by B. V. Larson
After witnessing this, several officers looked at me in astonishment. This was their first exposure to my performance in the field. My butt seemed to want to crawl out of my chair, but there was no escape for either of us.
“Next clip,” Turov said, “this one is from today’s action.”
She played another vid, again from Kivi. I suddenly understood why Kivi had been trying to warn me I might be in trouble. She’d probably been ordered to surrender these clips to Turov and had surmised I was to be investigated.
This clip showed our final, valiant charge up the root to kill the spiders.
“Impressive,” Graves said. “You attacked with the ferocity of soldiers who know they’re about to die and yet want to strike one final blow. I see in your troops no hint of breaking morale. They followed you up there knowing they would probably die. By doing so, they took the initiative from the enemy without hesitation.”
I nodded. “My squad is the best, sir.”
Turov pursed her lips and froze the clip on the singular image of a spider, dying and curling with acid and bullets destroying it.
“This then, is the essence of my plan,” she said. “We need to take the fight to the enemy—the real enemy. Those who are making the strategic decisions. Claver calls this varied species Wur. Like a hive full of social insects, they have several forms, and all of them serve a purpose.”
As she spoke, she displayed examples of each of the aliens we’d encountered. “These plants have a critical weakness,” she said. “Most of them don’t possess much in the way of a brain. The hierarchy goes something like this: at the bottom are the ferns, which are consumed by the mobile creatures. Next up are the trees. The purpose of the trees is to produce pods and provide a livable environment for the rest. Above them, the spawn of these trees are pod-walkers and other stupid creatures. Commanding the spawn of the trees are these spiders. They are local, tactical leaders.”
The group followed her presentation, nodding with interest. It was compelling. I’d experienced most of what she was talking about, but I hadn’t spent a lot of time figuring out the details of the ecosystem or the enemy’s social structure. I’d been too busy trying to stay alive.
“At the top,” she said, “are these brain-plants.”
Here, she displayed the cactus thing I’d had Sargon blast open.
“Claver refers to these growths as nexus plants,” she continued. “We’ve sent flying drones to locate them. This one was attacked by McGill. See how it fared after McGill’s action?”
More images followed, aerial shots this time. The field of vines and spiders was burnt, dead. The brain-plant had perished, and everything around it had died as well. There were no further signs of activity in the region.
“You see?” Turov asked. “Simplicity itself. While surveying the world and searching for ships, we’ve located six more of these fat cactus-like bastards. They’re the beings that tell the trees to grow pods and which type to produce. They make the strategic choices about when and where to attack. They’re the true enemy we must destroy to win this conflict.”
Drusus cleared his throat and leaned forward. “I assume you want to fire missiles at each of these locations?”
“That’s right. All at once. We’ll strike them all over the planet at the same moment.”
“Are we sure the spiders won’t drive the walkers to attack afterward for the purpose of revenge?”
Turov looked thoughtful. “Some might, but I doubt it will be a coherent mass-attack. Recall when McGill killed the spiders. Some of the walkers nearby attacked his squad. But most wandered aimlessly as if they’d lost their way. My best xenologists say these aliens operate as if they share a large, distributed mind. If you destroy the higher level creatures, the rest will become confused.”
“That’s why they targeted our officers,” I said suddenly. “Maybe they thought we operate the same way. Maybe they thought they could destroy our army by killing our leaders.”
Turov gave me another half-smile. “It could be,” she said.
Graves spoke up then. “Imperator,” he said. “What does Claver think of this approach? He knows them better than the rest of us do.”
“Claver is a fool, a traitor and half-mad,” she said with conviction. “He is self-serving, and I don’t care what he thinks about anything.”
With that, the meeting broke up. There wasn’t really much of a discussion. The battle plan had been drawn up. The targets were being located, confirmed, and slated for destruction in the morning. We were to launch a precision strike across the planet all at once.
I had to admit that if Turov’s plan worked, it would be a stroke of genius. I sincerely hoped that it would.
-35-
It was night time, and the only illumination came from our suits and the landing lights of the transport ship itself. This made for a shadowy atmosphere.
Dead set on getting some food into my belly before they closed down the line, I headed for the tables and tents they’d set up in the area under the lifter itself. Leaving the meeting, I made a bee-line for the chow tent, but I didn’t make it before a dark figure accosted me. Claver stepped out from behind one of the thick titanium struts and got into my face.
“I knew you’d come this way,” he said. “I’ve got talk to you, McGill.”
Glancing at him, I shrugged. “I’m getting a tray of food right now,” I said. “You can join me if you want, but stay on the opposite side of the table.”
Claver chuckled. He followed me in the food line, choosing an apple off the fruit tree. Our meals always included fresh-grown fruits and vegetables. We had special trees that grew whatever was selected the night before. The cooks had selected apples today, and there were plenty left.
I loaded my tray with two heaping plates. I started off with a layer of rice on one plate and a layer of potato-paste on the other. On top of both, I ladled a meat and gravy mix. It tasted like pork—but we all knew it wasn’t.
While I chowed, Claver talked.
“Listen, McGill,” he said. “I know we’ve had our differences in the past. But this is important. You have to hear me out.”
Chewing and shoveling, I gave him a nod. I figured as long as I was going to eat anyway, time spent listening to him wasn’t wasted.
“Okay, glad to see you’re willing hear me out at least,” Claver said, leaning forward. His hand slid across the table toward me. He had a small, black device in it.
Thud! My fork came down in front of his hand, blocking its progress. He yanked his hand back, but left the device. There was blood trickling from his thumb.
“Dammit, boy,” he said. “You’re so sensitive. It’s just a spy-blocker. Settle down.”
I looked the device over. It could have been a bomb or anything else. I flicked it back toward his side of the table with my fork then went on eating.
“Talk fast,” I told him. “I’m almost done with my first plate.”
He leaned forward again, switching the device on. “Okay, here’s the deal: I know about Turov’s plan. Her plan to destroy the enemy brain-plants.”
“She indicated she’d talked to you about it. I take it you don’t like the plan?”
He shook his head. “It will start another war, pointlessly. It’s one thing to have a conflict with the Wur. It’s another to kill all life on one of their colonized worlds. Just think how humans would react to the destruction of a planet full of our kind.”
“We aren’t going to kill them all,” I said. “We’re going to eliminate a certain variety of plant. That’s all.”
“Oh yeah, right,” he said with an unpleasant laugh. He picked up a table knife and held it up between us. “How about I lobotomize you with this?”
“How about I break your neck with these?” I held up my hands.
Claver rolled his eyes. “I’m not threatening you, clod. I’m making a point. If you cut up a man’s brain and send him home to his relatives, they won’t be happy. What Turov proposes will leave a
mindless colony on this world. It might even die of neglect, just like an idiot left wandering in the wilderness.”
Frowning, I nodded. I had to concede his point. From what I’d seen, we would be crippling this world. Was that an appropriate response? Sure, they’d come to Earth and shot down one of our freighters. My parents had even died in the process. But from their perspective, they hadn’t done this to attack our world. They’d run down a pirate ship—Claver’s ship—and destroyed it. Looking at it this way, Claver was just as responsible for the loss as the Wur.
“You’re telling me this is all a misunderstanding,” I said. “One that you caused, by the way, with your failed attempts to trade with them.”
“At least my intentions were honorable,” Claver said. “There are often misunderstandings when two new species meet one another. What I’m advocating is a measured response and hopefully a negotiated peace. Remember, they’re strong and they’re plaguing our enemies.”
Thinking about that, I nodded. “Okay, keep talking. What can I do about this?”
“You can talk to Turov for me. I’ve tried, I’ve done my best, but she’s not interested. Maybe you can make her see reason before she does something that can’t be negotiated away.”
“Hmm,” I said thoughtfully. “You want me to convince her? How the hell am I going to do that?”
“If anyone can, it’s you. Not even Winslade is as good at slick salesmanship as you are.”
I snorted in disbelief and pushed away the last of my food. I’d wiped out seven eighths of it, but somehow Claver had put me off the last bites. I heaved a deep sigh and shook my head.
“I’ll think about it,” I said. “But you overestimate my hold over the imperator. She’s got a mind of her own.”
“Don’t I know it,” Claver said. “You should give it your best shot if you want that kid of yours to keep breathing.”
He stood up, and I did too. I reached a long arm across the table and grabbed his tunic up in a wad.
“Is that some kind of threat, Claver? I could have permed you six ways from Sunday by now.”
“No threat. I’m talking about cold realities. These aliens will come for us some day if we keep pissing them off. Some species out here fear the Empire, while others are just too busy right now—but they’ll all come eventually. The Empire is falling apart.”
I let go of him, and he pocketed his spy-blocker. I stared after him as he disappeared into the shadowy evening. I wasn’t even sure why he wasn’t in chains or dead. The only reason I could come up with was that he’d managed to talk Turov into letting him have his freedom. Maybe he had some dirt on her.
Heaving a big sigh, I mounted the ramp into the lifter. A few checkpoints later, I found myself activating the touch-chimes on Turov’s quarters.
“Enter,” she said.
I stepped inside and was immediately surprised. I’d been in lifters in five different star systems, but I’d never seen a chamber like this one. It wasn’t sumptuous, mind you, but it was well-appointed considering it was merely a room inside a lifter.
The curved walls were covered in silky fabric. The ceiling was relatively high, higher than the usual rooms that often forced me to duck my head. Possibly most startling of all was the chandelier. That’s right, there was an honest-to-God chandelier hanging from the ceiling in the center of the chamber.
Turov came from the back, which I assumed was a bedroom of sorts. She pushed aside a sheet of cloth that separated her private space from the rest of the room. The curtain curled away from her fingers then folded itself back so it hung perfectly straight and still.
“Smart-cloth,” I said, marveling. “You’ve decorated this whole place with smart-cloth.”
“Well,” she said, “there wasn’t much aboard in the way of luxury items when I was revived.”
“Where’s the chandelier from, then?”
“The former captain,” she said. “He didn’t mind if I borrowed it.”
Blinking, I gave her a small nod. Her answers had created more questions in my mind than anything else, but I decided they were questions best left unasked.
“Why are you here, James?” she asked.
I slid my eyes around the room and landed them back on Turov. Despite the fact everyone considered me to be a man full of guile, I was feeling a little uncertain.
While I thought about my response for a second, she stretched against a wall, which enhanced her curves.
“Uh, I don’t know,” I said, smiling. “I just thought there was something different about you today. I thought I’d come find out what it was.”
She smiled.
Bingo, I thought. She was an attention-seeker, through and through. It wasn’t always in a sexual sense. She liked to exhibit her prowess in public in any number of ways. The woman was very good at manipulating her way through life any way she could.
“You find yourself attracted to a superior officer,” she said. “I understand. It’s a common enough occurrence. In this case, although I’m flattered, I have to deny your unspoken request. It wouldn’t be appropriate.”
That had never stopped her in the past, but I was willing to let it go. However, this meant my original plan had just evaporated. I’d come here to see if I could make a connection with her before giving her Claver’s hard-sell. Now, it looked like that wasn’t going to happen.
“Well sir,” I said, standing up and towering over her. “I guess you’re the better of us. I’m sorry to disturb you, I’ll be—”
I didn’t make it to her door. She came around the tiny table that squatted beneath her out-of-place chandelier and touched my chest with soft fingers.
“Sit back down,” she said.
She sounded a little annoyed, but I clumsily did as she asked. She shook her head and tsked at me.
“A lady can’t give in at the first pass, James. Surely, a scoundrel like you knows that. You’re supposed to keep trying.”
“Oh,” I said. “I get it now. How about this?”
I reached up and pulled her down into my lap.
She sighed disgustedly, but she didn’t jump off.
“You’re the romantic equivalent of a lowland gorilla,” she said. “I don’t know what it is I ever saw in you.”
There was a bottle of red wine on the table. I opened it and poured her a glass. She sipped it and offered some to me. I drank a bit, but it was too dry for my taste.
Still sitting on my lap, she finally melted. The woman was a strange one. Sure, she could be a cast-iron bitch when she wanted to be, but she could also warm up in private like no other.
Soon, we were making passionate love. I learned that she indeed had a bedroom behind that smart-cloth sheet. What’s more, a queen-sized bed nearly filled the room. That had to be a first on a military ship like this one.
Afterward we lay together, wrapped in a thin, twitchy sheet. The bedclothes wanted to rearrange themselves over our bodies, but my feet were hanging over the end of the bed and pissing them off.
This was the moment, I knew. I had to make my pitch if I was going to do it at all.
“Galina?” I asked.
“What is it, James?”
“I’m worried about tomorrow. I’m worried about destroying all the plant-brains.”
“Why?”
“Because we might be starting a new war—or at the very least, pissing off a species we only just met up with.”
She laughed. “Why should you care about that?” she demanded. “You make a habit of pissing off aliens all over the galaxy.”
“That’s true, but this is different—these plant-brains might be considered civilians.”
She lurched up and sat next to me. She stared at me with dark, calculating eyes.
“Claver,” she said. “I smell him on you. He sent you here to my bed, didn’t he? That conniving rat.”
“Uh…” I said, caught dead-to-rights. “Listen,” I said. “It doesn’t matter who I may have talked to. The truth is the truth. Maybe we should
reconsider. Maybe we should talk to the plants or at least make the attempt. Everyone has access to the translation app I brought back—”
She gave a hiss of frustration. She threw the sheet off my body.
“Get out!”
I sat up and began to dress. She stared at me with rage in her eyes.
“I should have known,” she said. “People are always trying to manipulate me. You’re worse than Winslade, sucking up like this for something you want.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way, but I don’t think I was any more manipulative than you were today.”
“What do you mean?”
Shrugging, I spread my hands wide. “You’ve always been a beautiful woman, Galina, and you use that mercilessly on the male officers.”
She grabbed up a handful of her squirming sheets and pulled them over her lovely breasts.
“That’s a low thing to say, James,” she said. “It’s rude, in fact. I think you’re obsessed with women’s bodies. To suggest that I’ve misused my personal attributes—”
I put my hands on my hips. “Oh come on,” I said. “You look great and you use it. That’s all I’m saying. Lots of people do that.”
She looked at the wall in obvious irritation for about ten seconds. Then she sighed.
“All right,” she said. “You’re forgiven. Just don’t bring up any more bullshit you hear from Claver. He’s got some kind of scheme running, that’s all it is. Don’t get caught up in it. Now get out of here, I need sleep, and if I let you spend the night, I know I won’t get any of that.”
I left a short time later with a smile on my face. Sure, I’d failed to convince her that Claver was right—but I’d enjoyed the failure, all the same.
-36-
When I reached my bunk at last, I found another woman sitting cross-legged on top of it.
“Natasha?” I asked. “What’s up?”
She looked me up and down while I removed my breastplate and boots.
