"I used to think they were rather attractive starships," Aram quipped grimly, swiveling in his recliner.
"Yeah," Brim answered. "Surprising how your mind can change about things. Get on the KA'PPA and see if you can...."
Space went wild as all four Starfuries opened up at the same time, battering the little ship in a zigzag path with tremendous explosions to port and starboard.
Self-preservation instincts took over Brim's reflexes. Defying everything he knew about spaceframe safety, he kicked the steering engine hard to starboard, pulled the helm right back, then sideways in one seamless movement. The violence of the maneuver took him by surprise, too. Even the Hyperscreens blacked out in confusion and the whole ship groaned in strident protest. As the others shouted in consternation, Brim was flung violently against his restraints, grunting in pain while his shoulders and pelvis were nearly crushed by the straps.
But it saved them... .
When the screens cleared, Brim found he'd put the little ship on its back in relation to the Starfuries, which—surprised at his unexpected movement—passed by in a great rush of gravitons. Again, entirely by instinct, he pulled the helm and straightened out, running the powerful Leaguer Drive at military overload directly into the teeth of the graviton stream. Somehow, the little Gorn-Hoff managed to stay in one piece.
Saved for the moment, he thought—but for what? There was nowhere to hide, and the Starfuries would be back on him in a moment.
"DON'T SHOOT. WE'RE IMPERIALS," Aram KA'PPAed.
"What's going on?" Onrad demanded in a dazed voice. "Those're Starfuries out there."
"Couple of loyal subjects, Your Majesty," Brim said as the KA'PPA display remained blank,
"merely doing their duty for the Empire."
"You mean...?"
Brim ground his teeth, trying to stabilize the little 219 as best he could—his attitude indicators had been confused since the first disrupter shot. "The bastards are thraggling playing with us!" he explained.
"We're just a couple of Leaguers to them."
"They must know we're unarmed," Oodam complained in an outraged voice.
Brim tried all the controls. Everything seemed to answer. Normal Drive crystal temperature—the bastards hadn't hit anything vital. "Armed or unarmed," he replied at length, "smoking us to space dust counts toward somebody's score."
"Universe," Onrad whispered.
"Here they come again!" Aram warned as a great flash of light and energy concussion blasted them sideways.
Brim skidded toward the blast, just as a second explosion erupted in the position they'd occupied only moments before. "Poor shooting," he growled to no one in particular. "Must be a couple of rookies."
"EMERGENCY! EMERGENCY!" Aram KA'PPAed amid Brim's violent maneuvering and the murderous near misses. "WILF BRIM IN GORN-HOFF 219 WITH FLUVANNIAN
AMBASSADOR AND SPECIAL PASSENGER UNDER ATTACK BY STARFURIES. PLEASE
ASSIST. PLEASE ASSIST."
Abruptly, the shooting stopped—but not because of the messages. Peering out the Hyperscreens in surprise, Brim watched a brace of Gorn-Hoff 262s streak in from HyperSpace behind two of the Starfuries, one of which exploded in a huge, roiling ball of radiation flame. There were no lifeglobes—the cold-hearted Imperials had paid the price for negligence. The remaining three Starfuries immediately dismissed their smaller prey and turned to meet the Leaguers, their disrupters flashing brightly in the blackness.
Brim needed no urging. Putting the helm over once again, he drove off across the void in a straight line for Avalon.
"EMERGENCY! EMERGENCY!" Aram KA'PPAed again. "WILF BRIM IN GORN-HOFF
219 WITH FLUVANNIAN AMBASSADOR AND SPECIAL PASSENGER UNDER ATTACK
BY STARFURIES. PLEASE ASSIST. PLEASE ASSIST."
Moments later, the KA'PPA came alive—only now, the language it displayed was Vertrucht.
"GLAD TO ASSIST, MY OLD ADVERSARY," it read. "I LOOK FORWARD TO GREETING
YOU—AND YOUR 'SPECIAL PASSENGER' IN EFFER'WYCK. YOU WILL, OF COURSE, CEASE KA'PPA BROADCASTING." It was signed simply, "VALENTIN."
CHAPTER 7
Eve Cartier
Brim hardly needed to glance out the side Hyperscreen when his proximity alarm screamed again and a large starship hove into sight just off the port side. It was one of the Leaguers' new GH 270-A attack craft, and every one of its disrupters seemed to be pointing at his very forehead! He laughed in spite of himself. How Valentin had pulled that off, he'd never know! But then, if the wily Leaguer were nothing else, he was resourceful. He pursed his lips and considered for a moment. "We probably ought to try broadcasting another KA'PPA message anyway," he shouted to Onrad. "It's the only weapon we've got—and you can bet that zukeed Leaguer is dying to learn who our 'special passenger' is, so he xaxtdamned well won't be shooting to kill. How do you feel about that, Your Majesty?"
The Emperor thought about that for only a moment, then laughed. "It's all right with me, Brim," he laughed. "I've got nothing to lose. Oodam? How about you?"
"Why not?" Oodam grumbled.
"Aram?" Brim asked.
"I'm game, too," the A'zurnian replied. "What do you want to send?"
"Something short," Brim mused, "Like, 'WILF BRIM AND SPECIAL PASSENGER
ABOARD CAPTURED GH 219. UNDER ATTACK. HELP.' Put it out all in a burst." he ordered,
"then hang on to anything you can grab, all of you. And set your suits for minimum freedom again. They'll want to make certain we don't do that again. Understand?"
"Understand," Aram said, starting to key in the message.
"In the back there," Brim prompted. "You hear that."
"Yeah," Onrad grunted. "We heard. We're set."
"Ready? Aram?"
"Ready, Wilf...."
"Send it," Brim said through tight lips, ready to fight the controls through the punishing barrage he knew would follow their message: near misses, calculated to destroy the 219's ability to communicate—or do much else, for that matter. He took a deep breath, crossed his arms over this faceplate, and braced himself for the worst.
And braced.... And braced-----
"Great thundering Universe!" rumbled Onrad's surprised voice from the passenger compartment.
"Will y' look at that!"
Brim cautiously opened his eyes, expecting any moment to be blinded by the flash of a disrupter.
It didn't happen. Next, he carefully scanned the Hyperscreens and... Voot's greasy, vermin-infested beard! Now there were five large starships driving through space behind him. The four newcomers were Starfuries, and all fifty-six of their mighty disrupters were trained on Valentin and his Gorn-Hoff.
Unfortunately, the latter's disrupters were still pointed at his own personal forehead! A standoff if he'd ever heard of one! Rolling his eyes in absolute disbelief, he glanced down at the KA'PPA display, which was now displaying a question—in Avaionian. "QUESTION FOR WILF BRIM: WHAT
LOGISH MEEM DID SISTER EVE ENJOY RECENTLY DINING WITH A FELLOW
CARESCRIAN?" It was signed, "E. CARTIER, LT. COMMANDER, I.F."
"Eve!" Brim gasped over the voice circuits.
"Huh?"
"Er, nothing, Your Majesty," he replied, turning in his seat. "But it seems as if the ball has passed back to our Empire."
"So it would seem," Onrad whispered while he peered out the Hyperscreen port beside him. It was the first time Brim had ever heard an Emperor flabbergasted.
Come to think about it, he was a bit flummoxed himself. In short order, he had to somehow remember what meem he had ordered the night he'd had supper with the beautiful Carescrian. Dammit, where was Barbousse when he needed him? He'd know; it was he who had researched the spirits in the first place. Soma-Medoc, was it? The FleetPort 19 wardroom had a lot more of that than... Wait! There had also been a case of Manor-Savill as well. But they'd both been from the early teens. What was the other... "Logish Medoc fifty one oh nineteen!" he bellowed abruptly.