Galactic Bounty (20 page)

"There are some more questions I'd like to ask you," McCade said, "but this hardly seems like the time or the place. Pick up that head you're so fond of, and show us a safe way out of here. And by the way, if anything goes wrong, I'm gonna make sure you're the first to go."

Van Doren grinned his agreement as he stripped off his jacket and handed it to her. Laurie quickly wrapped Mungo's head in it and moved toward the opposite wall.

"I won't give you any trouble," she said. "I've got as much reason to want off this crud ball as you do." She palmed the wall.

With a slight hiss of equalizing air pressures, a panel slid aside to reveal a narrow flight of stairs leading down. As she stepped through, McCade was close behind. As they started down the steps, McCade noticed the same dampness they'd experienced coming down from the surface. From the look of it, the passageway hadn't been used for a long time. The ancient lum lights embedded in the walls cast barely enough light to show the way.

Behind him Van Doren and Sara followed, their boots clattering on the metal stairs. As they continued to descend, McCade noticed intermittent vibrations strong enough to set up a sympathetic hum in the handrail.

Ahead of him, Laurie turned a corner. As he followed he saw that the tunnel opened up into a small bay which reeked of mold and decay. The pools of stagnant water and piles of unidentifiable debris made a marked contrast to the sleek bullet shape of the empty transcar sitting beside the platform. Beyond it a short stretch of gleaming monorail reached out to join the main line which passed by outside.

Again McCade felt the vibration he'd noticed earlier. It was stronger this time. A second later a transcar flashed by with a whoosh of displaced air. It was doing more than a hundred miles an hour. Not bad for a back way out, McCade reflected. Mungo had left nothing to chance.

The transcar had been designed only for two, so the four of them were a tight fit. But after some struggle, and some profanity from Van Doren, they were all in. Laurie touched a destination on the map display and the transcar slid smoothly into motion.

Moments later they had joined the main line and now began to accelerate. Outside, the tunnel walls moved by with increasing speed until finally they became a blur. What seemed like only moments later the transcar began to slow, finally coming to a stop in a large terminal filled to overflowing with milling travelers.

One by one they struggled out of the car. As soon as they were all clear, the transcar moved away from the platform, picked up speed, and then disappeared into a tunnel.

As far as McCade could tell, they weren't under surveillance of any kind. People swirled around them, all seemingly intent on their own errands. After considerable twisting and turning through the crowd, they arrived at a turnstile. McCade slid the metal card into the appropriate slot until all had passed. Moments later they were aboard another sleek transcar and accelerating away from the station.

Laurie sat across from McCade, her features calm and composed, providing no hint that the untidy bundle on her lap contained a man's head. She seemed different somehow, but perhaps that other Laurie had never really existed outside his hopes and desires.

Both Sara and Van Doren stared out the windows at the tunnel walls and the occasional stations that they raced by. Together the four of them formed an island of silence in the sea of chattering passengers.

When the transcar slowed to a stop they followed Laurie off. Moments later they were packed into a crowded lift tube, heading for the surface. When the platform came to a stop, doors slid aside.

McCade instantly recognized the shiny black surface of the spaceport, the guard towers and the hundreds of ships which pointed up toward the night sky. As their fellow passengers streamed off in every direction, they started off toward the guard tower nearest to the
Far Trader.
They had gone only a couple of feet when suddenly a circle of glaring white light snapped into existence, pinning them against the black rock. Then came a voice that rolled like thunder and reverberated off the ranks of ships. It belonged to Marvin Wong. McCade should have been surprised, but somehow wasn't. Hadn't Wong said that all is not always what it seems? Anyway, the fact that the Brotherhood had been on to Mungo through a double agent wasn't too surprising either. McCade suddenly realized that the Brotherhood had simply allowed Mungo to do all the work for them. And if it hadn't been for Laurie's intervention, it would have worked.

"McCade . . . McCade . . . McCade . . ." Wong's voice echoed off the surrounding ships. "Stand where you are or die . . . die . . . die . . . You are under arrest by order of . . ."

McCade didn't wait around to hear the rest. Instead he aimed a quick blaster bolt toward the top of the nearest guard tower, hoping to momentarily ruin the sentry's night vision. But as he dived out of the circle of light, he realized they could probably use infrared sighting devices. Of course, with so many heat sources around in the form of people and ships, infrared would cut both ways.

Rolling up out of the somersault, McCade found time to wonder how they had been tracked. Mungo's men had taken the bugged slug gun from him, so it wasn't that. Then he knew. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the metal credit card. It twinkled with reflected light as he threw it as far as he could. As it landed, an energy beam leaped down from the tower to obliterate it. The others had formed up beside him.

Yelling to be heard over the confused shouting and an alarm klaxon, he said. "Let's add to the confusion!"

By way of demonstration, he snapped random shots at nearby ships and rolled away. The shots were quickly returned, with interest, by crew members of those vessels. They had no idea who was firing on them or why, but they weren't about to just sit there and take it.

The others quickly followed his example and within seconds a number of lively firefights developed between neighboring ships. Confused and frightened for the safety of their vessels, some captains opened fire on nearby guard towers with heavy ship's weapons, quickly reducing them to red-hot scrap metal. Other towers immediately retaliated, their energy weapons cutting down entire rows of ships like scythes harvesting wheat. Under the cover of the resulting total confusion, the four raced toward the
Far Trader,
only to see it vanish in a blinding explosion as a neighboring vessel began to fire randomly in every direction.

"
Pegasus
"
Laurie shouted. "She's over there!"

They all veered to follow Laurie, dodging between ships and ground vehicles, using what cover they could, and occasionally shooting back when fired on. As he ran McCade felt the ground begin to tremble under his feet. Ship after ship was lifting on emergency power to escape the destruction now raging from one end of the spaceport to the other. They gave the remaining ships between them and
Pegasus
a wide berth to avoid being accidentally killed by someone's launch. Paranoid even at the best of times, both smugglers and pirates were giving free rein to their imaginations, and it was every being for itself.

Panting heavily Laurie reached
Pegasus
and palmed the main entry port. One after another they tumbled into the lock and waited impatiently for the inner hatch to cycle open. As they scrambled through, McCade yelled, "Prepare for emergency lift at full boost. Activate all weapons systems and strap in!"

He ran for the control room, palming the control lock as he slid into the command chair. He noted with satisfaction that Laurie hadn't bothered to de-authorize him. As bank after bank of indicators came to life, he routinely scanned each. Everything looked good. As his fingers danced nimbly among the controls, the outside viewscreens came to life. He felt Laurie slide into the position beside him. Her presence reminded him of how things had been before planetfall on Weller's World. The memory both pleased and annoyed him.

"All systems operational," Laurie said with calm professionalism.

"Prepare for emergency lift," McCade replied. "Lift." With that he turned the large red knob over his head one rotation to the right and pushed it in.

The ship shuddered violently as her engines built thrust. McCade had one last second to survey the madness that had consumed the spaceport. Everywhere energy weapons and slug throwers spewed death and destruction. It couldn't happen to a nicer group of folks, McCade thought wryly. Then the ship's defensive screens flared as they took a direct hit. A fraction of a second later,
Pegasus
blasted off under full emergency power. McCade blacked out momentarily.

As they cleared atmosphere, his vision cleared and he felt the terrible weight come off his chest. Flicking the rear screens on, he saw pinpoints of light as more ships followed him into space. Whether they were following or just trying to escape, he couldn't tell. Switching the forward screens to high mag he was momentarily blinded by the explosion as a nuclear torpedo hit one of the fleeing vessels. At first he couldn't understand why, but as his vision returned he saw all too clearly. Most of the escaping ships had lifted without the one-way pass necessary to get by the weapons platforms which still guarded the approaches to the Rock. The platforms were doing a very efficient job.

As they got closer, McCade watched in fascination as ship after ship was snuffed out of existence, like so many moths attracted to an open flame. Then it suddenly stopped.

A group of ships formed a temporary alliance and together they attacked one of the platforms. Some of the ships were destroyed in the process, but by virtue of sheer massed firepower, they won. As the weapons platform flashed incandescent, the alliance broke and the survivors fled through the gap they'd created and headed for safer regions. Every other ship within one light realized what had happened and headed in that direction to take advantage of the newly created escape route.
Pegasus
was no exception.

"Uh-oh. Looks like we got company, boss. And I don't remember sending out any invitations." Van Doren had again chosen the top blister as his battle station.

Sara had ensconced herself in the rear weapons turret. Her voice came over the intercom loud and clear. "He's right, Sam. There's two of them closing fast. I don't think they're friendlies. Pirate destroyers by the looks of them."

McCade confirmed her guess by switching on the rear screens and boosting them to high mag. It didn't look good. Options and strategies flashed through his mind in quick succession. He tapped a request into the ship's computer asking for advice. The reply was immediate and to the point, delivered by the now-familiar voice.

"Surrender immediately. The pursuing vessels have overwhelmingly superior firepower and speed. They will destroy
Pegasus
approximately 10.5 seconds after initial engagement."

"Good. I was afraid we might be in trouble," McCade said. He met Laurie's concerned gaze with what he hoped was a nonchalant smile.

"Stand by for sudden deceleration followed by enemy action," McCade said. "Five from now. Five, four, three, two, one." With a quick flick of the wrist, he cut the power by half and felt himself thrown forward against his harness.

The two pirate ships seemed to surge forward as if by magic, splitting to position themselves on each side, placing
Pegasus
in a cross fire. McCade forced himself to wait, hoping they would interpret the sudden cut in speed as a sign of cooperation. Evidently they did, because as they drew abreast of
Pegasus
they didn't open fire. Of course it could be just an effort to capture someone alive. Or some
thing
dead, he corrected himself, thinking of Mungo's head now resting on the top shelf of the galley refrigeration unit.

Finally both ships were level with
Pegasus.
"Fire!" McCade yelled into the intercom as all the weapons that could be brought to bear fired in unison. Both destroyers were suddenly bathed in fire. Neither was in any danger. Their defensive screens were much more powerful than anything
Pegasus
could hope to equal. So when they fired in reply, they did so with the care and precision of someone who is invulnerable.

And stupid. For as they opened fire, McCade punched full emergency power again, bringing the already hot tubes to the very edge of burnout, and setting off a host of alarm buzzers and flashing lights. But McCade was deaf to the ship's protests as he watched the rear screens with the fascination born of extreme fear.

Without
Pegasus
between them to shoot at, the destroyers were suddenly shooting at each other. And before human hands and tongues could intervene, the battle computer on each vessel used part of a second to reevaluate the source of the incoming fire, the strength of the opposing defensive screens, and initiate appropriate countermeasures. A second later one destroyer vanished in a brilliant explosion and the other suddenly slowed and then stopped, apparently the victim of a damaged propulsion system.

With a groan of relief, McCade slumped back in his chair, cutting the emergency power as he did so. As the cacophony of warning buzzers and klaxons slowly died away, the computer's dulcet tones flooded the intercom. McCade would have sworn there was an edge of criticism under the apparently neutral words.

"Recent damage to this ship and its operating systems, due to actions taken under manual override, necessitate docking at a class C or better maintenance facility within the next one hundred hours of operation. The bar is open."

Sara and Van Doren's laughter echoed his own as he punched in a course for Alice, handed over control to the ship's computer, and headed for the lounge, where he intended to order a double, no a triple, Scotch. He didn't see Laurie cancel the course for Alice and enter a new set of coordinates into the computer, or hear as she selected a certain ship-to-ship radio frequency and made contact with the massive battleship some distance away.

Instead he was seated in the lounge, watching as Sara carefully applied a salve and bandages to Van Doren's burned wrists, while the marine pretended it didn't hurt. Moments later Laurie joined them. Then, when everyone had settled down to their favorite refreshments, McCade proposed a toast.