Spaceways - The Planet Murderer Part 8

75.was embellished with red stripes and braidwork as well as a s.h.i.+ning black belt.

"Psychist-Yahna!-you honor me! What may I do to help you?" His smile was nearly as radiant as her hair.

She gave him a ripe-lipped smile to melt policers, not to mention the stone walls that this prison made.

"How charming of you, Captain Aswan! I came back because of something this Eilan creature said. I thought you should hear it, too." She turned. "Eilan?"

Jestikhan made it a point to hang his head contritely. In the process, he noted that his battered miner's helmet rested on a table in one corner of Aswan's office. A sour nostalgia touched him. Silently, Jesti resolved to reclaim that beloved old hardhat before he left Croz. If he left.

Yahna Golden repeated, "Eilan?"

He scowled, looked at the captain. "The pirates you brought in this morning? I recognized one. One of the Duties?"

"You did-? Which?"

Jesti shrugged. "I'd have to see 'em to tell you." He hesitated. "I think he may know something about that Thebanian girl? The hust?"

Golden said, "It happens this way sometimes, Captain. Delayed response. It's a corollary of brain-drain, sometimes a problem-but you surely know that."

The Crozer was already excited. Swiftly despite his bulk, he came around from behind his desk with eyes alight.

"This way."

Jesti noted with a certain cynical amus.e.m.e.nt that the Crozer so positioned himself as to maintain a steadying grip on Yahna Golden's arm. That way the hand occasionally "had to" touch her breast. (Already Jesti had made a mental note about Yahna's acting ability-superb! A woman to be wary of.) He followed close behind them along pa.s.sageways and past doors, through doorways and past a supply room. They reached a great plasteel lockbox at least a hekto long. Prisoners glowering out of metalmesh cages.

76.Captain Aswan gestured guards aside. "Down this way, at the end."

They pa.s.sed more cages. Another barrier with guards in floppy pants. Two prisoners were polis.h.i.+ng worn pre-plasteel fittings with a portable tank of liquid glo-gloss. They came to a bigger cage, the kind known as a tanq. It housed four captives: a Jarp from Jarpi, a Sek from ever-hot planet Sekhar, and two men from planet Outreach. Outies, a determinedly flamboyant breed.

The pirates rated a special guard. He sat in a metal box high above the floor and beyond the prisoners' reach, maintaining surveillance of them through an unbreakable plas-ma.s.s window. He also controlled the tanq's locking levers. Entry to his coop was down a ladder from above.

The Outie in the torn purple s.h.i.+rt had been lying down. Now he scrambled up. "Visitors!" he called. "Our old comrade the purple egg! Shall we fry 'im or poach !im?"

The policer captain snorted. With some irritation, Jesti thought he detected laughter in the sound. The captain turned.

"Well, Eilan? Is this the man you spoke of?"

Jesti moved closer to the cage and peered through the metal mesh. Uncertainly, he shook his head and worried his lower lip with his teeth.

"Can't be sure, Cap'm. The fellow had a mark ... I just can't be sure through this webbing."

Again Captain Aswan snorted-in irritation, this time. He wheeled and signaled to the guard up in the control box. Jestikhan Churt held his breath . . .

The guard's electronic controls opened the tanq's door. At Aswan's gesture, Jesti stepped inside the big cage to peer at the man in the purple s.h.i.+rt. Suddenly he pointed.

"Here! Look! It's this one!"

Aswan had been speaking to Yahna Golden in a hushed voice. (Jesti rather doubted that the topic was official business.) At his call, the heavy-bodied Crozer captain moved to step across the cage's threshold.

Jesti bent and pivoted in the same instant. Driving hard, he slammed his shoulder into the man's middle. Aswan crashed backward against the doorjamb with a grunt and 77.an ugly sound of impact. Jesti seized his arms and held him right there. The policer was a powerful man, but hardly a match for an Eilan miner.

The four pirates gaped, quadruple studies in shock. Yahna Golden looked shocked, too. Impressed, perhaps.

Jesti spoke through clenched teeth.

"If someone was to anchor this fobber here, that guard upstairs can't close the door. Not unless he wants to throw the lockbolt right through his captain's gut." He raised his voice. "He won't sound an alarm, either. At least the captain hopes not."

That shattered the spell that had frozen the pirates. The Sek lunged in to pin Aswan's shoulders. The polka-dotted Outie kneed him in the gut. The Jarp did things to his throat that had him choking under a double-thumbed hand.

That left the Outie in the purple s.h.i.+rt. The one with the mouth.

Jesti straightened. "Let me tell you something about purple eggs," he said, in a pleasant voice that matched his expression. "Before you cook 'em, you have to crack 'em. Like this!"

He punched the Outreacher in the nose. Not full force, but hard enough. The chesty man hit the cage-mesh behind him, bounced, tottered, hit the mesh again, and slid to the floor amid a jingling of mesh. Blood spilled from his nose.

"Colors," Jesti said. "I'm purple. Now you're red. That doesn't mean we can't get along, so long as you understand who runs the show. Right?"

The fallen man only blinked. The words seemed to cut something loose in the man from Sekhar, however. He let go the Crozer's shoulders and started for Jesti. His mouth twisted nastily, very dark above his drab white tunic.

Jesti kicked him in the s.h.i.+n.

The Sek bent double. Jesti kneed him in the chin.

One Sek, down and out.

Jesti stepped over to the Jarp and the other Outie. "Next customer?''

"Not me," the other Outie grunted, wrestling the Crozer captain more tightly back against the doorjamb. "I've got this policer type to dance with."

78.The Jarp held up its hands, palm out in Stop posture. "So you're purple and mean," its translahelm said, "and I'm orange and not. You don't have anything to prove to me, sweetheart."

Jesti grinned. "Shall we be moving out, then? You bugs resist rescue as if you really love this place!"

"You won't move far," Captain Aswan mumbled.

Jesti showed him the grin. "On account of our friend up in the chicken coop?" He rolled his eyes up toward the guard-box slung above them. "I hope you're wrong, Cap'm-sah! For your sake."

Captain Aswan blinked. "What-"

"This," Jesti said.

Deftly he flipped a loop of line about the Crozer's thick neck and drew it nice and tight. The other end he threaded through the metal mesh of the tanq-cage, high up, and drew it tight. So tight that Aswan had to stand on tiptoe in order to continue breathing.

Now the guard up in the armored box had his nose pressed against its plas-ma.s.s window, peering down at them. He wore a frozen look.

"You see?" Jesti spread his hands. "This is what we call an impa.s.se. Your guard up there can squeal for help. If he does, you'll be hanging dead by the time anyone can get here. Gas us and you sag and die faster. Right now he just can't make up his mind what to do, Captain." "What he needs is company." (That from the purple-s.h.i.+rted man.) "We've got to get that fobber out of his roost." He s.n.a.t.c.hed the end of the cord from Jesti. "Here. Let me have that."

In seconds he had it tied about his ankle and was swarming noisily up the rattly cage-mesh. Then out onto one of the framing beams that held the guard-box. That action broke the guard's paralysis-hastily, he swung a needle-beamer round in its port. He brought the laser to bear on the pirate.

The Outie's response was an impudent thumb-to-nose. A swing of legs balanced him to fall on the far side of the beam if the guard should shoot him down. (A nice touch, Jesti mused. Even dead, the falling pirate would 79.pull the cord taut across the beam and hang the Crozer captain.) Apparently the guard got the message, too. He backed off from his lase-beamer.

Now it was Jesti's turn. Trotting back to the glo-tank with no heed to the two cowering prisoners, he slung it on his back. Then he too swarmed up the mesh. Balancing on the beam, he crossed to the guard-box.

Neat rows of ventilator holes perforated its roof.

Ignoring the entry hatch (clearly, it was locked), Jesti emptied the glo-tank onto the cage's top. In secs, the liquid was dripping down through the ventilator holes: spattering the guard, puddling on the box's floor.

Jesti spoke through the holes: "Hey-Guard! You have another choice! Would you rather surrender now, or have me flash fire down into that nice snug little room with you? Glo-gloss flames up mighty hot indeed, they say. If I fire it, you won't have any more trouble with decisions-or anything else."

The guard's voice came faintly: "You don't understand! I can't unlock the hatch. The sector vector has to let me out at tour-term."

Stepping away from the guard-box, Jesti emptied the rest of the glo-tank's contents onto the floor below. That brought a trill of bird-like whistles. The Jarp executed a series of small dancing steps and flipped a (something that flamed), into the puddle.

Smoke puffed up in a nice billowing cloud.

Within two secs it triggered a sensor. An alarm started clanging loudly, somewhere close by. Jesti dropped through the haze to the floor.

"Back in the tanq," he commanded the pirates. And to Yahna and Captain Aswan: "You two, too."

Sullenly, the Crozer obeyed. Yahna's expression indicated that she was more intrigued than upset. Also excited, Jesti thought. So now you're right in a real Akima Mars meller, Yahna-yahna!

Now the sound of running footsteps echoed through the lockbox. Hastily Jesti twisted loose the glo-tank's jet and 80.handed it to Captain Aswan. The tank itself he left out of sight behind the Crozer.

"We're your prisoners," he clipped, staring hard. "You backed us down with that glo-gloss squirter. So sorry about the smoke and alarms!"

He had no time to say more. Already two guards, slavetubes in hand, were coming on the double. Jesti hoisted his hands and took his stand against the cage's wall of metalmesh webbing.

The guards must have seen the scene as self-explanatory. Intent on rescuing their officer (or at least making a good show for him), they came charging recklessly in.

Five secs later both were sprawled on the floor. One unconscious, the other moaning. Jesti took charge of the slavetubes and looked at Aswan.

"Shall we be going, Captain?"

"This way," Aswan snarled. The turquoise ring around his pineal eye seemed to glow in his rage. "You still won't make it out, Eilan. By now the whole area's cordoned."

Jesti said, "Uh," and waved a salvetube. They went.

Only one man stood watch at the lockbox entrance. A quick twist of a slavetube relaxed his vigil. Beyond him, the supply room lay deserted. With a swift moving bend to take the guard's cap, Jesti waved his party in. He flipped a wrist-wrap from the rack and turned to purple-s.h.i.+rt.

"Hold out your hands."

The man started to say something, reconsidered, closed his mouth, and extended his hands. Jesti slapped on the wrap-then snipped the web that linked the two wrist-tapes.

"So long as you hold your palms together," Jesti said, turning to repeat the process with the Sek, "the illusion of security is perfect. Pull 'em apart and you're a free man." He turned to the Jarp's outstretched hands-orange, six-digited. "Pull 'em apart before I want you to and you're a hurting man." He glanced up. "Or Jarp," he said, and "secured" the other Outie.

He also secured himself in the same way, and strung the five of them out on a chain. Yahna Golden watched ner- 81.vously all the while. Captain Aswan stared with barely repressed rage.

"We're still your prisoners," Jesti told him cheerily. "I'm sure you'll want any of your friends we meet to know that." Hands together, he waggled the slavetube- most of which was invisible between his close-pressed palms and wrists. "Or would you rather see what I can do with this?"

The Crozer's answer didn't bear repeating.

He, Yahna, and the coffle of "prisoners" left the lockbox area. They reentered the administration building proper and Jesti bade Aswan take them to his office. He enjoyed the look of bafflement that crossed the policer's face.

Aswan led them there, and a great weight seemed to lift from Jesti's shoulders at sight of his helmet, still lying on the table. Without a word he hefted and donned the battered hardhat. It felt wonderful-and a little big. Well, it was the next best thing to having his shorn hair back.

Helmeted and somehow more impressive, he looked at them and winked.

"Let's go."

His little group resumed the trek. When their course took them past a room with a window, Jesti paused long enough to peer out into the moonless night of moonless Croz. "Uh." Policers lined the street. A cordon all right, tribute to the trouble in the lockbox. Jesti glanced at Aswan.

The captain said nothing. His smirk told it all. He even managed to rub briefly against the golden-maned woman, Jesti noted; a sure sign of reviving spirits. Huh. He ain't seen nothin' yet! And they kept moving.

When they came to a lift-shaft, Jesti turned to the policer.

"Captain: to the roof, please."

"The roo-"

"The roof."

Wheels were spinning almost audibly in Aswan's head as he keyed the lift. Jesti's party boarded in silence. They went up.

On the roof, the flyer with Croz's blue tri-phallic em- 82.blem stood off to one side. A guard with a ceremonial symitar slouched beside it. Jesti strode toward him-and the aircraft. His fellow escapists followed.

Apparently the weight grew too heavy for Captain Aswan. Heedless of his own safety, he bellowed a warning. Instantly Jesti yelled "Free yourselves" and the guard came out of his slouch, swinging his weapon up. Ignoring Aswan, Jesti was already lunging toward the guard-pulling off his helmet.

Dodging the blade, he smashed his helmet into the Crozer's face. The guard reeled back. Jesti clutched the symitar and wrenched it from the man's grasp.

"Silly a.s.s. If he'd had a stopper or plasmer it'd all be over for us. d.a.m.n! Night-air's chilly!" And he eased the helmet back on.

Then the pirate crew was with him. Beating down the guard. Scrambling onto the flyer. The Sek brought up the rear, dragging Yahna Golden with him. He was wearing a Crozer officer's cap and slate-blue coat. . . . Aswan stayed behind, apparently resting. He was lying down. In moments the polka-dots-clad Outie was at the controls.

"Hang on, gang! I know this ole Model R like the inside of my mouth!"

Spinning on its own axis, the craft pinwheeled into the air. The other Outie, he of the torn Jesti-colored s.h.i.+rt, now wore a guard's cap and held a guard's collarless blue-gray jacket. He proffered it to Yahna.

"I hate to see you cover all that up, but you look about's cold as my everchil Sek buddy there." He threw Jesti a mock-salute that was not mocking. "Where to, Captain?"

"Captain!" Jesti echoed, and laughed in the same spirit of camaraderie. "Since when do kiracat miners have captains?" He peered down at the sprawl of Oddford and its s.p.a.ceport-Croz's s.p.a.ceport-falling away below them in twinkling lights. "You do have a s.h.i.+p, though? The one TGW pulled you off?"

A light came into the pirate's eyes. "You know it! It's up there-" he waved skyward-"where they docked it. On the wheel. Crossport."

83."Uh. So if we put in at the shuttle's flyer station ..."

"Firm! We could take the shuttle up to the wheel and s.n.a.t.c.h our s.h.i.+p back." A dyre-wolf would have envied the good-looking Outie's grin. "Eilan, you may not have s.h.i.+pmaster's ID or captain's rank, but you've sure got a captain's head. A pirate captain's!"

"Name's Jesti," the Eilan said. "Jestikhan Churt. Let's do it."