Part 16 (2/2)

Charlie glowered at him. 'It's in Latin,' he said.

'What's that, then?'

'It's the language the Romans used to speak. Besides, three grand of synthigold ain't nothing on three mill of the big B.'

'Quite.' Xais gestured ahead. 'Let us hurry, please.'

As they walked on, she looked approvingly at the deserted corridors and pa.s.sageways and at their escort of two Ogrons.

'Perhaps I was hasty in my opinion of your new slaves. They have done well to clear this place of the Normals.'

Charlie nodded. 'They're not bad lads.'

'Where did you come by them?'

Eddie answered. 'After the firm was broken up, we were on the look out for some new muscle. We got them cheap, in a job lot from the labour pits.'

'What Edward means to say,' said Charlie, 'is that we purchased the Ogrons for a compet.i.tive price from the auctions on Gh.e.l.luris. Their previous owners had run into a spot of bother they were planning to invade the galaxy but some bloke blew half of them sky high and they had to sell up.'

'Charlie got us the s.h.i.+p into the bargain,' said Eddie. 'It used to belong to a warfleet, you know.'

'Oh really?' said Xais.

'Yes. But it isn't a patch on what we're used to, though. We had a luxury cla.s.s star yacht, you know. The Stellar Caprice Stellar Caprice.

Gone like all the rest of our stuff when we were gra.s.sed up.'

Charlie stopped and turned. 'Eddie, you know I don't like you talking about the old days.'

They had now almost reached the control centre. Xais had another question to ask. 'The man who betrayed you. You never met him, yet you trusted him. I always wondered. Why was this?'

'He was a good contact. Plenty of inside knowledge. We communicated in code, on pirate satellites. He always fixed things for us, told us if the coppers were sniffing round. In return, he got his cut. Thirty per cent, beamed down the credit line to an untraceable Platinumtown bank account. He called himself Sentinel.'

Charlie's hands clenched. 'The lying sc.u.m put the law on to us. He must have got greedy for the price on our heads. We had to break up the firm and run. None of our mates got away.

Tony, Frankie, Dylan the leg. All gone to the particle reverser.'

'It is good that you understand hatred for this Sentinel,'

said Xais as they reached the door of the control centre.

'Hatred is the purest, strongest, most beautiful force in the universe.'

The door to computer control was flung open from inside and Pyerpoint staggered out. She'd been wondering where he'd got to. He straightened himself and their eyes met.

'Well?' he said with surprising calm. 'I'm waiting for an explanation.'

Xais threw her head back and laughed. 'Gentlemen. Allow me to introduce High Archon Pyerpoint.'

'The reversing judge,' Charlie said. 'You pa.s.sed sentence on my firm, old man.'

Pyerpoint faced him squarely. 'I would do so again. It is my duty.'

Eddie reached inside his jacket and pulled out a compact black blaster. 'Can I have him, Charlie?' he pleaded.

Xais stepped forward. 'No. I have good reason to hate this man also. It was he who sentenced me to death.' She stared at Pyerpoint. 'I want him to suffer ultimate humiliation before he dies.'

'Why not?' said Charlie. He came closer to Pyerpoint and fixed him with his fiercest stare. 'Bnorg,' he ordered the nearest Ogron. 'Take this old fellow back to the s.h.i.+p and put him in with the other one. In the guest suite.'

The Ogron grabbed Pyerpoint by the scruff of his neck. 'No guest suite on s.h.i.+p, Mr Charles,' he said, confused.

'The crew quarters.'

Bnorg nodded and grunted, his huge yellow teeth and rotting gums visible as he gave the Ogron equivalent of a laugh. 'Guest suite! It is a funny joke!'

'Shut up and obey your orders,' Charlie said. Bnorg quietened immediately and set off back down the corridor, almost dragging Pyerpoint along behind him.

Xais returned her attentions to the door of computer control. 'Now, to business. We must set a course for Planet Eleven.'

'Hold on. Why don't we take our own s.h.i.+p?'

Xais said patiently, 'No. You would not be able to land on its boggy surface. We will use this station to reach Eleven, transmat down to the survey base on the surface, and then release the security on their emergency launchpad.'

Charlie was pleased. 'You've got this well planned. Good.'

The Doctor had spent about three-quarters of an hour under the watchful eyes of the sweet-toothed Ogron and he was becoming bored. He took another look around the mess. In a corner stood a large food dispenser, of the kind that normally displays a variety of items from which the user makes a selection. This one appeared to contain nothing but meat pasties.

'Excuse me. This machine. There's nothing in it but pasties.'

The Ogron nodded. 'We like pasties.'

'Good job, really.' The Doctor squinted at something written in small alien script further along the wall. 'Product of the Kathok empire,' he read. 'Hah. Haven't seen one of these for years. I think your masters have been taken for a ride.'

'What do you say?' Gjork asked, puzzled.

The Doctor was glad of the opportunity to demonstrate his superior knowledge, even to an audience this limited and uncomprehending.

'The Kathok empire,' he explained, 'was an invention of sc.r.a.p merchants in the fourth quadrant. They'd had a few wars in that area, and were left with bits of old s.p.a.ces.h.i.+ps and not a lot of people left to sell them to. So they jammed all the bits together, spun some tale about a fallen empire, and sold them off to gullible souls in surrounding s.p.a.ce. All very underhand.

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