camera eye, and listened intently. He nodded once and turned back to me.
“You will understand our suspicions.” The same clipped, up-yours tone, but a hint of excitement got through. Good. “I presume that you have proofs for our inspection.”
I grinned harmlessly, gesturing behind me at the cramped lifebubble. “Herr Bergen, you can see that Victrix is unarmed, and I am the sole occupant. Even now I am at your mercy, my friend. A larger ship waits farther out to install a gravitic drive and make other modifications to Feynman. We felt that Victrix would be less threatening, so I came to you as an emissary”
I held back a grimace at the way the words tasted. There was at least a kernel of truth in what I said.
The Herrenmann said nothing. I was getting worried. “After all,” I continued, “you’re poking along. Once Feynman is retrofitted, you can be at Sol in a matter of weeks.”
He blinked. It must be pretty foul in there. The prospect of reaching Earth’s opulence so soon… That’s what I had working for me. Herrenmannen will be Herrenmannen.
I changed the subject “As for bonafides, I would think that Victrix’s own gravitic polarizer would be proof enough. But I do have holos and datadisks for your inspection, sir. They detail our victories against the ratcats.”
“I would like to see them,” replied my arrogant little friend across the empty kilometers. He did not sound convinced.
Time to play my trump card.
As if on sudden impulse I laid it down. “I do have one further piece of evidence you may find more persuasive,” I said in a carefully cheerful tone, reaching into the clear organiform bag I had kept clipped next to my crashcouch. “Or, more accurately, pieces of evidence.”
Smiling into the camera eye, I held up the engraved metal ring. Dozens of mummified kzinti ears swung gently in the slight breeze from the airplant ventilator gull. I selected one ear in particular, stretching it like an old fashioned Chinese parasol, displaying the crimson tattoos scrawled across the dried white tissue.
“Hen-Bergen, my friend, you are familiar the tabby rank? This particular ear was taken from a fleet captain, as you can see from the tattoo pattern.” I paused, flicking the edge of the ear with a finger for emphasis. “He did not approve of its removal, but I was indifferent to his remonstrations.”
Again, I had not lied.
Bergen’s voice was hoarse, and no longer haughty “How many do you have on that trophy ring?”
I could see many emotions in his eyes, thawing of Herrenmann reserve. They had not left the dried ears.
“Thirty-one. And your unspoken guess is quite correct, as well. It’s a kzin trophy ring.”
“How could you possibly-”
“Taken from yet another ratcat captain. Again against his will. Many of us in the Free Wunderland Space Navy have taken similar souvenirs. I thought that my own small trophy was an appropriate item for its present purpose, nicht wahr?”
The Wunderlander once more looked off camera for a moment, then squared his jaw. “I confess I find your evidence persuasive. And anyway, a ratcat warship would not bother with such a shadow play. They would hull us from outside our fields and have done.” His eyes became once again hard, making his asymmetric beard look still more ludicrous. “Herr Hochte, you may now negotiate through the ramscoop field lines to our main airlock-”
“Viel dank.” it is always best to let the customer draw the desired conclusions.
“-where you will be met. We remind you that you are being watched most carefully, and we have… resources… with which Feynman can be protected.”
Try to look concerned. “You still harbor suspicions, then?” I got it out calmly, with the slightest trace of sarcasm flavoring my words.
“We mean no insult-if you are who you claim to be.”
“I’m telling-”
“You must understand us, Herr Hochte. We carry the hope of Wunderland with us, and can take no chances with such a precious cargo.” He paused, his features once more unreadable.
Time for the icy, insulted manner. “I am a fellow human, as you know.”
He ignored it. “You understand that we cannot reduce or shape out our magnetics?”
“I know your specs, ja.” I let more irritation show in my tone and face. Careful…
Bergen paused for a moment, his iron Herrenmann expression softening just a bit. “Herr Hochte, I believe your story. After all, anyone meaning us ill could easily destroy us from a distance, is it not so?”
Yes, I thought to myself, that is one way to think of it. I nodded at Bergen with false satisfaction.
Bergen nodded back once in reply, his face again tight and haughty. “Feynman out.”
So far, so good, I thought grimly.
The viewscreen dissolved to holographic snow. I had been dismissed. No matter that I was supposedly saving his ass. Is still just a ground-grubber Prole in his book.
I took a few deep breaths to calm my nerves. Then back to work, careful work. No room for mistakes.
It took half an hour, just optimizing the gravitic polarizer to full power. Then I laid in my macros, routines which would take me slipping through magnetic field lines. My now-familiar headache began to pound once again as the polarizer came fully on line, and carried me toward the slowboat.
It took over an hour to gingerly navigate among the magnetic field lines, headed toward the main airlock of Feynman. The fields here were strumming with tension-ten kilo Gauss, easy Magnetic field lines are like rubber bands that can never break-but you can stretch them. I had to worm my way through the steep gradients, while plasma hailed against my hull. The field lines stretch, all right-and they can snap back. That would not be good.
Each klick I slithered through felt like it took a day. I knew the slowboat crew could kill me instantly with the slightest change in the fluxline configuration. Or boil me to vapor with the signal laser, if they wanted to make a nice gaudy splash.
Not that it would be so damn bad. At least it would be over then. And why wait for them to make a move? Part of me wanted to die, vectoring right in under full acceleration, say, into the white-hot plasma plume-
But I knew what Kraach-Captain would then do. Who would really suffer as a result of my oh-so-noble gesture?
I was a traitor, yes, but not like Jacobi. Nothing like Jacobi. I had my reasons for serving the damned ratcats, four very good reasons: Sharna, Gretha, Henry and Hilda.
Kraach-Captain would keep his side of the bargain, if I kept mine. Maybe that was the only good side to the kzin. Come hell or high water, they kept their word. Predator’s honor.
Unlike almost any human-especially unlike Jacobi. Horrible to know that I could trust the word of an alien monster more than a fellow human.
Burnt-gold plasma curled and lashed around me. I kept away from the drive wash but errant coils fought up and down the field lines, bow turbulence. The gravitic polarizer whined that thrumming effort. Careful, careful… My target loomed large, a huge hull, raked and burned.
A slight jar as I grounded Victrix next to the main airlock. It loomed huge through the viewscreen, as did every visible aspect of the slowboat. I activated the magnetic grapnels. A hollow boom startled me-I was that tense-as we locked firmly against the slowboat.
On the viewscreen I could see the crew tunnel slowly arching toward my own airlock. Like an elephant’s trunk from an old history holocube, from a time when there had been elephants.
Clunk, whir-the slowboat airlock adapted to the geometry of my singleship airlock. The status board winked green and I keyed the airlock cycle.
You’re on, kid. This first part was easy…
I popped a stimulant to take the ragged edge from my fatigue. Everything depended on the next few hours. Everything.
The singleship airlock chimed and swung open silently. My ears popped a bit with a slight pressure drop. I left my helmet open in what I intended to be a demonstration of harmlessness. Yawning, concentrating on my lines, I grabbed access loops, and swung hand over hand into the dimly lit crew tunnel.
The far end of the crew tunnel was closed, of course. Final inspection time. Try to look like Karl Friedrich Hochte.
I crouched casually, bracing a foot and hand against the microgravity and smiled directly into the camera eye
