Starhold (26 page)

“Even so,” said Pettigrew, “we have time to take on that big ship while she’s alone. At their accelerated speeds, it will still take the enemy fleet something like eight hours to work their way back to Earth.”

David Swoboda swiveled his chair around to face Pettigrew. “I just had a disturbing thought, Captain. What if they double-jump?”

Vessels moved through systems using their ion drives. Using hyperdrive to travel within a star system was considered so dangerous it was never done. ‘Double-jumping’ involved jumping to a point outside a star system and then back in to cover long distances.

“They’d still need a few hours between jumps to build up energy for that second jump,” said Adams.

“That’s if their engines work the way ours do,” Swoboda pointed out.

Pettigrew shook his head, trying to focus on what they needed to do. “We can’t do anything about those other ships right now. I want you two to pour over all the data we have on that big ship near Earth. Right now, that’s our priority. Find me a weakness.”

TF 19 was down to six functioning warships, the crippled destroyer
Bocsor
, and the two tankers still plodding along toward Jupiter. Evidently, the captain of the enemy titan wasn’t going to initiate an engagement. All the enemy need do was to wait for the rest of their force to return from Saturn and then those ships could finish off what remained of the Union fleet.

Maybe Parker Knox was right. Perhaps it would be a hopeless battle, one that needed to be avoided. If Adams and Swoboda couldn’t find a weakness in the enemy titan and find it soon, Pettigrew could order his ships to make for Jupiter, refuel at the tankers, and get the hell out of Sol. However, it might even be too late for that. The enemy ships were fast and could possibly outrace them to Jupiter. There were also the three crescent-shaped vessels standing watch at the enemy shipyard to consider. With their shield technology, those three warships alone might be able to defeat what was left of his force.
Those damn shields. There must be some way around them…

Pettigrew tapped his comm control. “Commander Mullenhoff.”

“Mullenhoff here.”

“Commander, you’re needed on the bridge.”

27: Susan

Bakkoa, Earth

“Don’t worry, my Lord Governor, we’ll find them,” said the green uniformed officer confidently.

“I’m not the one who should be worried, Superintendent,” Sheel snapped.

The governor of Bakkoa climbed into his glidecar limo parked in front of the Security Dome. It was coming up on eight o’clock in the evening and he still hadn’t eaten dinner yet, but hunger wasn’t on his mind.

What had started as a promising day was deteriorating by the hour. The two Sarissan prisoners had been lost, and no one had heard from his police spy, Corporal Kees. Naar’s plan for locating the alien craft had seemingly gone awry. Additionally, Fleetmaster Haldryn had yet to eliminate the enemy force which had intruded upon the Sol star system—his star system.

Sheel turned to the other limousine passenger. “The Superintendent assures me that the missing prisoners and their ship will be found,” the Lord Governor said in his most sarcastic tone, which was considerable. “I am to be comforted by this.”

“I’m sure the Superintendent and his people know what they are doing.”

“If they knew what they were doing, they wouldn’t have lost Carr and the woman in the first place!” Sheel was in a foul mood and didn’t want to hear the false comfort of platitudes. “And speaking of knowing, Goran, just exactly what do
you
know?”

The Deputy Governor’s face reddened for a split second as Sheel vented his frustrations. “My Lord Governor? I don’t take your meaning.”

Sheel leaned his head back and took a deep breath as the limousine moved toward the Government Compound. “Goran, I am angry and irritated. My apologies for snapping at you.”

“No apologies are necessary, my Lord.”

“Although,” the Governor said in a lighter, almost playful voice, “I often wonder exactly how much you really do know. Goran the Efficient. Goran the Reliable. Goran the Trustworthy. Always on the spot and always prepared. It gives me pause to ask myself exactly how much you actually do know about the things going on around you.” Sheel gave the younger man a predatory smile.

“My Lord Governor, I can assure you that I make it my business to know exactly what I need to—no more and no less.”

Sheel did not reply, but closed his eyes for the remainder of the ride up the hill. In some regard, Goran reminded him of his younger self, which was somewhat troubling. Right now however, he had far more to fear from Fleetmaster Haldryn than from Goran. No, the Deputy Governor was the least of his problems.
Nevertheless, I won’t be asking him to pour me a glass of wine anytime in the near future…

* * * *

“This will relieve some of her pain,” said Vesna as the injector forced medicine into Mumphrey’s blood system. Korab’s wife withdrew the instrument and used a washcloth to pat the moisture off the wounded woman’s forehead. “Keep pressure on the wound. I’ll get some more clean towels and check about the doctor.”

Blood continued to ooze from the hole Sandu had put in Mumphrey’s shoulder. The older woman was losing the red fluid at an alarming rate. She had been taken to a bedroom where Vesna and Sanchez had done what they could, applying wound sealant and bandaging from a medical kit. It had slowed, but not stopped the flow. Sanchez knelt next to her holding a towel to the wound, a towel that was gradually turning red like all the others before it.

“Hang in there, Inspector,” said Sanchez, trying to talk about anything to keep the older woman calm and still. “Korab will have a doctor here shortly.”

Mumphrey smiled, but just barely, as the color slowly drained from her face.

Sanchez continued to force conversation. “This is all Carr’s fault. He should have known to tell Korab about your discovery in private, that the traitor could have been standing right in front of us. I have to say though, I didn’t figure on Sandu. My money was on Voss.”

“Voss isn’t what he seems,” said Mumphrey. “All bark and no bite. And don’t be too hard on Carr, he has his own problems.”

Sanchez muttered unhappily. “He’s had his head up his ass this entire mission, like he can’t concentrate. Something’s going on, but I can’t get him to talk about it.”

Mumphrey started to cough and Sanchez quickly used her free hand to give the woman some water from a drinking glass on the night table.

“Thank you,” said the Inspector, as Sanchez withdrew the glass from her lips. “Back on Sarissa, I discovered that Carr is dealing with some serious personal issues.”

“I knew something was up. Gambling debts? Being pursued by a jealous husband, something like that?” asked Sanchez, only partly joking.

“I’m afraid it’s much worse,” said Mumphrey in a low voice. “His wife is dying.”

Sanchez stared at Mumphrey as if she hadn’t heard her correctly. “His wife? He’s married?” The commander remembered back to the first day she met Carr and Director Tolbert asking him about someone named Shannon. “I’m so sorry to hear that. What’s wrong with her? And why would he come on a long mission like this if his wife was ill?”

Mumphrey grimaced in pain as Sanchez switched out the blood-soaked towel for a clean one. “The way I understand it, she was with a terraforming crew on Uritski and she contracted some illness—my sources were sketchy on the details. Anyway, now she’s in a private hospital getting long-term care, but that’s expensive. You OMI types earn considerably more money than us poor civil servants in State Security, especially when you do field work.” Mumphrey tried to laugh, but winced instead. “He needs the money to pay her medical bills. Etta, could I have another blanket, dear? It’s getting so cold.”

* * * *

The stocky man sat cross-legged on the floor, elbows on knees with his face buried in his hands. If he noticed Carr entering the processing plant garage, he didn’t let on. Korab had returned to the place where his brother’s treachery had been uncovered, trying to sort through it all.

The leader of the Underground lifted his head. “How’s Voss?”

“Better,” replied Carr, who sat down on the floor beside his host. “The charge hit flesh, but no bone. I cleaned up the wound and bandaged him. He’ll be hobbling for a while, but all in all, he got off lucky.”

“And Mumphrey?”

“Not so lucky. They can’t stop the bleeding.”

Korab ran a hand through his curly hair. “I got in touch with Denlora. She and her crew are comin’ here. She’ll fetch a doctor as soon as she can, but with the police out in full force lookin’ for you, it could take time. They’ll have to move carefully.”

“I know.” Carr sat quietly for a moment. “What did you do with your brother?”

The Bakkoan grunted. “Not my brother—not no longer. Looks like he never was. I locked him in the cooler with that Kees fellow. They won’t freeze, but they’ll both be damned uncomfortable.”

“What will happen to him?”

“If he and Lornec had blown up the Government Compound, my family and me and everyone else in the Underground would have been rounded up and executed. He’d have seen us all dead for a bag of money. He’d have killed my wife and my children—my children, Carr!” Korab pounded his fist to the floor. “When the others find out, they’ll demand he be executed as a traitor. I couldn’t protect him now if I wanted to, and I don’t!”

Carr looked straight ahead. He sympathized with Korab, but time was slipping by. Somehow, he and Sanchez had to get back to
Kite
and get into space—tonight.

“What about Lornec? Will he run to the authorities?”

Korab snorted a laugh. “Not likely. They’d probably kill him for botchin’ the job. He’s got a cousin who runs a farm outside the settlement. I figure he’s hightailed it there to hide.”

The two men stood up. “Before I was a butcher, I was an ordinance man in the military for a spell. I checked out that bomb you and Mumphrey found—very nasty. That thing could take out a whole city block, and then some.”

Carr’s eyes narrowed in thought. “Any danger that Haldryn’s people could set it off remotely?”

“Not right now, I disabled it. ‘Course, you can set it off remotely, ‘cause that was their plan for the Government Compound.”

As they walked together out of the garage, Korab stopped. “Look, Carr, my people are all comin’ in now. We’re movin’ to our emergency site to hole up till we see how everything plays out. If you still want to go, Denlora and her squad will get you and Sanchez to your ship tonight. We’ll take Mumphrey with us and try to help her as much as we can, but I have to tell ya’, my first duty right now is to my family’s safety.”

“As it should be. Thank you for everything, Korab, and I wish you all the best.” The two men shook hands. They had only known each other for one day, but it felt like two old friends saying goodbye.

Korab moved to the task of relocating his family and friends to safety and Carr went to the room where Mumphrey was being cared for. Passing Korab’s wife in the hallway Vesna said nothing but shook her head in a dispirited manner.

Entering the room, he found Mumphrey barely conscious. Her skin was pale, and she was shivering. Sanchez sat on the other side of the bed, pressing a bloody towel to the Inspector’s shoulder with her right hand and holding Mumphrey’s hand with her left. She looked up at Carr as he entered, her eyes telling him everything he needed to know.

Pulling up a chair on the older woman’s right, he took her free hand in his and mustered up a broad smile. Mumphrey’s eyes slid slowly over to him.

“You look like you could use a shave,” said Mumphrey weakly.

Carr rubbed his hand across the stubble on the top of his head. “Yeah, I do, don’t I?”

He and Sanchez laughed and Mumphrey grinned, her attention fading in and out.

“You know,” said Carr, “it occurs to me that we don’t even know your first name, Inspector.”

A pleased look spread across her face. “Susan. My name is Susan.”

“Well, Susan, just try to hang in there a little more. Korab says a doctor is on the way.”

Sanchez picked up the rally cry. “That’s right, Susan, after we get you patched up, Korab’s people will take us to
Kite.
We’ll get you up to a Union warship, and then we’ll all head for home.”

Mumphrey looked at Sanchez, then back at Carr. “I’d like that,” she said wearily. “Have either of you ever been to Arethusa? It’s a lovely moon. You know, before they transferred me to Sarissa, I’d never been off Arethusa in my entire life. Now look at me—I’m on Earth.” She paused for a moment, trying to gather strength. “The funny thing is I’m not all that impressed with it. When we were children, we were always taught how beautiful Old Earth was, but I don’t think it’s even close to Arethusa. The broad steppes of manna grass and the stands of ryouta trees, and Nesa hanging in the sky so big and bright…”

“And you’ll be home again before you know it,” lied Carr. “Just rest now.”

Mumphrey looked at him as a flash of pain crossed her face. “Just take me home, Frank. I should have never…” Her eyes fell shut. Sanchez made a little whimper of a sound and then felt the inside of Mumphrey’s wrist for a pulse that wasn’t there. Carr stood and checked for life on the side of her neck, finding nothing.

“You’re right old girl—you should have never come here.” Frank Carr bent down and kissed Mumphrey on the forehead as Etta Sanchez wiped at the tears on her cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” said a voice from the doorway. It was Voss. “I’m sorry for all the nasty things I said to her—to all of you.”

Carr pulled up a blanket and gently placed it across the older woman’s face. Sanchez realized she was still holding a bloody towel and let it drop from her hand.

Walking over to the big man, she gave him a small hug. “How’s the leg, big guy?” she asked.

“I’ll live. Carr did a good job patchin’ me up.”

“Voss,” said Carr, “when all of this is over, we’ll come back for her body to take her home, but until then…”

“We can clear out a space and put her in one of the plant’s freezers, if that’s not too disrespectful, that is.” The big man looked slightly embarrassed about the idea.

“Under the circumstances, I think that would be fine,” Carr said, grasping the man’s shoulder to reassure him. “Sanchez, I need to see you outside.”

After they both washed up, the Sarissans retreated to a small courtyard in the back of the Korab family living quarters. The butcher had posted sentries around the plant as his people were reporting in. There were also some lookouts hidden on the rooftops. Otherwise, it was a pleasant evening with a bracing chill in the air.

“What’s the plan?” asked Sanchez.

“One of Korab’s squads is going to take us to the ships. You’re going to take
Kite
and find our task force so they can download all the data we collected. Hopefully, there will be something in there they can use.”

“And you?” Sanchez asked in a wary tone.

“I’m taking
Kestrel
.”

“Taking it where?”

“To Haldryn’s big warship.”

Sanchez placed her hand on her temple and paced a few steps. “A suicide mission?
That’s
your plan. What the hell, Carr? You have to be kidding me.”

“You know our people don’t stand a chance unless something is done about that monster ship.”

“You told me we should always have a plan B. We need to find a plan B, because honestly, plan A sucks.”

“There’s no time.”

Sanchez calmed herself, thinking she had come up with a winning argument. “Look, even if you do throw your life away and smash
Kestrel
into that titan, it would barely make a scratch against that thing.”

“I’m going to take the bomb Haldryn’s people gave Sandu—that will give me some punch.”

She sat down on a chair and rubbed her eyes with equal measures of fatigue and annoyance. “Carr, is this about Shannon?”

His face reddened—she could see it even in the dim light of the evening. “How do you know about her? She’s none of your concern.”

“She is if it’s affecting our mission and I think that’s what’s going on here. Mumphrey told me a few things, but not much. Fill me in—talk to me.”

Neither of them moved as a silence dragged out through the autumn night. Sanchez sensed that veteran operative Frank Carr had reached the end of his rope. The man was crashing. He was a car running on a low charge. Another mile, another foot, and then he would simply stop. His resourcefulness, his ingenuity, his training—they were all failing him, so much so, that all he could come up with was a futile gesture.