“But if you go too far and kill us, you’ll have to answer to the emperor.” It was a weak ploy, but Mirri was about to crawl out of her skin.
“Bah! That old fool? He’s probably forgotten about you, me, and the stupid project already. You will have cost me my chance to win his favor and become a perpetual parasite in his court. But life is cruel, then one dies. I’ll continue with my own research, and that will have to be enough to keep me going. I’ve decided to start breeding you two also. I don’t want to run out of Deft. Your offspring will pay perpetually for your failed attempt. Yes, see, more good news. You and the man-boy will start having witnessed sex as soon as I’m mobile enough to supervise it. Won’t that be grand? You’ll have lustful fun, and I’ll have more souls to torture. Life is good.”
Malraff had overdone it. Her head dropped back against the headboard with a thud, and she gasped for air. An alarm on a medical monitor wailed to life, and Doctor Pastersal rushed in.
“Guard,” he called over his shoulder, “take the alien back to her cell.”
NINETEEN
I listened hard for the next couple days but heard neigh a word about my escapade in the laundry. Apparently Juyrot kept his trap shut and Harhoff didn’t report the event up the food chain. That my tormenter didn’t want to die miserably was understandable. It stuck in the back of my mind what Harhoff’s motivation was. He didn’t owe me any favors, and he clearly didn’t like Juyrot. Why would a solid, by-the-book Adamant of moderately high rank cover up something that could come back to bite him on the tail? I sure couldn’t think of a reason. I had to leave it in the maybe-I’d-find-out-someday category.
That day turned out to be five days after the fight. Fuffefer summoned me to his office, but on this occasion, he asked me to sit. That meant I wasn’t in trouble.
“I’d like to ask a favor of you, Josbelub Pontared.”
“Your favors are my commands,” I shot back.
He sort of rolled his eyes. Lots of species rolled their eyes at me. “I’ll take that as a yes. A friend of mine has asked if he can borrow your services for a few days. He’s a neat-nick like me but has injured one of his paws and can’t do all that it takes to maintain an orderly living space. Would that be all right with you? Now, you’re not actually a Descore and couldn’t know the etiquette here. You are within your rights to refuse, and no one will be angry. This is based on long tradition.”
“No, if you want me to help a friend in need, consider it done. When do I start?”
“That’s the spirit. You’ll start immediately.” He handed me a slip of paper. “These are the directions to his quarters. He’ll fill you in on the details when you arrive. I’ll expect you back first thing in the morning three days hence. Any questions?”
“Well, since you ask. He’s not an alien hater, is he?”
I think he was thinking of the words to scold me, but then his shoulders relaxed. “No. To the best of my knowledge, he’s fair minded.”
“That’s good enough for me.”
I memorized the route and headed to my new gig. Hey, it really didn’t matter which enemy’s room I dusted. The trip was a short one. I knocked on the door and stepped back. Guess who answered the door? I would never have guessed it, that was for damned sure. It was Group Captain Harhoff, the arbiter of my fight in the laundry. What were the odds of him being the one who just happened to need help because of an injured paw? Slim to none by my calculations. I had to be on my toes.
“Ah, Josbelub, thank you for accepting my offer. Please, come in,” he said as he stood aside and swept his free arm to show me in.
“Not a problem. Fuffefer’s a good boss. If he wants that I should help you, I’m all in.”
“Excellent. Please, have a seat over there.” Once I was down he said, “I’m a person of modest needs. I only ask that you keep the rooms clean. I will continue to use the laundry service and take my meals in the officer’s mess, so you needn’t worry about those tasks.”
“Sounds like a working vacation to me.”
“Yes, I suppose it will be.”
He was being awful cheery and cordial. Very non-Adamant, in my experience.
“The lay out of my quarters and Group-Single Fuffefer’s are identical. All the supplies you might require will be in the same locations. Do you have any questions?”
“May I use your name to order some food for myself to be delivered here?”
“Of course. Whatever you fancy. Here, let me show you to your sleeping area and get you set up with some passcodes for the computers.”
Over the next two days, I barely caught sight of Harhoff. He sure wasn’t around enough to make any kind of mess. Pretty soon, I was just shining the dust that was still there from the day before. But I made a show of doing the old spit and polish. Before leaving to work the morning of my last day there, he shocked the hell out of me. He asked if I wouldn’t mind preparing a meal for the two of us that evening to celebrate my outstanding service. What, was this a date? Did I need to bring condoms? I sure as hell hoped not.
By then, I knew what the canovir’s palates were like, so I whipped up a diner he’d enjoy. Why not? He’d been nice, if somewhat invisible to me. Just because I wished his entire species a violent death didn’t mean I couldn’t be the better man. So, I made braised liver—rare—boiled veggies—very not rare—and what looked to be rice. The entire apartment wreaked of liver. It reminded me of Sunday dinners at the grandparents, eons ago back on Earth, minus the onions.
Even before he stepped in, Harhoff took a deep whiff and proclaimed, “It smells wonderful. Just like home.” He, however, meant it in a positive manner, unlike me.
“Well come on over and let’s chow down.”
He set what he was carrying down and went to a cupboard in the kitchen. He pulled out a bottle that, based on its markings, had to be something high proof. All right already.
He clinked two glasses down and pulled the stopper out of the bottle with his teeth.
“I hope you can drink musto. Its fermented and distilled fungil berries.”
“Shouldn’t be a problem, but we’ll only know for sure after half a bottle or so.”
“To the expansion of scientific knowledge.” He raised his glass.
I did the same. “To science.”
We belted back the firewater. Nice! After that, we served ourselves from the plates on the table between us. I may have been the hired help, but I wasn’t inclined to serve him, and he didn’t seem to care.
“Delicious,” he said as he chewed the revolting, slimy liver. “Not overcooked. Perfect.”
I put some in my mouth and turned my senses of taste and smell off. “Mmm. Just like Mom used to make.”
“Really,” he asked with genuine interest.
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“Ah, not a fan of liver?”
“Not so much.”
“Well thank you for indulging me then.”
“No problem. It was fun spending your money. This stuff’s choice grade.”
“I’m a bachelor. What’s money for if not to spend it on the occasional indulgence?”
I rested my chin on the back of my hand. “Forgive me for saying it, but that doesn’t sound very Adamant-like.”
He thought a moment. “I guess it’s not. We’re not all identical, you know?”
“I hadn’t noticed.” I figured I’d push him a little to see what his game was. We’d also almost polished off the bottle of booze, so maybe his tongue was loosening up.
“Very funny. No, just as the five races differ, so do those amongst each race. Surely, it’s the same where you come from. Ah, where was that?”
“Ungalaym.” I felt that was a test.
“Yes, that’s where Group-Single Fuffefer was stationed last, wasn’t it?”
“Ah, I don’t want trouble. If you want to know his service record, you’d better ask him.” I toasted my last shot and threw it back.
“Yes, of course. Forgive me.”
&
nbsp; “Already forgotten. Seriously,” I held up the glass. “Already gone.”
“In that case, let me see if I have another bottle.”
I started to explain what I meant, when it hit me. Why bother? The more booze the better.
He came back, displaying a little unsteadiness of gait. Note to self, it was more exaggerated than his stride leaving the room. He plopped into his chair and popped the top. He poured us both a full glass and rested back in his chair.
“What did you do back home?”
“I was a farmer. Most of my people are. It’s good honest work.”
He shuddered. “If you say so. It sounds like a prison sentence to me. No, I prefer the military life.” He squinted at me. “You carry yourself like you are a military man too. Am I right?”
I patted my chest. “Me? No way. I’m afraid of spiders and hate killing my own animals for food. No, I’m a certified pacifist.”
“Pacifist you say? I’ll have to look that word up later.” He chuckled softly. “You seemed to be handling Juyrot pretty handily.”
“That little pup? If we were fighting, he wouldn’t have been much of a match for anyone my size,” I guffawed.
“I’ve been in combat with the fellow. He’s more lethal than you might think. I’ve seen him kill enemies your size and bigger without difficulty. It would take an opponent of remarkable skill to best him. Remarkable.”
“You said that twice.”
“Because it would be so remarkable.”
“I think you’ve had enough musto.”
“Make a joke about it if you must, but what I say is true. In fact, I’d watch my back closely if I were you.” He pointed a pinky claw at me.
“Like you told him, he doesn’t want any part of Fuffefer. I’m not worried.”
He stared at his glass a bit too long. “You hardly used the computer while you were here. Was there a problem with it?”
“No.” I passed a finger over the then consumed feast. “Witness the excess of overpriced foodstuff purchased.” Odd question. “There’s not much else I might use the Adamant’s computer system for. Your holovision is paralyzingly dull to me.”
He snorted. “You and me both. Trash on a good day.”
We raised our glasses to that.
“Well,” I said, “it’s getting late, and these dishes aren’t going to do themselves.” I began to stand.
“No, wait, Josbelub. I’ll get them tomorrow. Sit.”
“Your paw’s all better?” I asked a bit too snarky.
“It’s fine now, thanks to you,” he said without conviction. “Do you know why I was in the laundry that night when I broke up your fight?”
Uh oh, this could be major trouble. “Ah, no. Honestly, I don’t.”
“I was on duty. I’m stationed on the bridge, you know. I’m responsible for computer and AI security.”
“I did not know that.” Crap. “Are you sure you should be discussing this with me?”
“No,” he said with a very serious look on his face. “In fact, I’m certain I shouldn’t be. But I noticed some odd trafficking across the entire system that night.”
“What I know about computers you could fit in Juyrot’s left nostril after it swelled up.”
That brought a chuckle.
“If you say so. I was able to trace the source of the input to the laundry area.”
“How odd. I sure didn’t see anything suspicious, not that I’d know what that was in the first place.”
“I came down to investigate. Do you know what I saw?”
“No, but I’m thinking you’re about to tell me.”
“I saw the two of you brawling. That was a problem.”
“How so. You told me you’re not a Juyrot fan.”
“No. If there was only one person there, that would be my likely suspect.”
“But there were two, and they clearly weren’t functioning as an effective espionage team.”
“Clearly not.”
“So, why not arrest us both, torture us for the information, or what the heck, just toss us both out the nearest external hatch?”
“Why not, indeed?”
I sipped some musto and stared at him. Wait. “If you were simply trying to protect the ship’s systems, that is precisely what you’d have done. And you wouldn’t have wandered into a computer break-in alone. You’d have half the soldiers on duty in front of you. You wanted to know who was being naughty because there exist some reasons to be naughty that you’d be inclined to favor. If, for example, you were not as fully committed to the emperor’s long-term plans, you might kind of wonder if there was another like-minded soul in the laundry area.”
I tapped my forehead with the back of a finger. “But there’s a gap in that line of reasoning.”
“Do tell.”
“There were only two possible candidates, Juyrot and me. If he was as loyal as he is rock-stupid, you couldn’t mention the hacking. So, you can’t trust him unless he was the only one down there and the culprit. He’d sound an alarm otherwise.”
“Where’s the gap you spoke of?”
“If he’s loyal, he wouldn’t be breaking into the computer. But that would mean it had to have been me. If you knew that, you’d be safe to just up and ask me.”
“Very good. But there exists a possibility you can’t know about. There are factions amongst the Adamant. Some are more warlike and aggressive than the group that currently holds power. Some others favor alternate leadership, so to speak.”
I raised my hand. “So Juyrot could have been working for a terrorist cell. That would make him a candidate for the sabotage too. It would make him a more dangerous candidate. Your run-of-the-mill alien spy might be a nuisance, but a subversive agent would have to be silenced fast.”
“So, a cautious individual would spend a few days vetting the possible subversive while …”
“At the same time observing the possible alien spy,” I snapped, finishing his thought. “And I’m guessing you came to the decision that dumb-as-a-flagpole Juyrot didn’t do anything to suggest he was bright enough to be a covert operative.”
“He most certainly did not. There was nothing in his files to support such capabilities either.”
“Hence, you concluded I was the hacker, which of course I’m not. If you came to that incorrect opinion, and you were a big old fan of Bestiormax you’d have put a plasma bolt in the back of my head by now. In fact, if you were a player in any faction opposing the boss, you’d have done the same thing. That leaves only one real possibility. You’re against all the war-loving Adamant. You are, in fact, a pacifist and will not need to look the word up.”
He clapped his paws and smiled broadly. “Very good reasoning for a farmer.”
“Since I’m a simple country boy, I’m guessing here, but let me ask you something. If you were a pacifist subversive and anyone in any other faction knew it, you’d be so dead it would be ugly, right?”
He nodded gently.
“So, isn’t telling me kind of putting your life in my hands? Which, I might add, would be ludicrously suicidal, since I’d be crazy not to tell my master, if he was, in fact, my master?”
“Yes, Jon Ryan, that would be the case.”
I leaned my chair back onto two legs and smiled like the cat that ate all the canaries. “I love it when I’m right.”
TWENTY
“Seriously, Slapgren, she was insane. I’m really scared.” Mirraya was trembling.
“Relax,” he responded confidently. “She hated our guts before. How can that get worse? You know I’m right.”
“This is different. She was mean, heartless, and cruel before. Now she’s lost her mind. She’s determined to make all of us suffer more than anyone has suffered before. I know she means it.”
“Hang on a sec. Who’s all of us. I just count two.” He pointed to her. “One.” He pointed to himself. “Two.”
Mirri cracked half a smile. “There’s another part I haven’t told you about yet. Um, she
is going to supervise a new program when she’s better.”
“What kind of program. I’m not liking the sound of it.”
“Well, ya just might. She’s going to force breed us.”
“Force feed us. Whatever for? I eat all the time as it is.”
“No. Force breed us. You know, have us make babies. And then she’ll torture them too.”
“Ah, the first part doesn’t sound all that bad. The second part, wow. It really sucks.”
“The first part really sucks too. You’re still a child. And I refuse to be mated like a prize rostalop.”
“Is she planning on making this an optional activity?”
“Hardly,” she said with disgust.
“Then your objection or mine don’t matter much.”
“Not if we escape or kill her or Uncle Jon finally gets here.”
“Unlikely, less likely, and least likely.”
“I have to stay positive.”
“And about you calling me a child. I’d really appreciate it if you stopped that. I’m a young adult.”
“Slappy, we’re not talking what grade you are in school but whether your metabolically an adult.”
“I am too.”
She leaned against a bare wall. “So, are you going to tell me you’re sexually mature? I don’t recall hearing of Mrs. Slapgren or Slapgrenettes.”
“I don’t have kids, but I know I’m ready.” He scoffed the floor with his heel. “I’ve been sort of practicing a little, you know, and it works.”
“Can my day get any worse? A madwoman threatens me with endless torture, and now I have to deal with the image of you playing with yourself. Where’s a stick to gouge out my eyes?”
“Hey, it not that unusual. And I wouldn’t call it playing with myself. I’m practicing for adulthood.”
“When you’re an adult, you don’t need to jerk yourself off. You’ll have a mate who’s stuck with that unenviable task.” She flicked a finger against his forehead. “Disgusting child.” She pointed at him intently, “And if I ever catch you doing it, so help me I’ll make you regret it, hopefully involving permanent psychological scars.”
Firestorm: Galaxy On Fire, Book 3 Page 9
