First Command Read Free Page B

road.
    “Was that necessary, hoplite?” asked Brasidus coldly.
    “You heard what Sergeant Lysander told us, Sergeant.” The man leered. “This was an emergency.”
    Only a bird, thought Brasidus. Only a stupid bird. Even so . . . He asked himself, Am I getting soft? But I can’t be. Not in this job. And in all my relationships I’m the dominant partner.
    The spaceport was ahead now, its latticework control tower looming starkly against the brightening yellow of the eastern sky. Atop the signal mast there was flashing the intense green light that warned of incoming traffic. A ship was due. Latterhaven Venus or Latterhaven Hera ? And what would either of them be doing here off season?
    The car halted at the main gates, sitting there on the cloud of dust blown up and around it by its ducts. The guard on duty did not leave his box, merely actuated the mechanism that opened the gateway, waved the police through. As they drove to the Spaceport Security Office, Brasidus saw that the inner barrier was being erected on the concrete apron. He noticed, too, that only one conveyor belt had been rigged, indicating that there would be very little cargo either to load or to discharge. That, at this time of the year, made sense. But why should the ship be coming here at all?
    They were outside the office now. The car stopped, subsided to the ground as its fans slowed to a halt. The constables jumped out, followed Brasidus into the building. To meet them there was Diomedes—corpulent, pallid, with a deceptively flabby appearance—the security captain. He returned Brasidus’ smart salute with a casual wave of his pudgy hand. “Ah, yes. The guard detail. The usual drill, Sergeant. You’re on duty until relieved. Nobody, Spartan or spaceman, to pass through the barrier either way without the Council’s written authority.” He glanced at the wall clock. “For your information, the ship is due at 0700 hours. You may stand down until 0650.”
    “Very good, sir. Thank you, sir,” snapped Brasidus. “If I may ask, sir, which of the two ships is it? “
    “You may ask, Sergeant. But I’m just Security. Nobody ever tells me anything.” He relented slightly. “If you must know, it’s neither of the two regular ships. It’s some wagon with the most unlikely name of Seeker III .”
    “Not like the Latterhaveneers to omit the name of their precious planet,” muttered somebody.
    “But, my dear fellow, the ship’s not from Latterhaven. That’s the trouble. And now, Sergeant, if you’ll come with me I’ll try to put you into the picture. It’s a pity that nobody’s put me into it first.”

Chapter 4

    THE SHIP THAT WAS NOT from Latterhaven was no more than a glittering speck in the cloudless morning sky when Diomedes, followed by Brasidus and the six hoplites, marched out from the office onto the apron, to the wire mesh barrier that had been erected to define and enclose the strange vessel’s landing place. It was no more than a speck, but it was expanding rapidly, and the rhythmic beat of the inertial drive, faint to begin with, was becoming steadily louder.
    Old Cleon, the port master, was there, his long white hair streaming out in the breeze. With him were other officials, one of whom carried a portable transceiver. Brasidus could overhear both ends of the conversation. He learned little; it was no more than the exchange of messages to be expected with standard landing procedure. Cleon himself did not seem to be very interested. He turned to Diomedes. “Most unprecedented!” he complained. “Most unprecedented. Had it not been for the Council’s direct orders I should have refused permission to land.”
    “It’s not a very large ship,” said Diomedes, squinting upwards.
    “Large enough. Too large, for an intruder. Those rebels on Latterhaven might have let us know that they’ve discovered and colonized other habitable planets.”
    “They, too, must have a security service,” said Diomedes. “Secrets, secrets!