words, “YOU ARE IN COMMAND.”

“Is that all?” Brim demanded.

“Don't think so, somehow,” Applewood grunted as he busily tried to pick up more transmissions. “But my readouts indicate a time-out on the data stream. I think maybe they lost their KA'PPA, or...” He stopped in midsentence. “Here, Lieutenant,” he said abruptly. “Here's somethin' else now. Broadcast in the clear, audio
and
video. Look.” He activated a display globe:

Citizens of Tandor-Ra: The League is aware your mediators are about to negotiate a new economic treaty with the Universal scum from the Empire. Heed this personal warning from Nergol Triannic delivered by units of His mighty starfleets:

“We shall tolerate no special terms for the crawling spawn of Greyffin IV. Keep in mind it is
only
by Our good will that you continue to do business with this filth from Avalon. Should you grant favorable terms at this or subsequent meetings, We shall know and you will mark Our anger well.”

My ships will return in a few cycles to administer a second warning. Note carefully that we do not attack Lixor or Lixorians. Therefore, we shall consider it an act of war should any Lixorian forces take hostile action against us. (signed) K. L. Valentin, Overprefect, S.M.S.
Grothor.

Valentin! Narrowing his eyes, Brim lost no more than a few clicks as he made up his mind. “Mr. Chairman,” he ordered quietly, “pull Collingswood's message up on every ship's console so people don't waste time asking questions, then sound 'Action Stations.' By authority of the Captain's orders, I am taking immediate command of this ship.”

“Acknowledged, Lieutenant,” the Chairman intoned. Brim retraced his way forward among the consoles amid alarms sounding from the companionway. Valentin! The same Valentin, possibly? He shrugged, already too busy to give the matter more than passing thought. Less than a cycle later, the first of
Truculent's
flight crew began galloping onto the bridge and into their battle suits.

“Rig ship for immediate lift-off, Jubal,” Brim yelled as the younger Helmsman activated the right-hand console. “Nik! I'll need full military power soon as you get the antigravs on stream.”

Without a word, Ursis smashed off the main power limiters, then dump-started both generators at the same time. Brim had never been aboard a starship, anywhere, when the power drain was enough to dim the bridge lights.
Truculent's
nearly went out. But the consoles held their function, and with the deck shuddering violently beneath his feet, he listened as the big machines began spinning up.

“Anastasia,” he shouted over the rising sound, “I'm going to need every weapons system you've got! Disruptors. Mines. Torpedoes. The whole toot and stumble.”

“How about a couple of rocks?” Fourier quipped from a display.

“Great idea,” Brim laughed. “If you got some, keep 'em handy. You never know.”

“Generators are running and ready at standby,” Ursis reported from a display. .

Stunned, Brim looked at his own instruments. “Universe,” he gulped, “you did that in four cycles.”

“I am in a personal hurry to see who this Valentin is,” Ursis said with tooth gems flashing.

“Thanks, Nik,” Brim said. He meant it. Outside through the swirling fog, he saw the base had suddenly come alive. Everywhere lamps were doused, but moonlight revealed heavy traffic on the access roads as crews raced for their vessels. Soon mooring beams began to wink out, but not a ship moved from its gravity pool.

“Tandor-Ra's broadcast orders that none of the ships outside are to lift, Lieutenant,” Applewood reported momentarily. “Sent the best part of the message in the clear, they did. And nobody who's already up is to interfere in any way.”

“The bastards,” Brim snarled through clenched teeth. “The xaxtdamned, credit-grabbing, Lixorian bastards are going to let those Leaguers get away with this.” He pounded his fist on the arm of his recliner, watching analogs feverishly stowing loose equipment on his own frosty decks below.

“One does not anger customers when one's business is minding a store,” Ursis growled without looking up from his console.

Wash from idling generators all over the pool area had cleared the air, and the whole group of ships was now centered at the bottom of a great open-topped cylinder whose walls were made of swirling tendrils of fog. “Special-duty starmen close up for takeoff, Mr. Chairman,” Brim ordered.

“At your command, Lieutenant,” the Chairman answered. More alarms went off below and the mooring cupolas lighted.