I had to wrack my brain for a few moments. Morwyn stared all the while. “Flamberge! I said loudly when I remembered. “That where Harkaman said Trask had gone off to.”

  “What’s a flamberge?”

  “A type of sword, I believe… they name all their planets after swords.”

  She nodded, and she turned to go.

  I touched her elbow as she walked away. “Maybe you could stay awhile?”

  “No… I have to talk to my father. I have to ask him if this change of plan is acceptable. He’s not entirely taken with your pirate friends, now that he’s met one.”

  She left, so I closed the door and took a shower. I had to admit, I wasn’t entirely taken by Trask, Harkaman and the rest of their kind, either.

  Even so, I was determined to fly to Flamberge in the morning and try again.

  Chapter Seven

  Dernel and Morwyn decided to stick with us. I wasn’t surprised. After all, they’d never even met another runner who could boast of providing an army to go with his cache of weapons.

  We changed course and flew to Flamberge. The journey took a few days, and everyone aboard was tense after having been chased away from Gladius by fighters and torpedoes.

  Approaching Flamberge at a sedate pace, some might have described our behavior as stealthy. There was some truth to that. I’d shut down our engines before reaching the orbit of the star’s most distant planet.

  “Let’s let the ship’s skin cool down first,” I told Sosa.

  She looked at me in surprise. “We’re sneaking in? Again? I thought these people were your friends.”

  “I thought they would be friendly at the last planet—but that didn’t work out too well, did it?”

  Sosa engaged our various camo options. First, she allowed the ship’s reactor to release some vapor from the cooling jacket. A fine mist hissed out over the hull, freezing into a frosty slick.

  “What are you doing?” Rose asked.

  “Hiding,” I said, “the outer zone of any star system is full of chunks of ice and debris. With the engines shut down and an icy coating over our hull, local traffic control software will assume we’re a harmless rock from deep space.”

  “You’re trying to fool them? They’re pirates too, you know. Don’t you think they’ll recognize this trick and assume we’re hostile?”

  I shrugged. “At the very least, it should give us time to assess the situation here.”

  “You mean we’ll be able to figure out whether Trask is a hunted criminal or a hero, right?”

  “Hopefully, yes.”

  Time slid on. One of the annoying things about gliding into a star system at the speed of a natural comet was the damnably long time such objects required to get to the inner planets. If you were going to imitate an asteroid, it wasn’t a good idea to use excessive speed, so we glided along in silence for many long days.

  “At this rate it will take a month to get to Flamberge,” Dernel complained on the third day. “It took less time to cross a lightyear from the neighboring system.”

  “A lot less,” I admitted. “Sosa, what have your sensors gleaned so far? Are they aware of us?”

  “We’ve been touched by normal long range scanning. Lidar, gravimetrics… I would assume they’ve picked us up and analyzed our signature by now. The question is whether or not they’ll see us as a threat.”

  We didn’t have long to wait. Two days later, an unknown ship appeared and came close. It was obvious she was looking for something—probably us. Rose had spotted it on her watch, and I praised her for her attentiveness.

  The patrolling vessel was a sleek, deadly thing. Unlike the patrol ships we usually met up with in the Conclave, the ship had a longer hull and narrower beam. She looked like a shark seeking prey.

  “Will it find us, Captain?” Rose asked me. “What are we going to do?”

  “We’re all going to shut up and remain calm. No one move, even a small vibration transmitted through the outer hull might—”

  A tremendous clang resounded as the bulkheads began to slam closed. A klaxon rang out, warning everyone that the ship was on an emergency footing.

  Since Jort was the only man not on the bridge, I knew immediately who was to blame.

  “All hands, silence is imperative!” I said into the PA, not having time to contact Jort or find him using the ship’s computer.

  The ship quieted. Sosa had silenced the alarms. We all stood, breathing hard, looking at the curved walls of Royal Fortune’s inner hull as if we could somehow see the doom that lurked outside them.

  Naturally, I considered firing up our engines and accelerating violently in a random direction. The trouble with that idea was we were already very close to the larger ship. Also, the last time we’d done anything similar the engines had rebelled under the strain. Had our repairs been done right this time? Or would we explode in a sheet of fire?

  I decided to play dead. For several minutes, nothing happened. Then, Sosa signaled me with a pin-wheeling arm. She indicated her control panels.

  Lights blinked on my console. The enemy vessel was hailing us. I touched a panel to listen without responding.

  “Gorman? Is that you? Captain William Gorman?”

  I slapped the panel, snorting aloud. The voice was familiar to me. It was Baron Trask.

  The man’s big, unpleasant face filled the air above the holo-plate. The pirate’s floating head was mean-looking. He had the features of a wolf and a beard that was shot with gray.

  “Lord Trask?” I responded a few moments later, scrambling to fix my headset into place. “Please forgive me, we didn’t think—”

  Trask’s evil laugh filled the bridge. “Shivering and pissing yourself, is that it? A cowardly merchant to the last. We received word from Harkaman you were coming here. He said some very bad things about you.”

  “Well sir, we—”

  “That’s high praise to my mind,” Trask continued, ignoring me. “I hate that man, don’t you know? If you irked him, you must be the real Gorman.”

  “I did it while I was thinking of you, Trask.”

  He chuckled. “How do you like my new ship? Come aboard when I dock with your little schooner, and I’ll show you around.”

  “He’s pulling up alongside, sir,” Sosa hissed to me urgently.

  “Lord Trask, if you don’t mind—”

  Trask’s voice shifted instantly. He was suddenly filled with menace instead of humor. “I don’t like refusals, Gorman. My hospitality is my honor. You’re not besmirching my honor now, are you?”

  “Of course not, sir. I’d be glad to come aboard your sleek new ship and discuss our past glories. Mind if I bring—?”

  “Come alone.”

  The channel snapped closed. I shrugged and looked around at the worried eyes of my crewmen and passengers. I laughed.

  “Same old Trask. He’s always moody. We get along very well in person.”

  Jort came onto the bridge at last.

  “Ah,” I said. “If it isn’t the loudest ship’s mate in the cosmos.”

  “Sir, I’m sorry. I only meant to close the bulkheads in case—”

  “Never mind, Jort. We’re not a smear of drifting debris—not yet, anyway.”

  “Captain,” Morwyn asked me, “who were you about to ask permission to accompany you onto Trask’s ship?”

  I smiled at her. “Why, your name was the one I had in mind,” I lied smoothly. I’d been thinking of bringing Jort as my bodyguard. “You’re the one who has the proposition for Trask, after all.”

  Morwyn smiled back, but her expression faltered. “I don’t like this Trask. I don’t think I like any of the Sword World people. They seem mean, even barbaric.”

  I pointed my finger at her and nodded. “That’s a pretty accurate description.”

  After fending off objections from the others, I suited-up, slicked back my wild hair with a few handfuls of water, and marched to the docking tubes.

  There was no more negotiating to be done concerning the time and place of this meeting. We couldn’t outrun Trask’s missiles at this range. It was time to board his ship and hope for the best.

  Chapter Eight

  When I floated aboard Baron Trask’s ship, I was surprised to find that the vessel didn’t employ any kind of artificial gravity. Most large ships had the ability to do so, and it wasn’t a bad idea as it gave workers better leverage.

  My second concern came when no one was there to greet me as I climbed out of the docking tube. I almost turned around and left—but not quite. Instead, I decided to investigate further. Maybe most of Trask’s crew had died or deserted him when he’d left Gladius. That was a disappointment. If he didn’t have an army or a viable fleet…

  “William? Is that you? You really did come alone, didn’t you?”

  I pasted on a smile and turned around. Trask hulked in a doorway that had opened up behind me.

  “That’s right. I’m honest and reliable. I trust my friends—like you.”

  “Huh…”

  Trask drifted into the room, totally at home in a weightless environment. His heavy shoulders didn’t even brush the doorway as he entered.

  Reaching out, he flipped bright lights into life. The docking tube hatch under my feet closed with a snick at the same time. I glanced down at it in concern, but I tried my best to hide the reaction.

  “If this is some kind of elaborate trap, Trask, it’s totally unnecessary. Your ship could have blasted mine out of space a minute ago. Now, I’m here on your deck and quite harmless.”

  “Maybe you are, and maybe you aren’t.”

  I squinted at him, trying to figure out his angle on things. Then, I thought I had it.

  “You think they sent me out here from Gladius to assassinate you? Or something?”

  “Or something, yes.”

  Trask kept drifting closer. He’d been approaching slowly all the while. I had to force myself to relax. Sure, I could have bashed him one, but it would have been hopeless. We were on his ship, and I’d foolishly left Jort behind.

  When he was only about a meter away from me, he lifted up his right hand. He had an instrument in his grip—the device looked like a small rebreather. “Here, take this.”

  “What…? I’ve got my own spacesuit, Trask, I—”

  “Take it!” he boomed.

  Shrugging, I reached out and took it. He snatched his hand back, as if he thought I was going to bite him. I almost laughed. He seemed comically paranoid.

  “What are you so worried about—?” I started, but then he surprised me.

  His right hand had given me a piece of useless equipment, but in the next split second I remembered that Trask was left-handed.

  That second hand flashed forward, thrusting something thin, bright and wicked at me. I tried to dance backward—but I couldn’t. I was floating, you see. My feet were several centimeters from the deck. Just try springing away from someone when you’re in zero gravity—I’ll give you a hint: it’s impossible.

  The bright weapon punctured my suit and stabbed me low in the guts, just to the right side of my belly. I couldn’t believe it. He’d faked me out.

  I hadn’t been able to spring away, but I was able to punch him and knock him away from me. He grunted and drifted away.

  “You backstabbing—no, you gut-stabbing maniac!” I complained. “How do you expect a runner to come out here and do business with you if you attack everyone you meet? You’re a mad dog, Trask. Just like they say back at Gladius.”

  During my tirade, he paid little attention. He was examining some kind of instrument attached to the needle he’d jabbed me with.

  “What is that thing, anyway?” I asked, rubbing at my side. I’d kind of expected a drug or poison to enter my bloodstream—but I felt nothing other than a stinging sensation.

  “A mad dog, hey?” Trask said, looking up at me and laughing. “Is that what that freak Harkaman said to you?”

  “Yes he did… what the hell is going on, Trask? Is that some kind of test?”

  “Yes. Don’t worry. You passed—that’s why you’re still breathing.”

  More doors opened and a half-dozen armed marauders flooded in. They pointed stub-barreled shredders at me, but Trask waved them back. “He’s clean. No Tulk—nothing.”

  “Tulk?” I asked, my jaw sagging. “You’re looking for them out here?”

  “That’s right. They aren’t satisfied with the fringe of the Fringe any longer, Gorman. Why do you think I was driven away from Gladius?”

  “Uh… you don’t mean…?”

  “That’s right,” he said, and for the first time since I’d first met him, he looked haunted and a little lost. “They took my planet. They tried to kill you once you knew who they were. Didn’t you wonder about that? Or have you gotten dumber over the years?”

  “Their attack did seem sudden and strange... You can’t sell mercenary contracts if you attack everyone who comes near to make a deal.”

  “They aren’t in that business anymore. They’re into distributing spiny masses of jelly and stuffing them into people’s guts now. The same as they did back on Baden.”

  Baden. The name of that world brought back a flood of memories. It was there, at that lonely border colony, that I met up with the humanoid aliens the locals called “ducks” and the colonists who were at war with them.

  The ducks—not the best nickname for an alien species that was stronger than a man—had possessed webbed feet and vicious tempers. They’d been infested by the Tulk, who had taken over their normally docile minds and turned them into berserkers.

  “So jabbing me in the guts was a test? You stabbed me in the liver? How can you be sure that I’m not infected?”

  “You’re not. The test shows that. We’ve had time to learn more about the enemy over the last year—while you’ve been off wasting time and pestering disinterested women. The needle takes a small blood sample from your liver. It can tell if any Tulk has recently squatted in the vicinity. It tests for their piss or something—my techs dreamed it up.”

  “I see…” and I did see. He’d been dealing with a true enemy while I sought vacation worlds. But if the Tulk had penetrated all the way to the Sword Worlds and managed to take one of them over…

  “Have you reported this invasion to the Conclave?”

  He snorted in amusement. “The Conclave? I’m a criminal to them, you know. They think the Tulk are imaginary, and that my kind is the real threat.”

  “Hmm… yes, I could see why you’d have credibility issues. After all, you moonlight as a pirate.”

  Trask straightened his spine and glared at me. “I’m a mercenary, that’s all. Sometimes I might take it upon myself to do a bit of raiding, mind you, when honest work is hard to find, but I always—”

  I raised a hand for peace. “Excuse me, Lord Trask. I meant no offense.”

  “Like hell you didn’t. Come on.”

  He led me into a long, dark passageway. The six men with the shredders followed behind us. I got the feeling they didn't trust me, and the feeling was mutual.

  We made our way to an officer’s lounge. The ship was big—it must have had a crew of three hundred or more. Outfitted with troop pods, she’d be called a destroyer anywhere else in the cosmos.

  As she was a pirate ship, her designation wasn’t painted on her side or made readily available when you pinged her hull from a distance.

  “This is a sleek vessel, Trask. What’s her name?”

  Trask looked at me, and he smiled for the first time since we’d met up again. “Kharkov,” he said. “They tell me it’s an old Earth name.”

  “I’m sure it is. How did you… uh… come to possess her?”

  Trask’s frown returned. “Again with the insults?”

  “Not at all. But the last time we worked together, you had three smaller ships that were nowhere near as new and well-appointed.”

  “Well-appointed…” he laughed. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. Some level of explanation is in order. I was given this ship by our emergency governor, on account of my escape from Gladius to warn him.”

  “A governor? I didn’t think the Sword Worlds went in for that kind of serious government. Don’t you find it restrictive?”

  “In a word, yes. But the change was necessary. The Tulk infiltrated Gladius first, you see. I think they might even have been doing it when you last arrived and hired me. Devious bastards… Anyway, the attitude of various captains began shifting. They became more cooperative with each other and less with the rest of us.”

  I leaned forward, putting my elbows on his table and tasting the beer I was served. It wasn’t bad.

  “Just like back on Baden? They went for the leadership first?”

  “Of course. First, they stopped raiding and hiring themselves out. They waited until the rest of us left on normal missions and stole things while we were gone.”

  “Stole things? Like what?”

  Trask shrugged. “Our ships, our thralls—even our family members. I led a rebellion against them, knowing what they were. We must have killed thousands… but it wasn’t enough. I had to withdraw and run to Flamberge.”

  “They believed your story here?”

  Trask laughed. “No, of course not. Not at first. I had to show them vids and all, but that wasn’t enough. We Sword Brothers don’t trust each other much more than we trust outsiders—probably less. But… certain events had already begun to transpire here. The local nobles had begun to suspect something was wrong.”

  I nodded. The Tulk were devious and resolute. They’d come here because they’d been pushed out by Trask and his team before. It made perfect sense.

  “How did the whole governor part arise?”

  “We only cooperate when forced to. This is one of those occasions. An Earl with a fine fleet of his own assumed the office. As governor, he ordered all our ships to be pooled into an armada and distributed. As several captains fell in battle, I was given one of the best vessels as my flagship.”

  “Do you still have your other three?”

  “No. Only this and one other—the ship I escaped with.”

  “That’s a pity…”

  Trask eyed me. “Why did you come here, anyway?”