Contingency Plans

Dash Galow leaned back in his pilot's chair and propped his heavy feet upon his ship's main control panel. His hands, enveloped in titanium gauntlets, interlocked behind his head. His torso, buried beneath multiple layers of scorched ceramic armor, sagged as he let out a deep sigh and closed his eyes.

"A job well done," he whispered to himself. A thin slash of a smile crept across his rugged face.

The door behind Dash slid open with a muted hiss, and a lanky Dezorian wearing a lab coat and a stout white kem'pallah entered the cockpit. The Dezorian towered over his Palman pilot and scowled. Crossing his bone-thin arms he asked, "Is this what Rez'tekkan D'zkot pays you for? Palmans are such lay-abouts!"

Dash frowned but didn't open his eyes. "Shut up, Klek," he said. "I did my job. Now I am going to relax."

Klek, quietly fuming, sat in the copilot's seat beside Dash. "You were sloppy," he said, his lipless mouth barely moving. "Heads will roll if Dr. Resa dies."

"D'zkot told me he wanted it to look like a break-in."

"Yes, but you didn't have to shoot her!" Klek cried, facing his aloof companion. "The Rez'tekkan wanted the item off of Dezo, and he wanted it to look like Palman renegades were responsible for its theft. But he did not want even one innocent Dezorian to be harmed, especially when that Dezorian is as indispensable as Dr. Resa!"

Dash was silent for a moment, but then he smiled again and said, "You speak Palman well. I can hardly hear your accent at all."

Klek was silent but his rage was palpable. Dash opened his eyes and looked at Klek. The wrinkles in the Dezorian's forehead were deep and his eyes were narrow.

"Look," Dash said. "My sonic gun had blanks in it and the acidshot was set on its lowest setting. I don't even know why this Dr. Resa woman collapsed when I shot her. She couldn't have suffered any more injury than a slight chemical burn and some bruising. It must have been fear or shock that got her."

Klek's eyes opened some and he said, in a softer voice, "Perhaps. But the fact that you had a 'hostage' -- me -- was enough to keep the guards at bay. There was no reason for you to actually fire at someone."

"By the way," Dash interjected, "your acting is terrible."

Had Klek's eyes had pupils, his eyes would have rolled. "And what of Dr. Resa? When they examine her wounds and find that she was scarcely hurt at all, do you think they will not become suspicious? At least I left no proof that this entire incident was a sham."

Dash shook his head and closed his eyes again. He ran a tan hand over his blonde buzz-cut and said, "Relax, Klek. There's no way the Dezorian or Palman authorities are going to trace this little incident back to D'zkot. He's one of the most powerful men in Algo, and one of the highest-ranking officials in the Dezorian native government--"

"The third highest!"

"--and he gets on well with the Palman Commander of Dezo. He's beyond suspicion. And he's too well-insulated even if the authorities did suspect him."

Klek tensed, but then nodded and sat back in his chair more comfortably. "Perhaps you are right. When the Rez'tekkan came to me and asked me to help smuggle this item off of Dezo, I thought he was mad. But the more I dealt with him, the more obvious it became that he is a brilliant man. I am sure he has planned for every contingency -- including the incompetence of his...hired help."

Dash beamed and nodded emphatically. "That's the attitude! But, why did D'zkot ask you to do this for him, anyway? You aren't even the head of the Guaron Morgue facility."

Klek nodded. "Dr. Oja is the director of the Guaron s'dkin. I, however, am the head of its Department of Antiquities and Ancient Treasures. And, in the past, I was an activist in the Rez'tekkan's political party. I supported Rez'tekkan D'zkot's election campaign. I actually opposed him at first, but there's just something about him.... He's a very....convincing man. So I, as you can see, was the natural choice for this assignment."

Dash smirked. "Oh, of course."

"What I cannot understand," the Dezorian went on, "is why the Rez'tekkan would deign so as to hire you." He chuckled and looked away.

Dash sat up straight and stared at Klek with wide eyes and a slacked jaw. "Klek!" he said. "You wound me!"

The Dezorian just shook his head and looked out the side view port.

"I'll have you know that I'm the best damn smuggler this side of Wellzgoom!" Dash said defiantly. "Well, except for the legendary Tyler Jorran. Now there's a pirate! Why, I heard he once rescued fifteen Motavians from Gaila without the security system even knowing he was there! Supposedly, the Motavians had helped Tyler refurbish his ship once when he snuck back to Mota. Well, of course, that kind of work is prohibited under the Vehicle Restriction Act of AW 1234, so...."

Klek yawned.

"Well, anyway," Dash said, "Tyler's the best. But I'm the second best, definitely. D'zkot was smart to hire me. He'd probably never be able to find Tyler if he wanted to anyway."

No one spoke for a few minutes. Dash tapped his fingers on his leg and Klek, his arms still crossed, stared out at the stars. But finally the uncomfortable silence began to grate on Dash's nerves, so he asked, "Where are we taking this stuff, anyway? Stoi'ra? Weyous? Copto Prime?"

Klek turned his gaze to the view screen before him. The quickly passing stars were reflected in his mirror-like red eyes. "We are taking our cargo to Midela II."

Dash's brow was tightly knit. "What? Why there? Isn't the Midela system uninhabited?"

Klek smiled. "Obviously not! If you had enough brain cells to foster a synapse you would have been able to figure that out."

Dash smirked. "I'm starting to like you, Klek."

Klek just shook his head. "The Rez'tekkan does not take the matter of removing historical treasures from Dezo lightly. But there is a party on Midela II who must be allowed access to our cargo."

"Why doesn't this party just come to Algo? It would be easy enough to slip in and out of the system. Hell, I do it all the time. Mother Brain is never the wiser."

"I realize that. But surely you are aware of the near-superstition that surrounds Mother Brain in the minds of aliens. No alien race has ever made contact with Algo because they all fear Mother Brain's awesome power. I assume that this party is no different."

Dash raised a blonde eyebrow. "Yes, I realize that. But how do you know that? Since when have Dezorians been hob-nobbing with alien civilizations?"

Klek softly laughed. "D'zkot has changed many things on Dezo. There is a new order now. Mother Brain will not lead us by the nose as she does the Palmans and Motavians."

"Dezorians have noses?"

Klek did not laugh.

Dash cleared his throat. "This D'zkot is really something, isn't he?"

The Dezorian nodded. "Indeed."

A pause. "I really do respect your people, you know."

Klek and Dash locked eyes. The Dezorian nodded again. "I know."

After Vendai and Copt, Midela was the star system nearest to Algo. The Weyousians had an ancient legend in which the Midela star was the heart of a great dragon that, in ages beyond history, had devoured the entire universe and then imploded back upon itself. Some sub-cultures of the Leetan civilization believed that the entire system had been cursed by an ancient space pirate named Cablon, and that any ship that entered Midelese space would be lost. Other than those two tales, however, Midela was generally ignored. It had no indigenous life, and none of its satellites were readily habitable. The third of the rocky worlds was rich in iron and coal, but otherwise the planets were worthless. Midela was not even valuable as a strategic location, as it was located between two allied systems, Weyous and Leeta, and two neutral systems that had virtually no contact with greater galactic society -- Algo and Copt.

Therefore, being in plain sight but utterly unremarkable, it was the perfect location for staging underhanded deals. Dash had never been there himself; he much preferred to meet his buyers in the exotic ports on Stoi'ra or the dark back alleys of the Ammeram Empire. He did know of Midela, though, having heard about it many times for colleagues of his, including the great Tyler. And, so, he knew what to expect on Midela II: crumbly, rocky terrain, mostly flat but with a few needle-like mountains and the occasional sheer-sided crevasse. There was little oxygen on the planet; its atmosphere was mostly carbon dioxide, so space suits would be necessary if an actual landing had to be performed.

"Do you know how these gentlemen will want to meet with us?" Dash asked Klek. "I mean, will they want to rendezvous planetside, or will they want us to dock with them and meet on their ship?"

"I was told that we would be joining them aboard a ship that they have stationed in orbit around the planet," Klek told him. "I do not know if any of their operatives are actually on the planet."

Dash nodded. "Then you have no idea who these people are, really."

Klek hesitated. "No."

Dash let a moment pass then asked, "Are you concerned? If so, you'd better tell me. D'zkot was really vague when I spoke to him over the visiphone, and that can always mean trouble. So if you have some information, I want it."

Klek shifted his weight. "I know no details about the people we are going to meet. D'zkot told me that they were associates of his, but I felt that even he was wary of them. I think he may not know them that well, if at all...."

"But?"

"But, I am worried. What sort of person would want relics from the Guaron Morgue...and for what purpose?"

Dash scratched his head. "I was wondering that myself. It wasn't lost on me that the parcel my robots brought on board looked suspiciously like a coffin."

Klek was motionless.

"What sort of morgue is Guaron, anyway?" Dash asked. "Why does a morgue need a So-And-So of Historic This-And-Thats?"

"Guaron is not simply an ordinary morgue," Klek quietly explained. "Although, it is used to house the recently deceased from nearby villages that do not have proper hospitals. You see, Mr. Galow--"

"Dash," Dash said, correcting Klek with a smile.

"All right -- Dash. You see, Dash, the Guaron Morgue is nearly twenty centuries old. It was built as a mausoleum for the bodies of the heroes from the Holy War. Over time, however, the local villages took to storing their dead there before burial, thinking that doing so would give the dead great honor in the afterlife. Over the centuries, Guaron came to house many priceless treasures of the ages. Only one relic, the Sword of N'gan, was ever lost. Legend has it that it vanished at the moment of N'gan's burial, in the plain sight of many witnesses. You know, some claim that N'gan's sword was the same sword used by Palm's great hero, Alis Landale. If I recall the legends correctly, her sword also vanished upon her death."

Dash shivered. "Creepy," he said. "Well, I see now why taking relics from the morgue would not be a laughing matter."

"Certainly not. Normally it would be tantamount to sacrilege, but if the Rez'tekkan asks that it be done, I am sure it must be for the good of Dezo."

With a frown Dash asked, "So what, exactly, are my robots guarding in the cargo bay?"

Klek removed his squat kem'pallah and scratched his green, bald scalp. "Within that casket is the body of Bishop Gumbious. It was in his honor that Corona Temple was renamed after it was destroyed in the Great Disaster of the AW 800s. After his death, the Bishop was preserved and placed in an air-tight crypt."

"What's so special about him that these friends of D'zkot would want to get their hands on his four hundred year-old mummified body?"

"Bishop Gumbious had a jewel set in the center of his forehead. It was a golden red, like amber. As you may know, the Amber Eye is a sacred artifact of my people which once was housed in the forehead of a dragon. When Gumbious was born with an amber eye of his own, it was a powerful omen. And, indeed, he did go on to perform great deeds. At any rate, the eye possessed tremendous spiritual power."

"You really believe this story?" Dash asked.

"Of course I do! I have never seen the body myself, but you would be hard pressed to find any Dezorian who does not believe the stories about Bishop Gumbious. Besides, would these associates of D'zkot want the body if the story was not true?"

Dash shrugged. "It sounds very important."

"It is! Were it not for my implicit trust in Rez'tekkan D'zkot, I would never have allowed the body to be removed from its crypt. There is no telling what limit the eye's power might have, for good or evil."

Dash's eyebrows came together and he asked, in a low voice, "Klek, aren't you even a little bit worried about what this mysterious party intends to do with this amber eye thing? Assuming it exists, that is."

Klek shook his head no emphatically. "Rez'tekkan D'zkot is a wise man who works only for the betterment of Dezo. I told you, my trust in him is unwavering!"

Dash shrugged. "Who am I to argue? I'm just the hired help."

The journey from Algo to Midela took thirty-eight hours. Dash and Klek spoke little. They did not eat together, although Dash knew from Klek's unpleasant muttering that he hated the food rations Dash had stolen from Palm. Dash sensed that his expressions of doubt concerning D'zkot had offended Klek, but he said nothing about it. And Klek, in turn, did not bring it up, although his displeasure was evident in his narrow eyes and downturned mouth.

Somehow, they managed to reach the Midela system without any exchange of hostilities. Dash called Klek to the cockpit over the ship's intercom as his craft, which was called the Starlighter, approached the barren face of Midela II.

Klek sat down in the copilot's seat without a word.

"It'll be about ten more minutes before we reach orbital range," Dash said. When Klek was still quiet he added, "There's no sign of a ship."

Klek tipped his head to one side. "There isn't?" he asked, simply.

"Negative. I don't feel good about this. Have we just been stood up, or is there some kind of cloak and dagger crap going on here?"

"Rez'tekkan D'zkot told me that the ship would be in orbit around Midela II. He said it was stationed here! We shouldn't have to wait for it to show up...."

"Hold on," Dash whispered, more to himself than to Klek. "I'm picking up something on the ship's frontal sensors. There's a dark body about ten thousand kilometers dead ahead."

Klek leaned forward and, with his flat, green face nearly touching the view port, he squinted. After a few seconds he shook his head and said, "I see nothing."

"Nor do I," Dash remarked, "but sensors don't lie...usually. There is definitely something dead ahead."

"But shouldn't we be able to see it by now?"

"Moving to evade." There was a nearly imperceptible lurch as the ship's course was altered slightly.

Klek scratched his chin. "Perhaps the whatever-it-is is solid black in color. That would explain why we can't see it; it's blending in with its background. It might be an asteroid, or--"

"Or a ship."

"What? Oh! By the cult of D'zris!"

As Dash and Klek watched, the space just a few hundred meters ahead and off to the right of the Starlighter shimmered. Then there was a ripple. The stars bent and flickered like reflections in a pool. The disturbance then took on color and light, changing from blackness into a deep cobalt lined with what looked like yellow eyes. It took only seconds for the two Algoians to realize that a ship, midnight blue in shade and like a serpent in appearance, had just materialized in front of them.

"What in the name of Algo is that?" Klek cried.

"I have no idea," Dash whispered. "I've never seen a ship like that. I've never seen a ship do anything like that!"

"It's so massive," Klek added. "The largest passenger liner would be dwarfed by that craft. It's got to be dozens of kilometers long."

"More like a few hundred. And it was completely invisible! Oh, wait--! The ship is contacting us."

Over the Starlighter's speakers a monotone voice boomed, YOU ARE THE COURIER DASH GALOW.

"Uhhh...affirmative," Dash replied. "Dr. Klek and the cargo are also aboard."

WE SHALL TAKE CONTROL OF YOUR VESSEL WITH OUR HANDLING ARRAY AT THIS TIME, said the voice. YOU SHALL THEN BE MET BY AN ENVOY.

"Uhhh...thanks." Dash answered. He killed the comm and looked at his companion. "Here we go," he said.

Klek took a deep breath and nodded. "Yes," he said. "Here we go."

As he spoke, two beams of dull, nearly imperceptible light focused themselves upon the Starlighter. The ship swayed and then began to approach the mysterious craft. Only when the two vessels were nearly touching did part of the other ship's hull slide away, revealing a compact landing bay. The Starlighter was gently guided into the bay and set upon the floor. The hull of the giant ship was sealed again, and the bay was pressurized.

Dash instructed his robots to bring their cargo out into the bay. He and Klek joined the robots outside.

"I don't see any envoy," Dash said, looking about. "I don't see anything, period!" The bay was a perfect cube, with each side measuring at a few hundred meters. It was just large enough for the Starlighter and two small shuttles which were docked on opposite ends of the bay, with the Starlighter between them. Other than the three ships and the two Algoians, however, the bay was entirely empty and entirely unoccupied. The floor of the bay was covered in gray tiles that looked almost like brick, and the walls were covered in with what appeared to be purple stone. The lighting was subdued and seemed gray.

A door on the end of the bay opposite Dash and Klek slid open and three cloaked persons stepped through. They appeared to be Palman. In the lead was an older man with thinning gray-white hair. His face was thin and drawn. He had drooping jowls and hollow cheeks. His eyes were deep-set, round, and pale blue. On his right was a young man with short brown hair and a handsome if craggy face. The young man looked healthier than his elder, but he, too, appeared tired. Dark blue lines sagged under his eyes. On the old man's left was a young woman with soft features and long blonde braids. Her green eyes were brighter than those of her companions, but her drooping frown gave her the same worn look.

Each of the three strangers wore elaborate, almost outlandish armor. Their dull silver shoulder plates were massive and adorned with all manner of designs and ornamentation. They also wore baroque cloaks that covered their bodies and trailed behind them. The men wore dark blue, almost black cloaks, and the woman's cloak was blood red. The old man wore a circlet, and silver horns jutted out from the circlet just above his ears.

The three people were at the same time both intimidating and bizarre. Neither Dash nor Klek were sure if they should be afraid or amused.

When the three strangers were within arm's reach of the Algoians, the old man spoke. He spoke in Palman, and he spoke it well, but his accent was thick and unfamiliar to both Dash and Klek.

"Greetings, Mr. Galow and Dr. Klek. Welcome to the Noah. I am pleased that you have arrived so quickly."

Dash stared at the old man for a moment, then nodded and smiled. "Sure. It was no problem."

"I trust you have the cargo we were promised."

Dash paused, as he had been expecting the strangers to offer more of an introduction. But, seeing that they were not about to divulge their identities, he shrugged and said, "Yes. It's here. Would you like my robots to put it away somewhere for you...?"

"That will not be necessary," the woman said. Her voice was deep and throaty. It was a beautiful voice, but she spoke in complete monotone.

"Your work here is finished," the old man added. "We will take care of the...cargo."

Klek, who had been silent, took a step towards the trio. The three strangers turned their attention to him, but remained expressionless.

"May I ask what you plan to do with the body of Bishop Gumbious?" Klek asked. "Although I trust Rez'tekkan D'zkot completely, I am concerned about what might become of such a priceless Dezorian treasure."

Dash raised an eyebrow.

"What will be done with the item is none of your concern," the younger man said. "We deal with D'zkot, not his underlings." The man's voice was high, and almost musical. But he, too, spoke flatly.

Dash put a hand on Klek's shoulder, and the Dezorian's mouth closed. "If that concludes our business, we'll just take our payment and go," the pirate said.

The old man's head tilted slightly to one side. "Your payment?"

Dash chuckled and shot Klek and uneasy look. "Yeah. Pirates don't work for free. I was told to expect payment. I'll take any kind of credit accepted in this sector, although meseta is preferred."

The old man's face cracked into a faint smile. "I do not pay for gifts. Take up this matter with Rez'tekkan D'zkot."

"Now wait just a God-damn minute--!" Dash began, his right hand already reaching for the lasershot that was always on his belt. But before he could bring it from its holster, both the young man and young woman had already produced similar weapons from beneath their robes.

"This is your final warning," the old man said. "Leave now."

"Dash, perhaps we should go," Klek said. "The Rez'tekkan will be happy to compensate you."

Dash's face twisted into a scowl. "Don't you get it yet, Klek? D'zkot told me I'd be paid upon delivery. We've been double-crossed!"

"Do not say that I did not warn you," the old man muttered. And with that, his companions opened fire.