by B. V. Larson
I could tell right off Graves was in an even worse mood than yesterday. When he saw the two of us walk in together he twisted up his lips. He gave me a slow shake of his head.
“Get over here, McGill.”
I hustled to his side. “What’s up today, sir? Can I please wear the squid suit again? Maybe I could pop myself into one of these walls. Or maybe, I could dial it up hard and experience the warmth of old Sol’s fusion core.”
He stared at me. “How’d you do it?” he asked. “And don’t give me any bullshit this time.”
I knew what he meant. He wanted to know how I’d managed to control the suit after the other guys had died.
His bad attitude didn’t faze me. I felt refreshed and happy. Lisa had given me new hope somehow. She’d been scared yesterday, sure, but she now seemed fresh and ready too.
Glancing over at her as she began testing her equipment again and scolding her underlings, I turned back to Graves and shrugged.
“Well sir,” I said, lowering my voice, “if you really want to know, the art of wooing a fine woman isn’t easily explained in a single lesson. I’d have to take you under my wing and—”
He made a gargling noise. I wasn’t sure if he was choking or laughing. It might have been a little of both.
“I’m not talking about your midnight escapades,” he said. “I’m talking about mastering that suit. You jumped. No one else has managed to pull it off.”
“Oh… that. Sir, I’m sure that with a few more tries your people—”
Graves extended his arm toward the members of Omega Team. He pointed at them, and I frowned as I looked them over. There were considerably fewer Omegas than there had been yesterday. Those that remained were looking mighty glum.
“Uh… what happened to them?”
“What do you think? While you’ve been banging my lead tech, I’ve been frying these poor hog bastards one after another. Seven of them bought it just this morning. It doesn’t matter what we do, they all die.”
“Electrocution?”
Graves pointed again, this time toward a sizeable region of overlapping scorch marks on the floor.
“So,” he said, “how’d you do it?”
The idea of telling the truth struck me. This could be the time to come clean with Graves about the Galactic Key. That would be a huge admission, and I would certainly lose the key to the tech crew.
But there’s something about the Galactic Key. The sheer power it represents makes a person want to keep it forever.
The choice was a difficult one—but I made it on the spot.
“I don’t rightly know, Centurion,” I said, scratching my head and looking as baffled as possible. “Maybe these squid suits just don’t like the taste of hogs.”
“That’s what I thought you’d say,” Graves answered. He turned toward the ghoulish team of techs. They were just moving to stalk their next victim among the long-faced Omegas.
“Halt those tests!” Graves ordered. “Stand down, people. I’m going to have a little talk with McGill and a few others. Veteran Harris!”
Harris trotted up to him eagerly. He must have had an inkling of what was to follow, because he seemed very excited. “Yes sir?”
“Arrest Adjunct McGill. We’re taking him upstairs with us.”
Grinning, Harris whipped out handcuffs and clicked them onto my wrists.
“I smell an execution!” he hissed into my ear. He gave me a shove then, and I followed Graves out of the room.
On the way past the techs, I caught Lisa’s eye. She looked horrified.
Winking at her, I gave her a broad Georgia grin. “Nothing to worry about, Miss. My tram is double-parked outside, that’s all.”
She didn’t respond. She just gave me a look of confusion, and then we were out in the corridor heading toward the elevators.
“If this is a matter of personal jealousy, sir,” I said. “It seems overblown.”
“Shut up, McGill. Unless you feel like explaining how you jumped when everyone else was turned to toast, I don’t want to hear another word out of you.”
“I’m as much in the dark about that as you are, Centurion.”
He grunted and we rode up in the elevator in silence. Graves worked his tapper the entire trip, no doubt making arrangements via texting. This made me sweat a little. Graves wasn’t a man to be trifled with.
He was, in fact, a ruthless bastard under the best of circumstances. There was no telling how far he’d go when the stakes were high. In this case, the fate of Earth was arguably in the balance.
When we reached our destination floor, I was surprised by how quiet it was. The floor was packed with offices, but the corridors seemed empty.
We entered one of those offices, the only one in the line that was occupied. Turov and Winslade were there. They’d been stripped down and strapped to steel chairs. They were gagged, and they watched us with wary expressions.
There was a third chair in the line. Without being told, I took my seat in that one.
Grinning broadly, Veteran Harris strapped me in.
“Here we all are,” Graves said, closing the door. “Winslade, Turov and McGill. Before we begin, does anyone want to say anything?”
“I do!” I said promptly.
“Shut up. I meant one of these two. They’ve spent a long night in their respective chairs.”
Winslade nodded. Graves loosened his gag.
“Where are the others?” he demanded. “Kivi and Carlos were—”
Graves tightened the gag back up again. Winslade made odd slurping sounds while he did so.
“Trying to spread the love, huh?” Graves said. “They’re already dead if that makes you any happier. They’ve been executed for refusing to talk.”
That annoyed me. My friends hadn’t really known anything about the key or the suits. I’m sure they would have talked if they could have.
“If that’s how you’re playing it, why didn’t you execute me right off?” I demanded.
“Because Drusus wanted to watch you. We figured you might know more than you were letting on. Sure enough, you teleported. That confirmed my suspicions. You three are still in league with the squids somehow.”
Turov’s eyes slid around, but she didn’t indicate she wanted to speak. I could almost see the tiny gears spinning in her scheming brain. She knew I had the key. She’d probably already figured out how I’d ported.
But she also didn’t want to give up the key to Graves. Once Central had it, she’d never get it back. So, she kept quiet.
Graves walked in front of us for a second time. He had his pistol in his hand, and I considered confessing. Again, I rejected the idea. I kept quiet and shrugged.
Graves lifted his laser pistol. The aiming dot shined between my eyes. I gave him a smirking wink.
Grunting, he moved to Winslade. The gun brightened. There was a burning smell. Winslade shivered, pissed himself, and died.
“Get that out of here,” Graves ordered.
“Maybe we should work them over a little more first, sir,” Harris suggested as he dragged the body away. “Real legionaries don’t fear a quick death.”
“Shut up.”
He walked to Turov. He shot her tapper. She hissed and squirmed.
“Imperator,” he said. “I’m authorized to execute you to find out what McGill—or any of you—know. You’re under investigation for treason. Note that the back-up of your mind has been deleted from the data core. Now that your tapper is disabled, a kill-shot will be permanent. Would you like to say anything?”
She nodded her head angrily. He loosened the gag.
“This is illegal,” she panted. “There’s been no due process, no court martial, nothing! I demand to see a lawyer!”
Graves shook his head. “Legal mumbo-jumbo has been suspended. All rights have been suspended. The ruling council has authorized the military to do anything necessary to defend Earth. No questions will be asked.”
She looked wild, desperate. She breathed
hard, thinking.
“I know how to operate the dial,” she said at last. “Don’t nudge it fractionally. It seems analog, but it isn’t—it’s digital with several billion settings. So many that it only seems analog. Cephalopods have tentacles that are more sensitive and precise than our fingers.”
Graves looked suspicious. “Are you saying that these controls are far too touchy for humans to control,” he pointedly stared at me. “That by trying to improvise and teleport a short distance, we caused our own men to fry—except of course for McGill who was super lucky?”
“You must click it to the second hash-mark on the dial. That will take you to the point of origin. The others are presets, too. Anything else is unknown to me, but you must stick to the preprogrammed destinations to be safest.”
“Interesting control interface…” he said. “But why the fireworks? Why do my men keep getting fried?”
“The dial has security built in. You can’t just choose a destination at random. You have to choose a valid one.”
Graves nodded. “Hmm. So you’re basically saying that McGill chose a valid setting by chance?”
“Yes—he must have.”
All this was news to me. I wasn’t sure if it was bullshit or real. It could be either one with Galina Turov. She was quite possibly the biggest liar on the planet—if you didn’t count me.
Graves, however, wasn’t convinced.
“I don’t buy it,” he said.
Without ceremony, he shot her in the head.
-16-
Stunned, I stared at Turov’s slumped body. Could she really be permed? An imperator?
Earth had to be going through a serious political upheaval to allow execution in the ranks. I was reminded of many purges of officers in the past world wars. Losing armies tended to do that. I’d never thought I’d bear witness to that kind of day myself.
Graves walked over to me and stood close. “Do I have your undivided attention now, Adjunct?”
“You sure do, sir. Is that why you permed Turov? To get my attention?”
“Not just that. I thought she was lying. I don’t like liars. I never have.”
“There’s no excuse for lying, sir,” I agreed heartily. “Especially not under these circumstances.”
Graves chuckled. “I’m glad we understand one another.”
Then, that prick shot my tapper.
“Same drill, Adjunct,” he said. “Don’t upset me, or you’re permed.”
Graves was good, I had to admit that. He had me sweating. Everyone was dead except for me. I was the last member of the commando team that had dared to storm Central.
The tension even seemed to be getting to Harris. He wasn’t smiling anymore. He stood with his arms crossed, frowning at both of us.
When caught red-handed, I like to think I’m at my best. When everyone knows I’m guilty, my imagination tends to kick into overdrive.
“Centurion,” I said. “Turov left out a vital element when she explained how these suits operate. They can be attuned to individuals. Like our smart guns.”
He squinted at me. “So… you were attuned somehow?”
“I believe that is what Imperator Turov arranged.”
He chewed that over. “So only you can jump?”
“Seems like it, since you killed the rest of us. But I highly recommend you have Harris try it a few more times to make sure I’m not lying.”
Harris made an unhappy grunting sound, but he didn’t say anything intelligible.
“Hmm,” Graves said, nodding and scratching. “Your story does fit the events. I wonder why Turov tried to hide that detail…”
“It’s hard to fathom the workings of a twisted criminal mind, sir.”
He snorted. “You’re up for treason as well, McGill.”
“A technicality,” I said with my best sincerity. “I’m sure that if I can get these suits working for Central, I can secure a pardon.”
“Ah!” he said, suddenly brightening. “Finally, you’re beginning to bargain. I’ve been waiting for that.”
“Bargaining? I wouldn’t call it that. We’ll all be heroes if you’ll only give me another shot. We’ll unlock these suits, and we’ll use them to great effect.”
“How so?”
Shrugging, I leaned back as if at ease. “Your plan is obvious, Centurion. You want to use these suits to jump aboard the squid ships and attack them with commandos. If that can be achieved, Earth might survive this battle.”
“You’ve divined our plan. How’d you figure it out?”
“Normally, the defense of Earth would be the fleet’s responsibility. The fact Legion Varus has been given a major role—well—we’re the best infantry that Earth has. The plan seemed obvious to me after I realized that.”
“You’re right that the fleet has failed us. We’re just about the only hope Central has left to win this. Can you do it, McGill? Will you do it?”
My guesswork had been confirmed. This display of ruthless terror had been designed to force me to help. I was beginning to understand that Graves didn’t really want to shoot me. After all, I was literally the only man he’d ever seen who’d been able to get one of these suits to operate at all.
“I’m one hundred and ten percent sure that I can, sir.”
He shook his head bemusedly. “Of course… as long as I take off your cuffs.”
“That would be a nice start.”
He eyed me like a slab of cold meat in a locker for several seconds.
“Okay,” he said at last. “I’m going to take another chance on you, Adjunct. I’m going to put you back into that jump-suit. We’ll dial it up and select one of the notches, like Turov said. You’ll go for the big jump if you go anywhere at all.”
“How will I get back if I succeed?” I asked.
Graves shrugged. “If Turov was telling the truth, then one of the other presets should bring you right back here.”
I thought that over. There were six presets on the dial. It would be kind of like playing Russian roulette.
But then again, it was the best option I had at the moment.
Smiling, I nodded to them both. “Let’s do this!”
They let me out of the chair, but they kept my hands cuffed.
I didn’t care. I knew I wasn’t going to die for at least another ten minutes. Sometimes, a man has to look on the bright side of life.
When I returned with Harris and Graves to the testing room, the techs and the Omegas stared at me like I was some kind of rabid dog.
Putting on my smile again, I gave Lisa a quick up-down of the eyebrows.
“Hey,” I said. “What did I tell you? All a misunderstanding.”
Harris removed my cuffs, and I stretched luxuriously.
“Let’s get to work,” Graves ordered. “Get McGill suited up. Same suit he managed to port in last time.”
The tech team approached me warily. They looked like I might bite them. They also looked apologetic.
The first thing they did was call in a few bio people to replace my tapper. That hurt, let me tell you. There was blood on my arm and quite a few less arm hairs in evidence by the time they were done.
A few minutes later, Lisa was strapping me in. I got snugged up with external straps while the material shaped itself around me to fit my human physique.
Lisa wasn’t looking me in the eye. I’m no psych major, I but I know that’s not a good sign.
“Loved our date last night,” I said experimentally.
“Good,” she said, still not looking at me.
“Anything wrong?”
She paused and frowned up into my face. “Are you kidding?”
“No. You seem upset.”
“I am upset,” she whispered. Only the other techs could hear us, but they were being cool about it.
“Uh…” I said, chewing it over. “Did I forget to kiss you or something?”
“No, you idiot. You’re about to die! I’m going to fry you in about two minutes. That’s what’s bothering
me. I should never have gotten involved.”
“Oh… that. Yeah, it could happen.”
She stepped back and looked at me. “How can you Varus people be so callous toward death. I mean, even if you do come back—you still died.”
“You’re right about that. But you have to understand, getting electrocuted isn’t a bad way to go. Quick, clean. No watching your guts getting torn out and eaten or anything.”
I shrugged. She shuddered in return.
“I don’t know,” she said, going back to working on my straps and plugging me in.
“Don’t know what?”
“If I can see you again after this—I mean, if you…”
“If I fry?”
She nodded her head.
Taking in a deep breath, I tried to come up with an angle.
“Trust me,” I said, giving her a confident smile. “I’m going to be fine.”
She smiled finally. It was only a glimmer, a hopeful wan expression, but it was good to see.
“Come on, come on!” Graves boomed. “What’s the hold up? Are you two getting married?”
There were a few chuckles from the team. They retreated, and Lisa held up the power switch. She was doing the honors herself this time.
I lifted my hand and gave her the traditional thumbs-up. With the other hand, I touched the Galactic Key to the dial. That’s how you do sleight of hand, by the way. When everyone is looking at your face, or your big thumb sticking up in the air—that’s the moment your other hand is doing the dirty work. As any magician will tell you, no one will notice if you do your tricks without hesitation and you time it right.
The generator began to hum. I smelled ozone, but I didn’t feel fear. What was to come was to come.
I reached my hand up to the dial, but I hesitated.
“Graves?” I called out.
“Dammit. What is it now, McGill?”
“I need a weapon.”
“No.”
My hand slid away from the dial. “Come on, Centurion.”
He grumbled and walked up to me. He had his pistol in his hand, but he wasn’t handing it over yet.
“You’re going to shoot me with this, aren’t you? All this bullshit about teleporting, and all you want is a little public revenge before you go out? Isn’t that right?”
