by Sara King
Something like this, Colonel, seems like it would have a reward attached.
Tommy stared at the handset. The greedy son of a bitch. He was ordering a planetwide quarantine and the man was completely ignoring him. He slammed the handset back into the receiver and ended the conversation.
“Was the governor right?” Corporal Bushin asked from beside the vidscreen.
Tommy glowered. “There’s a thirty-five million reward out for suzait. But, since the buggers are so tricky to track down, it’s only been claimed three or four times in as many centuries.”
“Thirty five million…” Bushin whistled.
“Over ten times what those three shifters are worth,” Tommy agreed. “Speaking of which, how are they doing?”
The corporal ran a check of the holding-cell and brought an image of the three stasis shells up on the vidscreen. The shifters appeared to be asleep.
“Bring up sound,” Tommy ordered.
There was a blip, and then some static.
“Magnify. They’re whispering.”
The corporal did as she was told. Immediately, Tommy heard, “…got away. They haven’t brought him back yet, have they?”
“They wouldn’t bring him back here if they caught him. Howlen’d prolly put him in a jar of formaldehyde and leave him on his dresser.”
Tommy felt his hackles rise. So the three shifters knew that their companion was a parasite. Aliens banding together to fight the human invaders, was it? Well, the four quadrants had been exclusively human territory for the last three thousand years. If they were still pining over lost planets, they were living in the past.
Tommy’s thoughts drifted back to the statements the three shifters had given under interrogation. Each was alarmingly similar. Two had said they had left Penoi because some of their friends had been captured during massive governmental roundups—which supposedly took place weekly for the reproduction of the Millennium Potion—and had searched out the famed pirate captain Athenais because they thought she could help them. The third said he had boarded Athenais’s ship as a stowaway on Millennium and, once he had realized who she was, had sent for his friends on Penoi. They thought something about Athenais could provide a ‘cure’ for the Millennium Potion. They also believed that the fabled space captain would be able to get them onto Millennium, where they would proceed to find their friends and destroy the Potion.
Tommy rubbed his temples and slumped into his chair. More because he needed the noise than anything else, he said, “Corporal, you were there during the interrogations. What did you think?”
Corporal Bushin turned away from the vidscreen and frowned. “I think the whole thing about Marceau Tempest harvesting colonists for the Millennium Potion was a load of crap.”
“Well, of course,” Tommy said. “What about the rest?”
Corporal Bushin winced. “I think they might have been telling the truth about that pirate captain. At least some of the truth.”
Tommy lifted a tired brow. “Oh?”
“Well, I couldn’t sleep one night so I looked up Athenais Owlborne in the Utopian database. I had to bypass several security levels, but once I was inside, there was…hundreds…of entries.”
“So she’s a bad pirate and gets caught a lot. What does that have to do with our prisoners?”
Bushin blushed. “Uh… Maybe you should see for yourself, sir.”
Tommy sat up and watched as she moved to her console and began typing.
“Might take awhile,” she apologized. Her fingers never missed a beat. Tommy realized after a moment that she was hacking into the upper tier security levels with the ease of a pro.
“No need for that,” Tommy muttered quickly, embarrassed. He stood up and entered his twelve digit access code and password, making sure she wasn’t watching as he did it. Legally, he should send her to the brig and have experts root through her infoscreen to find out what other areas of classified information she had compromised, but he was feeling generous.
“Here,” Bushin said, standing up. “You might want to sit down.”
Tommy took her chair and began going over the list of records. His eyes caught when he realized that the archives contained over six thousand entries. Normal people never had more than fifty to their name by the time they died. Career criminals usually had a couple hundred.
“She has a huge bounty on her head,” Bushin said from the side. “One point seven mil.”
Tommy frowned at the screen. “Why is this all classified? Why isn’t her picture posted around the four quadrants for law enforcement?”
“Seems her dad’s the Overseer of Penoi,” Bushin whispered.
Tommy turned to stare at Bushin. “What? The Overseer’s daughter? Impossible.”
Bushin pointed at the file. “It’s all in there. During several interrogations, she claimed that back when the Overseer was still perfecting the Potion, he made his daughter bring all her school friends to his house for a party. During the party, he dosed them all with the most primitive form of the Potion. Twelve of ‘em, in all. Then he watched them for a few years as they grew. When he was sure it had no harmful effects, he dosed himself.”
Tommy got a bad taste in his mouth. “Marceau tested on children?”
“That’s what her affidavits say. Like, hundreds of them.”
“So she’s insane,” Tommy growled. “Nothing new about that. Every once in awhile, the world gets a rotten apple.”
“Her entries go back all the way to the start of the Utopia. Have had to be transcribed several different times, from when the systems got changed or upgraded. That’s what that little timestamp down there means, see? Someone had to transfer this from an older format, six thousand years ago.”
Tommy narrowed his eyes at the corporal. “I know what a timestamp is.”
Bushin reddened again. “Well, if you read the affadavits, when she was twenty-five, Athenais noticed her and her comrades weren’t aging. When she confronted her father, she denounced him and took the name Athenais Owlborne. That’s when she tried killing herself for the first time. Blew her head right off and the medics who arrived watched as it pieced itself back together. After that, Athenais left Millennium and started pirating. She openly attacked supply ships to and from Millennium for centuries. Marceau formed the Utopia, and from then on, Athenais joined every rebellion that sprang up against it. She’s never been back for another dose, but as you can see, she’s almost as old as her father.”
Tommy stared at the screen, trying to make sense of the entries. “If these entries aren’t just an elaborate hoax, who’s protecting her?”
“Her father, I’d guess.”
“You said she blew her head off?”
“Yeah, one of those old-fashioned projectile weapons.”
“And lived?”
Bushin nodded. “Now here’s the really cool part—they didn’t even have regen rooms back then.”
Howlen thought back to the ship they had scuttled and the tiny hairs on his neck lifted. If he had helped kill Marceau Tempest’s daughter…
“What I want to know is how the shifters knew about it,” Bushin said, obviously getting excited, now. “They knew who she was and that she carried a stronger version of the Potion in her than the rest of the Utopia.”
“They probably have plants in the government,” Howlen said. He was distracted. If even part of what the shifters had said was true, why not the rest of it?
“But why didn’t Marceau give the rest of us the same Potion?” Bushin said. “Why make us come back for periodic doses?”
“Power,” Tommy said automatically. Then he grimaced.
“So you believe the shifters?” Bushin whispered.
Tommy stiffened and stood up. He hit the OFF key on the infoscreen, wiping the data from the display. “You are well outside your clearance, corporal, and it’s technically my job to report you. Let it drop. We’re digging into things we have no right knowing.”
“But…”
“Governor
Black wants to let a suzait run free on his planet, he’s more than welcome,” Tommy said, picking up his coffee canteen off the planning desk. “I hope the little bastard breeds himself a whole new colony. Send me a message when we’ve received authorization to proceed to Millennium. I’ll be in my room.”
Tommy left Corporal Bushin in the control room and moved through the passageways, trying not to think of the shifters. They were playing mind games with him. Hell, they’d probably hacked into the secured system and installed all those entries on the pirate. It obviously wasn’t very difficult, if Bushin could do it.
Tommy went to his room and locked the door behind him. It was the one room in the entire ship that no one else could access once it was locked. Even the command room had a list of users that could override a lock, including his copilot and navigator.
Not this one, however. Tommy often thought fondly of the fact that, if he were to die in his sleep, the crew would have to wait for a manual override from a dedicated Space Corps dock in order to get his corpse into his casket. It was somehow comforting. The one place he could truly relax.
Tommy entered his sanctuary and collapsed on his bed. On the end table in one corner, a pleasant miniature waterfall cascaded into a bed of rocks, filling the room with the sound of bubbling water. He had an aquarium set up in one corner, though his last fish had died of old age and he hadn’t gotten around to restocking it. He had a wall library near the door, filled with mythological stories of Old Earth. That had been an enchanting time. No universal government—imagine!—the first fumbling forays into space, projectile weapons, death, poverty, illness, heroes, natural scenery…
So long ago that no one even knew where the original planet that had cultured humanity really was. Or if it had even survived. There were whispers it had been destroyed, and that was why the first colonists on Millennium had been completely without support.
Tommy sighed and glanced up at the ceiling. To have lived in those exciting times…
Instead, he had to wade through miles of accumulated Utopian bureaucracy just to go to the bathroom.
Hands under his head, he thought again about retirement. He’d earned it. With thirty-six suzait and a hundred and sixteen shifter deaths or captures to his name, he’d certainly done his duty for the Utopia.
He studied the picture painted across the ceiling above him. It was a beautiful rendition of the landscape of Penoi. Blue water, blue sky, snowcapped peaks, verdant forests… He found himself once again longing for a time when the whole of human civilization could be contained between two mountain slopes on a lush river valley, when man was pitted against nature in a struggle for survival, and only his own innate abilities kept him and his family from vanishing under the jungle. Maybe he could take his savings and go found a colony somewhere, at the outermost edge of one of the quadrants…
Tommy must have fallen asleep, because he was jolted awake at the sound of Bushin’s voice on the intercom.
Colonel, we have a problem. The governor is denying our right to embark.
Tommy sat up, frowning. The lights were flickering. He fumbled for the handset and sent, “What does the governor have to do with this? We just need authorization from the Docking Administration.”
The governor wants to search our ship. He says that we may be harboring dangerous alien species.
Tommy scowled. “Tell him our ship is our business. We’re chartered by the Utopian Species Operations, for Christ’s sake! It’s our job.”
He’s ordered docking clamps to remain in place until he’s had a chance to look at our cargo. Said he has received information that must be verified.
“That greedy bastard!” Tommy shouted, lunging out of bed. “Tell him the suzait is on his planet, not on my ship!”
He’s not looking for suzait. He’s looking for shifters.
Tommy froze. Who had told the governor about the shifters?
Colonel?
“Stay there. I’ll be out in a minute.” Tommy got up, straightened his uniform, and punched the UNLOCK command on his door. He strode outside and headed for the command deck, furious with himself for involving a civilian. If he hadn’t mentioned the suzait, the governor wouldn’t have had reason to look deeper. Renee Becket would have been just another number on a list of Utopian ships seeking permission to embark.
When Tommy got to the control deck, the room was buzzing with activity. His security chief was there, as was his copilot and engineer.
“Colonel, this isn’t good,” his engineer said, without prelude. “They’ve reversed the flow on the recharge lines. They’re sucking us dry.”
“So that’s why the lights are flickering,” Tommy growled. He nodded to his security officer. “Ming, go cut them off with the supplemental laser portside.”
His engineer balked. “We do that and we can’t recharge at another dock until we’ve returned to harbor for repairs.”
“If you wait much longer, we won’t be going anywhere.”
His security officer sat down at the weapons console and brought up an image of the two recharge lines that ran into the dock. She centered on one and squeezed the trigger. The Renee Becket shuddered and the line snapped, sparking with uncontained energy.
Immediately, the com screen lit up. Tommy took the call.
Renee Beckett, you have fired a weapon while docked at a government facility. Terra-9 Docking Authority fines you eight hundred credits for—
Tommy shut the screen off. “Get the other one.”
His security officer obliged. The lights stopped flickering and the com screen lit up again. Tommy ignored it. “Can you reach the docking clamps?”
Everyone watched in mute silence as his security chief swiveled the supplemental laser to the left.
“Negative,” she finally said. “I’d have to shoot a hole in the ship.”
“Try the main weapons array, then.”
His security officer gave him an uneasy look, but followed orders. “Same here,” she said finally. “The array wasn’t made to fire on something with such proximity to the ship.”
“Damn. What about tearing ourselves loose?”
“We’d tear off our airlock first,” the engineer said.
Tommy scowled at the monitor. “We’re not letting them on this ship. Send for help from any Utopian ships within com range.”
“Already tried it. Only ones within range are already docked. Docking Authority’s got them pinned, too.”
“Message from Governor Black, sir.” Corporal Bushin offered him the com handheld.
Tommy took it with a grunt. He depressed the SEND button and bowled over the greeting the Governor extended. “You goddamned rebel bastard. The Utopia’s gonna install martial law on this little shithole planet. They’re gonna sweep the whole damn place clean. When they’re finished rooting out your bars and whorehouses, they’ll have the whole Internal Investigations section here examining your ass with a microscope. If they find anything, and they will, you’re gonna spend the next hundred years bending over for a miner on Erriat. If you’re not gonna release the clamps, then I suggest you invest in a few more crates of petroleum jelly to take with you.”
The com was silent for minutes.
“Think he heard you?” his copilot snickered.
When the governor spoke, his voice was chilly. We received reports that you are carrying alien life-forms outlawed by the Utopia. Until you prove that you are not, we are obligated to search your ship and turn over any banned organisms to Utopian authorities.
“This is a goddamn Species Operations ship! We are the authorities, you incompetent moron.”
So you admit you are transporting outlawed alien species across system borders.
Tommy stared at the transmitter in his hand, fighting the urge to throw it across the room. As calmly as he could, he said, “If you think you’ll somehow be able to claim the reward because you took them from government personnel, you are about as intelligent as the people who put you into office.”
I’m sorry, Colonel, but until you deliver the aliens to our care, we cannot allow you to leave.
“We’ve already logged their identifiers into the government net,” Tommy snarled. “They’re worthless to you now.
The com went dead.
Tommy put the transmitter down carefully. “Keep sending out that distress signal. They’ll likely try to scramble it, so switch frequencies. Make sure everybody who passes near this damn place knows what’s going on. Maybe we’ll get lucky and catch a gunship.”
Seems you were right. Colonel Howell is hiding something.
Athenais leaned back, grinning. “Refusing an inspection, is he?”
He was very disagreeable. It’s been most unpleasant.
“You didn’t expect it to be a walk in the park for twelve mil, did you?”
I asked you not to mention it over open com.
“Who cares? This is T-9. You do business with pirates all the time.”
Still, they might be recording this.
“Let them. When they come to arrest you, you can take your twelve mil and find some nice, tropical planet to live out the rest of your life on. Hell, I’ll even take you there.”
You are positive there are three shifters aboard that ship?
“Positive.”
I’m sorry if I’m confused, Captain, but aren’t they only worth three mil a head?
“The extra three mil is a bonus to you, for all the extra unpleasantness Colonel Howlen gives you.”
And when will I be seeing the other five mil?
“As soon as the shifters are safely on my ship and we’re long gone. I’ll have a friend wire you the rest.”
What’s the name of your friend? How can I be sure I’ll be paid?
“You have my word.”
I want some sort of insurance.
Athenais pursed her lips in irritation. “We already discussed this. You’ve got my holdings on T-9 as collateral.”
They’re barely worth three mil and I will need liquid assets if the Utopia comes looking for me.
