RED KNIGHT
a STAR FRONTIERS Novel
by Layne K. Saltern
Something was missing.
Realizing what it was, I activated my chronocom.
Katrina answered. "What is it?"
"I haven't seen you for a while."
"Yeah. You've been ill."
"I'm up and around now. In fact, I'm calling you from the gardens. Care to join me?"
Someone else was trying to contact me on my chronocom. Couldn't they learn better timing?
"I'd like to," she said, "but I've really got a lot to do."
"Really? What kind of things?"
She blew out a mouthful of air, then breathed it all back in. "Someone has to make a full record of the damages incurred to the base."
"Have you done a record of the sickbay yet?" I asked, using the first thing I could come up with.
She pressed the back of her hand against her forehead. "Not yet."
"Well I could help you there. I'm already quite familiar with that area."
Someone was trying to cut in on my chronocom again. They would have to wait!
"If you want to," she said. Her tone was reminiscent of the frosty personality I encountered in Prenglar.
"Where do we meet?"
"I'll be working in the library tonight at about 32:00."
"Then it's a date!" I said.
Her voice almost dropped to a whisper. "Good luck getting better, Kro'khan."
She closed communication.
For the third time, someone tried to call me on my chronocom. They waited, I told myself. I might as well answer.
It was Commodore Xid'kit. His face looked flushed. Very flushed.
"Are you all right?" I asked with immediate concern.
"Kro'khan. I used a portable computer to download the Cavalier's flight data before we arrived on the planet. I've been using it to astrogate our return course, but I found something I think you should look at. Do you remember what you were telling me during the voya--"
Before he could finish the last sentence, his image spun out of the chronocom view panel. All I could see was a wall and some of the floor. I heard a sharp grunt, and then the connection went dead.
I jumped up, not realizing that I didn't need my walker, and raced to Xid'kit's room.
His personal computer had been melted into a solidified puddle by some sort of energy weapon. The commodore himself lay motionless on the floor.
He was still holding an empty hypodermic sprayer. I opened it and smelled. Telol.
Apparent suicide.
Apparent.