by B. V. Larson
I was finally beginning to catch on. Claver had been working with the Nairbs all along since he’d escaped us back on Tech World. He’d been out to screw everyone who’d thwarted his plans then through the byzantine Galactic legal process.
As a general rule, humans avoided Galactic Law. It was just too dangerous. You might want to accuse your nephew of embezzling a few credits from your family-owned company but end up perming most of your relations as a side effect. Normally, no one would want to take that kind of chance.
But Claver—I knew this rodent pretty well. He didn’t care who got hurt, as long he reached his goals and got even with anyone who stood in his way. Accordingly, he’d been filing criminal charges with the Nairbs for years. The Nairb ship couldn’t have gotten here so quickly if they hadn’t been lurking around this region of space. They must have been watching us. They’d waited until they had a serious charge they could nail us with. They’d finally jumped in and slapped us with crimes they already knew we’d committed. It was a setup, a fait accompli.
What galled me the most was that they’d used me to confirm the crime and admit our guilt. I felt like the dummy Claver was always claiming I was.
“Let me ask one more question,” I said.
“Highly irregular. The accused is wasting the court’s time, and the situation is bordering on contempt.”
The accused. That’s what I was. I was standing trial right here, right now. That’s how the Nairbs liked to do things; they knew what was going on, while you were hit with something from out of the blue.
“Nevertheless, I believe I’m within my rights to ask questions that help me understand what I’m accused of.”
“Proceed,” the Nairb said grudgingly.
“Why isn’t there a state of war between the Empire and the Kingdom?”
“Such a state has not been officially declared.”
“But this species blew up a ship at Dust World—Zeta Herculis. Check your records on that.”
“Immaterial,” said the Nairb. “The perpetrators of that crime were annihilated on a neighboring world.”
“But the squids have a kingdom,” I insisted. “A multi-star civilization. Destroying one of their worlds isn’t enough to eliminate the threat.”
“The perpetrators are all listed as deceased. The matter is officially closed.”
“Then you Nairbs made a mistake.”
“Insults will not improve your odds of survival, McGill-creature.”
I heaved a sigh. This Nairb was a poster-child for his species. They were unbending, prickly and arrogant.
“All right then, answer me this: How can Claver, a known criminal, just waltz in here and fly a freighter around, negotiating as if he represents the Empire. We represent the Empire officially, not him.”
“There are no outstanding warrants nor open investigations against Claver. If you wish to file a complaint, the nearest office for doing so is located in Frontier 921—where your jurisdiction ends, I might point out.”
Nodding, I thought it over. No one had charged Claver with a galactic-level crime because we’d figured he was dead. He’d as much as told me he had another body going somewhere when he died in our custody back on Tech World, but apparently, no one had been concerned enough to go through all the work it took to involve the Nairbs.
“I’ve got one more request—” I began, but the Nairb didn’t let me finish.
“Request denied. The court has been more than patient with your insolent questions, McGill-creature. Summary judgment has been reached. You will report within an hour to our ship for processing. If you do not, the Human task force will be held in contempt and charged with aiding and abetting a fugitive. Court adjourned.”
The channel closed. I was stunned. I stared at the display, which now depicted only Machine World and the ships in orbit above it.
Looking around the group of officers, I was surprised at their expressions. They looked relieved. A few, such as Winslade, even looked happy.
“Well,” he said, giving me an appraising up-down glance. “An inexpensive solution has been reached. We’ll deliver the guilty party to the Nairbs, and the case will be closed. It could have gone much worse.”
“I don’t see how,” I said, “from my point of view.”
Winslade clapped a collection of skinny fingers on my shoulder. “I want to thank you for this sacrifice, McGill,” he said. “As your commander, I’ll log a note to your parents explaining that although you died as a criminal convicted of Imperial High Crimes, you took your punishment honorably and thereby saved two legions.”
Turning slightly, I glared down at him. His fingers retreated hastily, and his smile faded.
“So that’s it, huh?” I demanded. “You’re just going to let Claver get away with perming me? He’s not done with you yet. He’ll keep at it. He’s the real enemy here—surely you people can see that.”
Scanning the faces of the officers, they looked troubled. They studied the displays. Only Graves looked me in the eye—but that man could put a gun in his mother’s mouth without showing any emotion if he thought it was the right thing to do.
“McGill,” Graves said. “You’ve got an hour. No one here can do anything to help you. I suggest you spend your final minutes wisely, and then you’ll be transported to the Nairb ship for processing.”
That was it then. My heart sank. If Graves wasn’t going to stand up for me, I was lost. I nodded grimly to Graves.
“All right. I can see I don’t have any friends here. Remember me in your dreams, comrades.”
I walked out on them but quickly noticed I wasn’t alone. A trio of MPs trailed me. They weren’t going to let me hide or escape. They’d grab me and drag me to the Nairb ship when the time came.
It was comforting to know that someone finally gave a damn about what happened to me.
-37-
Before I could get to the Nairb ship, I needed to be in space. Accordingly, I took a lifter they had waiting for me up to Cyclops. The pilot suggested I just fly directly to the Nairb ship to save time.
“I’ve got an hour,” I said, glowering at him. “And I intend to use it.”
There was only one person I could think of who might be able to alter the course of my destiny. I headed over to Turov’s office on Gold Deck and tapped on her door.
She took her sweet time opening it. As a man with only forty-odd minutes left to breathe, I felt her delay in my bones.
“McGill?” she asked when she finally answered the door. She appeared to be surprised to see me. “What do you want?”
“May I come in, Imperator?”
She considered for a moment then waved her hand in resignation. “Very well.”
She moved behind her desk and fooled with a pile of computer scrolls and her tapper. I stood at attention in front of her, waiting. After a full minute passed, I lost my cool.
“Sir?” I asked. “I’ve only got a few minutes left to make my case.”
“What?” she asked, distracted. “Oh yes, the conviction. Very unfortunate. Now, if you’ll excuse me, McGill, I’ve got a battle report to—”
“No sir,” I said. “I can’t excuse you. I have to talk to you. There are certain realities between us that must be resolved before I surrender myself to the Nairbs.”
“What realities?” she asked, but I could see I had her attention. Her eyes were on me, and they were hooded and distrustful.
“I know about your key—since I found it in the first place. I could tell the Nairbs about it.”
“I doubt they would listen.”
“Are you willing to take that chance?”
She pinched her pretty mouth into a tight line. “This kind of weaseling is unseemly,” she said. “Take your punishment like a man. You deserve it, even you must admit that.”
“No less than you do,” I said, and I found I had raised my voice a fraction. I was almost yelling—I couldn’t help it. “You helped push Xlur’s air car off the roof back at Central, same as me.
You ordered me to pull the trigger, in fact.”
“Slanderous statements. Wild accusations made by a desperate criminal in his final moments.”
“That’s not—”
“Not true? No, of course it isn’t. But that’s what the Nairbs will be told. There is no evidence to support your wild charges. Even Xlur himself never made a complaint. You have nothing, McGill.”
“Well then…” I said, thinking fast. “Just agree to one thing, and I won’t bother to press further. I won’t make any accusations at all.”
“Name it.”
“Revive me when the Nairb ship leaves the system. This doesn’t have to be a permanent thing. Put me back on the line in Winslade’s cohort. The Nairbs will never notice.”
Turov heaved a sigh and for the first time she looked troubled.
“I’m going to lay my cards on the table, James,” she said. “If you were anyone else, I’d lie to you. I’d assure you that I was going to revive you. But I can’t lie to a man of honor such as yourself. The truth is that I can’t allow you to return to life.”
“Why not?”
“The Nairbs already figured out that something improper happened the last time. If it happens again, that becomes more than a mistake. It becomes a conspiracy. A flagrant disregard for the justice system. They could drag all of Earth into the mess. Can you understand that I can’t take that risk?”
What hurt the most was that I could see her point of view. It wasn’t fair, but if a single man had to be permed to save all of Earth—well hell, I’d do the same thing.
“So I’m screwed,” I said, “that’s what you’re saying?”
“Yes. I’m sorry.”
I drew myself up and saluted.
“Goodbye, Galina,” I said. She flinched at the use of her first name, but made no complaint. I marched out of her office. Her eyes lingered on my back as I left, I could feel them, but I didn’t look back at her.
I took a pinnace to the Nairb ship minutes later. My commanders had it all gassed up and ready to go—very considerate of them.
Moving as quickly as I could through airlocks and security points, I was stripped of weaponry and deposited on the Nairb ship. Checking my chronometer, I had about twenty minutes to go when I arrived.
They didn’t even have an escort to greet me. Instead, there were yellow arrows on the floor to guide me to the processing center.
The gravity was light, putting a spring in my step as I followed the arrows like an animal being led to slaughter.
It galled me a little that the Nairbs were so certain of their power and supremacy they hadn’t even bothered to put me under guard. It was insulting. I knew from experience that they liked to stay in their offices, but you’d think they could come out to take a personal interest in their prisoners.
I followed the arrows for several minutes. I’d been in Nairb ships before. They were big, empty affairs. Chambers echoed with nothing in them. I’d always wondered what else they might be used for under different circumstances. Maybe the overly spacious ships were built to impress, or maybe they were just examples of wasted tax credits and misallocated funds. Either way, they were lonely places to wander for a convicted man.
When I reached the processing center, I was greeted by a familiar face. Claver was there in one of the witness seats off to the left.
The processing chamber itself consisted of four projectors aimed at a circular scorch-mark on the deck. I could only imagine that I was supposed to stand there and let them burn me down to atoms.
Nairbs fiddled with the controls, and the projectors slewed and tracked upward a bit. I think they were adjusting their execution machine for my considerable height.
“Welcome to the end of the line, McGill,” Claver said. “I hope you don’t mind if I watch justice as it’s being served.”
“Not at all. I think I’ll join you.”
Careful not to enter the central execution area, I circled around the chamber to approach the witness gallery. Claver stood up in alarm and watched me suspiciously.
“What are you doing? Your place is right there. See that burn-mark in the center? The floor there is made of stardust. Material so dense it can’t burn. The projectors are powerful and quick. Don’t be afraid. You won’t feel a thing.”
“I’m not afraid,” I said truthfully. I gave him a little grin.
We both stood about five seats apart in the gallery. I waved for him to be seated and took a chair myself. The Nairbs ignored both of us while fooling with their equipment and barking at each other in their odd language.
“See?” I said. “Nairbs can count. They know I still have about fifteen minutes to report. They don’t care what I do until then.”
Eyeing me distrustfully, Claver sat down slowly. Then we had ourselves a good, old-fashioned stare-down. It made me feel happy to see worry in his face. He thought he had the tiger caged—but he wasn’t absolutely sure of it.
Claver finally shrugged and tried to relax. We watched the Nairbs go about their work. I reflected that in the old days, prisoners were often treated to the sight of watching their executioners build gallows to hang them with. The difference here was a matter of speed and efficiency. I only had a few minutes left.
What would it feel like to stand there and be blasted into a wisp of white-hot plasma by multiple intersecting beams of energy? Probably, it wouldn’t feel like anything at all. One second I’d be standing there, and the next I’d be a puff of expanding steam and dust particles. I tried to tell myself I’d been through worse—because I had—but somehow that wasn’t good enough.
“You’re going to stand there and let them light you up?” Claver asked.
“That’s the plan.”
“I can wait for that,” he said, crossing his arms.
“So can I,” I said, relaxing and leaning back in my chair. It creaked with my weight. It wasn’t shaped exactly right for a human, but it worked well enough. I took my boots off and put my feet up on the back of the chair in the row in front of me. I did my best to look like a man who didn’t have a care in the world.
-38-
Claver tried to match my performance, working hard to look like he didn’t care—but he failed. He looked nervous, and I thought I saw a trickle of sweat run down his cheek. He kept eyeing me, my bare feet, and the execution system.
Finally, he couldn’t take it any longer.
“I know you, boy,” he said. “You’re as dumb as a sack of hammers, but you’ve always got an angle. What are you trying to pull off? I don’t accept for one second you’ve come here to submit to execution.”
In a way, his attitude bugged me. He had no honor, so he automatically assumed others were the same way. In the past this flaw in his character had allowed me to manipulate him. Deciding to have a little fun before I died, I narrowed my eyes and put on a nasty grin. Then I slid my hand into my jacket pocket.
“You want to know if I’ve got a surprise coming, is that it?” I asked. “You’re just the man I’d like to show this to—”
Claver’s eyes widened as he stared at my hand in my pocket. “Hold on! Hold on! Easy now, big fella! We’ve got a misunderstanding here, that’s all. I’m on your side.”
I hesitated. I had nothing in my hand other than a half-eaten chocolate bar I’d kept after yesterday’s lunch. For laughs, I twisted my fist around inside my jacket so the rectangular shape bulged oddly under the fabric. Claver watched this display with equally bulging eyes.
“You’ve always been a man who’s willing to die for a cause, I get that,” Claver said, talking fast. “But this isn’t the time. I can help you out. I know what you want—you want to blast this ship to hell and back, don’t you?”
Admittedly, I was taken aback. So that’s what he thought? That I was some kind of suicidal, walking bomb? I tried to think of a way to play off his misconception, but I couldn’t think of anything good.
For fun, I kept playing the part he’d given me, looking mean and fondling my chocolate bar. S
crewing with Claver was the only source of joy I had left.
“You guessed it,” I said in my meanest, crazy-redneck voice.
“Okay, I’m with you,” he said. “In fact, it’s a good plan. We can’t keep talking here, though. They might get suspicious. I’ll just—”
He got up to leave, but I shook my head and stood up with him, my fist big and round in my jacket.
“No Claver,” I said. “You’re not going anywhere. You’re part of this show.”
“You should let me help you out—”
“I don’t need help, or tricks,” I said. “You’re going to die, old man. Right here with me. Look me in the eyes. I’m the last sight you’ll ever see.”
“Hold on! Let me make you an offer.”
“What are you talking about?” I demanded.
“I’ll revive you after you blow up this ship,” he said. “That’s the least I can do. Give me your data—I’ll do it, I swear. Just let me get off this vessel before you activate your detonator.”
I pretended to think about it, enjoying myself.
“Don’t worry about my next revive,” I told him. “I’ve got that covered. But you—it sounds like you don’t have any way to get out of this.”
He looked nervous. “What do you think? That I’m some kind of wizard?”
“Right,” I said thoughtfully. “The only revival machines in frontier systems are those brought in on big ships. That means our legion battlewagons and this Nairb Prefect’s vessel. Once this ship is gone, that’s it, because I’m betting Turov isn’t sweet on you right now. At least not enough to bring you back to life on her ship.”
He didn’t answer, he just grimaced. As I thought about it, I understood his position. He was worried about getting permed himself. That fear had caused him to jump to conclusions about what I was up to. Fear, plus my reputation for reckless behavior in situations like this one, had made my bluff work.
