The Prison in Antares by Mike Resnick Read Free Book Online Page B

insignia?”
    â€œI think we’re better off without a military ship,” replied Pretorius after considering it for a moment. “I’d like the armaments, but there are dozens of Antarean and Coalition protocols we’re unaware of, and if we give a wrong answer to a military unit or spaceport we could get blown to bits.” He paused, considering their options. “No, the one thing we don’t need to do is get into a shooting war with any part of the Coalition fleet, either at Antares or on the way to or from there. See if you can find us a ship, within twenty percent of this size, and I don’t know how the hell you can measure fuel consumption with your computer, but I’d like to think that once we leave Antares we won’t have to renew the nuclear pile or whatever the hell it’s using until we get back to the Democracy.”
    â€œAll right, I’ll see what I can do,” said Pandora.
    â€œAnd while I’m thinking of it, try and find a ship with a computer that can do pretty much what yours can do. What’s the point of having the best hacker in the Democracy if all she’s got is the equivalent of an adding machine and map reader?”
    â€œNate, there’s just so much I can scrutinize before they know they’re being scrutinized, and that blows the whole operation.”
    â€œOkay, okay,” said Pretorius. “Why am I telling you what to do? Just let me know when you’ve found us a vessel.”
    â€œHopefully without too many soldiers guarding it,” added Ortega.
    They sat around making small talk for a few minutes while Pandora kept issuing orders to the ship’s computer. Finally she turned and faced the rest of them.
    â€œOkay, I’ve found what we need,” she announced.
    â€œWhat have you got?” asked Pretorius.
    â€œMiga, the third planet in the Brynne system.”
    â€œWhere is it?”
    â€œAbout six light-years this side of the Coalition’s border,” said Pandora. “But it’s very near the Trodok Wormhole—at least, I think that’s how it’s pronounced—that’ll get us more than halfway to Antares.”
    â€œAnd what makes this world the one we want?”
    â€œFirst off, it’s an oxygen world, pretty much the same content as Antares Six, a little thin, but breathable. It’s a farming world, and a reasonably productive one, so there’s a constant flow of ships in and out of it. Right now there are two ships from the Antares system, one from Two and one from Six, each about the right size, one on the ground, one docked at an orbiting hangar. There’s quite an active Tradertown where the one on the ground is, maybe five hotels and guesthouses, a few bars, the usual.”
    â€œSounds good,” said Pretorius. “How soon can we get there?”
    â€œIf the damned Billermein Wormhole will just stop moving for another few hours, I can have us there in seven Standard hours,” answered Pandora.
    â€œPut us in gear and let’s get moving,” he said.
    â€œHell,” added Ortega, “even if the two Antarean ships are gone, they figure to have more shortly.”
    â€œThey’d better not be gone,” said Pretorius.
    Ortega looked at him questioningly.
    â€œDon’t forget,” said Pretorius. “We don’t know what they’re doing to Nmumba, or how much longer he can hold out.”
    â€œIf he hasn’t broken,” added Snake.
    â€œIf he hasn’t broken,” agreed Pretorius.

9
    When they were still two light-years away, they were able to bring up an image of Miga, a nondescript little world, the third of five planets circling the G-type yellow star of Brynne. It had a single mountain range, a freshwater ocean, a few major rivers and a number of minor ones. It possessed a Tradertown with a population of about ten thousand, and half a dozen even smaller villages—headquarters for the