Rebel (17 page)

Dozhin accompanied Cole into the small city. It was typical of the kind of municipality that had evolved on colony worlds, which is to say, there seemed to be almost no city planning at all. Originally there'd been some houses—usually geodesic domes—and eventually a general store, then a bank, then a bigger more modern store, then a vehicle shop, a farm supply shop, and before long everything you would expect in such a city: restaurants, hotels, entertainments, specialty stores— but none of them in any order. The original domes still stood, and businesses had been built wherever there was an inviting piece of terrain. Roads zigged and zagged, tall buildings mingled with single-level dwellings, and though Cole knew there had to be a small spaceport he couldn't spot it.

"What's the name of this place?" he asked as they approached the city.

"Piccoli III," said Dozhin.

"I mean the town."

"Bloom."

"I don't see any flowers in bloom," said Cole.

"Bloom was the name of the first settler," explained Dozhin. "Actually, legend has it that it was Bloomenstein, but when he started painting his name on the feed and grain store he opened, he used such big letters that he realized he couldn't fit them all on the sign, and rather than make another one, he simply changed his name to Bloom."

"Sounds more like the way people change names on the Inner Frontier."

"Eventually he moved there."

"And what's the name of the man we're going to meet?" asked Cole.

"Lafferty."

"Has he got a first name?"

"Probably," said Dozhin. "Unless it has atrophied from lack of use."

"Where is he located?"

"There is a very small bookstore about a quarter mile from here."

"Did you say a
book
store?"

"Books, tapes, disks, cubes, holos. Very few books, actually, but collectors come from all over the sector and beyond just to buy them."

"I think I'll get along just fine with him," said Cole.

"No you won't," said Dozhin. "Nobody does."

"I will."

They walked the rest of the way in silence and arrived at a tiny shop, barely twenty feet on a side. The place was empty, and Cole began examining the stock while Dozhin simply took a position just inside the door. There were perhaps thirty books in a heavily protected case, while the rest of the place was given over to more common entertainments.

He was still looking at the case when a voice said, "May I help you?"

"I'm looking for a first edition
o£ Pride and Prejudice,"
replied Cole.

"You and ten thousand others," said a wiry, grizzled man with a thick shock of white hair. "How many planets are you willing to spend on it?"

"Then how about the original limited edition of
Seven Pillars of Wisdom?"

"Why don't you just ask for something easy, like a kingdom of your own?"

"All right," said Cole. "I'll ask for something easy: passage to the Inner Frontier so I can return to my ship."

The old man's eyes opened wide as he studied Cole carefully. "Was the namesake of your ship an author too?"

"Among other things."

"I've heard a lot about you, Wilson Cole."

"And I've heard very little about you, Mr. Lafferty."

"What makes you think I can help you?" said Lafferty.

"Dozhin isn't a what, he's a who," replied Cole.

"I am not enamored of word games," said the old man. "What makes you think I would be interested in helping a convicted mutineer?"

"Because neither of us has any love for the Republic."

"I despise its treatment of aliens," said Lafferty. "Suppose you tell me why I should help a man who mutinied against an alien captain of his ship?"

"We were stationed in the Cassius Cluster . . ." began Cole.

"Never heard of it," interrupted Lafferty.

"You have that in common with most of the Republic," said Cole. "It only had a handful of inhabited planets, and only two with major populations. Each of those two was a major fuel dump. We were under orders not to let the Teronis get their hands on either of them." The muscles in Cole's jaw tightened as he recalled the situation. "We were the only Republic ship in the whole damned star cluster, and suddenly the Fifth Teroni Fleet showed up, all of them armed to the teeth. My captain, a Polonoi named Podok, took our orders to mean that under no circumstances could we let the Teronis appropriate the fuel. There-was no way we could stand against more than two hundred Teroni class-M warships, so she turned our weaponry on one of the planets

We blew up the fuel dump, but we also killed almost three million inhabitants. It was her intention to do the same to the other planet, which housed almost five million men. I took over command and told Commander Jacovic, who was leading the fleet, that he could have the fuel if he promised not to harm the populace and to give us safe passage out of the cluster. He did, and that was that."

"You should have gotten a medal, not a court-martial," commented Lafferty after a moment.

"I thought so too," said Cole wryly. "But Podok went to the press, and they ran with the story about a human mutinying against an alien who had come up through the ranks, and at that point it became obvious that if I'd been found innocent, let alone been commended, there'd have been riots all the hell over the Republic. I was never going to get a fair trial, so my crew broke me out of jail and we headed off to the Inner Frontier."

"That does put a new light on it," said Lafferty.

"So will you help me?" asked Cole.

"That depends."

"On what?"

"I need a quid pro quo," said Lafferty.

"I don't follow you."

"We'll help you if you help us."

"Who is 'us'?" asked Cole.

Lafferty turned to the alien. "Dozhin, you can stay here and listen, or go outside and pretend you don't know what's going on. Either way, if what I'm about to say gets out, you won't live an hour."

"I will stay," said Dozhin.

"Do you want to lock up the store first?" asked Cole.

"Everyone saw you come in. Why draw attention by pretending you didn't?"

"Whatever you say," said Cole, who was deciding that the old man was a pretty sharp customer.

"All right, Mr. Cole," said Lafferty. "You and I have one thing in common: Neither of us has any use for the Republic. I don't know what you're doing here, but I can hazard a guess. You represent a warship . . ."

"I represent more than four hundred ships," interjected Cole.

"Better and better. I speak for cells that have sprung up on dozens of worlds. Our goal is to overthrow the Republic."

"Forget it," said Cole. "You have a few dozen cells, they have a few million ships."

"You have to start somewhere," said Lafferty. "In fact, now that I know the facts, I think a case can be made that you fired the first shot by
not
firing a shot."

"I'm not a revolutionary," said Cole. "I'm a mutineer with a price on his head."

"So was Robin Hood."

"Robin Hood was a fairy tale. I've got four hundred ships, of which no more than twenty qualify as warships, and maybe two thousand men that I will not sacrifice on a principle or for a noble cause. Our job is to survive, not to make a bold statement on the way to the grave."

"We've got to get rid of the Republic," insisted Lafferty. "It had its uses, and even its noble causes, when it was created, but it's become increasingly repressive and corrupt."

"You don't want to get rid of it," said Cole firmly. "The Navy is the only thing standing between you and the Teroni Fleet."

"What makes you think one is any worse than the other?"

"The Republic's not going to demand retribution for all the men you killed and the ships you destroyed. I wouldn't bet on the Teronis doing the same—and they've been stockpiling losses for a quarter of a century."

"All right," said Lafferty. "You say you don't want to overthrow the Republic. You're not a thief, so what the hell are you doing, sneaking into the Republic?"

"I'm not trying to overthrow it," said Cole, "but I damned well aim to keep it out of the Inner Frontier. It has no authority there, it has no business there, and its presence will no longer be tolerated there."

"Ah!" said Lafferty with a smile. "I think we can do business after all."

Cole looked at him expectantly. "Well?" he said at last.

"I can probably put another four to five hundred ships at your disposal, as well as a constant stream of information not only from observation posts within the Republic, but also from certain covert agents—I cannot reveal their names—who are actually in the Navy."

"And just how many quarts of blood do you want in exchange?" asked Cole suspiciously.

"None at all," replied Lafferty.

"Right," said Cole. "You're doing it out of the goodness of your heart."

"No. I'm doing it because if you won't attack the Navy
here,
the next best thing is to attack it
there."

"The Republic's at war. Maybe you ought to give a little thought to who your
real
enemy is."

"Don't preach to me," said Lafferty. "I just heard your story, and as far as I can see,
your
real enemies were the captain of a Republic warship and the free press."

Cole was about to offer a heated reply, but suddenly he stopped and shrugged. "All right, you old bastard, you have a point. We'll each choose our own enemies and stop arguing about it."

The old man grinned and reached out a gnarled hand, which Cole shook.

"I'll take you to the spaceport," said Lafferty. "You can borrow my ship and pilot."

"Sounds good," he said.

Lafferty led him and Dozhin to a large vehicle. "Climb in. Dozhin's my driver when he's not nagging robot farmhands."

It took them only about ten minutes to reach the small spaceport. Lafferty's ship had been pulled out of the hangar, and seemed ready to go.

"So where's your pilot?" asked Cole.

"He must be in the bar," said Lafferty. "Come on. I'll introduce him to you. He's a fellow conspirator."

"How many are you?"

"A few hundred in this sector. I have no other hard information on other sectors or their leaders, and that way the Republic can't torture it out of me, but I suspect there are upwards of ten thousand."

"The Republic doesn't torture its enemies," said Cole. "You're not going to convince me it tortures its citizens."

"I'm not even going to try," said Lafferty. "Just don't get caught, and you can feel smug and superior to your heart's content."

"I do not drink human stimulants," said Dozhin as they neared the bar.

"So go to the alien bar around the corner."

"I am here on business," said Dozhin, holding out his hand.

"I thought we were supposed to be on the same fucking side," muttered Lafferty, reaching into a pocket and pulling out a handful of Maria Theresa dollars. "Here you are, you scheming little bastard. And I'll want change."

Dozhin took the money, made a production of counting it, and headed around the corner.

"Just out of curiosity, how many ships have you killed so far?'" asked Lafferty as they walked.

"A few," said Cole. "Not many."

"That's due to change."

"I agree."

"For a while, anyway," added Lafferty.

"The Navy will never launch a full-scale attack in the Frontier," said Cole. "They can't pull that many ships away from the Teroni war."

"You're convinced of that, are you?"

"Yes."

"That conviction will hold right up to the day that you're doing more damage to the Navy than the Teronis are, and not one second longer."

"They're not going to put enough ships into the Frontier for us to do them that much damage," said Cole.

"Yes they will, once they know you're shooting them down," said Lafferty. "If I didn't think so, I wouldn't give you the help and spend the money on the fuel that you're going to cost me for the next two days." He reached the entrance to the bar. "Here we are."

A young man stood alone at the bar, and Lafferty and Cole immediately approached him.

"Harold," said Lafferty to the young man, "say hello to the Republic's most-wanted felon."

The man stared at Cole and finally shook his head. "I don't get the joke."

"This is Wilson Cole."

The man shook his head. "I know what Cole looks like. I've seen his face on enough posters and holocasts." He stared again. "This guy's close, but it isn't him."

"I'll have to compliment my makeup artist," said Cole with a smile.

"You're
really
him?" said Harold excitedly.

"I'm really him."

"Are you here to lead us against the Republic?" asked the young man eagerly.

"My battle with the Republic is limited to the Inner Frontier," Cole answered.

"Well, once you wipe them out there, why not come and do the same thing here?"

"Have you ever seen the base on Chambon V?" asked Cole.

"Yes."

"Pretty impressive, isn't it?"

"If it wasn't, we'd have taken it out already," said Harold.

"Well, let me tell you something," said Cole. "The Republic's got more than three hundred bases spread around the galaxy, and most of them are between three and ten times the size of that one. You're not about to overthrow the Republic or beat the Navy into surrendering."