Battle of the Ring Read online

  “Well, I...” Trace looked as stunned as the automaton in question.

  “Surely you did search him for the device?” Maeken asked.

  “I was too preoccupied with worrying about that damned bomb!”

  “No wonder he was so sure that he could escape whenever he wants. No doubt he’s been waiting for the core to blow. I suggest...”

  “On my way!” Trace assured her as he jumped from the steps and headed for the nearest lift, suddenly very afraid that the little Starwolf had escaped him again. He was actually startled to see Velmeran still seated impatiently on his stool, the alert sentries still standing guard. He stopped short, regarding the mildly surprised captive before arrogantly walking over to hold out an impatient hand.

  “There is the matter of the little device that you use to stun my sentries,” he explained. “You should have used it when you had the chance.”

  Velmeran’s first reaction was one of complete confusion, but that demand had been fairly self-explanatory and he needed only an instant to figure things out. After a brief hesitation he opened his chestplate and removed a small rectangular device, nine centimeters by five and just over two thick, with several clip-in leads in the back. It looked very impressive, smaller than Trace had anticipated. Unfortunately for him, it was only the emergency power unit for the suit.

  “Does this have the same effect on the airlock controls?” Trace asked.

  “It has the same effect on a number of electronic devices, including such things as lifts and navigational guidance systems,” Velmeran answered truthfully. Of course, it had no effect on anything as far as he knew.

  “Clever little machine,” Trace commented as he tucked it into his pocket. “Are you in any pain?”

  “A little discomfort,” Velmeran answered. “An unavoidable part of rapid regeneration. I have nothing to take for it.”

  “Oh? What would you need?”

  Velmeran thought for a moment. “You might ask Dr. Wriestler if he has any pyridoxine.”

  “Right away,” Trace promised as he left on his errand.

  Velmeran watched until the door closed behind him, then quickly focused his thoughts on a nearby portion of the ship. Sherry?

  I am just finishing, she responded immediately. I will be ready as soon as you can get here. Then I am on my way.

  At least Velmeran hoped so. He closed his eyes as he concentrated fully on directing his talents. Half a minute passed before anything began to happen. Suddenly he felt his way begin to open. The lights dimmed, and the sentries reeled momentarily under a loss of power. And Velmeran simply vanished.

  Only a matter of seconds passed before Commander Trace returned. He was halfway across the room before he noticed that the five attentive sentries were guarding an empty stool. He nearly tripped in his astonishment. There was only one way in and out of the room, and he had not been out of sight of that door. The sentries continued to stare at the stool as if their prisoner was still seated there, and Trace, startled and confused half out of his wits, walked over to the stool to confirm that the Starwolf was indeed gone.

  “How did he escape?” he demanded of the nearest sentry. “You were ordered to shoot to kill if he left the stool.”

  “I am aware of my orders,” the sentry reported concisely. “The prisoner did not leave the stool.”

  “Well, he sure didn’t take it with him! Where did he go?”

  “He vanished.”

  Trace blinked in bemusement before realization set in. Velmeran must have had another device, stunning the entire group. This vanishing act sounded too much like that ‘I did not see anyone’ business. He turned and stalked from the room, only to be intercepted at the door by the physician.

  “Here you are!” Wriestler said, thrusting a small plastic bottle containing several pills under the Sector Commander’s nose. Trace took the bottle and stared at it.

  “What the hell is this?” He demanded.

  “What you asked for,” Wriestler explained triumphantly. “Pyridoxine. Vitamin B6.”

  -16-

  Rifle in hand, Baress advanced cautiously to the single door leading into the auxiliary bridge and peered out. Consherra, seated at the main computer console, frowned without looking up. Baress was as regular as clockwork; in the last fifty-five minutes he had checked that door exactly fifty-five times.

  “Velmeran should be coming in a few minutes,” she remarked. Her four hands were moving over two separate keyboards with lightning speed. “I just told him that I am finishing this up.”

  “Right on time,” Baress remarked, consulting the chronometer built into one of the sleeves of his suit. “I wonder what Velmeran has been up to. Whatever he did, every sentry in this end of the ship took off at a run a long time ago and they never came back. For that matter, I wonder where he is.”

  “Right behind you.”

  Baress was so startled that he spun around and fired two shots from the powerful rifle into the ceiling overheard, and even Consherra nearly fell out of her chair. Velmeran, looking very pale and worn, sat in the Captain’s seat, staring apprehensively at the smoking holes in the ceiling immediately over his head.

  “I do not know whether to compliment you for not shooting me, or just be glad you missed,” he remarked, then turned to Consherra. “Close your mouth and get back to work. I want to get out of here.”

  Consherra admitted to the logic in that and returned to work.

  “But... but how did you get in here?” Baress demanded. “I never left that door.”

  “I did not come through the door, I teleported.”

  Consherra glanced at him over her shoulder. “I would sooner believe that you put yourself in a box and came through the mail.”

  Velmeran shrugged. “Believe what you will. Now that I consider it, I am known for entirely too much wizardry as it is.”

  That was the wrong answer, of course. By denying it, he had inadvertently forced Consherra to feel obliged to believe in him. She glared at him. “What have you been doing, anyway? You look about half dead. What happened to your helmet and weapons?”

  “Don has them,” he explained. “I have spent the better part of the last hour as his guest.”

  “Then you were the grand diversion that brought every sentry on this ship at a run?” Baress asked.

  “Only at first. I hinted to Don that there is a bomb in the power core of the ship, and that he had an hour to find it.”

  Baress grinned mischievously. “I can imagine how that made them hop!”

  “Exactly,” Velmeran agreed. “He was so generally delighted to have me, and so nervous about finding that bomb, that it never occurred to him that there might be other Starwolves on his fine, big ship.”

  “That does it,” Consherra announced suddenly. “Now we can go home. What about your weapons and helmet?”

  “Nothing I can do about that.”

  “Well, you can at least have a gun,” Baress said as he offered a pistol.

  “I can do better than that,” Consherra said as she began to removed her belt. “Let me keep one pistol for reassurance and you can have the rest. It will do you more good.”

  “Drop those weapons!”

  The three Starwolves glanced up to see Commander Trace and two crewmembers standing at the door, rifles aimed to fire, as five additional crewmembers filed in to take up positions surrounding the prisoners. There was no question of escape or fighting back; this could not have come at a worse time. Baress’s rifle stood beside the door, while Consherra’s was lying beside the console. Velmeran had no weapons, Consherra was holding her weapons belt with the pistols clipped in their holsters, and Baress had laid both of his pistols on the console. Consherra looked questioningly at Velmeran, but he indicated for her to comply.

  “Damn it all, anyway,” he muttered in disgust. “If I had not been so tired, they never would have been able to sneak up on us.”

  “Now, move away from that console,” Trace directed. “Out into the open.”
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br />   The three Starwolves did as they were told.

  “Might I ask how you managed to find us so quickly?” Velmeran asked.

  “That was a very simple matter,” Trace said, lowering his weapons now that the Starwolves were safely surrounded. “The ship reported a partial power loss in that diagnostic room in the sick bay and here at the same time. Whatever the cause, it suggested where to find you.”

  Velmeran shrugged indifferently. “I guess that I need to work that out before I try it again.”

  “There will be no next time,” Trace said ominously. “I will not risk having you escape a second time. That is why I took that little memento out of your hide, remember. I knew at the time that I would probably have to kill you.”

  “Do not be a fool,” Velmeran said sharply. “I am still in control of this situation. If you want to live, then you will get out of here now.”

  “Whatever else happens, I will have the pleasure of killing you first,” Trace declared, unimpressed, as he aimed his gun. “Fire!”

  The auxiliary bridge was rocked as every gun exploded at almost exactly the same instant. Flames and thick, black smoke enveloped each of the gunners, and pieces of the white-hot metal pelted the nearer half of the bridge like hailstones. The fire alarms rang shrilly as the ventilation to the area shut down to suffocate a possible fire as the single door to the bridge snapped shut; had they possessed a sense of smell, the Starwolves would have been overwhelmed by the odor of burnt flesh. A few seconds later the ventilation came back on at full power, drawing away the thick curtain of smoke to slowly reveal eight blackened, lifeless bodies.

  The door reopened a moment later. The Starwolves assumed that it was an automatic function, and so they were caught by surprise when a sentry ambled through at its best pace. Baress dived for Consherra’s gun, while the other two prepared to dodge.

  “Sentry, halt!” a voice commanded sharply, and the machine pulled itself to a stop. A moment later a tiny human peered cautiously through the doorway. “Don’t shoot, please. I’m not armed.”

  “We will not fire,” Velmeran assured her.

  Maeken Kea entered cautiously, glancing apprehensively at the bodies that were still smoking lazily. “So you got him at last. I assume that you have some way of causing guns to explode when fired?”

  “On a small scale,” Velmeran answered evasively. “Am I correct in assuming that you are Captain Maeken Kea?”

  “I am. I assume as well that you are Velmeran.” She did not make a question of that as she came to a stop three meters away.

  “Of course. You do not seem particularly worried about the fate of your late Commander.”

  “Bastard!” Maeken spat viciously. “I’ve only just found out about how he liked to play with nuclear weapons. I’ll not apologize for anything I’ve done to try to win this battle, but I am sorry for some of the tricks he pulled. For that, most of all. And for what he did to you. He’s paid for it all, I suppose. I’m just sorry that I had any part of it.”

  “I am also sorry that you had any part of this,” Velmeran added. “Any other captain would have given me less trouble. But it is over now.”

  Maeken frowned. “That is what I wanted to ask you about. It seems to me that you people have been a great deal busier than anyone first thought. I suppose that there is no question that you have done enough damage to assure the destruction of this ship.”

  Velmeran nodded. “You could not stop it at this point even if you knew what to look for.”

  “So I had assumed.” She paused a moment to glance at the charred bodies. “If you don’t mind, I would like very much to get my crew away from here. All I have are children with fresh commissions and harmless Feldenneh... technicians, not soldiers.”

  “My mercenary common sense tells me that I should eliminate such a capable Commander as yourself,” Velmeran remarked frankly, and paused only a moment to consider the matter. “As soon as I leave this chamber, I am going to instruct the Methryn to attack in fifteen minutes.”

  “Thank you, Commander,” Maeken said as she hurried to the communications console on the lower portion of the bridge to relay the order to abandon the ship. The Starwolves collected their weapons and left in a hurry. Velmeran was already in telepathic contact with Tregloran to relay his orders to the Methryn. They now had to use the lift to get away in time, and he doubted that he had the strength left to get himself out of the Fortress otherwise. It no longer mattered how many lights they tripped on the bridge.

  Lenna, you have less than fifteen minutes to get yourself back to the fighters, Velmeran warned. She lacked the ability to reply in clear words the way the Kelvessan could, but he received the impression that she was already well ahead of them.

  The lift accelerated quickly, the computer control compensating for the longer run with greater speed. It had completed most of the distance when the car began to break to a sudden, jerky stop. Velmeran appeared to listen to some distant voice.

  “The Challenger knows where we are,” he explained. “She means to hold us here until a group of sentries can arrive to investigate, Baress, you are young and strong. Pop open those doors so that we can take a look.”

  “I might be stronger than you at the moment, but I remind you that I am nearly twice as old,” Baress said as he took hold of the edge of each door and pulled them apart. They parted easily, revealing a blank wall of gray metal just beyond. “Definitely a wall. Is that what you expected?”

  “I am afraid so. Give it a punch and see how thick it is.” Baress drew back an armored fist and put it through the panel, then peeled it back like foil. Baress tore open a way large enough to climb through in a matter of seconds, then slipped through to the other side to receive the guns and helmets that Velmeran passed to him. Soon they were all assembled in the corridor beyond.

  “Sentries will be coming from every direction, so we had better hurry,” Velmeran warned. “The stairs leading down are about two hundred meters ahead.”

  They found the stairs quickly and descended to the level of the outer airlock. Baress now led the way, assuming the role of vanguard since it was obvious that Velmeran would be lucky just to get himself out of the ship. They soon came to the access conduit that served as a channel for a maze of pipes that ran the length of the ship. The corridor that led to the airlock intercepted this a hundred meters farther down. Baress was about to step out onto the wide walkway that ran above the river of pipes when Velmeran pulled him back.

  “Sentries,” he explained. “At least five. They are waiting for us.”

  To prove the point, he broke off a half-meter section of handrail from a nearby service ladder and tossed it out onto the walkway. A barrage of powerful bolts centered on that target. Then the fire shifted to the entrance of the passage as the automaton tried to bounce bolts down the side corridor to their unseen targets.

  “We have to work our way around,” Velmeran decided reluctantly.

  There was a sudden, unexpected explosion from somewhere around the corner, followed by a steady hail of bolts that gave the Starwolves the distinct impression that the sentries themselves were under attack. When yet another exploded, Baress was overcome with curiosity and cautiously peered around the corner. He drew back instantly, looking decidedly astonished.

  “So what is it?” Consherra prompted impatiently.

  Baress shook his head slowly. “I still find it hard to believe, but I think the cavalry has arrived to save us.”

  Velmeran looked for himself, and was met with the most incredible sight he had ever seen. Bill, the sentry, was running at his best awkward pace along the walkway behind the ambushers. Lenna Makayen was perched on the very top of his back, her rifle in hand, and both of them were firing for all they were worth. The other sentries, mystified at the unexplainable attack of a Union officer and one of their own, did not even fight back as they fell quickly under the assault. They shot their way through the line of attackers and drew to a stop before the three startled Starwolves.
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  “Hurry up!” Lenna urged. “We’ve cleared the passage, but more are on their way.”

  “Lead on, then,” Velmeran answered as they fell in behind Bill’s protective bulk. “How did you know where to find us?”

  “Bill did,” she explained. “He’s been listening in as the Challenger has been ordering her sentries about trying to find you. The first ambush is here, and the second is at the far end of the long corridor leading to the outer hull. You need to call Treg and the others and have them catch those sentries from behind. How many are there, Bill?”

  “Three,” the machine replied, typically concise. They were about halfway down the tunnel to the outer hull when a short, rapid burst of cannon fire echoed loudly through the length of the passage. No bolts lit up the interior of the long corridor, however, and at its end they found Tregloran standing with his rifle in hand, surrounded by the smoking hulks of three sentries.

  Tregloran turned without a word and led the way to the airlock. They stopped at the door and Lenna handed down her rifle before hopping off Bill’s towering back. She headed immediately for the suit room, already stripping off her clothes at a furious pace.

  “You people go on and get yourselves out of here,” she ordered, her accent thickening as she tried to sound firm and authoritative. “It’ll take me a couple of minutes to get into this suit. I can’t go outside without it, and I’ll get it on no quicker with you waiting for me. It would be foolish of you to get caught here with me.”

  “So who’s arguing with you now?” Velmeran asked, imitating her perfectly. “I have to go. Valthyrra needs me. But you get yourself out of here.”

  “I’ll be just fine,” she assured him. “Bill is here to watch out for me.”

  “The Challenger has left the ring for open space,” he added. “That might give you a little more time.”

  He herded the others into the airlock and indicated for them to put on their helmets. Since he had none of his own, he began taking deep breaths until the air in the lock began to thin. Moments later the lock opened on the blackness of space and not the boulder-strewn surroundings of the ring. Trel and Marlena were there immediately, bending over the opening and reaching down to lift them out. Velmeran went first. Speed was critical for him, since he was now without an air supply and too tired to last for very long without one. He felt the intense cold of open space immediately, cold enough here in the shadows of the ship to have frozen dry ice, and perhaps even nitrogen, temperatures that would begin to affect him within minutes. He hurried to the fighters, the others only a moment behind.