Goth was awake in there. Was she all right? Could she breathe? Or was it like traveling by the Egger Route . . . did she need to?
The door to the hold opened cautiously. A figure with a Blythe gun in hand stepped though.
Hantis smiled foxily. "I couldn't be really sure it was your voice, Captain."
"Hantis!" exclaimed the captain.
She bowed slightly. "Pul is in the control room with the prisoners. We're in trouble, Captain Pausert."
The captain pointed to Goth and the Leewit. "You're telling me. I've put them into some kind of shield. If I can't get them out, then we can't use the Sheewash Drive."
Hantis drew her brows together. "That actually makes it worse. But the problem's immediate. The ISS heard your call to Sboro about the explosives. They just attempted to contact him on the ship communicator rather than his ISS device. They warned him that they think that there may be fake ISS operatives trying to board this ship. I think we can be sure that atmospheric craft have been scrambled and are on their way here."
Pausert pushed wearily off the wall. "Well, let's get everyone into acceleration couches and show them what the old Venture can do. We'll go down fighting if we can't get away. Come on, we need to carry Goth and the Leewit."
"She's moving around in there," said Vezzarn looking at Goth. "Do you think the little Wisdom will be able to free herself?
"We haven't got time to find out right now," said Hulik. "If we use a blanket we can make it into a stretcher of sorts. That will be quickest."
* * *
Up in the control room they found an ISS agent and a nervous-looking pilot.
On the floor.
Pul was standing over them with a long piece of ISS uniform collar in his jaws. "The churls called me a dog, Hantis. Can I rip their throats out?"
"It's no use, lady," said the pilot, looking nervously at the grik-dog's powerful jaws. "I won't fly this craft. Not even if you kill me."
"Dead men don't pilot spaceships anyway," said Pausert tiredly. "Tie them up. We can go and dump them in their loader."
Two to a prisoner, they hastily carried the pilot and agent out to the ISS vehicle, and tossed them onto the loadbed. Vezzarn hopped into the cab, engaged the vehicle's engine and leaped out. At a run, they sprinted back to the Venture. A bolt of blasterfire licked out at them, adding impetus to their pace.
Once into the control room Pausert scrambled for the control chair, and began initiating the blast-off sequence. "Sorry, Goth, this is an apology in advance. This is going to be one of my bad take-offs."
It was. But it was also too fast for the two atmospheric craft that came racing in from an airfield several thousand miles off. The Venture staggered into space, farther and farther from Pidoon. As the planet dropped away below them Pausert felt relief. But he was aware that the fuel gauges were dropping fast. They were already using the reserve tanks.
The detectors started to bleep. "Imperial Navy ships, Captain," said Vezzarn grimly.
They didn't even make an effort to hail the Venture. They were already firing. Even yelling that there was an ISS man on board helped not at all. Pausert pushed the thrust down to maximum.
The Venture's drive surged. And stuttered. A wall of navy fire fell just short. The three Imperial vessels that were racing towards them would be in range for their next salvo. "The nova guns, Captain . . ."
The Venture suddenly surged again, leaping as if a wasp had stung her. Pausert felt the wonderful, familiar surge of the Sheewash Drive. Looking across at Goth he saw the acceleration nets still covered her couch. Covered an invisible cocoon, in fact. But inside that cocoon, the twisted black wires and strange orange fire of the Sheewash Drive danced. He was almost too tired to wish he knew how it worked. Relief—and exhaustion coming like a wave—overcame him.
CHAPTER 9
When he awoke, with a start, the captain found that someone had covered him up with a blanket. He was still sitting in the command chair in the Venture's control room. Looking out of the forward viewscreens showed nothing but an emptiness of space.
So they'd gotten away. Away in a leaking-hulled vessel with absolutely no fuel. There might be a drop or two in the lateral rocket tanks but other than for docking, those were next to useless. He looked sideways. Goth was still lying above the acceleration couch, surrounded by a layer of nothingness.
"I see you are awake, Captain," said Hantis. "Good. We must try to undo this shield you have put around Goth and the Leewit." She looked curiously at him. "I was not told that you were such a powerful klatha operative."
"I'm not. I seem to learn how to do things by accident," admitted Pausert. "I don't know what I've done, or how to undo it." He looked at the Nartheby Sprite. "Goth said you were klatha-skilled too, Hantis. Can you get her out of there?"
Hantis shook her mane of foxy hair. "No. It is very difficult for one klatha operative to undo the work of another. Each person's skills seem to be unique, even if they sometimes achieve the same thing. My skills, anyway, lie with levitation, truth hearing and music. They would be of little help to you. But perhaps Goth herself can help."
Pausert sat up hastily and looked at Goth. "But how? I mean . . ."
"The same way she got the wires necessary to run the Sheewash Drive. She teleported them across the barrier. She can do that with notes even if she can't talk to you."
"And the Leewit?" asked Pausert.
Hantis smiled impishly. "Has been awake, and, by her expressions, whistling and screaming. We can't hear her, of course. Oh, and she's been showing you a number of rude signs. Your little vatch came earlier too. Even it can't get into the shield. Anyway, the Leewit is asleep again."
Pausert blinked. "Again? Have I been asleep long?
"About fifteen hours," Hantis said. "Most klatha use is demanding on the user's energy. It looks like you came pretty close to burning yourself out, Captain Pausert. Sometimes new klatha users die like that. You must be careful."
"I only did it because there seemed no alternative. I feel as if I haven't eaten for a week, never mind slept for fifteen hours. I'll just see to Goth and then it's food!"
Goth smiled up at him from her shield cocoon. She held up a sheet of paper she'd prepared. It read: Hello, Captain.
Pausert started to reply, realized what he was doing, and looked for writing materials. They were sitting ready on the console next to Goth. Painstakingly he wrote down what he had done and asked for advice.
He waited. Goth was plainly consulting with her inner "teacher," the pattern of her mother Toll.
She wrote: You could try doing it backwards, Captain. See the pattern and then trace it backwards.
He nodded, and took a deep breath. She scrawled something hastily. Eat first. Then, when he'd seen that, she scrawled: Dangerous.
Pausert realized she was right. Using klatha in ways that you weren't sure about could be very dangerous—and it certainly wasn't something he should try when lack of food made him feel quite light-headed. Besides, he just couldn't visualize the pattern.
So he ate. He also took a quick shower and changed into fresh clothes. He cursed the loss of his best boots, and dug a spare pair out of his locker. They didn't fit as well as the his old ones, but he supposed he'd just have to live with it. He wasn't going to get back to Nikkeldepain and Hildo and Naugaf for another pair, ever. Not while his erstwhile about-to-be father-in-law lived, anyway.