Through the corridors of the Ihiolcian Eagle, Vito Turhi moved with the utmost care, flexing his arm to work out the kinks in his shoulder.
He was alone.
He had given Jakar Thul the slip, for Thul had quickly made it clear that he had no intention of letting Turhi handle matters the way he wanted to. The idea of not using any of the hand weapons, for starters, was intolerable to Thul. In his arrogance----at least, arrogance the way Turhi saw it----Thul felt that he himself did not have to depend upon weapons. But he was of the forceful opinion that if Turhi had the chance to use a weapon on Cartagia, he should take it. That nothing was going to be accomplished by treating the situation as a grudge match.
But this had gone far beyond grudges. Turhi knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that he was going to kill Cartagia. He just had to. Honor would not allow anything less. And he had to do it with his bare hands. This was not a question of honor allowing anything less, but rather his simple determination to make Cartagia's punishment as painful as possible.
So Turhi had, moving quickly, left the Malon behind. He'd been subtle about it; give him some credit. He'd darted down a corridor at a faster clip than the Malon could maintain, and then run off down a connector, slid through a maintenance tube, and next thing he knew, he was on his own. And if he should live long enough to be in an position where he need make excuses, he could always simply claim that they had become accidentally separated from each other. Accidents, after all, did happen.
He heard a noise.
It was definitely not Jakar Thul. He already knew that rock-steady footfall. No, it was quick, extremely light-footed. He would almost have thought it was the movement of a small animal, so fast and nearly insubstantial was it. But Turhi wasn't fooled, not for a moment.
He crouched down and moved like a giant spider, arms and legs operating in perfect synchronization. He presented as minimal a target as possible, should it come to that.
He moved past one room, the door to which was closed, and from within he thought he heard something. A quick footfall, or maybe something on a table within that was slightly jolted and sent skidding. Something. He paused outside the door, crouching to one side, trying to determine whether or not he should burst into the room. It could very well be that someone was waiting for him to do just that, and had a vicious weapon aimed squarely at the door.
Or maybe they had anticipated that he would think entry through the door was a trap---and were instead aimed at the ceiling, or at a vent, hoping that he would make his entry that way.
He still had the plasma blaster slung across his shoulders, and practically began to rear its ugly head. He still had every reason to want to throttle Cartagia----but by the same token, he had a few more reasons to want to continue to live.
Well---maybe using the plasma blaster wouldn't be such a crime after all, as long as the killing blow was struck by hand. That was, after all, the important thing.
He unslung the blaster, aimed it squarely at the door, and fired. At such close range, the plasma blast plowed through the door like acid through paper, and Turhi leaped headlong through the door, shoulder rolled and came up to face---
----nothing.
He was inside a laboratory, and there was no evidence of anyone else there. There was a beaker rolling across a table. Other than that, nothing.
He muttered a curse as he slung the plasma blaster over his back. The noise of the plasma blaster would no doubt attract Cartagia or his compatriots there. Or else Thul himself, which would leave Turhi with explaining to do and an undesired ally at his back. Turhi felt that if there was one thing he didn't need, it was someone watching out for him.
He thought that up until the moment that the ceiling crashed in on him.
It caught him completely by surprise as an overhead grating slammed down onto him, driving him to his knees. A split-second later, Cartagia dropped down from his hiding place overhead inside one of the engineering service ducts, and landed squarely on Turhi's back.
He drove a vicious blow to the base of Turhi's neck, to the hard cluster of muscles situated there, and by all rights it should have paralyzed Turhi from the neck down for approximately five minutes. In the short term, it did the job. Turhi thudded to the ground, unable to feel anything in the rest of his body. The fall spilled Cartagia to the floor as well, but Cartagia struggled furiously, trying to regain command over his movements, as a sneering Cartagia approached him.
"Too easy. Much too easy," he said.
The humans had a phrase for it: mind over matter. The mind belonged to Turhi, and the matter was (in this instance) his own body. He refused to acknowledge the physical reality that he was helpless. He would not allow himself to die helplessly in a paralyzed condition. It simply could not (would not) be done. His brain sent commands to the rest of his body to respond, sending synapses roaring through him like photon torpedoes.
Against all odds, against anything that Cartagia would have deemed possible, Turhi's legs slammed upward. They didn't do so with all the force that they normally possessed. But it was sufficient as his legs scissored around Cartagia's at the knees. Before Cartagia cold move, Turhi forced himself to twist at the waist. He felt sluggish, torpid, but slow for Turhi was still lightning for most anyone else. The move was sufficient to collapse Cartagia's leg, and Cartagia went down to find himself on the floor, face-to-face with the enraged Turhi.
Turhi rolled over, half-leaping and half lunging toward Cartagia. He landed squarely on his opponent, grabbed him firmly by the ears, yanked upward and then down, slamming Cartagia's head onto the grated floor. Cartagia's head rang from the impact, and with a roar and an effort fueled by the explosion of pain behind his eyes, Cartagia shoved Turhi off himself. Turhi rolled over toward a table, saw an opportunity, and quickly upended the table, sending it tumbling toward Cartagia. Cartagia barely managed to scramble out of the way, and by the time he was on his feet, so was Turhi.
They stood there for a moment, catching their respective breaths, their chests heaving, their hatred almost palpable.
"It's been ages, Vito," snarled Cartagia.
"Where are the other two? Muaado and Aton, they must be nearby."
"You don't think I'd give away our strategic position, do you?" In point of fact, they were nowhere nearby. The confrontation was strictly between Cartagia and Turhi, which was how Cartagia had wanted it.
Yet Turhi smiled with thinly veiled contempt and said, "Did you embark on this stupidity on your own? Or, even better---did they accompany you on this endeavor and then take the opportunity to abandon you? Is that it? Have your cheerfully domineering ways managed to grate on them after all these years? That would not surprise me. No, not in the least."
Rallying himself, Cartagia said, "Tell me, Turhi, what is it like knowing that you are a complete and total failure?"
Turhi didn't even deign to answer the question. He merely tossed a disdainful look at him.
"I see you have a weapon on your back," continued Cartagia. "And yet you would not use it."
"I've known you too long, Cartagia. I knew that you would desire to settle this hand-to-hand, between the two of us. In many ways, you're sadly predictable."
"In many ways, so are you. The difference between us is, I make use of that predictability----and you don't."
And Cartagia snapped his arm forward in what seemed an oddly casually gesture, as if he were endeavoring to shake hands.
A short blade hurtled out from his sleeve, thudding deeply into Turhi's already injured upper shoulder. Turhi let out an angry roar and tried to pull it out, but the tip was barbed and it wasn't going to be easy to remove. Nor was Cartagia giving him the time, for Cartagia vaulted the distance between the two of them, grabbed the blade by the handle, and twisted it. Pain screamed through Turhi, and he howled in fury.
"Enjoying your revenge, Vito?" asked Cartagia as he wrenched the dagger around in place. Blood fountained from the gaping wound in Turhi.
But in order to handle the dagger, Cartagia had had to get close in to Turi, giving him opportunity to strike back. The base of Turhi's hand slammed into the bridge of Cartagia's nose, and the crack---like a ricochet---sounded in the room. The world hazed red to Cartagia, and suddenly he felt Turhi's hands at his throat. Turhi's thumbs dug in and upward, seeking out the choke hold, cutting off Cartagia's air.
"I don't care what happens to me," Turhi said hoarsely, his voice like a growl, "and I don't care how I die, as long as you die first."
Cartagia drove a knee up into Turhi's gut. Turhi grunted, ignoring the pain, beyond its ability to influence him. He was focused on one goal: choking the life from Cartagia. His hands were locked securely on, all his strength dedicated to the effort. The rest of the world seemed to evaporate around him. There was just Cartagia, and him, and the of Cartagia's pulse beneath his fingers which Turhi was determined to extinguish.
He started to force Cartagia down, down to his knees, and Cartagia cried out in pain and fear. And in desperation, Cartagia managed to slam his head forward against the hilt of the dagger, driving it in even deeper.
Turhi had no choice. The knife struck a muscle which, as a reflex, caused Turhi's hands to flex open just for a moment. It was all Cartagia needed as he tore himself away, literally throwing his body the distance of the lab. He crashed to the floor just inside the door.
Dark liquid covered the entire front of Turhi's tunic, but he didn't care. Like an unswerving juggernaut, he lurched toward Cartagia, fingers still opening and closing spasmodically as if he still had Cartagia's throat between them. As if he was positive that it would only be a matter of moments before he once again had Cartagia's life in his hands.
There was much that Cartagia had fancied about Turhi, for it had been several years since he had actually set eyes on him. There was much that he had managed to convince himself of. Once upon a time, he had spent days hunting by Turhi's side. He had wrestled with him, sparred with him, confided in him, giving Turhi his confidence and received it in return. For the purpose of rationalizing the split that had occurred between them, Cartagia had indulged in that habit which most sentient beings engaged in when separating from old friends: demonizing. Cartagia had told so many people that Turhi was a fake, a fraud, a lazy bastard who was more lucky than skilled, and of whom everyone had been afraid because of his station in life, that Cartagia had more or less convinced himself of that as well.
So it was very disturbing for Cartagia to find himself in combat with Turhi now and come to the stark realization that his memory had played tricks on him. He had convinced himself that, face-to-face, hand-to-hand, he could easily handle Turhi.
Now he realized that, at the very least, he could handle Turhi but with extreme difficulty. Extreme difficulty meant that a good deal of time was going to be occupied accomplishing it. And time was something he didn't have in abundance.
He tapped the comm-link unit on his wrist even as he backpedaled into the corridor. "All right, enough! Beam me out!"
That was when Cartagia felt the ground starting to tremble beneath him. He glanced off to his right and saw what seemed to be a walking landmass advancing on him. Jakar Thul charged forward, arms pumping.
Then Cartagia heard a defiant war cry and his attention was yanked back to Turhi. Turhi had actually ripped the barbed dagger from his shoulder, which should have been impossible. At the very least, any normal person would have collapsed in agony by that point. But if there was any doubt to Cartagia's mind that Turhi was far from normal, it would certainly have been settled by now.
The dagger was dripping with Turhi's blood. He could not have cared less. He tossed it aside, sending it clattering across the floor leaving a trail of red behind him. And then he lurched forward toward Cartagia.
One hand was outstretched, his palm covered with thick, dark fluids, his own.
He didn't care.
He had a weapon still strapped to his back.
He didn't care.
He was injured, wounded, every muscle in his body aching, and weak from blood loss. And Turhi didn't care.
The only thing he cared about was getting his hands on Cartagia. Which, ultimately, he was able to do.
A sound filled the immediate area. Although it was of a different timbre than the noise produced by a regulation Fleet transporter, nonetheless it was easily identifiable as a matter transporter sound.
"No!" howled Turhi in outrage, and in desperation he leaped at Cartagia. His hope that if he managed to leap into range of the transport effect in time, he would be brought along to wherever it was that Cartagia was heading. But he was too late. Cartagia's form became just insubstantial enough for Turhi to fall right through it. He hit the metal grating of the floor as Cartagia---along with Turhi's chances for vengeance---vanished.
"Get back here, you bastard!" shouted Turhi, slamming his fists on the floor in frustration.
"Hear not you he will," observed Thul, who had chugged to a halt just short of running Turhi over.
Then the comm unit that Turhi had taken off the fallen Centauri beeped. There was no question in his mind who it was who was endeavoring to get in touch with him. He activated it and said angrily, "I call you coward, Cartagia!"
"I call you dead, Turhi," Cartagia replied with just a touch of regret. "But if you want to discuss it further, I suggest you adjourn to a location two decks below you, aft section." And he clicked off.
Without hesitation, Turhi pivoted and started off in the direction that Cartagia had indicated, but he was brought to an abrupt halt by Cartagia, who had gotten a firm grip on his arm. "You no do. Do you not again."
"I'm not going to let him get away!"
"Did you already. Mean you that you not get away let him again? Up for debate be that."
"Thul, let go of me!" he said with angry imperiousness. And then, in a tone that was a bit more pleading, he added, "Please."
"Go we together. Promise. Say now."
Turhi gritted his teeth and nodded reluctantly. "Together. But you will not interfere in the outcome. Promise. Say now. Say you'll do nothing to interfere in the outcome of the battle between Cartagia and me."
"Not interfere I. Promise. Not interfere I in battle's outcome."
"Very well. Let's go." And he charged off, but slowly enough that Thul could keep up.
Cartagia stared out at the depths of space which beckoned to them. Muaado and Aton stood on either side of him, fidgeting nervously, staring at the darkened navigation console of their escape vessel. It was not a particularly large ship; indeed, joined as it was to the airlock of the Ihiolcian Eagle, it had actually avoided the Prennia detecting it. It had room enough for three people, and also a single transport pad, which Muaado had used to get Cartagia off the science vessel to which they were still attached.500Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbZ3dzpjdZK
"Cartagia, get us out of here," Aton said urgently.
It was hard to tell whether Cartagia had really heard him. He just sat there, jaw set, anger flickering in his eyes.
Muaado crouched down and said sharply, "Cartagia----I wish, for your sake, you had defeated him in the manner you desired. But we had a deal. We gave you ten minutes. The bomb is set. Further delay risks all our lives."
In a faintly mocking tone, Aton added, "It's the province of Vito Turhi and people like him to make promises that they don't keep.
Slowly Cartagia turned to them, appearing to notice them for the first time since he'd been beamed aboard the escape vessel. "I am curious," he said. "If I had not rigged this vessel so that its flight systems would only respond to my voice commands....would you have left me on the ship? Left me behind to die with Vito Turhi? Or did you only stick to our plan because you needed me in order to escape?"
"Don't be absurd," Muaado said flatly, and Aton echoed the sentiment.
Cartagia looked into their eyes, tried to see the true feelings there. "You're afraid," he said after a moment.
"Of course we're afraid!" Aton told him in mounting exasperation. "We're attached to a vessel that's going to be space dust in a few minutes, and you're quizzing us over our devotion as your friends! Cut us loose from here and let's be done with it! We can discuss this all you want later, but if we don't break off now, there's not going to be a later!"
Cartagia stared at them for a moment that seemed to stretch out into forever, and then he said, "Nav computer, voice ID, Cartagia Tuko Taree."
"Voice ID confirmed," the computer replied indifferently.
"Nav systems on line. Detach vessel from airlock. Set heading to 294 on the Y-axis. Activate."
"Activating."
There was a slight jostling, the sound of huge metal clamps releasing, and a moment later they were free of their moorings. The escape vessel dropped away from the doomed science vessel Ihiolcian Eagle and arced away into the darkness of space.
And they didn't even notice that, far in the distance, something was starting to ripple into existence....
++++++
Turhi crept forward, and then was very unnerved as Jakar Thul strode by, making no attempt at subtlety. "Thul!" he hissed angrily. "Cartagia is just ahead! A little stealth would be appreciated!"
Thul looked at him blandly. "Malon be I," he informed him. " 'Stealth' do not do I."
Turhi rolled his eyes.
"Besides," continued Thul, marching ahead, floor rattling beneath him. "Suspect do I that moot the question will be. Cartagia there is not I do think."
"What?"
"Foolish would it be to blithely give away advantage or position of surprise in manner that."
"You don't know Cartagia like I do," said Turhi, moving just behind Thul.
"No, do not I. Result as thus, assess him I calmly and coldly, rather than my opinion let clouded be by hatred. Tell I you that move such as on part his would sheer foolishness be, and nothing told you I about him stupidity that levels indicates."
"What do you think to expect, then?"
"Trap I expect."
Turhi blew air impatiently out between his teeth. "I can handle any trap of Cartagia's."
They rounded a corner and then Thul came to such an abrupt halt that Turhi banged into his back, crunching his face into Turhi's spine. He stepped back, rubbing his nose, about to complain angrily---and then he saw it.
It was large and cylindrical, with moorings that had fused it to the floor, ceiling and walls so that it was impossible to move. It beeped imperturbably, and it was counting down.
Turhi's face darkened as Thul turned to face him. "Yours it is, Turhi. Something do, please."
Turhi approached it tentatively. There was a small display on the face of it, counting down. "A bomb!" he cried.
"Superheated thermite bomb that, if mistaken not am I. Readings and power escalation tell me detonate two minutes within it will. To guess if had to I, surmise would I that Cartagia is long gone, and left us has he to mercies nonexistent of his bomb."
Trying to fight down desperation, Turhi's fingers explored the outer casing. It was seamless. "Thul, I'm no munitions expert. You've got to defuse it."
"Sworn did I that interfere in battle's outcome would not I. Bomb left obviously by Cartagia was; part of the battle is. Take any action would in violation of my oath be. Dishonorable that. Can do that not."
Turhi looked at him with undisguised incredulity. "Is this some Malon idea of a joke?"
"Quite serious am I." He paused. "Could you, yes, release from vow I....."
"I release you! I release you!"
The moment he heard that, Thul crossed quickly to the bomb and began to look it over. Putting his strength into it, he attempted to twist open the casing. When it resisted his efforts, he pulled experimentally at the moorings, and then with greater force. The metal bars held firm. He paused, contemplated the situation a moment, and then turned to Turhi and put a large hand on Turhi's shoulder. "The gods eyes may upon you have, and in all future endeavors glory and success."
"Don't just yammer at me! Do something!"
"Doing something am I," he said unflappably. "In the afterworld wishing you well am I. From that aside, limited options are mine somewhat."
"Defuse that bomb!"
"Two hours on it to work had I, and a Fleet bomb squad my service at, option that might be. As is it....."
"You've got a phaser. Shoot it! Disintegrate it!"
"Set it off will an attempt to do so. Now, this indicator see you?" and he pointed to one panel. "Motion sensor is this. Will set it off will any attempt to move the bomb do."
Turhi was already in motion. "Let's go."
"Where go we?" asked Thul curiously.
"To the far end of the ship!"
"Turhi, this thing goes of when in a minute under now, part of the ship every will the far end be. To be scattered the system all over will be."
In helpless frustration, Turhi stared at the bomb and came to the same realization that Thul had come to the moment he'd seen it.
There was a long silence, and then Turhi turned to Thul and said, "I want you to understand: I am not afraid of death. In some ways, it's almost a blessing. But it angers me that I die while Cartagia gets away. It angers me much."
"Loose ends life is."
Turhi nodded, watching the bomb tick down, and then he patted Thul on the shoulder. "You are a fine warrior, Thul. I regreat that we didn't have more time to work out our differences. At least---at least I go to be with my sister, as you go to be with your parents."
"My parents?" Thul looked at him blankly.
"Yes. Your parents. Killed on the mining colony by Nordik----pirates...."
"Ahhhh." Thul's massive shoulders moved in something akin to a shrug. "A convenient thing to tell you seemed it like at the time. Actually, on Malon my parents live. A politician my mother is, a salesman of motivational programs be my father. Alive and well be they. For your concern thank you I, though."
Turhi stared at him. "You lied to me?"
"Did I of course. Wanted I you to feel had we something in common so that listen to me would you rather than like an idiot run. For that plan so much."
The bomb ticked down to zero.
"I hate you," said Turhi.
And the ship blew up.
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