by B. V. Larson
“I’ve been waiting for you,” she said at last.
“What for?”
She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she gave me a reproachful look and crossed her arms.
“I had no idea you were still making visits to Turov’s quarters.”
Denials sprang to mind, but I rejected them all. Instead, I sat on my bunk beside her. She scooted away to the far edge and frowned at me.
“What about it?” I asked. “What can’t wait for tomorrow’s attack?”
“Not bothering to lie about it? At least that’s an improvement.”
“Yes,” I said, “I visited Galina tonight, and I’m willing to own up to that. Are you willing to admit you spied on me to figure out where I went?”
She shifted uncomfortably. “I’ll admit I accessed the personnel tracking system. That’s part of my job as a tech.”
I snorted and put my head back against the wall. I closed my eyes.
“Gave you a workout, did she?” Natasha asked.
“Come on, Natasha. I fought a battle today and marched across miles of blasted land. Give me a break.”
“Okay. You’re right, and I’ll try to forget about Turov. I’m here because someone among us is sending off-world messages.”
That statement got me to snap my eyes open again. “Who?”
“If I knew, I would have said.”
“What kind of messages? Sent where?”
“I don’t know. They’re encoded, encrypted. But someone is doing it. Whoever it is, they’re sophisticated enough to set up a shield-bubble around themselves. A barrier that keeps me from knowing who there are, or precisely where they are. I can only guess that it’s one of our techs. Who else would have the skill?”
Climbing off my bunk, I rearranged my tunic and teased the nanites into sealing my breastplate into place again.
“Can you give me a hint as to the source?” I asked.
“The general location is inside or around this lifter. Sorry, that’s pretty vague, I know. They aren’t transmitting right now, and I doubt they’re sitting at the same spot waiting to be caught anyway.”
I looked at her. “Why are you telling me this? Why not one of the officers?”
She chewed her lip. “Because I thought it might be one of the officers—Turov or Winslade. Remember Tech World and Machine World? They’ve made back-channel deals before.”
Understanding her concerns, I nodded. If one of our top commanders was the guilty party, it would be very difficult for a noncom tech to accuse them.
“Do you think it’s Turov?” she asked.
I asked for the exact times of the transmissions that she was able to give me. I found I could personally vouch for the imperator’s innocence. This didn’t please Natasha, but she understood.
“That leaves Winslade. No one else could have access to this kind of sophisticated equipment.”
“You’re forgetting about one other possible culprit: Claver.”
She stared at me. “Isn’t he in the brig?”
“Maybe he should be,” I said.
Leaving Natasha behind, I went in search of Claver. I asked around and finally found him outside the ship, sleeping in the trenches.
That puzzled me. I crouched over his sleeping form, my boots sending crumbled bits of dirt into the trench. Why was Claver outside? Why not wrangle a bunk in the lifter? Either the officers had tossed him out here, or he’d exiled himself.
“You going to shoot me or strangle me this time?” Claver asked.
He didn’t look like he was awake, but he was. I wasn’t surprised. You didn’t live a long life as a rodent like Claver if you weren’t alert to danger at all times.
“Lovely night out here,” I said. “Plenty of fresh air, soot…and just a touch of residual radiation.”
Cautiously, Claver unfolded himself from a sleeping position and sat up. He eyed me from the bottom of the trench.
“How did Turov take my recommendations?” he asked.
“She hated them.”
He chuckled. “Why am I unsurprised? What did you do, just walk in there and tell her ‘hey, Claver says to change around all your plans’?”
“Something like that.”
He sighed heavily. “I thought you were a smooth operator. I thought you knew how to push a lady’s buttons.”
“I did my damnedest.”
He cocked his head, climbed out of the trench, and looked me over. “You slept with her, didn’t you?” He laughed uproariously. “Good job then. I take it back. You did your best. That woman is almost impossible to sway. Pity.”
“Why are you out here, under the stars?” I asked. “Why not sleep in the lifter? You’re a civilian, but you still have special status as a trader.”
“Because I knew I couldn’t count on you. It would have been so much better if I could have. I had to take action. Now, events are in motion, and they’re out of my control.”
I looked over my shoulder at the lifter. The silvery skin of the ship reflected the bright stars of the region. Here and there, floodlights illuminated patches of the scorched ground beneath the transport, but most of the landscape was black.
“Someone or something is going to hit the lifter,” I said. “That’s what you’re telling me, isn’t it? Is that what you arranged?”
“Nonsense,” he said. “I’d never do that. You’re paranoid. A good trait for a Varus legionnaire, I get that, but wrong nonetheless.”
He started to climb out of the trench, but my hand shot out and pushed him back down.
“What?” he sputtered. “You trying to arrest me again, boy? On what kind of trumped-up charges this time?”
“I know about your transmissions. I know you’ve been sending off-world messages.”
Even in the dim light, I could tell he looked startled.
“That’s crazy-talk,” he said. “You’re clearly delusional, Veteran. Don’t worry though, it’s just death-lag. Happens to a lot of good men. You get a little funny in the head after a rough battle and a revive.”
“I didn’t die out there,” I said. “And I don’t get traumatized by death in battle, anyway. Not anymore.”
He looked me over appraisingly. My eyes were uncompromising, and my grip on his arm was unbreakable.
“Look, McGill,” he said. “You can arrest me or even kill me if you want to, but it won’t do you any good. Let me give you a piece of advice: all that matters in the real universe is who holds who’s leash. Remember that.”
My thoughts swirled around in my head. I was seriously considering shooting him on the spot. I could try arresting him instead, but it seemed pointless. If I shot him right now, though…that might change the future. Unknown disasters might be averted. Maybe not the calamity he’d summoned this time, whatever it was, but possibly the next one.
“Back on Tech World,” I said. “You were my prisoner. You tapped on your tapper and summoned an unholy army of the Tau to assail my legion. That was a dark day, and you were full of excuses as to why you did it. I think you’re going to have to answer for your sins one day, and maybe, just maybe, today is that day.”
“I’ll come back,” Claver said confidently. “I always prepare for a death. I’m ready for it.”
“You might be prepared for a regular death,” I said, “but I’m not talking about that. Have you ever permed a man, Claver?”
He blinked at me. “Accidentally, maybe. Like the Tau back on—”
“No,” I said. “I’m talking about a human. A man who’s accustomed to catching a revive now and then. Someone like a legionnaire, or a Mogwa. You ever permed such a being?”
“No,” he admitted, looking at me curiously. I clearly had his undivided attention. “I can’t say that I have.”
“I’ve done it,” I said. “Not officially. Not because I was ordered to. I did it on my own initiative. I know it can be accomplished, and I might be moved to do it again someday.”
Claver squirmed. “You aren’t a tech,” he said. �
�You’re not a bio, either. You’re just a weaponeer with an extra stripe. In short, I don’t believe you.”
“You doubt my will to take such an action?”
“Not at all. You’re a killer through and through. A brute of a man who’d as soon wash his hands in blood as soap and water. But you don’t have the skills.”
“I’ve done it,” I repeated, “and someday, I’m sure I’ll do it again. I might not have fantastic technical skills, but I have something you don’t.”
“What’s that?”
“Friends. Friends with the power to do things I want done.”
We stared at each other grimly in the dark. Finally, Claver blinked and looked down.
“Maybe we should talk then,” he said.
“I think we should. Who did you contact?”
“Business associates,” he said. “Powerful ones that can deal with the problem Turov has created. They’ll be here soon—and don’t bother to ask about postponing their arrival. They won’t turn back now. Not even if you put a stake through my heart this instant.”
A frustrated growl escaped me. “Why the hell do you care so much about these plant-brains?” I demanded. “You’re selling out your own people for a bunch of fancy vegetables. They’re freaks, Claver. These aliens would kill us all in a heartbeat. What’s wrong with your brain?”
I was losing it, raising my voice. In response, Claver gave me a smug smile.
“You’re missing the point entirely, and I can’t say I’m surprised by that. You’re as dumb as the stick you write with McGill, and that reality is showing through again today. Really, I’m shocked you’ve managed to give me so much trouble in the past.”
“Insults don’t help get a man out of being permed,” I told him. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“My apologies. I’m struggling to come up with a way to explain a complex topic to a man of your intellect. It’s quite a challenge.”
Feeling myself losing my temper, my grip on his arm tightened. As I was wearing metal gauntlets, the pressure exerted was painful.
“Claver, I swear, if you don’t start talking plainly, I’m climbing down into this trench and if that happens, you’re never getting out of it.”
“All right,” he said. “I’ll make the attempt. To start with, you have to understand my perspective. I don’t want all-out war. I want a balanced conflict. I want the various sides in this part of the galaxy to maintain a sort of equilibrium. No one should ever be defeated or declared the victor. Except for the Empire, that is. I want them to lose this war and get out of our space for good.”
Shaking my head, I tried to grasp what he was saying. “You don’t want Earth to kick these plants out of our territory?”
“No,” he said. “Of course not. Look, as long as there’s a healthy war on, I can sell materials to both sides and make a handsome profit every step of the way. Peace? That means no trade. Victory? Defeat? Same result, refer back to peace.”
I stared at him for a few seconds. I was starting to understand how he thought, how he looked at a situation. He was fantastically self-centered—but it went beyond that. He’d actively participated in political events to stir the pot of war. He wanted endless conflict without a break in sight.
“How does that goal jibe with protecting the brain-plants?” I demanded.
“The Wur are vulnerable due to their centralized intelligences. They can be defeated that way, but I don’t want them to be defeated. Can you understand that?”
Standing up, I took in a deep breath. The night breezes were up, and the air didn’t taste half-bad.
“You’re a monster,” I said. “That’s what I get. But at least you’re true to your principles. Sleep in your trench, Claver, if you can. We’ll see who wins in the morning.”
I left him there and walked back to camp to find my bunk. I didn’t bother to report to Turov or anyone else. What would be the point? Claver was either truthful or full of crap. Either way, we’d know by morning.
I never glanced back at the man in the trench. He could have run off or shot himself—I just didn’t care.
-37-
The squids showed up the next day. It was a fresh disaster for Legion Varus, piled on top of a long list of them.
“James?” Natasha called me, sounding out of breath. “Come to my location. It’s an emergency.”
I grabbed my morph-rifle and followed my tapper to her location. She was sitting under the lifter’s ramp in the cool shade beneath the ship.
“What’s got you?” I demanded, seeing her sitting there.
She was staring at her tapper. She didn’t look hurt, but she did look upset.
“Sit here,” she said. “Look at my tapper and listen closely. I don’t dare turn it up.”
Frowning, I moved to her side. I’d been expecting an alien attack, at the very least. This business of hiding under the ramp was a disappointment.
But Natasha was nothing if not reliable. If she thought her tapper was displaying an emergency, then I knew it probably was.
The vid I saw streaming on her wrist was alarming, I’ll give you that. It displayed the face of a cephalopod captain. He was decked out with one of those golden collars they liked. It had a lot of pressure points all over it, like buttons. I watched as he ran the tip of various tentacles over those points, causing transmissions to be sent.
“You will submit or be destroyed,” the alien captain said.
The squids always talked like that. They were slavers by trade, and they only understood dominance and submission. The idea of diplomatic negotiations as trusted equals—that just didn’t compute in a squid’s brain.
His words got me to thinking about what Claver had said the night before. Something about leashes and who had captured whom. That must have been a hint, I realized now. A line like that could have come right out of any squid’s mouth.
I heard Turov’s voice next, although the streaming vid kept displaying that vile squid.
“Captain Torrent,” she said sternly. “You’re in violation of our treaty. This system is within the boundaries of Frontier 921. You have no right to order an Earth ship to do anything here.”
“Technically, you are correct. At this moment, a state of war does not officially exist between us, and our two species have made certain agreements regarding Gamma Pavonis. However, a situation involving the honor of the Cephalopod Kingdom has arisen here on this planet. A situation that we can’t ignore.”
“You must be talking about the infection of alien plant life we’ve discovered here,” Turov said. “Have no fear, it will be excised soon. You do not have to take any action to support us.”
“Your statements are so disorganized as to be rendered meaningless,” Torrent said. “We do not want you to harm the plant species resident in this system. The fact that you have clearly already done so might be sufficient grounds for the war you so richly deserve. I can only go back to my superiors after this world has been scrubbed of your taint and hope they will see things with a clarity matching that of my own six eyes.”
“I don’t understand,” Turov said, sounding concerned for the first time. “If you’re in conflict with this nomadic species why would you attempt to stop us from destroying them?”
“Our motives are our own! Your ship and your invasion forces are being monitored. You will not fire missiles at the nexus plants. Any attack upon the nexus plants will be construed as at attack upon this vessel.”
Turov was quiet for a few seconds. I wasn’t sure if she was conferring with her officers, or if she was just confused.
“Don’t listen to that slime-bag!” I shouted at the tiny screen. “My legion doesn’t take this kind of bullying from anyone!”
Natasha gave me a wry glance. “I can see why Turov didn’t invite you to speak with the cephalopods this time.”
I stared at her tapper angrily. “We’ve got to get back into space. It sounds like Torrent hasn’t figured out yet that Minotaur is crippled. If he knew that, we�
�d probably be toast by now.”
Turov informed the squid she would consider her options and then broke the connection. Natasha lowered her tapper and looked at me.
“What are we going to do, James?” she asked. “With that squid ship up there—they could destroy us at any moment. We can’t even use Minotaur to defend ourselves.”
“There’s only one squid cruiser up there, right?” I asked.
“As far as we know.”
Nodding, I felt the sick sensation of a missed opportunity. If we had taken Minotaur already, we’d be in the clear.
“Turov was wrong,” I said. “We should’ve launched an all-out attack on Minotaur with the lifter yesterday. Do or die, we had to retake our ship. In a space battle, one imperial dreadnaught is worth several squid ships.”
She shrugged. “That doesn’t matter now. It looks like we’re at their mercy.”
“Squids don’t even know what mercy is. Can you track down Claver for me again?”
She did so, and we followed the signal out to the mess tent.
He was in line for breakfast, talking up a couple of young, female recruits. They were smiling and shaking their heads at his outlandish compliments.
My hand closed on his shoulder, and I yanked him backward right out of line. He wheeled around staggering, eyes big. When he saw it was me and Natasha, he snorted.
“You had me worried,” he said. “I thought one of these girls had an ape for a boyfriend—but lookie here, it’s just McGill. What’s the matter, boy? Don’t you get enough tail on your own?”
Manhandling him toward the ramp, he came along willingly enough until he realized I was taking him up to the officers’ deck.
“I don’t want to talk to Turov,” he said. “There’s no point.”
“That’s not your choice,” I said. “I should have dragged you to her last night.”
When we marched together into the conference room, only Turov, Winslade and Tribune Drusus were present. None of them looked happy to see us.
“What is the purpose of this intrusion, Veteran?” Turov demanded.
“Claver here called the squids,” I said. “He confessed to me.”
