Jack Chalker - Cerberus - A Wolf in the Fold

I did finally realize what Dylan was doing, though. She was doing her job—pulling the bork further and further away from the skrit that had to be commercially harvested. All I could do was admire her skill, timing, and guts. I recall thinking, And they have charter boats for people to do this for fun?

How far away had she pulled it? I began to wonder. Possibly several kilometers. But while it was clear to me that we were faster in the long run than the bork, we didn’t have the ordnance to kill the monstrosity alone. For all that we were doing, we were hitting nonvital parts.

Suddenly, after all this cat-and-mouse stuff, Dylan gunned the engine and we sped up and away from the monster, this time not firing. I wondered if she was going to break off. Then suddenly she made a steep turn, and in that turn I could see another boat like ours—Karel certainly—making a similar turn toward the great beast, which, because it hadn’t been shot at the last time had not done its fantastic quick vanishing act.

It had in fact seen the other boat and ours turn and was standing its ground, confident of itself despite all the harm we’d done to it.

We started closing fast—so fast I was afraid we were going to crash right into the thing. Mentally I could see only one of those great bony tentacles crashing down into us, bringing oblivion in the deeps. But as the thing made ready for its swipes I heard four sharp pops from each side of the boat, and we suddenly made a turn so sharp it seemed certain to capsize us. The turn put the aft lounge in full view of the thing, and it seemed that the world was full of nothing but the most disgusting gullet imaginable.

Suddenly the sea behind us erupted in a tremendous series of blasts, tearing into the monster, which roared its terrible defiance. We could see the second boat launch its own torpedoes, the nice kind that went by air or water and did what you told them to do.

I saw two literally jump out of the water and go right down the monster’s throat!

Already we had some distance on the thing, which still looked like a floating city. Suddenly, though, it was ripped by two tremendous explosions and seemed almost to fly apart, bits and pieces several meters long of bloody skin, bone, and tentacle flying every which way, some almost far enough to reach our boat. At that moment I saw Karel’s boat appear off to our side, though quite a bit astern, and heard above the death throes of the monster a foghornlike signal which we answered. Confirmed kill.

You could hear the yells and cheers from the men and women on our boat, too—and maybe even a little from Sanda and me.

Sanda seemed, to collapse, then shook her head in wonder. “Wow! I read all the books, heard all the stories, saw all the roomvision specials, but nothing was ever like this! Compared to this, what we did for you was a piece of cake!” She paused and looked at me oddly. “You all right?”

“I think I wet my pants,” I croaked.

A bit later I managed to get hold of myself, clean up, and go forward to see Dylan. This trip had been an education for me, all right, and one I would remember until my death. I had discovered that I could be that scared, and I also finally realized that Dylan not only did this every day but did it routinely, as a matter of course. I had a new, almost awed respect for her courage now. If there was anybody I ever dreamed of wanting at my back, it was definitely Dylan Kohl.

The rest of the day, such as it was, was uneventful. No more borks—although we had one sighting—and no more chases. Just playing shepherd to the fleet of trawlers hauling in the rich, reddish skrit. It was a boring afternoon, and I loved every boring minute of it. The efficient trawlers were quick about their work, reaching capacity in less thin two hours. Together, we and the fleet headed for home.

My emotions were more mixed now than they had been earlier. As much admiration as I had for Dylan and the others who did this day in and day out, this sort of tension had to take its toll on all of them. If anything, I had underestimated the danger of the job. I was going to be worried more and more about her as I replayed this experience in my mind again and again.

We reached the harbor uneventfully and settled down into the water, pulling smoothly to the dock. Dylan supervised the securing of the mooring Hnes to the boat and then came back to see us. “Better wait until dark before getting off,” she cautioned Sanda. “That way nobody’s going to be sure if you went with us or came on after.”

She nodded, and I stood up. “I hope you’ll excuse me for not staying as well, but I have to put my foot on dry, solid wood or something or I’ll go nuts.” My whole body felt as if it were permanently vibrating.

Sanda rose and gave Dylan a big hug and kiss. “Oh, I love you for this! By God, I’m gonna beat the motherhood if it kills mel”

Dylan looked at me. “See?”

I nodded understandingly and took off, heading for the gangplank and dock. I had no sooner walked out than I stopped dead in my tracks. Two unfamiliar people were standing there at the end of the gangplank, and they had the look that seems universal for their kind anywhere in the galaxy. I felt a sinking sensation in my stomach and tensed up as bad as I had during the bork hunt.

The two, a man and a woman, walked on board and stopped, looking at me. One flashed a badge and said softly, “CID. I caution you to remain where you are and not make a sound.” He nodded to the woman, who walked aft to the lounge, then in the door.

“After you,” said the male cop. I turned, and walked back into the lounge with him.

The two women were both there, having mistaken the woman’s approach for my return.

“Which of you is Captain Kohl?” the female cop asked.

“I am!” Sanda spoke up bravely.

“No, I am,” responded Dylan, looking then at Sanda with a sadness in her eyes and voice. “It’s no good. They’ll have to scan us both anyway.”

“Look,” I said, trying to sound indignant, “I’m the president of this company. What seems to be the trouble, officers?”

“Captain Kohl is charged with willfully violating Section 623 Vi, Universal Penal Code,” the man responded. Knowingly subjecting an individual classified as an asset to the state to extreme danger.”

“This is ridiculous!” I sputtered. “Both of these women work for me.”

“Stow it,” the woman snapped at me. “We know who the girl is.”

“I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you both to come down to the station with us,” the male cop added. Then, turning to me, he cautioned, “Please don’t interfere. The penalties are quite severe for that.”

“Can I go with them, then? I’m married to the captain.”

“I don’t see why not. But no funny business.”

“There won’t be,” I assured them, feeling that all was suddenly very wrong; that for once luck had run out—not on me, but on the one I cared for most. I would have loved to have pulled some funny business and wouldn’t have hesitated in the slightest to do so, but there seemed absolutely nothing I could do, funny or otherwise, except tag along.

On the way in, I cautioned both of them to say nothing. Dylan squeezed my hand and Sanda’s. “It’s all right,” she said simply. “I knew what I was doing, and I’m not sorry for it even now. Maybe it’s a fair exchange, although not one I’d have made willingly. I’ve had five years of living. Now maybe it’s somebody else’s turn.”

“Don’t talk like that!” I scolded her. “It’s not the end of the world.”

“It’s the end of my world,” she almost whispered.

Once in the stationhouse, in a corner of the Municipal Building, both women were taken into a small room where their card imprints and scans were taken. I was not able to follow, but simply had to pace back and forth in a small waiting area. Even the bork hunt paled before my feelings now, which were at an all-time low. After about half an hour, they let me see Dylan for a few minutes while they processed their records and did whatever cops did. Sanda was being held in a separate room, and I didn’t see her.