BillLindau

The Bait, a novella

The Bait
by
Bill Lindau


The pilot gritted his teeth. He drummed his fingers on the panel of the Gobbod Security Force landcar. The car hovered in an alley across from the Red Raptor Inn.
The pilot and his older partner watched the inhabitants of the planet Embricon and the Gobbod soldiers. The oil on their faces gleamed under the street lights.
The gray-uniformed occupation troops and their fellow Gobbods in the Imperial Aerospace Fleet let the heels of their hands rest on their shouldered Jooblers. The inhabitants glowered at them.
"Strof, they're here," the young pilot said. He pointed to a Terramagnan couple striding up the sidewalk.
The older man cleared his throat. The pilot gulped. "I mean, Constable Strof."
The poker-faced Strof put a wireless to his mouth. He spoke into it as he watched the two Terramagnans.
---
Janniver Vrek and her older brother headed to the Red Raptor Inn. Three soldiers from a Gobbod troop-transport battalion came the other way. One of them bumped into Janniver before she could step out of his way.
"Ooh, pardon me, sweet thing," the Gobbod said, smirking.
"The soldiers tipped their kepis to the two Terramagnans and walked on. They snickered as they slapped each other on the back.
One of them reached for his Joobler. He jerked his shoulder forward as if he were going to draw the weapon. That set off another round of laughter from the three slimy-faced Gobbods.
Janniver shook her fist at them. Miklan moved in front of her. He nudged his sister away from the Gobbods. "Keep your cool, kid. Keep your cool," he said.
Janniver saw the Gobbod Security Force landcar across the street from the inn.
"Stinking Gobs are watching us everywhere we go," she said.
"Don't stare at them," Miklan said. "And quit being so jumpy. Alpha One's looking out for us."
"Really? Where is he."
"Closer than you think." Miklan winked at her."Believe me."
The streets of downtown Lofpuril swelled with people as the dull orange sun settled on the skyline. Although the Gobbod occupation government had imposed a law forbidding Embricon inhabitants to drink alcohol, many of the Embricons still went to the nightclubs and taverns. The Terramagnans and the Morkon Islanders could only purchase food and non-alcoholic drinks. They continued to go to the pubs and nightclubs for patriotic reasons, to keep them in business with Terramagnan money.
A group of Embricons, including two men from the Morkon Islands, stepped around the Vreks and went into the Red Raptor Inn. Miklan glanced at the Gobbod car in the alley. He raised his arm and quickly brought it down. Then he steered Janniver into the inn.
Bregna Keldon, the fifty-year-old proprietor, poured two goblets of pyongo juice.
"Welcome, welcome, my friends."
"Ist da mai-yor yet arrifed?" Janniver spoke with the accent of one of the languages of the planet Prax. She had majored in intergalactic studies at the university.
"No, bubareeka, da mai-yor ist not yet arrifed," Miklan said. He grinned. "But yet arrifed will he be, and da sooner we dissort him, da sooner you can stop the talking like dis."
Janniver punched him on the shoulder. "Oh, cut it out -- I mean, halt da sport. Me you befuddle."
Bregna leaned across the bar. "Don't get her tickled, Vrek."
Janniver looked around. She moved around the bar, next to Bregna. "Ah, excuse me, Mrs. Keldon, have you heard anything about Lieutenant Krin?"
Bregna took her by the arm. She led her into the stockroom. "I told you, we cannot discuss Avralian activities."
"I know, but I just can't stand not knowing about him," Janniver said.
She clutched the silver medallion beneath her tunic. Drakko Krin had given it to her before he entered flight school.
"My dear, I feel for you," Bregna said. "But the less we know about allied movements, the better for them. And the better for Firewave. Do not ask again."
Then she smiled. "But I can tell you, child, your man is mighty hard to kill."
A server led a couple from the Morkon Islands and three Terramagnans to a corner booth. For Gobbod sappers in dull brown uniforms sat three stalls away.
His eye on the Gobbods, Miklan took a small silvery-blue disk from his tunic. He held it under the bar and touched it to his thigh. In ten seconds the metallic disk changed to the same deep shade of green as his trousers.
"What is that?" Janniver said. "Okh, I remember."
Miklan tucked the jamming disk back into his tunic. He had shown it to Janniver during the final briefing with Alpha One's head of Mission Command. "You get enough of these little fiends and it's goodbye, Gobbies."
Bregna tapped Miklan on the arm. Janniver looked behind her.
Five gray-clad Gobbods with shaven heads came into the tavern. One pumped his fist in the air twice.
"Don't turn around," Bregna whispered. "They're ground troops, not Krentox."
The Gobbod soldiers passed by the sappers' booth. One of the sappers thrust three fingers at the soldiers, making an obscene gesture. Two soldiers slapped their upper arms at the sappers. Both groups of Gobbods broke into laughter.
Janniver balled her fists. She clenched her teeth and rolled her eyes upward.
Miklan sipped his pyongo juice. He squeezed his eyes shut and twisted his mouth into a wry frown. "I also hate it," Bregna said.
When Embricon surrendered to the invading Gobbods two years ago, the Gobbods' occupation government banned all Embriconian inhabitants from consuming alcohol. The Gobbods ordered the taverns to remain open, however, to serve the officials and occupation troops on weekend passes. The taverns could serve only food and non-alcoholic drinks to the Embricons. Many of the inhabitants still went to the pubs, though, to keep the tavernkeepers in business with Embricon money.
Bregna and her husband had opened the Red Raptor years before the Gobbod conquest. They closed it when they joined the Terramagnan army. Bregna's husband Johevy had one of his hands blown off by a grenade in the fighting. After the surrender, the Gobbods forced Bregna to re-open the Red Raptor. Now Bregna managed the inn, while her Johevy looked after the house and fed their three cats.
A hover cruiser with the jagged cross and hawk wings of the Imperial Gobbod Aerospace Fleet stopped outside the inn. Two slimy-cheeked officers in scarlet dress jackets stepped out as the vehicle hovered above the pavement.
Bregna peered into the stockroom. "Now," she said.
The Gobbod hover cruiser glided around the corner, onto the parking deck. The two Hawkship pilots stood outside the inn until a tall, broad-shouldered officer approached them.
The three men walked in. Besides the usual fighter pilot's insignia, the broad-shouldered officer wore major's crosses on his epaulets. Four silver and gold medals gleamed on his left breast. He also wore small crescent-shaped pins on both his sleeves, twenty-seven in all. Each one stood for an Avralian vessel he claimed to have destroyed.
He puffed out his chest. The other oily-skinned Gobbods pointed to him.
Miklan tapped Janniver on the shoulder. "Act one, scene one," he whispered.
Janniver swiveled around on her bar stool and slapped Miklan across the face.
"Keep your hands to the self, you," she said.
Miklan rubbed his reddening cheek. "You little tart," he said. He took a napkin and spat blood on it.
Janniver gasped. "I didn't mean to hit him that hard," she whispered to Bregna.
Bregna put her finger to her closed lips, then turned to Miklan. "You have insulted my patrons for the last time, you swine. Get out now and don't come back."
Miklan snatched his jacket and headed for the gate. He shook his finger at Bregna. "You're in for it now, you old hag." He ran outside.
The Gobbod major and his two friends strode to the bar. "Is there a problem here, bird?" the major asked.
"No. Nothing. Am all right, sir," Janniver said.
"What did that Terrod say to you?" the major asked. He turned to Bregna. "Did you serve him any spirits, madame publady?"
Something cold shot up Janniver's spine, like an electric sword. She shivered.
She remembered her Praxi accent. "No. She no serve him," she said. "He-he drink before to come here. Madame Keldon no serve him. Is why he thus dissorted."
The gap-toothed Gobbod jerked his thumb at the door. "Our security troopers will deal with that fool," he said. "Hm. Let me you ask something, bird. Who escorted you within here?"
"I wait my friend girl. She late," Janniver said.
"Just you two?" the gap-toothed Gobbod said. "No masculine escort?"
"No. My friend, myself only and alone," Janniver said.
The third Gobbod rubbed his chin. He had a purplish-red boil on his cheek. It looked like a small ripe plum. "That fellow causing you trouble, you know, I saw him before," he said.
"He looks like that Terrod who won the University games ten-thousand-meter run a couple of years ago," the gap-toothed Gobbod said. "You remember him, do you not, Major Krentox? What was his name? Vrek?"
Krentox shook his head. "No. That could not be him. Why would someone so famous be lurking about in this bombed-out place? If he survived the invasion, he's hiding out in an Avralian refugee camp."
He turned to Janniver. "Do you really not know who that man was?"
Janniver threw up her arms. "I tell truth. Never see him until I come here."
The gap-toothed Gobbod picked at his crotch. "Speaking of foreign athletes, Major, do you also remember that Avroid sprinter from the University of Greenmoon Nine?" he said. "Drakko Krin?"
Janniver tried not to stare at him.
A wet belch gurgled out of his mouth. "I heard reports that we''ve just captured him."
The blood rushed to Janniver's face. Her head felt hot, as if it were going to explode.
She wanted to jump on top of the enemy pilot and tear out his throat. She felt as if she were going to fly out of her own body. If she had a knife or a blaster she would have killed them all, those puffy-chested slobs strutting about in her streets, her country, her homeworld.
The gap-toothed Gobbod backhanded the pilot with the boil, squarely in his chest.
"Listen to this, Nopkosh," he said. "This Krin tschong's a Daggerwing pilot. A friend of mine in security's brother has a friend in the Fifty-Fifth Predators."
The major and the pilot with the boil started at him.
"Last month they wiped out a squadron of Avroids around the Menzenian Moons," the gap-toothed Gobbod said. "Five-Five blew up nine of the Daggerwings, but they took three pilot's prisoner. My friend's brother heard that Krin tschong was one of them."
"You're joking," said the pilot with the plum boil. "The Drakko Krin, a prisoner of the Empire?"
"I'm as serious as the yellow crungs, Nopkosh," the gap-toothed Gobbod said.
Oh, dear God, Janniver thought.
She realized she was falling. She caught herself against a chair before she hit the floor. Without thinking, she grabbed Drakko's medallion beneath her tunic.
"What's wrong with you, bird?" the gap-toothed Gobbod said. "You look as if one just clopped you on the head."
Janniver let go of the hidden medallion. "I-I think I eat bad food. Excuse me. I be sick."
She headed to the entrance. "The lavatory's upstairs," Frak Krentox said.
"Ak, yes. I forget."
Janniver spun around and stumbled to the stairs. The chain from Drakko's medallion cut into the back of her neck. She covered her mouth as she climbed the stairs.
Bregna followed her into the lavatory. Janniver splashed cold water on her face.
Bregna pushed the door to. "What's the matter, Vrek?" the publady asked.
"Did you know about Drakko? Did you?"
"No time to discuss this now," Bregna said.
"They got him." Janniver almost screamed it. "Those fremkopi were bragging about it down there. And you knew, didn't you?"
She blurted out what the gap-toothed Gobbod said. "I can't believe you'd keep that from me."
"Now listen to me," Bregna said. "There was nothing to keep from anybody. That story's false."
"False?"
"Alpha One didn't want you to hear it," Bregna said. "It's a lie we've been feeding to Gobbod intelligence."
"What do you mean?"
Bregna clasped the younger woman by the hair. "All right. The second I tell you this I want you to forget it," Bregna whispered.
"We have some agents in their security force," Bregna said after a moment. "One of the pilots goes to their headquarters all the time, and one of our plants sort of made friends with him. He told the pilots this story about Lieutenant Krin to test his gullibility, to test the efficiency of their intelligence units."
"But, why?" Janniver said. "Why tell him something like that?"
Bregna sighed. "Orders from Alpha One," she said. "I don't know his reasons. But I assure you, Lieutenant Krin is very much alive."
Janniver shook her head. "What kind of person is this Alpha One?"
Two Terramagnan females came in. "What's with her?" one of them asked.
"Too much flurkfish," Bregna said.
She led Janniver out. They sat on a bench outside the lavatory. "I'm sorry I went off like that," Janniver said.
"Go back down there and let Frak Krentox chat you up," Bregna said. "Now. He's not going to stay here all evening."
Janniver turned to her. "Mrs. Keldon, I'm glad that wasn't true about Drakko, but I'm still so upset I could tear that Gob's gonads off with my bare hands. I mean it. Can't Alpha One let me do something else?"
Bregna took Janniver by both arms. "Absolutely not. Alpha One will expel you from Firewave if you quit this mission. He'll ship you to Prax and keep you there under guard until we drive out the Gobbods. Do you understand?"
Janniver nodded. She wiped her nose.
"And don't even think about walking out of this pub," Bregna said. "You won't get ten meters out the door before our other agents will pick you up. Clear?"
"Oh, no," Janniver said. "Do you really think I'd do that?"
"You need to prove to Alpha One that you wouldn't," Bregna said.
She tugged Janniver to her feet. "Come, don't keep your guests waiting."
Frak Krentox stood at the landing. "Are you all right?" he asked Janniver.
Janniver nodded. "Better now. Thank you."
Nopkosh, the pilot with the boil, said, "Don't you worry, little bird. We'll sort out that Terrod turf jockey if he's stupid enough to come back."
"We certainly hope this bird's right about you not serving him," the gap-toothed Gobbod said to Bregna. "You have a nice place here. We'd hate to close it down because you by serving spirits to the natives have violated Imperial law. We don't want any more to lock up a single pubkeeper," he added. "Even if they are Terrod monkeys."
"Let her be, Greepog," Nopkosh said. "She's the only native who doesn't spit in the drinks."
Frak Krentox turned to Janniver. "You are not Terramagnan, are you?" he said. "I assure you, my fellow officers will for their remarks apologize, will you not, my brothers in arms?"
Janniver looked at the floor. She bit her index finger as her face turned red. "That is no matter, officer-pilot. I come from Prax."
Krentox cocked his head. "Ah, Prax. What a delightful planet. I could drink the stout n your homeworld by the drum."
He held up his hand. "Not that I actually consume such quantities at one time," he said. "But I spent on your homeworld a single year. I was an exchange student at the Free University before the war. But tell me, tender one, what are you doing on Embricon?"
"I-I am on semester leave. From the Free University." Janniver could not remember the other schools on Prax.
Krentox touched his chin. "Coming to Embricon to spend your leave?" he said. "The Empire of Gobbod has this planet completely under martial law. As you must have learned, the Avralians are trying to invade Embricon. This is not a safe place, tender one."
From the corner of her eye, Janniver caught Bregna's pained expression.
"Oh, I-I come to stop by my uncle," Janniver said.
"Did you?" Krentox said. "And how does your uncle make a living now on Embricon?"
"He, ah, he operates a -- a how you say? -- an interplanetary exporting business."
"Still? Even after Embricon lost the war," Krentox said. "What does he export?"
Janniver's throat felt dry. "Pyongo fruit."
Krentox leaned against the bar and let out a laugh. "Pyongos," he said.
"Two years ago, His Excellency's troops all but pounded this world into ashes. And yet has this fellow remained behind that he could continue to sell tropical citrus fruit," Krentox said. "I would like really like to shake his hand, this entrepreneur uncle you claim exists."
Janniver glanced at Bregna. The publady pointed outside. "He, ah, he exports the pyongo fruit to Prax," Janniver said. "He-he deal only with-with peoples who hate Avralians."
Krentox grinned, then shrugged his shoulders.
"Ah, well. It is good to met someone from a neutral system. I tell you, you really must come to Gobbod. Especially the Imperial City. Operas, art museums, jontee tournaments, parks, really a beautiful place."
He slapped the holster of his Joobler. Then he raised his arm and whistled.
"Madame publady. Serve our Praxi friend whatever she pleases."
Bregna leaned over the bar.
"I think I shall have Golden Island lager," Janniver said.
"The same for myself, Madame publady," Krentox said.
Half an hour later, Janniver and Frak Krentox were sitting in a Gobbod landcar, in the parking deck. She let the Gobbod kiss her and put his arms around her.
I never imagined doing things like this for the motherworld, Janniver thought.
Stop it, stop it, stop it, she told herself. This is vile. Nothing funny about it all. This creature and his friends killed your people. He and his friends are all laughing because they think they just put the man you love in a cage.
Janniver tried to imagine it was Drakko in the hovercruiser with her, it was Drakko who had his arms and mouth all over her, not this -- this slob -- who reeked of cheap faceoil and looked like a spiky-haired dog on a parade float.
The Gobbod's oily skin gleamed in the street light. Drakko had healthy, sweet-smelling skin. Not like these Gobs. How can their women stand them?
Janniver tried not to gag as she kissed Frak Krentox down the side of his face.
Janniver remembered holding one of the zogcarp her father had caught when she was six. The oil on Krentox's cheeks reminded her of the slimy coat on the fish's body.
Laughter bubbled up in Janniver's chest. She took a deep breath, but she couldn't stop a snort of laughter from exploding from her mouth and spraying Krentox all over his face.
"What's the matter with you? Spitting all over me?"
"Oh, oh, no, I so sorry, I choke on something," Janniver said. "Please pardon, no?"
Krentox shook his head. "I've never met a bird like you, Praxi."
The landcar gave off a faint buzzing sound.
A purple light flashed on and off on the pilot's side of the console.
"Why you power engine?" Janniver asked.
"Let me show you something," Krentox said.
He punched three buttons. The landcar began to move. "A forcebelt automatically straps you in while the cruiser's in motion," he said.
He turned to the Terramagnan and grinned. "Great way to restrain enemy captives, don't you think?"
"Ah, ah, yes."
Krentox changed his grin to a stern, slit-eyed look. He uncovered another panel of controls. "Plus, it works excellently on Embricon subversives masquerading as neutral offworlders."
Janniver's heart sank. "Ex-excuse?"
"You are not a Praxi," Krentox said. "Tell me the truth. Where do you come from?"
"I am from Prax. Why say you that?"
The landcar turned left. It floated past the inn and started up the street. "I could turn you in to security," Krentox said. "But you are much too pretty to send to a prison camp. Oh, yes, we have constructed a very hot compound on this planet. So I think we'll go out on the open path."
"Open path?"
Krentox took her hand. "I'll let you try to convince me not to bring you in for interrogation."
"You bastard," Janniver said. She groped inside the door for a handle.
"No use trying to escape, little fly," the Gobbod said. "But don't be so frightened. I'm not going to do anything you might have seen in this awful Avroid propaganda disks.
He stroked the trembling Terramagnan's angel-fine hair. His tongue snaked out of his leering mouth. "Why don't you just settle back and enjoy the ride," the Gobbod whispered. "Let me show you what this splendid work of Imperial craftsmanship can do."
The engine stopped.
The compartment went dark as the lights on the controls faded.
The hovercruiser struck the ground. It bounced twice with a screech like a scalded giant, then crashed into a light pole, throwing Janniver and Krentox out of their deactivated harnesses. Janniver grabbed the top of her seat before her head struck the front panel.
The Terramagnan woman threw all her weight against the passenger door. Krentox was groaning and holding his head. The door did not budge. Janniver dug her fingers into the edge of the door and pulled as hard as she could. It moved a foot.
Something small hit the window and exploded six inches from Janniver's head.
Krentox was pointing his Joobler at her.
"Make another move and I'll aim for your ear."
"Don't kill me. Please." Janniver's voice came out in a dry squeak.
"You had your chance, you Terrod whore," Krentox said. "You and your little friends run around in the shadows, calling yourselves freedom fighters. But you're all just a bunch of cowards and hoodlums. Hiding out in cellars like rats."
"I--I--I don't -- I don't know wh-wh-what you're talking about."
Krentox fired again. Something hot zipped over the right side of Janniver's abdomen. She glanced down. The slug had signed a six-inch slit in her tunic, but she did not see any blood.
"Lucky again, Terrod," Krentox said. "What an act, you with that accent and your pyongo-seller uncle. Your turdbag friends must be so desperate they'll take anybody stupid enough to believe their nonsense."
He aimed the Joobler at Janniver's left eye.
"I hoped you would not force me to do this. But you leave me no choice. You're about to find out what the Gobbod Empire does to cowards, common killers and skulky little tramps like you."
The Gobbod reached between Janniver's breasts. His fingers closed around Drakko's medallion beneath her tunic.
"Oh, ho, what's this, then?" Krentox said. "Maybe a little souvenir for your friendly Gobbod liberators? Let's have a look."
He pulled her towards him.
The door slid open.
Janniver swung her forearm upward and knocked the Gobbod's hand from her chest. The sides of her tunic ripped open. She tumbled over backwards, but somebody caught her before she hit the ground.
"We've got her, Major," the pilot from the security force landcar said.
Constable Strof turned Janniver right side up. He helped her to her feet. "Who are you?" she asked.
"Constable Strof and Private Arnk of the Gobbod Security Force, my lady," the older officer said.
"That woman's mine, Constable," Krentox said. "The fleet will deal with her."
"With all due respect, sir, this is security's jurisdiction," Strof said.
Armk, the pilot, tied Janniver's wrists together. She looked at the ground as he led her to the security landcar.
"You'd better make her talk," Krentox called out.
The security hovercruiser idled beside the wrecked car. Arnk slid the door open. He pushed Janniver into the front seat and climbed in after her.
Janniver's chin trembled. "Officer, I -- why are you arresting me?"
"For membership in the Firewave," Arnk said.
"But I don't know what you're talking about."
The pilot grinned. "Oh, yes, you do."
The door slid shut. Arnk punched a button. An invisible forcebelt bound Janniver in the seat.
"We don't want you running away before we show you something," Arnk said.
He got out. Strof had his arm around Frak Krentox. The fighter pilot was unconscious, his hands shackled behind his back.
Arnk helped Strof roll him into the back seat.
"Oh, no, is he dead?" Janniver said.
She started breathing hard. "I--I--I didn't mean to kill him. I swear it. He had too much to drink and he was -- ."
"Oh, pipe down. He'll be fine," Strof said. He clambered into the back seat, beside the unconscious Krentox.
"At least until he spends a few months in one of our cells," Strof said.
"You mean you're arresting him, too?" Janniver said. "What for?"
Strof broke into laughter. "I don't believe it," he said.
He turned to the pilot. "Omega Seven, we make such good Gobbod police our own people don't even recognize us."
Arnk reached down and unlocked Janniver's shackles.
"You can stop freaking out now," the pilot said. "We're in Firewave, too. Janniver Vrek, meet our honorable commander-in-chief."
He nodded to Strof. "Alpha One."
"That's right," Strof said. "We are all Firewave."
"You mean -- ."
"Agent Omega Seven and I have been staking out the inn all evening, keeping an eye on you and your brother," Strof said.
"While you were keeping our friend here -- ah -- occupied, your brother sneaked out to the parking deck and planted one of his scrambledisks onto the undercarriage. That's how he crippled that landcar."
"Oh, my God," Janniver said. "I don't believe it. But what about Lieutenant Krin? The Gobbods haven't really taken him prisoner, have they?"
Alpha One's smile disappeared. His mouth grew taut and his eyebrows leveled off. "I thought Bregna told you he was still with his unit," he barked. "You telling me you don't believe her?"
Janniver gulped. "Beg your pardon, sir. I shall not ask again."
Alpha One turned to the pilot. "Well, what are you waiting for? Let's get out of here."
"Sir, yes sir." Omega Seven put the car in motion.
"But, sir, ah, Alpha One," Janniver said. "How did you get this car? Those uniforms?"
"Ssh," Alpha One said.
The poker-faced older man looked at Frak Krentox. The big Gobbod moved his head and groaned.
Alpha One looked away.
"I don't have the heart to tell him how easily we infiltrated their efficient security force and commandeered one of their vehicles," he said. "A damn sight easier than keeping tabs on you and your brother, my dear."
Agent Omega Seven put his hand over his mouth. Janniver sighed. "I shall do better next time, Alpha One," she said. "Granted that I am allowed to remain in Firewave."
Alpha One snorted. He waved his arm at her. "Oh, don't be so mousy. Both of you played your parts tremendously well. We have been trying to capture this Fremkop for months and you and your brother did it."
He turned to Krentox. "Better make yourself at home, my friend," he said. "You're going to be here for a long, long time."

The End

posted by Bill Lindau @ 5:03 PM