Page 43 of Startide Rising


  "Calling battle fleet! Calling the battle fleet ahead! This is Lieutenant Takkata-Jim of the Terragens Survey Service. I wish to negotiate! Please ressspond!"

  The receiver was silent. Takkata-Jim cursed. The radio must work. He had taken it from Thomas Orley's sled, and that human always maintained his equipment! Why weren't the Galactics answering?

  The longboat was designed to be run by more than one person. The sudden and unexpected disaster at the island had forced him to abandon his Stenos. Now he had no one to help him. He had to juggle two or three jobs at once.

  He watched the tactics display. A cluster of yellow lights were heading his way from Galactic north. It was a paltry flotilla compared with the great armadas that had come sweeping into the system only weeks ago. But it was still an awesome array of firepower. They were heading right for him.

  Elsewhere, all was chaos. The planet was pockmarked with energy releases -- boiling steam tornadoes where volcanoes emptied into the sea. And above the planet's northern hemisphere a free-for-all battle was going on.

  Takkata-Jim increased the scale on his display and saw another fleet. It, too, had just started turning toward him.

  The ether was filled with a roar of voices. AM, FM, PCM - every spot on the dial took part in the confusion. Could that explain why nobody seemed to hear him?

  No. The Galactics had sophisticated computers. It had to be his own equipment. There had been no time to check it all before taking off.

  Takkata-Jim nervously watched the map.

  He was flying into a pod of tiger sharks, hoping to negotiate Streaker's protection and eventual release. But he remembered the look on Gillian Baskin's face, a week before, when he had suggested giving the ETs everything they wanted. Metz had supported him then, but the expression on the woman's face came to mind now. She had looked at him pityingly and told him that fanatics never worked that way.

  "They'll take all we have, thank us politely, and then boil us in oil," she had commented.

  Takkata-Jim tossed his head. I don't believe it. Besides, anything is better than what she plans!

  He watched the tactics holo. The first fleet was only a hundred thousand klicks away, now. The computer gave him data on the ships, at last. They were Soro battlecruisers.

  Soro! Takkata-Jim tasted bile from his first stomach. All the stories he had heard about them came to mind.

  What if they shoot first? What if they're not even interested in prisoners? He looked at his own battle controls. The armament of the longboat was pitiful, but ...

  A claw of his harness reached over to flick on the arming switch ... just for the small comfort it gave.

  108 ::: Streaker

  "Now both of the larger fleets turn toward Takkata-Jim!" Gillian nodded. "Keep me informed, Wattaceti." She turned. "Tsh't, how long can we stay hidden by these tectonic disturbances?"

  "Our anti-g's been detectable for five minutess, Gillian. I don't think we can put off energy detection much longer by flying over volcanoes. If we're to make a break for it we've got to gain altitude."

  "We're being scanned at long range!" the detector operator snapped. `A couple of ships from that battle over Orley's position are curiousss!"

  "That's it, then," Tsh't commented. "We go for it."

  Gillian shook her head.

  "Buy me five more minutes, Tsh't. I don't care about the stragglers up north. Keep me hidden from the main fleets just a little while longer!"

  Tsh't whirled through the oxywater, leaving a trail of bubbles. "Lucky Kaa! Steer south by southwest, toward that new volcano!"

  Gillian stared intently at the display. A tiny blue speck showed the longboat, flying toward a mass of over thirty much larger dots.

  "Come on, Takkata-Jim," Gillian murmured to herself. "I thought I had you figured out. Prove me right!"

  There hadn't been a sound on the radio from the renegade lieutenant. Toshio must have done his job, and sabotaged the sets on the island.

  The blue speck drew within one hundred thousand kilometers of the enemy.,

  "Telemetry! Takkata-Jim's armed his weaponsss!" Wattaceti announced.

  Gillian nodded. I knew it. The fellow's almost human. He'd have to have a stronger personality than I'd ever expected, not to do that, just for the security-blanket effect. As pointless as it seemed, who would go to face an enemy with his safeties on?

  Now, just a little closer ...

  "Gillian!" The detector officer cried. "I don't believe it-t! Takkata-Jim hasss ..."

  Gillian smiled, a little sadly.

  "Let me guess. Our brave vice-captain is firing on the entire battle fleet."

  Tsh't and Wattaceti turned to look at her, wide-eyed. She shrugged. "Come now. For all his faults, no one ever said Takkata-Jim wasn't brave."

  She grinned to hide her own nervousness. "Get ready, everybody."

  109 ::: Takkata-Jim

  Takkata-Jim shrieked and grabbed at the toggle switch. It didn't work! The fire controls were activating without his orders!

  Every few seconds a shudder passed through the little ship as a small seeker missile launched from the single torpedo tube. Small bursts of antimatter erupted from the longboat's nose, automatically aimed at the nearest alien vessel.

  In a lucky shot, the lead Soro ship blossomed open like a fiery flower unfolding. The sheer surprise of the attack had overcome defenses designed to withstand nova heat.

  He cursed and tried the override. It, too, had no effect.

  As the Soro fleet began firing in return, Takkata-Jim wailed and swerved the little scout into a wild series of evasive maneuvers. With a dolphin's natural three-dimensional sense, he whirled off in a high-g gyration, threading salvos that passed chillingly close.

  There was only one thing to do, only one possible source of succor. Takkata-Jim sent the scout streaking toward the second battle fleet. They must have witnessed his attack. They would think him an ally, if he survived long enough to reach them.

  He sped out into space, chased by a herd of behemoths that turned and lumbered after him.

  110 ::: Streaker

  "Now, Gillian?"

  "Almost, dear. Another minute."

  "Those shipsss from the north seem to have decided. Several of them are turning this way ... . Correction, the whole skirmish is heading southward, toward usss!"

  Gillian couldn't make herself feel too bad about drawing fire away from Tom's position. It was only returning his favor, after all.

  "All right. You choose a trajectory. I want to head out east on the ecliptic, just as soon as that second fleet finishes turning toward the longboat."

  Tsh't warbled an impatient sigh. "Aye, sir." She swam to the pilot's position and conferred with Lucky Kaa.

  111 ::: Tom

  He raised his head above the surface of the pool where he had taken refuge.

  Where had everybody gone, all of a sudden?

  Minutes ago the sky had been ablaze with pyrotechnics. Burning ships were falling out of the sky, right and left. Now he caught sight of a few stragglers, high in the distant sky, speeding southward.

  It took him a moment to come up with a guess.

  Thanks, Jill, he thought. Now give 'em hell for me.

  112 ::: Takkata-Jim

  Takkata-Jim spluttered in frustration. He was so busy there wasn't time to work on the fire controls. Desperate, he sent impulses shutting down whole blocks of computer memory. Finally, something worked. The weapons system turned off:

  Frantically, he made the ship roll left and applied full thrust to escape a spread of torpedoes.

  The two fleets were coming together quickly, with him in between.

  Takkata-Jim intended to dive into the second fleet and stop behind it, conveying by his actions what he couldn't say by radio, that he was seeking protection.

  But the controls wouldn't respond! He couldn't correct from his last evasive maneuver! He must have shut down too much memory!

  The longboat streaked outward at right angles to t
he converging fleets, away from both of them.

  Both fleets turned to follow.

  113 ::: Streaker

  "Now!" she said.

  The pilot needed no urging. He had already been adding momentum. Now he applied full power. Streakers engines roared and she left the atmosphere on a crackling trail of ionization. The acceleration could be felt even through stasis, even inside the fluid-filled bridge.

  The gray sea disappeared under a white blanket of clouds. The horizon became a curve, then an arc. Streaker fell outward into an ocean of stars.

  "They're following us. The skirmishers from up north."

  "How many?"

  "About twenty." Tsh't listened to her neural link for a moment. "They're strung out. Except for a fairly big group at the rear, hardly any two of them seem to be of the same race. I hear shooting. They're fighting each other even as they chase us."

  "How many in that final bunch?"

  "Um ... ssssix, I think."

  "Well, let's see what we can do when we stretch our legs." The planet fell behind them as Lucky Kaa sent Streaker accelerating in the direction Gillian had chosen.

  Beyond Kithrup's horizon, a great battle had begun. Her path kept her hidden by the planet's bulk for several minutes. Then they came into view of the conflagration.

  A million kilometers away, space was filled with bright explosions and hackle-raising shrieks that feebly penetrated the psi-screens.

  Tsh't commented. "The big boys are fighting over Takkata-Jim. We might even make it out of the system before the major fleets could catch up with usss."

  Gillian nodded. Toshio's sacrifice had not been in vain.

  "Then our problem is these little guys on our tail. Somehow we've got to shake them off. Maybe we can do a dodge behind the gas giant planet. How long until we can get to it?"

  "It's hard to judge, Gillian. Maybe an hour. We can't use overdrive in system, and we're carrying a lot of excess mass."

  Tsh't listened to her link, concentrating. "The ones on our tail have mostly stopped beating on each other. They may be damaged, but I think at least two of the lead ships will catch up with us about the time we reach the gasss giant."

  Gillian looked at the holo tank. Kithrup had shrunk into a tiny ball in one corner, a sparkle of battle beyond it. On this side a chain of small dots showed Streaker's pursuers.

  In the forward tank a shining pastel-striped globe began to grow. A huge world of frigid gas, looking much like Jupiter, swelled slowly but perceptibly.

  Gillian pursed her lips and whistled softly. "Well, if we can't outrun them I guess we'll have to try an ambush."

  Tsh't stared at her. "Gillian, those are battleships! We're only an overweight Snark-class survey ship!"

  Gillian grinned. "This snark has become a boojum, girl. The Thennanin shell will do more than just slow us down. And we may be able to try something they'll never expect."

  She didn't mention that, given a chance, she wanted to hang around this system a while, in case of a miracle.

  "Have all loose objects been secured?"

  "Sstandard procedure. It's been done."

  "Good. Please order all crew out of the central bay. They're to strap themselves in wherever they can."

  Tsh't gave the order, then turned back with a questioning look.

  Gillian explained. "We're slow because we're overweight, right? They'll be shooting at us before we reach the cover of the gas giant, let alone overdrive range. Tell me, Tsh't, what's making us overweight?"

  "The Thennanin shell!"

  "And? What else?"

  Tsh't looked puzzled.

  Gillian hinted with a riddle.

  * Living touch

  The substance of motion --

  * Like air, forgotten

  Until it's gone! *

  Tsh't stared blankly. Then she got it. Her eyes widened. "Pretty tricky, yesss. It just might work, at that. Still, I'm glad you told me. The crew are going to want to wear the right apparel."

  Gillian tried to snap her fingers in the water, and failed. "Spacesuits! You're right! Tsh't, what would I do without you!"

  114 ::: Galactics

  "The side battle amongst all the remnant forces seems to have moved away from the planet," a Paha warrior reported. "They are streaming away from Kithrup, chasing a rather large vessel."

  The Soro, Krat, finished paring a ling-plum. She fought to hide the nervous tremor in her left arm.

  "Can you identify the one they pursue?"

  "It does not appear to be the quarry."

  The Paha tastefully ignored the fleet-mistress's obvious wave of relief on hearing this. "It is too large to be the Earth ship. We have tentatively identified it as a crippled Thennanin, although.. . "

  "Yes?" Krat asked archly.

  The Paha hesitated. "It behaves strangely. It is inordinately massive, and its motors seem to have a quasi-Tymbrimi tone. It is already too far to read clearly."

  Krat grunted. "What is our status?"

  "The Tandu parallel us, sniping at our flanks as we do theirs. We both chase the Earth scout. Both of us have ceased firing at the boat except when it gets too close to the other side."

  Krat growled. "This vessel leads us farther and farther from the planet -- from the true quarry. Have you contemplated a scoutship whose very purpose may have been to accomplish this?" she snapped.

  The Paha considered, then nodded. "Yes, Fleet-Mother. It would be just like a Tymbrimi or wolfling trick. What do you suggest?" '

  Krat was filled with frustration. It had to be a trick! Yet she couldn't abandon the chase, or the Tandu would capture the scoutship. And the longer the chase went on, the worse the attrition on both sides!

  She threw the plum across the room. It splattered dead center on the rayed spiral glyph of the Library. A startled Pil jumped and squeaked in dismay, then glared at her insolently.

  "Transmit Standard Truce Call Three," Krat commanded with distaste. "Contact the Tandu Stalker. We must put an end to this farce and get back to the planet at once!"

  The Tandu Stalker asked the Trainer one more time. "Can you arouse the Acceptor?"

  The Trainer knelt before the Stalker, offering its own head. "I cannot. It has entered an orgasmic state. It is over-stimulated. Operant manipulation does not achieve success."

  "Then we have no meta-physical way to investigate the strange chase behind us?"

  "We do not. We can only use physical means."

  The Stalker's legs ratcheted. "Go and remove your head. With your last volition, place it in my trophy rack."

  The Trainer rasped assent.

  "May the new one I grow serve you better."

  "Indeed. But first," the Stalker suggested, "arrange to open a talk-line with the Soro. I shall sever the leg I use to talk with them, of course. But talk to them we now must."

  Buoult bit at his elbow spikes, then used them to preen his ridgecrest. He had guessed correctly! He had taken the last six Thennanin ships out of the battle between the Tandu and Soro, and arrived at the planet in time to join a long chase. Ten ragged ships were ahead of him, chasing an object that could only dimly be made out.

  "More speed," he urged. "The others are uncoordinated. While the Tandu and Soro chase a ruse, we are the only fair-sized squadron in the vicinity! We must chase!"

  Far ahead of the Thennanin, a Gubru captain ruffled its feathers and cackled.

  "We catch up! We catch up with the lumbering thing! And look! Now that we are near, look and see that its emanations are human! They fly inside a shell, but now we are near and can look and see and catch that which is inside that shell!

  "Now we are near, and will catch them!"

  Failure was still possible, of course. But total defeat would be unpermissible.

  "If we cannot catch them," it reminded itself, "then we must make certain to destroy them."

  115 ::: Streaker

  The gas giant loomed ahead. The heavily laden Streaker lumbered toward it.

  "They'll expect
us to dive in close for a tight hyperbolic," Tsh't commented. "It's generally a good tactic when being chased in a planetary system. A quick thrusst while we're swinging near the planet can translate into a major shift in direction."

  Gillian nodded. "That's what they'll expect, but that's not what we'll do."

  They watched the screens as three large blips grew and then took form as solid figures -- ships with ugly battle-scars and uglier weapons.

  The great bulk of the planet began to intrude even as the pursuing ships grew larger.

  "Are all fen secured?"

  "Yesss!"

  "Then you choose the time, Lieutenant. You have a better feel for space battles than I. You know what we want to do."

  Tsh't clapped her jaws together. "I do, Gillian."

  They dove toward the planet.

  "Sssoon. Soon they'll be committed ...." Tsh't's eyes narrowed. She concentrated on sound images, transmitted by her neural link. The bridge was silent except for the nervous clicking of dolphin sonar. Gillian was reminded of tense situations on human ships, when half the crew would be whistling through their teeth without ever being aware of it.

  "Get-t ready," Tsh't told the engineering crew by intercom.

  The pursuing ships disappeared briefly behind the planet's limb.

  "Now!" she cried for Suessi to hear. "Open the rear locks! Activate all pumps!" She swung to the pilot. "Launch that decoy probe! Hard lateral acceleration! Apply stasis to compensate all but one g rearward! Repeat, allow one gravity rearward in the ship!"

  Half the control boards in the bridge sprouted red light. Forewarned, the crew overrode safeguards as the contents of Streaker's central bay flew out behind her into the vacuum of open space.