The Fugitive Worlds Read Free Page A

sense of wonder stirring as he thought of the magnitude of the journey the boy had completed. In spite of his youthfulness, Steenameert had seen sights and had been granted experi ences Toller could scarcely imagine. Toller envied him and also was deeply curious about what had been discovered on the voyage to Land—the first since the colonization of Overland had begun fifty years earlier.
    "Tell me, corporal," he said. "What was it like on the Old World?"
    Steenameert looked hesitant. "Sir, the dispatches are privy to her Majesty."
    "Never mind the dispatches. Man-to-man, what did you see? What was it like?
    A gratified expression appeared on Steenameert's face as he struggled out of his one-piece skysult, making it apparent that he had a compulsion to talk about his adventures. "Empty cities! Great cities, cities which make Prad look like a village—and all of them empty!"
    "Empty? But what about the—?"
    "Mister Maraquine!" The Countess Vantara was still a dozen paces away, but her voice was forceful enough to silence Toller in mid-sentence. "Pending your dismissal from the Service for willfully damaging one of her Majesty's air ships, I am taking command of your vessel. You will consider yourself under arrest!"
    The arrogance and the sheer unreasonableness of Vantara's words checked Toller's breath, inspiring in him a pang of fury so intense that he knew it was vital for it to be subdued. He put on his most relaxed smile, turned slowly towards the countess, and immediately wished he had met her under different circumstances. She had one of those faces which have the effect of filling men with hopeless admiration and women with hopeless envy. It was oval, grey-eyed and perfect—flawless in a way which set its owner apart from all the other women Toller had ever seen.
    "What are you grinning at?" Vantara demanded. "Did you not hear what I said?"
    Putting his regrets aside, Toller said, "Don't be silly. Do you need any help with repairs to your ship?"
    Vantara glanced in outrage at the lieutenant who had just arrived at her side, then triangulated her gaze on Toller's face. "Mister Maraquine, you don't seem to realize the seriousness of your situation. You are under arrest."
    Toller sighed. "Listen to me, captain. You have behaved very stupidly, but fortunately no real damage has been done and there is no need for either of us to make an official report. Let us just go our separate ways and forget the whole sorry incident."
    "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
    "It would be better than prolonging this lunacy of yours."
    Vantara's hand moved to the butt of the pistol in her belt. "I repeat, Mister Maraquine, you are under arrest."
    Scarcely able to believe what was happening, Toller in stinctively gripped the haft of his sword.
    Vantara's smile was icily perfect. "What do you think you could do with that ridiculous museum piece?"
    "Since you ask, I'll tell you," Toller said, lightly and evenly. "Before you could even raise your pistol I could cleave your head from your body, and were your lieutenant foolhardy enough to try menacing me she would suffer the same fate. Furthermore, even if you had two others of your crew with you . . . and even if they managed to fire and put their bullets into me ... I would nevertheless be able to run at them and cut them down.
    "I hope I have made myself clear, Captain Dervonai. I am under direct orders from her Majesty, and if anybody attempts to prevent me executing those orders that attempt will end in terrible bloodshed. Those are the simple facts of the matter." Keeping his expression bland, Toller waited to see what effect his words would have on Vantara. The physique he had inherited from his grandfather was a living reminder of the days when the military had comprised a separate caste in Kolcorron. He towered over the countess and had twice her weight, and yet he was not at all certain that things were going to go his way. She had the look of one who was not accustomed to being