by B. V. Larson
“State your business—” began the guard, but he broke off. “Oh, it’s you, Varus. What do you want?”
The trooper lowered his gun. I was surprised he’d recognized me. I guess I’d made quite an impression by coming to their rescue while they were pinned down in that module.
“Where’s Centurion Thompson?” I asked.
He pointed with the butt of his snap-rifle. I followed the gesture and saw the bio was indeed nearby, sprawled out in a chair. Her hair was matted with blood, sweat, and that unidentifiable goo that drips from the lower regions of revival machines.
“She worked all night and passed out. They finished getting Leeza’s unit together and started on yours. Your people are operating the machine now.”
I walked past the man and peered into the revival chamber. There was Anne Grant working the machine with two orderlies. I smiled, but she didn’t even look back at me.
Reviving Centurion Thompson had been a good move, I thought to myself. She wasn’t Germanica so after she’d finished a full unit of their troops she’d started on one of ours. Which unit? Why, mine of course. Why not? They already had an active weaponeer who knew the score. That was a good start. The revival machine might have made the same choice if they’d left it up to the AI.
“Anne?” I asked, coming up behind her.
She glanced at me and smiled thinly. She looked tired but determined. I sympathized with her plight. Bio people got the worst of it after the battle was over, and generally, their little slice of hell lasted longer than the battle itself.
“McGill! Can you give me a hand?”
I stepped in even though my stomach was jumping from too much alcohol and too little food. I knew she needed the help, and by now I’d helped to revive enough fresh troops to qualify as an orderly myself.
A few minutes later, I had a chance to check the roster on the machine’s console. “Sargon is up next?”
“Yes. All the bio people in the unit are already back in the game. We’re working on front line people next, then the officers and auxiliaries.”
“Can I make a request?”
She immediately frowned. For some reason, the bio specialists were very finicky about their technology. They didn’t want us to know anything about it, and they certainly didn’t want their decisions second-guessed by an amateur.
Anne heaved a deep breath. “What?”
“Bring Natasha out next.”
Her face darkened, and I realized immediately I’d made a grave error.
“No, no, no,” I said, throwing my hands up in a cautioning gesture. “I think our unit needs her. She was working on a system to turn off these rioters.”
Still frowning, she crossed her arms. She made a small gesture indicating I should continue speaking. I explained the holographic clothing, the tampered boxes, and the rest of it.
“So,” I finished, “that’s what Claver was up to.”
“You’re blaming everything on him? All of this? You’re claiming that he went so far as to blast the crap out of this planet to stop the spread of the infected holo machines?”
“Pretty much, yeah. He was in the midst of a dozen scams, trying to get rich. When Turov ordered Legion Varus to replace Germanica, his timetables were screwed up. He had to rush everything to go home. His schemes came apart. Unfortunately, he just about took the planet down with him.”
Anne stared at me distrustfully. “That’s a longer story than usual,” she said.
“Oh, come on. I didn’t make all this up.”
“Who can back up your story?”
“Natasha can, that’s who.”
Sighing, she tapped at the revival unit’s control screen until Natasha’s name came up. She selected it and engaged the unit.
“I hope you’re happy,” she said.
“I’m miserable. Hey, you’ve got enough people working in here. How about you and I get some breakfast?”
“No,” she said in a quiet voice, not looking at me.
Behind her, the two orderlies exchanged glances. They gave each other a nod. I frowned at them then returned my attention to Anne. I had to wonder why everyone in the unit acted like I was always up to something with the ladies. Sure, I’d had more than my fair share of entanglements, but lots of people did. I guess my rep had come because my affairs tended to be a little more high-profile than the norm.
“Come on,” I said to Anne. “When’s the last time you ate?”
“I haven’t yet. Not since she brought me back,” she said, jabbing a thumb at the lanky, sprawled figure of Centurion Thompson.
“If she wakes up and complains about you leaving your post, just blame me,” I suggested. “She’ll believe any story that points a finger in my direction.”
Chuckling, Anne finally gave in and accompanied me out the door. Behind us, I noticed one of the orderlies slapping money into the other one’s hand. I’d won someone a bet.
We walked together to the wardroom. Fortunately Centurion Leeza had moved on, and we avoided the closed pub in any case. We were after food, not booze.
We ate ravenously, barely talking until we’d stuffed ourselves with real eggs, toast, hash browns and coffee.
“Wow,” I said, leaning back and sighing in satisfaction. “That’s almost enough to turn me into a smuggler like these Germanica snots.”
Anne frowned at me. “They aren’t all like that. Like Claver, I mean.”
“No? I could tell you a story or two—but I won’t. Let’s just say they like to live well while on deployment. We get remanufactured pork and beans while they eat and drink the real stuff.”
“It is good,” she admitted.
She shifted uncomfortably in her chair and didn’t look at me for a moment. I could tell she wanted to say something, so I stayed quiet and sipped my coffee.
When she got done staring at her plate, she finally spoke. “James? Could I ask you something real for once?”
“Sure.”
“Do you ever get serious? About women, I mean?”
“Uh…sure I do. Especially when they’re about to kill me.”
Anne nodded as if confirming a suspicion. She got up and took her tray to the recycler.
“Did I say something wrong?” I called after her.
She gave me a tired smile. “No, not at all. Thanks for the company. I’m going to check in on blue deck then hit a bunk, if you don’t mind.”
We parted ways, and I drank another cup of coffee before heading out. I found a bunk for myself and stretched out on it. This was easy to do as the ship and most of the unit modules were as empty as tombs.
Despite the caffeine in my blood, I could hardly hold my eyes open. My head found a musty pillow, and I was snoring like a baby two minutes later.
* * *
Someone woke me up hours later. This time, it was Natasha. Unlike the other women aboard, she actually seemed to be happy to see me.
“James,” she said. “I heard what you did. I can’t believe it. You’ve given us all a second chance!”
“Yeah?”
“Are you still asleep?”
In truth my mind was fuzzy. Last night’s booze hadn’t completely exited my bloodstream and neither had thoughts of Galina Turov. By the stars, I swear that woman knew things most girls her physical age hadn’t dreamed of yet. I had to remind myself that for all I knew she was actually seventy years old. It was a strange thought.
“Are you listening to me?” Natasha demanded suddenly.
“What? Yeah, sure I am. Keep talking.”
She gave me a quizzical look then let it go. “You’ve given us a chance to recover. It’s a thin one, but we’ve got to take it before they arrive.”
Natasha had my full attention after I’d absorbed that sentence. I didn’t ask who “they” were. There was only one “they” that mattered.
“When do they get here?”
“Technically they’re already in-system, but they’re cruising toward us slowly. I think they’re watching us, and they
must want to see how we’re going to react to the situation.”
She was talking about the Nairbs. She had to be. Physically the Nairbs were green bags of protoplasm that resembled seals, but they acted more like entrenched government accountants.
“Did they bring planet-busters this time?” I asked bitterly. More than a year back, I’d watched them erase a civilization. Sure, the alien squids living in the Zeta Herculis system had been vicious bastards, but what species deserved annihilation for the crime of wanting independence from the Empire? To my mind, they’d been in the right. But no one wanted to hear my opinion.
“I hope not,” she said. “Their ship is certainly big enough for bombs. It’s a stellar cruiser with an unusual configuration.”
“Why come here if not to dispense justice upon a helpless population?” I demanded.
She was thoughtful. “What they love most is holding a trial and declaring guilt or innocence. If they find wrong-doing here—you’re right, they’ll eradicate someone eventually.”
The more I thought about it the more irritated I became. The Nairbs didn’t have to get involved in this. Local affairs were not their problem. That said, I was certain there were plenty of Galactic trade goods and aliens on the station which elevated this to the level of an interstellar crisis. Probably one of the aliens had reported the situation and brought it to the Nairbs attention.
“They gave us the job of local enforcement,” I complained, struggling with my boots. “They should stay out of Frontier 921 and let us handle it. We’ll do what has to be done.”
Natasha shook her head and patted my shoulder. I was standing now, stretching and yawning.
“We can’t control that, James,” she said. “What we can do is affect the situation at hand.”
“How?”
“Gelt Station is sinking, James,” she said. “And Turov is thinking we should let it go all the way down.”
I frowned. “But there are millions of people on that station. Most of them aren’t involved with the rebels. They—”
“Turov has made the call. I went back down to blue deck when I heard that Graves was coming out of the oven. Those bio people hear a lot of things, you know. Turov talked to Graves about one minute after he was off the table. He listened and agreed. What a cold fish that man is.”
She gave a little shudder, and I splashed water in my face at a stainless steel sink. Damn, I needed a shower.
“You’re saying Graves seconded the motion?” I asked. “To let all the Tau civvies die?”
“Not just that. He came off that table so calmly, so matter-of-fact. He was like a man who’s awakened after dozing off on the family sofa while watching vids. He swung his legs off the table, took Turov’s words in, and concurred with her judgment. Then he thanked the bio people and left. It was like there wasn’t any fear in him—no questions about who he was. Nothing.”
I looked at her, and saw she was a little haunted. All bio people looked that way, but techs like Natasha only did when they got close to the reality of the process. I didn’t have time to worry about that kind of thing, however. There were bigger issues at stake.
“Come with me,” I said, “we’ve got to talk some sense into people.”
“Who? Graves?”
“Yeah, him first.”
“Then Turov,” she said. “That’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it?”
I glanced at her. She had an odd look on her face. What did that mean? I pushed the thought from my mind. I wasn’t good at reading women, and this wasn’t the time to learn how to do it.
“Right,” I said. “We’ve got to lay out a plan, tell them about it, and convince them it can be done.”
“What plan?”
“I’ll tell you on the way up there.”
I explained, and Natasha became alarmed. She argued with me all the way up. She finished her objections outside Graves’ quarters, still whispering reasons why it couldn’t work. But in the end, she went along with my plan.
That’s why I liked her. She was always willing to take a chance.
-35-
Graves was neatly dressed, showered, and fed when we called on him. Somehow, he looked a lot better than I did even though he’d been as dead as space itself an hour ago.
Natasha and I exchanged glances, and I forced a smile. Graves didn’t reciprocate.
“Sir?” I asked, getting his full attention.
“What is it, McGill?”
“We need to talk to you, sir.”
He looked at me expressionlessly. After a moment, he gestured for us to sit in collapsible chairs in front of his desk. We did so.
“Talk,” he said.
“Sir, it’s come to our attention that the Nairbs are in the system and that—”
“Stop,” he said, looking up. We had his full attention. His eyes slid from one of us to the other. “McGill, you’re not getting away with this. Not again.”
“Um…getting away with what exactly, sir?”
“Interfering in Galactic business. Shooting Nairbs and the like.”
“I’ve never shot a Nairb, sir. The incident you’re thinking of involved a Galactic.”
He closed his eyes in pain. “I was covering. You weren’t supposed to ever mention that event again, McGill.”
I glanced over at Natasha. Her eyes drifted around the room then they landed on Graves.
“I already knew about the event in question, sir,” she said quietly.
Graves began rubbing his forehead with his fingers. “How is it, McGill, that I can die and return to life without a qualm, but I can’t have a conversation with you that lasts more than thirty seconds without getting a headache?”
“My mama always said I was gifted in that department, sir.”
“She was right. Now, tell me what you’re talking about.”
“Is it true, sir, that the Tau station is sinking? That it will burn up in the upper atmosphere soon?”
“Of course it is. You should know what’s destined to happen. After all, you blew up the umbilical personally, didn’t you?”
I felt a jolt of alarm at his statement. “Uh…Claver did that, sir.”
“Right... He came up here, took out three units of Germanica troops, and then polished off the staff at the tactical fire control console. You caught up when it was too late and shot him to death—from a prone position no less, according to the bio-people I had examine the scene just now.”
I squirmed in my seat. It suddenly felt too small to hold my butt. “He was a clever operator. You said so yourself.”
Graves continued to stare. “Clever enough to take out the guards, hack the control system, and fire Minotaur’s broadsides? Then nearly finish you with an improvised weapon?”
“Apparently so, sir.”
His lips twisted up into a grimace. I could tell he didn’t believe me. He knew there were some falsehoods in my story. Hell, it was full of holes. What was probably saving me so far was that he wasn’t sure exactly what had happened.
I’m not the kind of guy who worries about a possible disaster before it hits me, but I knew this could turn into a bad one. I’d really hoped people wouldn’t figure how deeply I’d been involved in all that grim business with Claver. Dammit, why did Graves have to be so on the ball?
Absently, my hand crept to the pocket where I kept the shell-like thing Claver had called a “Galactic key”. It was still there fortunately. I figured if it came down to it, I would use it again to escape custody.
“Sir,” I said, getting an idea. “What if I said Natasha and I might be able to fix this whole mess?”
I got a cold stare in response. “Go on.”
“Claver said the boxes were hacked—I’m talking about the holographic projectors all these Tau wear. That he was the man who’d hacked them and set them loose. We’ve had the chance to look at one of these boxes and dissect it. Natasha here has a good handle on how the problem could be fixed.”
Beside me, Natasha had begun to squirm. S
he was staring at me, and I knew I was overselling the deal. So far she was staying quiet, and I hoped she could keep up the facade.
“Are you serious, McGill?” Graves asked me.
“Absolutely, sir. We’re talking about stopping the riots and saving millions of lives. That’s worth a shot, isn’t it? What’s the worst that could happen?”
Graves huffed. “We could all be permed. All of Earth could be permed. I can think of plenty of other results as well that would be less dramatic but still unpleasant.”
“I’m sure you can, sir,” I said. “All I’m asking for is a chance to fix things. You know the Nairbs are watching. They’re just hanging out there in space judging our actions. If we can turn this around now—”
Graves lifted a hand. “We don’t know that’s a Nairb ship. It’s interstellar, but it’s not of any known design.”
I frowned. “Could it be from the Core Systems then?”
“Maybe,” Graves said. “The point is the vessel isn’t communicating with anyone or doing much of anything. That sounds like a Nairb or Galactic ship. They like to sit aloof, judging us in secret. But we can’t be sure.”
“Well then, let’s give them a show, Centurion,” I suggested.
Graves heaved a deep breath. “Personally, I think it is a Nairb ship. In my opinion, they’re staying quiet and filling out a score card on us. Remember that we’re Enforcers now and very new to the job. They’re probably trying to figure out whether they should fire on us or not over this mess. But that works in your favor, McGill, because we can’t afford to wait to end this.”
Graves sat back in his creaking chair and stared at the ceiling for a few seconds.
“All right,” he said at last. “I’m convinced it’s worth a try, God help us all. How many troops do you need to make your attempt?”
My jaw sagged in surprise. I could hardly believe my good fortune. “We only need one squad, sir. Preferably a squad of heavies. Just enough to cover us while we test out the system.”
“Test out…?” Natasha said, breaking into the conversation. “Test out what?”
“Your equipment,” I said firmly. “We’ll see if we can broadcast a signal that will infect their holographic boxes. It will spread exponentially in their massed crowds. Claver’s software did it—so can yours.”
