George Martin - Tuf Voyaging

“You senile old fool,” said Kaj Nevis. “I ought to kill you right now, and save a little air for the rest of us.”

“We’re dead,” wailed Celise Waan, “we’re dead, dead, dead.”

“Madam,” said Haviland Tuf, petting Mushroom, “you continue to be premature. You are no more deceased now than you were wealthy a short time ago.”

Nevis turned to face him. “Oh? You have an idea, Tuf?”

“Indeed,” said Haviland Tuf.

“Well?” prompted Nevis.

“The Ark is our only salvation,” Tuf said. “We must board her. Without Jefri Lion’s code crystal, we cannot move the Cornucopia of Excellent Goods at Low Prices closer for a docking, for fear of being fired upon once again. This much is obvious. Yet an interesting concept has occurred to me.” He raised a finger. “Perhaps the Ark might display less hostility toward a smaller target—a man in a pressure suit, say, propelled by air jets!”

Kaj Nevis looked thoughtful. “And when this man reaches the Ark , what then? Is he supposed to knock on the hull?”

“Impractical,” admitted Haviland Tuf, “and yet I believe I have a method of dealing with this problem as well.”

They waited. Tuf stroked Mushroom. “Go on,” Kaj Nevis said impatiently.

Tuf blinked. “Go on? Indeed. I fear I must beg your indulgence. My mind is most distracted. My poor ship has suffered grievous harm. My modest livelihood lies ruined and devastated, and who will pay for the necessary repairs? Will Kaj Nevis, soon to enjoy such wealth, shower me with largesse? I fear not. Will Jefri Lion and Anittas buy for me a new ship? Unlikely. Will the esteemed Celise Waan grant me a bonus above and beyond my fee to compensate for my great loss? She has already promised to seek legal redress against me, to have my poor vessel confiscated and my landing license revoked. How then am I to cope? Who will succor me?”

“Never mind about that!” Kaj Nevis said. “How do we get inside the Ark? You said you had a way!”

“Did I?” said Haviland Tuf. “I believe you are correct, sir. Yet I fear the weight of my woes has driven the concept from my poor, distracted mind. I have forgotten it. I can think of nothing but my sorry economic plight.”

Rica Dawnstar laughed, and clapped Tuf soundly across his broad back.

He looked up at her. “And now I am roughly pummeled and beaten as well, by the fierce Rica Dawnstar. Please do not touch me, madam.”

“This is blackmail,” screeched Celise Waan. “We’ll have you put in prison for this!”

“And now my integrity is impugned, and I am showered with threats. Is it any wonder I cannot think, Mushroom?”

Kaj Nevis snarled. “All right, Tuf. You win.” He looked around. “Do I hear any objections to making Tuffy here a full partner? A five-way split?”

Jefri Lion cleared his throat. “He deserves at least that, if his plan works.”

Nevis nodded. “You’re in, Tuf.”

Haviland Tuf rose with immense, ponderous dignity, brushing Mushroom from his lap. “My memory returns to me!” he announced. “There are four pressure suits in the locker, yonder. If one of you would be so kind as to don one and render me your aid, together we shall go to procure a most useful piece of equipment from storage compartment twelve.”

“What the hell,” Rica Dawnstar exclaimed when they came back, carrying their booty between them. She laughed.

“What is it?” demanded Celise Waan.

Haviland Tuf, who loomed large in his silver-blue pressure suit, lowered the legs to the ground and helped Kaj Nevis get it upright. Then he removed his helmet and inspected their prize with satisfaction. “It is a space-suit, madam,” he said. “I would think that obvious.”

It was a spacesuit, of sorts, but it was like no suit any of them had ever seen before, and clearly, whoever had constructed it had not had humans in mind. It towered over all of them, even Tuf; the ornate crest on the great beetling helmet was a good three meters off the deck, and almost brushed the top of the bulkhead. There were four thick double-jointed arms, the bottom two ending in gleaming, serrated pincers; the legs were broad enough to contain the trunks of small trees, and the footpads were great circular saucers. On the broad, hunched back were mounted four huge tanks; a radar antenna sprang from the right shoulder; and everywhere the rigid black metal of which it was constructed was filigreed in strange swirling patterns of red and gold. It stood among them like an armored giant of old.

Kaj Nevis jerked a thumb at the armor. “It’s here,” he said. “So what? How will this monstrosity help us?” He shook his head. “It looks like a piece of junk to me.”

“Please,” said Tuf. “This mechanism, which you so disparage, is an antique rich with history. I acquired this fascinating alien artifact, at no small cost to myself, on Unqi when I passed through that sector. This is a genuine Unquin battlesuit, sir, represented to be of the Hameriin dynasty, which fell some fifteen hundred years ago, long before humanity reached the Unquish stars. It has been fully restored.”

“What does it do , Tuf?” asked Rica Dawnstar, always quick to come to the point.

Tuf blinked. “Its capabilities are many and varied. Two strike closest to home in regard to our present quandry. It has an augmented exoskeleton, and when fully charged will magnify the inherent strength of its occupant by a power of ten, approximately. Furthermore, its equipment includes a most excellent cutting laser, engineered to slice through duralloy of a thickness of one-half meter, or of plate steel of significantly greater thickness, when directly applied at zero range. In brief, this ancient battlesuit will be our means of entry into the ancient warship that looms as our only salvation.”

“Splendid!” said Jefri Lion, clapping his hands together in approval.

“It might work at that,” Kaj Nevis commented. “What’s the drill?”

“I must admit to some deficiency of equipment for deep space maneuvering,” Tuf replied. “Our resources include four standard pressure suits, but only two jetpacs. The Unquin battlesuit, I am pleased to report, has its own propulsion vents. I propose the following plan. I will don the battlesuit and make egress from the Cornucopia of Excellent Goods at Low Prices , accompanied by Rica Dawnstar and Anittas in pressure suits and jetpacs. We will proceed to the Ark with all due speed. If we make the journey safely, we will use the battlesuit’s most excellent capabilities to gain entrance through an airlock. I am told that Anittas is expert in ancient cybernetic systems and obsolete computers. Very well, then. Once inside, he will no doubt have little trouble gaining control of the Ark and will supersede the hostile programming now in place. At that point, Kaj Nevis will be able to pilot my crippled ship in for a docking, and all of us will have attained safety.”

Celise Waan turned a vivid shade of red. “You’re leaving us to die!” she screeched. “Nevis, Lion, we must stop them! Once they’re on the Ark , they’ll blow us up! We can’t trust them.”

Haviland Tuf blinked. “Why must my morality be constantly assaulted by these accusations?” he asked. “I am a man of honor. The course of action you have suggested had never crossed my mind.”

“It’s a good plan,” said Kaj Nevis. He smiled, and began to unseal his pressure suit. “Anittas, hireling, suit up.”

“Are you going to let them abandon us here?” Celise Waan demanded of Jefri Lion.

“I’m sure they mean us no harm,” Lion said, tugging on his beard, “and if they did, Celise, how do you propose I stop them?”