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  "Prime Minister, are you suggesting that we preemptively attack Selax?" Minister Lisaul asked in horror.

  "I'm only saying that we must develop plans for such an attack so that we'll be prepared once we finally have proof of their duplicity."

  "But Prime Minister," Minister Deruuw began, "we've found absolutely no evidence to suggest that Selax is behind, involved in, or even knowledgeable about these attacks. If we begin developing an attack plan, word could reach them."

  "So much the better. They'll know that they'd better cease these attacks immediately or face our devastating weapons. I want a plan developed that will lay waste to their entire planet. We didn't have such weapons a century ago, but we do now. We'll show them how Arrosians respond to acts of terrorism."

  * * *

  Chapter Three

  ~ January 17th, 2275 ~

  The small transport ship slipped into orbit around Scruscotto without incident and established an orbital track for landing. The ship carried no special markings, but was easily recognizable to anyone who'd seen it before. Patched repeatedly, through the several decades of its existence, with whatever materials were at hand when repairs were necessary, its appearance was— distinctive. Functionality came first, beauty came— well, actually, beauty never figured into it at all. Functionality was first, last, and always.

  With no planetary approach and departure control, near misses around Scruscotto were more common than anyone liked to admit. When departing the colony after their last visit, the Scorpion had just barely avoided becoming a large smear on the front of a three-kilometer long freighter that was entering orbit. It took all the expert piloting skills of Trader Vyx, the Scorpion's captain and pilot, to keep the ships from colliding. When the desperate maneuvers were complete, a mere dozen meters separated the two ships.

  The descent to the surface was peaceful enough as Vyx piloted the small ship to the Weislik Space Port. The slight semblance of traffic control at the various space ports that dotted the surface was helpful. Each port would queue takeoffs and landings at its own location, and it made things quite a bit safer in sub-orbital flight. No one wanted a hundred thousand tons of wrecked spacecraft landing on their town, or worse yet, their home. Larger freighters naturally remained in orbit and allowed their space tugs to ferry the containers of cargo up from, and down to, the surface. Ships that broke up due to collisions in orbit were less of a concern to the planetary inhabitants because there was always someone ready to salvage them before their orbit could destabilize enough to present a danger. Of course, there was always the peril of being struck by a small fragment that wasn't collected during the cleanup, but the mining planet was huge and sparsely populated, so the chances were small that any individual would be struck.

  Vyx allowed his ship to settle gently on a cushion of 'oh-gee' waves at the assigned landing pad. He cut the engines and permitted his almost six-foot body to slump in the pilot's chair, sitting quietly for several minutes as the tension drained.

  It was always like this on worlds without coordinated planetary approach or departure control. His two associates knew better than to waste effort trying to talk to him. Until the stress had drained from his system, he wouldn't respond to queries.

  As undercover agents for Space Command, Vyx, Byers, and Nelligen worked in environs where Space Command officers rarely traveled. As a line agent, Vyx performed jobs requiring quick wits and even quicker reflexes. Byers and Nelligen, officially listed as information agents, normally worked at menial jobs and collected interesting tidbits of information that they overheard, for later transmission to the Intelligence Section at Higgins Space Command Base. Stationed on the Gollasko Colony when Vyx arrived there to perform a mission, the pair found themselves caught up in Vyx's plan to intercept a large cache of illegal arms after the GA border expansion. The trio moved into the new Frontier Zone together to complete Vyx's original assignment.

  Since completing their mission, just a couple of months earlier, the trio had been without any specific assignment, so they traveled back to Scruscotto with a twofold purpose. They wanted to clear up a little side business related to the mission, and they needed to reestablish themselves in the criminal world.

  * * *

  Originally, the Galactic Alliance territorial delineation was a cylindrical area with a diameter of five-hundred light-years. It extended through the center plane of the Milky Way galaxy for a distance of five-hundred light-years above and below.

  In 2203, the Galactic Alliance expanded their borders by one-hundred parsecs, except where other nations had a prior claim to the space. Additionally, the new territory now included ALL space within the cylindrical boundary, meaning everything above and below the M'Way median plane. This 'Border Space' was intended mainly to act as a buffer with other nations.

  Immediately following the first expansion, almost sixty-one percent of the Galactic Alliance still bordered on space unclaimed by any nation. But shortly thereafter, the Kweedee Aggregate expanded its own border to include all space up to the new GA. It still left the GA with more than forty-seven percent of its territory bordering on open, unclaimed space.

  Insufficient resources meant that Space Command could not adequately patrol the newly claimed territory, so while they responded to calls for emergency assistance there, they didn't maintain any official bases in the space and never overtly enforced the laws of the Galactic Alliance. The resulting lawlessness was responsible for the territory becoming widely known as the Frontier Zone.

  When a criminal organization known as the Raiders became so powerful that they threatened the safety of citizens in 'Regulated GA Space', Space Command was finally allocated sufficient funding for the ships and resources they needed to clean up the nucleus of GA space. The efforts of Captain Jenetta Carver had been so instrumental in driving the Raider Organization to its knees, that in 2273, the Galactic Alliance Council, believing that they might finally be able to offer protection to the planets in the Frontier Zone, converted the former Zone to 'Regulated' space, and immediately laid claim to an additional one-hundred parsec wide swath of previously unclaimed space, thus establishing their lawful claim before any of the neighboring empires, kingdoms, dominions, confederations, or coalitions. With announcement of the expansion, every criminal in the 'prior' Frontier Zone, immediately began moving his operations to the 'new' Frontier Zone.

  * * *

  "I'll pay the landing fees and pad rent, then meet you at the Weislik Grand," Vyx said to Byers and Nelligen. "Someone arrange to restock our food stores and the other can arrange for three rooms."

  "I'll handle the food shopping," Nelligen said immediately, hoisting his tall, thin frame out of the copilot's chair that he had been occupying.

  "Oh no, you won't," Byers said, leaping up from the jump seat behind Vyx and using his shorter, slightly overweight body to block Nelligen's exit from the bridge. "We'll do it together or I do it alone. My stomach can't tolerate all that hot food that you buy."

  "Okay, we'll both do it. Let's go. We'll book the rooms first."

  Before exiting the ship, the three operatives donned the special equipment that would supplement the oxygen each individual could gather from the thin atmosphere on their own. Terraforming efforts had so far created a basic atmosphere, but only long time residents had become sufficiently accustomed to forego special apparatus. Contained in a soft bag about the size of a new born infant, the unit draws oxygen from the atmosphere. A small tube clips to the wearer's nose and releases the accumulated oxygen as needed. If you didn't over exert yourself, the release was minimal.

  The planet's slightly lower gravity added a spring to Vyx's step as he walked to the spaceport's office. As always, all eyes in the room carefully watched the business transactions of newcomers, making mental notes of everything that they saw or heard. Vyx recognized several faces among the half dozen or so species and nodded to them as he left. The paid watchers at the spaceport already knew his face, and several hurried to pass on informat
ion that the lean, mean-looking Terran with dark brown hair, brown eyes, and deeply tanned skin was back.

  Vyx took his time walking to the hotel, and found that Byers and Nelligen had completed making arrangements for the three rooms before he arrived. After registering his thumbprint, he went upstairs to take a long, hot, relaxing shower. When Byers com'd his room later, he agreed to meet his two associates in the lobby and they went in search of a place to eat dinner.

  Real Terran beef is a delicacy on Scruscotto, where the usual steak is a cut of Cheblookan Daitwa, a sort of domesticated horse-like creature found in a nearby system. After enjoying a genuine slab of beef, they had the waitress clear their dinner dishes and bring fresh tankards of a local ale. They were on their third tankard when the individual they were seeking finally arrived. The Wolkerron spotted them immediately and approached the table.

  "Welcome back to Scruscotto, gentlemen," the tall, thin Hominidae-like creature, with a long, yellow face and large black eyes, said. "I'm surprised to see you back so soon."

  "Have a seat, Ker," Vyx said, using his foot to push the chair opposite his, away from the table. After the Wolkerron had taken the proffered seat, Vyx asked, "Are you surprised to see us so soon, or just surprised to see us?"

  Ker Blasperra was instantly on his guard. The tone in Vyx's voice was ominous. "Why, to see you so soon, of course," the Wolkerron said pleasantly, offering what passed as his specie's equivalent of a grin, but which looked menacing to the uninitiated. "How is it that you're back here so soon?"

  "Shev Rivemwilth decided to alter the arrangements of the contract after we had loaded my ship with his ordnance. He stole the ship and marooned us at his former base."

  "I find that information most shocking, gentlemen. Shev Rivemwilth has always conducted his deals with honor. If your claim is accurate, this will seriously damage his reputation."

  "His reputation is no longer of concern to him. The survey team of a mining operation rescued us, but Shev Rivemwilth didn't fare as well. It seems I neglected to tell him about the timed explosive charges aboard my ship. Two weeks after he left us stranded, the ship was depressurized and Shev Rivemwilth died, along with his entire crew. He apparently couldn't suck vacuum any better than he could judge Terrans. Space Command discovered the ship floating dead in space. They've seized the ship and the cache of arms, and blamed the theft of the vessel on Rivemwilth. Case closed."

  "You set explosive charges aboard your own ship?" Blasperra asked incredulously.

  "Of course. When I'm aboard, I reset the timer every so often, but since I wasn't there, the timer ran all the way down. The Light Speed engines were immediately taken off line, all interior doors were opened wide and locked in that position, and dozens of tiny explosive charges, sufficient to evacuate the air before anyone could suit up in EVA suits, ended Shev Rivemwilth's career. I removed the control chip from all of the emergency rebreather masks just before we reached the RP because I didn't trust that ugly toad."

  "Very clever, Trader, very clever," the Wolkerron said somberly. "You're as dangerous an opponent as I've heard."

  "I always cover my bases, Ker. I may not be around to exact revenge personally, but it will always be exacted. Unfortunately for Shev Rivemwilth, he didn't learn that lesson until it was too late."

  "So I see. Are you available for new business then?"

  "Not until we settle our old business."

  "Our deal called for payment after a year and a half."

  "The deal was, 'when the job is complete, you'll transfer the entire amount into whatever account I name.' The contract is complete. In fact, Rivemwilth owes me about fifty-million credits more. That's my estimate for the value of the ship he stole from me. I'll settle for the five-hundred-thou now, and figure out how to get the rest later."

  "Trader, be reasonable. The money is invested and I can't withdraw the funds without losing all the interest that it's already earned."

  "That's too bad. I guess that as Rivemwilth's direct representative, his treachery will affect you also. At least you're alive— so far."

  Blasperra swallowed nervously. "I don't think that I can even get the credits, right now."

  Vyx narrowed his dark brown eyes, and fixed them on Blasperra, giving him a silent, withering look. Blasperra began to look exceptionally nervous. "I'll tell you what," Vyx finally said, "tell me where Rivemwilth's new base is, and I'll wait for the full year and a half."

  "Why, I don't know. Rivemwilth didn't trust me any more than he trusted anyone else."

  "Don't give me that. You wouldn't have represented him without knowing all the facts."

  "For an Alyysian of Shev Rivemwilth's reputation— and, shall we say, volatile nature— I— made certain exceptions."

  "If you don't know precisely where it is, you know approximately where it's located. Now either give me the information or get our money by tomorrow."

  Blasperra sat looking nervously undecided for a few seconds. "You're absolutely certain that Rivemwilth is dead?"

  "I am. You can verify that yourself if you have any contacts inside Space Command, although I'm sure that they've disposed of his desiccated corpse by now."

  "Alas, Space Command is not an easy organization to penetrate."

  "Then you'll have to take my word. My reputation among our brotherhood is as good as Rivemwilth's ever was, probably far better. I've never cheated a fellow trader or client."

  "I've heard nothing but positive things about you, your associates, and your deals," Blasperra said. After another short pause he added, "Since Shev Rivemwilth is no longer with us, I guess that I won't be betraying a trust." Lowering his voice, he said, "All I know for certain is that his new base is located in the Rhoitter system. He did mention once that it was on a moon similar to the one where his old base was located. I might know someone who can give you more information, but it will cost you." Blasperra stopped and immediately put up his hands when Vyx's expression changed. "Not for me, Trader. I arranged for the construction crews that Rivemwilth ferried to the moon, and although he never allowed them to know where they were, the foreman might be able to describe the moon, or perhaps the planet that it orbits because extensive exterior work was obviously required."

  "Who is it?"

  Blasperra wrote some information on a piece of paper and slid it over to Vyx. "I trust that you won't be expecting the five-hundred-thousand credits until the original term is up?"

  Vyx looked down at the paper, then back at Blasperra. "I always stand by my deals."

  Blasperra smiled with relief. "You're an honorable trader. If you need something to do after satisfying your quest, I'll find you a good deal. There's always plenty of work for people who can be trusted." Blasperra stood up, bowed slightly and left the restaurant.

  It took three days to track down the construction foreman who'd supervised the work at Rivemwilth's new base. The operatives found him working on a project for a mining company at another settlement. Vyx confronted him in a local bar after the construction crew had finished for the day. After hearing what Vyx was seeking, the man told Vyx, in very explicit terms, where he could go. But when Vyx held up a thousand-credit note, the man's eye's lit up. As he reached for the bill, Vyx yanked it away.

  "The information first, Darrigo."

  "I can't," the foreman said, as he looked greedily at the money. He was almost as big as Vyx, and looked nearly as mean, but he was out of shape, having spent too many nights drinking his dinner in whatever miserable hole of a town his company had sent him to. "Rivemwilth would kill me."

  "He won't be killing anybody; he's dead. His ship lost atmosphere while he was transporting his arms cache to the new base. Having a second heart didn't help him this time."

  "He's dead?"

  "Yup."

  "And you figure to help yourself to his base?"

  "That's none of your business. You only have to tell us what you know."

  "Uh, I'll tell you for a piece of the action. I want ten percent."


  "Ten percent of what?"

  "Ten percent of whatever deal you've got going."

  "Okay, you can have one of the empty storerooms in the new base— instead of the thousand credits."

  "Empty?"

  "Yeah. Space Command found Rivemwilth's transport and confiscated the entire arms inventory intended for the new base. As far as I know, the base is totally empty."

  "Then what do you want with it?"

  "That's our business. Do you want the thousand credits or not?"

  "Nobody's going to pay a thousand credits for nothing."

  Vyx put the thousand credit bill back into his pocket. Darrigo's eyes followed it until it disappeared from sight.

  As Vyx stood up and prepared to leave, Darrigo said, "You'll never find it without my help."

  "Yes we will. You see, we know the system where it's located, and we know the way that Rivemwilth liked to hide his base entrances. We'll find it. Your information could have saved us weeks of mapping effort though. Good-bye, Darrigo."

  "Wait a minute," Darrigo said. When Vyx ignored him, he said louder, "Just hold on a second."

  Vyx stopped moving away and turned to face the construction foreman again. He waited a few seconds and then said, "I don't have all day."

  Darrigo looked up at him. He had bits and pieces of information, but didn't know in which system the base was located. Here was an opportunity to sell something that wasn't of any use otherwise, and he didn't want to lose the opportunity. "Okay, I'll sketch out the landscape as it appears from the flight bay doors. The bay is in a cliff wall, at the end of a long, narrow canyon. We constructed a camouflaged roof that extends out several hundred meters from the flight bay. I never got a look from elevation, but you could see a purple planet twice a day as the moon revolved." He pulled a flexible drafting tablet from his coat, unfolded it, and drew a sketch of what he had seen of the location.