Redline The Stars Part 3

Miceal's face hardened. "Right now, I wish we had turned Cofort's d.a.m.n offer down. I may well have s.h.i.+pped a potential nova aboard the Solar Queen-that or something half a universe worse."

6.

Jellico had little time to dwell on the puzzle of his unwelcome temporary hand the following day. The Queen was scheduled to set down on Canuche of Halio by late evening, and all the myriad tasks that accompanied planetfall kept him and the rest of her hands fully occupied.

Excitement ran high. The direction their immediate future would take would be decided on the rapidly nearing world.

Would they be lucky enough to pick up a charter, paying pa.s.sengers or cargo that would enable them to write off the expense of their next voyage, albeit at the cost of dictating what the destination would be?

What sort of goods would they find to restock the Solar Queen's nearly empty Trade holds? Jewels, textiles, luxury products, a vast array of manufactured items, raw materials, native produce-the planet's markets offered them all, along with a smattering of other, more exotic goods brought in by Traders calling at the busy s.p.a.ceport, but they could not predict what the exact mix or quality would be during their own stay on-world.

Soon now, they would be able to start answering those questions. In the meantime, they could only speculate and do what they could to prepare for whatever opportunities might arise-or be induced to arise-on Canuche of Halio.

A yowl and snarl like something issuing from the throat of a werebeast out of legend shocked Dane Thorson full awake.

The chill of the air told him the Queen was still on night schedule, but he did no more than note that as he cautiously made for the door panel of his cabin, feeling his way in the near-dark. He was not about to activate the lights, not until he ascertained what was wrong. Something most a.s.suredly was. Anything out of the ordinary on a stars.h.i.+p was to be viewed with suspicion, and a commotion in the middle of the night was the equivalent of a formal alarm, especially when she was on-world, as the Solar Queen now was.

Cautiously, he slid the panel back a crack. There was no noise now, but he froze at what he saw outside.

They had taken on a pa.s.senger, then, short a time as the hatch had been open yesterday evening. Sinbad had detected and tracked down the invader, but the challenge it presented was a real one. The beast was large, a good foot long excluding the whip-thin, hairless tail, and its low, slender body was solidly muscled. The claws on the digits of its four feet were inconsequential, obviously never intended to serve as a defense against a foe of the cat's size.

The teeth in its long, bewhiskered muzzle were another matter. They were sharp, and the creature was fast enough to wield them efficiently. Both Sinbad's ears were torn, and there was a deep gash on the side of his jaw.

However scored, the cat was the stronger fighter. The intruder's brown fur was matted with blood, and it was obviously nearing the end of its strength. Sinbad recognized that. He crouched low, watching intently. Occasionally, his tail lashed with incredible, utterly controlled violence, but otherwise he was motionless, seemingly more statue than living animal.

Suddenly, with no forewarning detectable by either his prey or the watching man, Sinbad sprang. The powerful leap carried him high, then down with spine-shattering force onto the back of his opponent. Strong, needle-sharp teeth closed on the neck. Fraction-seconds later, he shook the thing and cast it on the deck, where it kicked twice in a final, nerve-fired spasm and lay still.

Dane's eyes flicked to it, then away again. Moving quickly, he caught up Sinbad in his arms. They were no mere scratches that the cat had taken. The bleeding had to be stopped and medical care inst.i.tuted at once. Immunization shots or no, the bite of an alien creature was one of the most potentially perilous accidents threatening an offworlder. No prophylactic series could defend against every one of the myriad microorganisms that might be introduced into the body by such means, many of which could overwhelm with terrifying speed and deadly result the defenses of beings not prepared by nature to confront them.

His lips compressed into a hard line. Holding the injured cat, working to stanch the bleeding that might soon dangerously weaken him, he realized that he no longer saw Sinbad simply as an animal kept aboard to perform a useful service for his human masters. This was a friend, a full member of the Solar Queen's crew, the Chief of Pest Control in fact, as Rael Cofort had named him. Aye, there were grave limitations to the degree of communication attainable between members of his species and the feline, but Cargo-Masters and their apprentices working with precious little more on occasion when making contact with newly encountered or rarely visited races could manage to achieve lucrative trade relations beneficial to both parties . . .

When the crisis of the active bleeding was under control, Thorson hit the intercom b.u.t.ton with a force born of anxiety. Be the victim four-footed or biped, the situation remained a medical emergency. It was his responsibility to summon expert help to deal with it.

Rael was out of her bunk and drawing on her trousers before Dane had half begun his terse description of the situation. In the next moment, she had rammed her bare feet into deck boots and thrust her aims into the sleeves of her tunic, then, grabbing the medical kit that never lay far from her hand when she slept, she dashed from her cabin.

She reached Thorson's quarters at a full run, seconds before the senior Medic.

Her eyes sought and in the same moment found her patient. "Oh, Sinbad!" she exclaimed softly. "What's happened to you, my brave little warrior?"

The woman set her bag down on the bottom of the bed, snapping it open as she did so. Her movements, though quick, were smooth and quiet, designed not to further startle the injured animal. "Hold him steady, Dane," she instructed. "I want to take a quick look at those bites and then get to work on them."

"I've got him," he a.s.sured her.

Rael worked fast, with her full attention fixed on her small patient.

Dane watched in something akin to awe as her fingers seemed to fly of their own accord, at once gentle and sure in then- mission. Medicine was sometimes described as an art, and he realized he was witnessing a manifestation of that aspect of it here, a healing of body that encompa.s.sed mind and heart as well. Sinbad lay quiet in his arms, without fear, despite the excitement of the fight, his physical pain, the shock of his wounds, and the strangeness of the procedures being performed on him.

Dane glanced at Tau and caught his slow nod of approval. The Medic recognized excellence in his own profession, excellence that surpa.s.sed mere skill.

At last it was over. Cofort ran her hands several times along Sinbad's back and sides, drawing a rumbling purr from him. She touched her lips to the top of his head, then looked up at the Cargo-apprentice. "You did well to stop the bleeding as quickly as you did. Otherwise, we might have had to transfuse him, never a pleasant experience for an animal."

"He'll be all right now?" Thorson inquired anxiously.

"He should be. Doctor Tau will want to look him over tomorrow ..."

"It's rarely beneficial to the patient to change good Medics mid-treatment," Craig interjected. "I'm available for consultation, naturally, but Sinbad's getting excellent care from his present physician."

"Thank you, Doctor." Tau's comment was as much an a.s.surance to the Queen's crew, a public affirmation of her skill, as an acknowledgment of her right to treat as the first Medic on the scene.

Rael took the cat from Thorson. "What this poor little lad needs right now is a nice, comfortable, warm bed for the night. You won't mind him sharing yours, will you, Dane?"

"No. Sinbad often bunks with me." He liked the company and the feel of life-warmed fur beside him, but he sighed inwardly when the torn, as if on cue, jumped from her arms onto the bunk and settled himself, head on pillow, right in its center with almost mathematical precision.

He would not have the heart to s.h.i.+ft his guest tonight, and if Sinbad did not move of his own accord, he would have to spend the remainder of the sleep period pretzeled around their wounded defender.

That probability was equally apparent to those of his s.h.i.+pmates who had pushed into his small cabin, although given the circ.u.mstances they refrained from ribbing him openly.

Rael's eyes were still dancing with the laughter she had not yet screened when they met the Captain's and found the same merriment mirrored there.

It lasted but an instant, then the cold solar steel returned to them. Jellico strode out into the corridor. "Let's have a look at what's left of his opponent."

"A port rat," Rip Shannon informed him, "and, s.p.a.ce, the size of it! Sinbad got off lightly."

The whole crew was gathered there, as was inevitable on a s.h.i.+p as small as the Solar Queen when an event of note occurred.

Jellico knelt beside the invader's corpse, not touching it but studying it with an interest that overrode his innate Terran distaste for the creatures. "The beast can't be blamed for fighting well for its life."

Cofort smiled her approval, but her eyes were dark when they rested on the animal. "No," she agreed. "There was no real contest, though, not once Sinbad got it cornered."

"He was lucky all the same. It was big enough to have done even more damage than it inflicted."

"Canuche grows them big," she told him, "and they're all over this town, what with the s.p.a.ce- and seaports, the warehouse complexes serving them, and Happy City. We'll have to put up mesh nets whenever the hatch is open if we've got a metal set, and even then, we'll be fortunate not to s.h.i.+p a few. The Roving Star lifted with a pair the last time we were on-world. - Aggressive little beggars, too, and smart enough to duck most traps. It was the cats who finally took them for us, at the cost of some skin."

No one received that piece of information with any sense of pleasure. If humankind had intentionally carried Terra's felines into s.p.a.ce, other, less desirable denizens of the mother planet had followed of their own accord. Few worlds indeed among those first settled, before the advent of the Federation's stringent pest control regulations, had been fortunate enough to escape a visit from the tough, incredibly adaptable rat, and where that colonizing species came it generally stayed.

Oddly enough, rats had rarely wrought the ecological havoc that had marked their spread on Terra. Rather, they had concentrated their activities in and around the dwellings and other establishments of their ancient hosts and adversaries. Sometimes they grew larger than prototype, more often smaller under the pressures and differences of their new environments, but invariably they were a problem. Mostly, they were readily manageable; in a few unfortunate cases, where the rodents had either not been detected quickly enough or had myopically been ignored, they had developed into a scourge threatening the very existence of the colony itself.

"We'll do what we can to keep them out, if only to save Sinbad another battering," the Captain promised. "Now, dispose of this thing, Thorson, and let's get back to our bunks for what's left of the night. We'll have plenty to do tomorrow besides sleeping the morning away."

7.

Rael wrinkled her nose in distaste as she stepped through the Queen's hatch out onto the boarding ramp. Canuche of Halio was a highly industrialized world with a great deal of heavy manufacturing and chemical processing Every tame she came here, she found the stink of the atmosphere harder to take. Fortunately, it was only unpleasant and not actually detrimental to one's health, however much it offended her sensibilities. Also fortunately, she had never been forced to remain very long on-world. Teague had always just stopped off to pick up a few supplies and lifted off again as quickly as he could.

"Where do we go first?" she inquired of her companions She and the three apprentices had been given the day to take care of personal business and also to get a feel for the planet. Their officers would be expecting a report from each of them on various topics relating to their respective specialties when they returned that evening.

"The supply depot," Alt told her. "This is the first time since we took on that mail run that we've been near one, and we all have gear that needs replacing."

Dane fervently seconded that statement in his own mind. When he had joined the Solar Queen, he had been fresh out of Training Pool, physically still somewhat a boy.

Since then, he had added muscle, gaining breadth of shoulder and chest. At this point, all his clothing was stretched tightly over his body and would not have gone on him at all had it not been for Frank Mura's efforts with a needle.

He would be glad to be rid of the lot even though replacing everything would put a nasty hole in his already small store of credits.

A couple of hours later, the four left the Trade depot in good spirits. The men were wearing some of their purchases and carrying the rest. Only Rael was unburdened.

She had come on board well supplied, and she informed her companions that she was holding her spare credits for the market.

"Let's drop off the loot," Shannon suggested, "and see about some real, honest-to-goodness food. - You're the expert, Rael, since none of the rest of us has been on Canuche before. Any suggestions? Someplace good in Happy City maybe?"

"Not there," she declared flatly. "They've got marvelous restaurants in the northern section, right enough, but we wouldn't want to try paying for a meal in one of those.

"This is a working person's planet. Let's just take a transport to any of the factory areas, preferably near the big plants down by the waterfront. We'll find plenty of eateries around there, not fancy and the food's plain, but it's real, it's good, there's a lot of it, and it's reasonably priced."

"Lead on, good Doctor," Ali told her with an exaggerated flourish of his hand. "We can always escort the children through Happy City later on and show them something of Canuche's seamier side."

She frowned. "That's the locals' playground. We've got no guarantee that any of its delights are safe. Trade has blacklisted the gambling altogether. s.p.a.ce hounds have been made the mark too often in there."

"Do we look like total innocents?" Kamil demanded archly. "Besides, no one's suggesting that we venture there at night. Apart from the big restaurants, most of the place'll be shut down. It won't hurt to have a quick look around as long as we stick together." He said that last seriously. There were many areas in the galaxy where strangers were better advised not to wander alone, Canuche's pleasure districts, with Happy City at the top of the list, among them. At least, rumor had it that an occasional tramp s.p.a.cer had gone there for a night's enjoyment and had not returned to s.h.i.+p or comrades again.

Dane soon tired of Happy City. It might sparkle with excitement at night when all its lights were ablaze and its streets and buildings were alive with people bent on finding their particular definition of fun, but now, as Ali had predicted, most of the area was closed tightly while the greater part of its denizens slept away the hours of Hallo's light. It looked dingy and tawdry and also a little sad, like a hope just beginning to fade.

Canuche permitted bawdry, gaming, and the sale for use outside the home of the many legal intoxicants, but strictly limited the areas in which such commerce could be conducted. The result was a series of pleasure districts, one for each of the provinces into which the big planet was divided.

There was no need to conceal the nature of Happy City's major industries, and no attempt was made to do so. Every block had one, and usually several, scarlet-fronted erotic houses with their posters of provocative symbols describing the company and substances to be found within. Interspersed among these were a bewildering number of drinking and smoking establishments, all featuring both live entertainment and gambling. Some offered facilities for dancing and food as well, the latter limited to light dishes geared to the desires of people whose main interest was in consuming products of another sort or to those wanting something to nibble while watching a show or taking a brief break from their exploration of the various haunts of the region. A few would also provide chambers where darker products could be purchased and used away from the prying eyes of the local police and the Stellar Patrol.

The remaining buildings housed straight dining places, the more pretentious of which called themselves restaurants. Those, too, were closed, and from the look of them, he was glad their guide had steered them to that eatery down by the waterfront. He doubted they would have found much of a s.p.a.cer's definition of either quant.i.ty or quality in any of these.

That would not be true once they reached the northern section, of course, with its legitimate theaters and fine restaurants, but none of those were priced to attract the patronage of apprentices from small rim Free Traders.

Thorson shook his head. The existence of the facilities around them was hardly cause for amazement. Every s.p.a.ceport of any significance provided similar services, all carefully supervised for the protection of reasonably cautious s.p.a.cers. The concentration of them and the sheer size of the district was something else for one accustomed from his youth to the almost ascetic standards of the Pool. Gut level, he found this wholesale dedication to raw physical amus.e.m.e.nt a little disconcerting and more so the realization that Happy City was not unique in the universe. Many planets shared the same legal att.i.tude toward the activities pursued here, and just about every one of them sported similar areas, all more or less notorious. Where excess was expected, and encouraged, it usually occurred.

All at once, his mind snapped back from the contemplation of the cultural phenomenon of the pleasure district to fix on their immediate surroundings. He stiffened as he did so. There were few locals on the streets, but his party was drawing an uncommon amount of interest from those who were about.

To be more precise, Rael Cofort was attracting it. The time they had spent living and working together on the Solar Queen had bred a familiarity that had blunted his awareness of the Medic's beauty. Canucheans were not so blinded, and to their way of thinking, there was but one reason why so pretty a woman should be wandering around a region like this.

The same held true for a particularly handsome man. Ali, too, was receiving some close scrutiny.

Thorson could feel his temper rising and also his concern. Sure, the four of them could defend themselves against the single or couple of individuals they encountered, but those one or two had friends, doubtless within easy call. There was precious little anyone could do against a mob except hope to outrun it.

His fear eased in the next moment. It was inevitable that they should attract attention. The fact that they were obvious strangers would in itself ensure that they were noticed.

Ali and Rael merely increased their conspicuousness. They were a singularly handsome pair by any standard that appreciated even marginally the Terran prototype, and in a place where beauty was routinely bartered, they had to expect close scrutiny.

There would be no trouble, not as long as they conducted themselves circ.u.mspectly, at least not at this hour, while Happy City was quiet and its patrons unfired by chemicals and the nighttime excitement of the place. They were, after all, off-worlders, not merely outsiders. They would not be expected to understand the nuances of appropriate behavior, much less to abide by them.

s.p.a.ce hounds were no more immune to that error than were their surplanetary kindred, he had to admit in all fairness. Almost to a one, they tended to regard the planet bound with precisely the same overblown, parochial tolerance. It was an odd prejudice when one considered it, and it applied almost exclusively to the various branches of humanity originating on Terra-races and species with other roots usually demanded more exacting compliance with local custom, with far heavier penalties for failure- but s.p.a.cers, at least, had reason to be grateful that it existed. The att.i.tude might in theory be a bit demeaning, but it did allow one to get on with the work at hand and conduct business effectively on planets with restrictive societies and moral or social codes strongly at variance with those ruling the starlanes.

Relaxing again, Dane turned his attention back to the silent, waiting city. They were pa.s.sing one of the narrow alleys separating two outward-facing rows of buildings, and he paused a moment to study it.

The long, deeply shadowed pa.s.sage was like any one of the countless others they had seen on their informal tour.

It was set exactly one step below the buildings lining it on both sides and was paved or tarred with a smooth, dark substance resistant to staining and capable of withstanding the heavy morning traffic engaged in the removal of garbage and other refuse and in the delivery of various supplies.

He noted again that each establishment seemed to possess the ability to close off its own share of the alley by means of high, retractable chain link fences, all of which were now drawn back in whole or part into their sheaths to allow the various service vehicles ready access to the entire pa.s.sage. "Why the fences?" he wondered aloud. He could see no ready explanation for this apparently universal proprietary interest in these small, ugly patches of real estate.

Ali gave him one of his superior looks that still had the power to irritate the starlight out of Dane. "Well, my boy," he pontificated, "consider the number of people, many of them total strangers, frequenting these worthy palaces of entertainment. Quite, a few of those individuals would probably like to enjoy the delights of the house and then quietly depart with their store of wealth intact. The proprietors are doubtless unsympathetic to such initiative and most likely reason that a forest of high fences will render a quick dash out the back door ineffectual."

"Why all the chain, then?" Thorson inquired, refusing to let the other annoy him. "A solid metal barrier of this height'd be harder to scale, especially by someone who'd had a few."

"Spare us, Ali!" Rael pleaded, laughing. "A straight reply really will do just nicely."

The Engineer-apprentice started to scowl but then merely shrugged. "Actually, I don't know the answer to that one," he confessed.

"It's so the Canuchean police and the Patrol can see at a glance what's happening when they go by, which they do frequently and on an irregular schedule," she informed them. "That's why a minimum amount of lighting's required as well. Drunks still get rolled, I'm sure, and troublesome or slow-paying patrons worked over, but this does help to keep a reasonable hatch on such practices."

As she was speaking, Dane moved closer to the wall to study the mechanism of the fence. His companions started to join him, but Rael quickly stepped back again. "s.p.a.ce, what a stink!"

Ali cleared his throat. "With the volume of drinking and mixing of substances," he said delicately, "a certain effluvium is to be expected around the back door."

"All right, Ali," Rip Shannon interjected. "We get the picture."

Kamil grinned at his companion's squeamishness but followed the others readily as they hastened to move away from the shabby yard. He had not been aware of any particularly unpleasant smell until Cofort had mentioned it, but once she did, he caught it as well, a muskiness tinged with ammonia.

The four paused when they reached the front of the establishment, a drinking bar called the Red Garnet. It was open, not merely undergoing a cleaning and set-up for the night ahead but apparently inviting trade.

"How about having a look?" Dane surprised himself with the question. The whole pleasure district repulsed him, more strongly the longer he remained in it, but he was curious, too. d.a.m.n it, he wanted to see the inside of that place or of some other like it.

The Engineer-apprentice hesitated. They were at liberty, but he had a feeling that did not include permission to patronize anything in Happy City beyond a straight restaurant. "If we go in, we'll be expected to buy . . ."

"Not all of us," Rael cut in sharply.

Kamil's brows raised. "Give me time. Doctor. I was about to say that only two of us should order. The others won't. Does that meet your approval?"

She nodded curtly. "Aye. It's probably unnecessary, but . . ."

"Precisely, Doctor. Where Trade blacklists part of an operation, let the wise s.p.a.ce hound beware the rest. - Now that we've settled on our strategy, we need only choose our two drinkers. I'll pa.s.s. Thorson's one since this excursion is his idea. What about you to keep him company, Cofort?"