Drifter's Run (19 page)

"Della?"

"Yeah?"

"You be careful out there."

"I will… you too."

The words left a lot unsaid. Thanks to a hardy constitution and the attentions of the robot doctor, Dee's wounds were completely healed. So, while she was free to go, the bounty hunter had chosen to stay aboard. She was short of funds, that's true, but there was something else too, something she and Lando were just starting to explore.

Both were loners by inclination and necessity, slow to enter new relationships, but willing to consider all the possibilities. If asked, both would deny special affection for the other, but the feelings were there, and clear for others to see. Especially Melissa, who felt Dee was taking increasing amounts of Lando's attention, and had few qualms about making her resentment known.

So while Dee continued to refer to Lando as "money in the bank," and he to her as "an Imperial vulture," neither did anything to change the way things were.

As a result Dee had become a de facto member of the crew, earning wages, and waiting to see what would happen.

Having no real ship-related skills, and being a bounty hunter, Dee was the logical choice for her current assignment and had volunteered. Besides, given the fact that they couldn't tell Cap what she was up to, Dee was the only person available.

A buzzer buzzed and an indicator light came on. Dee was outside the ship and climbing aboard her sled. It was loaded with extra fuel and oxygen. Enough to last days if necessary. Her suit would provide everything else.

The comset beeped and a screen came to life. Lando looked up into the perfect features of Jord Willer.

Dee forced herself to wait. Lando had stressed the importance of that. He would pass as close to
Hercules
as he could. Then, for one brief moment the heat and electromagnetic activity generated by both ships would be all jumbled together, and Dee would make her move.

Standing up to peer over the dark curvature of
Junk
's
hull she could see the other tug hurtling toward her. Although neither ship was movinfast their combined speeds amounted to more than a thousand miles an hour.

The space suit felt awkward and heavy as Dee sat down and released the sled's magnetic locks. It smelled funny too, like someone she didn't know, and didn't want to.

The sled was little more than a metal framework with some thrusters, two seats, and room for cargo in the back. All the comforts of home.

Junk
seemed to leap out from under her as the sled floated free. Dee fought to orient herself as IW-67 filled her vision with reflected light. Where was
Hercules?
The damned thing had disappeared. No, wait a minute, there it was. Almost here!

Light winked off the ship's bow as it blocked part of the planet below. She had to leave now while the jumble of heat and electronic emissions would cover her movements.

Dee fired her thrusters and aimed her tiny craft at the ship's broad back. It came up fast, a virtual forest of weapons blisters, beam projectors, and other installations each waiting to rip her apart.

Killing thrust, Dee fired the sled's retros and grit her teeth. Maybe Pik could put the sled down wherever he wanted to but in her case it would be pure luck. Rather than admit her lack of expertise Dee had allowed him to assume more experience than she actually had.

There… if she could only land in that clear space just aft of the central cooling fin… The sled hit with a solid thump that bounced her head off the padding inside her helmet. Damn! The landing must have made a god-awful clang inside the tug's hull. Had anyone heard?

"So," Willer said, "we meet again."

Once again Lando was struck by the cyborg's unnatural beauty. The blond hair, the flawless features, the perfectly modulated voice. He forced a smile.

"Hi, Willer. I guess some things never change. You still look ugly as hell."

"And that's enough of that," Cap said sternly as he dropped into the chair on Lando's right. "Hello, Jord. I apologize for my pilot."

Willer smiled. "Hello, Captain. Apology accepted. One of these days your pilot and I will settle our differences. This is neither the time nor the place. There's a job to do and I suggest we do it."

Cap gave Lando a look that had "I told you so" written all over it, and turned back to the screen.

"I agree. The contract puts you in command. How can we help?"

Lando thought he saw a glint of satisfaction deep in the cyborg's eyes but he could've been wrong. Perhaps it was light reflecting off his artificial pupils.

"Our first task is to join the barges together. It's been my experience that one tow is easier to deal with than two."

Cap nodded his agreement.

"Once that's accomplished," Willer continued, "my ship will take the lead, with
Junk
pushing from behind. Questions?"

"Yeah," Lando answered. "Who's in charge of linking the barges together?"

Light reflected off Willer's teeth. "I'll ask Captain Sorenson to handle that little chore."

Cap swallowed but kept his voice steady. "I'll be glad to."

"Excellent," Willer replied. "Let me know when you're in position." And with that the screen faded to black.

Cap stood and turned to go. Lando touched his arm.

"Don't do it, Cap. The bastard's up to something."

Sorenson pulled his arm away. "Give it a rest, Lando. You heard him. We have a job to do. If we do our part he'll do his. I'll call you from the lock." And with that he walked away.

Lando turned back to his screens. Chances were the other man was right. Chances were everything was fine. And chances were that pigs could fly.

Dee waited five long minutes and heaved a sigh of relief. Maybe the landing was quieter than she thought, or maybe no one had heard, but whatever the case it seemed she was in the clear. Checking to make sure that the sled was securely clamped to the ship's hull, Dee made a place for herself among the extra 0
₂
tanks, and settled down to wait. The suit hummed around her.

"Okay, Lando, I'm on barge one."

Lando could just barely see Cap on high mag. He was standing on what momentarily passed for the top surface of barge one, right next to one of the huge docking clamps.

"That's a rog, Cap. I have you on visual.
Junk
to
Hercules.
Captain Sorenson is in place."

"We copy," Willer's voice came back. "Lock some beams on barge two. Your job is to hold it steady while we push barge one into place."

Lando was soon lost in the task at hand. First there was the need to place
Junk
in the proper position. That required precise use of the big side thrusters and smaller steering jets.

Once the ship was in place the tractor and pressor beams came into play. Lando pushed them out, made contact, and locked on. He was fine-tuning them when Cap's voice came over the comset.

"Lando, watch out! Barge one's coming your way!"

Lando looked up at the starboard vid screen and was horrified. Barge one had come adrift somehow and was moving toward him. It already filled the screen and would hit sometime within the next sixty seconds. The barge was huge, and even though it didn't have much weight, it still packed a lot of inertia. It could crush the tug and keep right on going.

Lando's fingers darted here and there. Beams were severed, thrusters were fired, and
Junk
lurched upward. The ship shuddered and metal groaned as hulls made momentary contact. Then the barge was gone and they were clear.

Now that he had a moment to think, Lando understood Willer's plan. With the ships working so close together the cyborg
knew
Lando would defeat the collision alarms,
knew
he'd be lost in the task before him, and thought the plan would work.

So with Cap riding on top, the cyborg had pushed barge one toward
Junk,
and sat back to watch. If things went well, Cap would not only
see
the destruction, he'd be
part
of it, and still survive to help find the
Star of Empire.

Thank Sol that Cap had been sober and paying attention. The plan had come close to working.

The com screen lit up. It was Willer. His face bore an expression of mock concern. "Nice work, Lando. Sorry about that. One of my people lost control for a moment. No harm done I hope?"

Lando grabbed the armrests to keep his hands from shaking. Cap tried to say something on the suit-to-suit freq but the pilot cut him off.

"Cut the crap, Willer. You tried and failed. Now you pay."

"Oh, really?" Willer sneered. "And what will you do? Shoot at us with one of your popguns? The
Hercules
can match you weapon for weapon and then some."

"True as far as it goes," Lando answered tightly. "But we've got a little surprise for you. Della, give him a demo."

This was the signal Dee had been waiting for. A chance to even the score if only a little. She brought the blast rifle up to her shoulder. A large vid cam filled the sights. She pressed the FIRE button and watched the lance of bright blue energy slice through the camera's flat-black housing.

Two things happened in quick succession. The screen that provided Willer with coverage of the tug's port side went black, and as it did, he activated the ship's protective force field.

Lando laughed. "Nice try, chrome dome, but you've got a flea on your mangy hide, and all the force fields in the world won't help you."

Della dialed the rifle to wide beam and cooked a VHF antenna. It turned cherry-red and drooped like an overcooked noodle.

A buzzer went off and a light flashed red on Willer's control console. He swore a blue streak. Lando had someone on the hull! Someone inside the force field and therefore too close to hit with the tug's armament. Not only that, they were systematically blinding his ship!

Another vid screen dumped to black and Willer smashed his metal hand down and through the surface of the control board.

Sparks flew, something started to burn, and smoke poured into the control room.

Willer's pilot, a somewhat slovenly looking woman with a dope stick dangling from her lower lip, shook her head, but kept her own counsel. She'd never seen the borg this angry before.

"You'll pay for this, Lando! I'll kill her and come for you!"

Lando nodded sympathetically. "Good thinking, space head. Go ahead and suit-up. Della would like that. She's a bounty hunter by profession. You know, the one you shot in the chest, and she wants you
real
bad. Isn't that right, Della?"

Della answered by cooking another vid cam.

Willer screamed his rage and ordered his crew into their suits. "Get out there! Kill her! Do it now!"

No one answered. Willer turned to his pilot and found she wasn't there. The crew had no intention of going one on one with a bounty hunter, especially when she could wait right outside the lock and nail them as they left.

This made the cyborg even more furious. He went on a rampage smashing anything that got in his way and adding to the already extensive damage.

And finally, when fatigue had overcome his rage, Willer found that his ship was blind. Dee had systematically located and destroyed every vid cam, every sensor, and every antenna she could find, leaving nothing but one short-range ship-to-ship com link. The humiliation was almost more than the cyborg could bear. It took him the better part of an hour to make contact.

"You made your point, Lando. This round goes to you. But I'll find you, and when I do, you're dead!"

"I love you too," Lando said easily. "Now listen up. We're going to finish the tow. Kill your force field, place your control systems on standby, and slave your NAVCOMP to ours. We'll take it from there."

And they did. It took longer, and was damned awkward at times, but they did it. With
Junk
performing all the close-quarters maneuvering, and
Hercules
providing brute strength, the cylinders were linked and towed into orbit around Pylax.

In order to keep Willer and his crew from making repairs Dee was forced to ride the ship's hull for most of the trip. It was nerve-wracking sleepless duty, and she was completely exhausted by the time the trip was over, but it was worth it.

Not only had Dee achieved some measure of revenge, she had also proved her worth as a member of
Junk
's
crew, and earned Lando's respect on top of that. Something the bounty hunter didn't even know she wanted until she had it.

By unspoken agreement Cap and Lando never discussed why Dee had taken up a position on the other ship's hull or who was right about Willer.

Both shared a concern that Willer might file charges against them, charges they could refute using tapes of what had transpired, but charges that would immobilize
Junk
for weeks or even months.

Maybe Willer knew he couldn't win a legal battle, or maybe he preferred to have his revenge in other more direct ways, but whatever the reason charges were never filed.

And they never did learn what sort of story Willer concocted for his company. But it didn't matter. What mattered was that the company paid them off,
Junk
was momentarily in the black, and her crew had a reason to party. With that in mind they were gathered on the bridge.

Cap held up his glass of fruit juice. Melissa did likewise, as did Lando and Dee, while Cy prepared to release a tiny amount of alcohol into the nutrient solution around his brain. "To a motley crew, a ship named
Junk,
and the luck that holds them all together!"

They looked at each other, laughed, and repeated in unison: "To a motley crew, a ship named
Junk,
and the luck that holds them all together!"

14

The
Princess Claudia
was one of the largest, most luxurious liners in existence. Rivaled only by her sister ship, the
Prince Alexander,
she had one and only one purpose: to transport the empire's wealthiest passengers from one place to another in absolute luxury. And she was equipped to do the job.

The
Claudia
's
huge drives could take her from one end of the empire to the other at incredible speed. She had backup systems for her backup systems, an empire-class galley, hundreds of luxurious staterooms, and the best crew money could buy.