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Authors: Mike Resnick

BOOK: Mutiny
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"It sounds good, Wilson, but just what the hell do you think a shuttle can do against a fully armed Bortellite ship?"

"Talk to it. Find out why it's here, if it's alone, what its plans are. Bluff it if I have to."

"I hear a lot of ifs."

"Would you prefer maybes?"

"Do you
have
to do this your very first day on the job?"

"I'm not the one who ordered the Bortellite ship to go to Rapunzel, and I'm not the one who spotted it," said Cole. His voice hardened. "But I'm the one who ordered a computer update on our friends and foes, or we wouldn't know it
was
an enemy ship. Fujiama should do that every week."

Sharon sighed. "Okay, Wilson. I'll let you know when he wakes up."

Cole broke the connection, then left the bathroom and walked onto the bridge again.

"Pilot, how long before the Bortellite ship is within range of our weaponry?"

"Five hours and seven minutes at maximum speed, sir," said the Pilot.

"Rachel, will you need any help with the weapons?"

"I don't know, sir. I don't think so."

"Lieutenant Mboya?"

"Yes, sir?"

"If Ensign Marcos requests the presence of any gunnery personnel, they are permitted to come onto the bridge. Beyond that, this bridge is now closed to all personnel below the rank of commander. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir."

He raised Security on the ship's computer.

"Hi, Sharon. It's me again. The three gunnery sergeants I met earlier when I was inspecting the ship—are they just the white-shift sergeants, or are they all we've got?"

"Since the last rotation, they're three of the four that we've got," replied Sharon Blacksmith.

"Is the fourth on red or blue shift?"

"Let me check. . . . He's on red."

"So there's no one there now?"

"That's right."

"Check on the four. If any two are awake, have them report for duty. If three or four are asleep, wake them at random. I want two of them down there in an hour's time, and I want two on the red shift. One of the blue shifters will take white shift. Do we have a personnel officer?"

"Not at the moment."

"Then I'm appointing you temporary Personnel Officer," said Cole. "Find two qualified crew members and transfer them to gunnery duties."

"From where?"

"From any duty that won't be vital if that Bortellite ship has entered the Rim with what we call bad intentions."

"You understand that either Mount Fuji or Podok is going to cancel your orders the moment they're made aware of them, don't you?"

"Then let's see if we can find out just how bad its intentions are before the end of blue shift," said Cole. "It's always possible they were headed there before Bortel II joined the Teroni Federation. It's possible that it's simply an unarmed merchant ship. But it's also possible that it's here to cause trouble—and if it is, let's encourage it to take a shot at us before my orders can be countermanded."

"I still like you, Wilson," said Sharon, "but I wouldn't want to bet the family jewels that you'll still have your commission tomorrow."

"Maybe I'll get lucky and they'll bust me all the way down to civilian," said Cole with a smile. "But in the meantime, though it's easy to forget it out here, we're at war, and these guys have just joined the other side."

He broke the connection, then walked over and stood beneath the Bdxeni's pod.

"Pilot," he said, "if this Bortellite ship should prove hostile, how quickly can our ship respond to your orders for evasive maneuvers?"

"With the speed of thought, sir," replied the Bdxeni.

"You're sure?" persisted Cole. "If there's any lag time at all, I can contact them from a safe distance, maybe try a bluff or two."

"There will be no lag time," Wxakgini assured him. "Newer ships may be more responsive, but the problem will not be with the transmission and reception of commands."

"All right," said Cole. "If I order you to take evasive action, I want that order carried out instantly—but under no circumstance, even if we are fired upon, do I want you to anticipate my order. Is that clear?"

"My first duty is not to any officer, but to the ship," responded Wxakgini.

"This ship has screens and shields and half a dozen other defenses against attack," said Cole. "They may not be as efficient as those the newer ships possess, but we're not looking at an enemy fleet here. We can handle anything the Bortellite ship can throw at us for at least ninety seconds, probably longer."

"Agreed. I will not respond without orders until I feel my defenses weakening."

" Your
defenses?"

"When I am connected to the computer, it is very difficult to separate the ship from myself," said the Bdxeni. "I am sorry if my answer was confusing."

They raced across the edge of the Rim for the next few hours, quietly preparing for whatever awaited them. Cole checked every hour to make sure Fujiama and Podok were still asleep, made a trip to the gunnery area to confirm that the weapons were operative, stopped by the mess hall for more coffee, and spent the rest of his time studying computer simulations of the various merchant, passenger, and military ships of Bortel II.

Finally the pilot informed Cole that they were within firing range.

Cole walked over to Rachel. "Get ready, just in case," he said. Then, to Wxakgini: "Is the ship still on the ground?"

"Yes."

"Can you get me an image of it?"

"From this distance? No, sir, I can't."

"How soon can you?"

"Another six or seven minutes, sir."

"Will it be light enough?"

"The planet has a twenty-two-hour rotation period, sir. The ship will be in daylight for six more hours."

"Throw it up on every screen on the bridge as soon as you can."

"Yes, sir."

Five minutes later Cole's pocket computer informed him that he had a written message waiting for him.

"Written?" repeated Cole, frowning. "That is correct," responded the computer. "Let me see it."

Small lines of type appeared in the air and vanished as quickly as Cole read them:

I figure you don't want to share this little tidbit until you have to, so I'm writing it. Fujiama is awake. He's in the bathroom now, taking a shower. It'll probably be five minutes before he finishes, dries himself, and comes back into his room. Give him another minute or two to dress, and then he's going to request his daily briefing. I'm going to have to tell him that we're twenty-eight light-years from where we're supposed to be, and closing in on a potential enemy. He's got enough other sources so that even if I lied, he'd know the truth half a minute later. So unless you think he's going to back you up, you've got maybe six or seven minutes to do whatever you're going to do.

Sharon

Cole deactivated his pocket computer and turned back to the pilot. "How about that image?" he demanded.

"It's coming through now, sir," replied the Bdxeni. Suddenly the image of a sleek golden ship appeared on every screen. "That's no merchant ship," said Cole. "It's one of their newer warships, with a crew of three hundred and weaponry that makes ours look like so many slingshots." He checked the chronometer on one of the screens. He had at most five minutes before Fujiama learned what had happened and where they were, and probably another thirty seconds before the captain took over command. Fujiama would take one look at the golden ship, realize that the
Teddy R
was no match for it, and retreat to his original position while sending a message to headquarters requesting help that would never come, because the Republic's military was stretched too thin already. There was only one way to ascertain the intentions of the Bortellite ship and crew without endangering the
Teddy R,
and Cole, aware of his constricting time frame, acted promptly.

"Pilot, shear away as gently as you can and take up a holding pattern. Ensign Marcos, remain at your station until relieved. Lieutenant Mboya, come with me on the double."

He walked swiftly to the airlift. Even before he reached it he was in contact with Forrice.

"What is it?" asked the Molarian.

"Is there protective gear on the shuttles? And weapons?"

"Yes."

"Meet us down there," said Cole. "You've got ninety seconds."

Cole and Mboya got off at the shuttle level and ran to the closest one. Forrice, coming from a different airlift, arrived a few seconds later.

"What's going on?" demanded the Molarian.

"Later," said Cole, entering the craft. "Break the bond holding us to the ship and get us the hell away from here." He turned to Mboya. "Lieutenant, deactivate the radio. Pull a chip or a bubble, snip a wire, do something that we can repair later but that will let me truthfully say that I could neither send nor receive prior to reaching Rapunzel."

She fell to work instantly, and seconds later the shuttle pulled away from the
Teddy R.

"Head toward Rapunzel," Cole ordered the Molarian.

"Do you want me to land the
Kermit
in any particular place?" asked Forrice.

"What the hell's the
Kermit
?" asked Cole.

"We're in it," interjected Christine, triumphantly holding up a fuse from the subspace radio. "The shuttles are named after four of Theodore Roosevelt's children—Kermit, Archie, Quentin, and Alice."

"Fine," said Cole distractedly. "Locate the Bortellite ship and request permission to land at the same location. They're a Republic world, we're a military vessel, there shouldn't be any problem."

"He can't request anything," said Christine, holding up the fuse. "Remember?"

"Shit!" said Cole. "We can't land without coordinates. All right, Lieutenant—put the fuse back when we're ready to enter the Bastoigne system."

"Then what?" said Forrice.

"Then hope the
Teddy R
doesn't blow us out of the ether before we land, and that the Bortellites don't kill us before we take off again."

 

"Sir, we're going to have to break radio silence," said Christine, who was seated at the communications station. "The spaceport is asking us lo identify ourselves."

"Don't answer yet," said Cole.

"But sir—"

"It would be nice if Rapunzel controls its own spaceport—but our sole reason for coming here is the possibility that the Bortellites are in charge. There's no sense letting them know we're a Republic shuttle." He lowered his head in thought for a moment, then looked up. "Four Eyes, how do you say 'Kermit' in Molarian?"

"We don't."

"But
if
you did ..."

Forrice considered the word, then uttered something that seemed halfway between a cough and a grunt.

"That'll do. Lieutenant, insert the fuse and get the radio working. Then turn it over to Four Eyes, who will tell them we're the
Kermit—
but he'll tell them in his own language."

"They probably won't have anyone there who can speak it," said Forrice, inserting a tiny receiver into his left ear.

"I'm counting on it," said Cole. "The
Teddy R
will almost certainly be monitoring our transmission, so explain why we're here. There are three more Molarians aboard; Fujiama may not speak your lingo, but he'll know what it is and call in one of the Molarians while you're buying us time with the spaceport."

"What if the spaceport fires on us anyway?" asked Christine.

"If the locals are still in charge, they're only going to fire on an enemy. This is a Republic world; we're a Republic ship."

"But what if the locals
aren't
in charge?" she persisted. "What if the Bortellites have taken over?"

"That's why we're here, isn't it?" responded Cole. "To find out what's going on. One way is to have them try to blow us apart."

"If it's all the same to you, sir, I hope they don't," said Christine.

"I hope so, too. I know it's going to come as a surprise to you, Lieutenant, or perhaps a disappointment, but I really don't like being shot at."

Forrice, who had been speaking softly on the radio, looked up. "Well, it's going to take them a few hours to figure out what I said— but nobody's shooting. Yet."

"And you explained our situation to the
Teddy R ?"

"Yes. Of course, I've no idea if they heard it."

"They heard it, all right," said Cole. "And they've already translated it."

"How can you be so sure?" asked Forrice.

"Because now that they know our radio's functional, they'd be ordering us to get the hell out of here if they
hadn't
gotten the message."

"Makes sense, at that," agreed Forrice.

"No it doesn't," said Christine. "Are you saying that Captain Fujiama
wants
us to land on Rapunzel?"

"Of course not," responded Cole. "But he doesn't want us blown to bits either, and he's afraid that if he contacts us or identifies us in any way, that's what will happen."

"I know Wilson Cole better than you do, Lieutenant," said Forrice. "I wouldn't put it past him to get us in a situation where our lives depend on Mount Fuji doing the right thing whether he wants to or not."

"Is this the way you did it before?" asked Christine.

"I've never landed on Rapunzel before," replied Cole noncommittally.

"You know what I mean, sir."

"I have absolutely no idea what you mean, Lieutenant," said Cole.

"I hate to interrupt all these earnest denials," said Forrice, "but they're requesting more information."

"Give it to them—in Molarian."

Forrice uttered two sentences in his native tongue, waited for a response, then turned to Cole.

"They won't let us land until we get someone who speaks or can transmit in Terran."

"What a shame," said Cole. "I guess we'll just have to land elsewhere."

"On Rapunzel?"

"Do you see any other oxygen world around here?"

"You never intended to land at the spaceport, did you?" demanded Christine.

"Well, if they'd had a Molarian handy, I wouldn't have had much choice, would I?" said Cole. "Four Eyes, what's the biggest city on the nightside?"

Forrice checked his computer, then looked up. "There's a city of about two hundred thousand." He paused. "It's called Pinocchio. Does that mean anything to you?"

"Yeah," said Cole. "It means whoever mapped this planet read too many fairy tales as a kid."

"May I ask why we aren't landing at the spaceport, sir?" asked (Christine.

"Just adapting to the situation," answered Cole. "The Bortellites may have parked that warship at the spaceport, but they didn't leave it empty—not something that valuable and powerful. They'll be feeling vulnerable on the ground, so they'll have all its scanners and sensors activated. That means they know we're here."

"All right, they know we're here," she said, wondering what he was getting at.

"We're at war," continued Cole. "And they've landed on Republic territory."

Christine frowned in puzzlement. "So?"

"So they're not firing at us. What does that imply to you, Lieutenant?"

"They don't want to get into a shooting war?" she asked, confused.

"We've been in a shooting war for years."

"Then I don't see what you're getting at, sir."

"The fact that they didn't try to shoot us down means they don't mind if we land at the spaceport. I can't think of a better reason
not
to land there. Let's orbit the planet and see if we can spot whatever it is they
don't
want us to see."

"What makes you think there
is
something, sir?"

"They're here, and their ship is intact. You don't put down on an enemy planet for supplies or repairs. You do it with a military objective in mind. Right now, the only thing we know is that the military objective isn't in the vicinity of the spaceport, so let's go looking for it."

"And you think it might be in Pinocchio?" asked Forrice.

"I doubt it like all hell," replied Cole. "This is a Republic world. You've got to figure
someone
in Pinocchio would find some way to let us know about it. You can buy off or intimidate a lot of people, but not all of them."

"Just what is it that we're looking for, sir?" asked Christine.

"Beats the hell out of me, Lieutenant," admitted Cole. "But whatever it is, we'll find it. Half the trick in finding clues is knowing that they're there—and we know that an enemy warship is sitting on Rapunzel and that it's practically inviting us to land at the spaceport."

"They didn't land that many hours ahead of us," said Forrice. "Maybe they haven't set anything up yet."

"This isn't their first trip there," said Cole with certainty. "Or at least they're not the first Teroni Federation ship to land on Rapunzel."

"That's an awfully far-fetched conclusion," said Forrice.

"It's an obvious conclusion," said Cole. "At the risk of being repetitious, they didn't fire on us. If they hadn't dispersed their men and equipment yet, if everything was still at the spaceport and vulnerable to an attack, we'd be dodging laser and pulse fire right now."

"Well, at least we're free to go where we want. The Bortellites aren't going to say 'Don't look there' and the
Teddy R's
not going to say a thing." Forrice displayed the Molarian equivalent of a grin. "You'd almost think someone planned it that way."

"Do you think you might pay a little attention to your navigation?" said Cole.

"What should I be doing, sir?" asked Christine.

"Rapunzel isn't worth conquering. The Teroni couldn't defend it, not out here on the Rim with Republic worlds all around it—and they obviously haven't destroyed it. What does that imply to you?"

"That Rapunzel has something they want, something they think they can take with the crew of a single ship."

"Very good, Lieutenant," said Cole. "What do you suppose that is?"

"A man, perhaps? A political leader or a scientist?"

Cole shook his head. "If they wanted a man, they'd have killed him and left, or captured him and left."

"They're only a few hours ahead of us," noted Forrice.

"If they came here for a man, they knew where he was before they touched down," said Cole. "They've got shuttles that are probably faster than this one. Believe me, they'd have found him by now."

"So that leaves ... I don't know, something native to the planet," said Christine.

"We can do better than that, Lieutenant. Have the computer run a check and see just what's on or in Rapunzel that would be valuable to a military machine. It could be anything from diamonds to fissionable materials to other elements they use in their weapons systems. Then, when you've found a few things that seem to be worth the trip and the risk, match them against what's available in the Bortellite system. There's no sense coming here for plutonium, for example, if they've got it at home or right next door. Once you narrow it down, we'll know what they're here for and where to find them."

"And then what, sir?"

"Then we'll decide what to do," answered Cole. "There's not much sense having a plan before you know what you're facing."

"You're facing the bad guys," said Forrice. "What else do you have to know?"

"Do they have hostages? Can the
Teddy R
get here before they find what they're after? Are the people their willing accomplices or their enemies? What kind of firepower did they bring with them from the ship?" Cole paused. "There have to be a dozen more considerations. You want me to enumerate them?"

"I'll let you off the hook this one time," said Forrice, flashing another alien grin.

"Thanks for small favors," said Cole. "Now do me a large favor and tell me how long it'll be before we're over Pinocchio."

"We're sublight, but we're still above the stratosphere. I can get us there in thirty seconds."

"Once we've over it, match velocities with the planet and enter the atmosphere."

"The atmosphere, not just the stratosphere?"

"Right," said Cole. "It's night, and they'll see our heat shields glowing. Stay over the city until we're dark again, and then get the hell away from it, any direction you choose."

"I assume there's a reason for this?" asked Forrice.

"The warship knows we're here, so it's doubtless alerted that portion of the crew that's left it," explained Cole. "But since it can't see through or around the planet, it doesn't know exactly where we are now that we're on the nightside. Once we're seen over Pinocchio, someone there is going to report it, the ship will monitor the transmission and pass the word that we're interested in Pinocchio, and the crew, wherever they are, will be just a little more secure and a little less alert."

"You hope," said Forrice as the
Kermit
plunged through the stratosphere and into the atmosphere.

"I hope," agreed Cole.

They could see the lights of Pinocchio on their viewscreens. It didn't look that impressive, but two hundred thousand was actually a big city for a colony world, especially one out on the Galactic Rim.

"The heat shields are back to normal," announced Forrice. "Which way?"

"Indulge yourself," said Cole. "It doesn't make any difference until Lieutenant Mboya comes up with the information we need."

"I'm working on it," said Christine. "So far I haven't found anything worth coming here for—no fissionable materials, nothing worth mining, no rare earths. Hell, I can't even find much iron on the planet."

"They didn't come here so they could load a very expensive warship down with iron ore to take home and smelt. Keep searching."

"What direction are we heading?" she asked without looking up from the computer.

"Southwest," answered Forrice. "Do you want degrees, minutes, and seconds?"

"Southwest?" she repeated. "Just altitude."

"About fifteen thousand feet."

"Not enough," she said. "Get up above thirty thousand."

"What's up ahead?" asked Forrice, adjusting their altitude.

"A mountain range."

"Anything else to the southwest?" asked Cole.

"Not according to the computer," she answered. "It looks unpopulated, rather than underpopulated."

"That makes sense," said Forrice. "You can't grow anything in the mountains."

"We're over them right now," said Christine. "We're not picking up anything—no rare metals, no fissionable materials, nothing. Just as well. It's a young range with a lot of volcanoes; quite a few of them are due to blow their tops any day now. I'd hate to be a miner stationed there."

They continued for another half hour. Then Forrice spoke up. "We haven't seen a thing. You want me to stay on this course?"

Cole didn't answer.

"Hey, Hero," said the Molarian. "Are you awake?"

"I'm awake."

"You want me to change course?"

No answer.

"Are you all right?" asked Forrice.

"Be quiet for a minute. I'm thinking."

Forrice immediately fell silent and concentrated on his navigation, while Christine continued studying her computer, looking for something—
anything
—that could have drawn the Bortellites to Rapunzel.

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