Target: Earth (Extinction Wars Book 5)

by Vaughn Heppner

  “Good. Six will work. The question is, will the captains obey the Ambassador’s orders, no matter how strange those orders seem?”

  “How can I possibly know that?”

  “You can’t. We’ll have to find out the hard way.”

  “I do know this,” Ella said. “The heavy cruiser captains are all from Tepis Clan, the one Loris runs. They’re supposed to obey him. But you’re making this harder than it needs to be. Why not go with the Ambassador as a prisoner, having him order a raid on Acheron? I take it that is your plan.”

  “I’m surprised you have to ask. You already told me the mind conditioning might not hold.”

  “I know…”

  “What is it?” I asked. “You’re keeping something to yourself. Spit it out.”

  Ella watched me as she said, “Your plan seems overly complicated.”

  “It is because I don’t trust Purple Tamika Lokhars and I don’t trust Diana.”

  “It shows, you know? I bet it’s one of the reasons why Diana doesn’t trust you.”

  I ignored her little tidbit of wisdom, and asked, “Is Loris ready to travel?”

  “I could use another several hours to smooth out—”

  “Forget it,” I said, interrupting. “I need to get Loris back now so he’s ready to meet the Prime Minister this morning. Can I ask you for a favor?” I added.

  “Don’t you mean ‘another favor?’”

  I nodded.

  “Go ahead,” Ella said with a sigh.

  “Don’t contact Diana until this maneuver is over. Oh, and stay in the GEV until I get back.”

  “If you get back,” she said. “I have serious doubts about the Ambassador.”

  “I’ll get back. Don’t worry about me.”

  “I am worried. You’ll be a prisoner again—I mean after the Ambassador pulls his stunt—and N7 will have to do this all over again with the phase suit.”

  “Will you do me the favor or not?”

  Ella cocked her head, soon nodding. “You shouldn’t have tampered with N7.”

  “I know. I’ve already said as much.”

  Ella and I both stood up.

  “Let’s get started,” she said.

  -23-

  I now reversed the process, lugging the Ambassador on my back, returning him to his ambassadorial bedroom.

  Once there, I phased in, looking around. It was quiet. None of the furniture had been moved. The heavy curtains were still. I glanced at the replica in bed. It slept soundly.

  “Hey,” I said, softly.

  The replica opened its eyes, and it shifted them sharply, staring to my left as an obvious signal.

  I heard a phut sound even as I turned ghostly again. A dart passed through my midsection. I felt a twinge there, letting me know that I wasn’t normally dense, but enough to have felt something pass through me.

  The dart wobbled in flight and struck a wall. I didn’t hear anything now, as I’d gone ghostly enough that my amplifiers couldn’t easily pick up sound waves.

  Several darts passed through me, some through my chest.

  I turned around with the ghostly Ambassador on my back. Two Lokhars stood in front of the thick, slightly wavering curtains, no doubt having moved out of hiding from behind them. They wore fur-tight garments, the likely attire of Shi Feng assassins.

  One of them glared. The other stood stiffly, with the fur on his head standing up on end. Each of them gripped a dart gun.

  I phased in, watching as they seemed to solidify—I was the one doing that—and I brought up my blaster, using the other hand to keep the Ambassador in place on my back. I fired the disrupter ray. At the same time, I shifted to one side, likely much faster than they could have imagined with Loris on my back. A dart hissed past me. The other assassin—the freaked-out Lokhar, a possibly superstitious one—had frozen in shock while I’d burned him down.

  As the two half-disrupted corpses thudded onto the carpet, I heaved the slumbering Ambassador onto the huge bed behind me.

  I had to work fast. The assassins might have told others about their suspicions. Yet, it was possible the two had worked independently of the ambassadorial staff.

  I asked the replica what had happened while I was gone. It told me the two had shown up an hour ago, quietly opening a widow and slipping inside. For a time, the two had watched the replica sleep. At no point had an assassin shaken it or spoken to the supposed Ambassador.

  Maybe this could still work.

  I had the replica slip out of the Ambassador’s clothes, putting them onto the old boy.

  Meanwhile, I debated strategy. The more I thought about it, the more the two tigers seemed as if they had belonged to the ancient death cult.

  From what I knew, the Shi Feng originated long ago in the mists of Lokhar history, before the tigers ever entered their Space Age and before they turned to Creator worship. In that distant era, the Lokhars followed anthropometric, Lokhar-like gods and goddesses, much like the Greek pantheon. That thinking had changed over time as Lokhar society evolved. In this era—or the last time I’d dealt with them—the Shi Feng had demanded purity and right thinking from Lokhars and an exclusion from other aliens, convinced that only their tiger kind were made in the image of the Creator. They had clung to the Forerunner artifacts such as Holgotha as if they were holy relics. Lokhar legend held that the Shi Feng never failed, although I’d beaten them. In the past, Lokhars granted the death-cult assassins supernatural abilities.

  If the cult had sprung up again under the Purple Tamika rule, that would explain a lot.

  Finally, I grabbed the first corpse and phased out with it, stashing the corpse in a thick wall. When I released the dead Lokhar, it slowly phased in, embedded within the wall.

  I went back and stashed the other assassin elsewhere.

  Finally, with everything ready, I had the replica slump over my left shoulder. I deactivated it and phased into a ghostly form.

  I’d mopped up and then wiped down the spots of spilled blood, but some of the blaster fire had singed the corner of the rug and one of the dressers. I’d moved things around a bit to hide the evidence. Hopefully, the damage would remain hidden long enough.

  I went fully out of phase and started for the GEV. I needed to put away the replica, give N7 the phase suit and have him carry me back to the prison cell in the Rat’s Nest.

  Ella had been right earlier. This was complicated. What made it worse was that I hadn’t practiced any of the moves.

  I phase-ghosted, looked around and found myself in a wall. I phased out, took several steps and ghosted in again. Okay, I was on target.

  Afterward, out of phase once more, I put my head down and trotted as fast as I could go. It was going to be morning soon. I had to get back to the prison cell before anyone noticed I was missing or this wasn’t going to work.

  -24-

  I made it back to my cell in time. Even better, while wearing the phase suit, N7 righted the three sonic-shocked guards and attached inhibitors to their foreheads.

  The inhibitors were disc-shaped and would peel off later as if they were bandages. Each ran through combinations as if the person’s mind was a safe. Finally, each device made a clicking noise, indicating the memory eraser had worked.

  N7 removed the inhibitors, pocketing them and signaling me with a suited thumbs-up.

  I nodded and lay down on my cot, pulling a blanket over my torso.

  N7 turned ghostly, came into my cell and removed the video slates. He walked back to the guards, phased in, pressed a buzzer and quickly phased out.

  At the buzzer sound, the guards raised their heads. Luckily, N7 had set them in their chairs as I’d taught him. None of the guards had slipped off his chair first and woken up on the floor.

  The three raised their heads almost simultaneously. Each covertly glanced at his companions, likely to see if anyone had noticed that he’d had his head slumped. Each seemed to be so worried about himself that he didn’t notice—

  “Hey,” long-armed
Dan complained. “What’s going on here?”

  No. It looked like I’d miscalculated. I bet Dan had a poor self-image, the reason he wanted to fight everyone all the time. It may have also been the reason why he’d used steroids and had become a guard in the first place. He wanted to show the bullies in his past that he really was a tough guy.

  “You guys feel okay?” Dan asked.

  “What are you talking about?” Mr. Polished Head asked.

  Dan blinked at him.

  “We’ve been here all night,” the other said. “Go on. Look at your cards. It’s your bet.”

  Dan hesitated, finally turning and glancing at me.

  I watched him through slit eyelids while feigning sleep.

  “Now what’s the matter?” Mr. Polished Head asked him.

  “Nothing,” Dan grumbled. “I just thought—”

  “Check, fold or raise,” Mr. Polished Head said, interrupting. “Just do something already.”

  Dan studied his hole cards and finally limped into the pot.

  Three quarters of an hour later, word came down that I was going back to the main Government House.

  The third guard got up and ran his nightstick across my bars, making a racket. “Get up, you.”

  I smacked my lips, sitting up slowly, rubbing my eyes. “What time is it?”

  “No tricks, bright boy,” the guard said.

  “What?” I asked, even as I debated disarming them, but knew I might get a nightstick cracked against the back of my head for my troubles. Thus, I ate from the breakfast tray they shoved through the slot, washed up afterward and meekly put my hands behind my back when Dan came in to cuff me.

  As he clicked the handcuffs onto my wrists, he whispered, “Did anything strange happen last night?”

  “Yeah,” I whispered back.

  “I knew it. What happened?”

  “You won a couple of hands.”

  It took him a second, then he jerked my right arm down—it was already behind my back. “Very funny,” he said. “I ought to—”

  “Hurry up, Dan,” Mr. Polished Head said. “We don’t have all morning. We’re supposed to take him over pronto.”

  Dan breathed heavily behind me, finally whispering, “I hope you like the Lokhar Homeworld, fool.”

  “Won’t make any difference what I like.”

  “Yeah? How come?”

  “Because I won’t be going there,” I whispered.

  Dan snorted and pushed me toward the exit. “He ain’t so tough,” he told the others. “Meek as a lamb the whole night. I thought he was going to try something.”

  “You never know,” Mr. Polished Head said, as if imparting words of wisdom.

  “You got lucky,” Dan said, shoving me again.

  I almost turned around and tripped him, but I kept wondering about the Shi Feng assassins. The Purple Tamika Lokhars loved them. The Shi Feng were an ancient guild, full of Lokhar traditions. Usually, the assassins kept to themselves, acting like shadows. Had I slain the only two in the ambassadorial party, or were there more? In particular, one more to complete a triad?

  “Cat got your tongue?” Dan sneered behind me.

  I glanced at him over my shoulder, saw his stupid grin and realized he’d said something else just now. I didn’t bother trying to remember what. A bad feeling grew in my gut. Even if everything went according to plan, a Shi Feng assassin could upset things. I’d have to keep my eyes open, and I’d have to get the others to un-cuff me so I could act if I had to.

  I should have told N7 to lurk at the meeting this morning in the phase suit, as I suddenly had a feeling that this was going to be tricky.

  -25-

  Diana sat on her Victorian throne, wearing an even fancier dress today, one that shimmered with sequins.

  The same company of players had reappeared; General Briggs, the other officer, Spencer, Nancy, the marine guards along the back wall and the red-suited security people around the tables.

  The same combat-armored marine lieutenant stood beside me, with the cuffs behind my back.

  “How about someone take these off,” I said. “My shoulders are stiffening up.”

  Small Police Proconsul Spencer glanced at Diana.

  She wouldn’t meet my gaze, although Briggs had nodded when I’d first entered and Spencer had given me a quiet hello.

  I couldn’t tell if Diana had said anything or indicated in any other way, but Spencer told the marine lieutenant, “Take them off.”

  Diana glanced sharply at her Police Proconsul. I realized then that Spencer had given the order under his own authority.

  The Amazon Queen did not countermand the order, and she glanced at me before quickly looking away.

  “Thanks, Prime Minister,” I said, rubbing a wrist.

  Diana did not acknowledge me.

  I nodded to Spencer. He returned the faintest of smiles.

  “What’s on the agenda today?” I asked Diana.

  She frowned, still without looking at me.

  “Still want to trade me to the Lokhars?” I asked her.

  She glowered at me. “I know you’re lying about not being the Galactic Effectuator.”

  “How do you figure that?” I asked.

  Diana opened her mouth, and snapped it closed with a click of her teeth. She faced forward once more.

  Soon, the double doors opened and the same marine as last night shouted the Ambassador’s arrival.

  Everything went as before, with the ceremonially spear-armed Lokhars leading the way.

  I studied them, wondering if one of them was a Shi Feng assassin. Each of the tigers was large, heavily muscular and moving with athletic grace. I remembered the assassins I’d blown away with my .44 many years ago on Earth. One of them had detonated—he’d carried a bomb in his body.

  “Have you screened the tigers?” I asked Spencer.

  He stared at me from his spot beside Diana.

  Since I realized he wasn’t going to answer, I faced forward as the hippy with his purple-tinted shades preceded the Ambassador.

  Count Loris was bleary-eyed. That was a bad sign. He sniffled, too, as if he had a cold. He moved slower than yesterday, as if he lacked the same energy, which was probably the case. Well, fat boy wasn’t here to win a beauty contest. He was here to do exactly as Ella had programmed him.

  Count Loris rested a heavy hand on the slender Lokhar’s shoulder. The cat actually glanced back at the Ambassador.

  Loris scowled at him.

  The hippy nodded, as if the scowl comforted him in some manner.

  “Welcome, Ambassador,” Diana said. “I trust you slept well and had a momentous meeting with your policy people. We await your decision.”

  “You seem hasty,” Loris said in a rougher voice than yesterday.

  “Then I must ask for your forgiveness,” Diana said. “I have weighty matters on my mind. I did not sleep well.” She glanced at me. “I kept wondering about what would happen to Commander Creed on your homeworld.”

  “Just so,” Loris said. He cleared his throat, adjusted his huge purple gown and paused. He frowned, rubbed his forehead as if a headache had suddenly developed and opened his mouth to speak. He stood like that for five seconds, finally closing his muzzle. He cocked his head, seemingly puzzled.

  “Is something wrong, Ambassador?” Diana asked.

  “I…” he said. “I seem to have forgotten something.”

  “Can we help in any way?” Diana asked.

  Count Loris opened his mouth again and groaned, rubbing his obviously sore head.

  The hippy went lower as Loris’s hand pressed down harder against his shoulder. Without any notice, the slender Lokhar’s knees buckled and he stumbled, going down onto his knees.

  Several ceremonially armed tigers glanced back in surprise. None of them turned to help the hippy.

  The hippy scrambled to his feet. He seemed shamed, bowing low before the Ambassador.

  Count Loris didn’t seem to notice. His mouth was opening and clos
ing as if he couldn’t figure out what he wanted to say.

  The hippy leaned near and whispered to Loris.

  The Ambassador did not look up, but continued his weird performance.

  I suspected, then, that Ella hadn’t remembered her brain-tampering skills as well as I could have wished. Still, she’d told me the Ambassador had a devious mind. Was he struggling to overcome his recent conditioning?

  “Sir,” the hippy said, loud enough for me to hear.

  Loris looked up, and for a moment, seemed confused.

  “Prime Minister,” Loris said, sharply, “please, forgive me. I am not feeling myself this morning.”

  “If it’s any consolation,” Diana said, “neither am I.”

  The hippy whispered again. The Ambassador shook his head. The hippy turned around, facing the throne. The Ambassador rested his hand on the shoulder again, although not as heavily as before.

  “I have an announcement to make,” Loris said mechanically. “It is a change in plans and protocol.”

  “Oh?” Diana asked.

  “I cannot accept Commander Creed,” Loris said.

  Several ceremonially armed tigers turned around again. The hippy glanced back as well.

  “Rather,” the Ambassador said, “I shall summon my ships. You will outfit a party, enough for three vessels, and you shall accompany me back to the homeworld. There, you shall present Commander Creed to the Emperor.”

  “You expect me to leave Earth?” Diana asked.

  “No, of course not,” the Ambassador said. “You must select a representative to act on your behalf. Your chosen marines will witness the commander’s grisly death and report back to you what occurred.”

  “I’m not sure I understand,” Diana said. “You’re not accepting Creed as a prisoner?”

  “That is correct,” Loris said. “He will remain free in your representative’s custody until we reach the homeworld.”

  “But I thought your Emperor wanted Creed a prisoner.”

  “In the proper time and place,” Loris said. “Now, I will retire. I am feeling taxed—”

  The hippy tiger whirled around with a hiss. “Traitor,” he said. He slashed the Ambassador across the face with razor-sharp claws that erupted from his paw-tips. They seemed like ordinary claws, like those that every Lokhar possessed.