two men signed the agreement. Twenty-eight Mymurth for sale to Cirag, forty percent of the proceeds to be returned to Pat McGreavy at South City, Coriolis 7, Xezaor.
If McGreavy was right, and the money was forthcoming from the religious nutcases on Cirag…
Where was Cirag?
… the Nemesis could be equipped with beam lasers, extra missiles, extra shield energy units, and an energy bomb, and the hunt could begin in earnest.
Alex returned to his ship to report on the day's trading.
Chapter seven
They had been set up, of course.
And in a way, they went into the set-up gamely. Alex checked up on the planet Cirag and discovered that it was not listed with the Official Planetary Register. That was the reason for its unfamiliar name. Not to be registered was not in itself unusual. Only inhabited worlds were listed.
There were millions of inhabited star systems of use to miners, traders and explorers, which could only be located by reference to the Galactic Gazatteer of Worlds.
But Cirag was inhabited by intelligent beings.
That meant just one thing: Cirag was an independent world, had refused Federation status, was dangerous, probably deadly, most likely the haven for freebooters and criminals, and almost certainly a system in which the general principle of 'laser first, talk second' was applied.
We've got to be crazy…' Elyssia said.
Alex agreed. 'Could Cirag be Raxxla? Could it be the world my father mentioned before he died?'
'No way. Cirag is Cirag, and Raxxla — if it exists — is in another Galaxy; you know the legends. Cirag is just a hell-hole of a world, by the sounds of it. Give the guy his turtles back. Let's trade life-bones.'
But Alex said no. Something about the whole deal, about the way he felt manipulated, guided, had whet his appetite for this venture. There was good money to be made, and the Nemesis could finally equip itself to perfection.
And the hunt could begin. Vengeance could begin.
'It's hit or miss, right? And in Rafe's eloquent language, we'll not know a goddam about any failure.'
'We've got to be crazy…' Elyssia repeated.
'Let's not talk to any strangers, at least…'
Out of Witch-Space.
The planet Cirag floated before them, a pastel yellow world, the dark markings upon its surface — mountains, probably, or deserts — forming a pattern that reminded Alex of bones. At nineteen light years from Xezaor, the Nemesis had made two refuelling stops, and as they came into System Space they had energy enough for a two-light-year jump only. The nearest world, Alex knew, was more than twice that distance away.
No matter With their new fuel scoop they would simply transit the sun's corona, and recharge the fuel cells.
Cirag's sun was a large, yellow star, old, but with much life left in it yet. It was active, too. As Elyssia — at the astrogation console — turned towards it, so two immense streamers of fire were erupting from its surface, whirlpools of plasma that were spectacular when seen through the Nemesis's polarising filters.
'Let's catch some of that heat,' Elyssia said, and punched for top speed.
The Nemesis surged forward.
But they flew for no more than a minute.
'Holy Mother of the Stars!'
Alex stared at the scanner screens and felt his stomach turn over. The bright marks there were so large that they could only be Boa or Anaconda class cruisers. They had formed an attack pattern, four large ships, surrounded by the darting points of light that was its fighter escort.
On the viewscreen, against the glowing sun, the assault group were dark smears, rapidly closing.
'Boas,' Elyssia said. 'They're set up as fighter cruisers, by the look of it. At least they're slow. Hang on…'
Alex gripped his seat, then grimaced as he fell for the same trap that his father had always set for him. But this time it was as well that he secured himself. The universe shifted; his body organs did somersaults. Elyssia feigned an escape loop, and the fighters — Mambas by the looks of them — broke formation and went into the scatter mode that meant pursuit. But Elyssia completed the loop to come full back against the looming pirate craft.
She sailed under the belly of the leader with as much calm and cheek as you please. It belly-shot at them, and she rolled the Cobra so that she could side-strafe back. All along the Boa's under-belly, shards and sparks flew brightly where the shields were lowered around the laser housings.
'Markings are unfamiliar…' Alex said. There had been black and green flags with bright sunbursts on them, and non-terrestrial ideographs on the sides.
'Intentions very familiar…' Elyssia breathed. Behind them, two of the Mambas were closing fast. Pulses of laser fire made eerie streaks in the dark circle of space around the glowing sun ahead of them.
The huge ships had turned too, and were accelerating towards them. Elyssia made it clear, without speaking, that they'd never reach the star and have time to refuel. Alex, never taking his eyes from the scanners, knew as much.
Elyssia rolled the Cobra and turned to fight. She targeted a missile and dispatched it on the turn, and the nearest fighter became a glittering dust cloud. The other streaked fire across the forward shields, and the Nemesis shuddered and whined. Two stabs of her finger on the sidefire button, and the second Mamba tumbled, its shields still up, its pilot disorientated by the unexpected hit. Elyssia closed in for the kill…
Killed.
One of the Boas loamed large from the darkness. It was rolling slowly, and beams of light played from its spike nose. Elyssia targeted a missile.
Sweat ran freely from her face, and her hands were white with tension.
Alex, feeling helpless, gripped the sides of his chair, leaning forward, jumping and starting in sympathy with every sudden movement, every avoiding action.
The Boa ECM'd the missile before it had gone a tenth of the distance between the two ships. The Nemesis slid smoothly along its belly and again turned side on, strafing the sensitive underparts as it matched the giant's slow roll.
And then it happened. From somewhere, out of nowwhere, pulsing laser fire made a direct aft hit on them. The Nemesis shuddered and stuttered and was forced into a rapid, dizzying roll. Alex swore, feeling his body wrenched by the seat harness. The shock had nearly taken his head off. He straightened up, assessing the situation: there were two Mambas behind, and they were closing rapidly on the maw of an Anaconda; it hovered there in the void, like a giant net waiting to swallow them.
'Let's see you get out of this…' Alex said loudly, and glanced at Elyssia to see why she was running so straight.
She was slumped in her chair. Blood flowed freely from her scalp and nose.
Her eyes were closed. She must have had her seat belt too loosely fastened, and had struck the console when the cobra had bucked.
Alex leapt from his co-pilot's seat and literally wrenched the woman free, throwing her to the floor. This was no time for courtesy. He buckled in, stabbed fire at the Anaconda's ram-scoop, then overflew, dodging laser and outrunning a missile, which then closed on him with alarming speed before he was able to destroy it.
The planet Cirag was ahead of them once more. He began to run for safety, and then thought an alarming thought: what guarantees did he have that the Coriolis network would protect him if he got in range? He had no such guarantee. The space stations were as likely to be against him as the ships that pursued him.
But if he could let them know what he carried, if he could communicate that he carried their god creatures,
