“He should be coming around any time now,” said the practiced, soothing voice of a medical professional—a female medical professional, I noted with some surprise and a dash of hope. Not the hope most twenty-something young men would have, since my personal motto (especially with my bloodthirsty wife back in the picture) was: the uglier the better. I knew such maxims would save me stress later on.
No, the important thing was that after dealing with the wishy-washy Presbyter, and then the murderous would-be memory-wiping Torgeson, I was about ready to give up on male doctors. Maybe having a female medical professional in charge of my care for once, would yield less…stressful results.
The fewer issues I had to deal with, the better.
“Well?” Akantha demanded.
“Enhance your calm, My Lady,” urged the voice of Captain Laurent. I had to suppress a groan, since telling my girl to calm down when she was aggravated was the worst way to play it—things were definitely about to get worse. I desperately tried to return to a state of unconsciousness. If this were a simple case of mind over matter, then I was about to be knocked back out for the next several hours, so I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to project sleepiness over my being.
“Who are you to tell me to be calm?” Akantha asked in a low, dangerous voice.
Yep, I knew it. Wrong way to go, Laurent, I silently commented from the non-verbal peanut gallery.
“I’ve been getting increased brain activity for the past half-minute,” said the doctor in a normal professional voice.
“Well, when, then?!” Akantha said sounding irritated.
“He should be waking up any time now,” The Doctor explained in a slightly elevated tone of voice. I could tell that she was talking to me, and on the one hand I was more than irritated at her for forcing my hand—yet strangely grateful that she hadn’t broken my cover. Maybe I could work with her?
To keep the rabid wolves at bay for a few seconds longer, I drew in a breath and loosed a very audible groan.
“Nungh,” I sputtered, trying to make the next groan into a moan, and hopefully send the new stressors in my life away until I’d had time to regain my wits, figure out where I was and what was happening and, most importantly, get some clothes on! I had only just realized I was essentially naked underneath a light sheet, except for one of those hospital gowns that left your backside out there swinging in the wind.
“Jason,” Akantha said her long, deceptively slender looking hands reaching over and gripping my arm with punishing force, “wake up,” she said in a commanding voice as she shook me from side to side.
I let my eyes flutter open. This wasn’t the reunion I’d been hoping for, that was for sure. But I still hoped to salvage something from the ruins of every romantic plan I’d concocted during our extended time apart.
“Akantha,” I said, opening my eyes and upon seeing her I let a big smile stretch across my face. The funny thing was that it was only partially for show. I raised my arms for a hug, hoping I could defuse this thing—whatever it was—before it got serious and I got yelled at…again. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.” A hug, definitely—maybe a kiss, if she didn’t look like she’d tear my head off if I tried it, I decided, and then hopefully all this ugliness could be temporarily diverted. Wifely reunion, here I come, I thought with rising hope.
Akantha gave me one more shake and then deftly stepped out of the reach of my arms. The warning look she gave me indicated quite clearly that I had a lot to answer for. Probably including, if not centered on, the fact that we hadn’t exchanged so much as a com-message from the moment she got in system until right before I threw my uncle to the Bugs.
“We have much to discuss, Protector,” she said sternly.
I let my arms drop. “Have we dealt with Bugs yet?” I asked hopefully.
“They are not yet destroyed,” Akantha informed me archly.
I grunted, and it felt like all the wind had been taken out of my sails. Not another death ride; I was still stuck in my sick bed!
“Okay,” I said, steeling myself as I got an elbow under me and started for the side of the bed. I ignored a twinge in my side where, as I recalled, my dearly-departed uncle had stuck a vibro-knife in it. Everyone was always going on about their backstabbing relatives; it looked like I had more to fear from the megalomaniacal side-stabbing ones.
“Stay,” my beloved wife and merciless Hold-Mistress instructed, me laying a hand on my shoulder, causing me to look up at her curiously. “I said not yet destroyed,” she informed me, “I did not say they were not being dealt with.”
I looked at her and then over curiously at Captain Laurent, who gave me a nod.
“We parked every ship in the fleet with a turbo-laser just outside of Bug beam range, and are firing a broadside every minute right up its backside where the engines used to be. It’ll probably take us the better part of a day to finish gutting her from stern to stem, but she’s not going anywhere and we only have to maneuver when we need to avoid a newly-launched boarding party. Point defenses take care of the rest,” Laurent said with a reassuring expression on his face.
“Then why am I up?” I asked in confusion, and while Akantha and the rest of them were still gathering their wits, I saw my chance and I shamelessly took it, quickly slithering a hand up over Akantha’s. When she didn’t immediately resist—probably from surprise—I quickly intertwined our fingers while giving her a hopeful look.
I freely admit to being shameless. As they say, ‘all things are fair in love and war,’ and I wasn’t about to let this opportunity pass me by. On the one hand I could use all the maneuvering room I could get, and on the other…
I looked up at the icy eyes of my wife; we had been apart for the better part of half a year now. Strange as it was to say, even at that very moment, I missed her.
Some of this must have shown through, because instead of smacking me upside the head, braining me, or stabbing a knife through my hand, I saw her hesitate and give my fingers a slight squeeze. It was so slight I think no one else would have noticed, even if they were waiting for it, but it was there and something inside me unclenched slightly.
Oh, I knew my Sword-Bearer was still one violent girl and that none of that was in the past, but I felt reassured that after whatever crisis of the moment we had to deal with, I would still have a marriage to go home to. I might not have planned, or wanted, to be married to the woman who had become my wife but at some point I’d moved past reluctant acceptance into missing and wanting her by my side.
Don’t say it; I knew myself for a complete and utter fool who would suffer greatly just for having such thoughts, but there they are all the same. I was a fool for her.
Her expression slowly hardened, and I knew that fool or not, it was time to get out of the line of fire.
“We have much to discuss—” Laurent started diplomatically.
“Okay…” I began questioningly, glancing back and forth between him and my wife mainly because I didn’t like the expression brooding on Akantha’s face.
Then, finally, the dam burst.
“How could you, Jason?” Akantha smacked me in the back of the head and then quite literally snarled.
“Ow!” I exclaimed as my hand went to the offended portion of my skull. “What was that for?!”
“We have not even finished the re-conquest and liberation of my Hold and home world—to say nothing of the enemies you have left behind us in the heart of this Sector,” Akantha glared at me, “and yet you already plan another war!”
My eyes bugged out. “A war! You’ve got me all wrong,” I declared as quickly as I could, “I plan to finish dealing with Tracto first!” I hesitated, “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I intend to deal with Central and those politicians in good time, but—” Akantha cut me off.
“I know the truth,” Akantha glared at me, all feelings of homecoming and lost, star-crossed romance apparently forgotten, “you cannot hide it from me, although why you would try to do so is beyond me.” She took
a deep breath while I stared at her in continued confusion and eventually she shook her head, “I thought that the warriors of my people were overly prone to leaping into battle without a moment’s notice, but now I find that the Star-born are just as bad, or perhaps worse!”
I shook my head in disbelief and lack of understanding.
“Pretend that I’ve been hit in the head—hard—and need reminding,” I said plaintively, “just tell me what you’re going on about.”
Frustration clear as day on her face, Akantha looked down at me with concern that quickly morphed back into outrage and disgust. “Do not play me, Protector,” she hissed, leaning down and projecting menace to a man still in his sick bed, “I have already spoken with Kong Pao and—”
“Kong?” I interrupted. “Who in the world is this Kong, and why have you’ve been listening to him over the words of your own Husband?!” My mind flashed with instant jealousy. Who is this ‘Kong’ that he thought he was free to try and mess with my marriage and slander me like this, I fumed.
“Kong,” Akantha repeated, and when I was still giving her the blank, yet still jealously fuming, stare, she gave a sound of pure feminine frustration, “Representative Kong, the Ambassador sent from Sectors 23 and 24, who arrived in my star system asking for your help in saving his world, alliance and sector, from the Droid Tribes who are overrunning those sectors—that Kong Pao,” she snapped at me.
My mouth opened to retort, but I quickly closed it. “The Representative who arrived with Middleton?” I said, praying inside and hoping against hope that I was wrong.
“The very one, Sir,” Laurent hastened to assure me.
I gave him a very dark look, one that promised retribution for his very helpful attempt to throw me under the hover bus that was Hold Mistress and wife, Adonia Akantha Zosime.
Then what had just been said sank in. “There are Droid Tribes over running Sectors of the Spine?!” I blurted, bolting upright in my bed and ignoring the sudden pain that lanced through my chest and side as I did so.
“Do not play the fool, Protector,” Akantha said, drawing herself up into her best frigid, icy self and staring down at me imperiously. “As I have told you before, it does not suit you.”
“Oh, blast it, blast it straight into Murphy’s darkest pit,” I snapped, then shot a hard look over at Akantha, “I haven’t heard anything about any Droid invasions,” raising a finger before she could intervene, “I specifically ordered Middleton and that Representative to keep quiet until after the Bugs were dealt with, since I didn’t have the capacity to deal with any more problems!” I most specifically didn’t add, ‘like you have so helpfully brought to my sickbed, despite my very strict instructions to all the other parties involved!’
“World of Men,” Akantha cursed, “it does not matter what I say; I know you. You are a man,” she declared, as if this explained everything, and maybe in her home culture it did, “that is why you will simply charge off into another war despite anything I say.” She finished looking down at me angrily, “My Hold bleeds, and you shall suffer for this.”
“I have made no such decisions,” I protested with a sinking sensation and then turned to Laurent, “Droids are overrunning worlds in two Sectors,” I said plaintively. This could not be happening; I had just fought—and won—a war against pirates! I had just fought—and was about to win—a war against the Bugs! And pardon me for pointing out the obvious, but I had emerged victorious over both in the same knock-down, drag-out battle! I did not need—repeat that times a thousand—DID NOT NEED another battle to the death.
“Yes, Sir,” Laurent reported in a very professional and military sounding voice, “as I understand it, the Representative originally wanted help from the Rim Fleet but they couldn’t spare the resources for a wild goose chase.” Laurent paused, “Then they found Middleton patrolling the edge of their Sector, and after a few minor difficulties they sent the Representative to formally request aid, protection, and relief from the Rim Fleet’s successor: the Multi-Sector Patrol Fleet.”
“They did this despite my specific orders not to mention their troubles until after all our enemies in here were defeated?” I demanded, in what likely came out as more of a ‘whine.’
“Yes, Sir,” Laurent replied curtly.
“Oh, grow up, Protector,” Akantha snapped, “you are about to get us into another war, and all you can do is whine about procedure?”
“I just heard about this!” I exclaimed. “I haven’t decided anything…except that-that…uh, that violating my very clear and specific orders has made the chances of me helping them decrease!”
My outrage turned to sullenness as both Akantha and Laurent looked down at me with disapproval.
“Hey,” I protested, “don’t pick on a guy in his sick bed.”
“Whatever,” Akantha muttered and stalked over to the far side of the room where she stood, half-turned away from me. She was clearly planning to pretend to ignore me, until she heard something that outraged her, of course, at which point she would dive back in with both feet.
“Why would we help them?” I asked Laurent, and before his look had done more than turn slightly disapproving, I added, “what I mean is: how can we help them? Our fleet just got trashed!”
Laurent’s expression cleared at my clarification, and accepting the meager win, I lay back down in my bed and said nothing. I mean, everything I had just said was true. I really wanted to help people, I really did; it’s just that I’d been burned too many times lately and on top of that, well…blast it, our fleet just got thrashed! Tracto had just been freed from invasion—and, for all I knew, occupation—and now there was this.
“It would be difficult, Admiral,” Laurent allowed, sounding concerned.
“Blasted right it would,” I snapped, thinking of all the reasons why I didn’t need to go haring off into two entire, other sectors, when I had snakes right here at home that I still needed to crush back at Central. Sir Isaac, for one, immediately came to mind—that double-dealing snake in ambassadorial clothing!
“I do not believe a word of this,” Akantha declared and then strode for the exit, “when you are finally prepared to stop lying about your intentions, we shall talk. I know you too well to accept any of this.”
With that, she was out of the room.
“Stupid women,” I glared at the door with hot and angry eyes. First, she wakes me up when I desperately needed sleep, and then she accuses me of starting a war I had no idea about and then storms off in an angry huff! “Can’t live with ’em, can’t…” I trailed off, too risk-averse to hazard the words I would have liked to say.
“I honestly don’t know how, or if, we could help,” Laurent finally admitted, “and by ‘we,’ I mean ‘the MSP’.”
“Exactly,” I exclaimed.
“Although,” Laurent said reluctantly, and it was the sort of reluctance that I instinctively disliked tremendously, since it implied he was going to say something I didn’t like, “that said, this is exactly the sort of situation the MSP was created for.”
Blast it…he was right. I started mentally cursing under my breath. I needed to deal with Sector 25 and Sir Isaac, first and foremost, not to mention that the Border Worlds still needed protection and patrolling in a unified effort to make sure the pirates didn’t come back. Not to mention making sure the Bug threat was finally over, once and for all.
“Did they mention any reasons other than that?” I asked, dreading the answer.
“Well,” Laurent hesitated, “the Representative is also a Sector Judge.”
“And that pertains…how?” I asked, feeling more than a little perplexed.
Laurent coughed into his hand and started to look squirrelly to my eyes.
“Go on and spit it out,” I snapped.
“There is rumor of some sort of signed confession, along with an injunction from the Sector Judge—the 25th Sector Judge,” he quickly clarified, “not this new Representative, of course.”
My face tightened as I
took his meaning.
“Not that anyone in this Fleet believes it,” Laurent said quickly, “and even if it had been written and signed, it was certainly under duress.”
“Enough,” I said flatly.
“It’s just,” he continued, “that outside the fleet, an injunction removing you from command by a Sector Judge, along with orders from a supposed High Commander to stand down,” I noted how he very carefully didn’t mention the now deceased, but likely already replaced, Admiral Yagar, “might make your position as Admiral of the MSP appear…less than fully legitimate to those worlds and provincial militaries that are still on the fence.”
“At this point I think people are either for us, or against the Tyrant of Cold Space,” I said coldly.
“You lead, I’ll follow,” Laurent declared stiffly.
I looked at him steadily. “But,” I led.
Laurent looked like he had finally spoken his mind, but I knew better.
“But,” I prompted again.
“Man, not Machine,” Laurence finally sighed.
I stared at him. “Go on,” I said finally, “as I assume this isn’t some kind of knee-jerk, anti-AI bit of propaganda speaking here.”
“Well, Sir,” Laurence said carefully, “I actually do believe in the whole ‘rage against the machine’ movement that founded our current governmental structures, but that’s not really what I’m talking about.” He took a breath and then continued, “You see, it occurred to me that even if we didn’t send the whole fleet—just a few reinforcements and a relief column—that trying to sack or depose a Confederation Admiral who was fighting against a Droid Invasion force would be a lot more…risky for the politicians and armchair Admirals, than going up against the carbon cut-out, Media Villain they’ve tried to create. On top of that, what one Sector Judge orders, another can overturn.”
“Man, not Machine,” I muttered, feeling a sour taste in my mouth.
“Man, not Machine, Sir,” Laurent agreed.
“I’m not sold,” I grumbled with a sinking sensation in my stomach.
Admiral's Revenge (A Spineward Sectors Novel:) Page 55
