Chapter 2

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 she 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
his 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 he pulled on his clothes he 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
his 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, he
pressed the scramble button on his 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. He hurled a folder the
length of the room and scowled out at the harsh dawn light.

“The more I look at this thing,” he 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 him.
“Ordered a fast courier ship. I’ll leave within the hour.”

“Aren’t you getting a little ahead of yourself, diGriz,” he 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 his 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,” he 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 he said it, I knew he 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 man’s nightmare 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.