by Jim C. Hines
“Admiral Pachelbel thought of that.” Cate’s torso convulsed once . . . twice . . . three times . . . On the fourth, he spat a gritty pellet into his hands.
Kumar scooted his chair away.
Cate’s claws teased apart the pellet to extract a small yellow-tinged memory crystal. “This contains all you should need to falsify the Pufferfish’s identification beacon, as well as instructions to help you evade more intensive short-range scrutiny.” He placed the crystal on the table.
Mops grabbed a small cleaning rag from her harness and used it to retrieve and wrap the crystal. “I’ll take a look, but this ship isn’t going anywhere near Earth until I’m convinced it’s worth the risk.”
“I can say with complete confidence this discovery is more important than your lives,” said Cate.
“Well, I’m reassured,” Monroe said dryly.
“Excellent.” Cate looked around. “It doesn’t appear the others are convinced. This next part would be easier if I could use the display screen on your wall. Would you allow me access to your ship’s computers?”
“When Nusurans find celibacy,” Mops said.
Cate hesitated. “Is that a figure of speech or a precondition?”
“It’s a reminder that I don’t trust you,” said Mops. “And the only reason you’re here instead of in our brig is because I do trust Admiral Pachelbel . . . to an extent. But Prodryans have an innate drive to slaughter other intelligent life. Some of you are more proactive about it, but everything we’ve seen, heard, and learned about your species suggests you’re not exactly working for our best interests. Giving you access to our systems would be an incredibly stupid move, and I’ve become something of an expert on stupid moves.”
As she spoke, Mops found herself reconsidering her words. Everything we’ve learned . . . Everything she’d learned had come from the Krakau. Including a falsified history of her own planet and species. How did she know they hadn’t distorted the truth about the Prodryans as well?
Cate’s antennae twitched. “Why would you want me to work for your best interests instead of my own? Such distorted priorities suggest mental illness or brain damage. Anyone so confused would be discharged from their job and heavily medicated.”
“My AI can serve as an intermediary for any access you need,” said Mops. “Doc, make sure any data is buffered and scanned, and keep it walled away from the rest of our systems.”
“I don’t tell you how to scrub toilets. Don’t tell me how to do my job.”
The front part of the cove wall lit up with an image of Earth as seen from low orbit. Mops’ throat tightened at the cloud-brushed view of land and ocean. The sun painted a copper reflection over the blue sea. The continent was a mix of hazy brown, white, and dark green. From this angle and distance, the planet appeared . . . normal.
“There are four known medical facilities for turning human ferals into soldiers for the Krakau Alliance,” said Cate.
Mops had been cured, or “reborn,” in the Antarctic facility. Monroe had been brought to Greenland for his rebirth. Wolf and Kumar were both from an isolated island station in New Zealand. She wasn’t sure about Rubin, who either didn’t remember that part of her past or else chose not to talk about it.
A red dot appeared near the eastern edge of a continent. “Sage’s people are working here, in secret.”
The first four Krakau sites were built in isolated areas, away from feral humans and other threats. Not so with this one. Given the latitude and the mostly-wooded area, the place would be swarming with ferals.
“The following was captured a short distance to the south of the facility,” Cate continued. “I’ll share the precise location once we reach Earth.”
The image changed to a flooded and overgrown stretch of what might once have been a road. Now it was little more than an unnaturally straight river, choked by yellow-and-brown weeds. Snow-crusted trees bowed over much of the water.
The colors and contrast had been artificially enhanced, giving the scene a garish feel. Ice edged the river, and bits of gray slush floated along like dingy rafts. A pole or pillar, too straight to be natural, had fallen across the surface to form a rickety bridge.
“The water reminds me of the summer thaws back home,” said Grom.
A figure appeared by the water. Mops’ hands tightened on the edge of the table.
“All this to show us a feral human?” Azure scoffed. “Earth has half a billion such specimens.”
“This one’s wearing clothes,” said Kumar.
They weren’t clothes as Mops was used to, but the heavy brown fur wrapped around the human’s body was a departure from normal feral nudity. As was the staff or spear gripped in both hands.
“They’re not feral.” Rubin spoke in a whisper. The rest of the room went silent. “Look at their movements.”
The human paused, then stepped onto the fallen pole, thrusting the staff into the water for balance and support.
Mops had seen feral humans up close when the Pufferfish crew reverted. She mentally compared those memories to the human on the screen. “Whoever this is, they look hesitant. Careful, even.”
The river didn’t appear that deep. A feral would have simply waded across, unbothered by the cold.
“A former EMC soldier, then.” Azure waved her short tentacle at Wolf. “We know humans with disciplinary problems are occasionally banished to Earth.”
“Nobody’s threatened to ship me back for four months,” Wolf protested.
“This isn’t an ex-soldier.” Mops had looked into the details of the resettlement process back when she’d been trying to figure out what to do with Wolf. “They don’t get sent to this part of Earth. They’re resettled in one of three islands called Hawaii, Japan, or Iceland. Inhospitable places, but they’re free of ferals and geographically isolated, letting small groups of humans live in relative peace. Under close Alliance surveillance.”
“Humans can swim, yes?” Azure looked from Rubin to Mops. “Could this be a human who chose to leave their island?”
“We assumed the same at first,” said Cate. “Further research demonstrated that humans can only swim short distances. We then assumed they had constructed crude boats, until—” Cate’s antennae twitched. “Would you please instruct your AI to switch to the thermal image?”
“I’m trying,” grumbled Doc. “I’m connected to his Prodryan implant, but his AU interface is difficult.”
“AU?” Mops spoke quietly enough that only Doc should pick it up.
“AI slang, sorry. Artificially Unintelligent. For systems that are so bad, it feels like they were designed to be deliberately stupid.”
The image changed to a maelstrom of color. A key along the top matched colors to temperatures.
Kumar jumped from his seat to study the screen more closely. “Are these core temperatures accurate?”
“The data was calibrated against known environmental conditions,” said Cate.
“Well?” Wolf nudged Kumar from behind. “Pick up your jaw and tell the rest of us what you’re so excited about, would you?”
“Feral body temperature is thirty-two degrees.” Kumar continued to stare. “Cured humans are a little warmer, closer to thirty-three. Thirty-four if we’re active or feverish.”
Mops glanced at the temperature key, then back at the human figure. Her heart beat harder, almost violently, against her ribs. “Go on.”
“This human’s core body temperature is thirty-seven degrees.” Kumar stepped closer, one hand raised like he wanted to touch the screen to verify that temperature for himself. “You or I could function at that temp, but it would mean something had gone seriously wrong with our bodies. We wouldn’t be able to think clearly. Our balance would be off—we’d never be able to cross that bridge. This human looks strong and healthy.”
“What are you saying, Kumar?” asked Monroe.
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He spun around, and his voice sped up. “Thirty-seven degrees was the normal body temperature for pre-plague humans. Normal, healthy, uninfected humans.”
Azure emitted a warbling whistle of shock. Wolf swore. A foul smell suggested Grom had expressed their surprise in the manner of their people.
“Fleet Admiral Sage set up a secret research facility,” Mops said slowly. “Do you think she’s discovered a way to cure us? To truly cure us?”
“That is my conclusion,” said Cate. “Admiral Pachelbel agrees with me. However, with Sage in command of Stepping Stone Station, Pachelbel lacks the authority or resources to launch an investigation of her own.”
Wolf snorted. “So instead, she hooks up with a Prodryan spy, and sends him to ask the most wanted ship in the galaxy to swing by Earth and poke around Sage’s secret lab?”
Kumar turned. “According to the last newsfeed we received, the most wanted ship in the galaxy is an unnamed Prodryan bomber implicated in attacks on thirteen different Alliance colonies over the past three years. Second on the list is a Nusuran smuggling ship belonging to Captain Prov-lovokol-hi, who is accused of seducing and robbing three members of the Glacidae governing council. Simultaneously.”
“She means the Pufferfish.” Mops picked up the rag-covered memory crystal Cate had provided.
“We’ve observed search parties leaving Sage’s facility,” said Cate. “So far, they have failed to locate the human.”
“What makes you think we’ll do any better?” asked Monroe, his white fingers drumming the table.
A still image replaced the video. It was blurrier and looked to have been taken at night. The colors were slightly off; everything had a faint green hue. If she squinted, Mops could make out the form of a human approaching the blocky remnants of an old building. “What is this?”
“This is where the human went when they returned. Fleet Admiral Sage does not have this information.”
Mops didn’t think she was going to like the answer to her next question. “How is it you do?”
“This came from a Prodryan spy satellite in Earth orbit.”
She’d been right. From her team’s expressions, they were just as pissed. “How long have you had eyes on Earth?”
“Eyes on . . .” Cate paused. His head twitched from side to side, like he was reading something on his implant. “I don’t know when the satellite was inserted. It was launched from the edge of this system. The satellite itself was the size of a human eyeball.”
“That’s fourteen billion kilometers,” said Kumar. “That would take years. Decades.”
“The mathematics were quite sophisticated.” Cate cleared the screen. “It may comfort you to know Admiral Pachelbel destroyed the satellite shortly after I shared this data with her. I’m told she was commended for her diligence.”
“You must have known you were giving up your spy satellite,” said Mops. “And that once the Alliance found it, they’d be able to track down any others. That’s a hell of a sacrifice.”
“Not a sacrifice. A trade.”
Mops understood immediately. Earth Mercenary Corps troops retained many feral traits. They felt no pain and were all but impossible to kill. An end to the Krakau plague meant no more unstoppable soldiers fighting for the Alliance.
“I didn’t expect Admiral Pachelbel to agree,” said Cate. “I believe she’s acting out of guilt, or perhaps a different, related disorder.”
Wolf looked back and forth between Cate and Mops. “What’s he talking about?”
Mops didn’t answer. “Grom, how long until we’re ready for that A-ring jump?”
“I can have it programmed in twenty minutes,” said Grom. “We’ll need another two hours to reach minimum safe distance from the sun.”
“Do it.” Mops slid the wrapped crystal into a hip pocket. “We’re going to Earth.”
EMC Combat Incident Report
Date: August 22, 2251 EGC (Earth Gregorian Calendar)
Location: Tixateq system
Report Filed By: Battle-Captain Steve Irwin, EMC Serial Number 10634NZ
Enemy Force (Size, Species, Armament): EMCS Pufferfish, under command of Marion Adamopoulos, human. The Pufferfish has one functioning weapons pod, but their only attack against the Box Jellyfish involved several tanks of modified synthetic skin. The Box Jellyfish was then attacked and immobilized by a total of seven (7) Comaceans.
EMC Casualties: None. However, the Box Jellyfish suffered minor damage when a younger Comacean attempted to engage in amorous activity with the ship. Weapons pod two will require realignment.
Enemy Casualties: None
Has all tactical data from the encounter been uploaded to Command for review? Yes
Other Notes: Operators of Biorefinery Eleven say they intend to sue the EMC and the Alliance for lost productivity. Also, I’ve submitted Leave of Absence Request Form E-71, flagged for expedited processing and approval. Duration to be determined. (Either until I use up my accumulated leave or someone else catches Adamopoulos, whichever comes first.)
* * *
WOLF HAD NEVER BEEN much of a linguist, but she was fluent in twenty-six forms of profanity. Twenty-seven if she had a handful of leaves to shake for swearing in Tjikko. She cycled through every curse she knew as she escorted Cate to the only acceleration chambers built to handle Prodryans.
“Your vocabulary is impressive,” said Cate. “I’ve studied human body language, and you appear unhappy.”
“No shit,” snapped Wolf. “Thanks to you, we’re headed toward the last place in the galaxy any sane being wants to go.”
“Is that why you’re locking me in a cell?” Cate stopped at the brig entrance. Clear doors on either side of a wide hallway led into small, identical-looking rooms.
“Alliance ships weren’t built to carry Prodryans as anything but prisoners.” Wolf shoved past Cate and gestured to one of the doors near the guards’ station on the end. “I recommend cell two, but it’s up to you. They all convert to acceleration chambers, so you should be safe in any of them for the A-ring jump.”
Cate didn’t move. “Have these chambers been properly maintained?”
“Kumar performs inspections in his free time, for fun. He has extensive spreadsheets.”
“You expect me to trust a human with my safety?”
“Very extensive spreadsheets.” Wolf tossed Cate’s armor onto the floor inside the cell. “Monroe says your armor’s built to help you survive acceleration. Since our stock of Prodryan blood thickeners is expired, this ought to keep you alive for the jump. Probably.”
Cate stepped into the cell and picked up one of the larger pieces. When he pressed it to his chest, it clung with a faint squelching sound, even over that ugly yellow shift he wore.
Wolf powered up the guards’ console. “What were you doing on that Comacean, anyway?”
Cate’s arms bent backward to secure the next piece of his armor around his lower back. “A rival family hired me to inspect the Zenkozan refineries for violations of Alliance law. The family hoped to use my report as leverage to take control of the Zenkozan operation.”
“I’m surprised the Zenkozans didn’t drop you into a smelting furnace.”
“They’re constrained by law,” said Cate. “Also, I offered to sell them a copy of my report upon completion, for twice the price. They got a head start to address any shortcomings that could be used against them, and I got paid triple for the same work.”
Typical Prodryan. “What were you talking about back in the Captain’s Cove? What do you get out of this?”
“All of what?”
“This mission to Earth. Helping us. Your lost spy satellite. Is undermining Fleet Admiral Sage worth it?”
Cate paused in the middle of fastening a bulky collar around his neck. “You’re rather stupid for a human, aren’t you? And that’s saying a great
deal.”
Wolf’s arms and fists tightened. “You’re the one picking a fight with a human at least twice your mass.”
“You humans are exactly what makes this mission worth it. The plague turned you into monsters. The Krakau Alliance made you soldiers—too stupid to know fear or pain.” His wings sprang open, the edges gleaming. “I could slice your arm from your body, and you wouldn’t even blink.”
Wolf slammed her fist onto the guards’ control console. The cell door slammed shut. “I could depressurize your cell and decorate the walls with your guts. And I wouldn’t even blink.”
Cate retreated a step, and the metal blades edging his wings retracted. “That was meant as a compliment, not a threat. The Krakau made your people into the most effective warriors in the Alliance. Thus my excitement over a potential cure.” His head tilted ninety degrees. “You still don’t understand, do you?”
Wolf studied the controls. Mops would be pissed if she killed the Prodryan, but she could probably get away with “accidentally” running a cleaning routine.
“If Sage has stumbled upon a true cure, she’ll never share it,” said Cate. “Not willingly.”
“You want to help us get the cure?”
“If such a cure became public, the Alliance’s own laws would force it to stop producing people like you. Every ‘cured’ Earth Mercenary Corps soldier would become soft and weak like your ancestors. This could eliminate the most significant blockage to my people’s inevitable expansion throughout the galaxy. Not to mention the collateral damage when we expose Sage and Pachelbel. The chaos and conflict will ripple throughout the Alliance.”
“What about us?” asked Wolf. “Me and the rest of the crew? Are you planning to kill us once you get what you want?”
Cate resumed donning his armor. “Naturally, I’ll eliminate you all if it’s convenient. But the fate of a few humans is insignificant to the larger picture. One way or another, you’ll all fall to the might of the Prodryans.”