Rebel (19 page)

"Computer, what the hell's the name of this ship anyway?" muttered Cole, his eyes scanning the various control panels.

"I am the
Raging Tiger," answered the computer.

"What's a tiger?" asked Doshin.

"A large predatory feline carnivore native to Earth. Date of extinction: 2109 A.D."

"Well," said the alien with a shrug, "that explains why I never heard of it."

"Computer," said Cole, "give me an ETA for Singapore Station."

"Eighty-three minutes."

He stared at the screen. "You'd think we could see it by now."

"According to my data banks, it is only seven miles long. You will not see it until we are within two minutes of it."

"I see something else, though," said Cole, checking the viewscreen, where five ships had just appeared. "I want to send a message on every possible wavelength—and I want it on visual, too."

"Ready."

"This is Wilson Cole. I have captured the Republic ship known as the
Raging Tiger.
My code word is Four Eyes. May I have an escort to Singapore Station, please?"

"This is Miguel Flores, Captain of the
Golden Dawn"
came a reply. "I'm not aware of any code word. Also, I've met Captain Cole, and you're not him."

"What the hell are you talking about? The code is Four Eyes."

"Nobody gave me any code word," said Flores.

"Let me guess. You just joined this week."

"That's right."

"Before you do something rash," said Cole, "contact the
Theodore Roosevelt.
They will confirm my current appearance and my code word."

"They'd better," said Flores. A minute later his image was back. "All right, Captain Cole. You've got an escort."

His image vanished.

"What if they'd shot first?" asked Dozhin.

"You'd be past worrying about it by now," answered Cole.

"Is that all you've got to say?" demanded the alien.

"What do you want me to say?" responded Cole. "I'm the one who declared open season on Republic ships once they enter the Frontier. I can hardly get mad at anyone for carrying out my orders."

"I have come to the conclusion that you are not a military hero after all," said Dozhin after some consideration.

"That's what I've been telling you all along."

"What you are," continued Dozhin, "is a madman with a death wish!"

"If you say so."

"Hah! You don't deny it?"

"Would it do any good?" said Cole. "Your mind's made up. But don't forget that this madman kept you alive when Lafferty's ship was stopped, and again just now."

"Dumb luck."

"The intelligent don't depend on luck," said Cole. "And the dumb don't understand how it works."

The alien glared at him but remained silent, and in a little over an hour and a quarter the
Raging Tiger
docked at Singapore Station. Cole emerged from the ship to be confronted by half a dozen armed men.

"I'm not carrying any weapons," he said.

"I assume you won't mind if we don't take your word for it," said Flores. He nodded to a companion, who came over and thoroughly frisked both Cole and Dozhin.

"This is silly," said Cole. "You've already confirmed my identity."

"Probably," said Flores. "The only thing I know for sure is that I've confirmed that a man who resembles the Wilson Cole I know is in possession of the proper code. You will be treated with the utmost respect, but I need positive identification."

"You're either the most thorough officer I've met in years, or else you're a fanatic who could be more trouble than he's worth," said Cole. "I hope it's the former. Now please escort me to either the
Theodore Roosevelt
or to Duke's Place. There will be people at either who can vouch for me."

"Duke's Place," responded Flores. "I don't want you near the
Roosevelt
until we know for sure that you're Wilson Cole."

Cole posed no objection, and he and Dozhin were taken to the casino. As soon as they entered, Cole spotted Val at one of the tables.

"Do you see that tall redheaded woman?" he asked Flores.

"The one they call the Valkyrie, yes."

"Do you know that she's Third Officer aboard the
Theodore Roosevelt?
"

Flores nodded his head.

"Call her over."

Flores turned to two of his men. "The giant redhead. Bring her over here."

"Ask her politely," added Cole. "She doesn't like to be ordered."

"We have
these"
said one of the men, holding up his burner.

"Threaten her with that and she'll take it away and shove u right up your ass," said Cole. "Just ask her politely."

"Do as he says," ordered Flores.

"Good decision," said Cole. "They wouldn't be much use to you after they got her mad."

Flores chuckled, and a moment later the two men accompanied Val across the room to stand in front of Cole.

"Welcome back, Cole," she said. "Sharon was worried sick about you, but I figured you're such a devious bastard you'd find a way to survive." She looked down at Dozhin. "What's this?"

"I am a who, not a what," said the alien with dignity. "My name is Dozhin, and I am Wilson Cole's most loyal friend." Cole stared at him. "Within limitations," he added lamely.

"I'll just bet," said Val. She looked at Cole. "Do you need me for anything, now that I've convinced them you're not Admiral Garcia, or can I go back to enjoying myself?"

"You are free to go," said Flores.

"I didn't ask you, Shorty."

"Go place your bets," said Cole.

"She called me Shorty," said Flores as Val returned to the gaming tables. "I am six feet three inches tall."

"Everything is relative," said Cole.

The Octopus entered the casino just then, saw Cole, and walked over to him. "I just got here," said the Octopus. "How did it go?"

"It went okay," answered Cole. "I'll fill you in later."

The Octopus jerked a thumb in Flores's direction. "He giving you any problems?"

"No, no problems."

"Damned well better not be," growled the Octopus, heading off for the Duke's table.

Flores turned to Cole. "I'm sorry if I have embarrassed or inconvenienced you," he said uncomfortably. "I was just doing my duty."

"Actually, you're to be commended for your thoroughness," replied Cole, trying to put him at his ease.

"Thank you for your understanding." Flores saluted and left.

"I suppose we'd better find you a ship to go home in," Cole said to Dozhin.

"Don't be in such a hurry," replied Dozhin, staring at the colorful gaming tables and the even more colorful characters standing at them. "This is a fabulous place, this station. I just may stay here."

"You're welcome to," said Cole. "But this fabulous place figures to be under a serious attack by the Republic in the not-too-distant future."

"You're better protected here than I was on the farm."

"True, but why would the Navy attack a Republic farm?"

"Why do they do anything they do?" responded Dozhin. "I need to weigh my decision carefully—and I can't do that until I have seen more of Singapore Station."

"So go look," said Cole.

"I intend to."

"The bottom three levels were specially built to accommodate aliens, though since you seem comfortable in Galactic Standard gravity and atmosphere you can stay on the human levels if you want."

"I'll look around and then I'll decide."

"Fine," said Cole. "Have a good time."

"There is one problem," said Dozhin hesitantly.

"Only one?"

"I do not have any money."

"Not even Republic credits?"

"Nothing."

"I hope you don't expect me to believe that you managed that farm for free," said Cole.

"My money is in a box under my bed."

"What the hell, I wouldn't trust a Republic bank either."

"But I have no currency of any kind with me."

Cole reached into his pocket and pulled out a ten-dollar Maria Theresa note. "Here," he said, handing it to Dozhin. "Don't spend it all at once, and when you run through it, go over to that big table in the corner. Walk up to a man with a platinum mask and tell him that I said he should give you a job."

"I don't
want
a job."

"Suit yourself. I hope you and the ten dollars have a long and happy life together." Cole began walking toward the Duke's table.

"But I want to fight against the Republic."

"If I come to a situation where I can use you, you'll get your chance. In the meantime, if you feel that strongly, you could donate half your earnings to the cause."

"What cause?" demanded Dozhin, looking around. "I don't see anyone rushing to join a cause."

"Good. If you can't spot them, maybe the Navy can't either. Now go enjoy yourself before I take my money back."

That statement galvanized the alien into action, and he was out of the casino and heading for an airlift to the lower levels almost before anyone noticed he was gone. All eyes turned to Cole as he made his way to the Duke's table, which was currently occupied by the Platinum Duke, David Copperfield, and the Octopus.

"Have a drink," said the Octopus. "You had us worried when we heard about the commotion on Chambon V."

"Which reminds me," said Cole, pulling a small cube out of his pocket. "Here's an early birthday present."

"What is it?"

"Your copy of the Inner Frontier patrol routes for all the ships at the Chambon V base."

"For how long?"

"Two months."

"That'll help," said the Octopus.

"More than you think," said Cole.

"Oh?"

"I changed some of their routes. I don't think I left any footprints, so they shouldn't know what I did and shouldn't change it back."

The Octopus grinned. "There's going to be good hunting this month!"

"And we've now got two Republic ships to use as decoys," added David Copperfield.

"Right," said Cole. "I forgot all about the first one."

"Getting shot at and chased around the Republic will do that to your memory," said the Octopus.

"I bear glad tidings from the Republic, too," said Cole.

"Please tell me Susan Garcia is dead of a painful, disfiguring disease," said the Duke.

"She's alive and well, and probably thinks pretty much the same of you as you think of her—on those rare occasions that she can be bothered to think of you at all."

"All right," said the Duke. "What secondary good news do you bring?"

"Once I figure out how to contact them again, I've got another four hundred to five hundred ships on our side."

"Five hundred ships?" repeated the Octopus. "Where are they?"

"In the Republic."

"That makes it official," said the Duke.

"What are you talking about?" asked Cole.

"When it was just you and few ships out here, ships with no allegiances, you were an illegal rabble. But with ships from the Republic —now you're officially a rebellion."

"Semantics," said Cole.

"But
meaningful
semantics," said the Duke. "This will make it much easier to raise money and recruit more young men and women to your side."

"I don't have a side."

"Then to your banner."

"So now it's only two-million-to-one odds against us instead of five-million-to-one," said Copperfield.

"It'll be a less than that," said Cole. "Those four hundred ships aren't from all across the Republic. They're just from Piccoli III and its vicinity. I'll bet we could pick up a few hundred ships near every Navy base in the Republic."

"Wouldn't those near the bases tend to be the most patriotic?" asked Copperfield.

"The nearest ones will have had the most interaction with the Navy," said Cole. "These days, that's not always a pleasant experience."

They spoke a few minutes more. Then the Octopus went off to his ship to study the cube, and Cole and David Copperfield headed toward the
Teddy R.

"Tell me the truth, Steerforth," said the little alien. "What are our chances?"

"A little better than they were last week," said Cole.

"That's all?"

"David, against something like the Republic, that's a giant step forward."

"Yes, I suppose it is," admitted Copperfield. "When you consider the odds, don't you ever feel overwhelmed?"

"I don't think of the odds," said Cole.

"What
do
you think of?"

Cole paused for just a moment. "I think of Four Eyes," he said. "And a thousand others who met the same fate."   "You couldn't have saved him."

"No," said Cole. "No, I couldn't have. But maybe we can save the next thousand. At least, we've got to try."

Cole was sitting at the Platinum Duke's table with David Copperfield, nursing a beer, when the Octopus and his son walked over.

"Mind if we join you?" said the Octopus.

"Be my guest," said Cole. "Or, more accurately, be the Duke's guest."

The two men pulled up chairs and seated themselves.

"How are you doing, kid?" Cole asked Jonah.

"Better," replied the young man. "I'll be in therapy for a while to get rid of the limp, but I'm doing okay"

"I keep telling him: A prosthetic leg wouldn't limp and would never feel pain, but he's just stubborn," said the Octopus.

"I can get an endless supply of artificial arms and legs," said Jonah. "If I let them cut off the ones I was born with, I can never change my mind and get them back."

"Kid's got a point," said Cole. "Besides, I see you never had your extra hands removed."

"Why should I?" said the Octopus. "If I did, I'd just have to go find something else that makes me stand out in a crowd."

"May I assume that when you're all through pretending you're annoyed with each other you're going to get to the point of this visit?" said Cole.

"You cut me to the quick," said the Octopus. He flexed all eight of his hands. "And that's a lot of quicks to cut. Can't we just be here on a friendly visit?"

"This being a casino, I'd give plenty of ten-to-one against it," said Cole.

"Well, since you put it that way . . ." said the Octopus. He turned to his son. "Go ahead. It's your idea."

"There's a place, out beyond the Hayakawa system," began Jonah, "where you can cross from the Frontier to the Republic and still be seven light-years from the nearest Republic world."

"Good for you, kid," said Cole. "You've got a head on your shoulders."

"You figured it out already?" asked Jonah, surprised.

"The strategy, yes. The location, no. I've never heard of the Hayakawa system."

"It's halfway between here and the Pericles Cluster."

"You're sure about the seven light-years?"

Jonah nodded. "While I was laid up in the hospital, I did all the research. Seven-point-one-two light-years, actually."

Cole nodded. "It ought to work."

"What are you talking about?" demanded David Copperfield.

"We're sitting on two Navy ships," explained Cole. "The
Shooting Star
, which we captured on Keepsake, and the
Raging Tiger,
which I just returned in. We'll use one of them as bait—probably the
Shooting Star
, since it's the far bigger ship. We'll send out a distress call and be waiting for the rescue force with as many ships as we can put together. And we'll have a few men aboard the
Shooting Star
itself, ready to fire on the rescuers the second they appear." Cole took a sip of his beer. "Now, the second they realize they've fallen into a trap, the ships are going to call for backup, and the trick is to attack them in such an isolated spot that the cavalry can't reach us before the battle's over." He turned to Jonah. "The closest planet is seven light-years. Where's the closest wormhole?"

"They keep moving—they're very unstable in that section of the Frontier—but two days ago the closest one was almost a light-year away."

"Okay," said Cole. "Even stripped down at top speed, no force from the Republic is going to arrive in time."

"Then you approve?" asked Jonah eagerly.

"Tentatively. I want to have my pilot check the wormholes, and it wouldn't hurt to send a couple of ships out there to scout the area out, make sure there are no populated planets waiting to become the next Braccio II when the Republic decides to send a punishment party a week or two after the battle."

"I hadn't thought of that," admitted Jonah.

"No one should have to," replied Cole. "
My
Navy would never do that—but I guess this isn't my Navy any longer. The next tiling to do is check the schedules I brought back and find out when there will be a Navy patrol in that area."

"Why?"

"Because our argument and our battle is against Navy ships inside the boundaries of the Frontier. I don't want Navy ships from the interior of the Republic responding to a distress call. The Navy ships we destroy, assuming that we
can
destroy them, are those that remain on the Frontier."

"The Navy is the Navy," thundered the Octopus. "I say kill 'em all."

"We're probably biting off more than we can chew, just trying to kick them out of the Inner Frontier," said Cole. "There's no sense declaring war on all their millions of ships."

"All right, all right," muttered the Octopus.

"I'll send a couple of ships out there to check things out, make sure the wormhole is where my pilot says it is, and set Slick to work on the
Shooting Star."

The Octopus frowned. "Who is Slick, and what work is there to do? My understanding is that it's suffered no damage on Keepsake and is in fine working order."

"Slick is a Tolobite ..." began Cole.

"What the hell is a Tolobite?"

"He's a humanoid crew member," answered Cole. "But more to the point, he's a symbiote."

"With what?"

"A very smooth, shiny second skin called a Gorib. I don't think it's intelligent, though Slick seems happy enough with it. The Gorib protects him from the cold of space and provides him with hours of oxygen, so whenever we're in space and we have work to do on the exterior of the ship, Slick and his symbiote go out and do it."

"You wouldn't happen to have another Tolobite you'd like to loan me, would you?" asked the Octopus.

"They're pretty rare. I'd never heard of them before I joined the
Teddy R.
If you were to ask me to name my most valuable crew member, depending on the situation it'd either be Val or Slick. Anyway, we don't know for sure that the Navy isn't aware of the fact that we've captured the
Shooting Star,
so I want Slick to give it new registration IDs on its exterior. I'll have Malcolm Briggs dig into its computer and change the ID to match."

"Will the Navy come if they don't have a record of the ship?" asked Jonah.

"They'll have a record of it," said Cole. "There's a man on Piccoli III named Lafferty who will give us the name and ID of a ship that'll be in the Navy's computer."

"Will that work?" persisted Jonah. "I mean, the Navy is certainly going to respond to the signal before setting out on a rescue mission. What happens when they get a reply from the real ship saying they're okay?"

"That's would be a problem if the ship could send and receive messages," said Cole. "But Lafferty's got as many ships at his disposal as we have. If they can't destroy a Navy ship so quickly that it can't get off a signal, they can at least jam all its communications."

"You hope."

"I hope," agreed Cole. "If it was easy, someone would have kicked the Navy out of the Inner Frontier a long time ago."

They spoke for another few minutes, and then Cole, accompanied by David Copperfield, returned to the
Teddy R.
He told Briggs to transfer everything he could find on the Hayakawa system to his personal computer, as well as the navigational computers in Vladimir Sokolov's and Braxite's ships.

"How big a fleet do you expect to answer the SOS?" asked Copperfield.

"There are too many variables to even guess," said Cole. "How many ships can reach the
Shooting Star
—or whatever we wind up calling it—in time to rescue the crew from whatever we say the problem is? Loss of control is one thing; loss of oxygen is another. Will they suspect a trap, and if so, will they come in force, or will they even come at all? And what we tell them will make a difference, too. Did the controls merely fail, or did it survive an attack from the
Teddy R,
which is still the most wanted ship in the galaxy?"

"Well, of course you'll hint the
Teddy R
is in the area," said Copperfield. "That will draw the greatest response."

"We may not be thrilled with that," replied Cole. "A lot of them might be class-M warships. The only class-M on our side is the
Teddy R,
and we haven't been re-outfitted in a quarter of a century. We were the biggest, toughest ship on the Frontier when we were fighting pirates or warlords, but we're pretty much overmatched against the Navy."

"You make me wonder why you're doing this at all," said Copperfield sullenly.

"Because someone's got to."

"We could go back to being mercenaries."

Cole shook his head. "If we ignore the Navy, there'll be another Braccio II every year. How many young men and women have they ripped from their homes and impressed into the service? How many farms have they bankrupted by taking a year's harvest and not paying for it? How many mining worlds have been abandoned because you can't make a profit when the Navy is confiscating half of what you produce? They say they're entitled to it because they're protecting us from our enemies, and since I was on the front line against those enemies for years I never questioned it. But now that I'm on the Frontier it's clear that someone has to protect us from our protectors."

"You never used to feel this way," said Copperfield.

"David, I've spent three and a half years
avoiding
the Navy. I had intimations of what they were doing, but I didn't
know.
Well, now I do, and if you turn your back on something like this, then you're not any better than the perpetrators." He grimaced. "I should have known sooner. I mean, hell, I know almost all the top brass in the fleet, from Admiral Garcia on down, and the most honorable officer I ever met was Jacovic, who was fighting for the other side."

"You're going to be hell to live with until we get this operation up and running, aren't you?" said Sharon's disembodied voice.

"Probably," acknowledged Cole.

"Well, if it'll make you feel any better, Mr. Briggs has already transferred what we have on the Hayakawa system to Vladimir and Braxite."

"It's a start," said Cole. "I'd better contact Lafferty and tell him what we're going to need."

"If he can deliver," she replied. "A lot of people make promises when they want to impress the famous Wilson Cole, but that doesn't mean they can keep them."

"There's an ugly little creature named Dozhin wandering the station who will vouch for him."

"Can you trust the ugly little creature?"

"He didn't have to leave Piccoli with me," said Cole. "No one would have forced him."

"All right," said Sharon. "I hope you're right."

"Well, at least you're worrying about the right thing."

"Why is that?" asked Copperfield. "I'd be more worried about the size and strength of the rescue ships."

"Tell him, Sharon."

Her image finally popped into existence.

"Because, David," she said, "the one thing we have to take on faith is Lafferty's word that he's killed or disabled the ship we're going to impersonate. If he lies, or if he's simply mistaken, we're going to be in serious trouble."

"Why?" asked Copperfield. "If they know it's a trap, they won't come."

"David, if they know it's a trap and they think it's been set by the gentleman standing next to you, they'll come in such numbers that they'll blot out the stars for hundreds of miles around."

"I hadn't thought of that," admitted the little alien.

"Don't worry, David," said Cole. "Lafferty will kill the ship, and this thing will run like clockwork."
I hope.

"Sir," said Christine from her station at the main computer con sole, "a report just came in from Mr. Moyer. He and three of the Octopus's ships just took out a lone Navy six-man ship, just beyond the Kronos system. He wants to know if you have any instructions?"

"I'm not clear what he means," said Cole. "He's already killed the ship."

"He thinks it's salvageable, and wants to know if you'd like it towed back so we can repair it and have yet another decoy ship."

Cole shook his head. "We've already got two decoys. Even the Navy isn't dumb enough to fall for the same trick three times." He paused. "Did the ship get off any messages before he killed it?"

"He says he doesn't think so."

"Tell him to make sure no Republic battleships are headed his way. If not, and the ship has any laser or pulse cannons above Level 2, have him bring them back. We can always install them in some of our ships."

"Yes, sir," said Christine, breaking the connection.

Cole waited until Christine had time to contact Moyer, then had her patch through a transmission to Lafferty on Piccoli III.

The old man stared at his image. "You look younger," he said at last.

"The wrinkles are wearing off, and my hair's its normal color," said Cole.

"Where's my ship?"

"Probably on Chambon V," said Cole. He related what had happened when the Navy had boarded it.

"Shit!" exclaimed Lafferty. "By now they know it was registered in my name!"

"So you'll just tell them that the notorious Wilson Cole stole it at gunpoint. Hell, I stole a much better-protected one from Chambon. They won't have any trouble believing it."

"Okay, that makes sense," agreed Lafferty.