nodded at the technician to leave. The man hastened to exit. Marten glanced once more at the glaring Octagon. Then he, too, took his leave, closing the hatch behind him.
-13-
Marten floated into a small chamber connected to the pod hatchways.
Yakov waited there together with five blue-uniformed guardians. Each had a drawn hammer-gun and wore hard expressions.
“You freed the cyborg,” Yakov said. “You knew my wishes concerning that. Why did you do it anyway?”
“I needed her help to capture Tan,” Marten said.
“What?” asked a ship-guardian, an angry man with flat features and a chin-beard. “What have you done to the Strategist?”
Yakov glanced at the angry man.
“Answer me, barbarian. Where is Strategist Tan?”
“Restrain yourself, Anshan,” Yakov said.
“He harmed the Strategist,” Anshan said.
“I’m sure she is well.”
Anshan squinted suspiciously at Yakov. “Was that your doing, Force-Leader?”
“You will refrain from questioning me.”
Anshan reddened, and he tightened the grip on his hammer-gun. “You’re avoiding answering me.”
“Enough of this,” Yakov said. “You must tell me now. Where does your ultimate allegiance lie, with them or us?”
Anshan blinked three times. Lines appeared on his forehead the first time and deepened with each blink. “No!” he shouted. “The barbarian must possess mind-altering powers to have convinced you to harm a strategist, a philosophically pure governor.”
“You swore on the Manumission Decree,” Yakov told the man.
Anshan violently shook his head. “You’re breaking Article Four of the Dictates.”
“He is under a compulsion,” another ship-guardian whispered. “They tampered with his mind.”
Anshan raised his hammer-gun at Marten. “You have defied the Dictates, barbarian.” As the others watched in amazement, Anshan pulled the trigger.
Nothing happened.
Anshan’s eyes widened so the whites seemed to drown his pupils. He twisted around, aiming the gun at Yakov. “You are party to secession! That is mutiny, which I am sworn to forestall!”
Marten fast-drew. There were crackling sounds as heavy needles broke the sound barrier. Anshan sagged as shock crossed his flat features. Then he slumped down.
The other ship-guardians pushed away from Anshan. One was open-mouthed. Another trembled. A third whispered, “They had a deep plant among us. We’re compromised.”
The ship-guardians glanced uneasily at one another and then suspiciously eyed Marten.
“I just saved your life,” Marten told Yakov.
By a visible effort, Yakov spoke. “Anshan was from Europa. The arbiters are known to use compulsions there. He must have slipped past our auditors, or his compulsion was coded to selected actions.”
“We must log this death with Arbiter Station,” a ship-guardian said, the tight-faced woman from earlier. She had thin nostrils and a line of a mouth covered with black lipstick. Marten had heard someone call her Pelias earlier. The ring of her gun-hand looked sharp, making it seem as if she enjoyed giving pain.
Yakov made a harsh sound, startling the others. “Each of you took an oath on the Manumission Decree. Does that mean nothing to you?”
“Has the call been broadcast?” Pelias asked. “Are we seceding?”
“You’ve seen the Mars videos,” Yakov said. “The cyborgs are deadly creatures—murderous aliens of inhuman effectiveness. Those creatures have come to our system and likely infiltrated Guardian Fleet warships. Tell me, Pelias Will you trust your life to a philosopher or do you wish for a realist, a man of action like me, to handle the situation?”
Pelias squinted at Marten. “The barbarian released a cyborg.”
“That one is deprogrammed,” Yakov said. “But you’re missing the point. You swore on the Decree.”
The fingers of her gun-handed whitened. “Are we seceding?” Pelias asked stubbornly.
Yakov stared at her. “I am taking control of the
Pelias studied Marten more closely. “Why didn’t Anshan’s gun work against the barbarian?”
Yakov turned to Marten. “The shock trooper has obviously purloined a nullifier.”
“From Strategist Tan or the Arbiter?” Pelias asked.
“Those from Callisto have become our enemies,” Yakov said slowly. “Therefore, you shouldn’t sound dismayed at their loss of status. Taking a nullifier, it was a tactical move on his part. Notice, he has made no attempt to elevate his status.”
“Is that true?” Pelias asked. “It was a tactical move?”
Marten nodded.
Pelias scowled even as she holstered her hammer-gun.
“Go back to your stations,” Yakov said. “Await further orders and be ready to act in accord with the Manumission Decree.”
Pelias hesitated.
“On this ship,” Yakov said, staring at her, “we have seceded.”
Pelias’s scowl smoothed away. She motioned to the others. They took Anshan’s corpse, floating out of the chamber.
After they left, Yakov put his forehead against a bulkhead, squeezing his eyes shut. When he opened his eyes and faced Marten, he said, “I owe you my life.”
“You saved ours before by rescuing us from the pod.”
Yakov moved away from floating blood globules. He seemed more composed again, more like the Force-Leader in the command room. “You have purloined a nullifier, a cagy move. You have thereby proven yourself even more mentally dexterous and dangerous than I’d expected. That compounds my anxiety regarding you.”
“It should make you feel better,” Marten said. “We’re on the same side, and you need competent help. If more of your crew mutinies, you have soldiers willing to gun them down to bring the others back into line.”
“That should ease my anxiety about you?”
“Who else can I turn to but you?” Marten asked. “That ensures my loyalty, which is what you’re really worried about.”
Yakov pondered that. “Where is the cyborg?”
“In Octagon’s former chamber.”
“Former?”
“I’m commandeering it,” Marten said.
“And no doubt familiarizing yourself with his devices.”
“Force-Leader, you strike me as the deadliest Jovian I’ve met, the one most likely to defeat the cyborgs. I kidnapped the Strategist for you, slew the myrmidons and put the Arbiter aboard the altered pod like you asked. What more can I do to make you trust me?”
“Return the cyborg to the holding cell.”
Marten shook his head. “You’re going to need Osadar before this is through, especially if cyborgs storm your ship.”
Yakov studied the blood globules. “Will you come with me to the command room?”
“By all means,” Marten said.
