Mutiny (20 page)

"Not to me, he isn't, sir," said Chadwick. He turned back to Cole. "Are you ready to return to your quarters, Commander?"

"You mean my cell."

"Yes, Commander."

"Yeah, let's go. It's somehow homier than the conference room."

As they walked along the corridor, Cole looked for weak spots in the building's defenses. He didn't expect to find any, and besides he was sure he'd be transferred in a few days, but he decided that he'd better get in the habit of looking for potential escape routes.

When they reached his cell, Chadwick deactivated the force field to let him pass through.

"I feel terrible about this, sir," he said.

"Yeah, I know," replied Cole. "Everyone feels terrible about it, and no one does anything about it."

"That's not fair, sir. I'm just a Security guard. What could I do?"

"Short of setting me free, not a damned thing," admitted Cole. He entered the cell. "It still feels a little small. I guess I'm going to have to learn to live with claustrophobia."

The force field hummed to life, and Cole lay down on his narrow, uncomfortable cot, dwelling on the realization that he'd spent his entire adult life in the unquestioning service of a military that could do this to him.

The room began to feel more cramped.

Cole felt a hand on his shoulder. He tried to ignore it, but it kept shaking him gently.

"Wake up, sir," said a soft male voice.

Cole opened one eye. "What time is it?"

"It's the middle of the night, sir," said Chadwick. "Please get to your feet, and try not to make any noise."

Cole stood up. "They
must
be anticipating a lynch mob if you're transferring me at this time of day."

"Follow me, sir, and please be as quiet as you can."

Chadwick killed the force field, and Cole followed him out into the corridor that led past the other holding cells, about half of which were empty. When they came to the fork that led to the conference room, Chadwick motioned him to stand still. Then the sergeant looked out cautiously, determined that the right-hand corridor was empty, and led him down it. As they came to a large, well-lit room, Chadwick stopped and whispered to Cole.

"Wait until you hear me talking to them, then walk past as quickly and silently as you can."

I'm in a cell block on a military base
, thought Cole, confused.
Just how the hell much danger can I be in?
Nevertheless, he decided his best bet was to obey Chadwick's instructions.

The sergeant entered the room and was greeted by a number of voices.

"Hi, Luthor," said one. "You're working late tonight."

"You bucking for lieutenant, or is this extra duty for oversleeping the other day?" asked another.

"A little of each," said Chadwick easily He continued bantering with them, and after about a minute Cole quietly walked past the door. He glanced in, saw that it was a staff room, and that Chadwick was at the far end of it, holding forth on some sports figure so that all eyes were trained on him and no one was watching the doorway.

Cole walked about fifteen feet past the room, then stopped and waited. Chadwick emerged in another thirty seconds, walked past Cole without a word, and motioned him to follow. They soon came to an exit and walked through. There was an aircar waiting for them.

"Get in, Commander," said Chadwick.

Cole entered the vehicle, and Chadwick joined him a moment later.

"Where are we going?" asked Cole.

"Not far."

"Off the base?"

"Eventually."

Cole gave up trying to extract information from Chadwick and settled back on his seat. Within a handful of minutes they had reached the military spaceport, and after Chadwick saluted the guards at the gate and presented some coded disks they were passed through.

The aircar glided past a number of ships and finally pulled up to a shuttlecraft that bore the name
Kermit.

"Get out now, sir," said Chadwick.

Pampas was standing next to the hatch. "Welcome back, sir," he said, saluting.

"What the hell's going on, Sergeant?" said Cole. "I thought you were saving me from a mob?"

"You were half right, sir," said Chadwick. "We're saving you."

"Please board the shuttle, sir," said Pampas urgently. "I don't know how much time we've got."

"Did Colonel Blacksmith inform you of our agreement?" asked Chadwick, who had also gotten out of the aircar.

"Yes, she did," said Pampas. "Please accompany the Commander onto the shuttlecraft."

As soon as they were aboard Pampas ordered the shuttle to take off. Within half a minute a voice came over the radio, demanding that they return to the planet.

"Didn't take them long to notice, did it?" remarked Pampas.

Suddenly the ship's defense mechanisms were activated.

"Well, that was either a warning shot across our bow or they're trying to blow us out of the sky," said Pampas.

"Perhaps we might go a little faster," suggested Chadwick uneasily.

"As soon as we clear the stratosphere," answered Pampas. "If I go to light speeds before then, we'll burn up from the friction." He looked at the computer. "Another shot. I think they're getting really annoyed with us."

"How soon before we're in the stratosphere?" asked Cole.

"About ten seconds, sir," said Pampas.

It was the longest ten seconds of Cole's life, but finally they cleared the layer and went to light speeds.

"Now will one of you tell me exactly what's going on?" said Cole.

"I think it should be obvious, sir," said Pampas. He braked to sub-light speed and pointed to the screen, where the
Teddy R
floated motionless in space. "Welcome home, sir. Your ship awaits you."

"Do you realize how many laws you've just broken?" said Cole.

"Any law that puts you in jail and lets Podok go free needs to be broken, sir," said Chadwick.

"Why are
you
doing this?" asked Cole. "You're not even a member of the crew."

"Wrong, sir," said Pampas. "He's our new Assistant Chief of Security."

"If that was your price, you should have taken money instead," said Cole, as the shuttle docked alongside the mother ship.

Forrice was waiting for them at the hatch.

"Good to have you back,
Captain,"
he said, emphasizing the word. "We haven't had much excitement around here the last few days."

"That's due to change any second now," said Cole. "Is the pilot with the weird name still onboard?"

"Yes."

"Tell him to get us out of here
now!"
said Cole.

"Where to?" asked the Molarian.

"Wherever the Republic isn't."

"That sounds like the Inner Frontier to me."

"That'll do."

Forrice passed the word to the bridge.

"I assume everyone who's a party to this understands that once we're there, we can never come back," said Cole.

"Who wants to?" said a familiar voice. "We're on the
Teddy R
because we're troublemakers and malcontents, remember?"

He turned and found himself staring at Sharon Blacksmith. "I suspect this was your idea," he said.

"We took a vote."

"Was it close?"

"It was unanimous," she said. Suddenly she grinned. "Well, it was unanimous after we set all the dissenters down on Willowby IV."

"How many crew members do we have left?"

"Counting officers, thirty-two. But the Bedalian left the ship, so we're going to have to pick up a doctor along the way."

"How about Lieutenant Mboya?"

"Still here."

"And Slick?"

"He's here, too. And before you ask, so is Lieutenant Marcos, who still hyperventilates at the mention of your name. I'll give you a full list once it's clear that we're going to survive long enough for you to read it."

"Bridge!" said Cole, raising his voice. "This is Commander ..." He stopped. "This is the Captain speaking. Are there any signs of pursuit?"

"Not yet, sir," answered Briggs.

"Let me know if the situation changes."

"Yes, sir."

He turned back to Sharon. "I can't believe that you all abandoned your careers for
me."

"The way we look at it, the Navy abandoned
us"
she replied. "We may not have a full crew, but every member of it has been willing to leave behind everything they ever knew in order to serve with you. I think that says a little something about them." She stared at him, her eyes bright. "And I think it says even more about their Captain."

They sped past Binder X, past Walpurgis III, past Keepsake and Peponi and New Rhodesia, racing deeper and deeper into the Inner Frontier. Cole finally brought the ship to a halt around Nearco II, an uninhabited water world.

"It's been six full days with no sign of pursuit," he said to Forrice. "I think we're safe."

"We're also rudderless," said the Molarian.

"Rudderless?"

"A military ship with no war to fight," explained Forrice. "I'd call that rudderless."

"I've been thinking about that," admitted Cole. "And I believe I've found us a purpose."

"Which I'm sure you'll tell me in the fullness of time," said Forrice sardonically.

"You'll figure it out," said Cole. "In the meantime, since we're not a military ship any longer, I think the first thing we'd better do is get rid of all the Republic insignia from the exterior of the ship."

"We can't land on a water world to do it," said Forrice. "I'll look for the closest oxygen planet."

"That won't be necessary," replied Cole. "We've got a crew member who's uniquely suited to working in the airless cold of space."

Forrice looked at him suspiciously. "Are you saying that you've already designed a new insignia?"

"Well, new to us, anyway," said Cole. "Tell Slick that wherever he sees the Republic insignia on the exterior of the ship, I want it replaced with a skull and crossbones."

"What does a skull and crossbones signify?"

"I can see your education has been sadly lacking," said Cole. "It's the time-honored emblem of the pirate ship."

Forrice simply stared at him.

"In all likelihood we're going to be out here the rest of our lives," explained Cole. "We've got to make a living. You wanted a rudder; now you've got one."

Suddenly the Molarian filled the bridge with hoots of alien laughter. "I'll say this much: serving with you has been many things good and bad, but it has
never
been dull!"

"That's what you get for living in interesting times," said the new Captain of the
Teddy R.

 The Origin Of the Birthright Universe

It happened in the 1970s. Carol and I were watching a truly awful movie at a local theater, and about halfway through it I muttered, "Why am I wasting my time here when I could be doing something really interesting, like, say, writing the entire history of the human race from now until its extinction?" And she whispered back, "So why don't you?" We got up immediately, walked out of the theater, and that night I outlined a novel called
Birthright: The Book of Man,
which would tell the story of the human race from its attainment of faster-than-light flight until its death eighteen thousand years from now.

It was a long book to write. I divided the future into five political eras-—Republic, Democracy, Oligarchy, Monarchy, and Anarchy—and wrote twenty-six connected stories ("demonstrations,"
Analog
called them, and rightly so), displaying every facet of the human race, both admirable and not so admirable. Since each is set a few centuries from the last, there are no continuing characters (unless you consider Man, with a capital
M,
the main character, in which case you could make an argument—or at least, I could—that it's really a character study).

I sold it to Signet, along with another novel, titled
The Soul Eater.
My editor there, Sheila Gilbert, loved the Birthright Universe and asked me if I would be willing to make a few changes to
The Soul Eater
so that it was set in that future. I agreed, and the changes actually took less than a day. She made the same request—in advance, this time—for the four-book Tales of the Galactic Midway series, the four-book Tales of the Velvet Comet series, and
Walpurgis III.
Looking back, I see that only two of the thirteen novels I wrote for Signet were
not
set there.

When I moved to Tor Books, my editor there, Beth Meacham, had a fondness for the Birthright Universe, and most of my books for her— not all, but most—were set in it:
Santiago, Ivory, Paradise, Purgatory, Inferno, A Miracle of Rare Design, A Hunger in the Soul, The Outpost,
and
The Return of Santiago.

When Ace agreed to buy
Soothsayer, Oracle
, and
Prophet
from me, my editor, Ginjer Buchanan, assumed that of course they'd be set in the Birthright Universe—and of course they were, because as I learned a little more about my eighteen-thousand-year, two-million-world future, I felt a lot more comfortable writing about it.

In fact, I started setting short stories in the Birthright Universe. Two of my Hugo winners—"Seven Views of Olduvai Gorge" and "The 43 Antarean Dynasties"—are set there, and so are perhaps fifteen others.

When Bantam agreed to take the Widowmaker trilogy from me, it was a foregone conclusion that Janna Silverstein, who purchased the books but had moved to another company before they came out, would want them to take place in the Birthright Universe. She did indeed request it, and I did indeed agree.

I recently handed in a book to Meisha Merlin, set—where else?— in the Birthright Universe.

And when it came time to suggest a series of books to Lou Anders for the new Pyr line of science fiction, I don't think I ever considered any ideas or stories that
weren't
set in the Birthright Universe.

I've gotten so much of my career from the Birthright Universe that I wish I could remember the name of that turkey we walked out of all those years ago so I could write the producers and thank them.