Slave Empire III - The Shrike by T C Southwell Page A

space
ahead, blazing like a sun. A proximity alarm wailed, and the
pilot’s features stretched in a grimace of pain. The ship’s
repellers found something solid ahead, and it lurched. The sudden
change of direction overloaded the inertial compensators and threw
the crew to the floor. All but the pilot, strapped to his couch,
his brow furrowed.
    The old
freighter’s hull creaked and groaned under the massive strain of
the acute deceleration and turn, the forces threatening to tear her
apart. A resounding bang told them that part of the hull had
buckled under the tremendous force of the starboard repeller. As
the crewmen staggered to their feet, fighting the pull of false
gravity, the vast ball of Net energy dispersed, revealing a
massive, scintillating crystalline entity. It blazed like a crystal
star, beams of radiance slashing the darkness around it. The medley
of colours that filled it shimmered, making it resemble a mammoth,
filigree diamond.
    Drogar gaped at
it, his bearded face a study of wonder and terror. The whooping
cacophony of alarms almost drowned out his words.
    “A crystal
ship!”
    Another urgent,
beeping alarm joined the screaming threnody, and Solon glanced at a
holographic readout, his heart thudding. “The starboard repeller’s
failed!”
    The false
gravity vanished, making them reel again as the ship fell towards
the entity. The captain bellowed orders, and the pilot twitched and
groaned as he tried to force the ship to turn. The freighter’s Net
link was not designed for high-speed manoeuvring, however, and its
change of course was sluggish. Solon stared with stunned terror at
the alien ship that filled the screens, knowing the fate that
awaited them if they could not turn away. More proximity alarms
whooped, and the ship’s dulcet voice spoke in its calm, artificial
tones.
    “Collision
alert. Collision alert. Dangerous proximity. Abandon ship.
Collision in two minutes.”
    Drogar pushed
Solon towards the door, yelling, “Get to the life pod!” He shook
the pilot, then pulled his hand from the sensor slot, breaking his
link with the ship.
    “Get out!” he
shouted. “Get to the pod!”
    As the pilot
headed for the exit, searing brilliance enveloped the ship, making
Solon cringe and close his eyes. He cried out and stumbled around,
groping for the door. The light vanished, and the young crewman
looked at the screens with watering eyes. The alarms fell silent,
and the ship’s neural net clicked and hummed. The lights on the
consoles flashed, most turning green.
    Atlan’s pearly
globe filled the screens, and they appeared to be in orbit. The
captain hurried to a console and slapped his hand on the sensor
pad, turning the exterior sensors until an image appeared on a
screen. The Crystal Ship hung in space, several hundred thousand
kilometres away, beyond the orbit of the furthest moon.
    “What the hell
happened, Captain?” the pilot demanded.
    “At a guess, I
would say that thing moved us out of harm’s way. It’s put us into
orbit.” He scanned the readouts. “Looks stable, too.”
    They stared at
the screen, watching the points of golden brilliance that were
Net-linked ships draw close to the Crystal Ship and stop.
     
     
    Tallyn could
hardly believe his eyes. It was like a bad dream, one he had, on
occasion, been unfortunate enough to have. Vengeance had returned
to Atlan from only a few light minutes away, where she had been
accelerating on a routine trip to Vasdurn. The emergency recall had
not given a reason, but now it was clear.
    He looked at
Marcon, who seemed entranced. “When did that damned thing
appear?”
    “Fourteen
minutes ago.”
    “Has it made
any hostile moves?”
    “No.” Marcon
consulted his readouts. “It’s not moving at all. It’s just sitting
there. It dropped out of the energy dimension exactly where it is
now. It caused quite a stir, and one freighter almost collided with
it. Her repellers failed, and the ship put her into orbit.”
    “Put