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  “As you wish, Admiral. Sir.” His tone was formal and polite, but Jyrit, his antennae glowing, looked after the departing Halvo in wondering disbelief at the admiral’s irregular actions.

  Halvo himself scarcely knew why he was taking the trouble to investigate the intrusion upon his homeward voyage. Perhaps it was because the journey had been so boringly uneventful or because, once he reached Capital, the planet where the Assembly and the Jurisdiction government offices were located, Halvo would be relegated to an administrative position behind a desk for the rest of his life.

  Faced with the prospect of never commanding his own ship again, let alone the entire Jurisdiction Fleet, Halvo was bound to view any delay that kept him in outer space for a while longer as an undisguised blessing. He might even discover an opportunity to prove himself still capable of handling a challenging situation, just one last time, before the intrigues and the rules of Capital enmeshed him forever. It was all he could hope for at his present stage of life.

  Balancing cautiously, moving slowly to avoid as much of the ever-present pain as possible, Halvo made his way through the familiar corridors of the Jurisdiction warship, heading toward Entrance Hatch Six. Capt. Jyrit was certainly efficient. Half-a-dozen security personnel were waiting for him beside the hatch.

  “The pirate ship has just docked, sir,” said one of the security team as he caught sight of the slowly approaching Halvo. “The air lock is being pressurized now.”

  A moment later a blinking yellow light signaled equalization of pressure and the hatch slid open. Between the Krontar and the Space Dragon stretched a flexible passageway that temporarily joined the two ships. Halvo saw that the entrance to the smaller ship was also open, though there was no sign of any member of the crew.

  “Where is the boarding party we were promised?” Halvo demanded. He received an immediate response from the interior of the smaller ship.

  “I wish the presence of Admiral Halvo Gibal,” said the same metallic voice that Halvo had heard while on the bridge.

  “I am Halvo.” He stepped toward the passageway.

  “If you would care to join us aboard the Space Dragon,” said the voice, “we would be pleased to welcome you.”

  “It was my understanding that you intended to board us. Why the change in plans?” Intrigued, Halvo was about to take another step when he was prevented by the warning of the alert leader of the security team.

  “Sir, let me go first. They haven’t shown themselves yet. We don’t know who is in there. You are too valuable to risk your life in an encounter with a pirate.”

  “You are mistaken, my friend,” Halvo said. “My life has no value at all these days, not to the Jurisdiction Fleet, nor to myself. Not the way I am now. You, on the other hand, are young and healthy, with a long future ahead of you. I will go first.”

  “Sir, it is my duty—”

  “Stay here. That is an order.”

  Halvo could almost see the protest forming on the young man’s lips, and he noted the instant when the obedience trained into all security personnel took over. The man stepped back, leaving Halvo’s way clear.

  “Aye, sir. Please be careful, sir.”

  There was a metal ridge running all around the far edge of the passageway; it held the flexible material tightly in place against a docked ship, thus sealing the passage against the vacuum of outer space. As he stepped onto the Space Dragon, Halvo nearly tripped over the ridge. He caught himself and straightened to an upright position again. A shaft of pain surged along his left leg and up his spine. As a result, he entered the cockpit of the little ship with his mouth compressed into a tight line and his mood altered from interested curiosity to distinct irritation. It did not help matters when he saw what awaited him in the cockpit.

  “I did not come here to speak to an ALF,” Halvo muttered. Preparing to turn around and leave, he unwisely shifted his weight to his left leg. Once more he was assaulted by pain, and the dizziness came upon him, making his surroundings appear to spin. Closing his eyes, he paused to grit his teeth and gather his strength before making the effort to lift his foot over that cursed ridge a second time as he got out of the pirate ship.

  “I am but an emissary,” the robot sitting at the controls said. “Nor am I, precisely speaking, an Artificial Life Form.”

  Halvo opened his eyes again to discover the robot looking at him, if looking was the right word, through two pale blue lights set into its spherical head of gray metal at the approximate place where eyes ought to be in a human head.

  Mercifully, the cockpit and the passageway just outside it had stopped whirling. Reluctant to cause any further disturbance to his inner ear and his sense of balance, Halvo did not move.

  The robot continued to stare at him, its blue lights blinking, until Halvo felt compelled to respond to the remarks it had made.

  “It is my understanding that robots always speak precisely.” Halvo growled the words out of his own malaise and frustration with his physical inadequacies. “Therefore, I expect you to explain to me at once precisely why this minuscule ship should attempt to bar the Krontar’s way. Then you can tell me what you want with me.”

  There was another life form aboard the ship. Halvo was aware of a movement off to one side of the cockpit, but he did not dare turn his head to check on it lest the dizziness return and disable him completely. Instead, he continued to stare at the robot until a figure glided into full view.

  “Greetings, Admiral.” From its appearance, this life form was humanoid. Whether it was actually a human being was difficult to tell at the moment, because the form was encased in a silvery suit of the kind used when performing extravehicular repairs in outer space and the head was covered by an oval-shaped helmet equipped with a gleaming black faceplate. There was no way for Halvo to discern who – or what – was behind that black surface. The voice was muted and distorted beyond easy identification. There was no question, however, about the weapon now trained upon him. “How convenient to have you greet us in person since you are just the man we wanted to see.”

  “I am deeply flattered.” The drugs he had been using recently to ease his pain had dulled Halvo’s physical reflexes. And, apparently, they had also slowed his wits. How could he have allowed his curiosity to override all security precautions? He should have told Jyrit to go ahead and blow the Space Dragon to bits as the sensible Jugarian had wanted to do. Now it was too late. For just an instant Halvo could hear the outraged exclamations of the security team. Then the hatch of the Space Dragon clanged shut behind him, cutting off both sound and his return path to the Krontar.

  “Damnation,” Halvo muttered, bitterly regretting that his own common sense was only now awakening. He knew what was coming before the creature in the silvery space suit motioned him to a bench at one side of the cockpit. Halvo snarled his response to the gesture. “Whoever you are, I regret that I cannot cooperate with you.”

  “Would you rather die?” the distorted voice asked.

  “I think I would,” Halvo said with perfect honesty. “However, I do not believe your intent is to kill me. If it were, I would be dead by now.”

  “You are partially correct, admiral. You will not die just yet, unless you misbehave.”

  “If you are thinking of ransom, forget it. I am of no use to anyone these days,” Halvo said, adding in a low whisper, “least of all to myself.”

  “I have not taken you for ransom. Lie down on that bench and strap yourself in.”

  “I can’t.” Afraid he would disgrace himself if he tried to move, Halvo stayed where he was.

  “I do not have time to argue.” The silver-clad arm waved. “Rolli, put him down.”

  Halvo saw the robot approaching him and realized that it had not actually been sitting at the controls but, rather, standing before them. The robot’s body was a metal box approximately two feet on each side and about four feet tall; it moved on small wheels. The spherical head sat atop this body, joined to it by a short neck that allowed the head to
swivel like a human head. The robot had two jointed metal arms, which protruded from opposite sides of its body. At the ends of the arms were flexible appendages remarkably similar to human hands. These hands grasped Halvo by the shoulders before he could force his aching body to react; then the hands pushed him downward.

  Halvo yelped at the sudden pain in his back. Instinct took over and he fought what was being done to him. The robot was stronger, and as always, sudden movement brought on the dizziness that left Halvo helpless.

  He must have lost consciousness for a few minutes, because the next thing Halvo knew, he was flat on his back on the hard bench and there was a tight metal band wrapped across his upper arms and chest, with a second band over his thighs, holding him there on the bench, confining him beyond any hope of escape. Groaning, he cursed himself for getting into such a fix and for endangering the captain and crew of his transport.

  “If you harm anyone on the Krontar,” Halvo declared through teeth gritted against unrelenting pain, “I will see you hunted across the galaxy until you are caught and punished.”

  “I have no intention of hurting anyone else.” The voice was muffled because his captor, having stripped off the silver gloves, was removing the helmet. “Rolli, send this message to the captain of the Krontar. ‘Admiral Halvo Gibal is now a prisoner. He will not be seen again within the Jurisdiction. Therefore, it is useless to send out search parties.’ Is that done, Rolli?”

  “Done, Perri.” Waiting for the next order, the robot paused, its metal fingers raised above the control panel.

  “You know what to do,” Perri said. “Activate Starthruster.”

  Halvo did not waste time speculating on how a space pirate had acquired the latest Jurisdiction technology, a device supposedly kept as a deep military secret. Starthruster was able to propel a space vessel so rapidly that the ship he was imprisoned on would be out of range of the sensors and the weapons of the Krontar within a few seconds.

  There would be no way for Capt. Jyrit to trace the course the pirate ship was taking, no way for him to follow on a rescue mission. Halvo knew the chances he would ever be found had just diminished to near zero. Furthermore, what had happened to him was his own fault.

  These thoughts flitted quickly through Halvo’s mind, only to be eclipsed by amazement as he watched his captor doff the bulky, concealing helmet. The bared hands working at the clasps at the neck of the helmet were slender, with delicately shaped nails. Then the helmet was off and a flood of shining, dark red hair tumbled down around the shoulders of the silver space suit. Perri laid down the helmet and turned to regard Halvo out of dark green eyes.

  Never had Halvo seen such a face, not on any of the various worlds he knew. Beneath the glorious cascade of shimmering, curling red hair, Pern’s brow was wide, her cheekbones high, her nose straight and a little too short for perfect beauty. Her mouth was small and full, hinting at a tempting sensuality, but that particular message was contradicted by her pointed, determined chin. The green eyes – wide and serious and set at a slight tilt in her charming, heart-shaped face – gave her a curiously catlike look. But she was human and entirely bewitching.

  And deadly. Perri was holding her weapon pointed directly at Halvo’s heart.

  Chapter Two

  “He is not in the best of health,” Rolli said. “He is too pale.”

  “I have noticed.” With one hand on the weapon in the holster at her belt, Perri regarded her prisoner with cool eyes.

  Halvo was feeling increasingly apprehensive. After her first threatening gesture toward him, Perri had put the weapon away. Then she and the robot had left him alone for hours. Strapped down on the cursed, hard bench, his back and legs ached while his captors piloted the Space Dragon across the galaxy. Hoping to discover where they were going, Halvo had strained to hear what his captors said to each other, but they kept their voices too low for him to distinguish any words. He knew it scarcely mattered. Wherever they were, they had left the Krontar far behind. They might even be out of Jurisdiction space by now.

  It was too late to regret his own stupidity in walking into an obvious trap. What was done was done. The best Halvo could hope for was a quick death. Somehow he did not think that was likely to happen. A brave death then, or as brave as he could make it. Halvo tried not to think about some of the methods he had encountered for putting prisoners to death, nor about the many reasons space pirates were bound to have for wanting the Admiral of the Jurisdiction Fleet dead.

  “He will require nourishment,” the robot said.

  “I know, Rolli.” Perri took her weapon in hand and pointed it at the helpless Halvo. “I want your solemn word, Admiral. If I release you from those bands, you will not attack me.”

  “Believe me,” Halvo responded, “I am in no condition to attack anyone.” If they were going to feed him, it must mean they were planning to keep him alive for a while longer. Which, in turn, meant he just might have time to think of a way to escape. He could tell by the discomfort he was experiencing that the benefits of the long-acting pain blockers he had last taken while aboard the Krontar had dissipated. His next dose was overdue. But there was an advantage to not having his medicine available. Without it, he could think more clearly.

  “Your word, Admiral.” Perri frowned at him. She was no longer wearing the bulky space suit that had served to disguise her identity from crew members of the Krontar. Both suit and helmet were packed away in a locker next to the entrance hatch. Perri was now clad in a form-fitting tunic and trousers in a deep shade somewhere between blue and purple. Over her shoulders and down her back the waves of dark red hair flowed, glowing against the somber fabric background.

  “I promise,” Halvo said, tearing his thoughts away from her enticing appearance. “I will behave.” Didn’t the wench know that a promise made under duress was not binding? Or was she playing some intricate, unexplained game with him?

  Perri reached above his head to push a button on the bulkhead. Halvo tried not to look at the rounded breasts revealed as the blue-purple fabric stretched at her movement. The flexible metal bands holding him slipped soundlessly back into their slots.

  “Get up,” Perri said.

  “I’m not sure I can.”

  “Get up!” Her green eyes flamed.

  Halvo tried to roll to his side, hoping he could push himself to a sitting position that way. He discovered he could not move. Perri looked impatient and tightened her grip on her weapon.

  “Sorry.” Halvo grunted. “I am doing my best. You kept me in one position too long.”

  “Rolli, get him up. I want him on his feet.”

  “Not too fast,” Halvo warned, “or I won’t be able to stay up.”

  The robot took hold of him and this time Halvo did not resist the metal hands. He could not, however, prevent the cry of pain that tore from his lips as Rolli drew him upright.

  “You are malingering!” Perri shouted.

  “I am not!” Halvo could barely speak because of the searing agony in his left leg and his spine. Closing his eyes, he held on to Rolli as if his life depended on the robot’s support, which, for all he knew, it did. If he crumpled to the deck, the beautiful tormentor watching his every movement might well decide to blast him out of existence. “Just let me stay like this for a minute or two. Then I’ll be all right and I’ll be able to walk.”

  “If you are pretending,” Perri said, “you will regret it.”

  “I do not think this is pretense,” the robot said, still supporting Halvo with hands that had become surprisingly gentle. “Perri, you will remember the report of the injuries he sustained last year in the pirate war near Styxia.”

  Was Halvo imagining it or did Perri look at him with a slightly more sympathetic gaze? He would have expected her to be infuriated by mention of the battle that had effectively wiped out all piratical activities in the Styxian Sector. It was reasonable to assume that she had lost friends and, perhaps, relatives in the successful war against the pirates.

 
“I haven’t forgotten his injuries,” Perri said to her robot. Then, to Halvo, she said, “Are you hungry, Admiral?”

  “I haven’t thought about it until now, but, yes, I believe I am,” Halvo responded.

  “Then come to the galley. We will eat together. Let me warn you. There are monitors all over this ship. Rolli will be watching every move you make and listening to each word you say. Make no foolish attempt to overpower me in hope of commandeering the Space Dragon.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.” Feeling steadier on his feet by that time, Halvo let go of the robot and waved one hand in an elegant gesture. “After you, Captain Perri.”

  “Never.” Perri tilted her pointed little chin as if to tell him without words that she was on to that particular trick. “You go first, Admiral.”

  “It was worth a try.” She didn’t have to know that he was in no condition to take her on in hand-to-hand combat. On second thought, she would be a fool not to know it. Keeping his head as level as he could, moving slowly, Halvo found the galley.

  “Sit.” Perri motioned to a contoured chair at the dining table.

  “Thank you. I must warn you that it will probably take a while.” Slowly, carefully, Halvo lowered himself into the chair, which immediately molded itself around his body. With his spine and his legs properly supported at last, Halvo let himself relax for a moment of pain-free comfort.

  “Only Regulan food is programmed into the processor,” Perri said.

  “Regulan? Then order up some fruits and vegetables for me. I’ll skip the main course.” Halvo should have known she was a Regulan by her accent and by her incredible, deep green eyes. He might have made the connection if he hadn’t been so concerned with his own physical discomforts and embarrassed by the humbling realization that he had been so easily captured by a slim young woman.