by B. V. Larson
“Who sent you?” I asked the drone. “Let me guess—Kivi.”
I touched it to my tapper, and it absorbed my information. Then I tried to coax it into flying off—but it just sat there, grounded. Maybe it was programmed to watch me die.
Shrugging, I went back to my crude knife-work.
It took a long time to dig my way from the crown down into the meat of the plant. Once I’d cut a hole into the top, I let myself fall into the slippery, lumpy guts inside. There, I kept on hacking and slashing.
Stringy ganglia slapped and splashed. The plant wailed and complained in my thoughts—but I never stopped cutting at it. Not until long after it had fallen quiet.
Even then, I wanted to keep chopping it up just to be sure, but my arms wouldn’t obey me anymore.
So I laid on my back and relaxed.
I was going numb, becoming paralyzed. It felt like my body had swollen up and become feathery light.
Staring up at the jagged hole I’d cut in the roof, I saw the gray skies of Storm World beyond. I thought to myself that the inside of the brain-plant looked kind of like the innards of a pumpkin—but the walls were green, instead of orange.
I heard as much as saw the little drone that had sat with me, waiting patiently for me to die. It rose up, buzzing and whining like an insect. Spiraling higher and higher, I saw it leave the hole in the roof.
Mumbling, I wished it well.
After that hazy thought, I died.
-74-
Coming back to life is always something of a trial. Today was no exception—in fact, I thought it might have been a worse experience than the norm.
“Get him up. Get this lout off the table!”
Armel… That was Armel’s voice. I’d know that Frenchie accent anywhere.
“He’s not ready yet. You pushed the revive, and now his nervous system isn’t a hundred percent.”
A female—a bio, I supposed. I didn’t like what she was saying. They’d “pushed” the revive? What the hell did that mean?
My first action was to try to move my arms. That’s my usual opening move—but they didn’t move. Not even a smidgen.
“You, orderly,” Armel said. “Stand him up. I’ve waited long enough.”
Hands gripped me under the armpits. I felt my head loll back. I was all floppy and loose—my muscles were like rubber.
“He looks like a ragdoll,” Armel complained. “I thought you said he was fully grown.”
“He has full height, full weight, all his parts are formed,” the bio explained patiently. “But his nervous system hasn’t quite knitted up yet. He has paresthesia—like when you sleep on your arm and it goes to sleep. Except in this case, his entire body is in that state.”
“Then he’s useless!” Armel complained. “Why even accelerate the process if you end up with a cripple?”
“He’s not a cripple. He will—well, he should recover.”
“How long?”
“Come back in five minutes. We’ll test him again then.”
Armel made a snorting sound of disgust. “We might as well put him into that lawnmower thing over there and start again.”
“That’s your choice, sir.”
I heard footsteps pacing around me. Boots. Armel always wore boots with sharp heels. I figured they gave him a few extra centimeters in height.
“Fine!” he said at last. “Five minutes. I will return. If he’s not moving, we’re going to recycle him.”
Now, I’m not a squeamish man, but no one would be happy hearing a superior officer openly discussing your violent demise. What made the situation worse was my relative helplessness.
Right about then, however, I began experiencing a new discomfort. My fingers were burning, tingling like someone jabbing about fifty pins into my hand at random spots.
Experimentally, I flexed my fingers. That made them burn even more. But I kept it up.
My lips curled then, and my head bobbed. I couldn’t open my eyes yet, I didn’t even want to, but that could wait. I worked my hands, enduring the pins-and-needles pain of revitalization.
“That’s it…” the bio said, lingering near me.
I felt her light touch on my forehead. It was a kindness, but it hurt. She might as well have been petting me with a hot frying pan.
The five minutes passed, but Armel might have become distracted. He hadn’t yet returned. By now, I was able to roll onto my side. Weakly, I propped myself up. Putting my head against a pillow, I breathed steadily, and I tried to speak.
“What’s your name?” I asked the bio.
“Sarah,” she said softly.
That made my thoughts wrinkle up, just a little. Most people would have given me a last name, not a first name.
But then, I had it.
This was my Sarah. She’d been a regular in my unit for years ago, but she’d recently moved up to specialist and become a bio.
“I thought that was you,” I slurred out the lie. “I’d know your sweet voice even with these defective ears.”
“You can’t hear properly?” she asked in concern.
Again, that soft hand touched me. My bare shoulders this time. At least it didn’t burn anymore to be touched.
“It’s coming back,” I said. “It’s all coming back. Don’t worry. You did a fine job.”
“I didn’t want to push the revive,” she whispered. “I’m sorry McGill. Armel ordered me to do it.”
“How’d the battle go?” I asked.
“What?”
“The battle, girl! When I died, we were fighting Wur on the walls.”
“Oh… well, we mostly lost.”
Groaning with the effort, I turned around and sat up. I forced an eye open.
There was Sarah. She looked a little blurry, as if she were underwater or something, but I knew her face well enough.
She had narrow shoulders and wide hips. Her blonde hair was cut so it encircled her sweet, small-featured face. She’d always looked like an elf to me, and I’d always liked her.
Forcing a smile, I felt half my lips draw up on the right side. The other side was still kind of numb.
About then I heard some high-heeled boots snapping on the deck.
“Ah!” Armel called out. “So, you are awake at last! I hope you are feeling fit, McGill!”
“Never better, sir.”
“Excellent. We can begin the process immediately then.”
“Uh…” I said, tearing my eyes away from Sarah and looking at Armel at last.
He seemed bitter but happy. That had to be a bad combo.
“The Mogwa Governor has passed judgment,” he said. “He has summoned one human and one representative from Rigel to his ship.”
“Um… maybe you should go, sir,” I suggested. “I’m not sure that—”
“Generous to the last!” Armel announced, slapping me hard on the back. This resulted in a new blaze of fire from my overstimulated nerves. “But alas, Sateekas has specifically requested you.”
“Oh… Okay then. Just let me get dressed…”
Armel waited impatiently while I sprayed off some goop in the shower and forced a uniform over my wet skin. The cloth felt like sandpaper, but I tried not to show it.
“Come on, come on. We’re hoping that if he perms you he’ll spare Earth. It’s a slim hope, but there you have it.”
“Always keeping others in mind, aren’t you sir?”
He twisted up his lips in disgust.
I stretched and approached Sarah. With a sudden move, I dipped my face down and kissed her.
“What’s this?” Armel demanded. “Have you been romancing your physician in such a short time? One would think you’re part goat, McGill.”
“Goats are very intelligent animals. Did you know that, Tribune?”
“No… I didn’t.”
Sarah smiled at me, and I knew my play had been a good one.
“If you come back,” she said, “I’ll want an explanation.”
“You’ve got it. Sandwiches
, wine, and a detailed accounting.”
She smiled again, looking a little shy.
Armel rolled his eyes and marched out, heels clacking. He motioned for me to follow with a crooked finger. I did so, and we were soon walking up muddy steps into daylight.
“Uh…” I said, looking around in shock. “I thought we were in Blue Bunker.”
“This charming mess is Blue Bunker—what’s left of it. The fort has been leveled.”
Coming out into the gray daylight, I saw it was true. The puff-crete walls were shattered all around us. Only a few towers stood. Even the bunkers were flattened and torn apart.
Bodies were everywhere, lying in the muck. Giants, various Wur, humans, slavers… Now and then, I spotted a dead Rigellian. They’d all fought to the last.
“Hmm…” I said. “Seems like we were overrun. But did we win, sir?”
“No,” he said. “The Wur went mad at the end, after they breached the walls. They turned on their new allies. The pod-walkers in particular raged all over the camp. They killed us and the aliens from Rigel indiscriminately.”
“Oh…” I said, thinking of when I’d dug into the brain of the last Nexus plant.
The pod-walkers, the spiders, the acid-creatures—all the various forms were attached to that single Nexus. By carving it up, I’d essentially driven the entire Wur army insane. I’d seen that effect before back on Death World—but I’d kind of forgotten about it.
“I wonder… what could have pissed them off so badly?” I asked, shaking my head as if I was bewildered. “It’s a sheer mystery. We’ll probably never solve it.”
Armel eyed me coldly. “Get aboard the ship.”
The same patrol boat I’d flown in days ago was sitting on a mound of wet debris. It must have withdrawn into space when the battle had started, or it surely would have been destroyed with the rest of the place.
Roaring up into orbit, I wondered why Sateekas had asked to see me in particular. Being a naturally upbeat person, I dared to hope he’d come to value me as a friend and planned to toast my victory.
But a meaner, more negative version of James McGill, one that was buried deep inside my mind—that pessimist told me I was wrong.
Deciding I’d find out the truth soon enough, I sat back and let the autopilot do its work. Humming an old tune from Georgia Sector’s ancient past, I gazed out the window and watched the Mogwa cruiser grow steadily in size.
Don’t get me wrong. I did hope I’d come back from this little jaunt alive. After all, a good date was almost certainly riding on the results of this journey.
-75-
After following arrows around onboard the Imperial cruiser, I found Sateekas again. He was spanking Nairbs and seemed to be in his normal, irritable mood.
“Your lordship!” I called out. “I got your message and raced right up here. I’ve even got a bottle of champagne to celebrate!”
I’d found a bottle of creamer in the patrol boat galley and dumped out the contents, replacing it with water and some coffee grounds. I was pretty sure, after all, that Sateekas wouldn’t care about drinking champagne with me—but just in case he did, I had a prop to wave around enthusiastically.
“You are an odd beast,” Sateekas said. “Can you truly be so generous in nature that you would celebrate an enemy’s victory?”
“Uh… well… no sir. Not exactly. I kind of figured that we’d celebrate Earth’s victory. I mean… we did win down there. We killed the Wur.”
Sateekas flapped some of his disgusting limbs at me. “Ah, that. I see the source of the confusion. It’s almost endearing. You possess a true warrior-spirit.”
“Um… what’s endearing, your overlordship?”
“The fact you would believe the goal of the contest was the sole criteria upon which you were being judged. Yes, McGill-creature, I did say the goal was to eradicate the Wur. However, the contest took on a life of its own.”
“Uh…” I said, letting my fake champagne sag down to my side. “How’s that, exactly, sir?”
“Earth and Rigel engaged directly in battle. Your two technologically advanced species came into direct conflict. The Wur played a role, but it wasn’t pivotal. Once the battle began, I was fully engaged. It was quite entertaining.”
As he spoke, he spun up a recorded vid. I could see rampaging pod-walkers, marching squads of Rigellian troops, and desperate Earth forces battling them all.
“You see here,” Sateekas said, “where these bulky humans are being torn apart?”
A group of near-human blood-worlders had indeed been encircled. The pod-walkers were snatching them from the ground and ripping off limbs like children plucking petals from a daisy.
“Uh… I see it, sir.”
“This is a seminal moment. The Rigellian troops, at this point, had clearly won. They were superior in every way, abusing your last soldiers with impunity.”
“Yeah, but keep watching! We’re about to kill their brain-plant and set them all free. The Wur turn on Rigel’s army, and—”
“Yes, yes, yes… but that’s not the point. They were on the offensive, which is the harder position to take in any conflict. You managed to pull a stunt on them, but you’d already lost.”
“But… we won in the end!”
“No,” he said. “You did not win the real prize, which is of course my favor. I’ve rated both sides carefully, measuring prowess in battle—not just trickery and luck. As a professional, you must be able to see my point. When you battled face-to-face, those enemy troops outperformed your legion.”
“I witnessed no such thing, sir!” I lied. “Victory is victory. You can’t take that away just because one side operated with more style.”
Sateekas narrowed his eye-groups and waved an appendage at me. “I certainly can take it away, and I’ve done so. Don’t presume to lecture me, human. I’m fond of you, as any Mogwa might favor a pet that does amusing tricks—but I’m the governor of this province. I’m free to choose any species I want to be my local enforcers.”
Just about then, I noted some Nairbs shuffling around in the back of the chamber. A small figure walked in their midst.
“Hey now,” I said. “You should watch your back, sir. That runty alien is a fiend! A bloodthirsty mass-murderer!”
My long arm extended, and a long finger pointed from the end of it.
The object of my accusations strolled closer without concern. It was none other than my old wrestling-buddy, Squanto.
“I am here, beings,” Squanto announced. “Make your entreaties as I am short on both time and patience.”
Sateekas stomped a few of his hand-feet in irritation. “An impudent attitude,” he said. “You should not speak to your new master in this insolent fashion.”
Squanto looked up at him in surprise. His chain of snake-bones clattered and writhed as he spoke.
“No alien is my master. Nor will they ever be.”
“You’re incorrect,” Sateekas said. “Know that the Empire has smiled upon Rigel. This is the most fortunate hour of your benighted existence. You have been selected to replace Earth as our local enforcers.”
The bear rotated his head to one side. I interpreted this as a quizzical gesture.
“We came to this star system to gain its submission to Rigel. We are not interested in submitting to the toothless, geriatric Empire.”
Sateekas reacted as if stung. “What! You impudent monster! Can it be you’re as much an ingrate as McGill has claimed? I can hardly credit it.
As this discussion grew heated, I began to grin. I can’t help it, when two rattlesnakes square-off, I always like to watch.
In a precautionary manner, I circled the room quietly with the Nairbs. When I was directly behind Squanto, I approached until I stood only two paces away from him—just in case.
“I can understand your disappointment,” Squanto said. “The Earthlings are substandard either as opponents or allies. Rigel would serve better—but, unfortunately, we’re simply not interested.”
“Because the Empire is a fossil. Once all-powerful, you have split up into factions that engage in fruitless civil wars. You offer us the task of patrolling this remote border—but we’d rather remain independent and carve out our own path.”
It was a noble statement in my opinion. In a way, I admired the pluck of a species like these Rigellians. They were tough, and they had gonads to spare. Earth, by comparison, usually played it safe.
While I was impressed, Sateekas definitely wasn’t feeling the same way. He puffed himself up like a cobra and loomed over Squanto.
“In that case, vermin, the offer is rescinded. McGill-creature! Execute this beast!”
“Uh…” I said. “Is Earth still your local enforcer?”
“Absolutely! Obey me!”
Squanto, to his credit, didn’t just wait for it. He launched himself at Sateekas and managed to bite one of those floppy limbs before I could catch hold of him.
Having foreseen this possible outcome, I’d procured a heavy wrench from a storage cabinet earlier. The ship’s AI had made sure I was unarmed—but you didn’t always need a gun to be effective.
I brained the ferocious little alien a couple of times. That quieted him down.
When he was on his back, panting and mewing in pain, I bent over him.
“Listen up, Squanto,” I whispered. “We had a deal about Floramel. You promise to give her back, and I’ll get you out of this alive.”
Squanto opened one eye that was crusty with blood. “Why would I trust you, prince of lies?”
“Because it beats being smashed to death with this wrench, and having your transport ships blasted out of space by this cruiser.”
I hefted the tool menacingly.
Squanto thought that over for a few seconds. “I agree,” he said finally.
Straightening up, I faced Sateekas.
“Grand Admiral,” I said, “I know this alien has pissed you off—and rightfully so, sir. But… you did promise him safe passage to and from his ship. We had this meeting under a flag of truce.”
“Are you refusing to obey me, McGill?” Sateekas demanded.
“Never sir! Not in sixty lifetimes would I dream of it! But… you did make a deal. As your local enforcers, you’ll be making our jobs a lot harder if we can’t parlay with Rigel in the future.”
