Counterweight (29 page)

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Authors: A. G. Claymore

Tags: #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #Adventure, #Exploration, #Military, #Space Exploration

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There was a surprised murmur just before Rick retracted his
helmet. They saw it coming, of course. “Then perhaps I should give the report,
Anatoly.” He nodded his thanks to the young engineer, returning the Russian’s
happy grin.

“But first…” He turned to Sam. “You have my family in the
brig?”

Sam jabbed an angry finger at him. “You’re a wanted man!”

“For what?” Rick retorted. “For defending myself against
five idiots who had no good reason to be skulking around a dark maintenance
corridor? For scheming to stab Ted with his
own
knife? Even if that
had
been my plan, it would have required a fair amount of criminal intent on Ted’s
part, don’t you think?” He took a sudden step forward, noting with satisfaction
that Sam had moved his own left foot back a few inches.

“And under what charge did you lock my family up?”

Sam just glared at him.

“There’s no charge, is there?” Rick nodded slightly.
“Whoever has the power makes the rules and, in this little corner of the
galaxy, that means you, doesn’t it, Sam?”

Still no answer but the angry glare was losing its certainty
in the face of Rick’s calm defiance.

“Welcome back to the Alliance, Mr. Fletcher.” Rick smiled,
then raised his voice. “Master at arms!”

“Sir?” Norm Fletcher had answered out of habit and looked
mildly disconcerted at having referred to a Heywood as
sir
.

“You will release your prisoners and conduct them here
immediately.”

“Now wait just a minute…” Norm furrowed his brow at Rick
before plodding on. “Who are you to come back here giving orders?”

“Who am I?” Rick reached over his shoulder to pull his axe
free. He hefted it, examining the decorative pattern meditatively. “I am Rick
Carrolson, Husband to Freya Augustdottir and brother to Thorstein Gunnarson.”
He looked up to Norm.

“And I’m the Midgaard warrior who’ll place your head in your
own hands if you don’t obey my orders immediately. This may be an Alliance
world now but it’s under Midgaard law and we…” he gestured to Freya, “rule this
world.”

“What he’s telling you,” Ivar called out from the middle of
the crowd, “is that you can disobey him but only if you’re willing to put him
down in a fair fight.”

The crowd parted, revealing the small group of Midgaard
who’d spent the last century and a half on 3428. Ivar led them forward,
grinning at the young Human who’d spent so much time among them.

“Welcome home, Rick Carrolson,” he boomed. “I see you’ve
done well for yourself!”

“Ivar!” Rick suddenly felt a sense of home. The Midgaard of
3428 had first-hand memory of the mutiny and of Alexander Heywood’s true role. They
didn’t waste their breath trying to stem the flood of ignorance but they were
among the few residents who treated the Heywoods with respect. “I bet you’re
eager to get off this rock?”

“You won’t find very long odds for a bet like that,” Ivar
replied cheerfully. He looked to where Norm was still standing. “I wasn’t
joking, Norm. As half the ruling couple of this world, Rick is perfectly
justified in shortening you by eight inches…”

“Ruling couple?” The deep voice was weaker than it should
have been.

Rick spun to the left, looking for the source of the voice.
Barry and Rick’s older brother, Hal, were supporting the elder Heywood as he
approached. His sister Karen followed close behind.

Carrol Heywood looked ten years older than the last time
Rick had seen him but the old man waved dismissively. “Don’t give me that
look,” he insisted. “What does Ivar
the Flatulent
mean by
ruling
couple
?”

That was Carrol Heywood – never mind the physical
restrictions; stick to what’s important. Rick still remembered retching at the
sight of his father’s severed finger on the deck of  the fusion room while
the elder Heywood calmly insisted that he shunt the main power and get a
bandage, in that specific order.

“Well, I should start by introducing your new
daughter-in-law.” Rick gestured to Freya. “This is Freya Augustdottir.”

Carrol looked at Freya. “Daughter-in-law? Young lady, is
this true?”

“It is, Goodfather,” Freya offered him an uncertain smile
and a respectful nod.

The old man brightened considerably. “All this time, I
thought my son was hiding in the jungle. I waited in dread, fearing the
announcement that he’d been captured and hanged.” He straightened up, shook
Barry and Hal loose with a nod of thanks and approached Freya.

He took her hands. “And now I learn he’s been offworld this
whole time and he certainly hasn’t been idle! You are very welcome to our
family, Freya Augustdottir!”

Rick watched in amazement as the father he thought he
already knew greeted the newest member of the family. Freya was subjected to a
steady stream of compliments and humorous nonsense and, to Rick’s surprise, she
seemed to love every second of it.

He knew family relationships were considered a tool of
Midgaard statecraft but it was strange to see his wife and father carry on like
this in front of everyone. This was part of the reason she’d married him. She
didn’t just come here as a conqueror – she had family here and she was making
sure everyone knew it.

Barry sidled over. “They had him on half rations,” he told
Rick. “Probably trying to force him into handing over the family secrets. I
doubt he would have cracked but it sounds like Hal and Karen were on the edge.
I would too, if they were starving my dad…”

A young ordinance tech brought a short bench and Freya
joined Carrol on it, their conversation not skipping a beat. At this point,
Rick was starting to think his father had actually talked more with Freya than
he
had.

“Thanks for looking out for him.”

Barry shrugged. “I snuck him a few morsels, made sure he
didn’t get roughed up. Nothing you wouldn’t have done in my place.”

“He could have died,” Rick insisted, “so you saved your
uncle Sam as well as my dad.”

A nod. “What will you do with Sam?”

“We’d planned on leaving him in charge, but…” He gestured at
his weakened father. “Locking my family up without just cause? I never thought
he’d go that far.”

“You gonna throw him in the clink?”

Rick sighed. “I’d love to but I’d be no better than
him
if
I give that order. I’m not going to lock him up for locking my family up. He’s
just the poor dumb idiot left standing when the music ended.”

“Maybe,” Barry answered noncommittally, “but enough about
him. How the hell did you end up married to a high-born Midgaard shieldmaiden?”
He grinned. “Blackmail? Maybe you kidnapped her father?”

“Think you’re funny, huh?” Rick’s expression went blank.
“Well, it’s going to cost you.”

“Huh?”

“Sam’s gonna get busted to ordinary crewman, which works
out, seeing as he’s living in flag quarters, rather than the captain’s cabin.
We need somewhere to stay, when we’re on the surface…”

“So, how’s that gonna impact me?”

“You were always pegged as his next-in-line. He even put you
and Tess in the captain’s quarters…”

Barry squinted at his friend. “You’re gonna be the captain,
though, right?”

“I’m a grease monkey, not a bridge officer.” Rick waved off
the idea. “And besides, I’m going to be too busy to fiddle around with running
the ship…”

“Now, hold on just a damned second…”

The crowd murmured in shock.

“Captain Sam Fletcher,” Rick cut Barry off, “you are
relieved of duty. Please consult with the purser’s office about obtaining new
quarters.” He ignored the crowd but he did catch the nod of approval from his
bride before he turned to face Barry.

“Barry Fletcher, by the authority vested in me by the
Alliance, I declare you captain of the
Guadalcanal.
” He had no idea what
sort of ceremony should have accompanied the transition but he didn’t much
care. He needed a new captain and it had to be someone the residents of 3428
would accept.

If he attempted to take the command for himself, too many of
the Humans would have found ways to sabotage him. Old habits died hard and it
would take time for these people to lose their mistrust of the Heywoods.

Barry was acceptable to the ship’s denizens and, more importantly,
he was acceptable to Rick. With that out of the way he could turn his attention
to…


Stand by, Freya, linking to Rick now.”
Even though
Rick saw the call coming, Captain Flemming’s voice raised the hairs on the back
of his neck. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to his new implant.

He was intrigued by the quantum tunneling technology that
carried
the signal but hearing voices in your head was always cause for concern.

“Rick, you there?” Flemming, the Alliance’s leading
intelligence officer, had given up on voice procedure decades ago. He preferred
a more personal approach with his agents, knowing they were far from home and
surrounded by the enemy.

Even forces on irregular operations, like the team seizing
3428, were contacted in his trademark casual style. Freya had helped him
several times, inserting or retrieving agents with her stealthy little scout
ship and they were familiar with each other.

“I’m here, Captain.” Rick replied, shaking his head and
holding up a palm to let Barry know he wasn’t talking to him. He would need a
lot more practice before he would be able to sub-vocalize effectively. For now,
everyone nearby would be able to hear what he was saying.

“Chaco Benthic just went critical,” Flemming advised them.
“It happened just after you left.”

“So you need a pick-up, Lanc?” Freya asked.

“Bit of a sticky wicket, I’m afraid.” Flemming paused. “It
seems we have a small party of Oudtstoners waiting at the top of the tether and
it’s the only way out of the city, as I’m sure you’ll recall.”

“I do,” Rick replied. “You’d like your man brought out, all
the same?”

“Well, I would but I haven’t been able to raise him since he
called for support.”

“Wait!” Rick looked over to Freya. “Support?”

“That sounds very different from
extraction
,” Freya pointed
out.

Flemming sighed. “I’m afraid our man on the scene has gone
native on us. He thinks we should just keep the place for ourselves.”

“It would make a good staging area for patrols,” Freya
mused, “but we don’t have a very large force with us.” She suddenly stood.
“Those mercenaries we told you about – did they show up?”

“Haven’t heard of them but our man might have someone on the
station so…”

She looked at Rick, eyes shining. “If any of those ships
made it, we can seize one as part of the mission!”

Rick was planning to surprise his bride anyway and this
seemed a perfect moment. She was hoping to take a ship, making them haulds, but
3428 was only held by them in Shelby’s name. They still needed a fief to
support their ships.

The eight volunteer captains would continue to serve them if
they achieved that coveted status – it was implied in the oaths they’d given on
Veithfar.  They would become councillors, the first step on the way to
making their own names in time.

But first they needed a tenth ship. Freya, herself, was the
ninth captain. They only needed one more.

And they had just seized 3428 and everything on it.

He grinned. “If we take ten ships to Benthic, we can keep
the world for ourselves!”

“This thing?” Freya had the presence of mind to sub-vocalize
her disbelief.

“My ancestor was less than forthcoming with the mutineers
when he agreed to scuttle the distortion drives.” He looked at Barry. “Captain,
put the crew on full combat watches immediately, if you please.”

Barry’s mouth hung open for several seconds. “Rick…”

“Trust me, Barry.” Rick gave him a confident grin. “Sandy
Heywood didn’t like the idea of burning our bridges, so he kept the distortion
drive intact. He just made it
look
like a pile of junk to keep the rest
of the crew happy.”

“But the hull, the shielding…”

“Don’t worry about that; just get everybody to their
stations.”

“Rick,” Flemming cut in, “Do you really think you can get
her back into the black? Even if she jumps, she’ll have a very green crew.”

The residents of the lost ship had held on to their military
traditions, keeping their training up over the generations. There was no
shortage of crew with the technical knowledge. He was counting on their
pre-cognitive abilities to help make up for their lack in
actual
experience.

“Green,” he admitted, “but they can see what’s coming before
it happens. Just the ship’s presence alone will scare any enemy we encounter.”

“Not a discussion, Lanc.” Freya’s tone brooked no argument.
She worked
with
Flemming, not
for
him. “You know what this
means.”

“As you wish, my dear,” he conceded. “Stop ten minutes out
and check in? I might hear something in the meantime.”

“Will do.”

“Hal,” Rick moved over to his brother standing next to
Carrol’s bench. He saw a glint running down his father’s face and had to fight
to keep his voice steady. “Let’s get to the engine room. The crew of the
Guadalcanal
is going to redeem themselves.”

 

Breathing
Room

Tsekoh, Capital of Chaco Benthic

A
maintenance worker was waiting at the head of a small group as Cal and Korlaith
approached. “Nothing since they closed the doors.” He waved at the massive
titanium portal separating the company offices from the rest of the city.

“And that’s the only part of the city that’s still getting
air?” Cal came to a halt in front of the Krorian maintenance tech.

A nod. “The shunts run from the atmo cyclers down on the
bottom levels to all parts of the city. They shrink as they branch off but…” He
pointed at the doors. “That area has its own dedicated shunt. They designed
this city so they could hide in there and just kill us all.”

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