by B. V. Larson
“Well… the truth is, I’m drawing a blank, here. Graves is kind of annoyed with me, see, and Fike… well, I think Fike outright hates me.”
“Of course he does. I’m a fool to think I could get information from a rutting field-animal such as yourself… it would be easier to squeeze blood from a turnip. You are a dolt, McGill. A growth on the hindquarters of an unpleasant animal.”
He stepped closer, so I took a firmer grip on my bomb.
“Helsa was right,” he said, blowing bad, steamy breath into my face. “You have nothing to offer. You know nothing, and I’m done with this conversation.”
To my total surprise, he reached toward my bomb—and he set it off.
-68-
When I was revived again, I came out of the chute laughing. I tried to explain what was so funny to the bio-people, but they didn’t seem to have any sense of humor.
“Has he got a brain-warp or something?”
“I don’t think so, Specialist. His numbers are passing.”
They were both male voices, so I didn’t want to hang around. They got me up and off their table in good time.
When I walked out of Blue Bunker, I was holding myself up by one hand on the walls. Since I’d skipped taking a shower, I left a slimy trail on everything I touched, a trail not unlike that of a garden snail.
My tapper was buzzing and talking to me, but I didn’t care. I headed to the door and walked outside.
To my surprise, it was kind of bright outside. How long had I been dead?
“McGill reporting,” I said, answering the most persistent caller. It was Graves.
“You’re late for the briefing, McGill.”
“Uh… I’ve been kind of busy playing dead, sir.”
“That’s no excuse. Get over here to Gold Bunker, on the double.”
He disconnected, and I went into a shambling trot. By the time I reached Gold Bunker, I could walk straight.
Off in the distance, I saw something I hadn’t expected. The Shadowlander town—it was mostly gone. The buildings had been dismantled, and there was an ant-like procession of people heading west and away from their slowly rising sun.
“Huh… I must have been dead for a week,” I commented to no one in particular.
Marching down the steps into Gold Bunker, I was directed toward the big conference room. I threw open the door, and it banged into the opposite wall. There were no seats left, so I stood in the back.
“There he is, back from his beauty rest,” Fike said. He stood at the front of the chamber next to Graves. “I hope you enjoyed your little siesta, McGill.”
“I surely did, sir. Nothing like the peace of the dead.”
Fike turned back to Graves, who was messing with a com-link.
Tribune Turov showed up on the big screen when Graves finally finished fooling around. She scanned the audience, landing her pretty eyes on me. They narrowed to slits.
“There he is at last. Is it true that you detonated an antimatter bomb on this planet, McGill?”
“Uh…” I said, looking around and noticing a large number of unfriendly stares. “I might have at that.”
She nodded slowly, but before she could continue Fike jumped in.
“He destroyed a suit of specialized armor, Tribune,” he complained. “For that alone—”
“Stop whining about your armor, Fike. You’ll get a new suit eventually. Besides, he’s done far more damage than that. The Galactics have ruled that the detonation of an antimatter device was a violation of their rules.”
“How so?” I asked.
“For the same reason we’re not allowed to bombard the planet from orbit. You’re supposed to prove the comparative strengths of your ground forces, not annihilate four percent of the planet!”
“I didn’t annihilate anything... Not exactly.”
“Tens of thousands were killed, McGill.”
“But Armel pulled the detonator tab himself. I wasn’t even going to do it.”
“You took the bomb out there to the night-sider camp. No one believes you didn’t plan to use it—especially not the Nairbs.”
I opened my mouth to protest further, but I stopped myself. I wasn’t going to win anyone over with a loud argument.
A siren sounded then, making us all jump. Galina moved to the big screen on the back wall.
“Shut up, everyone. It’s the Nairbs. They’ve reached a consensus.”
Baffled, I watched as the green seal-like creature appeared. He looked prim and maybe even a little proud of himself.
“Humans. This is an announcement, not a conference. After reviewing recent activities and weighing complaints and statements from both sides, I find you to be in violation of the initial parameters for this contest. Accordingly—”
“We wish to file a grievance,” Galina interrupted.
The Nairb looked annoyed. “That is improper at this juncture. I have yet to pronounce my ruling.”
“McGill did it!” Galina shouted, pointing at me. “He operated without authority when he bombed the night-sider camp!”
“That is also irrelevant. We can’t be expected to track each of you vermin as individuals. Legally, your designation is that of a herd, swarm or hive of creatures. Guilt must be shared when weighing a matter like this.”
“Hey, I object,” I said.
The Nairb raised a flipper to silence us all. “This is entirely out of order. I will now mute your audio input and pronounce my verdict.”
We fell silent because there was nothing better to do. The Nairb drew himself up to his full height, which was less than a meter tall because he was shaped like a seal, and continued.
“The contest has gone poorly. Both sides have been accused of violations—teleport harnesses, high-powered bombs and the like. Worst of all has been the frequent use of revival machines. These allow both sides to keep replenishing losses, and the contest has therefore devolved into an endless slog.
“Neither the Nairb Inspector’s Guild nor the two senior Galactics present wish to see this contest drag on. We have, unfortunately, been unable to declare a clear winner. Accordingly, we’ve decided to resolve the conflict with finality.”
We dared to look at one another with hopeful eyes. Galina seemed to have been under the impression the Nairbs were going to throw the book at us, but fortunately, Armel had cheated at least as much as we had. On top of all that, it was only obvious that the Nairb couldn’t make a quick arbitrary judgment against either side. Two Galactic races were on the verge of war, and neither of them was going to back down.
“The human legion known as Varus will face Armel’s force of saurians on an open field. They will be roughly equal in numbers and armament. If either side is destroyed, or routed from the battle, they will be declared the loser. That is our judgment, and it will not be swayed by bleating pleas.”
The Nairb disconnected, and the officers all looked at one another in shock.
All of them, that was, except for me. I was all smiles, and I pumped my fist in the air.
“We’re gonna kick their butts! You watch, people. Armel and his lizards will be slaughtered!”
No one else seemed as confident or happy as I was, but I didn’t care. I did a little victory dance while people stared at me glumly. If you ask me, they were all a bunch of nervous nellies.
-69-
After the meeting broke up, I headed down toward my bunk and pulled out a long box. Inside, I found a very special suit of armor. I had to spray it out again, as the special funk Fike had left inside was still detectable to a discerning nose like mine.
A few minutes later, I stood tall and proud, wearing the armor they’d made under Central just for me. With a fresh feeling of confidence, I strode toward the caravan of nomads that were still streaming by our encampment.
I didn’t see anyone I recognized at first, but there were at least a hundred and fifty combat drones marching along with the rest of the Shadowlanders. Seeing them gave me an idea.
“Hey! Hey,
you!”
Trotting alongside the marching drones, I finally spotted a half-familiar face. I chased after a member of the inner council of suck-ups. I’d seen him before, a throne-sniffer who’d fawned all over Kattra. He was skinny, with big dark eyes that got a lot bigger when I rolled up on him.
“Hey,” I said, “where’s Helsa? Or Kattra?”
He showed me a set of yellow teeth. “Our Lady has moved on, but her daughter is at the head of this procession.” He indicated the long, long line of marching combat drones.
I thanked him and pressed into the herd. A plume of dust rose up, churned up by around fifty thousand sandal-wearing feet. They didn’t seem to have too many vehicles, and those they did have were being used to carry their mobile structures and other goods. Anyone who was fit had to walk.
“Helsa?” I asked when I saw a familiar head of tousled hair.
She turned slowly in my direction. Her face, which started off kind of sour-looking, moved straight on into outright anger. She stepped out of the procession and stood to the side of that long line of drudgery.
“McGill? What gives you the gall to come here and pester me?”
“Huh? I thought you liked me.”
She laughed. “Unbelievable. I didn’t think it could be true, but apparently it is. You are an idiot.”
Helsa began walking again, and the winds whipped up her sheer clothes to flap and hug her form. This time she made an effort to cover up—pulling her flowing cloak with both hands to cover her charms. I was sad to see that.
“Come on, you owe me. I took out Armel, just like you wanted me to.”
She stopped again, and she wore a look of astonishment. “You thought that’s what I wanted you to do? To teleport there with a bomb and incinerate a population?”
“Uh… is this a trick question? I certainly did think that. What’s the matter? Did you expect me to port out there and fight him bravely, one-on-one?”
She shook her head. “No, I expected you to die.”
“Oh… well, I did do that.”
“This conversation is at an end. We must withdraw from this place before the sun touches us directly.”
“Why? Will you melt like a bunch of vampires or something?”
“No, we will not melt, but we will be shamed. It is our right, our permanent privilege to stay within the best slice of land on our world. If we don’t move with it now, we’ll be no better than bright-siders within a month’s time.”
I didn’t quite get what her problem was, but I could see that these monthly migrations were very important to the Shadowlanders. Their self-worth was all wrapped up in the idea that they owned the best slice of perpetually moving real estate on this arid planet, wherever that spot happened to be located at the moment.
“Okay, I’ll tell you what. I’ll just take your combat drones. What have you got here, like, two hundred of them? That would be a nasty surprise for old Armel. I could chase him off the planet with such a force.”
“What is the point, McGill? The interstellar currents are driving us into Skay territory anyway. Winning this battle—even if it were possible—will only keep us in Province 921 for another few years.”
“Right, exactly. Time enough for us to evacuate your people and find a new home for the lot of you.”
She laughed bitterly. “You really think that’s what we want? To become vagabonds among the stars? I’d rather live with the night-siders!”
“You already are nomads. Is it so hard to move one more time?”
“We’re nomads on a world we know. A world we love. We have no trust that you or your government will place us somewhere where we’ll be happy.”
“Well… you’ve got a valid concern there.”
She stopped again and stared up at me. She looked like she was trying to figure me out. Her pretty face went through a series of emotions.
“We had a deal, Armel and I did. You ruined that deal.”
“What deal? Did he offer you a place in his legion? He likes to do that with women.”
Helsa opened her mouth, then closed it again. She turned and hurried away, but I followed her.
As countless pissed-off women from my sordid past can attest, I have a shockingly long stride. If you want to out-walk old McGill, you’d better be ready to up and run for it.
“Say,” I said. “Are you telling me everyone is right about what they say about you?”
She stopped and turned. Her head was lowered dangerously, and she stood in a fighting stance. I knew I was pissing her off something awful, but I pretended not to notice.
“Who is saying what about me?”
“Well… pretty much everybody. There’s Armel, for one. He’s got an awful big mouth under than mustache, you know.”
“What did he tell you?”
“You know… the usual. All about how he nailed you on his first try, and how easy you were. He said you were just like tons of other dumbass, yokel girls on other backwater planets. He laughed about some kind of deal he’d made to save you and your people. About how all you had to do was give up some sugar, and help him trap that big, old badass McGill—”
That was as far as I got before she slapped me. It was a good thing too, because I’d almost run out of insulting bullshit to tell her.
Her slap, actually, was more of punch. There were knuckles in there, and I felt them all. I caught her hand quickly before it could be withdrawn.
Helsa had a blade out in her other hand, pressed up against my belly, but I was in my black armor, and I didn’t think she could scratch it.
“Let go of my hand, human.”
“What’s got you so angry?”
“You’re lying. You’re dishonoring me with your grip and your words.”
“I’m not lying. Armel set off that bomb, not me.”
I let her go. She rubbed at her wrist.
“More lies. Armel told me of your savagery, your appetites, and your habit of constantly lying.”
I was a bit alarmed. I’d kind of hoped Armel hadn’t dumped on me, but it made sense that he had.
One of the truly advanced elements of telling whoppers had long ago been mastered by my humble self. When you’re telling a string of misleading details, you make sure that one of them is stone-cold true. That way, when you can prove it, people generally believe the rest of your story.
Lifting my tapper, I quickly found the last vid file from my previous existence. I was lucky, in that my tapper had successfully recorded a stream of video that lasted up until the moment of my demise in a fireball of vast proportions. Our networking was getting faster every year, it seemed to me.
Running my finger along, I went to the end, then ran only the last thirty seconds. I shoved my forearm under her nose, and she sneered—but she couldn’t help but watch.
Armel and I talked, then he came close, and he reached in and set off my bomb. It was as plain as day.
“See?” I said. “He never planned to follow-up on any promises he gave you. There will be no crown of gold, no silk cushions, no—”
“Shut up. He promised nothing of the kind. He guaranteed that we’d find peace and prosperity under the Skay.”
I threw back my head and hooted with laughter. I howled as if she’d told me the funniest thing I’d heard all day.
She stabbed me then, repeatedly, but she couldn’t breach my armor.
“Stop that,” I said, brushing her off.
“No one laughs at Helsa of the Shadowlanders!”
“Are you sure about that? Armel’s laughing. He set off the bomb that made the Nairbs call us cheaters. That’s why we’re about to fight them to the death in your shitty desert. And you know something else? You are one ungrateful woman.”
I turned away and walked away from the road. I headed back toward our encampment. I was surprised to see we’d gone pretty far from our huddle of bunkers. These nomads took their marches seriously.
I heard slapping feet in the dust behind me. Despite my trust in my armor, and my
devious plans, it took all my willpower not to turn around and face her—but I managed it.
Helsa fell into step beside me. “Did he really laugh at me?”
“I’d swear on a stack of bibles,” I lied.
“That dancing sand-devil. He must be cut down.”
“Uh… what’d you have in mind?”
She stopped and pointed over her shoulder. Turning and looking, my eyes widened.
Two hundred combat drones, maybe more, were following her. They all stopped and stood silently, watching us both with their roving cameras. Right then, I was glad I hadn’t tried to grab her again or anything.
“These automatons will serve you until you leave our world—but don’t take too long to do so.”
Helsa turned away and hurried back to join the endless, dust-churning masses that were her people. I watched her go, and I felt sorry she hadn’t hung around for another few hours. After all, we could have celebrated our rekindled friendship with a bottle of wine and a soft bunk.
Ah well, I guess some things were just not meant to be.
-70-
The creeping mosses of the Shadowlands curled and blackened every day along the line they called Dawn’s Edge. On most worlds, this border between night and day moved quickly, but not so on Edge World. Here, the line moved with the determined slowness of a minute hand on an old fashioned clock, the kind most people couldn’t make heads or tails of these days.
As Dawn’s Edge crept over the world, the delicate mosses died, unable to withstand direct sunlight. The stuff had evolved with a peculiar weakness to both full day and full night. It could only survive in the eternal purply twilight that existed in-between and much longer than seemed natural.
It was along this line that we met with Armel’s forces. They came out of the east with the creeping dawn. We formed ranks to meet them right where the Shadowlander city had so recently been dismantled.
The battlefield had been chosen by the Nairbs precisely for its flat, featureless nature. In their desperate efforts to please two implacable enemies, they’d selected the most neutral stretch of land they could find.
