by B. V. Larson
This time, the flash and thunder of explosions were unmistakable. Something else was happening up there. Something big.
I heaved the crate onto my back and trotted into the tunnels, grunting with every step. My breath came in puffs, but I didn’t slow down. I lumbered awkwardly into the dark and downward. My left foot dragged behind, but I forced myself to endure the pain. I wished I was still wearing powered armor to help me along, but I’d given that up.
The rest of my legion brothers were down there, deep in mountain, huddling in the lowest tunnels and hoping against hope they’d live to see the morrow. As far as I knew, I was the only crazy son-of-a-bitch wandering around on the surface with the exception of a few drones that tended the sensors and com dishes.
It took me the better part of an hour to reach my comrades. By that time, my muscles were trembling from exertion. The burden on my back, heavier than a full-grown man, had long ago given me an ache I wouldn’t soon forget. My limping bad leg had only made matters worse.
Finally, I tottered into the caverns where I was met with the last thing I’d expected: jubilant comrades.
“They did it, McGill!” shouted Carlos, clapping me on the shoulder.
I dropped the deep-link as gently as I could and let myself flop down on my back beside it.
“Did what?” I asked.
“Haven’t you been watching the tactical displays? The show has been better than a ballgame.”
“I’ve been carrying this box down from the surface.”
Carlos shook his head and loomed over me. He looked down and grinned. “You mean you don’t know?”
I wanted to kick him, but I was too tired. Instead I closed my eyes and shook my head.
“The squids came back, man!” he said. “We watched it all—live. The saurian ships met them and they fought. There were eleven squid ships, and the saurians still blew them away. It turns out Imperial broadsides are good for something besides wrecking innocent planets. They toasted all the enemy ships.”
Frowning, I knew something didn’t add up. After a moment, I had it.
“But wait,” I said. “The saurians didn’t have the right license to fire the broadsides.”
“Graves mentioned that in the unit announcement,” Carlos said. “I guess there is a clause that allows them to fire in self-defense. The Empire owns those ships, and they don’t want them destroyed just because no one aboard has a license. They can fire as long as the other side fires first.”
I thought about it hazily for a second, still lying on the ground. What a strange, twisted-up set of rules we lived by. Life under the Galactic Empire had always been like that. You often couldn’t do what came naturally. You had to check and triple-check countless rules. I could imagine the saurian commanders taking the first few strikes while frantically reading their contracts and consulting with legal experts. In the end, they’d apparently decided they were allowed to use the big guns and had unleashed their power.
Struggling to get up, I groaned. Carlos lifted me to my feet. He frowned at my leg. “You’ve got to do something about that leg, man.”
“Later. What about the saurian ships? How many did they lose?”
“Five of them went down! Isn’t that great? Only two escaped the system. That’ll serve those lizards right. They came out here and got themselves snotted—up, down and sideways. Couldn’t have happened to a nicer bunch, huh?”
Another thought occurred to me as I pushed him aside and headed to the command chamber. Maybe I wasn’t the hero of the hour. The saurians had been still sitting in orbit, plotting our destruction right up until the squids had attacked. That meant they hadn’t given up. Maybe they’d been searching for a way they could legally bombard us, or even calling for a Nairb judgment in their favor. Quite possibly, all Claver and I had been able to do was delay them long enough and tie them up in a legal argument until another enemy arrived.
Tired and sore, I ordered a few lounging recruits to carry the crate for me, which they did without complaint. When I got to the officers’ chambers, I was challenged by guards, but they let me through when they figured out who I was. Apparently, they had orders to let me pass.
Tribune Drusus met my eyes the moment I arrived. He looked at me with a mixture of wonder and mistrust.
“Was this battle in space part of your grand scheme as well, Veteran?” he asked.
Everyone was staring at me in silence. I felt those eyes. A dozen officers were present and as many more noncoms. They were curious. They wanted to know how this attack had fallen into place.
I wanted to lie. I wanted to take credit for all of it, but I knew that was a bad path. I couldn’t back up any fanciful stories. Whatever I said would fall apart in the end.
“Sometimes,” I said vaguely, “a man just gets lucky, sir. I do have one more gift for you, however. A deep-link unit.”
That got the attention of everyone, especially the techs. They swarmed me like a pack of hungry coyotes, investigating the crate like it was road kill. Natasha herself was on-hand when the box was opened and did a full diagnostics check on the unit.
“The system appears operational,” she said a minute later, “except for power. There’s no cell. I think we can work around that, though.”
The techs then carted it off to their workshop. Natasha stayed behind and gave me a real smile.
“I don’t know how you got this,” she said, “but you must have dragged it all the way down here from the surface.”
“On my back,” I admitted. “I’m a little sore.”
She kissed me then, and I smiled. Then she was gone, chasing after the deep-link unit with the rest of the techs. You’d have thought it was Christmas.
The excitement of the day turned into exhaustion after that. I found my way to my kit in a lonely chamber. My spider-silk bag was there, and I have to admit, I’d never felt anything quite as good as the moment I eased myself into it.
* * *
I awoke an unknown number of hours later. The chamber was dark except for a few small, glaring lights.
“Have you got the IV in?” asked a female voice. “He’s waking up.”
“I’ve got it, I’ve got it!” Carlos said.
I frowned. Carlos with an intravenous needle? The thought was horrific.
Struggling into a sitting position, I caused both of them to squawk and scramble.
“Hey buddy, just relax,” Carlos said.
The other voice turned out to be Anne’s. I hadn’t recognized her at first. I realized then that I’d been drugged.
“What are you two doing?” I demanded.
“Just lie back and relax,” Carlos said. “We’ll be done in about—”
My big hand lashed out and grasped Carlos’ neck. I’ve got fingers that are longer than normal—it comes with being over two meters tall. I squeezed until his eyes bulged.
“Get that IV out of my arm, you ghoul,” I said, slurring my words.
Anne’s face came up into my swimming vision. I glared at them both with mistrust.
“James,” she said calmly. “This isn’t an attack. We’re trying to fix your leg.”
“I’m not a bad grow,” I lied in a growling voice.
“Of course not,” Anne said soothingly. “We’re not running you through a revival machine. That would have been easier, but we’re trying to fix it the old fashioned way.”
I looked down at my leg then. It was a bloody mess. She had it open with clamps and artificial veins pumping. They’d bypassed my femoral artery with a smart-shunt, and it was pulsating rhythmically.
“What the hell are you guys doing?”
“We were ordered to kill you and recycle,” Anne said. “Graves won’t stand for a man with a limp in his unit. Now, could you please let go of my orderly’s neck before he passes out?”
I looked at Carlos. He was dressed in surgical greens, and his face was purple. Both his hands were working on my fingers, trying to pull them loose, but he couldn’t do it. I was holding
onto him and squeezing with the strength of a berserk.
“Sorry,” I said, finally letting him go. I lay back down and barely heard his stream of curses and coughs.
“You ungrateful ape,” he complained. “My first time in surgery, and the patient tries to kill me. This sucks worse than I expected.”
“You’ll get used to it,” Anne said in a flat voice.
Lying on my back again, my mind calmed. Despite the local anesthetic, I felt them tug and buzz at my leg. They sawed through the femur, twisted it so it would stand straight, then fused it together again using a flesh-printer loaded with bone cells.
“Carlos? Why are you playing orderly?” I asked as they were sealing up my leg.
“I should be asking you how I got this job,” he said. “Drusus ordered it. Specialist training—the last kind of specialist I’ve ever wanted to be. No offense, Anne, but being a bio totally blows. It’s a disgusting and thankless job.”
“None taken,” Anne said in that same, flat voice. I got the feeling she wasn’t enjoying Carlos’ company any more than he was enjoying his new assignment.
I got to thinking of Carlos as a bio. I visualized him working revival machines, caring for the sick and recycling the dead.
A rumble started in my chest somewhere. I don’t know exactly where it came from. At first I thought it was a cough, but it turned out to be a laugh.
Still laughing, I passed out and didn’t wake up again for a long time.
* * *
Summoned to see the tribune, I hobbled through the tunnels on my weak leg. It was straight now and would heal in time, but it still hurt pretty bad.
Drusus looked me over when I arrived. He shook his head and whistled.
“Still operating on a bad grow, Veteran?” he said. “Graves said you were a chicken when it came to recycling, but I didn’t believe it. You’re so personally brave in other arenas. Why not embrace death and a quick revive? It solves so much.”
Frowning, I shook my head. “Sir, I’ve been patched up. The leg is straightened and I’ll be right as rain in a few days. I didn’t want to bother the revival people, they’ve been churning out troops to replenish our losses for days.”
“That’s true enough. Well, I guess it doesn’t matter. Just try not to limp around Graves, it grates on him.”
“Words to live by, sir.”
“Now, as to why I’ve summoned you. We’ve gotten confirmation from the saurians that the ship Claver was on was destroyed.”
He gave me a moment to let that sink in. Once it did, I frowned thoughtfully.
“So Claver is dead, right here in this system. He can’t get a revive.”
“That’s right,” Drusus said. “Not unless we give it to him. What do you think we should do?”
I heaved a sigh. “He helped us out in the end,” I admitted. “Without him, we’d have probably all been permed.”
“That’s one way of looking at it. Another way is that without his meddling, we might have never met up with the saurians here. I think he was instrumental in bringing them to this system. What I don’t understand is how he knew Earth was coming here at this exact time.”
I tossed Drusus a glance then quickly looked away. I couldn’t let him read my expression. It was my suspicion that Turov had collaborated with Claver even before we headed out here. It wasn’t clear exactly what their plans had been, but I was sure they were self-serving on both sides.
“He gave us the deep-link, and he refused to fire the broadsides on our position in the end. In fact, I think the saurians probably executed him for that before any of their ships were lost against the squids.”
“What you say is quite possibly the truth,” Drusus said. “That’s why I asked you to come here. Among everyone in Legion Varus, your perspective on this situation is unique. In short, we have options, and it’s difficult to see how the future might be affected by the choices we make today.”
I thought about that. We could leave Claver dead. Maybe the universe would be a better place if we did.
But that was a hard choice for me to make. Claver and I had a deal, and he’d kept his part of the bargain.
“Sir,” I said, “Claver was a card-carrying bastard. That man could sell his soul to six different devils and swindle them all. But I made a deal with him. If my vote counts, I’d like to honor that deal.”
Drusus nodded slowly. “I felt that would be your choice. Unfortunately, I think I’m going to have to go with my initial instinct and leave the man in his grave. Dismissed, Veteran.”
He turned away, and I was left standing there, blinking. My baffled expression transformed into one of annoyance. I shifted from foot to foot then finally spoke up.
“Sir? I’m sorry, sir, but I just can’t let this lie.”
Drusus frowned at me. He wasn’t accustomed to noncoms arguing with him in his office. I could understand that, but I wasn’t a man who could let something like that go so easily.
“What are you trying to say, McGill?”
“Tribune, why’d you even ask me to come up here? I mean, if you had your mind made up, why bother?”
“Maybe I wanted to confirm something about you. Maybe I wanted to know how a man guided by principle over logic would judge a case such as this. Now that my curiosity has been satisfied, I’m moving on.”
A cold, callous answer. I should have expected nothing less. Tribune Drusus wasn’t like Graves. He had a soul in there somewhere. But he also had a great deal of responsibility. He looked at things differently than I did, that’s all.
I left his office troubled but resigned. Claver was dead and gone. He was stardust, just like we all once were and would be again someday.
-51-
Earth Central Command was surprised to hear our plea on the deep-link. They grumbled, but three long months after the battle with the squids was over, Minotaur came back to Machine World to pick us up.
We rode the lifters away from Machine World with a deep sense of relief. I’m not sure I’ve ever been happier to leave a planet behind.
From space, the planet looked like a cotton ball. It was all fluffy-white with clouds on top and soft blue-grays underneath. The image belied the turmoil we’d gone through to survive on an intensely hostile world.
Imperator Turov was aboard Minotaur, and I could tell right off she wasn’t happy about that. Her face was a good ten meters tall, displayed on the ceiling of our unit’s module. When she spoke to us, she never cracked a smile. She showed her teeth plenty, sure, but that was only because her lips seemed to curl away from her pearly-whites to punctuate every sentence.
“The heroic actions of Legion Varus have been duly noted,” she said, sounding as if she was spitting out nails. “Hegemony has ordered me to provide every member of the legion with the Medal of Honor, bronze rank. Congratulations and welcome aboard, legionnaires.”
A mild cheer went up from the assembled troops. It was nice to get a pat on the head from the brass every now and then, even if it came from the hogs back on Earth.
Turov didn’t beat around the bush when it came to my role in matters, either. She summoned me to her office on Gold Deck, and this time she had me thoroughly disarmed before I was allowed into her presence. I found this stipulation disquieting, but I walked in as if I didn’t have a care in the world.
“Good morning, Imperator,” I said.
She eyed me coldly. “James McGill,” she said slowly. “The man of the hour, if reports are to be believed.”
“Happy to serve, sir. I just do my part the way any other man in the legion would.”
She snorted. “Hardly. What other noncom would dare insert his unwanted nose into every official matter that comes up?”
I didn’t have an answer for that, so I kept quiet. I was standing at attention, staring at the back wall of her office. There was a picture of Earth there, stylized with an image of Central emblazoned over it. I found the image vaguely disturbing. What was it meant to project? The idea that Hegemony’s milit
ary ruled Earth? I told myself I was becoming paranoid and tried to listen to Turov instead.
She was reading me a list of complaints by other officers concerning my conduct on Machine World. Even Leeson had a choice comment or two which had gone into my file. That hurt a bit, even if every word of it was true.
“The same old story, McGill,” Turov said. “You show initiative—to a fault. You fight well, you lead well. But you constantly disobey even basic orders and place your commanders in compromising positions. Honestly, I’m not sure if you’re a genius or an idiot.”
“A bit of both, sir, if my mama is to be believed.”
She stared at me with hooded eyes. “Let us get to the point. I came to this system with a plan. You’re aware of this, yes?”
I took a chance and glanced at her directly. She had that wet-cat look: tail-lashing, pissed off. The cant of her hip as she leaned her shapely butt on her desk told the story, along with the way her arms were crossed and the fact that her eyes were glittering slits.
Glancing back at the picture on the wall, I nodded. “I gathered that you had a plan, yes sir.”
“And yet you sought to do whatever you damn-well pleased? Without regard for my requirements?”
“Pardon me, sir,” I said. “But am I here to be promoted, demoted, or just chewed out for the fun of it?”
“More insolence. I should never have become personally involved with you. That was a mistake, and it has come back to haunt me in countless ways.”
Again, I glanced down at her. I dared to give her a small, private smile. “If it’s any consolation, I have no regrets in that regard. I enjoyed myself thoroughly.”
“Of course you did,” she snapped. “As to your question about your future status, that remains to be seen.”
I nodded. I was being judged. My fate was being decided. Calm and unconcerned, I went back to staring at the wall behind her.
“What arrangements did you have with Claver?” she demanded. “Why did he choose death rather than firing the broadsides for the saurians?”
There, she’d put her finger on it. For the first time, I felt a tickle of sweat under my armpits. I couldn’t tell her I’d agreed to steal the Galactic key from her. That wouldn’t do at all.
