Free Death to the Imperium (Imperium Cicernus) by James McGovern Page A

switched the computer to emergency power, and began to examine the
readings. His frown deepened. “That can’t be right…”
    “What?”
Glitz said.
    “All
readings are normal. The engines are operational, the shields are intact…
everything is in full working order.”
    Tekka
pulled a lever on the side of the wall, and the lights flickered on; Glitz had
to squint in the sudden brightness. Light flashed on several panels as all the
equipment rebooted. Everything seemed clean and shiny—it seemed to be a new
ship.
    “You
see? Everything is working.”
    “But…
where are the crew?”
    “There
are no life signs aboard. This ship is totally empty. Perhaps the crew left in
the escape pods.” He checked another reading. “Yes, it seems that all of the
escape pods have been taken.”
    Glitz
shuddered. What could have possibly caused the crew to evacuate? The ship was
in perfect condition.
    “You
sure there are no life signs on board?”
    “Positive.”
    Glitz
didn’t feel comforted. Something must have frightened the crew. But what?
    “Let’s
just grab the supplies and get the hell out of here,” Glitz said.
    Putting
down their helmets on the flight deck, they opened the bulkhead door and
stepped into the corridor. The entire ship was eerily quiet, with no noise
apart from the whirr of the electronic lighting and life support. Tekka
switched on the communication feature of his neurochip and spoke to Doland on
the other ship, informing him that they had arrived safely and should be back
shortly. Tekka then used one of the wall panels to access a schematic of the
ship’s design. Using his finger, he traced out the quickest route to the main
storage bay, and beckoned Glitz to follow him. They entered the main storage
area, which was filled with countless crates of provisions. They opened a few of
them and discovered assortments of dry foodstuffs, water, oxygen packs, particle
weapons, hull repair kits, gravity boots… the variety of useful items was
amazing.
    “We’ll
have to make a few trips,” Glitz said, grinning.
    Tekka
looked uneasy, but said nothing. They decided to take a crate of food and water
filters first, and then return for the other provisions. Carrying a crate each,
they returned to the other ship, and then went back again to pick up more
items.
    “It’s
amazing that they left all this stuff,” Glitz muttered, looking at the
remaining cargo. “It must be worth at least fifty thousand credits.”
    “That’s
what worries me,” Tekka said. “Think about it. What could possibly warrant the
abandonment of such expensive supplies?”
    “There
could be some sort of danger here,” Glitz admitted, looking around as he said
it, as if expecting some monster to come lurching out of the air ducts on cue.
    “Perhaps.”
Tekka nodded. “Or perhaps this is a trap. On some primitive planets in the Rim,
the inhabitants have a problem with a small mammal called a mouse . To
deal with the mice, devices called mousetraps are used. These
contraptions usually consist of a spring-loaded metal bar, along with a piece
of cheese as bait. As soon as the vermin tries to take the cheese, the trap is
activated and the bar snaps over the animal, breaking its neck or spinal cord.”
    “Nice,”
Glitz said.
    “But
do you not see?” Tekka said. “What if this ship is the mousetrap, and these
provisions the cheese?”
    Glitz
glanced around at the abandoned supplies, as if seeing them in a new light.
    “OK,”
Glitz said, starting to feel uneasy. “Let’s make this our last trip. But we’ll
carry as much as we possibly can. Look—pick up one of those giant crates and
we’ll…” He tailed off, staring at the walls of the ship.
    “You
have gone pale,” Tekka said.
    Glitz
did not reply.
    “Is
something the matter?”
    There
was something wrong, Glitz was sure of it. His years of working for the East
Galaxy Company had taught him everything there was to know about smuggling. He
had discovered just about every