Chief of the Command, Commodore Lawrence H. Clegg, greeted H. T. Murgatroid as he stepped once more onto the I. S. S. Universe, his massive new 24-point ship. The design was Murgatroid’s own, and the ship was one of the finest in the Human Expanse. It also had one of the finest and best trained crews, fully in tune with their commander’s moods. And needs.
“Welcome back, Sir,” said Clegg. “Shall I call for your wench?”
“Who has duty today?”
“Lucretia, Sir.”
“Hmmm. Tempting. I like her. But, no. Not yet.” H. T. headed straight for his command center and settled into his large chair. His custom-designed command console spread before him in a 140-degree arc. Although he had a command staff in the room with him as well, he wanted himself to be able to monitor and communicate with any aspect of the ship’s operation. H. T. was a micro-manager.
“We need to send this first,” H. T. said, handing Clegg a roughly hewn message.
Clegg hesitated as he read his commander’s scrawl. “Uh, sir, this is to Mr. Argyle.”
“You think?” H. T. settled back into his chair and glared at his underling. He turned back to his console, reviewing ship status and operations with a practiced eye. “Also, set course for the Emerald Star.”
Clegg’s eyes widened and he swallowed hard, “But, sir, the Emerald Star “¦”
”I know, dammit,” H. T. bellowed. “Just do it!”
”Yes, sir.” Clegg turned to relay commands to the message center and the pilots, then added, “Oh, sir: an all-call message from North System came in while you were on the planet. You may want to see it. It’s on your console.”
“OK.” H. T. punched his yellow Messages button and a pale blue screen came alight. He read quickly, then muttered, “What the hell?” The message read:
|
Wide transmitted message from: Tri-lar, From: Arch-Illian Constance FRENETIC To: All allies and enemies and all in between Message: This is Arch-Illian Constance FRENETIC to all who are interested. A substantial reward has been posted for Golan, Hammer Thinker-Inventor-Cursed, for crimes against the Tri-larian government, the Tri-larian people and all of the Human expanse. He was last seen transiting to K-Space on a trajectory from Tri-Lar to ID in a 2 point craft; he was subsequently lost somewhere in K-Space. The Tri-larian government will pay for his capture in any condition as long as he is able to speak. He is to be considered armed and extremely dangerous, and it is advised that you do not turn your back on him. Craft; 2 Point attack fighter, apparently home made, and resembling a large black bird. Unknown type of armament. Hammer Thinker-Inventor-Cursed; Very intelligent, must be watched around equipment, has an aptitude for making devices, uses what is on hand to develop new devices, no known co-conspirators. |
The “new message” light continued to flash as H. T. read through again. Very strange, he thought. Transiting from Tri-Lar to Id. But why this from the Arch-Illian? The Arches never send such crap. And who is this Hammer guy that he is so important? So what if he can make his own ship? And only a 2-point at that. But he calls it an attack fighter. An attack fighter. Is this another trick? Start of another goddamn Tri-larian assault?
“Clegg!” he shouted after the commodore. “Belay that last order! Set course for Id!”
“Yes, sir,” answered the much-relieved Clegg. He moved promptly and efficiently to execute H. T.’s command.
H. T. leaned back in his chair to think. He pulled the minic from his kit bag and studied it, turning it in his hand. This may be getting more complicated than I thought, he mused.
Then, replacing the minic, he thought: long trip home still.
"Clegg," he barked. "Call for Lucretia!"
| < Prev | Next > |
|---|
