All’s Fair in Blood and War (The Kurtherian Endgame Book 4)

by Michael Anderle

  Gabriel laughed. “You’re the worst liar ever.” He sucked in a breath when her elbow met his ribs.

  Shhh!

  Bethany Anne and Michael exchanged an amused look.

  “I’m pretty sure you can lie better than that,” Michael teased.

  Bethany Anne rolled her eyes. “We're having dinner with Tabitha and Peter later,” she told the twins. “You can see Todd then if he’s awake. First we go home, where I have a surprise for you both.”

  The twins quickly regained full use of their legs.

  Bethany Anne called Alexis and Gabriel back from the door with her hands outstretched toward them. “It’s a lot louder than you’re used to out there. You get to ride in Mom’s taxi today.”

  The twins giggled at her lame joke. Bethany Anne took their hands and pulled them into the Etheric, Michael appearing beside them in the mists a moment later.

  I take it this will be a surprise to me also? Michael inquired as Bethany Anne led the way to their quarters.

  Of course, Bethany Anne replied in a tone of voice that implied she was a little offended he even had to ask. I had their room remodeled.

  Michael’s mouth was a straight line. I thought we were done with remodeling?

  Bethany Anne looked at her husband in disbelief. You haven't been in their room since they went into the Vid-doc, have you?

  Um, no? Michael replied. The children weren't using it, so there was no reason to go in.

  Alexis read the silent conversation passing between her parents and pointed it out to Gabriel.

  Gabriel snickered. “Uh-oh, Dad’s wearing the look he gets when Mom’s been shopping.”

  “Yeah, but Mom has the one she gets when she's won.” Alexis giggled. “Hey, Mom. Now that I’m all grown up, does that mean you’ll share your shoes with me?”

  Bethany Anne narrowed her eyes at her daughter and held up a finger. “First of all, you will not be ‘all grown up’ for a long time.” She held up a second finger. “Secondly, I would give you my empire if I still had it, but if you touch my shoes without permission, we’re going to have some very serious words.” She raised an eyebrow, smiling at her daughter. “Besides, don’t you want to start building your own collection now you’re out of your atmosuit phase?”

  Alexis’ eyes lit up, and she clapped her hands. “Oh, Mom, you have no idea!”

  Michael groaned at the same time Gabriel did.

  “Oh, God, no.” Michael started.

  “It’s bad enough that Mom is obsessed. Not you, too!” Gabriel finished.

  Bethany Anne and Alexis flashed identical grins and walked off arm-in-arm to discuss the difficulties of finding a shoe designer who understood that “killer heels” should mean just that.

  Michael and Gabriel shared a look common to despairing males everywhere, of whatever species, in whatever system one found oneself.

  Except the Sardis system, but it was universally agreed the laws of relationships totally bypassed that group.

  “Where are they planning to put all these shoes?” Gabriel wondered aloud.

  Michael shrugged and patted Gabriel’s back as they walked. “I’ve no idea, son. But don’t be surprised if your mother decides she wants some extra storage and a part of the base vanishes behind a wall.”

  Gabriel nodded somberly. “I wouldn’t even blink. I know my mother.”

  Michael chuckled as Bethany Anne and Alexis stopped ahead of them. “Looks like our stop.”

  Gabriel sighed. “Lame, Dad.”

  Michael lifted his hands. “What? It was funny when your mother made a similar joke.”

  “Yes,” Gabriel replied slowly. “Because it’s Mom and she’s funny even when we don’t get what she’s talking about.”

  Michael raised an eyebrow as Gabriel walked off. “And it’s not funny when I make a joke?”

  Gabriel turned back, copying Michael’s shrug. “Well, if you’re comfortable admitting it…”

  Michael saw the flash of panic in Gabriel’s eyes when he realized what he’d just said. He laughed. “You have been spending entirely too much time with Tabitha.”

  Gabriel’s nervous grin dropped. His confusion at his father’s reaction was more than enough to satisfy Michael.

  I love watching you bond with the children, Bethany Anne told him, a hint of a chuckle lacing her mental voice.

  Of course, my love, Michael agreed. And what better way to open up to the children than to let them see my legendary sense of humor?

  You do mean legendary like Bigfoot is legendary, right? Bethany Anne teased.

  TOM says that there were aliens that looked like Bigfoot who would occasionally get stranded on planets. Their technology wasn’t great. It’s feasible that Bigfoot was merely a stranded alien, and not legendary as in “not seen.”

  I’ve been nothing but nice to you, Michael. Why would you shaft me like that? Have I ever suggested I wanted my words to be used in an argument between you and Bethany Anne?

  What are you doing, interrupting?

  The Etheric is causing you guys to flex your mental muscles differently. It’s like the walls between us are too thin when you are talking.

  Huh, was all Bethany Anne offered in reply.

  She took Alexis’ and Gabriel’s hands and the four exited the Etheric into the transfer room of their home.

  Bethany Anne was first to the door. “Okay, cover your eyes and follow my voice.”

  The twins did as they were asked. Bethany Anne backed down the corridor toward the twins’ room. “This way, keep going. Gabriel, step left before you hit the table.”

  Alexis opened her fingers to look at Bethany Anne. “Is the surprise in our room?”

  “Mmhmm,” Bethany Anne answered vaguely. She waved for Alexis to cover her eyes again. “I’m opening the door, no peeking!”

  She guided Alexis and Gabriel into their room. Which was now somewhat larger, suited for teenagers rather than small children, with their sleeping Pods separated from the main room by a Japanese-style partition wall boxing each one into its corner of the room. “Stop right there. You can open your eyes.”

  Alexis dropped her hands and ran over to her Pod, squealing. “It’s exactly the same as our room in the base scenario!”

  Gabriel wandered around checking things. “Mom, how did you get all the details right?” He closed the drawer he’d just opened and went to look in the closet.

  Bethany Anne tapped the side of her nose with a finger. “Secret Mom magic.”

  Michael suppressed his chuckle, knowing full well that Eve held the blueprint for every scenario. “We’ll leave you two to get ready for dinner.”

  QT2, QBBS Helena, Thomas Family Quarters

  “Did you just say your mother is coming to stay?” Admiral Thomas put his stylus down on the breakfast table next to his tablet. His schedule could wait a moment. “Is now really the best time, sweetheart? You have enough on your plate with the station filling up, and there will be a war on our doorstep at any moment. Isn’t that enough to deal with without getting worked up about Helena being here for an extended period of time?”

  Giselle looked up from her own preparation for the upcoming week, exasperation clear in her tone. “Was that the only thing you heard in everything I just said? That's exactly why I'm not getting worked up. Mother is coming to help me with the home side of things. It’s the perfect solution to our childcare issues.”

  The Admiral raised an eyebrow over the cup he’d just picked up. “We wouldn’t have childcare issues if you were willing to settle for anything less than Mary Poppins’ more competent colleague.” He waved off her argument. “I’m not saying that for any reason other than concern for your wellbeing. Helena has a way of getting under your skin, whether she means to or not.”

  Giselle’s smile tightened slightly. “Yes, well, that was before she had grandchildren to focus her attention on. This is the perfect time for us to work past all that.” She flourished a hand. “Look what can be accomplished in just a few m
onths’ time.”

  Admiral Thomas wasn’t sure whether his wife was referring to the completed defenses or their newborn son in his bassinet on the other side of the room. “You’re right. I’ll anticipate her arrival.” He returned his wife’s smile—without adding that his anticipation was the kind people had the night before their execution—and finished the last few bites of his breakfast.

  There was a soft ping from the speaker, and CEREBRO spoke. “Admiral, your transport has arrived.”

  He sighed inwardly in relief and changed the subject quickly, standing to take his plate to the kitchen. “I was hoping the children would wake before I left.”

  Giselle got to her feet and began helping clear up the breakfast things. “They're perfect monsters in the morning. Consider it a lucky escape.”

  “Never,” he vowed.

  Giselle laughed. “See if you still say that when the baby is crying, the twins are arguing over who gets to eat the blue crayon, and you haven’t even had coffee yet. You’d better get going, Your Admiralness,” she teased, tiptoeing to drop a kiss on his cheek as she took the plate from his hand. “Good luck today.”

  “You could use my middle name.”

  She gave him a pointed look. “Or I could use your first name since it wasn’t the name of one of my monumental boyfriend screw-ups.”

  Admiral Thomas shrugged. “‘Your Admiralness’ it is.”

  Giselle snickered. “Whatever you say, Barty.”

  He turned his head at the last second to catch the kiss on his lips and surrendered his plate to Giselle in favor of quickly packing his tablet into his briefcase, which was waiting on the sideboard by the elevator door.

  Admiral Thomas made his way down to the public concourse in the elevator, one of the perks of his wife's position as station manager, and climbed aboard the transport waiting for him. It was one of the automated roamers that had been built for getting around the station when it was still a shell.

  The roamer set off, its destination preprogrammed. The early morning bustle was encouraging.

  Admiral Thomas had never thought he’d be glad to be part of rush-hour traffic again, but here he was, in a line behind three other roamers waiting to use the diversion around Central Plaza.

  People were settling in.

  He allowed his gaze to linger on the barriers blocking off the very center of the plaza, where final preparations for the upcoming ceremony were going on.

  The ceremony was going to be a double-edged thing. He was grateful that Bethany Anne would be speaking.

  Since it was partly a celebration of construction being completed and partly a memorial to the souls lost in the first clashes of the war, he fully expected emotions would be running high.

  What they needed was an outlet for the tension, not the continued ratcheting up of pressure aboard the station to the point where morale was affected.

  That was the last thing he wanted.

  He resolved to speak to Giselle about arranging some entertainment as the roamer entered the transfer station.

  The roamer passed the turns for the public transport links and took the route to the lines reserved for military personnel. There were roamers waiting here too, but his rank came with clearance to pass them and use the express line.

  This was the Admiral’s favorite part. He sat back and waited for the roamer to seat itself on the mag-rail.

  It moved toward the circular door, picking up speed once the wheels had retracted.

  The circular door spiraled open and Admiral Thomas drew a deep breath, as he always did when the roamer shot down the rail into open space.

  Or at least it appeared that way. In reality, the chameleon tech they'd gained in the battle with the grub-like aliens had been used to create tunnels for the rail lines that reflected empty space where the rails ran while appearing completely transparent from within.

  Defensive weapons, the smallest of which were the size of two or three large humans, were mounted at both ends of the transfer rails, set to incapacitate anything that threatened the integrity of the rails.

  That wasn't all the technology had been used for. The Admiral frowned, momentarily reminded of the new Shinigami-type ship Bethany Anne had sprung on him.

  The majesty of the shipyard came into view a moment later, and the annoyance passed when he saw all the ships he now had in return for not kicking up too much of a stink about the Izanami. Qui’nan was a genius, and he didn’t care who he bored with the knowledge.

  After Michael’s visit, the Yollin architect tweaked the design of the shipyard to allow for continuous production—just in case Bethany Anne ever did turn up and drop an impossible order on them.

  Since that visit, they’d produced sixteen new ships of varying class, all valuable additions to the fleet and not a disappearing ship among them.

  They were not truly superdreadnoughts except in size, and while they were all equipped with a version of the Ooken plasma weapons that used the Etheric instead of plasma, they varied in specification.

  Admiral Thomas spotted the Ulysses and the Atlas, the Ballista-class world-killers at berth. The rear of the Grieving Widow was just visible around the curvature of the shipyard.

  That wasn't all of them. The ancillary fleet had also been beefed up—upgraded weapons and shielding on the smaller battleships, and more EI-controlled guard ships to back them up.

  He had a team who was close to working out how to miniaturize the gigantic plasma weapons they’d stolen from the Ooken—and improved on—by enough to mount them on every ship.

  It was a good start.

  The roamer reached the shipyard transfer station. Admiral Thomas waited for the roamer to pull to a stop and headed in the direction of Qui’nan’s library, where she could usually be found at this time of day.

  He had a slight spring to his step as he walked. The Ooken might have the numbers, but he had the beginnings of the fleet of his dreams coming together.

  When he was done, they wouldn’t have a tentacle to stand on.

  3

  Devon, First City, The Hexagon

  “Jacqueline! Jacqueline! Jacqueline!”

  Ricole soaked in the chant of the crowd. She stood up with her hands on the console, leaning into her microphone as she looked down from the commentary box to the Hexagon below.

  Sabine stood in the center of the ring with her whistle at the ready.

  Ricole began her introductions. “A warm First City welcome to the challenger, Shastaaaa the Immovable!”

  At Ricole’s announcement, the crowd went wild.

  With boos.

  Ricole chuckled. “Play nice, now,” she told the crowd, who ignored her and continued to chant for Jacqueline.

  They do not like the rock alien, Demon observed from her perch on the seat beside Ricole’s. Is it because he is inedible?

  The aforementioned rock-based alien mounted the steps to the ring, clutching his boulder-sized hands above his head in a premature victory pose.

  “And in the other corner,” Ricole continued, “We have everybody’s favorite furry fury, the woman you’ve all bet on to win tonight, Jacqueline!”

  The crowd went completely wild for Jacqueline. Her fans were out in force tonight, eager to earn a few credits on the outcome of the fight.

  The Immovable challenger took one look at the young human female approaching the ring and folded his arms. “Oh, no. Nuh-uh. I'm not fighting her. I’m all for having the advantage, but this? This is going too far for the sake of entertainment.”

  Jacqueline nodded to Sira as the young Noel-ni let her in through the cage door. “I know, right? ” she called out loudly. “It’s totally unfair. But I keep breaking fighters, so the public vote went toward finding me a more durable opponent.” She laced her knuckles and stretched her arms. “You seem pretty honorable, so I’ll go easy on you.”

  I love this script, Ricole told Demon over the team link.

  Demon purred. Only Mark could have gotten her to agree to the next part
, which is too funny.

  Shasta is kind of hamming it up, Mark grumbled, but I think it’s adding to the drama. Maybe we should plan to include this kind of performance for the next show.

  Maybe, Ricole ventured. If the audience approves. I’m still not sold on this “acting” instead of having a straight-up fight. Isn’t the whole “a stranger comes to town and gets his ass kicked by a waif” routine a bit much to swallow?

  “But you're so tiny and fragile!” Shasta’s booming voice proclaimed from inside the six-sided cage, one hand on his chest as he swept the other behind himself dramatically.

  You’re wrong, Sabine interjected. Look, they love it!

  The massive screens around the events arena showed a close-up of Shasta, who was milking every second of the crowd’s attention.

  The hand on his chest moved to his head, palm out. “I could never do such a thing.”

  The crowd, for their part, had changed their opinion of Shasta.

  He said in his interview that he’d done some work as an actor, Mark told them. I think he was a good hire.

  Ricole sent an update out to the others. We’re getting a flood of bets on him. Wow. I'd complain about how fickle they are, but Shasta really likes the attention, and I really like the profit that’s generating.

  I bet he'd love a t-shirt line or something, Sabine remarked dryly. Actually, that’s not a bad idea. Let’s start looking into whether it’s worth getting into merchandise. She raised her hands and blew her whistle, signaling for the fight to begin.

  Jacqueline suddenly gained three feet, serrated teeth, and a set of claws just perfect for digging through whatever was in her way. “Arrre you suuure about that?” she asked in a low growl.

  “What is this I see before me?” Shasta threw up his hands in mock-horror, and the crowd broke into laughter.

  Jacqueline began to circle Shasta slowly. “My, myyyy. What biiiig eyes yooou have.” Seriously, Mark. I hate you right now.

  Mark’s deep chuckle rang out across the link. Sorry, babe. The opportunity was there, and just…too tempting. I couldn’t pass it up.