by B. V. Larson
-42-
Imperator Turov gave me a little smile as I entered her office. I could tell she was looking forward to the trial. I reflected that maybe she was happy about the situation. After all, she’d been trying to get me permed legitimately almost since we’d first met. What a cold witch she was! We’d had two bouts of passion recently, but none of that seemed to be impinging on her now.
Tribune Drusus was there, but he didn’t look at me. Tribune Armel arrived a moment later. He had a drink in his hand, and somehow I knew it wasn’t iced tea.
“Here he is,” Armel said with an odd smile. “The famous James McGill. The man who embodies Legion Varus with his roguish charm.”
“Shut up, Armel,” Turov said in a mild tone of voice. “This is a trial. I demand decorum.”
“Right you are, sir,” he said, finding a chair and sinking into it. He took a long slurping drink from his glass and eyed everyone expectantly.
“Let us begin,” Turov said seriously. She took a seat as well.
For my part, I stood at attention facing the three of them. I stared over their heads, studying the wall. My face was as expressionless as I could make it.
“Specialist James McGill,” Turov said slowly. “Where did we go wrong with you?”
I wasn’t sure if I was expected to answer, but I did anyway. If man can’t talk when he’s on trial for his life, well, there’s no justice in the universe.
“Legion Varus wanted me, sir,” I said. “They saw my psych profiles. It’s all there. No one should be surprised.”
Drusus leaned forward. “It’s one thing to see a number on a chart, McGill, and another to have one of your enlisted men mutiny and start an interstellar war.”
As nothing had been asked, I made no reply.
Armel shook his head suddenly and gave a bray of laughter. He was mildly drunk, I could see that now. He rattled his glass and the ice cubes chased one another around in a swirling circle.
“You should give this man a medal!” he said exuberantly. “He’s right—he’s the poster-child for your entire outfit, Drusus.”
“Give it a rest, Armel,” Drusus retorted. “If it wasn’t for Varus, you’d have been out of a job by now. Earth would be toast. You know that.”
“Ha! Fantasies! Hegemony gives you shit-work and tells you how important you are. Haven’t you ever considered the idea that anyone could do these ‘critical’ missions? That they’re left to your misfits precisely because no one else wants to experience whatever meat-grinder planet you’ll been assigned to next?”
Drusus’ face darkened and he began to stand, but Turov waved him back down. She’d been smugly watching the interchange up until this point, but now she seemed to have grown tired of the show.
“That’s enough,” she said. “We’ve talked for nearly two hours, gentlemen. The time has come to make a decision. What is to be done with the defendant? You’ve had plenty of time to come to a conclusion. How do you vote?”
This statement caught me by surprise. I flicked my eyes downward and scanned each face. Drusus and Armel were looking at each other, Drusus was angry while Armel was amused. Turov, for her part, was staring right at me. That look—it made me uncomfortable.
Tribune Armel was all smiles. “Guilty!” he said, leaning forward and swilling down the last of his drink. “Perm him—you really should have done it ages ago, my fellow officers. I can’t comprehend why you didn’t take appropriate action after previous abuses. Now is a fresh opportunity to correct your past errors.”
Armel’s vote wasn’t really a surprise to me. My eyes slid to meet those of Drusus. He was my best hope.
Tribune Drusus heaved a sigh. “I’ve been hoping for years it wouldn’t come down to something like this,” he said. “But I’m afraid I have to agree with my colleague this time. James, you’ve gone too far. We can’t allow people to take policy into their own hands. Surely you can see that?”
I didn’t know what to say. I liked Drusus, and I could see that his decision pained him. Maybe he liked me just a little as well.
“I put you in a bad spot, sir,” I said. “I know that. But I believed then as I believe now that we’re going to have to fight the squids sooner or later. They’re bullies, sir. To show weakness to their kind will only invite further attacks. Regardless of how you people judge me, history will tell the truth.”
“A philosopher!” shouted Armel suddenly. “A prognosticator! A seer of the future! Drusus, really, you shouldn’t have hidden this gem for so long. So good of you to share him with us at last.”
Drusus cast Armel a venomous glance.
I found Armel’s behavior annoying but also baffling. The Tribune wasn’t acting his age. He had to know that the situation was a serious one. Maybe getting loaded, taunting Drusus and perming me was his way of coping with the magnitude of what was occurring in this star system.
All eyes now fell upon the Imperator. As the commanding officer in the system, she could veto the execution—or go along with the verdict and order me permed.
“Gentlemen,” she said, standing up, “please leave me with the accused for a moment, will you?”
This caused a general look of surprise from the Tribunes.
“Imperator?” Drusus asked. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? The accused has been known to turn violent under similar circumstances.”
Turov touched her sidearm confidently. “I think I’ll be fine. Do you really think he could kill me?”
“Frankly…yes,” Drusus said.
Turov frowned. “Get out.”
They hesitated, but only for a second.
On his way past me to the door, Armel gave me a wink and suggestive twitch of the lips, as if he suspected I might well be kissing Turov in his absence. I wanted to punch him or at least flip him off, but I did neither. I was in enough trouble as it was. And besides, I had to admit that if romance was what Turov had in mind, she was going to have her way with me today.
When the two of us were alone, the Imperator immediately came to the point. She opened her top desk drawer and lifted the Galactic key in her hand. The iridescent shell-shaped object was placed on her desk where the screen glowed around it. Usually, desk computers would helpfully identify and connect with any technological gizmo you put on them, but not this time. The desk glowed, but only a question mark in a bubble appeared beside it.
“What is this, James?”
I eyed the invaluable object. My expression indicated vague interest on my part.
“That is a trick cigarette lighter, sir,” I said. “It’s difficult to operate with a human hand, but if you give it to me I’ll show you how.”
She blew air through her lips and rolled her eyes. “I will do no such thing. You will explain this artifact and how it functions. I want to know what role it played in your scheme.”
For the first time since my current body had been born, my lips curved up into a smile. It wasn’t a broad grin—but it was definitely a smile.
“What’s it worth to you, sir? As a condemned man…”
“You aren’t condemned yet. But as your every word is annoying me further, you’re getting closer to that goal.”
We stared at one another for several seconds, at an impasse.
“Fine,” she snapped, reaching out with a finger toward her desktop. “I will summon Natasha Elkin. She will be slaughtered here on my carpet. I will then revive her and ask her about the artifact again. If she doesn’t answer to my satisfaction, I’ll repeat the process until we make planetfall over Earth.”
I frowned. “Why don’t you try that with me, sir?”
“Because I don’t think it would work. At least, not as quickly as it will with Specialist Elkin.”
I sighed. “All right,” I said. “But you have to leave the others out of this. They weren’t responsible—I was. Hell, Kivi didn’t even know what we were up to.”
“Really?” she said thoughtfully. “Then I made a miscalculation in her case. I didn’t think you coul
d pull off something so elaborate without the help of all your comrades.”
“It wasn’t all that elaborate.”
“Yes, it was. You essentially took command of our weapons systems and managed to hit a target of your choosing. Not only did you hit it, you destroyed it.”
“I’m a weaponeer, sir. Legion Varus has trained me well.”
She nudged the key on her desktop. “What does it do?”
“Are you voting to perm me or not?”
“That depends entirely on your answer.”
Chewing that over for a few seconds, I pondered my options. There weren’t many. I could try to jump her, but she was on the far side of a big desk. All she had to do was pull out her sidearm and fire a single shot. Even a representative of Hegemony brass should be capable of doing that much.
“First, I want some assurances,” I said. “I want my friends let off the hook—not just me.”
“Fine—if this item is worth anything.”
“It is, don’t worry.”
“So what is it, damn you? How did you pull off all these tricks?”
“No trickery was involved,” I said. “The magic was all technological. This item is what’s known as a Galactic key.”
I went on for a few minutes to explain the key’s purpose and operation. As I spoke, Turov’s eyes widened.
“I don’t believe it,” she said, picking up the object and turning it slowly in her hands. “This explains so much… I must admit I’m in your debt for having brought it to me.”
I frowned. “It’s mine, sir.”
“No it isn’t. This item belongs to me now. You will also maintain full secrecy as to the nature of it—even its existence. In return, I’ll stay your sentence and pardon your friends. Further, as your entire scheme was my idea originally, I’ll promote you to candidacy for Veteran as a reward for having executed my plans flawlessly.”
My eyes squinted into two narrow lines. “What? Your idea, sir?”
“That’s right. You followed my orders. You succeeded in a clandestine mission. You aren’t authorized to talk about it further with any other persons. Are these conditions clear?”
My face twisted up in disgust, but I quickly saw the advantages of her offer.
“I accept your terms, sir,” I said. “And I hope you’re happy with the way I executed your brilliant plan.”
Turov was barely listening to me. She had the shell-like key in her hands, and she was turning it this way and that, gazing at it from every angle as if it were made of the purest diamond.
“Yes,” she said. “I’m happy with you, James. Very happy indeed.”
-43-
Graves chuckled. “You lucked out, McGill. Do you have any idea what kind of spot you put the Imperator in? She had to say it was her idea. How would this have looked back at Hegemony otherwise? What if they heard that some specialist managed to start a war while she was in command? What do you think the brass would have to say about that?”
“Nothing good I’m sure, sir.”
“That’s right. Her new pretty ass would be in a sling, and her recent promotion would be history. This way, she can make it look like the squids attacked the station and she decided to fire on them. A reasonable course of action a commander might have been forced to take—but not our Turov. She doesn’t like to get into something she doesn’t know how to win.”
I thought about it, and I had to agree with Graves. At first I’d thought maybe she was sweet on me—but I’d since rejected that possibility. She hadn’t vetoed my execution for my sake. She’d done it to save her own skin.
I couldn’t help but compare her behavior now with the way she’d acted when she’d first been reborn. When I’d first helped her out of the revival she’d been all young and smooth-skinned to start with. But Natasha had been right, within a few days the Imperator had returned to her old ways. She was still young-looking on the outside, but in her heart there lurked the scheming rank-climber she’d become later in life.
“There’s another thing,” Graves said. “She wanted the video of her blaming you for everything at that trial. She’s keeping that vid just in case.”
“In case of what, sir?” I heard myself asking.
“Insurance. If the Nairbs eventually show up and want to know what the hell happened out here, she’ll show them the vid file. You’ll have the starring role. The renegade McGill was caught and executed. Case closed.”
I nodded. “And since we all look pretty much the same to them, we should get away with it. I mean—they wouldn’t have to actually execute me. The Nairbs won’t know the difference.”
“Yeah, sure,” Graves said with amusement. “You’ll be fine when that day comes.”
I frowned as I didn’t think he was being sincere. Great. Now I knew of another way for me to die in the future.
Graves cleared his throat and rattled a computer scroll. He smoothed it out flat and put his sidearm on one edge to hold it down.
“These new computer scrolls the Tau sold us are thinner, but they won’t lie flat,” he complained.
“I wonder if they’re knock-offs,” I said. “I suspect a lot of their goods are illegal copies.”
He looked at me sharply then shook his head. “Forget you ever had that thought, Specialist.”
“Consider it forgotten, sir.”
“Good… Ah,” said Graves suddenly, shaking his computer scroll flat again. “I see one more thing.” Working his tapper, he summoned Veteran Harris.
“What now, Centurion?” I asked.
Graves waved for me to be quiet. I felt uncomfortable as Veteran Harris responded to the call and entered the room. Harris looked me over with disdain, while I avoided his gaze.
“Is this man bothering you, sir?” Harris demanded.
“I’m not a school girl in a city park,” Graves laughed. “But yes, McGill always bothers me.”
“I feel the same way,” Harris said.
“Then I’m going to make you happy. Veteran Harris, I hold here a warrant for McGill’s arrest, signed by Tribune Armel himself.”
Harris’ eyes lit up. What a bastard, I thought.
“What are the charges, sir?” Harris asked eagerly.
“Sedition. Acts unbecoming. Assaulting superiors from another legion. There’s quite a list, here.”
“I knew it!” Harris said, staring at me like a dog watching a hamburger. “I knew you’d blow it! Germanica doesn’t put up with your kind of crap. They’re fancy-boys, every last one of them—but they play it by the rules, you have to give them that.”
“That might be the first and only time I’ve ever heard you praise Germanica,” Graves remarked.
“A man has to give credit where credit is due.”
“Well said. Veteran Harris, place Specialist James McGill under arrest.”
Warily, Harris approached me and snatched away my sidearm. I thought about fighting with him, I really did. But something told me I had a better way to play my cards. If I went to the Imperator, maybe she could get me out of this. After all, we had a deal.
Harris was grinning at me like a kid on Christmas morning.
“All right,” Graves said, heaving a weary sigh. “Specialist McGill has now been placed under arrest.”
He lifted his tapper and began recording. He took vid of me standing there with Harris at my side pointing a gun at me.
“I’m performing an inquiry,” Graves said. “McGill, did you cause the death of Germanica troops during our short stay on Tech World?”
“Uh—probably, sir.”
“I’ll take that as a confession. Did you disobey the direct orders of higher ranked Germanica legionnaires?”
“Sir, I worked with those people. I saved their sorry butts. If it wasn’t for me, they’d all be permed.”
Graves waved away my words as if they stank. “Yes or no will do.”
I sighed. “Yes, I suppose I did that.”
“And lastly, did you collaborate with one Adjunct Claver of Germ
anica to perform treasonous acts?”
Bristling, I shook my head. “That doesn’t make any sense, sir. First, they claim I disobeyed the orders of one of their officers then they say I’m in trouble for obeying the orders of another?”
“Just answer the question, McGill,” Graves asked in a bored voice.
“Yeah, sure,” I said. “I followed Claver’s orders. You sent me on the mission yourself!”
Graves glanced at me in irritation. He worked on his tapper, editing the recording. The absurd questioning was beginning to get to me. I began to feel a burning sensation around my neck.
“I’m cutting out that last sentence,” Graves said. “Please keep your remarks to the point. Last question: did you or did you not assault and personally murder Adjunct Claver?”
My jaw clenched, but I managed to answer evenly. “Yes,” I said. “I did kill that weaseling bastard. They should be glad I did it, too. He created the entire disaster on the megahab and caused the deaths of over a million of civilian.”
“Well said,” Graves muttered. “All right then, based on the evidence and your confessions, I find you guilty. I sentence you to imprisonment without appeal for an indefinite period. The manacles, Veteran Harris.”
Harris’ hands shook as he handed over the manacles. I put them on after he pointed his gun into my face.
“Excellent,” Graves said. “Hold those a little higher will you, McGill?”
I did as he asked, but I didn’t know why I was cooperating any longer. This was bullshit.
“Sir,” I said. “I’ve done plenty that was off-script on this mission.”
Harris and Graves shared a dirty laugh over that.
“You’re a master of the art of understatement,” Graves said.
“But sir, I don’t think this punishment is just. How can you lock me up and leave me to rot? I’d rather be permed.”
Harris perked up and he lifted his gun meaningfully. “Maybe we should listen to his plea, Centurion.”
Graves looked at his tapper. “Hold on.”
“Sir?”
He waved a finger to silence me, still staring at his tapper.
