by B. V. Larson
“What…? Oh…” I said, viewing the screens.
Ships swarmed Earth. Hundreds of them. They were so thick in numbers and size that they looked like an asteroid swarm in a tight orbit.
“Is Earth…?” I asked her.
Natasha worked her boards feverishly. “No, not yet. There’s no sign of radiation, and the atmosphere is no more stirred up than usual.”
We all breathed sighs of relief.
“What are we going to do?” Natasha asked me.
I was no starship captain, but I knew I had to make some hard choices and act like one.
“You think they know we are in-system yet?” I asked her.
“Probably.”
“Dammit, I’d hoped to beat them here. This scout ship should be faster than the battlewagons.”
She shrugged. “It probably is, but I’m no master at operating a Nairb vessel. Those warships are built by shipyards in the Core systems. Even if they’re outdated by Mogwa standards, they can still move fast.”
“Right… Well, we can’t just run off now. Move toward Earth like we own the place.”
Natasha bent to her work. Soon, the big ship turned, lurched into gear, and headed toward Earth. It didn’t take more than a few hours before everyone took notice of us, and old Grand Admiral Sateekas himself was on the screen again.
“Centurion,” Natasha whispered to me before I had the chance to say ‘hello,’ “Central wants to talk to you too.”
“Right… but I can’t be rude. Conference-up the calls.”
“What is this delay?” Sateekas demanded. “Why am I being kept waiting by beasts?”
“I’m sorry, Grand Admiral,” I said. “We’re not a professional starship crew.”
“That is a lie,” he said flatly.
Alarmed, I looked around the room. I’d told a lot of lies in my life, some only this morning, but this time I’d spoken the God’s-honest truth.
“Uh… what did I say that was wrong?”
“We observed your maneuvering in battle firsthand. It was masterful and brave beyond description. I’ve had two of my own captains flayed and killed repeatedly while they were forced to observe your example. They will be revived when the process is finished with two steps lost in rank.”
This was all news to me, and it was somewhat disturbing, but I’ve never been a man to pass up on praise.
“You think we did pretty well then?” I asked. “Did you hear that, Central? Are you recording this?”
“We are, McGill,” said a pissed-off and very familiar feminine voice.
It was none other than Galina Turov. Seeing her again made me wonder how she’d recovered her rank and position back at Central after the failed invasion of Earth. That woman was twice as slippery as Winslade, but at least she was pretty.
Natasha put Turov up on the screen split with the Mogwa admiral. It was quite a comparison.
“Grand Admiral,” she said, “I want to apologize for all of Earth, regarding any problems McGill might have caused you. He’s a disobedient braggart, who—”
“Silence, creature!” the Mogwa boomed. “He is your best. He is your finest. He all but committed suicide before my eyes at my slightest whim—an exemplary minion. If I possessed a thousand like him I’d have won our recent conflict in the Core.”
Galina shut up. Her face went red, and her lips were a tight line, but she stopped talking and shook her head in disbelief.
“Now, McGill,” Sateekas went on, “I haven’t been able to tell you how pleased I was with your attack. You single-handedly saved me a hundred ships, if my strategists are to be believed.”
“Really?” I said. “I thought it might have been more like two hundred.”
The Mogwa made farting sounds and quivered. I assumed he was laughing.
“Yes! That’s the spirit! It makes my duty now all the sadder.”
“Um… what duty is that, sir?”
“Why, the removal of your species, of course. It’s always like this on the frontier. A promising, aggressive breed is identified. Rather than attaching the yoke and cinching it tight, the prissy beings from the home stars begin to flap their limbs and bleat about regulations.”
I swallowed hard, sensing the importance of the next few moments of this conversation. Galina had changed her attitude as well. She’d gone white now, rather than the flushed red of anger. But she was still staying quiet. Her eyes studied me, and they were pleading.
Taking in a breath, I puffed out my chest and regarded Sateekas. To me, he seemed more grounded and reasonable than your average snooty Galactic.
“Well sir,” I said, “perhaps we can work something out. What’s the nature of the problem, exactly?”
“It’s very simple, really. You’ve fought hard and well. But you’ve also spawned technology that is dangerously advanced. That AI ship—it was as good as our best back home.”
“You’ve got that kind of tech?” I asked. “With the phasing, the lateral slashing of that beam, and—”
“Yes, yes, of course,” he said. “Did you really think this collection of rust-buckets was the pride of the Mogwa fleet? Hardly. Battle Fleet 921 is a made up of outdated patrol boats. We don’t need our main battle-line ships out here on the frontier, you see.”
The funny thing was, I did see. Empires always operated like this. Back in Earth history, Europeans had their best armies arrayed along their borders in Europe. Out in the bush, they sent cast-offs along with soldiers that needed discipline. The Colonial officers weren’t always the favored sons back then, either. They were people the rulers were just as happy to place in an outpost in the weeds.
It occurred to me that Sateekas himself had to be just such a creature. He was probably irritating to his fellows back home. An old warrior who was so blunt, so practical, and so intolerant of foppish behavior he was a liability in the Emperor’s court. Because he was effective, they’d given him a command, but he’d been assigned to the worst of duties due to his personality.
I could commiserate with old Sateekas. Under different circumstances, I might even have been able to call him a friend. But today was a special day, and I had to get my mind into gear.
“So,” I said, “you’re saying that because the rogues built that ship, we all have to go?”
“I’m afraid so. It’s a typical situation, really. I must apologize for discipline that may seem strict to you. That display of firepower is unacceptable on the frontier. There are other violations, of course, but that one cinched your fate.”
“Hmmm,” I said chewing it over.
All around me, my crew was pale. They looked like they were already dead. They knew we couldn’t fight the battle fleet. Sure, there were only about eight hundred main-line vessels left, but our navy consisted of less than a hundred ships. Not to mention we were easily outclassed by the Galactics in addition to outnumbered.
No, this had to be done without fireworks. The problem was figuring out how…
“Well then,” Sateekas said, giving himself a shake. “Time’s pressing. If you would be so kind as to fly your ship into your local star, I’d be grateful. I’ll go so far as to put a positive footnote into my log about your species.”
“Uh…” I said. “That’s a mighty fine offer, Grand Admiral, but if you could indulge me for just a few more moments? I promise not to pester you for long.”
He made a rasping sound. I thought it might be a sigh.
“Be quick about it.”
“Yessir. Firstly, why didn’t you dust off Earth already? Surely, you’ve got plenty of planet-busters on board for the purpose?”
“Thousands of them,” Sateekas assured me. “We’ve plotted out the precise placement. Enough to be sure, but not wasteful. No more than fifty will do the job. The atmosphere will be gone, the oceans boiled off, but we don’t have to dig down to the magma. That’s inefficient overkill and I won’t have it.”
“Good thinking… but you didn’t exactly answer my question, sir. Why’d you wait?”
“I thought that was abundantly clear, creature. Perhaps I overestimated your cognitive powers—but no matter. We waited for your ship to return here. Otherwise, we’d have needed to go off searching for it. Fortunately, you saved us that valuable time. I’ll think of it as a final service on your stellar record.”
“I live to serve,” I said. “But there’s another thing bothering me.”
“Really? Be quick about it!”
“Why is Earth being blamed for the actions of the rogues?”
“Blamed? You’re not being blamed, you’re being credited. That’s just as bad in this case, of course. The rogue animals were human, you’re human, therefore all humans must be expunged.”
“Ah!” I said, brightening. “I think I’ve put my finger on the source of our mutual problem, sir. The rogues weren’t human. Not at all. They might have looked human, but I assure you they were not.”
The Mogwa studied me for a second. I heard another chattering voice off to his left, and I thought to see just a flash of a green flipper. Could this guy have Nairbs aboard, telling him what kind of protocols he could and could not break? I bet he did. We all had our masters, in the end.
“You are in error,” Sateekas said. “I’ve just gotten confirmation. My science team is ninety-nine percent sure you’re a match. There are no preserved specimens to study, unfortunately, but judging by habits, appearance, and a dozen other parameters, my crew—”
“What about DNA?” I asked. “What if there is a significant variance in our DNA?”
Sateekas ruffled himself. “That would be conclusive, of course, but as there is no DNA to test—”
“Hold on,” I said, “I’ve got some DNA. A small sample, but it might be enough.”
Everyone aboard my ship stared at me. So did Sateekas. He looked annoyed, but it was hard to decipher the expressions of a Mogwa.
That green-flippered bastard off to his left began chattering again. Sateekas listened and then turned back to the viewscreen.
“Are you making a formal motion to stay action on the basis of new physical evidence?”
“I am,” I said loudly.
“This is most unusual. It’s more than that, it’s troublesome. I’m almost ready to take back all the praise I so recently heaped upon you and your squalid little species, McGill.”
“I’m really terribly sorry to give you trouble, Grand Admiral,” I said. “But this is rather important to me and my people.”
“Typical self-centeredness,” he complained. “I’m seeing it everywhere. In fact, I’m going to strike the positive note from my log after your species is eradicated.”
“That’d be a sad thing, sir,” I said. “But I can understand how you feel. Now, what’s the next step in resolving our motion for a stay?”
Things became technical after that, and I stepped back from the view screens. Lawyers showed up at Central, and they argued with the Nairbs. Each side filed briefs, codified rules, and all kinds of other garbage to certify the results of a DNA test as valid.
In the meantime, Natasha pulled me aside and whispered harshly in my ear.
“I don’t know if I can do it, James,” she said, breathing shallowly.
“You look like you’re in a panic, girl,” I said. “What’s wrong?”
“Your promise to produce evidence we don’t have, that’s what. Earth can’t do it. They’ll quarantine this ship first, that’s what they’re talking about now. That means we’ll have to rely entirely on what we have at hand. You’ve put me in a terrible spot, James—I mean, don’t get me wrong, you did what you had to do, you lied, and—”
I gripped her arm. She lifted her eyes to meet mine. I could see that the weight of all the world was on her shoulders. She was in a full-blown anxiety attack, and she could hardly think.
“Settle down,” I said in soothing tone. “We’ll be all right. You don’t have to do anything. I’ve got the evidence—at least, I think I do.”
She stared at me without comprehension.
“You have DNA from the lab people? Where? Why?”
“Um…” I said, feeling slightly embarrassed. “Well, you know how we haven’t taken showers for days…? I’m still wearing the same clothes I had on the day we left Arcturus IV.”
I stopped there, and I stared into her eyes. I knew she was a smart girl. She would figure it out eventually.
When she finally did, she slapped me, and I smiled sheepishly.
-62-
Natasha’s hand pulled back for another swing, but I caught her wrist. I did it gently, so I wouldn’t break it. I actually had practice with that maneuver, having been slapped by any number of angry women on various occasions.
“You should be happy,” I told her.
Still breathing hard, she dropped her eyes, and her hand fell to her side.
“You’re telling me you’ve got Floramel’s DNA in your pants, aren’t you?” she demanded. “You pig.”
“That’s right. At least, it should still be measurable. We—”
“I’m not going to do it,” she said, crossing her arms. “I’m not going to dissect your disgusting underwear to prove anything.”
“Natasha, you probably won’t have to. They’ll send up some kind of expert or something.”
She aimed a trembling finger at the viewscreen. “You haven’t been listening, have you? You never listen!”
“Well… I heard some parts.”
“Right. They’ve decided no representatives from either party will be allowed to handle the evidence on this ship, on the grounds it might introduce contamination. They want a joint delegation to come here and observe while we extract and display the test results ourselves!”
“Hmm…” I said, chewing that over. “That does sound indiscreet. But listen, we might be saving all of Humanity. You should be happy I’ve got an alibi for us.”
“It’s still upsetting, James.”
“Yeah, I understand. I guess I’ve got a weakness for a pretty face. You know that. Everyone does.”
Natasha sighed. She still wasn’t meeting my eyes, and it made me feel bad. I’d had a thing for her for years. She’d felt the same way for much longer. I didn’t want to hurt her, but I needed her to help make this thing go right.
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly, “I’m a jackrabbit when it comes to women. I understand how you might hate that. But you and I haven’t been together for a long time. And on this single occasion, my character flaw might actually help save Earth.”
“I’m glad, in a way,” she admitted. “Okay, I’ll do it. But I’m telling you, James McGill, as God is my witness, if this doesn’t work out, and they decide to dust off Earth after all—I’m going to kill you personally. As my final action.”
Smiling, I took out my sidearm, handed it to her butt-first and nodded. “In that case, you can be my guest, Specialist.”
“You realize this ‘evidence’ might not help us? The rogues were based on humans genetically. They appear to be adapted from our line, manipulated artificially, but who knows how the Nairbs will judge such a case?”
“If you’ve got a better play, you’d better make it known right now.”
Natasha sighed. “Find a plastic bag or something. They’re shipping up a genetics kit both sides have approved of. I’m going to do this as a professional.”
“That’s the spirit!” I boomed at her, but she gave me a dirty look.
Carlos was ordered to help her, as the unit’s last surviving bio. When he discovered what the sample was—he freaked out a little.
“No way!” he exclaimed. “This has to be some kind of a joke. McGill is screwing with us again, isn’t he?”
We painstakingly explained the situation to him, and he reluctantly aided Natasha in the procedure.
“You owe me for this, McGill,” he said. “If Kivi and I ever have a baby, you’re changing its diapers until he’s potty-trained.”
“You’re on, Ortiz. Now, get in there and do it right.”
&n
bsp; Grumbling, he worked with Natasha. A few hours went by. That’s all that it took. Our equipment was pretty good by now, with medical automation having reached advanced stages.
I would be the first to admit I was a little nervous when they finished up and turned in the sample with the preliminary results. Natasha herself looked sick.
“How’d it go?” I asked her.
Her face was ashen. She gave her head a tiny shake.
“I did what I could,” she said. “But I don’t know how this will go, James.”
That concerned me. Natasha was a worrier of the first stripe, but she had a handle on technical things like this. If she thought the whole test was a failure—it probably was.
More waiting began as Grand Admiral Sateekas’ crew went to work on the data we’d provided. They took longer to get back to us than Natasha and Carlos had.
“They have to be debating the findings,” I said, daring to hope. “That’s good, isn’t it?”
Natasha nodded slightly. Something about her demeanor tipped me off. I began to question her about the nature of what she’d found. She responded with noncommittal, vague statements.
Before I could get anything useful out of her, Grand Admiral Sateekas finally got back to us. He glowered through the projected image. I didn’t know much about Mogwa emotions, but the way his limbs were squirming he looked pissed off to me.
“I’m speaking to the McGill?” he asked.
“Yes, Grand Admiral.”
“Good. I wanted you online to witness the first of many executions.”
My blood went cold. So it was to be killing time. If he asked me to execute my crew, I knew I wouldn’t do it. I’d order Natasha to flee or even attack. Sure, our transport couldn’t outrun them or do so much as scratch a line on their smallest cruiser’s hull, but I wasn’t going down without a fight.
“This creature,” Sateekas continued, “has bitterly failed us.”
The camera view shifted to include the figure of a Nairb. The green blob of flesh looked deflated.
“I don’t understand these findings, Lord,” the Nairb said. “They’re impossible to credit.”
