Forbidden Planets by Peter Crowther (Ed) Read Free Book Online

wise-acre but loyal, stood at one end of the wardroom, his head deep in the hood of an inform-o-scanner brought in for our purposes.
    Heminge, stolid as his pistol but equally reliable as both peacekeeper and weapon, sat at the conference table, which had been pulled up from the deck and secured into place, a red marker in hand as he reviewed reconnaissance photography of this world, still damp from the imaging engines. The good Doctor Marley, paler and more slightly built than the rest of us, sly and twisty as ever, a master of challenge without quite rising to the level of insubordination, was down in the sick bay, making notes about his observations of Lehr and Cordel with a promise to return shortly.
    And of course there was Beaumont. My Imperial Bureau of Compliance liaison, by courtesy holding rank of Lieutenant Commander and serving without apparent qualification or experience as executive officer on my ship, forced upon me by the nature of this mission. I would have been unsurprised to find that he had separate knowledge of my charge with respect to the planet-buster. Here was a man created by Nature to climb the ladders of power like a weasel in a hydroponics farm. Were I free to do so, I would have strapped him to that bloody bedamned bomb and dropped them both into the nearest star. Instead, he currently sat opposite me, his face set in that secretive smirk which seemed to be his most ordinary expression, hands steepled before his lips as though in prayer, his black eyes glittering.
    Beaumont spoke into his fingertips: “So, Captain de Vere, such a pretty trail you have set yourself to. Do you plan to offer aid and comfort to Broken Spear ’s survivors?”
    “Imperial Military Code is clear enough,” I replied. “We are required to render such assistance as our capabilities permit and to evacuate however many survivors we can accommodate, so long as those left behind are not so reduced in numbers or required skills as to be in peril of their lives.”
    “Codex three, chapter seven, subchapter twenty-one. Good enough, Captain.”
    “I’m so pleased to have your approval, Commander . I doubt that they will come. They were not pleased to see us.”
    Heminge interrupted without looking up from his photographs, though he was most certainly listening intently. “Where is the command section? The portions of Broken Spear that are identifiably hull down on this world do not include the command section.”
    “Does it matter?” snapped Beaumont.
    Heminge looked up, met the political officer’s eyes. “Yes. It does matter. Sir. Captain Lehr was sitting in a command chair. That means the command section was either at one time on the surface, having since departed, or that it survived undamaged in orbit long enough for interior components to be removed and brought down by other means.”
    Deckard spoke from the depths of his viewing hood, his voice only somewhat muffled. “There are several metallic bodies in high orbit. One might assume they represented missing sections of Broken Spear .”
    “Which suggests Lehr allowed the ship to be broken apart in orbit and made an emergency landing with the main hull section,” I said. The cargo at issue on board Broken Spear had been carried in the captain’s safe, immediately behind the bridge on that hull type. Had they landed the command section as well and taken the cargo off? Or moved it to the main hull section before bringing that down?
    It had been a terribly dangerous thing to do, whatever the reason. And the nature of Lehr’s throne underscored the fact that the object of my search could be anywhere.
    I considered my regret for the planet-buster in the belly of Six Degrees . Marley bustled into the wardroom, speaking quickly as he always did: “Only one woman on that ship, de Vere, which is one more than our lot has got. Don’t know why he thinks he has daughters—Allison Cordel hasn’t been gravid any more than I have. Not here. She would never carry to