Guard at the Gates of Hell (Gladius Book 1)

by George Olney

  Camille nodded. Ettranty was sometimes too sharp for comfort, but Camille didn't know if she was ready for this yet. Camille wasn't even sure what "this" was. "As to what or why your father didn't want you to know about her, I can't say, Corporal. Maybe one day we'll know. What counts now is you're a Gladius. You have another family and they all wear this uniform."

  Shana the reporter recognized an "official explanation" when she heard one. On the other hand, the Gladius in her trusted the Colonel to fill her in when the time was right. Lieutenant Colonel Paten appeared as uneasy as she was. Patience, girl, she decided. Whatever was bothering the Colonel was going to come out. If not, she was perfectly capable of digging on her own once the legion was out in the open and Cauldwell was free.

  "The reason I asked is because I've also been reviewing your medical records," Camille said, leaning over the desk and clasping her hands. "You have an unusual genome. From what we've been able to sample from the Cauldwell population, it doesn't match the planetary standard and I was curious."

  She leaned back in her chair and looked at Shana a moment longer. "I assumed that was from your mother, but there's no way for us to tell at this time. Right now that's an intellectual puzzle, Corporal. Once we get this political mess cleared up on Cauldwell, though, I'll do everything I can to help you solve it. You have a right to know. Will that suit you?"

  Shana nodded, still wondering what Pandora's Box had just opened. "Aye. I appreciate that, Colonel, but now I'm starting to think about my mother. I know I'm a local recruit, but I've got this urge to know about my family, just like any other Gladius."

  Camille sat up, her usual businesslike attitude returning. "Agreed. As I said, I'll do what I can to help you. Meanwhile, you've got two days off, then OCS. I suggest you use your off time wisely then be ready for the shock when you report."

  She smiled wryly. "I certainly remember that shock from my own OCS days. Dismissed, Corporal."

  "Aye." Shana popped to attention, spun in an about face, then marched out. As she left the office, she was thinking hard. Her lack of curiosity about her mother wasn't natural. What in the hell had her father done to her? And what in the hell was the real story? Shana felt confident the Corps would help her find out. Best forget the problem for now. She had two days off then OCS in front of her. That was enough to worry about. But she couldn't stop thinking.

  Inside the office, Camille was looking over Shana's medical records again. How in the hell had the doctors missed this one when Ettranty was given her recruit treatments? It didn't matter, she decided. The fact was they had. She wasn't happy about not giving a fellow Gladius the full truth, but she wasn't exactly sure what the full truth was. Whatever it was, it was now her responsibility to get to the bottom of it. She'd told Ettranty she was going to do it and that was a pledge graven in stone within the Corps.

  She wasn't a geneticist, but she'd started in Medical Support and she could still read records with the best of them. No wonder Ettranty was seen as a desirable recruit. She had almost a full Gladius genome! There were unusual differences, but the statistical similarities were too high to be simple chance. Time to talk to the medics. There was something very strange here.

  In the hall outside the Colonel's office, Karyn was waiting for Shana, a small haversack with towels, accessories, and underwear for them both hanging from her shoulder. Karyn was in full uniform, although, like Shana, she was wearing her swimsuit underneath. Barring a disaster in the Colonel's office - not really expected - both women planned on hitting the pool after this detour was over. Karyn started to tease her roommate about woolgathering then noticed Shana's expression. "Hey, sis," she asked, "what happened? She's not moving you out to another legion or something, is she?"

  That was the most ghastly fate Karyn could imagine, even though she'd done it herself. Nice crop of boys here, she thought to herself, so there were compensations.

  Absently, Shana shook her head. She was still mulling over the suddenly revealed problem of her mother. And her father. "Um... no. The Colonel asked me a question I couldn't answer and now it's bugging me.

  "Oh, and I report to OCS day after tomorrow."

  As they started to walk off, Karyn gave her a wide eyed look. "Wow! OCS? That's great! That means I'll have to break in a new roommate, but I'm really happy for you, sis."

  Karyn stared ahead for a minute, meditating. "That means I'll finally have a roommate I can swap clothes with. That custom tailoring your skinny frame requires can be a pain, you know?"

  That took Shana out of her mood and she whacked her grinning roommate on her shoulder as they both left the office section of the cavern and headed on out into the main tunnel. The tunnel was over forty measures wide and twenty high, sufficient to move any of the Legion's equipment, and counted as "outdoors". Therefore, both women donned their caps. Shana tilted hers a little forward as befitted a veteran of a major battle. Karyn, whose Virgin Mission had been of the ambush/raid variety, followed the custom of tilting hers to one side slightly to show she was a veteran, but not of the kind of battle Shana had seen. They walked happily down the main tunnel, headed for the pool area.

  Not too far ahead of them, the Legate and the Sergeant Major were standing in an alcove just across from the Legionnaires Club entrance, discussing how to add more tunnel space to the cavern. The discussion was interrupted when the noise inside the Club got even more raucous and a young legionnaire flew through the open doors to land in an untidy heap in the middle of the main tunnel. It sounded like a brawl was in full swing, not an unusual occurrence. The Sergeant Major scowled and started forward, but the Legate held him back with a hand on his arm. "Just wait a minute, Sergeant Major," Legate Athan said with a grin. "The boys need to work off a little steam first. Besides, I see something interesting and I want to watch where it goes."

  What the Legate saw were Shana and Karyn, stopped short and staring at the crumpled trooper at their feet. Shana took two steps forward and stood over the trooper, fists on her hips and looking down, her expression one of military displeasure. The trooper started to gather himself and get up then noticed the female boots and skirt at eye level. Looking up, he saw Shana glaring down at him. "Oh, hi, mate," he said with a sheepish grin.

  "Mate my ass," Shana growled. "It's Corporal to you, trooper."

  Uh-oh.

  "Up!" Shana snapped. "Attention and remain there until I get this sorted out. Understand?"

  Jumping into a rigid position of attention, the young Gladius popped off his answer. "Aye!"

  Squaring her shoulders, Shana marched into the Club with its crashes, bangs, and other sounds of a building riot. The sounds ceased abruptly, shortly after she disappeared inside. Some moments afterward came a loud and aggravated female voice. And shortly thereafter, "One, hup. One, hup."

  Out the open double doors came a double line of young Gladii, Corporal Shana Ettranty on the left in the leadership position counting cadence. "Section, hal-l-l-lt, ho! Left face!"

  Shana glared at the fifteen or so troopers now facing her, uniforms disheveled and most carrying rather than wearing their caps. The glare was supplemented by a few minutes of ass chewing that would have done credit to Drill Sergeant Howard. Finally, "You yard birds will now fall out and reenter the Club. You will then clean it for inspection. Upon being inspected and released by the Club manager, you will report to your quarters and remain there and sober up until mess. AM I UNDERSTOOD?"

  The reply was a shouted chorus. "AYE!"

  "Fall out!"

  The young men tumbled back into the Club to get to work while the pair of women resumed their progress down the tunnel. Unseen in their alcove, the Sergeant Major was beaming with paternal pride. Legate Athan was grinning. "It seems that our former recruit makes a good decurion, Sergeant Major."

  The Sergeant Major nodded judiciously. "Aye. She'll make a good officer too, Legate." The Sergeant Major took note of the way the Legate's look followed Corporal Ettranty as she walked off. Diplomatically, he said no
thing. He simply nodded in satisfaction.

  #####

  Revolutions run on money, reflected Commander Claude Ancel as he studied the figures on his terminal, and they were getting a touch short. Oh, nothing serious, but they could certainly use some more. Perhaps they ought to open another cache. The gold they'd found in this one had gone a long way towards setting up their current operation on Cauldwell. So had the various anonymous numbered accounts in a variety of Cauldwell banks, all of which were accessible from certain terminals found in the cache after Combat Information Technology had very carefully entered the banking computer network and deactivated the tags and alerts placed on those accounts. It took a while to do it, but the money was a big help

  They should have suspected such things existed, Claude reflected. If this was going to be part of an Imperial hideout, the Emperor's staff had to hide enough money to keep things going. That brought up the thought - again - that there ought to be more money in other locations. He needed to talk to Captain Folsom about it. Conditions might just be right for them to open another cache.

  Commander Claude Ancel, once a fighter pilot in the Fleet, then an agent of Imperial Intelligence, then an assault shuttle Electronic Fields Officer in the Valeria's FSG, now deputy head of the Frontier Fleet Intelligence office here supporting the Victrix, got up and headed for his boss's office. Frankly, Claude told himself once again, he preferred being on a fighting craft, not behind a desk. He still wore his flight suit as a duty uniform, his right as flight crew, but he wasn't getting much in the way of space time, and especially not for the last year and a half. The Admiral promised him a return to space after things cleared up here. Maybe.

  Meanwhile, there were compensations. Like that date tonight with Gladius Lieutenant Carlita Yarrow, now a member of the Victrix. An unusual match, if one wanted to be objective and Claude didn't. He had to secretly admit that her transfer from the Valeria to the Victrix was the deciding point in his accepting the Cauldwell job.

  Fleet Captain Folsom's door was open, so Claude strolled in. "Boss," he began once Folsom looked up, "we need to look at opening another cache. By my reckoning, we're at fifty five percent of funds and that's a bit low for comfort. We're on budget, but that's still a bit tight."

  Folsom nodded as he thought for a moment. "Let's see where we are as far as an informal risk assessment goes," he finally said. He waved a finger over one of the sensors on the console next to his desk. "Passant will be here in a minute," he said, looking at the console as a light came on over the sensor. "Time we three had a chat about this."

  It was only a moment before a Gladius major walked into the office, his bearded face showing mild curiosity at the unexpected call. He was the commander of the Victrix tactical intelligence unit and defacto commander of the infiltrators being inserted into the Cauldwell population. "Have a seat, Thomas," Folsom said. "Claude here has brought up a situation with funding we need to look at. We might just have to recommend opening another cache to get at whatever money it might be hiding. What are you getting from Ettranty's office?" They'd managed to bug it almost ten months ago.

  Passant humphed a laugh and nodded. He was proud of that little operation. "Pretty much the same. Ettranty's bothered, but not too bothered anymore. He's certain that the Victrix is gone and he's said so to Femiam several times. We still haven't got a handle on what he's messaged to Central, but there hasn't been anything resembling a search for the last six months or so."

  "What about his Imperial liaison?" Claude asked. They'd pinpointed Narsima Antony Andews a year back. As Recording Secretary for the Guidance Council, he wasn't exactly inconspicuous, but he was a good example of hiding in plain sight.

  Passant shook his head. "Andews is a perfect Imperial functionary. He does whatever the Emperor's staff tells him and nothing else. My guess is that he passes on whatever Ettranty says with no comment either way. Any comment would smack of having an opinion and that could be dangerous, even out here. In any case, none of our sources say he's done anything about pushing for more searches. My take from both Andews and Ettranty suggests that the heat is off and we might be able to get into another cache with a reasonable degree of safety."

  Folsom nodded. "Okay. I'll see if the Legate is willing to take a chance and put some scouts on the other ten caches. Let's see if we can pick a good candidate to open."

  "Aye."

  #####

  In another part of Cauldwell, another conversation was taking place. "Matic, this Popular Movement for Good Government is starting to make me nervous."

  Sitting at his desk, Ettranty shrugged massively at his Assistant Council Secretary and - merely a coincidence - his cousin, who was seated before him. "They're harmless, Clarine. The usual sort of minor organization that emerges from time to time among the proles. We've had them before and they've all come to nothing. All they do is allow the underclass let off a little steam."

  The Narsim Clarine Femiam shook her head. "Maybe you have. I don't know about that, but this one is starting to bother me. They're getting money from somewhere, and they're mounting candidates for the Parliament, even here in Beauregard. If they win enough seats, we might start having problems."

  Ettranty put down his water plass and looked at her. For a moment, his expression was frightening. "We won't have problems. If these candidates of theirs do cause difficulties, there are ways we can deal with them. I regret they are unpleasant ways, but those candidates will regret them more."

  Clarine looked at him, her expression unreadable.

  That night, while cleaning Narsima Ettranty's office, a man slightly past middle age with long gray hair gathered in a ponytail quietly tucked Ettranty's water plass into the utility bag attached to his work cart. He was on the tallish and heavyset side, but obviously the type of person that would still be working for a janitorial service at his time in life.

  For some reason, they wanted the Narsima's DNA back at base.

  #####

  In a desert area of Cauldwell, a scout was on a mission to survey one of the hidden caches. In point of fact, his sled was nowhere near any of them, or anywhere near Victrix base, but that was intentional. Scouts were always given plenty of time when stealth was important, and they were prone to use all of it. Low, slow, indirect, and a damn good suppresser field were more than techniques and tools of the scout's trade, they were survival.

  Low at this particular moment meant down in a desert wadi, creeping along its length until he could rise gently and find another masking feature that would take him in the general direction he wanted to go. As the wadi started a turn to the right, the scout was alerted by his Terrain Penetrating Radar. He stopped his sled for a moment to analyze the reading. The results were very vague, but he was willing to bet there was something manmade in the wall of the wadi. He grounded and took a more powerful TPR from his equipment case, along with a Mass Anomaly Detector. Both pieces of equipment said there was something in the wadi's wall, and now that he was able to get better readings, under the floor of the wadi as well. He spent a full day carefully and stealthily mapping whatever it was, finally concluding he'd found a twelfth cache. Interestingly enough, this one had no electronic signature of any kind. It was also far better hidden than any of the others. He finally got back on his sled and meandered carefully on his way. Several days from his discovery, he dropped a burst emitter then continued on his original mission. Twenty four hours after it was dropped, the emitter transmitted a highly secure microsecond long directional transmission that sounded like cosmic ray static unless a receiver had the proper code. Then it self-destructed leaving almost no trace. The encoded report started wheels rolling in Victrix Base.

  #####

  Captain Folsom pointed to the briefing hologram in Legate Athan's office. "Legate, you know about the other ten caches." A bright dot appeared in some desert area, just like the dot that marked the other ten caches, but larger. "It looks like we've found another one. This one's interesting, because it appears larger and bett
er hidden than the others, and those are damned well hidden."

  Major Passant took up the briefing. "I've ordered a full scout sweep of the find. Given the way scouts do things, I don't expect a better picture for several days. By then, we ought to have the entrance pinpointed. Breaking in may be a different story. Those boys will take plenty of time to clear any booby traps or alarms and I'm in full support of that."

  Folsom nodded to the third man he'd brought to the meeting. "Once we have good information and can get in safely, Commander Ancel will move in with the exploratory team."

  Legate Athan thought for a moment. "Any idea why this one is different?"

  Claude spoke up. "This is a wild assed guess, Legate, but I think it's a good one. All eleven we've identified until now are pretty much the same, and far less hidden than this new one. That tells me this one is different and different because it's important. I'm guessing this new one is the command center for the other eleven."

  "That means it's probably also the Emperor's personal hiding hole," Karl commented. "I'd expect that one to be better hidden than the rest."

  Folsom nodded. "Our thought, too. I'd also expect that it has some surprises."

  Claude was silent, thinking about a subject he'd had on his mind since the twelfth cache was found. He'd always wondered about the crew for all of these ships the Empire had hidden. Were they there?

  #####

  It took a good bit of time, but finally Claude and his team were given the all clear. A young scout approached Claude, his visor up. With the reactive camouflage of his armor, it looked to Claude like a disembodied face moving across the dusty wadi. When he arrived, he came to attention and saluted. Or at least Claude thought so. Formalities out of the way, he explained, "There were a few traps, Commander, but nothing electronic or any kind of powered field. All the triggers, even the door locks, were entirely mechanical. There was nothing that would show up on detectors. We might have tripped something without using TPR and MAD."