Read Captive of the Centaurianess Online

Authors: Poul Anderson

Tags: #Science Fiction

Captive of the Centaurianess (5 page)

BOOK: Captive of the Centaurianess
10.95Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

"I'll start the warmup, sir," the head mechanic said.

"No, don't bother, ve'll take her straight out," Dyann replied.

Aghast, he protested, "Madame, you don't understand. That'll cause carbon deposits in the tubes. You'll risk engine failure, a crash—"

"You find that an acceptable risk," Dyann told the secret policeman.

"Yes, of course I do," he choked. "The .. . the Leader tells us no hazard is too great for the cause."

Dyann propelled him ahead of her through the airlock. In the control cabin, she pushed him into the pilot's recoil chair, which she recognized from her travels around Earth. "I hope you can fly vun of these," she said.

"I hope so too," added Urushkidan. He slithered off the Jovian, secured the airlock, and knitted himself to a passenger seat.

"Ve are goin to find Ray Tallantyre," Dyann instructed the man. Part of her thought that she was beginning to sound obsessive. Yet, given the witch's brew of events in which she had somehow submerged herself, it was as reasonable a plan of action as any. Ray's shrewdness and sophistication might lend her the vital extra help, when Ormun was being left behind. In fact, this appeared to have been Ormun's intention.

"What do you mean?" the officer asked. He seemed a trifle disconcerted and confused.

"Ray Tallantyre, the Earthman that vas arrested off the
Yovian Qveen
" Dyann said with what she congratulated herself was exemplary patience. "You in your service ought to know vere he is kept. Vould some blows refresh your memory?"

"Camp Muellenhoff, you savage!" he got out. "North of the city. You'll never succeed. You'll kill us all."

Dyann smiled. "Then ve vill feast forever vith the gods, in the Hall of Skulls," she comforted him. "Von't that be nice?"

The cradle got into motion, rumbling toward the hangar airlock. Up a long ramp . . . into the chamber . . . darkness outside, as valves closed . . . hollow noise of pumps, withdrawing air. . . . Urushkidan relit his pipe with shaky tendrils. Dyann whistled tunelessly between her teeth.

"I am not so sure we are wise," the Martian said. "Tis bessel cannot carry us away from te Jobian System, or eben to anoter satellite of te planet."

"No, you are not wise," the political officer agreed eagerly.

"Hindsight vill show," Dyann responded. "Meanvile,
you
vould be most unvise not to pilot like I tell you."

The outer valve opened. The cradle rolled out onto the field. Behind that flat expanse, the dome which covered Wotanopolis glowed against sawtoothed mountains, rearing above a near horizon, and starlit sky. The dwarfed pale sun cast luminance from the west. Only one other spacecraft was in sight, a black shape which Dyann could identify as a patrol ship.

"They vill come out after us in force pretty soon," she said. "Vat can ve do about that boat yonder, ha?" She reached a decision. "Ah, yes." Her involuntary pilot received his orders. When he clamored refusal, she reminded him, briefly but painfully, that he was no volunteer but, indeed, an impressed man. The engine thuttered and the little scientific craft rose.

Having reached altitude, she descended again, sufficiently to play her jets across the patrol ship. That was not good for the patrol ship.

Dyann didn't bother to receive whatever they were trying to tell her from the control tower. "Now," she stated as her boat rose anew, "you, my policeman friend, take us to this prison and make them release Tallantyre to us. If this goes okay, ve vill set you free somevere. If not—" she passed the edge of her knife across the back of his hand, neatly shaving off hairs, "you may still be a police, but you might not be a man."

"You unutterable monster," he said.

"It is nicer droppin nuclear missiles on cities?" she asked, genuinely bemused.

"Yes," Urushkidan snickered, "I habe had a digestibe pouch full of you Jobians talking about te glories of war and destiny and te will of te Race and historical necessity and suchlike tings. Perhaps in future you will wish to employ more logical rigor."

The flight was short to Camp Muellenhoff. It lay out on the surface, a cluster of pressure huts around a watchtower. There was no barbed wire; the Ganymedean environment gave ample security. If a spacesuited prisoner did slip away from a work detail, the sole question was whether a local monster would get him before his oxygen or his heat pack was exhausted.

When the boat landed in the area, such a figure was urged toward her airlock by a couple of others. The political officer had radioed ahead the demand he was supposed to, quite convincingly. A voice did rattle out of her receiver: "Sir, I've been ordered to ask if you really want to bring this prisoner back to town. We've lately been alerted to watch out for a party of escaped desperadoes."

"Yes," the secret policeman said between clenched teeth, "I want him back in town. Oh. how I want him back in town!"

The captive stumbled into the cabin. Ice promptly formed over his armor. Dyann gave a command, the boat stood on her tail and screamed off toward parts unknown, the newly rescued person clattered against the after bulkhead and lay asprawl.

Presently, when they were flying on an even keel, he opened his faceplate. Slightly battered, the countenance of Ray Tallantyre emerged. "
Haa-ai
, dear sveetheart!" Dyann cried. She reached for him, touched his suit, and withdraw her hand with a yelp. "How are you?" she asked, not very distinctly since she was sucking frostbitten fingers.

"Well . . . I . . . well, not too bad." he answered out of his bewilderment. "A rough time but . . . mainly it was truth drugs . . . they told me I'd be shot as a, a precautionary measure—"

"Poor, dear Ray! Poor little Earthlin! Lie easy. I vill soon take care of you."

"Yeah, I'm afraid you will."

"Te immediate question," Urushkidan said, "is, Tallantyre, can you pilot a behicle of tis type?"

"Well, uh. yes, I suppose I can," Ray answered. "Looks like a modified Astrid-Luscombe. . . . Yes, I can."

"Good. Ten we can drop tis creature here. I do not like and/or trust him. He smells of phenylalanine—Dyann! Do you mean we are not simply going to
drop
him?"

"I made my promise," the woman said.

They descended on a rocky plateau, gave the secret policeman a spacesuit, and dismissed him. He should be able to reach the camp, given reasonable luck. Nevertheless he bemoaned his maltreatment.

"And now. vat next?" Dyann asked blithely.

"Lord knows," Ray sighed. "I suppose we find us a place in the wilderness where we aren't likely to be spotted for a while, and take stock. Maybe, in some crazy fashion, we can contact the Union embassy. You and Urushkidan ought to rate diplomatic intervention, and I can ride on your cloaks. Maybe. First we find that hideyhole, and second we prepare to skedaddle if we spy a Jovian flyer."

He strapped into the master seat and tickled the controls. The boat lifted readily, but after a moment began to shake, while ominous noises came through the engine-room radiation wall.

"Could tat be te effects of carbon deposits in te tubes tat we were warned about?" wondered Urushkidan.

Ray grimaced. "You mean you took off without proper warmup? Yes. I'm afraid it is." His fingers danced across the board. The response he got was erratic. "We'll have to land soon. Else we crash. It'll take a week before the radioactivity is low enough that we can go out and clean the jets."

"And meanvile is a satellite-vide hunt after us." Dyann's clear brow wrinkled. "Is Ormun offended because I did not invite her alon? It does seem our luck is runnin low."

"And," said Ray. "how!"

 

IV

 

He used the last sputter of ions to set down in a valley which appeared to be as wild and remote as one could hope for. However, when he got a look through a viewport, he wondered if he hadn't overdone it.

Around the boat was a stretch of seamed and pitied stone, sloping up on every side toward fang-cragged hills. The glow of Jupiter shimmered, weirdly colored, off a distant glacier and a closer pool of liquid methane. The latter had begun boiling; its vapors obscured the tiny sun and streamed ragged across a stand of gaunt, glassy plants. Quite a wind must be blowing out there, though too tenuous for him to hear through the hull. At this time of day, when the hemisphere had warmed, the air—which still didn't amount to much more than a contaminated vacuum— consisted mostly of carbon dioxide, with some methane, ammonia. and nitrogen: not especially breathable. Even Urushkidan couldn't survive those conditions without proper gear. This craft's heating and atmosphere regeneration plants had better be in good working order.

An animal passed across the view in kangaroo-like bounds. While small, it gave him another reason not to want to go outdoors. Ganymedean biochemistry depended on heat-absorbent materials; the thermal radiation of a spacesuited human attracted animals, and carnivores were apt to try eating their way directly to the source.

Kay turned to his companions. "Well," he sighed, "what shall we do now?"

Dyann's eyes lit up. "Hunt monsters?" she suggested.

"Bah!" Urushkidan writhed his way toward the laboratory compartment, where there was a desk. "You do what you like except not to disturb me. I habe an interesting aspect of unified field teory to debelop."

"Look," said Ray. "we've got to take action. If we sit here passive, waiting for the time when we can clean those tubes, we're too bloody likely to be found."

"What do you imagine we can effect?"

"Oh. I don't know. Camouflage, maybe? Damnation, I have to do
something!
"

"I don't, apart from my matematics. Leabe me out of any idiotic schemes you may hatch."

"But if they catch us. we'll be killed!"

"I won't be," said Urushkidan smugly. "I am too baluable."

"You're a, uh, an accessory of ours."

"True. I did get carried away in te excitement. My hope was to aboid habing to waste my genius toiling for a mere engineering project. Tat hope has apparently been disappointed. Well, ten, te logical ting for me to do when te Jobians arribe is to go ahead and complete te dreary ting for tem, so tey will let me go home . . . wit proper payment for my serbices. I trust." The Martian paused. "As for you two. I will try to make it a condition tat your libes be spared. I am, after all, a noble person. I doubt you will eber be set free, but tink how many years you will habe, undistracted, to cultibate philosophical resignation."

Dyann tugged at Ray's sleeve, "Come on," she urged. "Let's hunt monsters."

"Waaah!" Goaded beyond endurance, the Earthman jumped on high—and, in Ganymedean gravity, cracked his pate on the overhead.

"Oh, poor darlin!" Dyann exclaimed, and folded him in an embrace that would have done credit to a bear.

"Let me go!" he raged. "Somebody here better think past the next minute!"

"You really must work on serenity," Urushkidan advised him. "Consider tings from te aspect of eternity. You are only a lower animal. Your fate is of no importance."

"You conceited octopus!"

"Temper, temper." Urushkidan wagged a flexible finger at the man. "Let me remind you why you should heed me. If your reasoning powers are so weak tat you cannot demonstrate
a priori
tat Martians are always right—by definition—ten remember te facts. Martians are beautiful. Martians habe a benerable cibilization. Eben physically, we are superior; I can libe under Eart conditions, but I dare you to try staying alibe under Mars conditions. I double-dog dare you."

"Martians," gritted Ray, "didn't come to Earth. Earthmen came to Mars."

"Of course. We had no reason to bisit you, but you had ebery reason to make pilgrimages to us, hoping tat a little beauty and wisdom would rub off on you. Enough. I am going aft to carry on my research and do not want to be disturbed, except tat when you get te galley going, you may bring me a bite to eat. I can ingest your kind of food, you know. I cannot, howeber, positibely cannot abide te taste of asparagus or truffles. Do not prepare me any dish wit asparagus or truffles." Urushkidan started off along the deck.

"You know, Ray," said Dyann, "I have been thinking, and you are right. Now is not the time to hunt monsters. Let's make love."

"Oh, God!" the human groaned. "If I could get away from you two lunatics, you'd see me exceed the speed of light doing it."

He stiffened where he stood.

"Yes?" asked Dyann.

"Lord, Lord, Lord," he whispered. "That's the answer."

"Yes, tat's right, talk no louder tan tat while I am tinking," Urushkidan said from the after door.

"The drive, the faster-than-light drive—" Ray broke into a war-dance around the cramped compartment, bounding from chairs to aisle and back. "We've got all kinds of scientific supplies and equipment, we've got the Solar System's top authority on the subject, I'm an engineer, everybody knows that the basic effects have been shown in the laboratory and a real drive is just a matter of development— We'll do it ourselves!"

"Not so loud, I told you," Urushkidan grumbled. He passed by the door and slammed it behind him.

BOOK: Captive of the Centaurianess
10.95Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Old Turk's Load by Gregory Gibson
Cut & Run by Traci Hohenstein
Aston's Story (Vanish #2) by Elle Michaels
Desperate and Dateless by Elizabeth Lapthorne
The Five by Robert McCammon