Edge World (Undying Mercenaries Series Book 14)

by B. V. Larson

  “Oh yeah.”

  Barton frowned at me. Her gloved hands slid up to rest on her waist. That was a bad look from any woman.

  “Did you read all that stuff you sent me?”

  “Well… it was kind of late, see. So I wanted you to check through the details and brief me.”

  “So that’s what this ‘meeting’ is about? Don’t you usually have Natasha do your homework for you?”

  “You’re doing fine,” I said, but I was beginning to frown myself. This wasn’t going well. I didn’t want Barton losing respect for me. That was the trouble with spending decades in space with the same group of people. They got to know all your tricks after a while.

  Barton looked down at her tapper. “All right, to summarize, we’re arriving at around 0400 hours ship time. We’ll cross the system at sub-light speeds for another eleven hours. At that point, we should be within striking distance of the planet itself. We’ll drop, secure their capital and demand immediate submission to the Empire… Heavy-handed, like I said.”

  “What do you think about the plan?”

  She looked up, puzzled. “What do I think? In what regard, sir?”

  “Will the Aquarii people fight or give up? Are they even capable of fighting?”

  Barton looked troubled. She lowered her tapper and looked me in the eye.

  “They’ll definitely fight. The whole planet is at war most of the time, anyway. To me, this opening move seems like a huge mistake. Turov is trying to impress these people, to overawe them so they won’t be any trouble. But I don’t think it will work.”

  “Yeah? Why not?”

  “Because they constantly fight among themselves. It’s their culture to do so. They’ve been struggling for thousands of years. That’s why they invented the revival machine in the first place. They die often. In their culture, a boy isn’t even considered a man until he’s fallen in battle at least once.”

  “Hmm…” I said, thinking she might have a point there. Turov’s plan could work well on a peaceful world. What’s more, they could probably defend themselves against our level of technology. She might believe she was going to be pushing around bumpkins, but these people were smart enough to build revival machines we couldn’t duplicate yet. They had to have effective weaponry.

  “James,” Barton said, touching my arm. “Go talk to Turov. You know her well. Convince her that this is the wrong approach.”

  I grunted unhappily. Sure, I knew Turov pretty damned well. One thing I was sure about was she didn’t like people telling her that her plans were dumb. That was doubly true if they actually were dumb.

  Scratching my head, I grumbled something and walked away. My date at 8 pm was looking pretty bleak all of a sudden.

  Dinnertime came and went. As soon as I’d eaten, I headed over to Galina’s quarters.

  A wannabe hog stood guard in the lobby. He was Fleet, not part of Legion Varus, so I didn’t have much respect for him.

  There was no one else around except for one clerk at the duty desk. He had his feet up and his eyes on his tapper. He snapped to attention at my approach, but then sagged back into his seat again when he saw I was only a centurion.

  When faced by flunkies, my instinct is always to ignore them utterly. Accordingly I walked on by, not even bothering to smile or make eye-contact.

  The hog-like guard approached and intercepted me. He’d been ordered to keep the riffraff off Gold Deck, especially after regular hours had ended.

  “Sorry sir,” he told me with practiced regret, “Gold Deck is closed at this time.”

  “Check your roster, hog,” I suggested.

  His fake affable smile transformed into a twisted mask of anger. Now glaring, he lifted his tapper and poked at it.

  “Here we are: Centurion James McGill, known troublemaker. Banned for life. Approach with extreme caution.”

  My jaw sagged low. “Banned for life? What the—?”

  He began laughing then, lowering his arm and grinning. “Sorry sir, just having a little fun. But seriously, there is no list. I’m under orders to keep out anyone under the rank of primus. There’ve been entirely too many people wandering up here with their petty problems.”

  “Says who? Who gave you these orders, Veteran?”

  He grinned. “Tribune Turov herself, sir.”

  It was my turn to be annoyed. Thinking things over, I believed the hog-boy. Those snotty words sounded like they’d come out of Galina’s mouth all right.

  Lifting my tapper, I contacted her directly. She answered after the first buzz.

  She was out of uniform, as I’d hoped she would be. I couldn’t see much more than her head and shoulders, but I could tell she was wearing something low-cut and silky-looking. Her hair was down, and she’d put on some extra makeup if I wasn’t mistaken.

  “You’re late, McGill. I don’t like being kept waiting.”

  “That’s what I figured, sir. Could you inform this former hog, the unfortunate you left in the elevator lobby? He’s misinformed.”

  I turned the tapper toward the guard. Galina didn’t look any happier to see him than I did. Before she said anything, the hog caved. He looked like he might wet himself.

  “I’m sorry, sirs! McGill is on his way, Tribune!”

  “Good,” Galina said. “Now, go back to playing hallway monitor.”

  “Have my orders changed, sir? In regard to this man, I mean?”

  Galina seemed to think about it. “I don’t know yet. Dismissed.”

  The hog gave me a strange look as I sauntered on by. He said something about not having believed the rumors.

  “What’s that, Veteran?” I asked him sharply.

  “Nothing, Centurion! Nothing at all.”

  Nodding, I continued on my merry way. There were quite a few twists and turns. Her quarters were located at the very back of Gold Deck—by design, no doubt. Her door was both hard to find and as distant as possible from the lobby.

  Reaching Galina’s door at last, I tapped politely a few times. But she didn’t open up right away. After all that fuss with the guard, I’d gotten a little steamed up.

  “Come on, girl,” I boomed, banging my big fist on the door. “Stop playing games and open this door. I know you can see me through the cameras.”

  She still didn’t open the door. Annoyed, I stepped away and flipped off her pinhole camera.

  But then, before leaving, I hesitated.

  Galina hadn’t given me any hint that she was going to pull something like this. She’d been dressed up all sexy-like, and she’d been annoyed I was taking too long to arrive. None of these behaviors seemed like she was in the mood to play some kind of coy game.

  “Hmm…” I said, frowning at the door. I reached out and tried the handle.

  It was locked, but the latch broke easily in my grip. I pushed it wide open and stepped inside.

  There she was, wearing a frilly nightgown of that satin stuff she liked so much. She would probably call it a kimono or a robe—but I called it a provocative, easy-access excuse for clothing.

  None of that was alarming. What stopped me dead in my tracks was her position, and her pose. She was face down, head to one side, lying on the floor. Her nails were freshly painted a bright red, but I knew in an instant that the pool of liquid surrounding her pretty person on that deck wasn’t paint—it was blood.

  -29-

  I could tell in an instant the angle of her neck was wrong—it wasn’t natural. Her neck was broken, and there were stab-wounds in her back.

  Now, when any normal man is confronted by his dead girlfriend on the ground, he might well shout and approach. He might kneel down and try to help her—but long years had shaped my mind differently.

  I didn’t cry out or piss myself or anything. Instead, my eyes slid from side to side. A knife appeared in my hand. The blade glittered silver-white, reflecting the overhead lighting. I didn’t even look at Galina—I looked for her killer.

  There wasn’t much to her quarters. Everything was n
ice, mind you, with a main room, a separate bedroom, a walk-in closet and a private bath. It was a studio apartment, essentially. Back on Earth, it would have been considered upscale. Here aboard a military ship, it was the equivalent of a palace.

  Still, it didn’t take too long to search the place. As I stalked around, I touched the emergency button on my tapper and held it down for five long seconds. I’d always thought five seconds took too much time to summon help, but I supposed it helped prevent accidental alarms going off every day.

  The first man to reach the hanging door was the hog-candidate I’d irritated back in the lobby. He was fast on his feet, and at least he knew his job.

  He came barreling in, swore up a streak when he saw Galina on the deck, and then fumbled out his sidearm.

  “Centurion McGill! Drop that knife! Submit to arrest immediately!”

  I glanced at him. I was standing at her private computer now, tapping at the sensors. I put my knife on the table. It clattered there, and gouged the surface. Just touching a mono-filament blade to a solid surface often gouged it up something awful.

  “There’s no blood on my blade, Veteran Daniels.”

  “What?”

  “Check it out. Someone stabbed her and broke her neck.”

  “I can see that, McGill. Didn’t take you long to get angry did it?”

  I looked up from the computer. “How’s that?”

  “I’ve heard a few things about you. None of them good. They call you a predator, you know that?”

  “Who does? Your hog buddies back at Central?”

  His face reddened. “I’m talking about the women in this legion.”

  “Aw, come on. I chase skirts, but I don’t murder them. Too much trouble.”

  Daniels stepped forward. His pistol was out, and his other hand was raised high in a defensive posture. I made no move on him.

  “What are you doing on her computer? That’s against regs, McGill.”

  “Don’t I know it… here, I’ve got something.”

  I flipped the screen flat, so it merged with the desk. That made the software kick in and expand the video I’d found. I touched the controls, making it jump forward ten seconds.

  “Is that her security footage?” he asked.

  “Sure looks like it. Let’s see who came to dinner before I did.”

  Doubtfully, Daniels stood with me and peered at the video. For several jumps in time, nothing happened—then a figure appeared.

  And I do mean appeared. One frame, it wasn’t there. The next, there was flash of blue-white light, kind of like a small jolt of lightning. A figure stood in the center of her quarters, wearing a dark cloak and hood.

  “That’s a woman,” Daniels said.

  I nodded in agreement.

  A moment later, Galina stepped into view. The taller woman attacked her immediately. She didn’t say anything or give any warning. She just quickly and efficiently murdered Galina.

  “She stabbed her in the heart, then twisted her neck just to make sure?” Daniels asked.

  I nodded.

  The moment the deed was done, the assassin adjusted what must be a teleport harness of some kind. She built up a charge, and her image began to strobe.

  The assassin was startled when my fist began to hammer on the door. I could tell she could hear me, and she crouched. She reached for her harness and gave it a quick twist.

  My fat finger stabbed down and paused the action. I zoomed in.

  Before I could watch the rest of the vid, however, a bunch more security people rushed into the place. They were all Fleet-types, and they had guns drawn. Behind them, belatedly, was a bio team. I could have told them they were too late. There was nothing left for them to do other than collect the body.

  “Hold on a second,” Daniels told the excited shore-patrol stooges. “McGill found her like this—he’s onto something.”

  “Stand down, Daniels!” an ensign ordered. “Get away from that console, McGill! You’re tampering with evidence, and that’s a whole separate charge!”

  Ignoring these new irritants, I gestured to Daniels. I pointed at the screen and zoomed in to check out the hooded figure’s chest. “See that? Standard jump-harness. She didn’t have time for a full charge. She jumped early.”

  “McGill, I’m placing you under arrest,” the centurion said.

  Stepping around the table, I pointed at Galina’s body. “Our commander was just assassinated. You’re the one interfering, because the assassin is still aboard this ship—but probably not for long.”

  The centurion blinked at me and then Galina in confusion. “Replay that video, Daniels.”

  He began to do so, but I didn’t feel like waiting around. I brushed past the growing pack of cops. Damn, these boys weren’t too quick on the uptake.

  “McGill, come back here! I’ve got questions for you! Damn it man, this is my job.”

  “And you’re doing shitty work tonight. If you want to arrest, torment and execute me later on, you can. But I’m going to find that assassin.”

  “How are you going to do that? She could be anywhere on this ship, according to you.”

  “Nope… she’ll be trying to charge her harness.”

  “Where?”

  “Down on Gray Deck, dumbass.”

  Complaining, half the cops followed me. Others fussed over the body, like they were going to find fingerprints or something. They really didn’t seem to like my intrusion on their turf, but that was just too frigging bad. My date and my evening had been ruined, and I wasn’t in the mood to take any crap from a pack of desk-jockeys.

  I reached Gray Deck a few minutes later. By this time, I’d alerted both Graves and Sub-Tribune Fike. They were in my chain of command, and they needed to know what had happened.

  “Let me get this straight,” Graves said, speaking out of my tapper as I marched along with sweeping strides. “You went up to see the tribune—inappropriately, I might add—and found her dead when you got there?”

  “Not against regs, sir. We’re only two steps apart in rank now, both officers.”

  “Sometimes things that aren’t strictly forbidden are considered bad policy, McGill. Your actions tonight are officially frowned upon.”

  I rolled my eyes, but I didn’t argue with him. He was just pissed off that we had a leadership crisis a few hours before our ship was due to arrive at 91 Aquarii.

  “If you want to know more, sir, meet me on Gray Deck.”

  Rudely, I disconnected the channel and contacted Natasha. She was the best at tech puzzles, and I knew her personally.

  “Sorry James, I still haven’t cracked the code yet,” she said sleepily.

  “What? Oh, that… I’m not calling about that.”

  I filled her in quickly, and she agreed to meet me on Gray Deck as well.

  By the time I got there, Graves was waiting. Natasha arrived soon afterward.

  “Followed by the cops everywhere you go, as usual,” Graves complained, seeing the Congo-line of Fleet pukes in my wake.

  “What? These guys?” I jerked a thumb over my shoulder at the disgruntled pack. I could tell they were still itching to arrest me. “They’re in this hog-look-alike contest. They’re trying to sway the judge with tonight’s performance, but you know me. It takes more than a pretty face to change my vote.”

  Graves waved away my words. “Let’s get down to it. There’s no one here. None of the techs have seen anything.”

  “Huh…” I said, looking around. “Where did she go, then?”

  Graves and the cops fell to talking. I paced and ignored their rude suggestions concerning my possible guilt. Everyone cast random glances in my direction, as if they thought I was the murderer, and I’d concocted an elaborate ruse to throw them off. That sort of thing had happened before, but in this case it was pure slander.

  “Hold on…” I said, playing the video again. This time, when we got a glimpse of the woman under the hood, I zoomed in to see her face, rather than what she was doing with her telep
ort harness.

  “She’s a looker,” Daniels admitted.

  Everyone glared at him, so he shrugged and shut up.

  “That face…” I said, jabbing a finger at the screen. “Long and lean, kind of mean-looking. She reminds me of someone…”

  “She looks like one of those people from the dominant tribe on 91 Aquarii,” Natasha said.

  “You’re right,” Graves said. “You think she really could be a Shadowlander? Here, on our ship, while we’re warping through space?”

  I nodded. “She could have come here if she got the coordinates from someone. Hell, I’ve done stuff like that myself.”

  Graves looked like he smelled shit, but I didn’t care. I knew those missions had been classified, but this was the here and now.

  “All right,” I said. “If she’s still aboard this ship, what’s she doing?”

  “Sabotage? More assassinations? We should contact Fike. He’s next in command.”

  Just then, Fike arrived and gave us all a stern look. “Contact Fike about what?”

  They explained the theory that we had a roaming agent from the Shadowlander tribe aboard.

  I got bored and moved on. I didn’t want to waste time sticking around to listen to it all again.

  “Where’s McGill?” Fike boomed suddenly as the door slid shut behind me. “You men let him slip out? What’s wrong with you?”

  That was all I heard, as I was on my way to Blue Deck next. Nothing was going to stop me.

  -30-

  Blue Deck was quiet, but it was guarded by some stern-eyed orderlies. The nature of the bio people in the legions had always been a bit strange. They considered themselves to be above the rest of us. They acted more like an aloof priesthood, tending to their strange machines in hidden rooms, than the blood-and-guts biological repairmen they really were.

  All this meant next to nothing to me. I had a long history of bypassing silly rules made by silly people.

  To keep things rolling, I arranged for Carlos to be on hand and greet me at the door. As a bio-specialist, he was allowed onto Blue Deck whenever he felt the urge. He came out of the big doors, scooted past the guards and came to talk to me in the passageway in low tones.