Battle of the Ring (31 page)

After a minute of this a sentry ambled into the chamber and paused just
inside the door. Lenna glanced over her shoulder and realized that this was not
Bill. There was no heavy rifle strapped over his left shoulder. While Bill had
been checking the lift, the second sentry had heard the sounds of the fight and
hurried to investigate. She was also trapped with Skerri in front and the
hostile sentry behind. Then she realized that it was confused by the sight of
two Union officers. Skerri was just as quick to recognize the problem.

“I am Lieutenant Captain Denas Skerri,” he stated
authoritatively. “This is an imposter. Shoot to kill!”

The machine did not respond immediately; perhaps it was checking his visual
identification against the file to confirm his claim. Lenna turned back to him
and did her best to kick his balls off, then slipped behind him to put his bent
form between herself and the sentry. Skerri recovered with surprising speed,
turning to face her. Lenna drew back and launched herself at him, kicking with
all her strength into the very center of his chest. Skerri was thrown backward,
actually leaving the ground for most of his three-meter flight. He crashed
back-first into the front of the sentry’s head, the pencil-thin barrels
of its two smaller guns driving ten centimeters into his back. But he was dead
already, his chest crushed by her kick.

Lenna had fallen sprawling to the ground, and she rolled to one side as
bolts from the sentry’s larger cannons deflected off the floor where she
had been. It shook its head violently to free itself of the burden of the body
penned there. Lenna had hoped to slip around behind it, but now she was
hopelessly trapped between the two launch tubes. The sentry tracked her darting
movements with its head until it had her, and fired.

The protective flarings on both of the sentry’s forward guns were
blocked with thick blood, and the bolts discharged within the focusing lenses
before they could cut through those barriers, causing the head of the
unfortunate machine to explode. However, as Velmeran had discovered a couple of
years before, that was only a minor complication to the normal function of a
sentry. The headless machine staggered blindly as it sought its prey by the
infrared scanners on its chest.

Lenna dived over the top of the launch tube, using that for shelter as she
searched for her gun. The sentry fired two short bursts over her head as it
continued to seek her. Then Bill was there, ramming the stricken sentry from
behind to knock it off balance before discharging a round of bolts into its
vulnerable lower hull. Lenna waited for the shooting to stop before she peered
cautiously over the top of the tube.

“Thank you, Bill. Nice work,” she said, climbing over the
protective barrier. Then she saw the broken body of Lieutenant Skerri where it
had been tossed aside. For a moment she allowed herself the privilege of
turning pale, just as she had those times in the chilly streets of Kallenes.
Half of it was from the sudden awareness that she had killed this man herself,
half from the realization that it had nearly been herself. For a moment she
wanted to sit down and cry, but this was hardly the time or place. You wanted
to be a Starwolf, Miss Makayen, and so you are, she reminded herself. This is
just the ugly part of the business.

“They are dead,” Bill said helpfully, no doubt meaning to be
reassuring.

“Sure, and that’s what bothers me about it,” Lenna said.
“I’d better seal this up to make sure that it works the way we
want, then we’ll be on our way. Think you can get us back to the airlock
where we first met?”

“Yes, that is a simple matter.”

“Don here,” Commander Trace responded, speaking into his com
unit as he sat down wearily on the step. “Is that you, Kea?”

“Yes, Commander. Fifty minutes from your mark.”

Donalt Trace sighed and nodded in dismal agreement to no one in particular.
“Wait five more minutes and order a general evacuation from the power
core. Seal up the core completely, from one end of the ship to the other. We
haven’t found the slightest hint of tampering, much less a bomb. No
wonder he was so sure of himself.”

He paused a moment to watch the workers swarming over the surface of the
power core, surrounding it in a ring that moved slowly forward. There were
fifty live workers and twice as many automatons. In the last three-quarters of
an hour they had removed nearly two thousand access panels.

“Go ahead and bypass the power core for the secondary power
grid,” he continued. “That way we won’t be caught by surprise
when the core blows. If I guess right, you’ll see the Methryn show her
broken nose just about the time the thing goes. Draw her in as close as you
can; this time we don’t want her getting away.”

“Right,” Maeken agreed. “By the way, that stunned sentry
just attacked and destroyed another down in the lower decks. I would like to
know how the Starwolf did that. Do you have the device?”

“Well, I...” Trace looked as stunned as the automaton in
question.

“Surely you did search him for the device?” Maeken asked.

“I was too preoccupied with worrying about that damned bomb!”

“No wonder he was so sure that he could escape whenever he wants. No
doubt he’s been waiting for the core to blow. I suggest...”

“On my way!” Trace assured her as he jumped from the steps and
headed for the nearest lift, suddenly very afraid that the little Starwolf had
escaped him again. He was actually startled to see Velmeran still seated
impatiently on his stool, the alert sentries still standing guard. He stopped
short, regarding the mildly surprised captive before arrogantly walking over to
hold out an impatient hand.

“There is the matter of the little device that you use to stun my
sentries,” he explained. “You should have used it when you had the
chance.”

Velmeran’s first reaction was one of complete confusion, but that
demand had been fairly self-explanatory and he needed only an instant to figure
things out. After a brief hesitation he opened his chestplate and removed a
small rectangular device, nine centimeters by five and just over two thick,
with several clip-in leads in the back. It looked very impressive, smaller than
Trace had anticipated. Unfortunately for him, it was only the emergency power
unit for the suit.

“Does this have the same effect on the airlock controls?” Trace
asked.

“It has the same effect on a number of electronic devices, including
such things as lifts and navigational guidance systems,” Velmeran
answered truthfully. Of course, it had no effect on anything as far as he knew.

“Clever little machine,” Trace commented as he tucked it into
his pocket. “Are you in any pain?”

“A little discomfort,” Velmeran answered. “An unavoidable
part of rapid regeneration. I have nothing to take for it.”

“Oh? What would you need?”

Velmeran thought for a moment. “You might ask Dr. Wriestler if he has
any pyridoxine.”

“Right away,” Trace promised as he left on his errand.

Velmeran watched until the door closed behind him, then quickly focused his
thoughts on a nearby portion of the ship.
Sherry?

I am just finishing,
she responded immediately.
I will be ready as
soon as you can get here. Then I am on my way.

At least Velmeran hoped so. He closed his eyes as he concentrated fully
on directing his talents. Half a minute passed before anything began to happen.
Suddenly he felt his way begin to open. The lights dimmed, and the sentries
reeled momentarily under a loss of power. And Velmeran simply vanished.

Only a matter of seconds passed before Commander Trace returned. He was
halfway across the room before he noticed that the five attentive sentries were
guarding an empty stool. He nearly tripped in his astonishment. There was only
one way in and out of the room, and he had not been out of sight of that door.
The sentries continued to stare at the stool as if their prisoner was still
seated there, and Trace, startled and confused half out of his wits, walked
over to the stool to confirm that the Starwolf was indeed gone.

“How did he escape?” he demanded of the nearest sentry.
“You were ordered to shoot to kill if he left the stool.”

“I am aware of my orders,” the sentry reported concisely.
“The prisoner did not leave the stool.”

“Well, he sure didn’t take it with him! Where did he go?”

“He vanished.”

Trace blinked in bemusement before realization set in. Velmeran must have
had another device, stunning the entire group. This vanishing act sounded too
much like that ‘I did not see anyone’ business. He turned and
stalked from the room, only to be intercepted at the door by the physician.

“Here you are!” Wriestler said, thrusting a small plastic bottle
containing several pills under the Sector Commander’s nose. Trace took
the bottle and stared at it.

“What the hell is this?” He demanded.

“What you asked for,” Wriestler explained triumphantly.
“Pyridoxine. Vitamin B
₆
.”

Rifle in hand, Baress advanced cautiously to the single door leading into
the auxiliary bridge and peered out. Consherra, seated at the main computer
console, frowned without looking up. Baress was as regular as clockwork; in the
last fifty-five minutes he had checked that door exactly fifty-five times.

“Velmeran should be coming in a few minutes,” she remarked. Her
four hands were moving over two separate keyboards with lightning speed.
“I just told him that I am finishing this up.”

“Right on time,” Baress remarked, consulting the chronometer
built into one of the sleeves of his suit. “I wonder what Velmeran has
been up to. Whatever he did, every sentry in this end of the ship took off at a
run a long time ago and they never came back. For that matter, I wonder where
he is.”

“Right behind you.”

Baress was so startled that he spun around and fired two shots from the
powerful rifle into the ceiling overheard, and even Consherra nearly fell out
of her chair. Velmeran, looking very pale and worn, sat in the Captain’s
seat, staring apprehensively at the smoking holes in the ceiling immediately
over his head.

“I do not know whether to compliment you for not shooting me, or just
be glad you missed,” he remarked, then turned to Consherra. “Close
your mouth and get back to work. I want to get out of here.”

Consherra admitted to the logic in that and returned to work.

“But... but how did you get in here?” Baress demanded. “I
never left that door.”

“I did not come through the door, I teleported.”

Consherra glanced at him over her shoulder. “I would sooner believe
that you put yourself in a box and came through the mail.”

Velmeran shrugged. “Believe what you will. Now that I consider it, I
am known for entirely too much wizardry as it is.”

That was the wrong answer, of course. By denying it, he had inadvertently
forced Consherra to feel obliged to believe in him. She glared at him.
“What have you been doing, anyway? You look about half dead. What
happened to your helmet and weapons?”

“Don has them,” he explained. “I have spent the better
part of the last hour as his guest.”

“Then you were the grand diversion that brought every sentry on this
ship at a run?” Baress asked.

“Only at first. I hinted to Don that there is a bomb in the power core
of the ship, and that he had an hour to find it.”

Baress grinned mischievously. “I can imagine how that made them
hop!”

“Exactly,” Velmeran agreed. “He was so generally delighted
to have me, and so nervous about finding that bomb, that it never occurred to
him that there might be other Starwolves on his fine, big ship.”

“That does it,” Consherra announced suddenly. “Now we can
go home. What about your weapons and helmet?”

“Nothing I can do about that.”

“Well, you can at least have a gun,” Baress said as he offered a
pistol.

“I can do better than that,” Consherra said as she began to
removed her belt. “Let me keep one pistol for reassurance and you can
have the rest. It will do you more good.”

“Drop those weapons!”

The three Starwolves glanced up to see Commander Trace and two crewmembers
standing at the door, rifles aimed to fire, as five additional crewmembers
filed in to take up positions surrounding the prisoners. There was no question
of escape or fighting back; this could not have come at a worse time.
Baress’s rifle stood beside the door, while Consherra’s was lying
beside the console. Velmeran had no weapons, Consherra was holding her weapons
belt with the pistols clipped in their holsters, and Baress had laid both of
his pistols on the console. Consherra looked questioningly at Velmeran, but he
indicated for her to comply.

“Damn it all, anyway,” he muttered in disgust. “If I had
not been so tired, they never would have been able to sneak up on us.”

“Now, move away from that console,” Trace directed. “Out
into the open.”

The three Starwolves did as they were told.

“Might I ask how you managed to find us so quickly?” Velmeran
asked.

“That was a very simple matter,” Trace said, lowering his weapons
now that the Starwolves were safely surrounded. “The ship reported a
partial power loss in that diagnostic room in the sick bay and here at the same
time. Whatever the cause, it suggested where to find you.”

Velmeran shrugged indifferently. “I guess that I need to work that out
before I try it again.”

“There will be no next time,” Trace said ominously. “I
will not risk having you escape a second time. That is why I took that little
memento out of your hide, remember. I knew at the time that I would probably
have to kill you.”

“Do not be a fool,” Velmeran said sharply. “I am still in
control of this situation. If you want to live, then you will get out of here
now.”