Read Ebook: Evil Out of Onzar by Ganes Mark

Font size: 10 px 15 px 20 px 25 px 30 px 35 px

Background color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Text color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Apply/Save settings

Ebook has 327 lines and 21901 words, and 7 pages

Thane, as he recovered fully from the Stoltz shock, recognized the tall blonde girl standing before him. Astrid Reine, Manning's daughter and assistant. He raised himself painfully to his elbows. As he did, he saw Astrid's knuckles tighten around the impeller.

"No, Astrid," he said. "I'm here to help you. We may still be able to save your father."

Her hand didn't waver. The expression on her golden face was scornful. "Do not lie so childishly! You came with the Onzarians, the agents of Candar. You are one of them. You came to take my father."

Thane desperately gestured back the way he had come. "My footprints are in the snow. There's an Onzarian I killed. And my anti-grav. I was sent to protect your father."

"Who are you?"

A roaring noise came from the east and a moment later a jet cleared the tree tops, headed south. Thane saw the ship at the edge of his vision, but kept his eyes on Astrid. She turned her head slightly at the sound. Slightly, but enough. Thane's tensed muscles contracted as he sprang to his feet. She pressed the impeller--just as his left foot kicked in a high arc and caught the side of the barrel.

The gun spun off to the edge of the clearing. "Now," he said angrily, "don't you think we've wasted enough time? They have him now, and with that jet they'll have enough start on us to leave the system before we can catch them." As he spoke, the jet reappeared and slipped down low over the trees to the west. "Hurry," he said, "they'll be on us in seconds."

She looked at him, hesitated. Then, "All right. Inside."

She stepped over to the trunk of the tree and spoke softly. A panel opened in the ground at the foot of the tree, over a grav-well. They dropped gently, and the panel closed behind them. As they floated slowly downward they heard a sharp explosion overhead. He smiled wryly at Astrid, dropping beside him.

"Your change of heart," he said, "didn't come any too soon."

Reine's laboratory, like a great deal else in the Allied Systems, had gone underground as galactic war approached. Far beneath the surface, the grav-well ended in a corridor, stretching out a hundred meters. Rooms filled with equipment opened out at either side. As they walked down the corridor, Thane explained his mission and his Onzarian appearance. "Now," he went on, "there's a lot for me to catch up on."

"It's been terrible," Astrid said. "First, there was the attack yesterday. We fought them off, then. Liaison radioed that they were sending more protection. But the jet that landed today flashed the Liaison code to our auto-interrogator. We lowered the screen and they began to attack. We didn't stand a chance, once they were inside."

It was all clear enough, and it was certainly also clear that he was late. There was the faint possibility that Reine could still be rescued before the Onzarians could leave the system.

He turned to Astrid. "If they plan to leave by the regular Onzarian transport, we should be able to catch them at the Aberdeen spaceport. Where's the radio?"

They had reached an open door. Astrid's gesture was hopeless. Thane looked inside. The Onzarians had been there before they left. Twisted, melted circuits were all they had left.

And always there was recurrent alarm for her father. She broke off her talk of the University and gripped his arm. "Roger, we must stop them. If they take my father to Onzar, he'll be killed. And the movement. What will happen to that?"

"The movement?" Roger Thane asked, puzzled.

"Why of course," she said, surprised. "Don't you know about it?"

Thane was about to answer, but just then there was the shummer as they re-entered space at the second warp-line intersection. At the same moment the red warning light in their compartment blinked. The navigator's voice, with an undercurrent of alarm, came over the intercom. "Emergency. Emergency! Crew to battle stations. Passengers to lifeboats."

Roger and Astrid dashed out into the port corridor. The corridor widened as they ran forward, and they were suddenly in the port fire control center. An Onzarian officer, the Third from his insignia, was at the fire control panel. Thane looked at the screen over the Third's head. The ship was black and unmarked but if it was a pirate it was by far the biggest Thane had ever seen. The whole black hulk was turning in space, a hundred KM away, lining up its armament. It would only be seconds. Thane looked at the Third. He seemed to be confused, and was fumbling almost blindly with the instruments. He twisted dials almost at random, on the edge of panic. Thane hesitated--then realized what it must be--Stoltz artillery. The unmarked ship had managed to get through with it, during the microseconds of the shummer when the screens were down.

He could feel some of the effect himself. He went through a moment of indecision, but that was all. Then he stepped forward and shoved the Third Officer aside. The officer looked blank, then his face reddened in anger. As Thane tried to bring the armament to bear, the Third was clawing at his back. Thane bent and twisted. The Third went crashing into a bulkhead. Thane didn't even glance at him. There was no time. He turned back to the fire control. As he did, the first disrupter explosion came, not two kilometers ahead. The next one would get them.

Thane twisted the manual computer for there was no time to wait for the automatic to warm up. Two small adjustments and he touched the impeller. Instantly his disrupter burst appeared on the screen off the starboard bow of the black enemy. Not close enough to do real damage but enough to throw off the pirate's next shot. The shot came. Needles danced wildly on the board before Thane. The whole ship vibrated wildly. The power drain was tremendous, but the inner screens held. As Thane lined up the pirate again, the intercom said, "Five seconds to warp-line!" They'd be safe, then, after the micro second when the screens were down. And the pirate was in position to take full advantage of that moment. Thane's fingers moved with scherzo speed as he fed twelve adjustments to the fire control. He let go with everything they had on the port side, and switched off the guns, in preparation for the shummer. It came almost simultaneously, and the pirate disappeared as they went into the hyper-space of the warp-line. There was no time to see if any damage had been done. His last shots must have had effect, though, or they would never have made it back into the warp.

Thane turned away wearily from the fire-control panel. The whole encounter had lasted less than twenty seconds, but the strain of fighting against the Stoltz effect and of manually computing twelve variables had been wearing. He saw that the Third Officer was now standing close to Astrid. He started to say he was sorry that he had to act as he did. But the Third walked over to him, with military precision, his face set. He stood before Thane, young, military, and serious.

"You have impugned my honor and that of Onzar. For that your life is forfeit. We fight on Kadenar."

"I also saved your life and my own," Thane said drily, "but if you want me to take yours back, I'll be glad to oblige. See you at Kadenar." Thane turned on his heel and walked away.

Duelling was forbidden by the Systems Code but on such outposts as Kadenar it was not only allowed but even encouraged.

Therefore, no time was lost in customs. Thane's forged Onzarian passport was stamped "duellist priority" and that was that. Astrid came through as readily as his second. And the Third, with another junior officer, was just behind them.

The four of them sat side by side without a word as their automatic anti-grav taxi took them the ten kilos from the port to Kadenar City, and then beyond. The taxi continued over the City and its three "towns"--the spacetown, the bureaucrat's town, and the miner's town--and finally settled gently down in the foothills beyond. There was a clearing beneath them, with a fenced-in surface. A medic looked up as they got out.

"Differences to settle, gentlemen and my lady? Interne Pyuf at your service. The duelling tax is three sals. Always glad to accept any Systems currency. Then too, there's the cremation deposit required from both parties, the medication fee, and if you gentlemen are interested in insurance, I'm able to supply some very special policies."

After the principals and seconds had signed the register and all fees had been paid, Pyuf leaned back in his chair, lit one of the fashionable 30 centimeter cigarettes, and explained the rules. "In general, no criminal nor civil disability attaches to actions of the principals within this enclosure. Certain fines, however, are imposed if the rules are not followed. To wit: knives only can be used, not to exceed twelve inches. Each contestant may wear a personal anti-grav, limited to fifteen feet ascentability. Anti-gravs must be adjusted to compensate for native gravities." He smiled, in self-deprecation. "That's Pyuf the lawyer at work. Now perhaps you prefer Pyuf the bartender." He reached under his counter and pulled out a bottle, labelled in the local language, and poured out five glasses. "To your continued good health, gentlemen, and I sincerely hope I can return your cremation deposits--though of course, many previous contestants, grateful to be alive, have contributed the amounts to the Interne's Benefit Association."

"Enough, enough," said the Third, who was beginning to show signs of nervousness. "Let us get on with it."

Pyuf stepped over to the weapons racks and removed a set of knives and a pair of anti-grav jackets. He laid them on his table and gestured to the Third. "Take a knife and jacket." The Third chose the knife and jacket to the left without more than a cursory glance.

Pyuf reached in his jacket pocket and brought out one of the twelve-faced dies of Kadenar. "Pyuf, the gambler," he said. "You two gentlemen will now roll the die. He who is high has his choice of either group of weapons."

The Third Officer rolled first, and the Kadenar equivalent of nine came up. Thane rolled a five.

"Now," said Pyuf, "it's Pyuf, the couturier. Step forward, gentlemen, to be fitted."

Pyuf fitted the anti-grav jackets to Thane and the Third, and gave each a brief, efficient test. He stepped back and leaned against his counter. "And now, Pyuf, the referee." He pointed to a green line bisecting the enclosure. "You gentlemen will remain on the other side of the line during the contest. You remain within the fences. You do not ascend higher than fifteen feet. The contest lasts till blood has been drawn three times or until a prior fatality--or do I need add that? At any rate, that's all the rules. The State wishes you well, while it frowns on your activity. To your circles, gentlemen, and await my signal."

Thane judged the area marked off for the "contest" to be about ten meters square. It was smoothly surfaced with one of the hard local metals, and Thane noticed a few bloodstains near the edges. Most of them were the dark brown of dried human blood, but there were other alien colors mixed in here and there.

As he walked across the court Thane looked carefully at his opponent, appraising him. They were both about the same height but the Third had several centimeters more reach. Probably around the equivalent of 23 years, absolute time. Certainly at the peak of physical condition. Thane decided on his course. He would try first for his opponent's anti-grav. Probably the other would try to cover his throat and belly, and Thane might be able to get to the anti-grav by surprise. Then, draw the blood that was in the rules, and get the thing over. Not much of a plan, but at least a plan.

There was an inset ring of some cupra-alloy at each end of the duelling court, about a meter in diameter. Thane reached his end, watched his opponent, and waited for Pyuf's signal. Pyuf slowly poured another drink. As he raised it with his right hand, his left arm went up over his head. He swallowed the drink, and the left arm came down.

The Third Officer came on in all-out attack. His anti-grav assisted leap was long and shallow, aimed at Thane's throat. At the same moment Thane bent his knees slightly and dropped. Just before he hit the surface he pushed up and outward with all his strength and twisted his body sharply. With the assistance of the anti-grav he was floating now directly above and behind his opponent. He cut off the anti-grav completely and dropped, with all the planet's gravity. As he did, the Third twisted and raised his knife. He lacked a fraction of a second to complete the turn and get into lethal position. Thane hit him on the shoulder and instantly turned his anti-grav to the "full" position, grabbed his opponent's shoulders, and pushed against the court surface with both heels.

They both went up and over, almost to the fifteen meter limit. As they did, Thane worked his knife into the anti-grav pack on his opponent's back. Three connections, at the top, left, and bottom. His knife cut in and out rapidly, three times. Then he suddenly pushed away, slipped his own anti-grav to zero, and dropped to the surface.

The Third, suddenly without the assistance of his anti-grav, crashed into the fence and dropped leadenly to the metalled surface. Thane crouched a moment watching him. Thane had a cut above one eye, and the blood was beginning to run. He stepped forward....

... the knife in his hand ... what was it there for? He should be on his way to the rotor meet with the rest of the boys ... he was going to win this year ... he was going to win....

Someone obviously had reason to cart him, unconscious, across a few light years. Apparently, the duel had not been what it seemed. But how? And why? Quite possibly the Third Officer was an agent of Onzarian counter-espionage. If so, what had happened to Astrid? How had Pyuf and the others been taken care of? On the other hand, it was quite possible that Astrid was behind it. He remembered how she seemed to have been talking to the Third just before the challenge. But for what motive? Thane smiled to himself. The speculation was interesting, but a little barren till more data turned up.

It was not long in coming. Thane had begun to explore the room carefully when a door opened. It was Pyuf, armed. "You'll come with me, please." No longer the half drunk duelling attendant, Pyuf was now quite sober and quite serious.

Thane went. There were questions to be answered.

He had somehow expected a long corridor with many doors. Instead, he walked directly into a brightly lighted room, filled with a great deal of equipment. He recognized the latest model lie-detector, a rather outdated narco-synthesizer, a Class B Psychocomputer. Much of the rest was unfamiliar.

There were two Onzarians in the room. Both, in contrast to Pyuf, who was dark and shorter than the average, had typical Onzar features--yellow eyes with a slight slant, and golden skin. Pyuf gestured towards Thane. "Give him the whole routine. We want to know everything you can get. Then let us know."

Thane, of course, had been prepared for this sort of thing. He'd spent time in Medico-Synthesis after every major job to immunize him against interrogation. He'd had three separate, integrated pasts built up, all quite fictional, which could be used during interrogation. He was protected, at a certain level, against physical torture, and he did have a certain protection against most of the drugs.

But the older medic simply asked him to sit down. He did, and his assistant twisted a few dials. Indicators gave readings, quite a few hundred readings. A metal recorder plate dropped out. The assistant dropped this into the computer which began busily to eject tape. The older man read the tape as it ticked out. The computer stopped and he crumpled up the tape and tossed it into a corner. "Injection A17," he said.

Vaguely he heard his name. He sat up, blinked his eyes open and looked around. He was in quite a different room. There were curtains at the windows, a desk, a rug, even a fire. There was a figure in front of him speaking to him. "Roger Thane, we know you now. There is much that we do not know, that has been hidden from even our methods. But we know enough."

Share on: WhatsApp @Hash Facebook Tweet