Read Online Star Risk - 03 The Doublecross Program by Chris Bunch - Free Book Online
Authors: Chris Bunch
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missile, behind the one she'd been piloting.
"Eight� five� four� three� impact!"
Just ahead of her, the Shaoki countermissile exploded, and there was nothing left of her first missile but an expanding ball of hot gas.
Riss concentrated on closing on the target.
"I want another count," she said.
"Twenty seconds to impact� fifteen� ten� get out of there� five�"
Again, Riss "jumped" to the third missile that had been launched.
But it wasn't necessary. The Shaoki battery that had attacked the first launch wasn't responding. The second missile, set to echo the first's course, had blasted through the impact cloud from the first, and Shaoki Target Acquisition hadn't picked it up.
That missile smashed into the target building and set off a perfectly satisfactory explosion.
"Something was in there besides shredded wheat," she muttered, and brought the third missile up into a low orbit over the city.
She scanned hastily for another target, saw a temptingly large building on the horizon, thought about it for a minute.
"Naah," she growled. "With my luck it'd be an orphanage, not an army headquarters."
She hit the self-detonate button and pulled out just before the third missile went off, and she was back aboard the Fletcher.
"Good going," the weapons officer said.
"I went and said it very clear/I went and shouted in their ear," Riss recited.
"One for Dov," she said to herself, and went looking for the officers' mess.
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NINE � ^ � I have been pondering this matter of the building you blew up on Irdis," Grok said to Riss. It was a week after she'd returned from her raid.
"Which," Jasmine put in, "turns out, I've found, through the miserable monitoring system the Khelat have, to have been the central secret police station for the planet."
"There must be some people wanting to buy you a sufficiency of drunkenness for that," Goodnight said. "Hell, I'd buy you a shot or two. A dead cop�especially a secret-type cop�is a blessing of the gods."
"And so speaks the forces of law and order," Friedrich said.
Goodnight shrugged. "Speaking of which"�and he held out an evidence bag with two pistols in it�"here's a couple of bangsticks picked up in local raids. Maybe we can figure something out to lead to the six bandits the Khelat are always chasing around."
Von Baldur took them, examined them, and passed them to Jasmine.
"Perhaps the serial numbers might give us something?"
They were in the Star Risk suite in the Rafar Arms, surrounded by electronics and weaponry�a typical setting for the five. Piled around one com were copies of congratulatory messages from everyone from the king on down.
"We are all being ever so clever," Riss said, "and ignoring the fact that Grok has a point� At least I assume he does."
"I do," the alien said. "Having little to do with the target."
He looked pompous, which is fairly hard for a fur-covered monster almost 2.5 meters tall who looks like he belongs on a homicidal rampage.
"I have been puzzled by the fact that there was only one�two, counting the failed attempt�recon of what should be considered an important division of Khelat's enemy. I applied the standard Vance-Sapir-Whorf equations to the situation�"
"Might I ask what they are?" Riss inquired.
"Briefly, they posit some analytical parameters to judge the behavior of a culture, working from the premise that language is not only a way of reporting experience, but also a way of defining experience."
"Say again your last," Goodnight said. "I don't understand. Also, I don't see how a set of equations bears on our young asses."
"Ah, but it does, it does," Grok said. "Consider this�the Khelat language is composed mostly of verbs in the imperfect form. So is Shaoki, by the way, since they come from a common root. You'll have noticed this, since there's a certain tendency for the Khelat to plan and schedule things most
"Eight� five� four� three� impact!"
Just ahead of her, the Shaoki countermissile exploded, and there was nothing left of her first missile but an expanding ball of hot gas.
Riss concentrated on closing on the target.
"I want another count," she said.
"Twenty seconds to impact� fifteen� ten� get out of there� five�"
Again, Riss "jumped" to the third missile that had been launched.
But it wasn't necessary. The Shaoki battery that had attacked the first launch wasn't responding. The second missile, set to echo the first's course, had blasted through the impact cloud from the first, and Shaoki Target Acquisition hadn't picked it up.
That missile smashed into the target building and set off a perfectly satisfactory explosion.
"Something was in there besides shredded wheat," she muttered, and brought the third missile up into a low orbit over the city.
She scanned hastily for another target, saw a temptingly large building on the horizon, thought about it for a minute.
"Naah," she growled. "With my luck it'd be an orphanage, not an army headquarters."
She hit the self-detonate button and pulled out just before the third missile went off, and she was back aboard the Fletcher.
"Good going," the weapons officer said.
"I went and said it very clear/I went and shouted in their ear," Riss recited.
"One for Dov," she said to herself, and went looking for the officers' mess.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
NINE � ^ � I have been pondering this matter of the building you blew up on Irdis," Grok said to Riss. It was a week after she'd returned from her raid.
"Which," Jasmine put in, "turns out, I've found, through the miserable monitoring system the Khelat have, to have been the central secret police station for the planet."
"There must be some people wanting to buy you a sufficiency of drunkenness for that," Goodnight said. "Hell, I'd buy you a shot or two. A dead cop�especially a secret-type cop�is a blessing of the gods."
"And so speaks the forces of law and order," Friedrich said.
Goodnight shrugged. "Speaking of which"�and he held out an evidence bag with two pistols in it�"here's a couple of bangsticks picked up in local raids. Maybe we can figure something out to lead to the six bandits the Khelat are always chasing around."
Von Baldur took them, examined them, and passed them to Jasmine.
"Perhaps the serial numbers might give us something?"
They were in the Star Risk suite in the Rafar Arms, surrounded by electronics and weaponry�a typical setting for the five. Piled around one com were copies of congratulatory messages from everyone from the king on down.
"We are all being ever so clever," Riss said, "and ignoring the fact that Grok has a point� At least I assume he does."
"I do," the alien said. "Having little to do with the target."
He looked pompous, which is fairly hard for a fur-covered monster almost 2.5 meters tall who looks like he belongs on a homicidal rampage.
"I have been puzzled by the fact that there was only one�two, counting the failed attempt�recon of what should be considered an important division of Khelat's enemy. I applied the standard Vance-Sapir-Whorf equations to the situation�"
"Might I ask what they are?" Riss inquired.
"Briefly, they posit some analytical parameters to judge the behavior of a culture, working from the premise that language is not only a way of reporting experience, but also a way of defining experience."
"Say again your last," Goodnight said. "I don't understand. Also, I don't see how a set of equations bears on our young asses."
"Ah, but it does, it does," Grok said. "Consider this�the Khelat language is composed mostly of verbs in the imperfect form. So is Shaoki, by the way, since they come from a common root. You'll have noticed this, since there's a certain tendency for the Khelat to plan and schedule things most
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