Chapter 50
FROM: Kenneth Mayhew, Lieutenant Commander (PC) FSS
TO: Rear Admiral Damien FSS, OIC Operation Jolly Roger
Sir,
I have to report as follows on the circumstances of the death, in the line of duty, of Lieutenant Commander Victor Venner FSS.
As planned by yourself and others the Interstellar Transport Commission’s ship Epsilon Draconis, Captain Mulligan FSSR, was intercepted and seized by Sister Sue, Captain Grimes FSSR. After the capture normal deep space routine—or deep space routine as normal as possible in the circumstances—was resumed. After discussing various matters with Captain Grimes I went down to the wardroom for a game of bridge with Mr. Malleson, the Mannschenn Drive chief engineer, Ms. Magda Granadu, the ship’s purser and Lieutenant Commander Venner. Rather unusually no other off-duty personnel were in the compartment.
I freely admit that I should have used my telepathic powers to make a check. I did not do so for two reasons. Firstly, when I play cards with non-telepaths I deliberately “close down” the portion of my brain that acts as psionic transceiver. Secondly, I had become increasingly disgusted by the glimpses I had caught of the off-duty activities of various officers, these being Ms. Kath Connellan, second mate, Ms. Walshingham (the Countess of Walshingham), fourth mate and El Doradan liaison officer, Messrs. Denning, Paulus and Singh, junior inertial drive engineers, and Messrs. Trantor and Giddings, Mannschenn Drive juniors.
I did not foresee that my prudishness would have such disastrous consequences and accept, without reservation, whatever punishment you may consider called for.
We were, as I have said, playing bridge. I was partnered with Ms. Granadu; Lieutenant Commander Venner with Mr. Malleson. I had opened the bidding with one no trump. Mr. Malleson bid two hearts. Ms. Granadu bid two no trumps. We were waiting, it seemed a long time, for Lieutenant Commander Venner to make his bid. I realized that he was staring at the door into the alleyway. I turned to look at what had attracted his attention. It was Ms. Connellan. She was holding a heavy pistol—later identified as a Bendon-Smith scattergun, El Doradan Navy issue—and pointing it straight at us. Behind her were Denning and Paulus, both of them armed with wrenches, and Trantor, with a big screwdriver.
She said, “Freeze, all of you! We’re taking the ship. Grimesy isn’t the only bastard around here who can play at pirates!”
I “switched on” then. What I received was garbled, the outpourings of minds that were vicious, greedy and—insofar as the men were concerned—not a little scared. The women—the Green Hornet (as she was nicknamed) and the Countess—were the ringleaders. Later I was to learn that the intention had been to seize Sister Sue and to take her and the prize to one of the planets of the Duchy of Waldegren. The immediate attention, however, was to capture and restrain the captain and all loyal officers.
“Get away from the table,” ordered Ms. Connellan. “Get down onto the deck, on your faces, with your hands behind you!” She made a jerking motion with her gun as she said this. For a second, for less than a second, we were no longer in the field of its fire.
The first card that Lieutenant Commander Venner flipped from his hand caught Ms. Connellan in the throat. The sharp plastic sliced through skin and flesh, severed a major blood vessel. I remember being surprised to see that her blood was red and not green. She fired her pistol before she dropped it to put her hand up to the spurting wound. The pellets tore a wide, ragged gash in the carpet but did no other damage.
Before she had fallen, before she had even started to fall, Lieutenant Commander Venner’s second card caught Mr. Denning just above the eyes. He screamed and threw his arms out violently, letting go of the heavy wrench that he had been holding. I think that if Lieutenant Commander Venner had not been concentrating on his third shot, the one that sliced off Mr. Trantor’s right ear, he would have seen the clumsy missile coming and dodged it. As it was, it struck him on the left forehead, killing him instantly.
Ms. Granadu picked up the pistol and covered Mr. Trantor and Mr. Denning, both of whom were bleeding profusely, and Mr. Paulus. They were cowed and allowed themselves to be driven into one of her storerooms, which she locked. Mr. Malleson and I tried to do something for Lieutenant Commander Venner but he was beyond aid. As a telepath I knew that the spark of life had been extinguished. Ms. Connellan expired while we were kneeling by our dead shipmate . . .
Scrawled comment, signed Damien.
Vivid writing. The man’s wasted in the Survey Service; he should be a novelist. If we weren’t so short of trained telepaths I would encourage him to forsake space to enter the literary profession.