Demon princes 01 05 the.., p.15
Demon Princes 01-05 The Star Ki, page 15
“Set up this problem,” said Gersen. “Two ships leave the planet New Hope. One proceeds directly here, to Avente. The other goes to a red dwarf star, spends half a day, then comes to Avente, arriving ten days later. I want a list of the red dwarf stars which this second ship might have visited.”
The operator considered. “There is obviously an ellipsoid shell here, the foci being New Hope and Alphanor. We must take into account the accelerations and decelerations, the probable coast periods and landing times. There will necessarily be a locus of most probability, and areas of diminishing probability.”
“Set up the problem so that the machine lists these stars in order of probability.”
“To what limits?”
“Oh—one chance in fifty. Include also the constants of these stars as given in the directory.”
“Very well, sir. The fee will be 25 SVU.”
Gersen brought forth money; the operator translated the problem into precise language, spoke into a microphone. Thirty seconds later a sheet of paper dropped from a slot. The operator glanced at it, signed his name, handed it without a word to Gersen.
Forty-three stars were listed. Gersen compared the list with the page he had torn from Dasce’s Directory. A single star occurred on both lists. Gersen frowned in puzzlement. The star was a member of a binary, without planets. The couple was .... Naturally! thought Gersen, illumination flooding his mind. How else could volcanos exist on the companion of a red dwarf? Dasce’s world was not a planet, but a dark star: a dead surface, perhaps still faintly warm. Gersen had heard of such worlds. Usually they were too dense, too massive for human occupancy, but if a small star in the course of two or three billion years happened to sweep up enough detritus to build a thick shell of light material, the surface gravity might well be reduced to a tolerable level.
At ten minutes to seven, Kelle, Warweave and Detteras appeared at the spaceport, wearing spacemen’s harness, their skins washed the blue-brown tone which originally, in popular credence, was thought to protect the human organism from certain mysterious Jarnell effluviae, and which by usage had become a normal adjunct to the space traveler’s accoutrements. They halted in the middle of the lobby, looked about, spied Gersen, turned to face him as he approached.
Gersen surveyed them with a dour smile. “We seem to be ready, all of us. I thank you gentlemen for your promptness.”
“Achieved, necessarily, at great inconvenience to all of us,” stated Kelle.
“In due course the reason for haste will become clear,” said Gersen. “Your luggage?”
“On its way to the ship,” said Detteras.
“Then we will leave. We have clearance?”
“Everything has been arranged,” said Warweave.
The group proceeded from the lobby and walked around to the docking area, toward which a crane was already trundling.
The luggage, four large cases and as many smaller packets, was stacked beside the ship. Warweave unlocked the entry ports; Gersen and Kelle passed the cases into the cabin. Detteras made a bluff attempt to assert command. “We have four compartments aboard. I’ll take forward starboard; Kelle, you’ll have starboard aft; Warweave, port forward; Gersen, port aft. We might as well move our luggage out of the cabin.”
“One moment,” said Gersen. “There is a situation that we must resolve before we proceed any further.”
Detteras’ big face creased in a scowl. “What sort of situation?”
“We are two parties of interest here—at least two parties. Neither trusts the other. We are going Beyond, past the edge of law. All of us, recognizing this fact, have brought weapons. I propose that we lock all weapons in the security cabinet; that we open the luggage and, if necessary, strip ourselves naked, to assure each other that all the weapons have been declared. Since you are three to my one, if any advantage lies to either side, it is to yours.”
“A highly undignified process,” grumbled Detteras.
Kelle, more equable now than Gersen could have believed, said, “Come now, Rundle. Gersen is merely verbalizing reality. In short, I agree with him. The more so since I carry no weapons.”
Warweave made a careless gesture. “Search me, search my luggage; but let’s get under way.”
Detteras shook his head, opened his case, withdrew a projac of great power, tossed it upon the table. “I have my doubts about the wisdom of this. I have nothing against Mr. Gersen personally—but suppose he takes us to a far planet where he has accomplices waiting, who capture us and hold us for ransom? Stranger crimes have occurred.”
Gersen laughed. “If you consider this a real danger you need only remain here. I don’t care whether one goes or all go.”
“What of your own weapons?” asked Warweave dryly.
Gersen brought forth his projac, a pair of stilettos, a dagger, four grenades the size of walnuts.
“My word,” said Detteras. “You maintain quite an armament.”
“I occasionally have need for it,” said Gersen. “Now, the luggage ....” The accumulated arms were placed in a cabinet which was secured with four locks, each man retaining a key to one of the locks.
The crane trundled up to the ship; the boom swung around. Hooks engaged in trammels; the ship jerked, hung free, was carried out on the field.
Detteras went to the main console and touched a button, which flashed a row of green lights. “Everything ready to go,” he said. “Tanks full, machinery in order.”
Kelle cleared his throat and brought forth a handsomely mounted wooden case bound in red leather. “This is one of the departmental rationalizers. You have Mr. Teehalt’s filament, I assume?”
“Yes,” said Gersen. “I have the filament with me. But there is no hurry. Before we engage the monitor we must reach zero base point, which is far distant.”
“Very well,” said Detteras. “What are the coordinates?”
Gersen brought forward a slip of paper. “If you will allow me,” he said politely, “I will make the settings on the autopilot.”
With ill grace Detteras rose to his feet. “It seems to me that there is no longer reason for distrust. We have stripped ourselves of our weapons; all the issues have been settled. So let us all relax and behave amicably.”
“With pleasure,” said Gersen.
The ship was lowered to the launching pad, the crane disengaged and rolled away. The group settled themselves into takeoff seats; Detteras started the automatic launching-sequence. There was a jar, a sense of acceleration, and Alphanor retreated below.
10
From the chapter “Malagate the Woe,” in the book The Demon Princes, by Caril Carphen, published by Elucidarian Press, New Wexford, Aloysius, Vega:
... In our cursory summary we have seen how each Demon Prince is unique and highly individuated, each displaying his characteristic style.
This is all the more remarkable in that the basic variety of possible crimes is limited and can be numbered on the fingers. There is crime for gain: extortion, robbery (which includes piracy and raids on settled communities), swindling in its infinite guises. There is slavery, with its various manifestations: procuring, selling, and using slaves. Murder, coercion, and torture are merely adjuncts to these activities. The personal depravities are equally limited, and can be classified under sexual debauchery, sadism, violent acts prompted by pique, vindictiveness, revenge, or vandalism.
Doubtless the catalogue is incomplete, perhaps even illogical, but this is beside the point. I merely wish to display the basic paucity, in order to illustrate this point: that each of the Demon Princes, in inflicting one or another atrocity, impresses the act with his own style and seems to create a new crime.
In the previous chapters we have examined the maniacal Kokor Hekkus and his theories of absolute frightfulness; the devious Viole Falushe, voluptuary, sybarite, and amateur of kinesthetics.
Completely distinctive is Attel Malagate, the Woe, in style and mannerism. Rather than enlarging himself, projecting a macroscopic delineation of his person and deeds, to mesmerize his victims and intimidate his enemies, Malagate prefers the possibly equally chilling device of silence, invisibility, dispassionate impersonality. There is no reliable description of Malagate. Certainly Malagate is a cognomen, derived from a folk epic of old Quantique. He acts with implacable viciousness, although his cruelties are never wanton, and, if he maintains a pleasure palace after the style of Viole Falushe or Howard Alan Treesong, it is a well-guarded secret.
Malagate’s activities are primarily extortion and slavery. In the Conclave of 1500 at Smade’s Planet, where five Demon Princes and a score of lesser operators met to define and circumscribe their activities, Malagate was allotted that sector of the Beyond centered on Ferrier’s Cluster. It includes over a hundred settlements, towns and vicinities, upon all of which Malagate levies assessments. He rarely encounters protest or complaint, for he need merely cite the example of Mount Pleasant, a town of 5,000 persons which declined to meet his demands. In the year 1499 Malagate invited four other princes to join him. The junta swept down upon the town, captured and enslaved the entire population.
On the planet Grabhorne he maintains a plantation of about ten thousand square miles, with a slave population estimated at twenty thousand. Here are carefully tilled farms, and factories which build exquisite furniture, musical instruments and electronic mechanisms. The slaves are not overtly ill treated, but working hours are long, the dormitories are drab, social opportunities are restricted. Punishment is a term in the mines, which few survive.
Attel Malagate’s attention is usually wide and dispassionate, but he sometimes focuses upon some individual. The planet Caro lies in an area which none of the Demon Princes claim. Mayor Janous Paragiglia of the city Desde espoused and advocated a militia and space navy sufficient to protect Caro, and to seek out and destroy Malagate or any other of the Demon Princes who dared to attack Caro. Malagate kidnapped Janous Paragiglia and tortured him for thirty-nine days, telecasting the entire process to the cities of Caro, to all the planets in his own sector, and, in one of his rare acts of bravado, to the Rigel Concourse.
As mentioned, his personal appetites are unknown. A rumor frequently encountered runs to the effect that Malagate enjoys engaging in personal gladiatorial duels with able-bodied enemies, with swords for weapons. Malagate is said to exhibit superhuman strength and dexterity, and seems to derive satisfaction from slowly hewing his opponent to bits.
Like certain other Demon Princes, Malagate maintains a discrete and respectable identity within the Oikumene and, if whispers are correct, occupies a prestigious position on one of the major worlds ....
Alphanor became a misty pale disk, mingled with the stars. Within the ship the four men settled into an uneasy accommodation. Kelle and Warweave startled a quiet conversation. Detteras stared forward into star-spattered emptiness. Gersen lounged to the side, watching the three men.
One of them—not completely a man, or better, a simulated man—was Malagate the Woe. Which?
Gersen thought he knew.
There was still no certainty in his mind; his conjecture was based on indications, probabilities, suppositions. Malagate, for his part, must still feel secure in his incognito. He had no reason to suspect Gersen’s objective; he must still consider Gersen no more than an acquisitive locater out to drive as hard a bargain as he could. So much the better, thought Gersen, if it would help him to a sure identification. He wanted two things only: the freedom of Pallis Atwrode, and the death of Malagate. And, of course, of Hildemar Dasce. If Pallis Atwrode were dead—so much the worse for Dasce.
Surreptitiously Gersen watched his suspect. Was this man Malagate? Frustrating to be so close to his goal. Malagate, of course, had his own plans. Behind the human skull worked thought patterns incommensurable to his own, moving toward a goal still obscure.
Gersen could define at least three areas of uncertainty in the situation. First, did Malagate still carry weapons or have access to weapons previously concealed aboard the ship? A possibility, although he might be relying entirely on the hidden tanks of anesthetic gas.
Second, were either or both of the other men his accomplices? Again a possibility, but distinctly less strong.
Third, and a less simple set of circumstances: What would happen when the ship reached Dasce’s dead star? Here again variables piled on variables. Did Malagate know of Dasce’s hideaway? If so, would he recognize it on sight? The answers here were both: Probably yes.
The question then would be, how to surprise and either capture or kill Hildemar Dasce without hindrance from Malagate.
Gersen reached a decision. Detteras had urged the need for amicability. One thing was sure: amicability would be sternly tested before long.
Time passed; a wary routine was established. Gersen chose a propitious time and gave the body of Suthiro to space. The ship slid effortlessly past shining stars, at astounding speed, by means only vaguely comprehensible to the men who controlled it.
The pale of human civilization and law came to an end; at some precise instant the ship passed Beyond and struck up and out toward the dwindling fringes of the galaxy. Gersen kept steady if discreet surveillance over his three shipmates, wondering who would first show concern, anxiety, or suspicion as to the immediate destination.
This person was Kelle, though any of the three might have been muttering together out of Gersen’s hearing. “Where the devil are we headed?” Kelle inquired peevishly. “This is no area to attract a locater; we’re practically in intergalactic space.”
Gersen took up a relaxed position. “I have not been altogether candid with you three gentlemen.”
Three faces turned swiftly, three pairs of eyes bored in at him.
“What do you mean?” grated Detteras.
“It is not a serious matter. I have been compelled to make a detour. After I perform a certain errand, we will proceed with our original plans.” He raised his hand as Detteras took a deep breath. “It serves no purpose to admonish me; the situation is unavoidable.”
Warweave spoke in an icy voice: “What is this ‘situation’?”
“I’ll be glad to explain, and I’m sure all of you will appreciate my predicament. First of all, I seem to have made an enemy of a well-known criminal. He is known as Malagate the Woe.” Gersen glanced from face to face. “Doubtless you all have heard of him; he is one of the Demon Princes. The day before we left one of his lieutenants, a creature named Hildemar Dasce, kidnapped a young woman I happen to be interested in and conveyed her to a private world. I feel obligated to this young woman; she is suffering through no fault other own, but merely from Malagate’s desire to punish or intimidate me. I believe I have located Dasce’s planet; I plan to rescue this young woman, and I hope for your cooperation.”
Detteras spoke in a voice thick with rage. “Why could you not have told us of your plans before we left? You insisted on leaving, you forced us to break our engagements at great inconvenience—”
Gersen said mildly, “You have some cause for resentment, but, since my own time is limited, I thought it best to combine the two projects.” He grinned as Detteras’ neck swelled in new fury. “With luck, this business will not take long, and we will be on our way without delay.”
Kelle said meditatively, “The kidnapper has conveyed the young woman to a world in this vicinity?”
“I think so. I hope so.”
“And you expect our help in rescuing this young woman?”
“Only in a passive sense. I merely ask that you don’t interfere with my plans.”
“Suppose that the kidnapper resents your intrusion. Suppose that he kills you.”
“The possibility exists. But I have the advantage of surprise. He must feel completely secure, and probably I will have no great trouble overpowering him.”
“Overpowering him?” inquired Warweave, delicately sardonic. “Overpowering or killing him.”
At this moment the Jarnell kicked out, the ship whined down into ordinary velocities. Ahead glowed a dim red star. If it were double, its companion was yet invisible.
Gersen said, “As I say, surprise is my most important asset, so therefore I must ask that none of you through inadvertence or malice use the radio.” Gersen already had disabled the radio, but he saw no reason to put Malagate on his guard. “I’ll explain my plans so that there can be no misunderstanding. First, I’ll bring the ship close enough to inspect the surface of the planet, but far enough out to avoid radar detection. If my theories are correct and I locate Dasce’s habitation, I’ll go to the far side of the world, approach the surface, and land as close to Dasce’s dwelling as feasible. Then I’ll take the platform flyer and do what must be done. The three of you need only wait till I return; then we shall be once more on our way to Teehalt’s planet. I know I can count on your cooperation, because I naturally shall take the monitor filament with me and hide it somewhere before I confront Hildemar Dasce. If I am killed, the filament will be lost. Naturally I will need the weapons which are now in the security locker, but I see no reason for objection on your part.”
No one spoke. Gersen, looking from one to another, studying most intently the face of his suspect, laughed inwardly. Malagate was posed with a maddening dilemma. If he should interfere and by some means warn Dasce, then Gersen might well be killed and Malagate’s hopes of acquiring Teehalt’s planet dashed. Would he trade Dasce for the planet? Gersen was certain of his decision; Malagate was notoriously callous.
Detteras heaved a deep sigh. “Gersen, you’re a subtle man. You’ve put us in a position where, for motives of sweet reason, we are forced to do your bidding,”
“I assure you that my motives are irreproachable.”
“Yes, yes, the damsel in distress. All very well; we ourselves would be criminals to deny her the chance of rescue. My exasperation is not at your goals—if you have told us the truth—but at your lack of candor.”
