felt the ramp under his boots, and gave thanks as hydraulics lifted both of them into the ship. Not bad for a wet-behind-the- ears kid . . .
Kyle swung the speedster around, saw space suits heading for one of the ships, and wondered if he should fire on them. The Sorry shuddered as a concussion grenade exploded near her stern and he thought better of it.
The doors were halfway open by now. Kyle aimed for the overgrowing rectangle of blackness, applied more thrust, and ignored the controller's threats. Then, with surprising suddenness, they were free. Stars wheeled as he put the ship into a turn, and added thrust. A voice came from next to his ear. "Thanks, Kyle. It looks like I owe you all over again."
Kyle grinned as Jan dropped into the copilot's position. She was pale but determined. "You're thinking of Rosco."
Jan nodded. "Him too. How's our tail?"
"Company's coming," Waller answered laconically. "One so far."
"Let's see what kind of legs they have," Jan said grimly, and pushed the sublight drive control to max. Kyle saw a distant spark of light grow a tiny bit brighter, and felt the hull vibrate. He frowned. How much could the Sorry take? "What about a hyperspace jump?" Kyle inquired. "We could lose them in a hurry"
"Yes, we could," Jan agreed, her fingers moving over the controls. "If the navcomp knew our coordinates. You didn't happen to load our position, did you?"
Kyle felt blood rush to his face. "The thought never crossed my mind."
Jan turned and her expression softened. "Don't worry. The navcomp will detect whatever beacons happen to be in the area, and if that fails, run star scans till it finds a match. That'll tell us where we are."
"Which is in deep trouble," Waller added calmly. "They're gaining."
Slyder, who owned a small but heavily armed vessel of his own, had allowed the humans to provide the transportation. A logical choice considering the fact that the Governor's yacht was larger, faster, and better armed than his vessel. At least it had seemed logical, before he came aboard, found himself relegated to the status of observer, and realized how incompetent the humans were. The vast majority of the posse were officers, most of whom were giving orders, none of whom were following them. And, as if that wasn't bad enough, there was the Governor himself, constantly throwing his weight around, setting the wrong priorities.
The droid was an excellent example. Rather than leave it aboard the Star, and deal with it later, the Governor had brought it along. And now, when his attention should be on the speedster, Donar had focused on the droid. The machine was spread-eagled on a table while a much-abused technician sweated over it. Cables ran from a patch panel to its CPU, power supply, and subprocessor wiring harness. "I think I have it, sir just one more connection."
The Governor, robes rustling, moved in for a closer look. Nathan did likewise. Slyder, who saw the whole exercise as a colossal waste of time, hung back.
The technician connected a cable, flipped a switch, and waited for some sort of reaction. A-Cee opened his eyes and tried to sit. Nothing happened. He remembered the chase, the programmed equivalent of pain, followed by darkness. He blinked as a trio of humans stared down at him. One of them wore a uniform.
A-Cee felt a subroutine kick in, heard the words, and knew his fate: "I am a bomb. Unauthorized access, manipulation, or interference with me or my programming, data storage modules, or other systems will result in the detonation of four point two kilos of plitex nine explosive . . . "
There was a frantic, desperate attempt to deactivate the droid and stop the countdown. But Slyder knew there wasn't enough time. All his plans, all the years of work, had turned to dust. The humans were worse than incompetent, they were irretrievably stupid, and deserved to die. Slyder drew his weapon, shot as many of them as he could, and waited for the inevitable. The trophies would go to his
Kyle swung the speedster around, saw space suits heading for one of the ships, and wondered if he should fire on them. The Sorry shuddered as a concussion grenade exploded near her stern and he thought better of it.
The doors were halfway open by now. Kyle aimed for the overgrowing rectangle of blackness, applied more thrust, and ignored the controller's threats. Then, with surprising suddenness, they were free. Stars wheeled as he put the ship into a turn, and added thrust. A voice came from next to his ear. "Thanks, Kyle. It looks like I owe you all over again."
Kyle grinned as Jan dropped into the copilot's position. She was pale but determined. "You're thinking of Rosco."
Jan nodded. "Him too. How's our tail?"
"Company's coming," Waller answered laconically. "One so far."
"Let's see what kind of legs they have," Jan said grimly, and pushed the sublight drive control to max. Kyle saw a distant spark of light grow a tiny bit brighter, and felt the hull vibrate. He frowned. How much could the Sorry take? "What about a hyperspace jump?" Kyle inquired. "We could lose them in a hurry"
"Yes, we could," Jan agreed, her fingers moving over the controls. "If the navcomp knew our coordinates. You didn't happen to load our position, did you?"
Kyle felt blood rush to his face. "The thought never crossed my mind."
Jan turned and her expression softened. "Don't worry. The navcomp will detect whatever beacons happen to be in the area, and if that fails, run star scans till it finds a match. That'll tell us where we are."
"Which is in deep trouble," Waller added calmly. "They're gaining."
Slyder, who owned a small but heavily armed vessel of his own, had allowed the humans to provide the transportation. A logical choice considering the fact that the Governor's yacht was larger, faster, and better armed than his vessel. At least it had seemed logical, before he came aboard, found himself relegated to the status of observer, and realized how incompetent the humans were. The vast majority of the posse were officers, most of whom were giving orders, none of whom were following them. And, as if that wasn't bad enough, there was the Governor himself, constantly throwing his weight around, setting the wrong priorities.
The droid was an excellent example. Rather than leave it aboard the Star, and deal with it later, the Governor had brought it along. And now, when his attention should be on the speedster, Donar had focused on the droid. The machine was spread-eagled on a table while a much-abused technician sweated over it. Cables ran from a patch panel to its CPU, power supply, and subprocessor wiring harness. "I think I have it, sir just one more connection."
The Governor, robes rustling, moved in for a closer look. Nathan did likewise. Slyder, who saw the whole exercise as a colossal waste of time, hung back.
The technician connected a cable, flipped a switch, and waited for some sort of reaction. A-Cee opened his eyes and tried to sit. Nothing happened. He remembered the chase, the programmed equivalent of pain, followed by darkness. He blinked as a trio of humans stared down at him. One of them wore a uniform.
A-Cee felt a subroutine kick in, heard the words, and knew his fate: "I am a bomb. Unauthorized access, manipulation, or interference with me or my programming, data storage modules, or other systems will result in the detonation of four point two kilos of plitex nine explosive . . . "
There was a frantic, desperate attempt to deactivate the droid and stop the countdown. But Slyder knew there wasn't enough time. All his plans, all the years of work, had turned to dust. The humans were worse than incompetent, they were irretrievably stupid, and deserved to die. Slyder drew his weapon, shot as many of them as he could, and waited for the inevitable. The trophies would go to his
Similar Books
