The Misplaced Battleship

by Harley Harrison

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2010 Harley Harrison

A Staynless Steel Rat story

A Gender Switch Adventure

When it comes to picking locks and cracking safes I admit to no mistress. The door to Inskipp's private quarters had an old-fashioned tumbler drum that was easier to pick than my teeth. I must have gone through that door without breaking step. Quiet as I was though, Inskipp still heard me. The light came on and there she was sitting up in bed pointing a .75 caliber recoilless at my sternum.

'You should have more brains than that, de Gryz,' she snarled. 'Creeping into my room at night! You could have been shot.'

'No I couldn't,' I told her, as she stowed the cannon back under her pillow. 'A woman with a curiosity bump as big as yours will always talk first and shoot later. And besides—none of this pussyfooting around in the dark would be necessary if your screen was open and I could have got a call through.'

Inskipp yawned and poured herself a glass of water from the dispenser unit above the bed. 'Just because I head the Special Corps, doesn't mean that I am the Special Corps,' she said moistly while she drained the glass. 'I have to sleep sometime. My screen is open only for emergency calls, not for every agent who needs her hand held.'

'Meaning I am in the hand-holding category?' I asked with as much sweetness as I could.

'Put yourself in any category you please,' she grumbled as she slumped down in the bed. 'And also put yourself out into the hall and see me tomorrow during working hours.'

She was at my mercy, really. She wanted sleep so much. And she was going to be wide awake so very soon.

'Do you know what this is?' I asked her, poking a large glossy pic under her long broken nose. One eye opened slowly.

'Big warship of some kind, looks like Empire lines. Now for the last time—go away!' she said.

'A very good guess for this late at night,' I told her cheerily. 'It is a late Empire battleship of the Warlord class. Undoubtedly one of the most truly efficient engines of destruction ever manufactured. Over a half mile of defensive screens and armament, that could probably turn any fleet existent today into fine radioactive ash—'

'Except for the fact that the last one was broken up for scrap over a thousand years ago,' she mumbled.

I leaned over and put my lips close to her ear. So there would be no chance of misunderstanding. Speaking softly, but clearly.

'True, true,' I said. 'But wouldn't you be just a little bit interested if I was to tell you that one is being built today?'

Oh, it was beautiful to watch. The covers went one way and Inskipp went the other. In a single unfolding, in concerted motion she left the horizontal and recumbent and stood tensely vertical against the wall. Examining the pic of the battleship under the light. She apparently did not believe in pajama bottoms and it hurt me to see the goose-bumps rising on those thin shanks. But if the legs were thin, the voice was more than full enough to make up for the difference.

'Talk, blast you de Gryz—talk!' she roared. 'What is this nonsense about a battleship? Who's building it?'

I had my nail file out and was touching up a cuticle, holding it out for inspection before I said anything. From the corner of my eye I could see her getting purple about the face—but she kept quiet. I savored my small moment of power.

'Put de Gryz in charge of the record room for a while, you said, that way she can learn the ropes. Burrowing around in century-old, dusty files will be just the thing for a free spirit like Slippery Jem de Gryz. Teach her discipline. Show her what the Corps stands for. At the same time it will get the records in shape. They have been needing reorganization for quite a while.'

Inskipp opened her mouth, made a choking noise, then closed it. She undoubtedly realized that any interruption would only lengthen my explanation, not shorten it. I smiled and nodded at her decision, then continued.

'So you thought you had me safely out of the way. Breaking my spirit under the guise of 'giving me a little background in the Corps' activities.'  In this sense your plan failed. Something else happened instead. I nosed through the files and found them most interesting. Particularly the C & M setup—the Categorizer and Memory. That building full of machinery that takes in and digests news and reports from all the planets in the galaxy, indexes it to every category it can possibly relate, then files it. Great machine to work with. I had it digging out spaceship info for me, something I have always been interested in—'

'You should be,' Inskipp interrupted rudely. 'You've stolen enough of them in your time.'

I gave her a hurt look and went on—slowly. 'I won't bore you with all the details, since you seem impatient, but eventually I turned up this plan.' She had it out of my fingers before it cleared my wallet.

'What are you getting at?' she mumbled as she ran her eyes over the blueprints. 'This is an ordinary heavy-cargo and passenger job. It's no more a Warlord battleship than I am.'

* * * * *

It is hard to curl your lips with contempt and talk at the same time, but I succeeded. 'Of course. You don't expect them to file warship plans with the League Registry, do you? But, as I said, I know more than a little bit about ships. It seemed to me this thing was just too big for the use intended. Enough old ships are fuel-wasters, you don't have to build new ones to do that. This started me thinking and I punched for a complete list of ships that size that had been constructed in the past. You can imagine my surprise when, after three minutes of groaning, the C & M only produced six. One was built for self-sustaining colony attempt at the second galaxy. For all we know he is still on the way. The other five were all D-class colonizers, built during the Expansion when large populations were moved. Too big to be practical now.

'I was still teased, as I had no idea what a ship this large could be used for. So I removed the time interlock on the C & M and let it pick around through the entire history of space to see if it could find a comparison. It sure did. Right at the Golden Age of Empire expansion, the giant Warlord battleships. The machine even found a blueprint for me.'

Inskipp grabbed again and began comparing the two prints. I leaned over her shoulder and pointed out the interesting parts.

'Notice—if the engine room specs are changed slightly to include this cargo hold, there is plenty of room for the brutes needed. This superstructure—obviously just tacked onto the plans—gets thrown away, and turrets take its place. The hulls are identical. A change here, a shift there, and the stodgy freighter becomes the fast battlewagon. These changes could be made during construction, then plans filed. By the time anyone in the League found out what was being built the ship would be finished and launched. Of course, this could all be coincidence—the plans of a newly built ship agreeing to six places with those of a ship built a thousand years ago. But if you think so, I will give you hundred-to-one odds you are wrong, any size bet you name.'

I wasn't winning any sucker bets that night. Inskipp had led just as crooked a youth as I had, and needed no help in smelling a fishy deal. While she pulled on her clothes she shot questions at me.

'And the name of the peace-loving planet that is building this bad memory from the past?'

'Cittanuvo. Second planet of a B star in Corona Borealis. No other colonized planets in the system.'

'Never heard of it,' Inskipp said as we took the private drop chute to her office. 'Which may be a good or a bad sign. Wouldn't be the first time trouble came from some out-of-the-way spot I never even knew existed.'

With the automatic disregard for others of the truly dedicated, she pressed the scramble button on her desk. Very quickly sleepy-eyed clerks and assistants were bringing files and records. We went through them together.

Modesty prevented me from speaking first, but I had a very short wait before Inskipp reached the same conclusion I had. She hurled a folder the length of the room and scowled out at the harsh dawn light.

'The more I look at this thing,' she said, 'the fishier it gets. This planet seems to have no possible motive or use for a battleship. But they are building one—that I will swear on a stack of one thousand credit notes as high as this building. Yet what will they do with it when they have it built? They have an expanding culture, no unemployment, a surplus of heavy metals and ready markets for all they produce. No hereditary enemies, feuds or the like. If it wasn't for this battleship thing, I would call them an ideal League planet. I have to know more about them.'

'I've already called the spaceport—in your name of course,' I told her. 'Ordered a fast courier ship. I'll leave within the hour.'

'Aren't you getting a little ahead of yourself, de Gryz,' she said. Voice chill as the icecap. 'I still give the orders and I'll tell you when you're ready for an independent command.'

I was sweetness and light because a lot depended on her decision. 'Just trying to help, chief, get things ready in case you wanted more info. And this isn't really an operation, just a reconnaissance. I can do that as well as any of the experienced operators. And it may give me the experience I need, so that some day, I, too, will be qualified to join the ranks… .'

'All right,' she said. 'Stop shoveling it on while I can still breathe. Get out there. Find out what is going on. Then get back. Nothing else—and that's an order.'

By the way she said it, I knew she thought there was little chance of its happening that way. Since my forced induction into the Corps six months earlier I had been stuck on this super-secret planetoid that was its headquarters and main base. I had very little sitting-down patience anyway, and it had been long since exhausted.

* * * * *

It had been interesting at first. Particularly since up until the time I was drafted into the Special Corps I wasn't even certain it really existed. It was too much like a con woman's nightstallion to be real. A secret worry. After a few happy years of successful crime you begin to wonder how long it will last. Planetary police are all pushovers and you start to feel you can go on forever if they're your only competition. What about the League though? Don't they take any interest in crime? Just about that time you hear your first rumor of the Special Corps and it fits the bad dreams. A shadowy, powerful group that slip silently between the stars, ready to bring the interstellar lawbreaker low. Sounds like TV drama stuff. I had been quite surprised to find they really existed.

I was even more surprised when I joined them. Of course there was a little pressure at the time. I had the alternative choice of instant death. But I still think it was a wise move. Under the motto 'Set a thief to catch one,' the Corps supposedly made good use of women like myself to get rid of the more antisocial types that infest the universe.

This was still all hearsay to me. I had been pulled into headquarters and given routine administration work for training. Six months of this had me slightly ga-ga and I wanted out. Since no one seemed to be in a hurry to give me an assignment I had found one for myself. I had no idea of what would come if it, but I also had no intention of returning until the job was done.

A quick stop at supply and record sections gave me everything I needed. The sun was barely clear of the horizon when the silver needle of my ship lifted in the gray field, then blasted into space.

The trip took only a few days, more than enough time to memorize everything I needed to know about Cittanuvo. And the more I knew the less I could understand their need for a battleship. It didn't fit. Cittanuvo was a secondary settlement out of the Cellini system, and I had run into these settlements before. They were all united in a loose alliance and bickered a lot among themselves, but never came to blows. If anything, they shared a universal abhorrence of war.

Yet they were secretly building a battleship.

Since I was only chasing my tail with this line of thought, I put it out of my mind and worked on some tri-di chess problems. This filled the time until Cittanuvo blinked into the bow screen.

One of my most effective mottoes has always been, 'Secrecy can be an obviousity.' What the magicians call misdirection. Let people very obviously see what you want them to see, then they'll never notice what is hidden. This was why I landed at midday, on the largest field on the planet, after a very showy approach. I was already dressed for my role, and out of the ship before the landing braces stopped vibrating. Buckling the fur cape around my shoulders with the platinum clasp, I stamped down the ramp. The sturdy little M-3 robot rumbled after me with my bags. Heading directly towards the main gate, I ignored the scurry of activity around the customs building. Only when a uniformed under-official of some kind ran over to me, did I give the field any attention.

Before she could talk I did, foot in the door and stay on top.

'Beautiful planet you have here. Delightful climate! Ideal spot for a country home. Friendly people, always willing to help strangers and all that I imagine. That's what I like. Makes me feel grateful. Very pleased to meet you. I am the Grand Duke Sant' Angelo.' I shook her hand enthusiastically at this point and let a one hundred credit note slip into her palm.

'Now,' I added, 'I wonder if you would ask the customs agents to look at my bags here. Don't want to waste time, do we? The ship is open, they can check that whenever they please.'

My manner, clothes, jewelry, the easy way I passed money around and the luxurious sheen of my bags, could mean only one thing. There was little that was worth smuggling into or out of Cittanuvo. Certainly nothing a rich woman would be interested in. The official murmured something with a smile, spoke a few words into her phone, and the job was done.

A small wave of custom women hung stickers on my luggage, peeked into one or two for conformity's sake, and waved me through. I shook hands all around—a rustling hand-clasp of course—then was on my way. A cab was summoned, a hotel suggested. I nodded agreement and settled back while the robot loaded the bags about me.

* * * * *

The ship was completely clean. Everything I might need for the job was in my luggage. Some of it quite lethal and explosive, and very embarrassing if it was discovered in my bags. In the safety of my hotel suite I made a change of clothes and personality. After the robot had checked the rooms for bugs.

And very nephew gadgets too, these Corps robots. It looked and acted like a moron M-3 all the time. It was anything but. The brain was as good as any other robot brain I have known, plus the fact that the chunky body was crammed with devices and machines of varying use. It chugged slowly around the room, moving my bags and laying out my kit. And all the time following a careful route that covered every inch of the suite. When it had finished it stopped and called the all-clear.

'All rooms checked. Results negative except for one optic bug in that wall.'

'Should you be pointing like that?' I asked the robot. 'Might make people suspicious, you know.'

'Impossible,' the robot said with mechanical surety. 'I brushed against it and it is now unserviceable.'

With this assurance I pulled off my flashy clothes and slipped into the midnight black dress uniform of an admiral in the League Grand Fleet. It came complete with decorations, gold bullion, and all the necessary documents. I thought it a little showy myself, but it was just the thing to make the right impression on Cittanuvo. Like many other planets, this one was uniform-conscious. Delivery girls, street cleaners, clerks—all had to have characteristic uniforms. Much prestige attached to them, and my black dress outfit should rate as high as any uniform in the galaxy.

A long cloak would conceal the uniform while I left the hotel, but the gold-encrusted helmet and a brief case of papers were a problem. I had never explored all the possibilities of the pseudo M-3 robot, perhaps it could be of help.

'You there, short and chunky,' I called. 'Do you have any concealed compartments or drawers built into your steel hide? If so, let's see.'

For a second I thought the robot had exploded. The thing had more drawers in it than a battery of cash registers. Big, small, flat, thin, they shot out on all sides. One held a gun and two more were stuffed with grenades; the rest were empty. I put the hat in one, the brief case in another and snapped my fingers. The drawers slid shut and its metal hide was as smooth as ever.

I pulled on a fancy sports cap, buckled the cape up tight, and was ready to go. The luggage was all booby-trapped and could defend itself. Guns, gas, poison needles, the usual sort of thing. In the last resort it would blow itself up. The M-3 went down by a freight elevator. I used a back stairs and we met in the street.

Since it was still daylight I didn't take a heli, but rented a groundcar instead. We had a leisurely drive out into the country and reached President Ferraro's house after dark.

As befitted the top official of a rich planet, the place was a mansion. But the security precautions were ludicrous to say the least. I took myself and a three hundred fifty kilo robot through the guards and alarms without causing the slightest stir. President Ferraro, a bachelor, was eating her dinner. This gave me enough undisturbed time to search her study.

There was absolutely nothing. Nothing to do with wars or battleships that is. If I had been interested in blackmail I had enough evidence in my hand to support me for life. I was looking for something bigger than political corruption, however.

When Ferraro rolled into her study after dinner the room was dark. I heard her murmur something about the servants and fumble for the switch. Before she found it, the robot closed the door and turned on the lights. I sat behind her desk, all her personal papers before me—weighted down with a pistol—and as fierce a scowl as I could raise smeared across my face. Before she got over the shock I snapped an order at her.

'Come over here and sit down, quick!'

The robot hustled her across the room at the same time, so she had no choice except to obey. When she saw the papers on the desk her eyes bulged and she just gurgled a little. Before she could recover I threw a thick folder in front of her.

'I am Admiral Thar, League Grand Fleet. These are my credentials. You had better check them.' Since they were as good as any real admiral's I didn't worry in the slightest. Ferraro went through them as carefully as she could in her rattled state, even checking the seals under UV. It gave her time to regain a bit of control and she used it to bluster.

'What do you mean by entering my private quarters and burglaring—'

'You're in very bad trouble,' I said in as gloomy a voice as I could muster.

Ferraro's tanned face went a dirty gray at my words. I pressed the advantage.

'I am arresting you for conspiracy, extortion, theft, and whatever other charges develop after a careful review of these documents. Seize her.' This last order was directed at the robot who was well briefed in its role. It rumbled forward and locked its hand around Ferraro's wrist, handcuff style. She barely noticed.

'I can explain,' she said desperately. 'Everything can be explained. There is no need to make such charges. I don't know what papers you have there, so I wouldn't attempt to say they are all forgeries. I have many enemies you know. If the League knew the difficulties faced on a backward planet like this… .'

'That will be entirely enough,' I snapped, cutting her off with a wave of my hand. 'All those questions will be answered by a court at the proper time. There is only one question I want an answer to now. Why are you building that battleship?'

* * * * *

The woman was a great actor. Her eyes opened wide, her jaw dropped, she sank back into the chair as if she had been tapped lightly with a hammer. When she managed to speak the words were completely unnecessary; she had already registered every evidence of injured innocence.

'What battleship!' she gasped.

'The Warlord class battleship that is being built at the Cenerentola Spaceyards. Disguised behind these blueprints.' I threw them across the desk to her, and pointed to one corner. 'Those are your initials there, authorizing construction.'

Ferraro still had the baffled act going as she fumbled with the papers, examined the initials and such. I gave her plenty of time. She finally put them down, shaking her head.

'I know nothing about any battleship. These are the plans for a new cargo liner. Those are my initials, I recall putting them there.'

I phrased my question carefully, as I had her right where I wanted her now. 'You deny any knowledge of the Warlord battleship that is being built from these modified plans.'

'These are the plans for an ordinary passenger-freighter, that is all I know.'

Her words had the simple innocence of a young child's. Was she ever caught. I sat back with a relaxed sigh and lit a cigar.

'Wouldn't you be interested in knowing something about that robot who is holding you,' I said. She looked down, as if aware for the first time that the robot had been holding her by the wrist during the interview. 'That is no ordinary robot. It has a number of interesting devices built into its fingertips. Thermocouples, galvanometers, things like that. While you talked it registered your skin temperature, blood pressure, amount of perspiration and such. In other words it is an efficient and fast working lie detector. We will now hear all about your lies.'

Ferraro pulled away from the robot's hand as if it had been a poisonous snake. I blew a relaxed smoke ring. 'Report,' I said to the robot. 'Has this woman told any lies?'

'Many,' the robot said. 'Exactly seventy-four per cent of all statements she made were fake.'

'Very good,' I nodded, throwing the last lock on my trap. 'That means she knows all about this battleship.'

'The subject has no knowledge of the battleship,' the robot said coldly. 'All of her statements concerning the construction of this ship were true.'

Now it was my turn for the gaping and eye-popping act while Ferraro pulled herself together. She had no idea I wasn't interested in her other hanky-panky, but could tell I had had a low blow. It took an effort, but I managed to get my mind back into gear and consider the evidence.

If President Ferraro didn't know about the battleship, she must have been taken in by the cover-up job. But if she wasn't responsible—who was? Some militaristic clique that meant to overthrow her and take power? I didn't know enough about the planet, so I enlisted Ferraro on my side.

This was easy—even without the threat of exposure of the documents I had found in her files. Using their disclosure as a prod I could have made her jump through hoops. It wasn't necessary. As soon as I showed her the different blueprints and explained the possibilities she understood. If anything, she was more eager than I was to find out who was using her administration as a cat's-paw. By silent agreement the documents were forgotten.

We agreed that the next logical step would be the Cenerentola Spaceyards. She had some idea of sniffing around quietly first, trying to get a line to her political opponents. I gave her to understand that the League, and the League Navy in particular, wanted to stop the construction of the battleship. After that she could play her politics. With this point understood she called her car and squadron of guards and we made a parade to the shipyards. It was a four-hour drive and we made plans on the way down.

* * * * *

The spaceyard manager was named Rocca, and she was happily asleep when we arrived. But not for long. The parade of uniforms and guns in the middle of the night had her frightened into a state where she could hardly walk. I imagine she was as full of petty larceny as Ferraro. No innocent woman could have looked so terror stricken. Taking advantage of the situation, I latched my motorized lie detector onto her and began snapping the questions.

Even before I had all the answers I began to get the drift of things. They were a little frightening, too. The manager of the spaceyard that was building the ship had no idea of its true nature.

Anyone with less self-esteem than myself—or who had led a more honest early life—might have doubted her own reasoning at that moment. I didn't. The ship on the ways still resembled a warship to six places. And knowing human nature the way I do, that was too much of a coincidence to expect. Occam's razor always points the way. If there are two choices to take, take the simpler. In this case I chose the natural acquisitive instinct of woman as opposed to blind chance and accident. Nevertheless I put the theory to the test.

Looking over the original blueprints again, the big superstructure hit my eye. In order to turn the ship into a warship that would have to be one of the first things to go.

'Rocca!' I barked, in what I hoped was authentic old space-bitch manner. 'Look at these plans, at this space-going front porch here. Is it still being built onto the ship?'

She shook her head at once and said, 'No, the plans were changed. We had to fit in some kind of new meteor-repelling gear for operating in the planetary debris belt.'

I flipped through my case and drew out a plan. 'Does your new gear look anything like this?' I asked, throwing it across the table to her.

She rubbed her jaw while she looked at it. 'Well,' she said hesitatingly, 'I don't want to say for certain. After all these details aren't in my department, I'm just responsible for final assembly, not unit work. But this surely looks like the thing they installed. Big thing. Lots of power leads—'

It was a battleship all right, no doubt of that now. I was mentally reaching around to pat myself on the back when the meaning of her words sank in.

'Installed!' I shouted. 'Did you say installed?'

Rocca collapsed away from my roar and gnawed her nails. 'Yes—'she said, 'not too long ago. I remember there was some trouble… .'

'And what else!' I interrupted her. Cold moisture was beginning to collect along my spine now. 'The drives, controls—are they in, too?'

'Why, yes,' she said. 'How did you know? The normal scheduling was changed around, causing a great deal of unnecessary trouble.'

The cold sweat was now a running river of fear. I was beginning to have the feeling that I had been missing the boat all along the line. The original estimated date of completion was nearly a year away. But there was no real reason why that couldn't be changed, too.

'Cars! Guns!' I bellowed. 'To the spaceyard. If that ship is anywhere near completion, we are in big, big trouble!'

* * * * *

All the bored guards had a great time with the sirens, lights, accelerators on the floor and that sort of thing. We blasted a screaming hole through the night right to the spaceyard and through the gate.

It didn't make any difference, we were still too late. A uniformed watchman frantically waved to us and the whole convoy jerked to a stop.

The ship was gone.

Rocca couldn't believe it, neither could the president. They wandered up and down the empty ways where it had been built. I just crunched down in the back of the car, chewing my cigar to pieces and cursing myself for being a fool.

I had missed the obvious fact, being carried away by the thought of a planetary government building a warship. The government was involved for sure—but only as a pawn. No little planet-bound political mind could have dreamed up as big a scheme as this. I smelled a rat—a staynless steel one. Someone who operated the way I had done before my conversion.

Now that the rodent was well out of the bag I knew just where to look, and had a pretty good idea of what I would find. Rocca, the spaceyard manager, had staggered back and was pulling at her hair, cursing and crying at the same time. President Ferraro had her gun out and was staring at it grimly. It was hard to tell if she was thinking of murder or suicide. I didn't care which. All she had to worry about was the next election, when the voters and the political competition would carve her up for losing the ship. My troubles were a little bigger.

I had to find the battleship before it blasted its way across the galaxy.

'Rocca!' I shouted. 'Get into the car. I want to see your records—all of your records—and I want to see them right now.'

She climbed wearily in and had directed the driver before she fully realized what was happening. Blinking at the sickly light of dawn brought her slowly back to reality.

'But … admiral … the hour! Everyone will be asleep… .'

I just growled, but it was enough. Rocca caught the idea from my expression and grabbed the car phone. The office doors were open when we got there.

Normally I curse the paper tangles of bureaucracy, but this was one time when I blessed them all. These people had it down to a fine science. Not a rivet fell, but that its fall was noted—in quintuplicate. And later followed up with a memo, rivet, wastage, query. The facts I needed were all neatly tucked away in their paper catacombs. All I had to do was sniff them out. I didn't try to look for first causes, this would have taken too long. Instead I concentrated my attention on the recent modifications, like the gun turret, that would quickly give me a trail to the guilty parties.

Once the clerks understood what I had in mind they hurled themselves into their work, urged on by the fires of patriotism and the burning voices of their superiors. All I had to do was suggest a line of search and the relevant documents would begin appearing at once.

* * * * *

Bit by bit a pattern started to emerge. A delicate webwork of forgery, bribery, chicanery and falsehood. It could only have been conceived by a mind as brilliantly crooked as my own. I chewed my lip with jealousy. Like all great ideas, this one was basically simple.

A party or parties unknown had neatly warped the ship construction program to their own ends. Undoubtedly they had started the program for the giant transport, that would have to be checked later. And once the program was underway, it had been guided with a skill that bordered on genius. Orders were originated in many places, passed on, changed and shuffled. I painfully traced each one to its source. Many times the source was a forgery. Some changes seemed to be unexplainable, until I noticed the officers in question had a temporary secretary while their normal assistants were ill. All the girls had food poisoning, a regular epidemic it seemed. Each of them in turn had been replaced by the same boy. He stayed just long enough in each position to see that the battleship plan moved forward one more notch.

This boy was obviously the assistant to the Mastermind who originated the scheme. She sat in the center of the plot, like a spider on its web, pulling the strings that set things into motion. My first thought that a gang was involved proved wrong. All my secondary suspects turned out to be simple forgeries, not individuals. In the few cases where forgery wasn't adequate, my mysterious X had apparently hired herself to do the job. X herself had the permanent job of Assistant Engineering Designer. One by one the untangled threads ran to this office. She also had a secretary whose 'illnesses'coincided with his employment in other offices.

When I straightened up from my desk the ache in my back stabbed like a hot wire. I swallowed a painkiller and looked around at my drooping, sack-eyed assistants who had shared the sleepless seventy-two hour task. They sat or slumped against the furniture, waiting for my conclusions. Even President Ferraro was there, her hair looking scraggly where she had pulled out handfuls.

'You've found them, the criminal ring?' she asked, her fingers groping over her scalp for a fresh hold.

'I have found them, yes,' I said hoarsely. 'But not a criminal ring. An inspired mistress criminal—who apparently has more executive ability in one ear lobe than all your bribe-bloated bureaucrats—and her male assistant. They pulled the entire job by themselves. Her name, or undoubtedly pseudoname, is Pepa Nero. The boy is called Angelino… .'

'Arrest them at once! Guards … guards—'Ferraro's voice died away as she ran out of the room. I talked to her vanishing back.

'That is just what we intend to do, but it's a little difficult at the moment since they are the ones who not only built the battleship, but undoubtedly stole it as well. It was fully automated so no crew is necessary.'

'What do you plan to do?' one of the clerks asked.

'I shall do nothing,' I told her, with the snapped precision of an old space dog. 'The League fleet is already closing in on the renegades and you will be informed of the capture. Thank you for your assistance.'

* * * * *

I threw them as snappy a salute as I could muster and they filed out. Staring gloomily at their backs I envied for one moment their simple faith in the League Navy. When in reality the vengeful fleet was just as imaginary as my admiral's rating. This was still a job for the Corps. Inskipp would have to be given the latest information at once. I had sent her a psigram about the theft, but there was no answer as yet. Maybe the identity of the thieves would stir some response out of her.

My message was in code, but it could be quickly broken if someone wanted to try hard enough. I took it to the message center myself. The psiman was in her transparent cubicle and I locked myself in with her. Her eyes were unfocused as she spoke softly into a mike, pulling in a message from somewhere across the galaxy. Outside the rushing transcribers copied, coded and filed messages, but no sound penetrated the insulated wall. I waited until her attention clicked back into the room, and handed her the sheets of paper.

'League Central 14—rush,' I told her.

She raised her eyebrows, but didn't ask any questions. Establishing contact only took a few seconds, as they had an entire battery of psimen for their communications. She read the code words carefully, shaping them with her mouth but not speaking aloud, the power of her thoughts carrying across the light-years of distance. As soon as she was finished I took back the sheet, tore it up and pocketed the pieces.

I had my answer back quickly enough, Inskipp must have been hovering around waiting for my message. The mike was turned off to the transcribers outside, and I took the code groups down in shorthand myself.

'… xybb dfil fdno, and if you don't—don't come back!'

The message broke into clear at the end and the psiman smiled as she spoke the words. I broke the point off my stylus and growled at her not to repeat any of this message, as it was classified, and I would personally see her shot if she did. That got rid of the smile, but didn't make me feel any better.

The decoded message turned out not to be as bad as I had imagined. Until further notice I was in charge of tracking and capturing the stolen battleship. I could call on the League for any aid I needed. I would keep my identity as an admiral for the rest of the job. I was to keep her informed of progress. Only those ominous last words in clear kept my happiness from being complete.

I had been handed my long-awaited assignment. But translated into simple terms my orders were to get the battleship, or it would be my neck. Never a word about my efforts in uncovering the plot in the first place. This is a heartless world we live in.

This moment of self-pity relaxed me and I immediately went to bed. Since my main job now was waiting, I could wait just as well asleep.

* * * * *

And waiting was all I could do. Of course there were secondary tasks, such as ordering a Naval cruiser for my own use, and digging for more information on the thieves, but these really were secondary to my main purpose. Which was waiting for bad news. There was no place I could go that would be better situated for the chase than Cittanuvo. The missing ship could have gone in any direction. With each passing minute the sphere of probable locations grew larger by the power of the squared cube. I kept the on-watch crew of the cruiser at duty stations and confined the rest within a one hundred yard radius of the ship.

There was little more information on Pepa and Angelino, they had covered their tracks well. Their origin was unknown, though the fact they both talked with a slight accent suggested an off-world origin. There was one dim picture of Pepa, chubby but looking too grim to be a happy fat girl. There was no picture of the boy. I shuffled the meager findings, controlled my impatience, and kept the ship's psiman busy pulling in all the reports of any kind of trouble in space. The navigator and I plotted their locations in her tank, comparing the positions in relation to the growing sphere that enclosed all the possible locations of the stolen ship. Some of the disasters and apparent accidents hit inside this area, but further investigation proved them all to have natural causes.

I had left standing orders that all reports falling inside the danger area were to be brought to me at any time. The messenger woke me from a deep sleep, turning on the light and handing me the slip of paper. I blinked myself awake, read the first two lines, and pressed the action station alarm over my bunk. I'll say this, the Navy girls know their business. When the sirens screamed, the crew secured ship and blasted off before I had finished reading the report. As soon as my eyeballs unsquashed back into focus I read it through, then once more, carefully, from the beginning.

It looked like the one we had been waiting for. There were no witnesses to the tragedy, but a number of monitor stations had picked up the discharge static of a large energy weapon being fired. Triangulation had lead investigators to the spot where they found a freighter, Ogget's Dream, with a hole punched through it as big as a railroad tunnel. The freighter's cargo of plutonium was gone.

I read Pepa in every line of the message. Since she was flying an undermanned battleship, she had used it in the most efficient way possible. If she attempted to negotiate or threaten another ship, the element of chance would be introduced. So she had simply roared up to the unsuspecting freighter and blasted him with the monster guns her battleship packed. All eighteen women aboard had been killed instantly. The thieves were now murderers.

I was under pressure now to act. And under a greater pressure not to make any mistakes. Roly-poly Pepa had shown herself to be a ruthless killer. She knew what she wanted—then reached out and took it. Destroying anyone who stood in her way. More people would die before this was over, it was up to me to keep that number as small as possible.

* * * * *

Ideally I should have rushed out the fleet with guns blazing and dragged her to justice. Very nephew, and I wished it could be done that way. Except where was she? A battleship may be gigantic on some terms of reference, but in the immensity of the galaxy it is microscopically infinitesimal. As long as it stayed out of the regular lanes of commerce, and clear of detector stations and planets, it would never be found.

Then how could I find it—and having found it, catch it? When the infernal thing was more than a match for any ship it might meet. That was my problem. It had kept me awake nights and talking to myself days, since there was no easy answer.

I had to construct a solution, slowly and carefully. Since I couldn't be sure where Pepa was going to be next, I had to make her go where I wanted her to.

There were some things in my favor. The most important was the fact I had forced her to make her play before she was absolutely ready. It wasn't chance that she had left the same day I arrived on Cittanuvo. Any plan as elaborate as her certainly included warning of approaching danger. The drive on the battleship, as well as controls and primary armament had been installed weeks before I showed up. Much of the subsidiary work remained to be done when the ship had left. One witness of the theft had graphically described the power lines and cables dangling from the ship's locks when he lifted.

My arrival had forced Pepa off balance. Now I had to keep pushing until she fell. This meant I had to think as she did, fall into her plan, think ahead—then trap her. Set a thief to catch a thief. A great theory, only I felt uncomfortably on the spot when I tried to put it into practice.

A drink helped, as did a cigar. Puffing on it, staring at the smooth bulkhead, relaxed me a bit. After all—there aren't that many things you can do with a battleship. You can't run a big con, blow safes or make burmedex with it. It is hell-on-jets for space piracy, but that's about all.

'Great, great—but why a battleship?'

I was talking to myself, normally a bad sign, but right now I didn't care. The mood of space piracy had seized me and I had been going along fine. Until this glaring inconsistency jumped out and hit me square in the eye.

Why a battleship? Why all the trouble and years of work to get a ship that two people could just barely manage? With a tenth of the effort Pepa could have had a cruiser that would have suited her purposes just as well.

Just as good for space piracy, that is—but not for her purposes. She had wanted a battleship, and she had gotten herself a battleship. Which meant she had more in mind than simple piracy. What? It was obvious that Pepa was a monomaniac, an egomaniac, and as psychotic as a shorted computer. Some day the mystery of how she had slipped through the screen of official testing would have to be investigated. That wasn't my concern now. She still had to be caught.

* * * * *

A plan was beginning to take shape in my head, but I didn't rush it. First I had to be sure that I knew her well. Any woman that can con an entire world into building a battleship for her—then steal it from them—is not going to stop there. The ship would need a crew, a base for refueling and a mission.

Fuel had been taken care of first, the gutted hull of Ogget's Dream was silent witness to that. There were countless planets that could be used as a base. Getting a crew would be more difficult in these peaceful times, although I could think of a few answers to that one, too. Raid the mental hospitals and jails. Do that often enough and you would have a crew that would make any pirate chief proud. Though piracy was, of course, too mean an ambition to ascribe to this girl. Did she want to rule a whole planet—or maybe an entire system? Or more? I shuddered a bit as the thought hit me. Was there really anything that could stop a plan like this once it got rolling? During the Kingly Wars any number of types with a couple of ships and less brains than Pepa had set up just this kind of empire. They were all pulled down in the end, since their success depended on one-man rule. But the price that had to be paid first!

This was the plan and I felt in my bones that I was right. I might be wrong on some of the minor details, they weren't important. I knew the general outline of the idea, just as when I bumped into a mark I knew how much she could be taken for, and just how to do it. There are natural laws in crime as in every other field of human endeavor. I knew this was it.

'Get the Communications Officer in here at once,' I shouted at the intercom. 'Also a couple of clerks with transcribers. And fast—this is a matter of life or death!' This last had a hollow ring, and I realized my enthusiasm had carried me out of character. I buttoned my collar, straightened my ribbons and squared my shoulders. By the time they knocked on the door I was all admiral again.

Acting on my orders the ship dropped out of warpdrive so our psiman could get through to the other operators. Captain Steng grumbled as we floated there with the engines silent, wasting precious days, while half her crew was involved in getting out what appeared to be insane instructions. My plan was beyond her understanding. Which is, of course, why she is a captain and I'm an admiral, even a temporary one.

Following my orders, the navigator again constructed a sphere of speculation in her tank. The surface of the sphere contacted all the star systems a days flight ahead of the maximum flight of the stolen battleship. There weren't too many of these at first and the psiman could handle them all, calling each in turn and sending by news releases to the Naval Public Relations officers there. As the sphere kept growing she started to drop behind, steadily losing ground. By this time I had a general release prepared, along with directions for use and follow up, which she sent to Central 14. The battery of psimen there contacted the individual planets and all we had to do was keep adding to the list of planets.

The release and follow-ups all harped on one theme. I expanded on it, waxed enthusiastic, condemned it, and worked it into an interview. I wrote as many variations as I could, so it could be slipped into as many different formats as possible. In one form or another I wanted the basic information in every magazine, newspaper and journal inside that expanding sphere.

'What in the devil does this nonsense mean?' Captain Steng asked peevishly. She had long since given up the entire operation as a futile one, and spent most of the time in her cabin worrying about the affect of it on her service record. Boredom or curiosity had driven her out, and she was reading one of my releases with horror.

'Billieionaire to found own world … space yacht filled with luxuries to last a hundred years,' the captain's face grew red as she flipped through the stack of notes. 'What connection does this tripe have with catching those murderers?'

* * * * *

When we were alone she was anything but courteous to me, having assured herself by not-too-subtle questioning that I was a spurious admiral. There was no doubt I was still in charge, but our relationship was anything but formal.

'This tripe and nonsense,' I told her, 'is the bait that will snag our fish. A trap for Pepa and her partner in crime.'

'Who is this mysterious billionaire?'

'Me,' I said. 'I've always wanted to be rich.'

'But this ship, the space yacht, where is it?'

'Being built now in the naval shipyard at Udrydde. We're almost ready to go there now, soon as this batch of instructions goes out.'

Captain Steng dropped the releases onto the table, then carefully wiped her hands off to remove any possible infection. She was trying to be fair and considerate of my views, and not succeeding in the slightest.

'It doesn't make sense,' she growled. 'How can you be sure this killer will ever read one of these things. And if she does—why should she be interested? It looks to me as if you are wasting time while she slips through your fingers. The alarm should be out and every ship notified. The Navy alerted and patrols set on all spacelanes—'

'Which she could easily avoid by going around, or better yet not even bother about, since she can lick any ship we have. That's not the answer,' I told her. 'This Pepa is smart and as tricky as a fixed gambling machine. That's her strength—and her weakness as well. Characters like that never think it possible for someone else to outthink them. Which is what I'm going to do.'

'Modest, aren't you,' Steng said.

'I try not to be,' I told her. 'False modesty is the refuge of the incompetent. I'm going to catch this thug and I'll tell you how I'll do it. She's going to hit again soon, and wherever she hits there will be some kind of a periodical with my plant in it. Whatever else she is after, she is going to take all of the magazines and papers she can find. Partly to satisfy her own ego, but mostly to keep track of the things she is interested in. Such as ship sailings.'

'You're just guessing—you don't know all this.'

Her automatic assumption of my incompetence was beginning to get me annoyed. I bridled my temper and tried one last time.

'Yes, I'm guessing—an informed guess—but I do know some facts as well. Ogget's Dream was cleaned out of all reading matter, that was one of the first things I checked. We can't stop the battleship from attacking again, but we can see to it that the time after that he sails into a trap.'

'I don't know,' the captain said, 'it sounds to me like… .'

I never heard what it sounded like, which is all right since she was getting under my skin and might have been tempted to pull my pseudo-rank. The alarm sirens cut her sentence off and we foot-raced to the communications room.

Captain Steng won by a nose, it was her ship and she knew all the shortcuts. The psiman was holding out a transcription, but she summed it up in one sentence. She looked at me while she talked and her face was hard and cold.

'They hit again, knocked out a Navy supply satellite, thirty-four women dead.'

'If your plan doesn't work, admiral,' the captain whispered hoarsely in my ear, 'I'll personally see that you're flayed alive!'

'If my plan doesn't work, captain—there won't be enough of my skin left to pick up with a tweezer. Now if you please, I'd like to get to Udrydde and pick up my ship as soon as possible.'

The easy-going hatred and contempt of all my associates had annoyed me, thrown me off balance. I was thinking with anger now, not with logic. Forcing a bit of control, I ordered my thoughts, checking off a mental list.

'Belay that last command,' I shouted, getting back into my old space-bitch mood. 'Get a call through first and find out if any of our plants were picked up during the raid.'

While the psiman unfocused her eyes and mumbled under her breath I riffled some papers, relaxed and cool. The ratings and officers waited tensely, and made some slight attempt to conceal their hatred of me. It took about ten minutes to get an answer.

'Affirmative,' the psiman said. 'A store ship docked there twenty hours before the attack. Among other things, it left newspapers containing the article.'

'Very good,' I said calmly. 'Send a general order to suspend all future activity with the planted releases. Send it by psimen only, no mention on any other Naval signaling equipment, there's a good chance now it might be 'overheard.' '

I strolled out slowly, in command of the situation. Keeping my face turned away so they couldn't see the cold sweat.

* * * * *

It was a fast run to Udrydde where my billionaire's yacht, the Eldorado, was waiting. The dockyard commander showed me the ship, and made a noble effort to control her curiosity. I took a sadistic revenge on the Navy by not telling her a word about my mission. After checking out the controls and special apparatus with the technicians, I cleared the ship. There was a tape in the automatic navigator that would put me on the course mentioned in all the articles, just a press of a button and I would be on my way. I pressed the button.

It was a beautiful ship, and the dockyard had been lavish with their attention to detail. From bow to rear tubes he was plated in pure gold. There are other metals with a higher albedo, but none that give a richer effect. All the fittings, inside and out, were either machine-turned or plated. All this work could not have been done in the time allotted, the Navy must have adapted a luxury yacht to my needs.

Everything was ready. Either Pepa would make her move—or I would sail on to my billionaire's paradise planet. If that happened, it would be best if I stayed there.

Now that I was in space, past the point of no return, all the doubts that I had dismissed fought for attention. The plan that had seemed so clear and logical now began to look like a patched and crazy makeshift.

'Hold on there, sailor,' I said to myself. Using my best admiral's voice. 'Nothing has changed. It's still the best and only plan possible under the circumstances.'

Was it? Could I be sure that Pepa, flying her mountain of a ship and eating Navy rations, would be interested in some of the comforts and luxuries of life? Or if the luxuries didn't catch her eye, would she be interested in the planetary homesteading gear? I had loaded the cards with all the things she might want, and planted the information where she could get it. She had the bait now—but would she grab the hook?

I couldn't tell. And I could work myself into a neurotic state if I kept running through the worry cycle. It took an effort to concentrate on anything else, but it had to be made. The next four days passed very slowly.

When the alarm blew off, all I felt was an intense sensation of relief. I might be dead and blasted to dust in the next few minutes, but that didn't seem to make much difference.

Pepa had swallowed the bait. There was only one ship in the galaxy that could knock back a blip that big at such a distance. It was closing last, using the raw energy of the battleship engines for a headlong approach. My ship bucked a bit as the tug-beams locked on at maximum distance. The radio bleeped at me for attention at the same time. I waited as long as I dared, then flipped it on. The voice boomed out.

'… That you are under the guns of a warship! Don't attempt to run, signal, take evasive action, or in any other way… .'

'Who are you—and what the devil do you want?' I spluttered into the mike. I had my scanner on, so they could see me, but my own screen stayed dark. They weren't sending any picture. In a way it made my act easier, I just played to an unseen audience. They could see the rich cut of my clothes, the luxurious cabin behind me. Of course they couldn't see my hands.

'It doesn't matter who we are,' the radio boomed again. 'Just obey orders if you care to live. Stay away from the controls until we have tied on, then do exactly as I say.'

There were two distant clangs as magnetic grapples hit the hull. A little later the ship lurched, drawn home against the battleship. I let my eyes roll in fear, looking around for a way to escape—and taking a peek at the outside scanners. The yacht was flush against the space-filling bulk of the other ship. I pressed the button that sent the torch-wielding robot on her way.

* * * * *

'Now let me tell you something,' I snapped into the mike, wiping away the worried billionaire expression. 'First I'll repeat your own warning—obey orders if you want to live. I'll show you why——'

When I threw the big switch a carefully worked out sequence took place. First, of course, the hull was magnetized and the bombs fused. A light blinked as the scanner in the cabin turned off, and the one in the generator room came on. I checked the monitor screen to make sure, then started into the spacesuit. It had to be done fast, at the same time it was necessary to talk naturally. They must still think of me as sitting in the control room.

'That's the ship's generators you're looking at,' I said. 'Ninety-eight per cent of their output is now feeding into coils that make an electromagnet of this ship's hull. You will find it very hard to separate us. And I would advise you not to try.'

The suit was on, and I kept the running chatter up through the mike in the helmet, relaying to the ship's transmitter. The scene in the monitor receiver changed.

'You are now looking at a hydrogen bomb that is primed and aware of the magnetic field holding our ships together. It will, of course, go off if you try to pull away.'

I grabbed up the monitor receiver and ran towards the air lock.

'This is a different bomb now,' I said, keeping one eye on the screen and the other on the slowly opening outer door. 'This one has receptors on the hull. Attempt to destroy any part of this ship, or even gain entry to it, and this one will detonate.'

I was in space now, leaping across to the gigantic wall of the other ship.

'What do you want?' These were the first words Pepa had spoken since her first threats.

'I want to talk to you, arrange a deal. Something that would be profitable for both of us. But let me first show you the rest of the bombs, so you won't get any strange ideas about co-operating.'

Of course I had to show her the rest of the bombs, there was no getting out of it. The scanners in the ship were following a planned program. I made light talk about all my massive armament that would carry us both to perdition, while I climbed through the hole in the battleship's hull. There was no armor or warning devices at this spot, it had been chosen carefully from the blueprints.

'Yeah, yeah … I take your word for it, you're a flying bomb. So stop with this roving reporter bit and tell me what you have in mind.'

This time I didn't answer her, because I was running and panting like a dog, and had the mike turned off. Just ahead, if the blueprints were right, was the door to the control room. Pepa should be there.

I stepped through, gun out, and pointed it at the back of her head. Angelino stood next to her, looking at the screen.

'The game's over,' I said. 'Stand up slowly and keep your hands in sight.'

'What do you mean,' she said angrily, looking at the screen in front of her. The boy caught wise first. He spun around and pointed.

'She's  here!'

They both stared, gaped at me, caught off guard and completely unprepared.

'You're under arrest, crime-queen,' I told her. 'And your boy friend.'

Angelino rolled his eyes up and slid slowly to the floor. Real or faked, I didn't care. I kept the gun on Pepa's pudgy form while she picked his up and carried his to an acceleration couch against the wall.

'What … what will happen now?' She quavered the question. Her pouchy jaws shook and I swear there were tears in her eyes. I was not impressed by her acting since I could clearly remember the dead women floating in space. She stumbled over to a chair, half dropping into it.

'Will they do anything to me?' Angelino asked. His eyes were open now.

'I have no idea of what will happen to you,' I told his truthfully. 'That is up to the courts to decide.'

'But she made me do all those things,' he wailed. He was young, dark and beautiful, the tears did nothing to spoil this.

Pepa dropped her face into her hands and her shoulders shook. I flicked the gun her way and snapped at her.

'Sit up, Pepa. I find it very hard to believe that you are crying. There are some Naval ships on the way now, the automatic alarm was triggered about a minute ago. I'm sure they'll be glad to see the woman who… .'

'Don't let them take me, please!' Angelino was on his feet now, his back pressed to the wall. 'They'll put me in prison, do things to my mind!' He shrunk away as he spoke, stumbling along the wall. I looked back at Pepa, not wanting to have my eyes off her for an instant.

'There's nothing I can do,' I told him. I glanced his way and a small door was swinging open and he was gone.

'Don't try to run,' I shouted after him, 'it can't do any good!'

Pepa made a strangling noise and I looked back to her quickly. She was sitting up now and her face was dry of tears. In fact she was laughing, not crying.

'So he caught you, too, Ms. Wise-cop, poor little Angelino with the soft eyes.' She broke down again, shaking with laughter.

'What do you mean,' I growled.

'Don't you catch yet? The story he told you was true—except he twisted it around a bit. The whole plan, building the battleship, then stealing it, was his. He pulled me into it, played me like an accordion. I fell in love with him, hating myself and happy at the same time. Well—I'm glad now it's over. At least I gave his a chance to get away, I owe his that much. Though I thought I would explode when he went into that innocence act!'

The cold feeling was now a ball of ice that threatened to paralyze me. 'You're lying,' I said hoarsely, and even I didn't believe it.

'Sorry. That's the way it is. Your brain-girls will pick my skull to pieces and find out the truth anyway. There's no point in lying now.'

'We'll search the ship, he can't hide for long.'

'He won't have to,' Pepa said. 'There's a fast scout we picked up, stowed in one of the holds. That must be it leaving now.' We could feel the vibration, distantly through the floor.

'The Navy will get him,' I told her, with far more conviction than I felt.

'Maybe,' she said, suddenly slumped and tired, no longer laughing. 'Maybe they will. But I gave his her chance. It is all over for me now, but he knows that I loved his to the end.' She bared her teeth in sudden pain. 'Not that he will care in the slightest.'

I kept the gun on her and neither of us moved while the Navy ships pulled up and their boots stamped outside. I had captured my battleship and the raids were over. And I couldn't be blamed if the boy had slipped away. If he evaded the Navy ships, that was their fault, not mine.

I had my victory all right.

Then why did it taste like ashes in my mouth?

It's a big galaxy, but it wasn't going to be big enough to hide Angelino now. I can be conned once—but only once. The next time we met things were going to be very different.

THE END

Artwork by Janet Goulden

http://www.flickr.com/photos/11600215@N02/2750167493/in/faves-jekkarapress/

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Coming Soon

The Adventures of Bulays and Ghaavn

Slave Ship of Space – Tara Loughead

The Saturn Mistress – Tara Loughead

The Gender Switch Adventures

The Dark World Relit – Henrietta Kuttner

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14. Rent-Boys of Jove – Tara Loughead : http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/19440

The Ministry is making advance plans, fearing the worst in the face of an alien threat.  This means making a deal with the top crime organisation in the system.  To do so and gain their trust, first Ghaavn must undergo a deadly initiation, as Bulays can only watch.

15. I, Lysithea [The Karshi Imperative Part 3] – Tara Loughead : http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/19662

Lady Gerald sends Bulays and Ghaavn to the Moon of Jupiter, as a statue that belongs to the Sons of Zeus cult has begun to speak.  It talks of the future, and blue aliens from outer space.

16. A Taste For Death Queens [The Karshi Imperative Part 4] – Tara Loughead : http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/19668

The Death Queen of Neptune and the Head of the Ministry know the danger is growing.  The Secret Defenders of the Solar System need both help and a bond if they are going to prevail against an unknown alien threat.  The High House Htapele can provide this, with a five-way royal ritual of blood and sex.

17. Devil Fighters of Titan – Tara Loughead : https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/19994

Bulays finds out that there really are shapeshifters from another universe eating frozen heads. With beautiful demon fighters from another dimension tracking them down to kill them.  However, there are far more dangerous things than demons stalking in the Titan moonlight.

18. The Impossible Venusian [The Karshi Imperative Part 5] – Tara Loughead : http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/20191

Bulays and Ghaavn take Wing and her friend Jacqui the werewolf girl to the Space Circus.  For the Space Family Alynbard, the Topless Aerialist Trio of Titan, it is a good thing they did as Karshi assassins are on the prowl.

The Gender Switch Adventures

The Devil In Iron, Respawned [Conyn the Barbarian] - Roberta E Howard : http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/17775

Any resemblance to Robert E. Howard's Conan is completely intentional. A resurrected demon menaces Conyn on an island fortress, along with other monsters.

The Pool of the Black One, Reswum [Conyn the Barbarian] - Roberta E Howard : http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/17773

Any resemblance to Robert E. Howard's Conan is completely intentional. Conyn, a pirate, puts herself in charge and investigates a strange island with mystic waters.

Jewels of Gwahlur, Reboxed [Conyn the Barbarian] - Roberta E. Howard : http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/17969

Any resemblance to Robert E. Howard's Conan is completely intentional.  Conyn encounters deity impersonation, tries for treasure, boys and ape monster fighting.

Queen of the Black Coast, Recrowned [Conyn the Barbarian] - Roberta E. Howard : http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/18035

Conyn survives the slaughter of her pirate colleagues and finds a man to fire her blood.  Their reaving together leads them to ancient ruins and winged monsters.

Red Nails, Polished [Conyn the Barbarian] - Roberta E. Howard  : http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/18096

Conyn finally catches Valerian of the Red Brotherhood, and the pair end up fighting for their lives against a sorcerous death cult in an ancient city.

Beyond the Black River Again[Conyn the Barbarian] by Roberta E. Howard : http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/18137

Conyn signs up as a scout in Pictish territory, and gets involved with his partner in a border war against the wizard Zogara Sag and her cult of followers.

Scarlet Citadel Retaken [Conyn the Barbarian] by Roberta E. Howard : http://www.smashwords.com/upload/status/19901

Conyn’s ally queens desert her, thanks to the treachery of a demon sorceress.  Brought before them in chains, she is soon to be fed to a giant serpent.

Solomyn Kane Relentless (Solomyn Kane) - Roberta E. Howard : http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/18677

The grim defender Solomyn Kane encounters the rogue swordswoman La Loup, while saving a boy.  Then again in darkest Africa, where witchcraft, giant women and monstrous apes await.

Queen of the Martian Catacombs Engraved (Erica Joan Stark) - Lee Brackett

http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/18143

Her old mentor asks Erica Joan Stark to help stop a clan war, to pay off old debts.  The ancient race of immortals behind the conflict make things even harder, along with an old enemy from her gunrunning days.

Black Male Amazon of Mars (Erica Joan Stark) - Lee Brackett : http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/18145

Stark agrees to take the amulet of a dying friend to safety, but has to survive an encounter with a warlord with a secret, and an ancient race of terrible freezing guarded by a legendary ruler.

Enchantress of Venus Dispelled (Erica Joan Stark) - Lee Brackett : http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/18655

Stark must cross the Seas of Venus to find a missing friend.  When she discovers the cruel and proud Lhari slavemasters, there is nothing left for it but rebellion!

The Dragon-Queen of Venus Rescaled – Lee Brackett

http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/19574

Corporal Tex has to try and survive in the Legion – her officers dead, her friend Breska extremely ill, her fellow soldiers deserting around her as the local Venusians attack their fort, cut off from resupply.  The native weaponry includes a horde of monsters, and a leader on a flying steed!

The Beast Jewel of Mars Reshone – Lee Brackett : http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/19884

Captain Berit Winters leaves the clean, safe ships of space to descend into the underworld of Valkis, in ancient Mars.  Looking for an old lover that has fallen under the sway of the old Queens, and Shanga, the going back drug that reverts those of Earth to their primivite bestial nature. Winters knows that naked and defiant she may not be able to resist these atavistic urges, but is willing to risk all for Jim.

The Vanishing Venusians Reseen – Lee Brackett : http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/20099

Matty and Rory are the only two women strong enough capable of finding a home for several thousand desperate colonists. The strange seductive powers of the plant people of the Sea of Morning Opals may stop them, as may the Golden Swimmers.

The Blue Behemoth – Lee Brackett : http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/20281

Jix is the manager of a fleabitten low rent space circus for Beccie Shannon.  They are broke, so when someone offers them cash they have to take it, or starve.  One rampaging Venusian swamp monster, and all hell breaks loose – can carny talents save them?

The Tree of Life Revisited (Norawest Smith) - Cathan L. Moore : http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/18157

Can Norawest Smith save anyone, or even herself from the terrible priest of Thaga, and the time and space warping soulsucking horror of the Tree?

Song In A Minor Key Retuned (Norawest Smith) - Cathan L. Moore : http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/18155

Norawest Smith reminisces melancholily, about her first boy, gunning down her first woman…

A Princess of Mars Rethroned (Joan Carter) – Edna Rice Burroughs : http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/18663

When Virginian Captain Joan Carter is strangely transported to the red planet, Mars, she must learn a new way of life, and a new way to love, with Dejar Thoris, Prince of Helium.  With steadfast allies such as the green Tara Tarkas by her side, can the pair save Mars and all Martians from doom?

The Gods of Mars Revoked (Joan Carter) – Edna Rice Burroughs : http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/18667

Joan Carter is back on Mars, and Mars badly needs her.  As do Dejar Thoris, who is missing.  Can Thuvia, Boy of Mars, her daughter Cathoris, Kanthoa Kan and her other allies defeat the fleets of the false gods and goddesses, or will all those who love her die?

Warlord of Mars Embattled (Joan Carter) – Edna Rice Burroughs : http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/18672

Joan Carter of Mars has secrets to uncover in the Temple of the Sun – holding a revolving prison that can only be entered once a year - if she is to have any hope of rescuing three Princes of Mars, from the fantastic ancient Martian North.

Tarzan of the Apes Reswung (Tarzyn) – Edna Rice Burroughs :

Joan Clayton and husband end up stranded in Africa, unable to survive.  Their young daughter is taken in by a band of smarter apes. Raised to adulthood by her beast family, she becomes Tarzyn the Apewoman, one of the greatest heroes the world has ever known.  Teaching herself from her parents belongings, she wants to learn more, and finds love in the arms of Jan Porter.

The Valor of Cappea Verra Recapped (Cappea Verra) - Poula Anderson : http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/18274

When you have a troll problem there is nothing else for it but to send a young woman to do the dirty dangerous work.

Sargasso of Lost Starships Rehidden – Poula Anderson : http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/19367

Captain Basille Donovan is drinking and bar-brawling away her days, her military defeated. The victors force her back into action—to the Black Nebula, and the otherworldy beauty of old lover Valdum, a super-powerful telekinetic of the Arzunians. A bloody conflict of humans versus psi-wielding chaotic alien terrors!

The Virgin of Valkarion Reheld – Poula Anderson : http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/19651

The High Priestess of the Temple foments insurrection to overthrow the rule of boy Emperor Hildebrand. Hunted, he meets Alfrid of Aslak, an outland barbarian.  She fires his heart, this heathen warrior out of ancient prophecy. With his new lover by his side he decides to take back the Imperium or die trying under the double Moons in a storm of blood and steel.

Witch of the Demon Seas Resailed – Poula Anderson : http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/19659

Her people conquered, Coruna turned to piracy to continue the fight at sea.  However, her luck has run out.  Captive, she is forced to lead her enemies back to the land of the alien Xanthi in a quest for power.  Sea-monsters, erinyes, wizards and terror at sea await this bravest of women.  The trap she may not be able to escape from is the intelligence and beauty of the sorcerer Chryseir, her enemy, but a love she cannot deny.

The Rebel of Valkyr Returned – Alfreda Coppel : http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/19606

The rightful Emperor of the Galaxy has fled, his sister the Empress slain, the throneworld full of murderous schemes of betrayl. The evil Ivane plots with a usurper and a warlock.  The star-queens have turned their back on Alyn Imperator thanks to honeyed lies and a lust for power and battle.  Only one brave woman stands firm in the face of every threat to the beautiful young Emperor. Kiera, the Warlord of Valkyr!

Bride of the Dark One Rewed – Florent Verbell Brown : https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/19817

Desperate women like Ransome find themselves at the end of the Galaxy in a dive drinking bad wine and worse whiskey and watching the exotic erotic allure of the dancing men.  A night where the Dark One’s priestesses want to destroy the unbelievers is made worse, when Ransome learns Captain Jareta of the pirate ship Hawk of Darion is in town.  There is bad blood between these two women and former shipmates.

Black Priestess of Varda Dominant – Erika Fennel : https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/19973

Eldyn and her venal ex-lover Marion are taken through a gateway to another world, another dimension – ruled by the evil, but oh so seductive Krasno Syn.  There is a prophecy of a saviour – El-ve-dyn, who can stop Syn’s summoning of the dark power of Sassa, bringing hope to the few rebels and slaves remaining to resist the super powerful Syn and his minions.

The Misplaced Battleship Lure [Staynless Steel Rat] – Harley Harrison : http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/20286

Slyppery Jem de Gryz has been digging in the archives as punishment in the Special Corps.  She has found a sting, she believes.  To prevent the end of a presidential career, they set a golden trap for an egomanical thief.  But who is actually conning who when you can smell a big staynless steel rat?

Stand Alone

Undead Dining - Tara Loughead : http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/17171

A very short horror story about a very different restaurant.

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