by B. V. Larson
Carlos returned to the scene shortly after that. He had a belcher with him—lord only knew where he’d gotten it. Before I could say anything, he charged up to the tank and blasted the squid in the face with the weapon.
The creature popped, sending chunks of flesh, steaming entrails and boiling blood everywhere.
“Boom! I got that fugly mother!” Carlos exclaimed in triumph.
“Was that necessary?” I demanded.
“What? Seriously, McGill? The biggest ugliest squid of them all shows up and you’re suddenly in love? Is that it?”
“I didn’t think it was dangerous, that’s all. It was unarmed. Natasha wanted to talk to it.”
“Typical bleeding hearts,” he said. “I’ve got news for you: aliens with tree trunk-thick tentacles don’t need weapons. It would have killed you all if I hadn’t shown up and blasted it.”
And thus ended my one and only chance to converse with a super-squid on Machine World.
-35-
After we’d searched the place carefully and made sure no other squids were hiding anywhere, Natasha and I went back to examining the data-displaying globe. Carlos took Kivi down to the main chambers to get her some medical help.
Whatever I thought of Carlos’ actions, Kivi seemed impressed by his efforts to defend her. She was smiling at Carlos, and even gave him a hug as she limped back down the tunnels.
Natasha and I watched them go, and we exchanged smiles. We both figured Carlos might get lucky more than once after all.
The alien globe was a fascinating device, but I sensed I was distracting Natasha somehow. Usually, she’d have been so interested in a new bit of alien tech like this she’d think of nothing else. But she kept bringing up remarks that were strangely off-subject.
“You’ve been doing pretty well for yourself on this campaign,” she said wryly, “as usual.”
I didn’t bother to say anything because I could see where this was going already. She’d always been the jealous type. She’d never liked the way I wandered from one girl to the next on a whim.
Her next question, however, surprised me.
“Have you ever fallen in love, James?” she asked.
“Uh…yeah. Sure. Lots of times.”
She shook her head. “Forget I said that. It was an unfair question.”
“Okay,” I said, and I really did forget.
There was a brief, uncomfortable silence between the two of us. Finally, I thought of another thing to ask her.
“What are you doing with the globe-thing now, anyway?”
“I’m trying to get a good look at their sun. If we can get a spectroscopic reading and a few other elements of data, we might be able to pinpoint where the star is. That’s critical intel, in case this war expands.”
“Ah, great thinking,” I said, and I meant it. We worked together on the globe for a while, and Natasha got her readings.
“I’m not getting an easy match-up,” she said. “Damn the Galactics. If they would only let us use their computers and their nets, we’d have this figured out in seconds.”
“You’ll get it. I’m confident in your technical abilities.”
She rewarded me with a thin smile and a glance. It was the first smile I’d seen on her face lately.
“You want to go back to camp and have dinner?” I asked. “It’s getting late, and I’m hungry.”
She snorted. “Don’t you have a date with Anne going?”
“No, probably not. On this planet I’m always fighting, and when I’m not, she’s busy reviving the aftermath of battle.”
“Right,” she said thoughtfully. “It’s like you work on opposite shifts.”
“Exactly. So, how about dinner?”
She sighed resignedly. “All right.”
We had dinner, and it was better than our usual fare. When a battle was over and we’d won, the legions always brought out the good stuff. The Legion Solstice people had the best food of all. They had shipments of real meat, like whole hams, plus bottles—real glass bottles—of wine and liquor.
One of the best parts of camping in the mines was the increased privacy. We had space and warmth to spare. I’d pitched a private tent in an alcove that once held an alien smelter, and we’d enjoyed the relative seclusion. Natasha used her transmission blocker, and we were on our own all night.
Natasha and I ate, drank and kissed a little, but in the end we didn’t make love. Natasha had given me mixed signals on that front, but I’d ignored them. After all, it had only been a few nights since I’d been with Anne. I would have been with Anne tonight if I’d been given the chance, but I’d tried to find her and discovered she was dead tired after reviving hundreds of dead soldiers.
I didn’t mind missing out on making love to Natasha. Just being with her was good enough. She was different than the other women in my life. She was passionate, and she felt like home to me.
I woke up the next morning feeling great. Natasha was still there, sleeping off the wine we’d consumed together, and I let her sleep in. I stretched out my toes in my spider silk bag, sighing in comfort. The morning was a lazy affair. I figured we were done on Machine World.
Slipping out of our shared cocoon hours after my usual waking up time, I dressed and passed through the flaps of the tent into the cool tunnels. I walked a few steps away, looking this way and that. No one was around.
I kept walking down toward the mess tents, where I was hoping to find some breakfast leftovers. No sooner had I done so than my tapper began beeping.
“McGill?” demanded Graves. “Where the hell have you been? We figured you managed to get yourself killed or fell down a shaft of titanium.”
“No sir,” I said. My mind raced, and I came up with a dodge instinctively. Even first thing in the morning, I was always ready with a glib excuse. “I pitched my tent in a private spot. Maybe I was too close to one of those stacks of titanium bricks, and my tapper was off the grid. Sorry, sir.”
The real truth, of course, was we’d used one of Natasha’s toys. Techs like to build things, and one of the things they built the most often was a cloaking device that scrambled signals in their immediate vicinity. They knew all too well that officers could check on them twenty-four-seven, and they didn’t like it. They knew how to turn off their cameras, their tappers—the works. Whenever Natasha slept with me, she did this as a matter of habit.
“Dammit man, we need you. Our situation has changed. Get to the command module right now.”
My dreams of breakfast ham vanished. Moving at a fast trot, I reached the command module about five minutes later. Frost and loose gravel crunched under my feet with every stride.
As I ran, the cohort server downloaded all the texts and emails and warnings I’d apparently accumulated while I’d enjoyed myself with Natasha. My arm was vibrating and beeping like there was no tomorrow. I didn’t even bother to stop and read them all, I just kept running and saying “shit” to myself every few steps.
“There’s McGill,” Graves said the second I came in. “Get over here, Veteran.”
I trotted to his side. Grim-faced officers were everywhere. I was beginning to worry. What kind of crap was I in the middle of this time?
“It’s the Nairbs,” Winslade said, staring at me with hooded eyes and crossed arms. To me, he looked like my dad when I came home extremely late on a Friday night. “They’re in-system, and they want you on the line before they’ll talk.”
The Nairbs. Those words struck me with a chill. They were the bureaucrats of our Empire, the proxies of the Mogwa. They were pitiless and precise. If there was a tin credit-piece missing when they finished up their accounting, they’d order everyone in town permed. I’d dealt with them before on several occasions, and I’d have to say that neither the Nairbs nor I had ever enjoyed the experience.
On the tactical display the officers had set up in their command module, I could see the Nairb ship. It was the real deal. I knew those Imperial lines. The ship wasn’t equipped for a pitched battle, b
ut I knew they often carried hell-burners—bombs that could extinguish all life on a planet. I’d even seen them in action once, when they’d exterminated a squid colony world.
Feeling little tickles of sweat sprouting all over me, I turned toward Winslade. “Anything you want to brief me on before I talk to them?”
“I don’t want you to talk to them at all,” Winslade replied. “No sane man would. But Turov has already tried, and failed, to get them to tell us what this is about. They just keep talking about a ‘clear violation’ and mentioning your name.”
Every officer’s eye was on me now. I could feel it. The truth was, the Nairbs had a half-dozen good reasons to be pissed off at me personally, and everyone here knew it. Hell, I couldn’t even be sure which of my crimes they’d finally figured out and pinned to my name.
“I’m sure it’s all a misunderstanding, sirs,” I said. “Don’t worry.”
Winslade snorted and rolled his eyes. Graves sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “McGill, I want you to think before you speak. Whatever the Nairbs hit you with, you can’t give them an excuse to take drastic action.”
“We should perm him,” Winslade said suddenly. “Right now.”
“Say, what?” I asked, startled.
Winslade didn’t even look at me. It was like I wasn’t even there.
“We can’t take the chance of putting him on line with the Nairbs,” he went on. “He’ll blab something. We can’t risk the erasure of all Earth over one specialist.”
“That’s already occurred to me, sir,” Graves said. “The idea was discussed and rejected before you even got here.”
“Rejected? Why?”
By about this point, I had my breath back. Open talk of perming me by my own officers had taken the wind out of my lungs. I wanted to speak up, to object to this line of reasoning, but I managed to contain myself. Maybe Graves had a strong point in my favor. I judged it would be best not to mess that up by opening my big mouth.
“To do so would be a violation,” Graves explained. “After reviewing Turov’s initial conversation with the Nairbs, one critical element stood out: She admitted to them McGill was present and alive. They asked that question first, before revealing their intent. It’s standard prosecutorial procedure designed to entrap the guilty. They know he’s alive and with us. If we kill him now, it’s tantamount to an admission of guilt.”
“We can still do it,” Winslade said doggedly. “If he’s dead, they can’t talk to him. What can they do?”
Graves shook his head. “No offense, sir, but you’re out of your league. To the Nairbs, it will smell like a cover-up. They’ll widen the investigation. They’ll draw up new charges. Frankly, it’s the worst thing we could do.”
Winslade slid his eyes toward me at last. He looked at me the way I’d looked at my plate of ham last night—only, he didn’t seem to like ham.
“I don’t know,” he said. “He might widen this investigation all by himself.”
“Our orders from Turov are to open the channel and present him to the Nairbs as they’ve requested,” Graves insisted.
“I’m in command here, not the Imperator. I think we might have an accident first.”
“You’re wrong, sir,” Graves said firmly. “The Imperator is in-system, and she outranks you.”
Winslade’s eyes returned to Graves. “So that’s how it is? I see. I thought you were starting to care about your career again. Very well, open the channel. Let’s hope this doesn’t turn into fiasco that results our collective funerals.”
Once the channel opened, I knew I was in the clear. Winslade couldn’t very well off me while I was talking to the Nairbs live. But I was filled with tension anyway.
An ugly green sack of alien flesh known as a Nairb swam into view on the display. I immediately felt I knew how all fugitives felt when the authorities finally caught up to them and made that fateful arrest. There were too many crimes on my rap sheet for me to sit easily in their presence.
As the Nairb began squawking into his interpreting machine, I began to wonder if Winslade had been right. If he’d gotten his way and permed me, things might have turned out better for everyone.
-36-
The Nairb Prefect stared at me without pity or anger. He seemed mildly curious, that was about it. But that didn’t mean I was in the clear. Humans were barely interesting to any representative of the Empire.
“This creature is the individual known at James McGill?” the Nairb asked.
I looked around for hints, but Graves, Winslade and the rest of them wore faces of stone. I was on my own.
“Yes sir,” I said. “That’s me.”
“You are an anomaly,” the Nairb said. “Our records indicate you were permed more than six years ago. Yet your Galactic Citizenry Identification Number cross-references with several other criminal cases that are still pending. How is this possible?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Sometimes on Earth, our computers confuse one person for another. Maybe it’s the same with databases in the Core Systems.”
Around me, the officers tightened up their faces as if they were in pain. I didn’t care. They’d hung me out to dry, and if they didn’t like how I answered questions, they shouldn’t have put me on the spot with these officials and let me fly solo. They were all too worried about being implicated somehow to openly defend me. Since it was “screw McGill” time, I figured I could say whatever I damn-well wanted.
The Nairb chattered something with another, off-screen compatriot. The second creature answered, and the Nairb then turned his ugly mug back toward me.
“Your suggestion is highly irregular and offensive. Comparing frontier technology to that of the Core Systems is unthinkable. Your comments will be stricken from the official record of this investigation.”
I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad, so I didn’t say anything.
“Let us proceed,” the alien continued. “It has come to our attention that this expeditionary force, launched by the level-two civilization known as ‘Humanity,’ has performed a number of violations in this star system. Your mere presence in this system is unauthorized, and—”
“Hold on a minute,” Winslade interrupted in alarm. “I thought you were only interested in this individual, McGill. What are you really investigating?”
The Nairb’s green, bulbous face turned to gaze at him. The Nairbs had always looked like seals to me, and I couldn’t tell one from the other, so I wasn’t sure if I’d dealt with this individual Prefect before or not.
“You will contain further outbursts. They may be construed as attempted interference with an official Imperial inquiry.”
Winslade fell silent again. He didn’t look happy. People rarely did when they dealt with the Nairbs, and as far as I knew, this was Winslade’s first go-around with them.
The Nairb turned back to me. “As I was saying…it has been reported that this expeditionary force fired upon an Imperial trade ship. You were named as a witness to this occurrence. You will render your testimony immediately.”
Blinking in confusion, I thought about it for a second. They had to be talking about Claver’s freighter.
“We didn’t fire on any Imperial trade ships,” I said. “We fired on ships from the Cephalopod Kingdom. Ships that aren’t supposed to be in this star system, which has been claimed by the Empire.”
The Nairb ruffled himself. That indicated he was getting a little bit excited. It was like watching a dog perk up his ears. He thought he was getting somewhere—not a good sign.
“You witnessed this attack?”
“Yes, from the command deck of Cyclops, one of our warships.”
The Nairb checked with his off-screen sidekick again. “We have verification from two sources, then.”
My tapper began to buzz on my arm. I glanced over, and saw Graves was tapping away on his tapper, no doubt texting me to shut the hell up. I ignored my tapper and Graves, and I kept on talking.
“No, no you don’t ha
ve confirmation from me on anything,” I said. “Listen, we fired on enemy warships, not the trade ship. The trade ship was undamaged, it retreated intact. Surely you can verify that.”
“Immaterial. The neutral warships in question were escorting the trade ship. They had an official charter to do so. By firing on the escorts, you legally attacked an Imperial freighter.”
“But the squids are at war with us! We represent the Empire in Frontier 921. If they are fighting us, and we’re fighting them, we have to be expected to defend ourselves.”
“Your facts are so disorganized they are nearly incoherent. There is no officially recognized state of war between the Cephalopod Kingdom and the Galactic Empire. The jurisdiction of Humans as Enforcers ends at the border of Frontier 921, which you left behind to invade this system. It is your task force that is the aggressor, attacking a neutral entity without authorization to do so.”
In extreme cases, even I know when I’m out of my depth. This was clearly one of those occasions. I took a quick look around at the officers who stood in a mute circle. Their faces registered shock and sick fear. None of them looked to me like they knew what the hell to say any more than I did, so I kept on going.
“Claver,” I said. “He’s behind all this, isn’t he? Doesn’t the accused have the right to know who his accuser is?”
“Yes. The initial complaint was filed by an individual self-identified as Claver.”
“And when was the complaint filed?”
“Fourteen months and six days ago by your accounting of time.”
That one stumped me. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Claver had ratted on us to the Empire more than a year back? That meant he’d done it after Tech World, where I’d killed him twice.
“Fourteen months ago?” I asked. “How could he complain about an alleged crime that hadn’t even happened yet?”
“He did not. He filed an initial charge of misconduct concerning Human interaction with neutral entities on Tau Ceti. Initially, the charge was dismissed, but an investigation was launched as further complaints came in of misused technology, overreaching of local authority and several other lesser violations. We haven’t yet gotten to that part of this investigation. You will be formally charged in due time—the case is quite complex. Be assured, justice will be served and punishment promptly meted out.”
