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Authors: Brian Stableford
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been entered for a
sixty-metre dash with a really unpleasant booby prize for the last one to
finish. I'd never actually seen one before, but I guessed immediately that the
uniforms belonged to the now-legendary Star Force. Six of the starship soldiers
were male, but the one in the lead was a blonde woman who gave the definite
impression that her wrathful stare ought to be turning all of us to stone.
"Russell!"
she howled, at the top of her strident voice. "Don't sign that paper!"
I wasn't about to
quibble about the pronunciation of my name. I dropped the pen and wiped the ink
from my thumb, uncaring of the fact that my trousers were fresh out of the
wash.
The officer and her
cohort immediately slowed to a fast walk—or, to be strictly accurate, a
military march. An eighth figure stumbled through the door behind them, purple
in the face with the effort of trying to keep up. It was Aleksandr Sovorov.
Jacinthe Siani
looked around, as if searching for moral support, but none was available to
her. She'd come alone to do a simple job—but it wouldn't have mattered if she'd
had half a dozen of Amara Guur's hatchet-men with her. They could hardly have
started a fight in the Hall of Justice—and if they had, they'd have lost. The
blonde and her six bravos were wearing sidearms of a kind I'd never seen
before, and they certainly looked as if they knew how to use them. They were
warriors—and near-genocidal warriors at that.
"The deadline
has expired!" Jacinthe Siani said, appealing to the clerk. "He agreed
to sign. He cannot back out now!"
The blonde arrived
at the foot of the platform as the Kythnan completed the plea, and vaulted up
to join us. She looked hard at Jacinthe Siani, curling her lip in a manner
calculated to radiate contempt; then she turned to the clerk. "I'm
Star-Captain Susarma Lear, representing the United Governments and Military
Forces of Earth," she said. "I demand that you release this man into
my custody immediately. I hereby accept responsibility for any debts he may
have incurred."
"You
cannot!" Jacinthe Siani complained—but she didn't sound confident.
I looked at
Aleksandr Sovorov, with a heart full of sincere affection. He'd brought the
cavalry!
He had actually
brought the cavalry to my rescue—or the Star Force, who were surely an order of
magnitude better, considering what they had instead of horses and six-guns.
It didn't seem to
be an appropriate time for legal niceties, so I grabbed the contract from the
table, ripped it in half and threw it at the Kythnan's feet. "I changed my
mind before the deadline expired," I said. "I accept the
star-captain's offer, gladly. I can do that, can't I, Zenatta?"
238-Zenatta frowned
at the omission of his number, but he was still my lawyer. "Most
certainly," he said. "In view of the fact that Ms. Siani's contract
only covers a fraction of my client's debt, while the star-captain is willing
to accept responsibility for the whole, I submit that the administration-in-residence
of Skychain City must prefer her offer, provided that the period of discharge
is not excessive."
"This is not
right!" Jacinthe Siani complained—but no one was listening.
"What period
did you have in mind for the repayment of
Mr. Rousseau's debt, Star-Captain
Lear?" the clerk inquired.
"I'll have to
talk to the ship's quartermaster," the star- captain told her, "but
how does a couple of hours sound? We have negotiable cargo. Your people on the
satellite have already expressed a strong interest in it."
A couple of hours
obviously sounded good to the clerk, but I noticed 69-Aquila frowning. When the
Tetrax frown, they don't do it by halves. I thought for one crazy second that
Amara Guur might have bought him too, but then I realised that it was the thought
of Star-Captain Lear's "negotiable cargo" that was troubling him.
Only three or four
days had passed since news of humanity's victory over the Salamandrans had
reached Asgard. Hers must be a warship, fresh from a climactic
sixty-metre dash with a really unpleasant booby prize for the last one to
finish. I'd never actually seen one before, but I guessed immediately that the
uniforms belonged to the now-legendary Star Force. Six of the starship soldiers
were male, but the one in the lead was a blonde woman who gave the definite
impression that her wrathful stare ought to be turning all of us to stone.
"Russell!"
she howled, at the top of her strident voice. "Don't sign that paper!"
I wasn't about to
quibble about the pronunciation of my name. I dropped the pen and wiped the ink
from my thumb, uncaring of the fact that my trousers were fresh out of the
wash.
The officer and her
cohort immediately slowed to a fast walk—or, to be strictly accurate, a
military march. An eighth figure stumbled through the door behind them, purple
in the face with the effort of trying to keep up. It was Aleksandr Sovorov.
Jacinthe Siani
looked around, as if searching for moral support, but none was available to
her. She'd come alone to do a simple job—but it wouldn't have mattered if she'd
had half a dozen of Amara Guur's hatchet-men with her. They could hardly have
started a fight in the Hall of Justice—and if they had, they'd have lost. The
blonde and her six bravos were wearing sidearms of a kind I'd never seen
before, and they certainly looked as if they knew how to use them. They were
warriors—and near-genocidal warriors at that.
"The deadline
has expired!" Jacinthe Siani said, appealing to the clerk. "He agreed
to sign. He cannot back out now!"
The blonde arrived
at the foot of the platform as the Kythnan completed the plea, and vaulted up
to join us. She looked hard at Jacinthe Siani, curling her lip in a manner
calculated to radiate contempt; then she turned to the clerk. "I'm
Star-Captain Susarma Lear, representing the United Governments and Military
Forces of Earth," she said. "I demand that you release this man into
my custody immediately. I hereby accept responsibility for any debts he may
have incurred."
"You
cannot!" Jacinthe Siani complained—but she didn't sound confident.
I looked at
Aleksandr Sovorov, with a heart full of sincere affection. He'd brought the
cavalry!
He had actually
brought the cavalry to my rescue—or the Star Force, who were surely an order of
magnitude better, considering what they had instead of horses and six-guns.
It didn't seem to
be an appropriate time for legal niceties, so I grabbed the contract from the
table, ripped it in half and threw it at the Kythnan's feet. "I changed my
mind before the deadline expired," I said. "I accept the
star-captain's offer, gladly. I can do that, can't I, Zenatta?"
238-Zenatta frowned
at the omission of his number, but he was still my lawyer. "Most
certainly," he said. "In view of the fact that Ms. Siani's contract
only covers a fraction of my client's debt, while the star-captain is willing
to accept responsibility for the whole, I submit that the administration-in-residence
of Skychain City must prefer her offer, provided that the period of discharge
is not excessive."
"This is not
right!" Jacinthe Siani complained—but no one was listening.
"What period
did you have in mind for the repayment of
Mr. Rousseau's debt, Star-Captain
Lear?" the clerk inquired.
"I'll have to
talk to the ship's quartermaster," the star- captain told her, "but
how does a couple of hours sound? We have negotiable cargo. Your people on the
satellite have already expressed a strong interest in it."
A couple of hours
obviously sounded good to the clerk, but I noticed 69-Aquila frowning. When the
Tetrax frown, they don't do it by halves. I thought for one crazy second that
Amara Guur might have bought him too, but then I realised that it was the thought
of Star-Captain Lear's "negotiable cargo" that was troubling him.
Only three or four
days had passed since news of humanity's victory over the Salamandrans had
reached Asgard. Hers must be a warship, fresh from a climactic
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