Sharon Green - Diana Santee 1 - Mind Guest

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Mind Guest

by Sharon Green

A Diana Santee Spaceways Novel

Chapter 1

Waking up began as a struggle, the sort you strain against with all

your strength and get absolutely nowhere with. I strained and

struggled and found nothing but fog to fight, but by the time I

reached the groaning stage the fog was beginning to lift. I became

aware of what I entailed, then felt the hum that touched deeply but

lightly in my bones. I knew the hum should mean something, but I was

still too deep in the fog to know what.

It took a lot of effort to turn to my left side and open my eyes, and

I couldn't remember why the effort was necessary. All I saw was a

small room, plain metal walls, built-in drawers, and nothing else.

All behind a thin but unbreakable mesh of monostrand, the sort used m

spaceships to protect sleepers from the sudden loss of gravity.

Spaceship.

I had to be on a ship, but where was I going? Was the assignment

finished already? Assignment. What assignment? What the hell was

going on? I put a hand to my head as if that would stop the spasms

going on inside it, but there was still too much fog. Raising my arm

seemed to be a signal for the fog to close in again, and that turned

the switch off on my struggling.

The next time my eyes opened, the fog was all gone. I saw the top of

the bunk section, the monostrand safety net closing the only open

side, felt the throb that meant live but unfiring engines. I was in a

ship, all right, but this time I knew all about it. The assignment

I'd been so worried over even when I didn't remember anything about

it hadn't been finished, not unless you count getting grabbed as

finishing it. I'd walked right into Radman's waiting arms, just as if

I were responding to an invitation he'd sent out. I sat up carefully

on the bunk, trying not to bash my thick head on the metal above,

disgusted with myself and impatient with the dizziness the last of

the drug caused. Radman had used cryosol, and there was no knowing

how long it had kept me under.

I ran my hands through my tangled hair as I sat cross-legged, giving

myself a couple of minutes to take inventory before pressing on to

the harder job of getting out of the bunk. My entire body felt heavy

and without strength, probably a combination reaction from the drug

and the length of time I'd been unconscious, but I didn't hurt

anymore. My clothes were long gone, cut away at Radman's direction

while he stood and grinned and drooled, and naturally not replaced.

He'd pretended to be delighted that it was a female Special Agent who

had been sent after him, but his delight had switched to panic when

one of his men had gotten careless enough to let me almost get one

leg free. 'There were only five of them there besides Radman himself,

and those aren't very comfortable odds against a hyper-A. The

nickname means High Percentage Risk Agent and isn't handed out to

every male with big muscles or every female with a pretty smile.

Radman had never heard the nickname, but he didn't have to. He'd

heard about Special Agents, and believed enough of what he'd heard to

be very, very careful.

I unhooked the monostrand mesh and swung my legs over the side of the

bunk, then stood up. I was feeling steadier than I thought I would,

but a couple of twinges flashed here and there, an unpleasant tail-

end reminder of Radman's reaction to my "attempted escape." After I'd

been chained with no more than a single link's space between wrists

and ankles, Radman had spent some time kicking me around-literally.

Experience had probably taught him how much pain he could give

without actually breaking anything important, and he'd put that

knowledge to work. By the time he'd worked off the heavy sweat he'd

felt at the thought of my getting loose I was sure he'd cracked a

couple of ribs at the very least, but I'd been wrong. Nothing had

scraped together inside when a couple of Radman's men had carried me

to a metal-framed cot and had shifted the chains on me to create the

ever-popular spread-eagled look. Radman had gotten hot from the fun

he'd had knocking' me around, and wanted to spend some time working

that off. I have a high pain threshold, but happily not that high; it

didn't take long before his second-stage battering put me out. Which

was a damned good thing. If I'd still been conscious when it came

time for him to let rip I would have spit in his face, and I'd been

in no shape to stand what would have come from that little gesture.

The small cabin opened onto a somewhat larger common room, from which

it was possible to reach the rest of the ship. All the lights were

set at daylight normal, but I ignored the brightness in the common

room the way I had in the cabin and made my way to the tiny galley. I

took a long drink of water while the ship thawed and heated a

synthegg sandwich for me, then sat and ate it while a second was

being done. Cryosol slows your bodily processes while it keeps you

unconscious, but that just means you won't starve to death before you

wake up. It doesn't mean you can afford to forget to grab at least a

quick bite once you're up and around again, despite the fact that

you're not feeling very hungry. People have been known to die from

the oversight, and it would have been rude of me to die so quickly

and thereby spoil all of Radman's carefully laid plans.

When the second sandwich was ready I took it with me to the control

room. Radman had had a lot of fun telling me all about what he

intended doing, but even knowing what to expect didn't stop the

flutter of panic I felt at sight of all that red on the pilot's

console. Most pilots equate blinking red with the pumping of

lifeblood out of a major artery, and I was no different. It took an

effort to keep from running closer and quickly slapping switches, but

since I knew how useless slapping switches would be I could walk

forward slowly until I stood behind the pilot's chair.

The acceleration and deceleration switches had been cut off flush

with the console, giving the check-off computer hysterics, and the

emergency rocket toggle was also gone. The life-support system,

meteor deflectors, view screens and communicator were still on the

green, but that meant nothing. Radman had preset the view from the

forward view screen, and the location computer was running a

continuous "no information" blank tape, showing that I'd left human-

inhabited space long behind me. Just for the hell of it I checked the

number of inches of blank tape, multiplied by the standard rounded

figure supplied in the front of every ephemeris, then took a long,

slow bite of my sandwich. At the time of calculation I'd already been

in an area of space that would not be explored for a minimum of two

hundred standard years, with each second passing sending me farther

and farther away. I'd be able to watch where I was going, Radman had

said, live comfortably and eat well while I thought about ways of

coming back, but there'd be no coming back. By going after him I'd

earned a free, unending vacation trip, and he was going to see that I

got what I'd earned. I could still hear his heavy, brutal laughter as

the cryosol was hype-sprayed into my bloodstream, and I looked down

to see that I'd unconsciously crushed the sandwich to slop in one

hand. I turned and left the control room then, and went to get a cup

of coffee and another sandwich.

I set up a loose schedule for living in the days that followed, but

still spent a lot of time reviewing and re-reviewing the moves I'd

made in going after Radman. I'd expected to see what I'd done wrong

rather quickly, but time passed and as far as I could see I hadn't

done anything wrong. Nothing I'd done would have told Radman I was

coming after him, but I'd still found him waiting for me. I usually

had to go heavy on the exercising after coming to that conclusion,

even though I knew intense rage was a waste of time and energy. The

position I'd been forced into wasn't contusive to sane calm and

logical thinking.

I must have been about two months on my way to nowhere when I finally

decided I'd had enough of sitting around and doing nothing. Aside

from the fact that there wasn't much I could do, most of my

hesitation had come from that terrible human disease called wishful

thinking. Being fully adult and more realistic than most hadn't

stopped me from hoping that Starman Courageous and his loyal crew

would somehow stumble across me, save me from the fate worse than

death that had been imposed on me, and quickly return me to hearth

and home. It took me that two months to admit that I was the proud

possessor of a fate worse than death, and that Starman Courageous,

every broad-shouldered and wide-chested inch of him, was too busy

saving slender helpless female types on tri-v to show up. If anything

was going to he done, I was the one who would have to do it.

I took one last cigarette with my feet propped up, grabbed a quick

shower, then found an adjusting tool and headed for the c6ntrol room.

I knew almost nothing about transbar electronics, but I was faced

with the choice of tinkering and possibly killing myself fast, or

leaving it alone and continuing on until I went crazy. Being a loner

I hadn't found the two months totally unbearable, but two months

wasn't two years or twenty. If I didn't do something, I was sealed

into what would eventually become my tomb, and sitting around waiting

for the inevitable wasn't my usual style.

The controls had been damaged at the pilot's console, which is

usually a pretty permanent way of damaging them, but there was one

remote chance. The transbar leads were tucked away in a box of their

own, and if I could figure out which leads controlled what, I might

be able to bypass the console. Only I was not an electrical engineer.

My talents lie in other directions, and I've piloted many ships, but

never had to fix any of them. I opened the panel that covered the

leads, groaned at the nine million different colored wires, then took

a deep breath and got started.

I'd found the leads that controlled the shower, the lights, and a

dozen and a half unknown functions before it happened. I was

tightening the last lead I'd loosened when the adjusting tool

slipped, knocking out a lead in the unexplored section. The loose

lead swung down and to the left, 'toward the bottom contact, but

fouled on another lead instead. There was a spray of pretty blue

sparks for about three seconds, then silence. I wondered if I'd done

anything serious, only to notice the new flashing red light on the

control console. I closed my eyes for a minute then went to see what

it was. It turned out to be nothing much - the new blinking red light

was for the life support system.

After I carefully tossed the adjusting tool away, I sat down in the

pilot's seat. I would have done better using spit and baling wire on

the control console, the way Starman Courageous would have, but it

might have taken me another two standard months to kill myself with

spit and baling wire. Why waste the time?

Then my eyes fell on the forward viewscreen, and I stared hard. I

hadn't bothered checking it for weeks, but I should have taken a peek

before starting on the transbar leads - it would have saved some

trouble. The ship had blundered into the middle of a star system,

cutting across the orbital path of at least one of the planets. I

could tell this easily by the sight of the good-sized moon I was

heading for, but I couldn't tell by eye whether or not I'd hit it. My

hand went toward the computer outlet automatically, but I pulled it

back before asking for the data. If the ship was going to hit, it

would hit. There was nothing I could do about it one way or the

other, and if I hit I wouldn't have to worry about the new ringing in

my ears. My tinkering with the transbar leads had done something to

the air pressure, and I hadn't the faintest idea of how to undo it. I

sat back in ~e seat and simply watched the moon.

Six hours later, I was a lot closer to the moon and a lot closer to

upchucking. The on-again, off-again ringing in my ears was making me

dizzy and nauseated, but I stayed near the viewscreen to see what was

happening. Then, suddenly, the proximity alarm went off, almost

sending me straight up through the hull. Where the hell would another

ship be coming from way out there? Nothing showed in the forward

viewscreen, and I was about to activate the others when the ringing

got deeper and closer to my head. I hesitated a minute, trying to

fight the lowering air pressure, but it was no good. I didn't touch

the transbar leads, but the lights went out anyway.

Chapter 2

Waking up was downright luxurious. I was lying belly down and I

stretched in comfort and yawned, wondering why the bunk felt so soft,

then groaned when I realized it was probably a malfunction in the

gravity control. I buried my face in the softness, knowing damned

well that there was almost nothing I could do about it, then lay very

still. The gentle fragrance coming from what I was lying on was

nothing like the paper bed linen I'd used so long, and it was also

nothing like anything I'd ever encountered before. There was dark all

around me, the familiar dark I always slept in, but even in the dark

there was something different about my surroundings.

I moved my fingers over whatever it was I was lying on, getting the

impression of a soft and very rich-feeling fur. There was no pillow

under my face, just the fur, and stretching my arms out limited the

size of the fur whatever to little more than the width of a double

bed was closer to the edge on the right, so I hung my right arm over

it and found that the floor was no more than twelve inches below me -

and also covered with what felt like fur. None of what was happening

made any sense: was I dreaming or just plain crazy?

I shifted over onto my back, in the process making another unsettling

discovery. I knew I had no clothes on, but I'd had the impression

that I was covered with something like a light blanket. Now I could

feel there was a warmth on me, from shoulder height down to past my

toes, but the warmth wasn't coming from anything as banal as a cover.

All at once I began feeling annoyed, knowing damned well that by

rights I ought to be scared stiff, but the whole thing was too stupid

to be scary. When someone puts you in the dark to terrify you, they

don't give you fur to lie on, and they don't make sure you're snuggly

warm. I brushed my loose hair away from my face and made up my mind,

then sat up slowly, holding one hand above my head to see if there

was anything over me.

As soon as I was sitting straight, there was no longer any need to

hold my hand up. A light had begun glowing from somewhere, starting

very faint and low, then brightening to a good level. I took a deep

breath and let it out slowly, fairly sure - or at least hoping - that

there was a photocell or some equivalent involved.

The room that had just come to view was no more than twelve by

twelve, having very few things in it. There was a small round

metallic shape next to the bed-couch I was lying on, an amorphous

blob that might have been a chair, and nothing else. I looked down at

the bed-couch under me, expecting to see fur, but saw nothing but

cloth. Granted, it was a silvery-gray cloth that looked better than

any other cloth I'd ever seen, but it was still just cloth. The

couch-bed was a low platform, an eight-foot by seven foot oblong,

raised slightly at the end that was against the wall, and seemingly

upholstered. I shifted around a little, noticing that the warmth I'd

felt earlier was fading, then decided to ask the major question:

where the hell could I possibly be? It was fairly obvious that the

proximity alarm bad meant another ship, but where had they come from,

and who were they? And while I was listing interesting questions, it

would be smart to include, why? Someone had gone to more than a

little trouble intercepting my ship, had managed to pull me out of it

alive - and then had neatly tucked me into beddy-bye before

disappearing from view. I'm normally grateful for any help I get in

saving my neck, but I'd learned to be skeptical as well.

The warmth was entirely gone, so I put my feet out to the fur-cloth

floor and stood up, looking around again. The floor-fur was a deep

green, setting off the light salmon-colored wall panels, the panels

themselves being very plain. Each three-foot section of wall was

separated from the others by a panel line, and there must have been a

door there somewhere, but I couldn't spot it just then. I also saw no

window - which didn't mean there weren't any - but the far wall had

something square on it. I moved closer, trying to figure out what the

square might be. It was a light, slightly flickering gold in color,

and could have been anything from an observation screen or window to

an example of the art of tomorrow. I felt the urge to touch it, but

pulled back suddenly. I was old enough to know better than to touch

strange, unexplained objects; I'd had enough of waking up in odd

places for a while.

"I see you've taken it upon yourself to leave your bed," an annoyed

male voice said from behind me. "Are you sure you're feeling well

enough?"

The unexpectedness of the voice startled me, that and the fact it was

using an unknown language that I somehow understood perfectly. I

turned slowly and took the time to prepare myself for whatever might

be standing behind me, but the whole thing was a giant let-down. The

only thing standing behind me, well to the right, was a mild-looking

little man, round-cheeked and slightly pot-bellied, wearing a dark

gold, one-piece outfit that could have been a uniform. The outfit had

patches here and there, supporting the uniform theory, and the little

man wasn't looking at all pleased with me. The entire scene had a

very unreal quality to it, as if it would all turn out to be

someone's idea of a practical joke, but I dismissed that thought fast

and smiled my friendliest smile.

"How sweet of you to be concerned about me," I purred, moving a step

or two closer to him. "I'm feeling just fine now, and I'll bet I have

you to thank for it. I can see in your eyes that you're a very-

special-sort of man.

His blue eyes didn't get any darker, but his chest swelled and his

face settled into a prissy look of satisfaction.

"I did very little more than see to your comfort, my dear," he said

smoothly. "And yet you may rest assured that had anything been

seriously wrong with you, I would have seen to it to the best of my

ability. We're rather isolated out here, but our medical facilities

can't be bettered anywhere."

I let my smile warm slightly, mainly to cover the fact that I was

still moving slowly toward him, and said, "I knew I was right about

you, but I'm just a little confused. You mentioned your medical

facilities here, but you didn't say where 'here' was. Can you tell me

where I am?"

The satisfaction shifted to a frown, and the little man peered at me.

"This is an observation outpost of our Absari Confederacy," he

answered sharply. "The planet is called Tildor by its natives. Hadn't

you any idea you were in our neighborhood? The area happens to be

proscribed."

I stopped where I was, about five feet from my visitor, determined

not to show how off balance I suddenly was. Not only hadn't I known

that the area was proscribed, I'd never even heard of proscribed

areas, not to mention something called the "Absari Confederacy."

Things were back to being unreal again, but there was one thing I

knew for a rock-hard fact: if my Federation had ever had contact with

an Absari Confederacy, I would have heard about it. My not having

heard about them meant we'd never contacted them, and I was back to

wandering in the dark, searching for a candle.

The little man was still watching me closely, so I decided to use

some of the confusion I felt to my own advantage.

"I must have gone farther astray than I thought," I breathed weakly,

putting my hand to my head. "I haven't the faintest idea of how I got

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摘要：

MindGuestbySharonGreenADianaSanteeSpacewaysNovelChapter1Wakingupbeganasastruggle,thesortyoustrainagainstwithallyourstrengthandgetabsolutelynowherewith.Istrainedandstruggledandfoundnothingbutfogtofight,butbythetimeIreachedthegroaningstagethefogwasbeginningtolift.IbecameawareofwhatIentailed,thenfeltth...

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Sharon Green - Diana Santee 1 - Mind Guest

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