Star Winds

The leading vessel came through the barrage. It swooped down toward the starship’s superstructure, but then was hit by a bombard and apparently lost control, crashing into the maindeck and ripping down the air balloon like so much paper.

From the broken hull crawled and staggered two score or so space-suited figures. Most were man-shaped, but a few were four-legged creatures, with narrow, rearing bodies and long necks. The forelegs were longer than the hind legs, and together with a pair of grasping limbs the creatures looked a little like miniature giraffes with arms. These, Zhorga imagined, were the Kerek.

But they all, men and aliens alike, fought with equal ferocity as the Bucentaur’s commandoes rushed to engage them. They wielded outlandish blades that were oddly curved, almost circular. They aimed ring-shaped devices which hurled spinning discuses capable of slicing a man in half. They gave no quarter nor expected any, and soon a bloody brawl was in progress.

The captain shifted the scene away from the deck, back to the Kerek flotilla. Two more galleys were blazing in the darkness. The rest were withdrawing, beaten off.

“They’re licked!” Zhorga exclaimed loudly.

Baron Matello cast him a sour glance. “A small squadron like that is no great threat to a ship of our size, but the Kerek can rarely resist a chance to attack,” he told him. “When they really move, their fleets number thousands.”

He turned back to the screen, fretting. “A damned nuisance just the same! This close to Maralia!”

“Strange we should come upon them accidentally, space being so vast,” Zhorga ventured with a frown.

Matello ignored this, but Veautrin spoke quietly to Zhorga. “It’s no accident. The Kerek have some instinct that helps them find ships over immense distances.” His lips quirked. “Yet one more facet of the ‘Kerek Power.’”

Before Zhorga could ask the meaning of this phrase, the screen focused back on the maindeck, where the last of the intruders were being efficiently butchered. Clouds of vapor puffed from slashed space suits, shining briefly in the light of the deck lamps before dissipating into the void.

At the troop sergeant’s orders a prisoner was taken; overwhelmed, disarmed, and then dragged down below. Minutes later, under heavy guard and with a sword point at his neck, he was brought into the control room.

Zhorga was somewhat startled to see that the renegade human cut an impressive figure. He stood tall and proud, his head held high. His space suit was a magnificent piece of work, made of honey-colored metal inlaid with what looked like silver and gold. The helmet, however, had been removed, and his face reminded Zhorga very much of Captain Veautrin—young, moustachioed, with blazing but steady eyes, and blond hair. But a foul smell, like the odor of rotting eggs, seeped from him, and the handsomeness of his features was made bizarre by a proboscis-like gadget clipped to his nose, enabling him to stomach the odious mixture of gases that made up the Kerek atmosphere.

“You want to see one? Here it is!” Baron Matello intoned somberly. “A human turned Kerek!”

His expression a mixture of contempt and pity, the starship captain rose and gazed at the prisoner. “Were you born under the Kerek?” he asked mildly.

The prisoner seemed unconscious of the proboscis, which dangled and danced as he spoke but did not prevent him from speaking clearly. “No,” he said, “I am from Frujos, of the Anderra system, which came under the Kerek Power in my youth.”

“Why were you sailing these reefs?” Matello demanded suddenly.

“You know the reason. Kerek ships rove everywhere.”

The man’s manner was disconcertingly rational and self-possessed. “You would do well not to resist, but to join with us,” he declared. “Cease your opposition. Live in vigor and harmony with us, not against us. Ours is the better life! We know true joy under the Kerek Power!”

“As slaves of the Kerek?” Matello snorted.

The prisoner’s voice took on a ringing tone. “Not so! We are no slaves, for the Kerek also are under the Kerek Power. With us, all are equal and together as brothers.”

“Kill him,” Matello said gloomily. “Throw his body overboard with the rest.”

The warrior put up barely any resistance as he was bustled from the room. Zhorga heard chopping sounds from the other side of the door; then something heavy was dragged away.

Baron Matello grunted. “Hah! The Kerek Power!”

Without another word he swept from the room.

“What is this ‘Kerek Power?’” Zhorga asked Veautrin, as the two of them also turned to go.