Before he had time to finish his sentence, the battle station fired a ray at the hapless tanker. The ray wasn’t powerful enough to destroy the tanker about to ram them. Janet had taken aim at the cargo hold. For almost three seconds, nothing happened. Then a scorched chunk of plating fell off. And a powerful stream of boiling mercury burst out of the tanker’s innards.
It was an enchanting sight. The tanker, shot through and boiling over, was still on a collision course with Mirror—except that the jet stream of mercury was slowing it down and reducing the tanker’s mass with every passing millisecond. It seemed as though the tanker had been transformed into a comet with a fiery tail of boiling mercury.
“What are you, nuts?!” shouted the tanker’s pilot. He had already realized that no one was going to destroy him, but losing all of his cargo was also a terrifying prospect. “We’ll take this to the tribunal!”
Alex didn’t bother answering. A joint commission of the union of pilots, Quicksilver Pit’s administration, and military detectives would investigate the incident. Alex didn’t doubt that his crew would be cleared of all charges. When everyone figured out what their entry into Cepheidean space would have led to, all the responsibility would be dumped on the tanker’s crew. And there would be nothing but praise for Janet.
“Mirror, hold your fire!” The guard officer was really aggravated. “Your next ray burst will be considered an act of aggression against the Empire!”
Well, yes. Theoretically the guard stations, as well as the hyper-channel, were Imperial property. But in reality they were eating out of the hands of the local officials, who would be very upset with the damage to the tanker and the loss of its cargo.
“The following is an order—”
But he had no chance to finish his phrase. Through a cloud of cooling mercury, brightly flashing against its protective force field, Mirror entered the hyper-channel.
Exactly on course to take the ship to Gamma Snakebearer.
Chapter 2
The gray tube of the hyper-tunnel seemed endless. They could all feel the ship’s movement, though it wasn’t very fast by planetary standards—about one hundred and eight miles an hour. It felt as though the yacht had turned into a land vehicle speeding along a dark tunnel.
All this had nothing to do with the ship’s actual speed, of course. These were purely subjective impressions.
“Fellow crewmembers, congratulations on a successful entry into the channel.” Alex paused for a moment. “Janet Ruello, doctor-spesh, I thank you, on behalf of the company, for your timely and decisive actions in an emergency situation.”
By saying this, he took all responsibility upon himself. If for any reason Janet’s shot at the tanker were to be reprimanded, Alex alone would bear the consequences.
“Thank you, Captain,” replied Janet.
Alex paused again.
“Janet, was that your own idea?”
“No, Captain. Pilot training on Edem included some nontraditional ways of affecting enemy vessels. Bronin spaceship reactors run on mercury… it was a lucky coincidence.”
“I wish I could thank your teachers personally, Janet.”
She smiled somewhat sadly. “Why not, Captain? In another three hundred years or so, when the quarantine field dissolves…”
“Captain, shall I prepare an official complaint to the union?” asked Generalov.
“That’s my job,” said Alex.
“You have extensive experience with judicial quibbling?” rejoined the navigator. “Of course, the report should bear your signature, but someone else can put it together…”
Alex didn’t hesitate for very long. When it came to concocting complaints, the navigator really was the most experienced member of the crew.
“All right, Puck. Prepare the document and send it to me for a signature. Don’t forget to stress the fact that our entry into Cepheidean space would have led to a customs search and imprisonment of our honorable Zzygou passengers. Morrison!”
“Yes, Captain.”
“The jump to Gamma Snakebearer will take six and a half hours. You have the bridge.”
“Aye-aye, Captain. Permission to perform intermediate maneuvers in the Gamma system?”
Alex smiled. Of course: piloting inside a hyper-channel was not any pilot’s idea of fun. Morrison seemed to have decided to eke out every good piloting opportunity he could.
“All right, Morrison. But don’t forget to call me to the bridge right before we exit the channel. The rest of the crew may now rest. Engineer, you may turn the reactor to minimal power output.”
While the ship slid through the invisible currents of hyperspace, it didn’t need much piloting, or energy, or defenses.
“I have the bridge, Captain,” said Morrison. Alex lingered for a moment, watching the colored lights melt into darkness—his crew leaving the control system.
“Be good, now…” whispered Alex. Not to the people—to his ship. A warm wave, gentle and soothing, washed over him in reply as if to say, “Don’t worry, everything will be fine…”
When only the emerald spiral was left in virtual space, Alex left.
The piloting chair straps clicked softly open. Alex got up, stretched his neck and shoulders, looked at the control screens. A smooth gray tunnel—the ship was sliding through the inner side of space. Morrison looked as motionless as a mannequin in the other pilot’s chair. Poor Morrison. He had no way of experiencing this ecstasy. It was great to be a pilot, but being a captain was so much more…
“Have a good shift, Xang,” said Alex gently and left the bridge.
Janet waved to him from afar. But Kim approached him decisively as he neared the door to his cabin.
“Not now, honey…” Alex took her by the shoulder. “I have an important meeting right now.”
Kim frowned.
“Alex, will I be hearing you say that all the time now?”
How was he to maintain any kind of discipline under such circumstances? The engineer, opening his own door, stared at them curiously.
“Kim, come see me in half an hour, okay?” He looked into her eyes. He had no idea what she must have heard in his voice, but she beamed and affected a slight, mocking drawl as she said:
“All right, A-lex…”
Another second, and she disappeared behind her door. Alex entered his quarters, shook his head. Yup. He had a problem. Kim’s specialization was making her seek his love… the one thing he couldn’t give her.
But he had more pressing matters to tend to.
“Computer, put me through to C-the-Third, captain’s priority, open channel.”
The screen came on. To Alex’s surprise, C-the-Third was in his bed, sleeping peacefully. The yacht gravity compensation system was strong enough to protect the passengers from gravity overloads upon tunnel entry, but the clone’s equanimity was in itself worthy of admiration. Either he didn’t give a damn about anything, or flew so often that he felt no trepidation before yet another hyper-jump.
“C-the-Third…”
The clone awoke instantly. One moment he was lying on the bed, wrapped tightly in his blanket, and the next instant he was standing by the side of the bed, looking at the screen.
“Captain here,” Alex felt compelled to say, for some reason. “Come to my quarters. Immediately.”
C-The-Third didn’t say a word. Only nodded and disappeared from the field of vision. Alex sat down in the chair, propped his chin with his fist. He was absolutely calm. The recent incident had taken so little real time that his body hadn’t even had a chance to react by releasing adrenaline. Everything was over. And all pilots were pre-programmed to not worry about misfortunes that hadn’t happened.