by B. V. Larson
“Isn’t there going to be a bit of tough explaining to do when the local police arrive?” I asked.
Claver gave me another of his unpleasant laughs. This time, it was louder and more insulting.
“What are you? Some kind of dumb cracker? We are the police, boy. At the very least, we outrank any local badge they’ll bother to send out here. Why do you think these people wanted to hire us in the first place?”
Looking around and examining the bodies, I lost count at around seventy. There were only a few legionnaires among the dead.
I reflected that when I’d helped arrange for Earth to become the local Enforcers in the Galactic Empire, this wasn’t exactly what I’d had in mind.
-13-
Once the violence had ended and we’d established a perimeter, officials began to arrive. The first responders were Tau in the medical personnel colors of blue with yellow lateral stripes. They ignored us and moved to inspect their dead fellows. Checking each citizen’s DNA with instruments, they began to chatter excitedly amongst themselves.
Old Silver watched with interest. “They’re pretty happy. This bunch of stiffs must be worth thousands to them.”
“I bet. After all, they dumped about a million Galactic credits out of that box.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean that they own the cash. They could be couriers just as we are—but I would bet they aren’t. Couriers wouldn’t rate a revive. They seem to be actual traders. They’ll have the coin to buy their lives back, and it won’t come cheap. They base the price on a percentage of net worth, you know.”
I frowned thoughtfully, and dared a question. “May I ask, sir, what were we transporting for them?”
“Are you stupid, son?” he demanded. “Guns, of course. They’re gun-runners. What else would be in crates of that size that would be worth hauling down to the planet surface?”
Stunned, my eyes widened. “Guns? So this is an illegal operation, and we’re aiding some kind of rebel force on the planet below?”
Claver shook his head. “You make it sound dirty. What do we care? Maybe the guys downstairs are freedom-fighters. Maybe these fat cats up here on Gelt Station are lording it over them, hoarding all the trade-money. I don’t know which side is heroic—I don’t even care. I’m here to collect some pay and get out. I suggest you do the same.”
“But isn’t this against the law, sir?”
“Law? The only laws that matter out here are those imposed by the Galactics. And you know as well as I do they don’t give a rat’s ass about the internal politics of any star system. As long as these Tech Worlders don’t go off and attack another system, the Galactics don’t care. And we shouldn’t either. Other than us, there are only a handful of humans within lightyears. Grow up, McGill.”
“But sir, these are Imperial credit coins. Trading with them is illegal.”
I could tell he was getting angry, but he answered me anyway. “We didn’t do that. They did. We were just the bodyguards. We were paid with legitimate, digital credit. Don’t you forget that.”
I wasn’t sure that the Nairbs would see it that way, but Claver had actually presented compelling points. I knew that the Galactics couldn’t care less what happened here in the Tau Ceti system. Star Systems were free to have all the civil wars, rebellions and even vigorous genocides on their own turf they felt like. The Empire was too huge and spread out for any central governing body to get into fussing with local politics. As long as the Tau kept their trade goods flowing and didn’t build starships to bother other members of the Empire, no one would do anything about their behavior.
Still, I felt as a part of the local enforcement branch of the Empire we owed it to our neighbors to do better than taking bribes and participate in gun-running. Hadn’t we moved on past taking any job we had to just to survive? What was the point of being official representatives of the Empire if we didn’t improve the lot of other species when we came into contact with them?
“I believe reputation matters in the long run,” I told Adjunct Claver. “These Tau are weasels, I’ll give you that, but I have hopes they might come to trust and rely on us in time. Maybe I’m being naïve, but that’s the way I feel about it.”
Claver rewarded me with a long, hard laugh.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me!” he said. “Listen son, the bigger the city, the worse the people behave. This whole planet is nothing but one endless city! Any local will cut your throat just for the privilege of selling their own mama—and they’ll take a bent credit-piece for her, too. The ones that live downstairs on the planet’s surface are even worse.”
What he did next surprised me. It wasn’t the act itself, but the brazen quality of it. He walked over to the cracked open crate, reached in a hand and scooped out a jingling handful of coins. His hand dipped in again—but by that time, I had my gauntlet clamped over his wrist.
“What are you doing, Specialist?” he demanded in a growling tone.
“I’m stopping a blatant attempt at theft, sir.”
He looked at me in disbelief. “What, are you stupid? We can’t leave these coins sitting here in the street. I’m going to fill a sack, and I suggest you do the same. Together, we’ll get this cash to safety.”
The adjunct was getting under my skin. I felt I had to say something that would worry him. “I think I should inform you, Adjunct Claver, that I’ll be reporting this incident to Centurion Graves.”
He snorted. “Let me give you a piece of advice, kid. Your outfit is going to be left here on your own in another week. I didn’t get silver hair by making mistakes. You should learn all you can from an old hand rather than trying to screw with me.”
I made a sweeping gesture. “We’ve lost several men. We’ve been taking bribes and aiding gunrunners. You don’t think that’s worth reporting?”
He struggled with me, but I shook his arm until the coins dropped back into the crate. He growled in frustration.
“You’re the one that wouldn’t take the tip, aren’t you?” he asked me. “You don’t want your cut? Fine. You run off and tattle. In fact, I don’t care if you tell your prissy tribune as well. Germanica will be gone soon enough.”
When I was sure he didn’t have any coins in his pockets, I let him go. He stalked away, got into the skimmer, and said something to the blue turtle. To my surprise, they lifted off and flew away. I watched him leave with my mouth hanging open.
Adjunct Leeson left his position on the steps of the bank and rushed over to me.
“What did you do?” he demanded.
“Uh…I guess we didn’t see eye-to-eye, sir.”
“No shit,” he said. “He just took off? What the hell are we supposed to do with these ‘clients’ and their money?”
“About the money,” I said, “he tried to take that with him.”
Leeson glowered at me. “You pissed him off, didn’t you? Did it occur to you that he’s our guide on this planet? That neither you nor I have a clue how this society operates while he’s been here for several tours over decades?”
“He did say something to that effect,” I admitted.
Once Claver was gone, the attitude of the Tau officials around us changed. The officials who’d been inspecting our dead clients stepped up and said something in their clacking language. Claver had taken the translator with him, but we got the gist of it when he put out a hand, palm up, and made a grabbing motion with it.
“I think he wants to be paid, sir,” I said to Leeson.
Leeson threw his arms wide. “This is a frigging mess. How can we pay him? How do we know how much we owe?”
The official pointed toward the cracked crate of cash on the bank steps.
“No! No way,” Leeson said. “That’s our clients’ money.”
Irritably, the Tau medical people left us there. They took the bodies with them and I watched closely to make sure they left the cash in place. Other officials had removed the bodies of the thugs and civilians. In each case, they tested them to see if they were w
orth reviving. A few were and were carefully loaded aboard flying machines. The rest were piled onto a single cart and dragged away. I had the feeling they would end up in that river of sludge that flowed everywhere beneath the streets. The Tau weren’t much for respecting their dead—unless the dead were rich.
“What about Claver?” I asked Leeson.
Harris answered my question. “He’s forwarded his data-link to some bullshit box that’s full of messages. How’s that for a hint, McGill? He’s too pissed off with you to help out!”
“What about headquarters? When can we expect relief?”
Adjunct Leeson sighed and came close. He put an arm around my shoulders—but it wasn’t a friendly gesture. He spoke directly into my ear.
“Did you see me take a bribe, soldier?” he asked me.
“I’m not sure, sir,” I said. “Some people might see it that way.”
“Do you think that I want to explain all this to Graves—or anyone else?”
“Uh…no, probably not.”
“That’s right. We’re not calling headquarters. We’re handling this by ourselves. You’re a big boy. You shouldn’t be worried about a little bank-robbery attempt.”
Adjunct Leeson gathered up the group, patched up the wounded, and talked over his options with Veteran Harris in a low voice.
The sky darkened as we stood around over the next half-hour. I got the feeling Veteran Harris and Leeson weren’t sure what to do. Maybe they were waiting around to see if our clients did return to claim their cash. After all, Claver had said they would.
As night fell, businesses closed and the streets emptied. Then a new delegation appeared. This time they stood at the top of the steps of the bank. A group of lightly armed bank guards from the pyramid-like building we were squatting in front of came down toward us.
We eyed them warily, kept our fingers on our triggers, but we kept the muzzles of our weapons aimed downward.
It was about this time that I realized Claver had screwed us by dumping us here. He’d guided us across the city, a place he knew well while we were completely out of our element. We’d been left with the credits we’d been guarding, but we had no idea what to do with them. Should we take them back to base? Not easily done, even if the crate hadn’t been damaged. We couldn’t just leave the money out here. What client for any future subcontract would trust us after news of that got out?
We were armed guards, our clients were dead, and the crazy officer who’d made the deal had bugged out. We were well-armed but clueless. It was an uncomfortable situation.
The bank guards came closer one step at a time. They looked at us as if we were feral zoo animals somebody had let out of a cage.
Leeson stepped forward to greet them, reaching toward them as if to shake hands.
At first, they drew back. They chattered amongst themselves for a second then one of them produced a local, Tau System ten-credit piece and slapped it into Leeson’s hand. Leeson looked at it in confusion.
The guards moved forward with more confidence after that. They approached the broken crate and peered inside. Immediately, they became excited and spoke rapidly amongst themselves.
“Sir?” I said to Leeson, who had been watching the guards without comprehension. “I think they’re trying to take the money.”
“Good,” he said. “That’s what we’re supposed to do, isn’t it? Deliver the funds to the bank. If the guards take it up those steps, it’s their problem. Then we can focus on the walk home.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, sir,” I said.
“Uh,” said Harris, stepping into the conversation. “I have to go with McGill on this one, sir. The yellow light of greed is shining in the eyes of those guards. They’ll steal it all the second we turn our backs.”
“If you can’t trust a bank, who can you trust on Tau Ceti?” Leeson demanded.
“This money isn’t in the bank’s hands, and it’s cash,” Harris said in a low voice. “Untraceable old-fashioned Imperial coins. There aren’t too many guys back home I’d trust, either.”
Leeson made a sound of disgust. I could tell he’d been hoping to unload this problem onto someone else. At least he hadn’t spent all his time trying to figure out how to steal it. I had to give him high marks for that. All of us knew we’d never get these coins home to Earth much less get away with spending them on anything.
Leeson approached the bank guards making shooing motions. “Back!” he shouted. “Back into your bank you thieving rentals! That’s not your money.”
The guards chattered at him in irritation and didn’t move. I stepped back a pace and looked around the street. It was surprisingly quiet. During business hours, there had never been less than a thousand people in sight. Now, there were only a dozen or so.
“Here,” said Leeson irritably, producing the ten-credit coin and handing it back to the bank guards.
Reluctantly, they took it and retreated when Harris prodded a few of them with his gun. As the last man walked by, I reached out and clamped onto his wrist with my gauntlet.
“Just can’t let a fight go by, can you McGill?” Harris demanded.
“Check his pocket.”
Harris did, while the man hissed and sputtered. Three of the thousand-credit coins jingled into his hand. Harris tossed them back into the crate and I let the guard go.
Rubbing his hand and flaring his mouth tentacles at me, the guard walked back up the steps and into the bank. I was pretty sure he wasn’t blowing me kisses.
“All right, McGill,” Leeson said. “I’ve requested a private skimmer. It’ll be expensive, but I’ll pay for it. Unfortunately, I’ve just gotten the word it won’t get here until morning. Apparently, flying vehicles are shot down automatically by these banking structures after business hours—too many robbery attempts. Lucky us, we get to spend the night out here.”
“Hmm,” I said thoughtfully. “Where are the local cops, sir?”
“We don’t get support from their kind. First off, you have to pay cops on Tech World to help you out. They charge by the minute. Secondly, they avoid us like the plague. We’re now officials of the Empire. We’re like royalty, but royalty despised and feared by everyone. They don’t want to mess with us, so they’re staying away. We’re on our own for good or bad.”
“Only one choice then,” I said. “We’ve got to get these coins off the street and back to headquarters.”
“This part of the city shuts down after business hours, Specialist. Headquarters is at least a ten-kilometer walk. We’ll wait for the skimmer.”
“Let’s carry the coins toward the foreign quarter,” I suggested, not liking the idea of spending hours out here in the dark. “Rentable transportation is available non-stop in that district. We’ll find a local skimmer with one of those crazy turtles driving and make their day.”
There were a number of complaints, but the idea was finally accepted by everyone. We reached into our armor and pulled out our own shirts tying off the sleeves to make sacks. Each man filled a sack half full, and the coins were jingling over our shoulders as we set off.
Kivi marched at my side. “This has got to be new ground on your list of crazy ideas, James,” she said.
“Would you prefer to stand guard next to that broken crate all night?”
“No,” she admitted. “We do have to keep moving. You understand that Claver will be coming back for these coins, don’t you?”
I glanced at her, startled. “He can’t get past us.”
“Of course not, but a full Unit of Germanica troops could. Or even a thousand more locals.”
I frowned, alarmed by her ideas. “You really think this place is so lawless? That our legions are that corrupt?”
“Think it over,” she said. “Why would Claver come to us and gather us together to do this job? Why not use Germanica troops? I don’t know the average size of a crooked deal on this planet, but this has to be a big one. Claver sought us out and tricked us into escorting money blindly. Now, he�
�s disappeared. I think he likes money. What do you think?”
Turning that one over in my mind, I had to admit Kivi had a good point. She’d been thinking it through, as I should have. I’d been so concerned with the situation at hand I hadn’t been worrying about the bigger picture.
“Maybe…” I said, “he was the one who’d orchestrated this disaster from the start. How did those grav-clamps malfunction? Germanica troops had the crate before we did. And, as I seem to remember, he knew those legion troops by sight when we met them.”
Kivi nodded. “Now your brain is working again. We’re in the middle of something big—and we aren’t in control of the situation.”
I relayed Kivi’s fears to Leeson, but he didn’t seem very receptive. Sometimes, an officer doesn’t want bad news so much they’ll ignore it completely. Leeson was in that mode now.
“Just keep marching!” he shouted at me. “Stop making things complicated. This was your damned plan, McGill, so live with it. If someone shoots at us, we shoot back. If they kill us all, then we’ll get a revive and I’ll kick your ass afterward.”
If you’ve ever wandered a strange alien city at night, you know how unfriendly such places can be. There were drifting masses of people most of whom avoided us. When we posed questions to passersby, a few had the guts to offer us random goods for sale but most scampered away as if we were a gang of potentially violent lepers.
Once we’d left the financial district behind, I’d half-expected a rescue vehicle from headquarters to locate us—but it didn’t.
I was worried as I trudged near the end of the line watching for trouble. My suit was at half-power already, and I didn’t like the idea of running out of juice out here.
Veteran Harris drifted back to me, and I winced at his approach. He hadn’t been too sweet on me since the training incident aboard Minotaur. Come to think of it, he’d never been too happy with anything I’d ever done in service to the legion.
