Rebel (18 page)

"But most of the Navy's busy fighting the Teroni Federation," said Lafferty. "Even you pointed that out."

"If there was a serious internal threat, the Republic would end the war so fast it'd make your head spin. They'd give away a third of their territory, including all the outlying worlds like this one, and the war would be over five minutes later. And I suspect you wouldn't be any happier under the Teroni Federation than you are under the Republic."

Harold turned to Lafferty. "Are you
sure
this is the guy the Navy's been trying to kill for the past few years?"

"I'm just being a realist," said Cole. "And if I can talk you out of any suicidal military missions, so much the better."

"The man makes sense," said Lafferty. "We have to soften the Navy up while we're building strength. That's what he's going to do."

"I thought he was talking about the Inner Frontier," said Harold

"He is," said Lafferty. "We have to start somewhere. And they're weaker on the Frontier than anywhere else."

"If he's not recruiting help, and he sure as hell sounds like he isn't, what's he doing in the Republic?"

"Stealing vital military information," said Lafferty. "Now I'm loaning him my ship to get him back to the Frontier."

"You'll never see it again," said Harold.

"I admire your trust and confidence," said Cole dryly.

"You were one of my heroes," said Harold. "But damn it, you sure don't sound like any hero."

"The Navy had their hands on him and he escaped," said Lafferty. "He's still alive, isn't he? That's heroic enough."

Dozhin entered the bar at that moment. "Are you ready to leave yet?"

"Dozhin, can you pilot a ship?" asked Cole.

"Yes," said the alien, surprised. "That's how I
got
to Piccoli III."

Cole turned to Lafferty. "He's the one I want to fly me back to Singapore Station."

"But Harold's my pilot."

"He's not
mine,"
said Cole.

"What the hell," said Lafferty with a shrug. "You want him, you've got him."

"You've only had that ship a year or two," said Harold. "Are you sure you want to trust it with an alien?"

"Shut up," said Cole.

"What?"

"As bad as the Republic's treated you, they've been ten times as hard on the alien races. If someday, decades or centuries from now, you actually mount an army and navy and go to war with them, you're going to need every alien you can find, and they're not going to support your cause if you've neglected them or treated them with the same contempt the Republic shows." He stared coldly at the baker. "Until you learn that, you're not worth fighting for."

"What the hell brought that on?" asked Harold, suddenly all innocence.

"The best officer I ever knew was a Molarian," said Cole. "The Republic tortured him to death a few weeks ago. You'd better prove to me and to the Republic's aliens that you wouldn't do the same thing before you can expect any help from us." He turned to Lafferty. "Let's go."

Cole was in a black mood as he passed through customs. Neither his passport nor his ID roused any suspicions on the part of the Navy inspectors who had to pass on anyone leaving the planet. The mood remained as he entered the ship. Dozhin sensed it and kept silent, even after the ship got its flight plan approved and took off.

There are some decent men and women in the Navy,
Cole thought as he sat silently staring at the viewscreen of the endless waste of space.
And of course there are some assholes among the general population, even among those who are committed to fighting the abuses of the Republic.
He sighed deeply.
But are fools like that what Four Eyes died for, what I threw away my career for, what we're about to risk our lives for?

And because he never lied to himself, he acknowledged that that was precisely who he was fighting for. There were decent people too, literally billions of them, but Cole knew that every time his side took a casualty, they'd be taking it for Harold and people like him, as well as all the nameless people who simply tried to get from one day to the next without causing grief to those they loved.

And since there were so many of those nameless people, he knew they'd accept those casualties and those deaths, and pretend they were taking them solely for the decent and downtrodden members of all the Republic's races. It was a good story, and it made a good rallying point.

Only the Captain of the
Theodore Roosevelt,
he thought grimly, would know better.

"So far, so good," said Cole as they neared the edge of the Republic.

"I keep expecting warships to stop us and question us," admitted Dozhin.

Cole shook his head. "We passed the Navy's inspection. My guess is that the Republic is less concerned with who
leaves
than with who
enters."

"I hadn't thought of it that way," admitted Dozhin. He paused hesitantly for a moment. "May I ask you a question?"

"Go ahead."

"I've never seen any military action. What was it like to take a warship into battle?"

"Very uncertain," answered Cole. "The
Theodore Roosevelt
is almost a century old. It should have been decommissioned seventy years ago, but the Republic keeps fighting wars and it needs all the ships it can get, even cannon fodder like mine."

"But I've heard all about your exploits," protested Dozhin. "You have won four Medals of Courage."

"Three of them were aboard a pair of other ships," said Cole. "I was removed from command of them for insubordination."

"Insubordination?"

"I never believed in blindly following stupid orders when the enemy is shooting at me," said Cole. "As for the fourth medal, I won it for actions performed on the ground, not on the
Teddy R."

"What is the
Teddy R?"
asked Dozhin.

"A diminutive of the
Theodore Roosevelt.
Got any more questions?"

"I'm sorry. Do they bother you?"

"No, they keep me alert. I haven't had any sleep in . . . oh, it must be close to two days now. My species needs it every day."

"Why don't you go to sleep now?" suggested Dozhin. "You've already programmed the navigational computer, and we're on course for this station—Sing-something—that you mentioned."

"You know, I think I'll take you up on that. We'll hit the Nesterenko Wormhole in about two hours, and once we do, we're in the hole for three hours and then it's maybe two more to Singapore Station."

The ship was too small to have private cabins, but a bulkhead opened out to reveal a bunk, and Cole lay down on it. He was asleep in less than a minute.

He was awakened when Dozhin gently shook him by the shoulder.

"Are we there already?" he asked, swinging his feet to the floor.

"No."

"Then why did you wake me?"

"Three Navy ships are tracking us. One of them just ordered us to halt and prepare for inspection. I have a feeling they think we're smuggling some contraband material."

"Why? We're legitimate. We filed a flight plan, we're unarmed, we—"

"I believe Mr. Lafferty has occasionally smuggled in arms from the Frontier aboard this ship," said Dozhin.

"It's a hell of a time to tell me," muttered Cole. He walked over to the main computer. "All right, where are they?"

Dozhin gave a brief command, and the computer cast a holo showing the ships' position. One was directly behind them, the other two were triangulating from the sides.

"What's the ETA for the Nesterenko Wormhole?" asked Cole.

"Seventeen minutes and thirty-six seconds," answered the computer.

Cole grimaced. "We can't keep ahead of them that long, not in this ship."

"Shall we perform evasive maneuvers?" suggested Dozhin.

Cole shook his head. "If it looks like we're even thinking of losing them, they'll blow us apart."

"Then what do we do?" asked the alien.

"We obey their orders and let them board us. They can't know who I am, so hopefully they're just looking for weapons or drugs, and when they don't find either, they'll let us continue on our way."

"Harold would stand and fight," noted Dozhin.

"For a few seconds," agreed Cole. "Then he would fall down and bleed all over the nice clean floor." He looked at the alien. "Bravery without intelligence is probably even less of a survival trait than cowardice without intelligence. Harold did not strike me as a man who uses his brain." He took one more look at the viewscreen. "Computer, signal the nearest ship that we are coming to a stop and have no objection to being boarded. Then wipe all record of our destination from your memory."

"Working. . . done"
announced the computer.

"It is just as well we're not armed," noted Dozhin. "Otherwise we would have to jettison our weapons."

"If those ships are after smugglers, the first thing they're going to notice is anything you jettison," said Cole. "Just relax, let them satisfy themselves that we're not carrying any contraband, and we'll be on our way."

"They will be here in less than two minutes," said Dozhin.

Suddenly Cole tensed.
"Shit!"

"What is it?" asked the alien, startled.

"We're in trouble," said Cole. "I was sleepy. I didn't think it through."

"Think
what
through?"

"Just as they don't care who's leaving, they don't care what kind of contraband we're taking
out
of the Republic," said Cole. "They only care about what's coming
in,
so they're not after drugs or guns at all."

"They couldn't know Wilson Cole is on the ship," said Dozhin.

"I agree," said Cole. He frowned. "Then what
do
they think they're going to find?"

"I don't know."

"Well, we've no time to search for it," said Cole. "And maybe they're just flexing their muscles." He checked the computer. "They'll reach us in another ninety seconds."

"What are we to do?" said Dozhin, panic creeping into his voice.

Cole looked around the ship. There was nothing he could use as a weapon, not against men armed with pulse guns, laser and sonic pistols, and probably wearing body armor. He uttered a quick command to the navigational computer, which blinked an acknowledgment, then turned to the main computer.

"Computer," said Cole, "disable the radio's transmitting mechanism for the next ten minutes."

"Working . . . done"
replied the computer.

"Now we can't even signal for help!" complained Dozhin.

"Three Navy ships are bearing down on us. Who do you think is going to help us?"

"Then what—?"

"Shut up and listen," said Cole. "I haven't got time to argue. When the nearest ship reaches us, it's going to dock next to us, bond the area around the hatch doors, and then open theirs and demand that we open ours."

"How will you know?" asked Dozhin bitterly. "You disabled the radio."

"Only for transmitting, not for receiving," replied Cole. "Now, these are two class-H ships and one class-J. The class-H carries a crew of three; the class-J, seven to ten. Right at the moment they're pretty much equidistant from us. I'm going to maneuver the ship to make sure one of the class-H ships reaches us first."

"Then what?"

"Then, when I give the word, race through the hatch as if your life depended on it, which it will."

"That's
it!'
demanded Dozhin. "That's your entire plan?"

"That's the first step," said Cole. "What do you want on two minutes' notice?"

"Something more than that!"

"Fine," said Cole. "I'm open to suggestions. But make them fast we've only got about twenty seconds left."

"None of this was supposed to happen!" whined Dozhin. "I was just supposed to take you to Singapore Station and come back."

"Follow my orders and you've got a chance of doing just that," said Cole as the ship suddenly shuddered. "We have company," he noted. "They should be bonded to us in another ten seconds. Get over there, just to the side of the hatch."

The alien moved where Cole directed him as the hatch slid open. A moment later two soldiers entered the small ship.

"Name?" said one of them.

"Leslie Ainge," said Cole.

"Home world?"

"Roanoke II."

"Business in the Inner Frontier?"

"My son works on a mining world. I'm going there to visit him

"And the alien?"

"His name is Dozhin. He's my personal servant."

"Let me see your ID."

Cole pulled it out and handed it over.

"We'll run this through our computer. If it checks out, you're free to continue."

"What's the problem?" asked Cole.

"A wanted criminal escaped from Chambon V. We have reason to believe he landed on Piccoli III. We're checking all outgoing flights from there."

"Well, we're certainly not hiding him here," said Cole.

"Perhaps," said the soldier. He turned to his companion. "Check the bulkheads."

The other soldier began examining each bulkhead. Cole made a production of getting out of his way, which put him just a step from the hatch. He faked a seizure of coughing until he was sure the first soldier's eyes were on him. Then he stared into a far corner of the ship. "What the hell is
that
?" he murmured.

The soldier turned to see what he was looking at.

"Now!"
shouted Cole.

Dozhin dove through the hatch and Cole followed half a second later. He knew the structures of all Navy ships, and he hit the Close control as he hurled himself at the one remaining soldier, who was caught by surprise. A blow to the chin, a kick to the groin, and a chop to the neck, and the soldier was unconscious before he could draw his weapons.

"Do you know how to break the bonding?" asked Dozhin.

"You don't get to be a Commander in the Navy unless you know every ship they've got inside out," said Cole. "They didn't change codes in the fifteen years I served. Let's hope they haven't changed 'em in the last few years." He uttered a code, and the ship slid away.

"What now?" asked Dozhin.

"Now we send some brave men to their graves," said Cole with no sense of triumph. "With the transmitter disabled, the men aboard Lafferty's ship won't be able to report what happened. The other two ships don't know anything's wrong, and will assume their companions still control this one. I can't assume that we can outrun them to the wormhole— one of them's a class-J, and it can almost certainly catch us—so the alternative is to fire on them before they know who's in charge of this ship."

"And the two on our ship?"

"The ship's working, and the transmitter will be functional in another seven minutes. They can make their way back to their base."

"What about this one?" asked Dozhin, indicating the unconscious man at his feet.

"Collect his weapons and bring them to me, and then tie him up," ordered Cole. "I'm not going to shoot him or jettison him while he's asleep. We'll just have to play it by ear." He paused. "And now to business. Computer, do either of our two companion ships have their shields up?

"No."

"Aim your pulse canon at the bridge of the farther ship."

"Done."

"On my command, fire and then immediately aim at the bridge of the closer ship and fire again.
Fire!"

A pulse of energy shot out and hit the farther of the two ships. Before the nearer one could raise its defenses, the ship fired again, and less than three seconds after the battle began it was over.

"Remarkable," said Dozhin.

"Fish in a barrel," said Cole with no show of emotion. "Now let's head for the Nesterenko Hole, because the transmitter on Lafferty's ship is going to become operative in a few minutes, and the last thing we need is another confrontation."

"Why not just shoot the ship? It's clear that Lafferty's never going to possess it again."

"Because it's too much like murder," answered Cole. "Maybe we weren't at serious risk, but at least the two ships we killed had weaponry. There's no way in the world the two men stuck in Lafferty's ship can harm us if we just head for the wormhole right now."

Dozhin shot him a look that said he wasn't behaving like a storied military hero, but he kept his silence, and Cole had the computer lay in a course for the Nesterenko Wormhole. They entered it a few minutes later.

"Well, that's that," said Dozhin.

"That was the easy part," replied Cole.

"I do not understand the human sense of humor."

"There's nothing funny about it. We'll be out of the wormhole in another three hours."

"And we'll be safe in the Inner Frontier."

Cole just stared at him. "We will be a lone Republic ship in an area that has sworn to destroy any Republic ship that shows up. I've got a code word, and I'll try to signal any approaching ships with it—but given what we are, there's every possibility that they'll shoot first."

Suddenly Dozhin's stomach began to hurt.