Ivan Cat - The Burning Heart of Night

"Oh no you don't. I've spent a lot of time watching you, getting to know you, Lindal. I know how you think, what you think of them. I read it in your personal logs."

Karr flushed red. This mission from Sheldon's World to Evermore had been cursed, even before the stowaway began to murder Karr's cargo. Karr had put in at Sheldon's World to resupply Long Reach for the next tour. Long Reach's dreamchamber should have been refilled with twelve thousand dreamers, and six large seed-colony containers should have been strapped around its mid-section, each one stocked with the supplies and equipment necessary to found a new colony world on a new, virgin planet that had not occurred. Imminent collision with a freak swarm of comets was about to wipe out all life on Sheldon's World. Therefore, the planet's political elite had packed themselves into Long Reach's dreamchamber for evacuation to Evermore.

Karr had protested. It was a violation of Karr's sacred duty, to find and seed new human colonies throughout the galaxy. As a Pilot, Karr was not allowed to weep for failed colonies. The death and suffering bothered a deep, buried part of Karr, but consciously he could not allow himself to think about such sorrows. That would only lead to the misuse of his precious Long Reach ? as was the case on the present mission. No one knew how long fugueships lived, but a twenty year trip to Evermore was a significant chunk of realtime, considering that there were only three fugueships in all of human space and no way to replace them. To make matters worse, Long Reach's dreamchamber was not even full.

Sheldon's World politics forbid intermingling elite and lower classes. Short of abandoning everyone on Sheldon's World and flying empty to Evermore? an even greater misuse of Long Reach ? Karr had no control over who was or was not loaded into it. So Long Reach had left Sheldon's World with its dreamchamber less than half full. That was why Karr had written vengeful words in his personal logs, but

it was only to vent his frustration. He didn't love his present cargo of dreamers, but he didn't literally want them dead. In fact, it was his duty to keep them alive.

"They tricked you," The stowaway was writing. "You're an honorable man. Good thing I can't be tricked."

"Listen, 'Angel' ? "

The stowaway snatched the mindercard. "Call me Bob. We're friends, remember?"

Friends. Foodyeast must be getting to the interloper's brain. Cursing inwardly, Karr decided he had better humor the psychotic killer. "Sure, Bob." Karr tried a different tack. "What happens when we get to Evermore? The authorities won't be very happy with you."

"Don't worry. I'm taking steps."

Karr didn't like the sound of that. "What sort of steps, Bob?"

"You write too slow," Bob scrawled, not answering the question. "Can't you write faster?"

More quickfood wrappers appeared on the deck, reminding Karr that in the two or three fuguetime minutes of their correspondence, Bob had been trapped in the dreamchamber close to half a slowtime day. He must be getting tired. If Karr could keep him answering questions, maybe Bob would make a mistake and stay in one spot too long. Karr took his time with his next words. "Bob, I'm upset. You read my personal logs. Friends aren't supposed to do things like that."

Bob took the bait. "I'm very sorry about that, really, very sorry. But it's so BORING on this ship.

You know what I mean. ..."

Karr most certainly did not know what Bob meant. Karr loved his job and his ship, and it was encounters like this which reassured him that a life with minimal contact with other human beings was a good life, even if it was a bit lonely at times. Karr forced a smile and let Bob prattle on for a while.

Bob began to coalesce.

Karr felt for his Gattler. It was slung over his shoulder, with its barrels pointing down, set to fire qi needles. All he had to do was yank the Gattler up and autofire in Bob's general direction. While it was not specifically designed as a weapon, Karr figured that a volley of six-inch steel needles would immobilize Bob long enough for Karr to subdue him.

Bob kept apologizing. "It was so easy. At night I could just walk into your quarters and do anything I wanted. It's a good thing we're friends, Lindal." There was an ominous pause. " I looked through your stuff. I even tried on your clothes, but they don't fit."

Bob had been in the same position for a long time and he was still writing. Karr's finger closed on the Gattler's trigger. He should have fired right away, but morbid curiosity stopped him as the image of Bob unfolded. Bob was a sorry angel. His limbs were gaunt, muscles atrophied from too much time in low gravity without a ghimpsuit. Ribs showed under pasty skin. Bob's hands were blurred from writing, but his head was more distinct. Fishy, malignant eyes bulged over a hooked nose, withered mouth, and receding chin.

Bob's ghoulish monologue waxed sentimental. "You look so peaceful when you sleep. I always tuck you in if you toss your blankets off. Four months is a long time to sleep without blankets, don't you think?"

The idea of Bob prancing around Karr's quarters, wearing Karr's clothes? tucking Karr in!? alarmed Karr in the extreme. Never again would he get a wink of sleep until this maniac was locked up tight.

Karr yanked the Gattler up as fast as he could and squeezed off a volley of shots. Bap, bap, bap, bap, bap! Bob streaked away. The mindercard hit the deck. Karr held his breath. Had he hit?

No.

The Gattler abruptly ripped out of Karr's hands and disappeared. An angry gnat screeched around his head and the same force that had hurled him away from the airlock earlier now hoisted Karr into the air.

Blink? WHAMM! Like a jump cut in a video recording, Karr instantaneously smashed into a wall five yards away. Blink ? SLAMM! Invisible force ground Karr into the deck. Blink ? CRUNCH! Karr hammered into a dream capsule, sudden fire in his ribs. Blink ? CRACK! Welts raised under Karr's ghimpsuit. Blink? WHACK! Karr was in the air, falling. Then colliding. Tumbling. The violent montage escalated. Karr's mind fogged over with pain. His body was a rag doll in a tornado, waiting for a killing blow. Would it come in the heart or in the head, Karr wondered numbly? No, in the back. That was the kind of guy Bob was, a backstabber.

But no mortal blow came. Blink. Karr was on the deck. The angry buzzing went away. Blip. The mindercard reappeared in Karr's hand.

"That wasn't very nice, Lindal. Not very nice at all. I didn't want to do that, but you made me.

Don't make me do that again. Don't make me do something I'll regret." There was a pause. When Bob resumed writing, the tone of his words changed with no apparent logic; Karr reminded himself that the schizophrenic switch was actually occurring over many slowtime minutes. "You've been a bad boy, Lindal. I should punish you, but I forgive you. Know why? Because I love you. So much that it hurts. That's why I forgive you. Love. It's a special thing. Don't you think? I'm tired now. I'm going to take a nap."

The motion blurs disappeared. Karr did not waste any time cooling off, but hauled his bruised body erect and hurried around the dreamchamber, scrambling over girder-ribs and around capsules in search of Bob. Sleeping humans didn't move much; all Karr had to do was find Bob. Karr searched furiously for three minutes, but then the mindercard called attention to itself again.