Glory Lane Read online

  Below lay the moonlit green foam of the national forest, and beyond, the gray shadows of the Sangre de Cristo mountains. Rail had the ship rotating slowly to insure that his instrumentation wouldn’t miss any commu­nications that might be disturbing the firmament in their vicinity. Oomemian conversation, for example.

  “Looks clear clean so far.”

  “What about our people?” Kerwin asked him. “Aren’t you worried about being picked up on local radar? Albu­querque’s a major FAA center, and there’s an important missile-testing facility in the southern part of the state.”

  Three eyes turned to him. “Such simple detection meth­ods are easily confused. I am concerned only about the Oomemians, whose devices can penetrate any cloaking field.”

  Seeth had moved to the far end of the window and was staring eagerly at the rapidly receding ground. “Wild.”

  Miranda looked up from her chair. “I don’t suppose at this point it would do me any good to ask you to drop me off by my house. I mean, it doesn’t have to be right by the driveway.”

  “Apologies regrets.” Rail ran two tentacletips down a gleaming silvery strip. “We cannot linger in this vicinity.”

  She sighed. “Somehow I knew that’s what you were going to say. I’ll bet there’s no FM where we’re going, either.”

  “You may be in for some surprises, young female woman. There is a great deal more variety in the universe than you or your people have ever dreamt of. One can find entertainments to suit just nearly about any taste.”

  “No kiddin’? Really?”

  “Straight,” he told her.

  She swung her legs around and sat on the edge of the lounge, fumbling through her commodious purse. “Maybe this won’t be such a bad trip after all. As for my parents, I guess I can bullshit them about where I’ve been. I’ve done it before. Hey, you want some gum?” She extended an open pack of Juicy Fruit toward their pilot.

  “No thank you not. I am familiar with the dreadful composition you refer to as ‘gum.’ Being an advanced race, our teeth are somewhat more delicate than yours. Attempting to masticate the substance you hold in your hand would result in severe orthodontal damage.”

  “Suit yourself.” She unwrapped a stick, shoved it in her mouth, and returned the rest to her purse. “I had a cousin like that. Had to have all false teeth put in when she turned twenty. Weird.” She began chewing noisily, then somewhat reluctantly removed the pack again and gestured at Seeth. “You want some?”

  “Me? Good gracious no! Being a member of a more primitive race I’m afraid I just can’t handle anything that strong.”

  “Wise ass.” She turned to Kerwin. “You?”

  “No thanks.” He didn’t turn from the curving port.

  “Oh, well. See if I offer you two anything again.”

  The ship accelerated, climbing out of atmosphere. Their velocity must have been phenomenal, but Kerwin had no sense of moving at high speed. The only indication that they were moving at all came from the slight vibration in the deck.

  They were at least a dozen miles up now. Off to the north you could see the lights of Albuquerque, and beyond, the smaller pockets of illumination that marked the loca­tions of Taos and Santa Fe. The surface sparkled with small towns that glowed like jewels against the quiet, dark Earth.

  “How fast can your ship go?”

  “You don’t want to know. I mean, it’s not the newest model but it moves good fast.”

  Miranda had slid off her lounge. “Where’s the ladies’ room on this thing?”

  “The hygienic facilities lie through the hall we entered by, first door on your right,” Rail told her. “I’m afraid you may find the design somewhat obscure, but if you will simply carry out the necessary functions, the equipment will compensate. It has been built to accommodate the needs of different species and will respond appropriately.”

  “Yeah, well, okay. It better.” She started toward the doorway. “I mean, it’s not like I have a choice, you know. A girl’s gotta go when a girl’s gotta go.”

  “So go already,” said Seeth. “What do you want from us, a testimonial?”

  “You—you’re just so, so crude!”

  He grinned disarmingly. “That’s my middle name, snugglebuns.” After she’d left, he looked up at Kenvin. “Know what I think? I think her IQ and your shoe size are about the same.”

  “Maybe so, but she’s got great...”

  As he tried to finish the sentence, the ship rose. Not slowly this time. It didn’t so much accelerate as lurch away from North America.

  “I thought it’d be prettier than this.” Seeth eyed the gleaming curvature of the globe and the gleaming, masked sun. “Looks just like a movie.”

  “Life’s a movie.”

  “Wow! I mean, that’s really profound, man. Can I use that?”

  “Morgleweez gluh norpsis,” said Izmir from his posi­tion near the ceiling.

  “If you’d read an occasional book,” Kerwin began, but again he didn’t get the chance to finish. This seemed to be his day for not finishing sentences.

  Everything Rail had told them about intertialess fields and not experiencing a feeling of motion was abruptly given the lie as his fingers raced over the strip controls and the ship rolled sharply to the left. The Earth spun like a pinwheel before vanishing entirely. Ahead now lay only a wildly contorting starfield, and once or twice an intense light that wiped out the view completely.

  Kerwin carefully picked himself off the floor and stum­bled over to an empty lounge, relaxing only when the restraining fields had locked him in place.

  “What’s the matter? What’s going on?”

  “Oomemians, of course. Damn darn it! I’d hoped the pair we encountered down below were the only ones pur­suing me, but it now appears that others have been waiting for them. Up here.” He leaned close over his console. “Two ships, at least. Masked and waiting for us. I should have anticipated even though I did not see. We’ll have to make a run for it.”

  Kerwin swallowed as his stomach tried to fly up into his throat. “Isn’t that what we’re doing?” Even as he spoke the ship whipped upside down, avoiding another bright light, and dove close by the south pole of Earth’s moon.

  “Here, you’ll see.” Rail nudged another strip. A holo­graphic projection of extraordinary complexity materialized in front of Kerwin’s chair. There was an identical projec­tion hovering in front of the lounge where Seeth had sought security.

  Within the three-dimensional bubble he could clearly make out one vessel racing away from two others. From time to time a near wash of energy would wipe out the contents of the bubble, but the projection never collapsed entirely. Nor did the projected craft on which he realized he and his companions were riding.

  “What are they shooting at us, anyway?”

  “Death. Not for Izmir, perhaps, but most surely for sure for us. We’ve got to get out of here.”

  “Here? Where’s here?” Kerwin looked around wildly. “Here’s no place!”

  “Exactly, and we’ve got to find someplace else. If I could but leave my position here I could try to defend us. There is a gun. We are not defenseless.”

  “A gun?” Seeth started bouncing around on his seat, making use of all the movement his restraining field would allow. “Where?”

  “A small energy weapon. It’s set in a bubble atop the ship.”

  “Go back to the hall and turn right?” The punk’s excitement was palpable.

  “No, that’s the bathroom. Keep going until you see a door on your left. It will lead to a narrow chute at the end of which you will find the gunner’s chair. Am I to assume you wish to try and make use of it?”

  “You are to assume, yeah, right. Lemme at it!”

  “The system will adapt itself to your requirements and—“

  “Never mind, man!” Seeth was already out of his chair, trying to maintain his balance. “I’ll work out the rest.” He started stumbling and staggering toward the hallway. Evidently, the ship’
s internal compensators were having a hard time dealing with the evasive gyrations Rail was putting the vessel through. As Seeth passed Kerwin he pulled a small switchblade from a pocket sewn to the right leg of his pants.

  “Here, man. If they board us, don’t let ‘em take you alive!” He continued out into the hall, bumping into Mi­randa as she emerged from the John. “No time now, babe. Maybe later.”

  For a change she didn’t snap back, just blinked at him and stumbled to her seat. She had a dazed look in her eyes.

  “Boy, that was strange.”

  Kerwin badly wanted to ask her why it was strange, but didn’t have half the courage. Besides which, deep down he wasn’t sure he really wanted to know. She kept talking anyway.

  “I mean, a friend of mine had a bidet in her bathroom, but that you could figure out.”

  The ship shuddered in a new way. “Ah,” said Rail, “your friend has found the gunner’s chair. I fear he is more enthusiastic than accurate, but perhaps his very unpredictability will confuse the Oomemians. They will rely on their gunnery computers to reply, and they will have difficulty because they will be unable to ascertain a pattern in our defense.”

  “That’s for damn sure,” Kerwin told him. “Hey, you mean Seeth’s actually firing the thing? And by the way, he’s not my friend. He’s a punk, a pest, and an antisocial freak.”

  “He’s also not hitting anything,” said Rail thought­fully, “but if naught else, he’s shooting a lot.”

  “Probably likes the noise. Me, I don’t like guns much.”

  “All that matters is that he delay them slightly to give us a little more time. The preparations for the slipspace slide are nearly complete.”

  “What’s slipspace?”

  “Where things move fast, young male Kerwin. A lot faster than they do in normal space. When we slide there, we’ll move fast too. We certainly can’t outrun the Oomemians in normal space. There’s just no place to hide in normal space, but in slipspace everything is distorted, including tracking devices. We should be able to lose them, if they don’t fry us first.”

  “So shut up and concentrate on sliding!”

  “It doesn’t matter if I talk. The process takes time and you can’t rush it. Sort of like basting a turkey with high-tech physics, is how I believe some of your people might put it. A quite normal if complicated business, rather like shifting from drive into low without destroying the trans­mission in the process.” He paused for a moment to address what must have been an intercom.

  “Do be careful cautious back there, Mr. Seeth. There is such a thing as overwhelming the safeties. That was our stem you nearly shot off a moment ago. I really don’t think it’s possible for you to do that, but a little more judgement on your part would be appreciated.”

  “Eehah! Yowie! Wahoo!” came the reply.

  Rail frowned, glanced back at Kerwin. “What means? I thought my English was perfect good.”

  “It’s fine. He’s the one who can’t talk. When he gets like that nobody can talk to him. He doesn’t really care if he does shoot the ship’s stern off. Probably would think it looked neat.”

  “Hey, slow down up there, Railman. You’re going so fast I can’t hit anybody.”

  “Just keep firing, Mr. Seeth, at anything but us. You’re doing fine as you are.”

  “I am, huh? Swell.” The ship shuddered as the energy weapon resumed rapid firing.

  “I guess we’re too far out to get KDK.W or like that, huh?” muttered Miranda. “I mean, I think I just saw Saturn or Uranus or one of those big gassy things go by on our right.”

  “I’m afraid the time delay would make reception impos­sible unreal at this distance.” The ship quivered. “Mr. Seeth?”

  “Hey, just Seeth, okay? I think I almost got ‘em that time!”

  “Keep it up going. You are doing well.” Rail looked back toward Kerwin and Miranda. “He is, you know. Your friend’s actions must strike the Oomemians as in­sane. He’s being very clever.”

  “Cleverness has nothing to do with it. He is insane.”

  Rail laughed, a light, stuttering whine. “Ah, you hu­mans and your sense of humor.” He turned back to his instruments. “Truly they want Izmir back very badly.”

  “If there’s anything you’ll be able to count on, it’s Seeth’s unpredictability.” What’s this, Kerwin thought, jealousy? What for? Seeth was probably pushing the firing buttons with his nose. He didn’t know what he was doing anymore than the Oomemians did, which, if Rail was to be believed, was the best possible reaction under the circum­stances.

  “Oh, damn!”

  Immediately, he turned in his chair to look back at Miranda. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” The ship was rattled by another near miss, and this time even Rail flinched.

  “I broke a nail. Can you believe that? After that rotten ride in the van and bashing through the woods without even stumbling, I sit on my hand and break a nail. I can tell you, I’ve about had it.”

  “Gee, I’m sorry. Maybe we should just stop, pull over and trade Izmir to the Oomemians in return for some nail glue.”

  She made a face and stuck her tongue out at him.

  “Ready set?”

  “Ready for what?” A disgusted Kerwin turned back to their pilot.

  “To slide to slipspace. It can be upsetting to first-timers. You might want to close your eyes, though that doesn’t really seem to make much difference.”

  “Whoa, wait a minute! Why doesn’t it...?”

  Rail’s right tentacle tips slid in unison down four thin metallic strips. When they reached bottom, the universe started to come apart. This included everything within Kerwin’s field of vision: space outside the viewport, Rail, the interior of the pilot’s chamber, Miranda, and, most disconcerting of all, his own body. His fingers appeared to be separating from his hand, his forearm from his elbow, his elbow from his shoulder, all in slow motion. Every­thing was drifting away from everything else—or maybe sliding was a more appropriate verb.

  There was no pain. Only a feeling of light-headedness combined with a slightly droopy feeling. Then something solid swam into view. It seemed strange that Izmir the Astarach could hold his shape. Oughtn’t he to be coming apart also? The single blue eye stared blankly at him. Then Izmir flattened himself into a sausage shape that was alive with tiny internal flares of energy. A moment later he drifted out of sight.

  “Hey.” To Kerwin, his own voice sounded as if he were speaking through glue. “How long does this go on?”

  Rail sounded equally lugubrious, though much more relaxed. Apparently everything was working properly, though how their pilot could tell with his instrumentation drifting all around the room, Kerwin couldn’t imagine.

  “It should be over soon. When we stop sliding we will emerge in a different section of space. I hope it will be the one I aimed for. I hope also we will not have company. Between my well-practiced evasive tactics and your friend’s undisciplined but relentless defensive fire, we may have prevented them from placing a lock on us before we slid. Ah.”

  Kerwin’s hand recovered its five errant digits. His stroll­ing arms and legs reattached themselves to his torso. Something seemed to snap and he felt himself tumbling forward. The restraining fields held him tight and kept him from becoming an ornament on the interior of the port.

  Then he found himself blinking. Everything looked nor­mal again; the ship’s interior, Miranda, himself. A voice made him turn moments later. Seeth was stumbling back into the room.

  “Wow. Could you do that again? Talk about heavy hitting!”

  “I could, but the need is not there.” Rail was studying his console. “I think we succeeded in sliding clear of our friends.”

  “Aw, c’mon, man. You gotta do that again. That was great! I haven’t had a high like that in months!”

  Kerwin was breathing hard while his stomach was slowly settling itself. “You enjoyed sliding?”

  “Is that what it’s called? Felt more like flying to me. I mean, yo
u talk about your out-of-body experiences.” He glanced over at Miranda. “How ‘bout you, sweetface?”

  “It was okay. Nothing super. At least it was something different.”

  Kerwin released himself from the restraining fields and walked over to eye Izmir, who now hung from the ceiling like a fluorescent yellow globe. A series of glowing, puls­ing black lines scrolled through his bulbous body.

  “Something funny happened while we were sliding.”

  “Hey, now there’s a news bulletin,” Seeth said sar­donically.

  “It might be. It was Izmir. He didn’t change. Every­body else changed, looked like they were coming apart, but not him.”

  “Really so?” Rail glanced up at the Astarach. “I must say I am not surprised. There is nothing like him. Another of his unique properties. You are certain of this? Piloting, I never had the chance to notice this before. Perhaps you imagined it.”

  “No. Everything else looked wild, but not him. He kept his shape throughout the whole slide.”

  “Fascinating. I will be most interested absorbed to see what our research people find when they are given the chance to examine him. On this ship I naturally have neither the time nor the equipment nor the education to commence such a study.”

  “Hey, I don’t care what you find out,” said Seeth excitedly. “Nothing’s gonna top that shooting match. I thought arcade guns were fun, but wow.”

  “It was a real gun,” Kerwin reminded him somberly. “You were shooting at real people.”

  “Oomemians ain’t real people, Jack.”

  Rail sounded approving. “You will be popular on Prufillia, my young friend.”

  “Say so. They were the bad guys, that’s all that mat­ters. That and the fact that I didn’t have to keep putting quarters in. I mean, slipspace is cool.”

  “The first people from our planet to go faster than light, and all you can say about the experience was that it was ‘cool’?” Kerwin shook his head.

  “Hey, what do you want me to say? I’m no college boy. I ain’t into complex semantics. Hey, lawn-face, can we do it again?”

  “There is no reason to slide just now. I think we have accomplished what we set out to do.”