Star Bridge Read Online Free Page A

the waistband of his pants. A coin was ejected into his hand. The crystal disk had a silver rim. He held it up between his eye and the stars.
    His hand trembled. He caught it quickly, stopped the tremor, held the coin steady. The strain had been great for a long time, but it would be fatal to let loose now.
    Garth Kohlnar stared at him out of the coin. His massive, bronze face, his stiff, reddish hair, his yellow-gray eyes were startlingly lifelike. Powerful and dominant, the General Manager of the Eron Company fixed the holder of the coin with unwavering eyes, as if to say:
    â€œHere is money. Here is the stuff of trade, the symbol of empire. Here is good money, hard money, crafted so carefully that counterfeit is impossible, backed by all the might and wealth of Eron. You have toiled for it, but your toil was not wasted. You hold your reward in your hands, a work of art, a token of value. Whatever you have done to get this coin was worthwhile. You own a share of Eron. Ask for it. It will be delivered without question.”
    The night wind was cold on Horn’s half-naked body. He resisted the impulse to shiver. He laid the coin in the dust of the desert and drew out another and another until five of the crystal disks lay side by side, silver-rimmed, orange, green, blue, black. The General Manager and four of his five Directors: Matal for Power, Fenelon for Transport, Ronholm for Commerce, Duchane for Security.
    Five faces: thin and round, long and short, bold and cunning. The differences were unimportant. They all had the golden skin of the pureblood, and an even deeper kinship spoke through the eyes. It was the kinship of power, an imperial hunger only half-satisfied and basically unappeasable.
    The sixth coin was gold-banded like the one Horn had tossed to Wu. The symbol of the Directorship of Communications. Horn held the coin up to the stars.
    The coin held a woman’s face as a morning flower holds a drop of dew, mirroring in it the limitless possibilities of the world that begins again. Her skin was softly golden against red-gold hair confined by a fillet of immense white diamonds. Her red lips curved gently in the faint beginning of a smile; they promised an empire to the man who could win them. And her head, held proudly, told him that an empire would not be enough to lay at her feet. Her tawny eyes looked out at Horn, sank deep into his eyes, judging, weighing.…
    Is this the man?
    â€œThe lovely Wendre,” a voice wheezed. “Wendre Kohlnar, the new Director, daughter of the General Manager.”
    Startled, Horn turned at the first words. His hand darted toward his gun, dropping the coin. Wu knelt beside him. He was unarmed. Horn’s hand fell back to his side.
    â€œBeautiful,” Wu went on casually, “and heir to all that.” He waved a careless hand at the star-studded sky. “If she can find a man strong enough to hold it for her.”
    â€œAll except that,” Horn said. He pointed toward the seven sisters of the Pleiades Cluster, just rising on the horizon. “Eron has conquered the Quarnon League, but keeping it is another matter.”
    â€œThe tides of empire rise,” Wu said softly. “A few always flee in front of it, but the waves crash after them. Now they have crushed the Cluster. They have smashed it flat. It will never rise again. When the tide recedes at last, it will leave only sand-strewn ruins.”
    â€œThe defeat isn’t final. Not while the Liberator lives.”
    â€œYou think Eron doesn’t know that?” Wu asked. “Peter Sair was sent to Prison Terminal. Vantee. A few months ago, he died there. Or so it is said.”
    â€œDead?” Horn said. He stared toward the horizon, toward the Pleiades, toward the cluster of stars that were close enough for civilization without the Tube, where freedom had died. He stared toward home and realized for the first time that he could never go back.
    Three hundred light years