Planet Of No Return

“We had hoped for your voluntary cooperation, Captain M’Luta. But voluntary or not you will help us.”

”“Officer of the watch,” the Captain said into the microphone on his collar. “To the bridge at once with three ratings. Armed.”

“Cancel that order at once,” Carver said, angry himself now. “Get on the FTL communicator and call your base. Ask for Code Dp-L.”

The Captain spun about sharply and loomed over the thin figure of the wounded man. “Where did you get that code?” he snapped the order. “Who are you?”

“No more questions if you please. Make that call and tell them that my name is Carver. Tell them that I am with you now.”

The Captain did not answer, but they heard him cancelling his last command for armed assistance as he stamped across the bridge and into the communication compartment.

“What magic is that?” Brion asked as Carver dropped wearily onto the bench at his side.

“That’s clout, not magic. The Captain’s home world, Roodepoort, is one of those that owes a lot to the Cultural Relationships Foundation. The people on the planet may not know it — but the government does. They pay us a very large and completely voluntary contribution each year.”

Brion nodded. “That means that Roodepoort is one of those worlds that Culrel aided in the past. We helped them out of trouble?”

“Perfectly correct. We can ask them for assistance, any amount — at any time. But it is the kind of debt that we collect only in an emergency. The director of their space agency has been informed of my presence here, and he has been told that his agency may expect a message about me. The director is a very busy executive and I don’t think that she will enjoy being disturbed in this manner. Like it or not the Captain will cooperate.”

They did not have very long to wait. The Captain stamped back onto the bridge, glowering like a thunderstorm, and stopped before Carver — who did not seem to be bothered at all by his threatening presence.

“Who are you, Carver? What makes you able to issue orders like this?”

“Since you have your orders — isn’t that knowledge enough?”

“No. It is the law of space that I am the only one who can issue any commands on this ship. Now that law has been broken. My authority has been super-ceded. What if I chose not to obey these new instructions?”

“You could do that. But when you return to port you might find yourself in a small amount of trouble.”

“Trouble?” The Captain smiled grimly. “I’ll be on the beach. Finished.”

“Then you put a high price on your curiosity. I wish to cause you no harm, Captain, please believe me. But it is desperately important that we make this diversion. I will tell you as much as I can. This is a Culrel operation. When you return home you can ask your superiors, the people who have issued you with your orders, what the name means. They are the ones who will decide how much you should know. All I can add is that this diversion is not a casual one. Lives have been lost already, and there will undoubtedly be more of them at stake in the future. Does that satisfy your curiosity?”

The Captain thudded his fist into the palm of his open hand with a sharp crack. “No,” he said, “it does not. But it will have to do for the time being. We’ll make the stop. But I don’t want to see any of you aboard my ship. Ever again. I won’t have this done to me a second time.”

“We’ll respect that wish. Captain. I’m sorry it had to be done this way at this time.”

“Get out of here. You’ll be informed of the time of the transfer.”

“You haven’t exactly made a friend there,” Lea said as the door slammed solidly behind them. Carver shrugged, too weary to talk or care. “I’m going to my cabin,” he said. “I’ll join you again when we transfer.”

All of the pleasure had gone out of the voyage for Lea and Brion. They re-examined the record and listened to Hartig’s voice over and over again, so often that they had it memorized. Brion worked out in the ship’s gymnasium, unaware of the fact that his weight lifting and general stamina gave the instructor a definite feeling of inferiority. Lea tried to rest and conserve her energy. She did not know what they would be facing on Selm-II, but the records had shown that it would be dangerous beyond belief. The waiting became unbearable and it was almost a relief to get the disembarkation notice. The Captain was not in sight when they made the transfer to the Culrel command ship.

“What happens next?” Brion asked, as the three of them emerged from the drop sphere inside the cavernous airlock of the ship.

“That is completely up to you,” Carver said. “It’s your assignment. You’re the one in charge now.”

“Where are we?”

“In orbit around Selm-II.”

“I want to see it.”

“There’s an observation port in the lower lounge. This way. I’ll have the Project Commander meet us there.”