Lady Lure (2 page)

“Perhaps we should offer to supply the oil,”’
the lieutenant said.

“Heave to?” a quiet, human, and distinctly
masculine voice from the direction of the hatchway said.

Capt. Jyrit and his lieutenant turned as one
at the sound. They and the armaments officer all stiffened into
formal attention as their only passenger came onto the bridge of
the spaceship
Krontar.

“Admiral. Sir.” Behind his impassive exterior
Jyrit found himself wondering if this tall, big-boned man had
insisted on wearing his dark blue uniform jacket and trousers even
when he lay near death on the finest hospital planet in the
Jurisdiction. It seemed entirely possible. Jyrit had known the man
for years and had never seen him out of uniform.

“At ease, gentlefolk.” Admiral of the Fleet
Halvo Gibal squinted at the viewscreen, being careful not to tilt
his head while he sized up the situation. It only took an instant.
At least his eyes were still functioning properly, even if the rest
of his body resisted the demands he made of it each day. There on
the viewscreen before him a ship hung motionless against the
backdrop of inky black space and a few thousand scattered stars.
Their opponent was boldly painted with the green-and-purple design
of a space dragon belching orange flames and the appropriate name,
Space Dragon,
was blazoned on the side, but in comparison to
the
Krontar
the tiny ship looked more like a gnat than a
dragon.

“The captain must be mad,” Halvo said. “No
sane person could possibly believe a warship of the Jurisdiction
Fleet would ever submit to a puny vessel like that one. It’s no
bigger than an ordinary shuttlecraft that’s used to carry
passengers and material from a planet’s surface to a larger
spaceship. And what coward would allow a machine to do his talking
for him?”

“One who doesn’t want his voice remembered
later,” Armaments Officer Dysia murmured. Raising her own voice and
addressing Jyrit, she added, “Captain, the configuration of that
ship is vaguely familiar to me. It may have been altered in an
attempt to disguise its origin. I can check the viewscreen image
against our old computer records and try to find a ship that
roughly compares with this one.”

“Do it.” Jyrit snapped out the order. He was
a Jugarian; thus his antennae were flaring bright red in
indignation at what was happening. It was humiliating to be stopped
by a shot fired across the bow of the
Krontar.
Jyrit’s
personal inclination was to destroy the
Space Dragon
without
discussion. He was under strict orders to conduct Admiral Halvo
Gibal safely to Capital, and he could not afford to take chances
with Halvo’s life. Still, it was Halvo’s right as the ranking
officer of the fleet to issue any orders he wished. Knowing that
Halvo had never run from a battle, Jyrit allowed a note of hope to
creep into his inflections.

“We are nearing the outskirts of the Regulan
Sector, Admiral. Pirates have recently become a serious problem in
this area and all reports say they are growing ever bolder. In my
opinion, they need to be taught a lesson similar to the one we
taught their brothers last year, near Styxia. I will be happy to
destroy that ship if you but concur in the decision, sir.”
Anticipating agreement, Jyrit nodded to Armaments Officer Dysia and
half raised one hand, prepared to give the signal to fire upon the
pirate at Halvo’s assent.

“No.” So easily did Halvo make the decision
that was to change his life forever. Later, he would reflect on
that one little word and wonder if he, rather than the commander of
the pirate vessel, was the one who was mad. “They are too small to
do us any serious harm. We could annihilate them with a single
blast, and they must know it. Therefore, the question to ask
ourselves is, why would so small a ship, traveling alone, accost us
in this outlandish way?”

“Perhaps they have some new weapon we don’t
know about that could blast us out of the sky,” Armaments Officer
Dysia suggested.

“Perhaps. If so, why haven’t they used it or
threatened us with it?” Halvo stared at the image of the ship on
the viewscreen for a moment longer before, without moving his head,
he shifted his glance to Capt. Jyrit. “Aren’t you curious?”

“Curiosity is not a Jugarian trait, admiral,”
Jyrit responded, barely controlling his anger and his desire to
destroy the ship confronting him.

“No,” Halvo said, “but courage and ferocity
in battle are.”

Capt. Jyrit inclined his head in mute
acceptance of the compliment and waited to learn what Halvo wanted
to do.

“During the past year,” Halvo went on, “there
has been precious little to arouse my curiosity. It is aroused now.
Capt. Jyrit, I have a suggestion for dealing with this interruption
in our journey. Since I am curious and you are not, I shall meet
with the leader of the boarding party and attempt to discover what
he wants. Meanwhile, you may keep your weapons trained on the
Space Dragon.
Do not hesitate to fire if they take any
action that threatens the safety of the
Krontar.
Comm
Officer, order a security team to Entrance Hatch Six. With your
permission, Captain,” Halvo added, to appease Jyrit’s sensitive
ego, though he knew the captain would not override his suggestions,
however much he might disapprove of them.

“Sir.” Jyrit was the picture of affronted
Jugarian pride, but as Halvo had guessed, he would not openly
disagree with someone of Halvo’s rank. “You can interrogate them in
the brig. I shall order Security to have the entire boarding party
imprisoned at once.”

“Not at once, Jyrit.” Deliberately, Halvo
used the personal name only, speaking as though the captain were
his friend. That, too, would ease Jyrit’s pride, which must surely
be outraged at having his expressed desires countermanded on his
own bridge. “Let us discover first exactly what it is they want. I
leave the bridge, and the weapons control, in your capable hands,
Jyrit, while I personally greet our unwelcome guests.”

“As you wish, Admiral. Sir.” His tone was
formal and polite, but Jyrit, his antennae glowing, looked after
the departing Halvo in wondering disbelief at the admiral’s
irregular actions.

Halvo himself scarcely knew why he was taking
the trouble to investigate the intrusion upon his homeward voyage.
Perhaps it was because the journey had been so boringly uneventful
or because, once he reached Capital, the planet where the Assembly
and the Jurisdiction government offices were located, Halvo would
be relegated to an administrative position behind a desk for the
rest of his life.

Faced with the prospect of never commanding
his own ship again, let alone the entire Jurisdiction Fleet, Halvo
was bound to view any delay that kept him in outer space for a
while longer as an undisguised blessing. He might even discover an
opportunity to prove himself still capable of handling a
challenging situation, just one last time, before the intrigues and
the rules of Capital enmeshed him forever. It was all he could hope
for at his present stage of life.

Balancing cautiously, moving slowly to avoid
as much of the ever-present pain as possible, Halvo made his way
through the familiar corridors of the Jurisdiction warship, heading
toward Entrance Hatch Six. Capt. Jyrit was certainly efficient.
Half-a-dozen security personnel were waiting for him beside the
hatch.

“The pirate ship has just docked, sir,” said
one of the security team as he caught sight of the slowly
approaching Halvo. “The air lock is being pressurized now.”

A moment later a blinking yellow light
signaled equalization of pressure and the hatch slid open. Between
the
Krontar
and the
Space Dragon
stretched a flexible
passageway that temporarily joined the two ships. Halvo saw that
the entrance to the smaller ship was also open, though there was no
sign of any member of the crew.

“Where is the boarding party we were
promised?” Halvo demanded. He received an immediate response from
the interior of the smaller ship.

“I wish the presence of Admiral Halvo Gibal,”
said the same metallic voice that Halvo had heard while on the
bridge.

“I am Halvo.” He stepped toward the
passageway.

“If you would care to join us aboard the
Space Dragon,”
said the voice, “we would be pleased to
welcome you.”

“It was my understanding that you intended to
board us. Why the change in plans?” Intrigued, Halvo was about to
take another step when he was prevented by the warning of the alert
leader of the security team.

“Sir, let me go first. They haven’t shown
themselves yet. We don’t know who is in there. You are too valuable
to risk your life in an encounter with a pirate.”

“You are mistaken, my friend,” Halvo said.
“My life has no value at all these days, not to the Jurisdiction
Fleet, nor to myself. Not the way I am now. You, on the other hand,
are young and healthy, with a long future ahead of you. I will go
first.”

“Sir, it is my duty—”

“Stay here. That is an order.”

Halvo could almost see the protest forming on
the young man’s lips, and he noted the instant when the obedience
trained into all security personnel took over. The man stepped
back, leaving Halvo’s way clear.

“Aye, sir. Please be careful, sir.”

There was a metal ridge running all around
the far edge of the passageway; it held the flexible material
tightly in place against a docked ship, thus sealing the passage
against the vacuum of outer space. As he stepped onto the
Space
Dragon,
Halvo nearly tripped over the ridge. He caught himself
and straightened to an upright position again. A shaft of pain
surged along his left leg and up his spine. As a result, he entered
the cockpit of the little ship with his mouth compressed into a
tight line and his mood altered from interested curiosity to
distinct irritation. It did not help matters when he saw what
awaited him in the cockpit.

“I did not come here to speak to an ALF,”
Halvo muttered. Preparing to turn around and leave, he unwisely
shifted his weight to his left leg. Once more he was assaulted by
pain, and the dizziness came upon him, making his surroundings
appear to spin. Closing his eyes, he paused to grit his teeth and
gather his strength before making the effort to lift his foot over
that cursed ridge a second time as he got out of the pirate
ship.

“I am but an emissary,” the robot sitting at
the controls said. “Nor am I, precisely speaking, an Artificial
Life Form.”

Halvo opened his eyes again to discover the
robot looking at him, if looking was the right word, through two
pale blue lights set into its spherical head of gray metal at the
approximate place where eyes ought to be in a human head.

Mercifully, the cockpit and the passageway
just outside it had stopped whirling. Reluctant to cause any
further disturbance to his inner ear and his sense of balance,
Halvo did not move.

The robot continued to stare at him, its blue
lights blinking, until Halvo felt compelled to respond to the
remarks it had made.

“It is my understanding that robots always
speak precisely.” Halvo growled the words out of his own malaise
and frustration with his physical inadequacies. “Therefore, I
expect you to explain to me at once precisely why this minuscule
ship should attempt to bar the
Krontar’s
way. Then you can
tell me what you want with me.”

There was another life form aboard the ship.
Halvo was aware of a movement off to one side of the cockpit, but
he did not dare turn his head to check on it lest the dizziness
return and disable him completely. Instead, he continued to stare
at the robot until a figure glided into full view.

“Greetings, Admiral.” From its appearance,
this life form was humanoid. Whether it was actually a human being
was difficult to tell at the moment, because the form was encased
in a silvery suit of the kind used when performing extravehicular
repairs in outer space and the head was covered by an oval-shaped
helmet equipped with a gleaming black faceplate. There was no way
for Halvo to discern who – or what – was behind that black surface.
The voice was muted and distorted beyond easy identification. There
was no question, however, about the weapon now trained upon him.
“How convenient to have you greet us in person since you are just
the man we wanted to see.”

“I am deeply flattered.” The drugs he had
been using recently to ease his pain had dulled Halvo’s physical
reflexes. And, apparently, they had also slowed his wits. How could
he have allowed his curiosity to override all security precautions?
He should have told Jyrit to go ahead and blow the
Space
Dragon
to bits as the sensible Jugarian had wanted to do. Now
it was too late. For just an instant Halvo could hear the outraged
exclamations of the security team. Then the hatch of the
Space
Dragon
clanged shut behind him, cutting off both sound and his
return path to the
Krontar.

“Damnation,” Halvo muttered, bitterly
regretting that his own common sense was only now awakening. He
knew what was coming before the creature in the silvery space suit
motioned him to a bench at one side of the cockpit. Halvo snarled
his response to the gesture. “Whoever you are, I regret that I
cannot cooperate with you.”

“Would you rather die?” the distorted voice
asked.

“I think I would,” Halvo said with perfect
honesty. “However, I do not believe your intent is to kill me. If
it were, I would be dead by now.”

“You are partially correct, admiral. You will
not die just yet, unless you misbehave.”

“If you are thinking of ransom, forget it. I
am of no use to anyone these days,” Halvo said, adding in a low
whisper, “least of all to myself.”

“I have not taken you for ransom. Lie down on
that bench and strap yourself in.”