Doomstar. Part 14

"Didn't you ever wonder why I wouldn't notify my own to look the other way if they happened to see you? You have no idea how the poison of the Doomstar has spread. I believe every one of the men with me tonight is loyal, but I can't be sure. So most of them believe that you were wanted simply for breaking the law." He sank wearily into the chair behind the desk. "You took an awful chance with that call, Johnny. However, it saved your neck, because I was able to get there in time."

"How did you know where to look for me?"

"You said you were going to see what you could find out. Where else would you go but to the Market?" Sekma leaned forward and said furiously, "But the next time, G.o.dd.a.m.n it, don't be so clever. I could have picked you up right where you were calling from, only you had to cut the switch and run."

"The last I heard," said Kettrick, "you were on your way to Gurra. How did I know you were here?

You never made any effort to contact us at the port, and you could have had me there all afternoon." He was a little bit sore about that. "Any-way, if I hadn't run, I wouldn't have found out what happened to the Doomstar."

Sekma said, "What did you find out, Johnny?" His eyes were desperate, though his voice was soft and almost without expression. "I hope it's good, because otherwise we seem to be at a dead end."

"The yacht Silverwing was in repair with Starbird. The com-ponents of the Doomstar were obviously not sold with the cargo. They are obviously not sitting in Starbird, either, not with the timetable so short. I believe the components were transferred to Silverwing." He added unnecessarily, "She belongs to Ssessorn, the curodai..."

"I know," said Sekma, and he left the office.After a few minutes he came back.

"Silverwing left repair the day after Starbird entered. She took off that same afternoon."

Kettrick groaned. "I don't doubt it. For where?"

"You know better than that, Johnny. She's a private craft, not engaged in commerce. She doesn't have to file an i-t, nor state her cargo. Do you suppose she's carrying just those same components that Seri brought? Or do you suppose that she's got the whole lot with her, the complete mechanism? This is a hot bed, Johnny. No better place in the Cl.u.s.ter for final a.s.sembly, the final jumpoff. And no better s.h.i.+p to do it than the sacrosanct private yacht of the curodai of Achern."

He turned to a chart of the Cl.u.s.ter that filled all one wall of the office. "I guess we can take our pick of destinations. And we had better be right the first time. There won't be any second guessing."

He stared at the chart as though he hated it. He had lost weight since Kettrick had last seen him.

"Any ideas?"

"No," said Kettrick. "Not at the moment." He was too old to have ideas any more. Too old and too tired. He stood be-side Sekma staring at the chart. Two old, tired men, he thought, and the Cl.u.s.ter is pa.s.sing from us and ours to the people of the Doomstar, away from a rule of law to a rule of men, and terror, and there is nothing more we can do to stop it. We were just a little too late, a little too slow.

Starbird had reached the appointed end of her journey. How many more s.h.i.+ps had reached theirs, coming by other ways from other worlds? And now, somewhere out there among the charted suns, Silverwing was flying, and in a matter of days one of those suns would die.

He remembered Boker's thick blue finger stabbing at these same charted suns, his own pointing out the dark smear of the Lantavan Bank. He shook his head. He did not quite laugh. Somehow it seemed not really funny.

"It looked so simple," he said. "What I was going to do, I mean, because I didn't believe in the Doomstar." He traced the route. "Tananaru, at your invitation. Then Gurra, Thwayn, Kirnanoc...going through the motions, you understand, be-cause they suited me as well as you. Then here." He touched the Lantavan Bank.

"But your i-t said Trace."

"Sure it did. But we weren't really going there. Until later, that is, on the way back. Jump from Kirnanoc, go through the drift, and jump again..." He flicked the White Sun with the gesture of a man saying goodbye. "I still yearned after that million credits, Sekma. I could have done it, too."

Sekma muttered, talking to himself. "Gurra, Thwayn, Kir-nanoc, Trace. That was Seri's i-t, too."

"Yes. But he never meant to make it, either."

"Except," said Sekma, "maybe on the way back?"

Sekma was studying the chart, his shoulders hunched, his head thrust forward.

Kettrick said stupidly, "But they wouldn't have any reason to go to Trace. I had to have a way back from the White Sun He stopped, his mouth still open. Sekma had picked up a pointer and was using it like a rapier, as though he would skewer the stars out ofUhe sky.

"Where would you go from Kirnanoc, Johnny, if you want-ed to poison a star? Not Trace, obviously, because you have said you are going there." The pointer rapped a planet. "Here? Possibly.

But this system is a populous one, perhaps too large a murder for this stage of the game. Fear has to be fed adoitly. In too great doses it can cause revulsion. So..." The pointer rapped again. "Here? Or here?Both possible, but also popu-lous. And apart from psychology or foolish notions of mercy, populous systems have heavy traffic, many eyes to see and ears to hear, and this time...this one time, Johnny...they must still work in the dark. How much easier and safer to poison a sun that has few children, and backward ones at that."

His pointer stabbed the White Sun.

"Somebody has to die in this demonstration, or the true power of the Doomstar will not be apparent to everyone. It is not, however, necessary nor desirable to slaughter too many. Think of the economic loss to the conquerors; popu-lous systems produce wealth. Wouldn't the Krinn just about ideally fill the bill? They're human enough to die like hu-mans, but they would be small loss. Even the heartstones would be a small sacrifice. And Seri knows all about the White Sun and the Krinn, because he had a partner once that was interested in them. How logical to point out the excellence of this choice to his fellow conspirators. A little difficult to get to, but once there, privacy in which to set up their appara-tus is practically guaranteed."

He laid the pointer down and walked away and stood with his back to Kettrick.

"Am I talking nonsense, Johnny? Grabbing at any straw because I can't bear the thought of losing?"

Kettrick said slowly, "I don't think so. I think I know now exactly when it was that Seri decided he had to kill me."

Sekma's head came up sharply.

"I told him," said Kettrick, "that I was going to the White Sun. He asked me what would happen if he refused to have anything to do with the venture. I said I'd make other ar-rangements and the half share of the money would go to somebody else. And that was when he promised to give me Starbird, knowing I'd be dead before morning."

Sekma turned and faced him. They looked at each other, and away outside a s.h.i.+p came down in a roll of thunder, and the fabric of the office quivered.

The buzzing of the communicator on Sekma's desk sounded incredibly loud and close at hand.

Sekma answered it. He listened briefly, and Kettrick thought that whatever had been said had startled. "All right. Yes," he said, and broke the connection. He looked oddly at Kettrick and walked to the door.

He opened it and stood waiting, and in a moment Larith came.

19.

She took Sekma's hand and greeted him. She seemed uncer-tain, her voice subdued, her eyes a little downcast, as though she might be afraid. She was wearing a garment of thin dark silk, closely belted around the waist and with loose sleeves that covered her arms and shoulders, the sort of cos-tume a woman might wear if she wished to be inconspicuous. As though, Kettrick thought, Larith could ever be incon-spicuous.

She came into the office, and then she saw him and stopped, and her eyes widened and her hands made a startled gesture. She said his name, in a voice so low he could hardly hear it.

He said, "h.e.l.lo, Larith."

She looked from him tor Sekma and back again. Then she shook her head and sat down.

"Just give me a minute," she said. "I wasn't expecting this." She glanced at Kettrick, and he saw theflash of tears in her eyes, though her mouth was smiling. "You do appear at the most unexpected moments..." She turned to Sekma. "I told him it would end this way."

Sekma said, "I'll be back shortly." He went out.

Kettrick stood looking down at Larith. She sat still, her hands clasped, her head bent so that he could only see the ma.s.s of copper curls.

"I did tell you, Johnny," she said at length. "I hoped it wouldn't happen, but I told you..."

"Where is Seri?"

"He's left me. Or I've left him." She rose and moved away from him, to stand by the curtained window. "I seem to have made a very bad mistake, but I don't want anything from you, not reproaches or condolences or words of wisdom."

"Fair enough."

In sudden anger she faced him. "Why didn't you go away when I asked you to? Why were you so stubborn? You'll be caught now with the rest of us..."

"Caught?"

"Even if you could run, I'm afraid it's too late. I could cry for you, Johnny."

"Could you, Larith?" He reached out and lifted the hair at the back of her neck. It was warm in the palm of his hand, crisp and springy like fine wire. He closed his fingers on it and she gave a little cry, and he held her, forcing her to turn and face him.

"Did you cry that night, when you thought I was dead?"

"I never thought you were dead. I don't know what you mean." Her eyes met his steadily, defiant and angry.

"That's nice," he said. "I'm glad to hear that. But weren't you curious? Didn't you ask Seri what had happened, where I'd gone?"

"Of course I did."

"And what did he tell you?"

"That he'd refused to get involved. That you'd gone to find somebody else, he didn't know who or where."

"And did you believe him?"

"Why shouldn't I have believed him?"

"Yes," said Kettrick. "Why shouldn't you?" He released her and she stepped back, but not far. She continued to watch him. "What did he tell you about Khitu and Chai?"

"Nothing."

"Didn't you notice they were gone?"

"I didn't go back to the house. Seri left early that morning, only a few hours after you..." She caught her breath, look-ing past him. Chai had stirred at the sound of Khitu's name and it seemed now that Larith saw her for the first time. "I don't understand, Johnny, I don't understand any of it."

Sekma spoke from the doorway. Kettrick had no idea how long he had been there, listening. Now he came in and closed the door.

"Why don't you tell her what happened, Johnny? I'm sure we'd both like to know."

"No," said Larith, "Not now, it isn't important now." She went to Sekma. "I found out somethingabout Seri, just a little while ago. Since I came here to join him. I'm not sure of all the details. This isn't a thing that's safe to talk about, he warned me of that." She paused to get her breath, and then plunged on.

"He's been involved in this for a long time, I guess. Now he and the others...some of them very highly placed, Sekma, right here in Achern...they're about to do something they've planned for years.

They're on their way now."

She paused again, and when she continued her voice had a different note.

"Have you ever heard of the Doomstar?"

"Yes," said Sekma. "I have."

"Then..."

She broke off. The plum-colored young Shargonese had ap-peared in the doorway.

"All ready, sir," he said.

Sekma nodded. He took Larith's arm and escorted her to-ward the door. "Come on, Johnny. Chai."

Larith said, "But where are we going?"

"I hope you can tell us that, Larith. In the meantime, just away from Kirnanoc. I've pulled rank here about as long as I can, and there are rumblings of approaching trouble."

Larith halted, turning a startled face to Sekma. "You mean you're taking me away? But I can't go, I hadn't planned I..."

"My dear," said Sekma, "after what you just told me, you have no choice. I wouldn't dare leave you here now, to the mercy of Ssessora."

"Oh," she said. "Then you know already."

The Shargonese said tactfully, "I think we'd better go along, sir."

"Some of it," said Sekma to Larith, and steered her firmly down the hall. "Not all, and that's another reason why I must take you with me. You may know something I don't, but I can't stay here to question you. Don't worry about it, we'll make the discomforts as light as possible."

She did not argue any more.

They pa.s.sed quickly through the building and out the door to the private landing field. Several I-C men were already there. So were Boker, Hurth, and Glevan, but there was no time for much in the way of a reunion. They were hustled into trams and carried out toward the three s.h.i.+ps on the I-C pads.

There appeared to be two of them readying for takeoff. One was a small light-armed cruiser of the type used for regular patrol duty. The other stood about twice as tall in its pad, and there were ominous hatches here and there where no hatches ought to be. This was one of the powerful Big Brothers...the ones the little cruisers sent for when they couldn't handle a job themselves.

Kettrick knew they were fast. Certainly faster than Grellah, faster than Starbird or any merchant craft. Perhaps faster than a yacht like Silverwing?

He did not allow himself to hope.

He looked at Larith in the seat ahead of him, sitting quietly beside Sekma, her shoulders bowed a little and the night wind in her hair. He did not allow himself to hope there, either.

The trams split up, taking some of the I-C men to the small cruiser. The rest continued on to the big one. In a very few moments Kettrick was scrambling up the steps after Grellah's crew, with Chai and the Shargonese and a couple more I-C men behind him. Sekma had gone first, with Larith.

The inside of the s.h.i.+p was not at all like Grellah. Every-thing was clean and unrusted. Everythingworked. There was military order and efficiency, none of the slovenly com-fort of Grellah's bridgeroom.

Kettrick saw Boker looking around him with a sneer for all the spit-and-polish.

"Poor old Grellah," he said. "I hate to leave her."

"You can stay if you like," said Sekma.

Boker s.h.i.+vered. "Thanks," he said, "but I don't love even my mother that much."