The Golden Horde (The Revelations Cycle Book 4)

by Chris Kennedy

  A loud roaring came from behind the door. “Doesn’t sound like he’s in the mood for guests,” Mun noted.

  “Nope. The Veetch probably woke him up from a nap.” She shook her head. “That’s bad; they’re notoriously bad-tempered when first woken up.”

  “Normally, I’d suggest coming back another time,” Mun said as the roaring continued in the other room; “too bad that’s not an option. I hope you’ve got more of those diamonds. Whatever the gate master is, he has quite the vocal range.”

  “It’s probably a Sumatozou,” Sansar said; “most of the masters are.”

  “What’s a Sumatozou?”

  “They look like a small elephants that walk on their back legs; about the only thing that’s different from an Earth elephant is that their trunk is split in two. Unfortunately, they’re also kind of xenophobic, and they don’t deal well with other races. They’re good for positions like this, where they don’t usually have to deal with members of other races.”

  “Except for now.”

  “Yeah.”

  They waited another couple minutes, and the roaring dropped to a non-earsplitting level. Eventually, the Veetch came back through the door.

  “The Gate Master will see you now,” the manager’s assistant said. The Veetch waved a grasping appendage toward the door behind it. “Please go in.”

  “Why, thank you very much,” Sansar said with her biggest smile. It was the only way she knew to hide the sarcasm. Mun joined her as she got up and walked to the door.

  Sansar strode into the room and found the Gate Master standing behind his desk. Fully nine feet tall, the alien had large green stripes with red trim that ran down his trunks and covered most of his head. The rest of his body was a light gray. He bowed slightly and said, “I greet you, Colonel Enkh of The Golden Horde. I am Gate Master Frapotonal. I understand you have a matter of life and death. You must have been very persuasive; I told my assistant that I was not to be disturbed.”

  “Yes, Gate Master, we had to be. We need to get back to Earth, immediately, so we can prevent an outbreak of a disease that will kill a large part of our population.”

  “Certainly,” the alien said. “We can accommodate you with an unscheduled transition in two days.”

  “I’m grateful for your consideration, Gate Master, but we need to have one today. Immediately, in fact.”

  “I’m sorry, but that is not possible. We would nearly have to drain our batteries to do so, and that would leave us perilously unprepared if an emergency were to take place. That would be in direct contradiction of guild rules and would put my career in serious jeopardy if anyone were to find out.”

  “Gate Master, I’m sorry if I didn’t make myself clear, but there is an emergency taking place. If we don’t leave today, the Human race will be wiped out.”

  “Well, aren’t you the master of hyperbole,” the alien said with a chuckle. “Wiped out.” He chuckled again. “What could possibly destroy an entire race?”

  “A disease designed to do just that.”

  “Do you have any proof of this disease?”

  “No, we cleaned and sterilized all of our gear so we wouldn’t catch it.”

  “That is a good story,” the Gate Master said, “but it lacks the one thing I need to give you an emergency transition. Proof. Without proof, I’m sorry, but you will have to wait.”

  “The ship I want to take through the stargate has a scheduled transition tomorrow. How about I pay the fee for that transition now, in cash, and you log it in tomorrow, as scheduled. I will add, say, 10 percent so you can go buy yourself a drink and forget to file the transition until tomorrow?”

  “10 percent?” Frapotonal asked. “In cash?” Sansar nodded. “Hmm,” he said, “do you happen to have the 110,000 credits on you?”

  “What?” Sansar exclaimed, losing some of her control. “What do you mean 110,000? The fee for a Class Three stargate transition is 25,000 credits. Even an unscheduled one is only 50,000.”

  “Oh,” the alien said, “I’m terribly sorry; didn’t you get the word? Due to the greater than average number of transitions to and from this system over the last few months, it has been decided that the Cartography Guild will upgrade this stargate to Level Two status. The fee for an unscheduled transition from a Level Two stargate is—”

  “100,000 credits. Yes, this much I know. What I don’t understand is how you can begin charging the new price when you haven’t done anything to upgrade it. The systems are all the same as they were two months ago. The only thing you’ve changed is the name of it!”

  “But my dear colonel, how are we ever going to pay for the new equipment if we don’t begin charging the fees so we have the funds available to upgrade it?”

  Sansar frowned at him, but the alien just sat back and smiled. “Okay,” she finally said. “We both know you’re going to write in your books that we had a scheduled transition, and you received 25,000 credits for using it.”

  The alien smiled even larger, admitting nothing.

  “The bottom line is that you are going to overcharge me 75,000 credits for this transition—”

  “Your use of the stargate is non-scheduled.”

  “Okay, so you’re going to overcharge me 50,000 credits to use the stargate, and you still want a 10 percent tip on top of it?”

  “You were the one who suggested the 10 percent tip, not me,” the alien said. “In fact, that’s attempted bribery of a Cartography Guild member, and that comes with a pretty big fine, all on its own…”

  “Okay, I give in,” Sansar said. “I’ll pay the 110,000 credits for a transition.” She pulled out two 100,000-credit chits. Both had one-karat red diamonds in their centers that caught the light and sparkled with a ruby brilliance. The alien’s eyes widened, and he sat forward in his seat, his trunks reaching out to take the chits.

  “I’ll pay that fee…” Sansar replied, pulling them back, just out of reach, “but I want the five-day transition, not the seven.”

  “What?” Frapotonal asked. “You can’t have…I mean, there’s no such thing!”

  “Once again, we both know you’re lying. Your own words give you away. You distinctly said that I couldn’t have it, so we both know it exists. Even if you hadn’t confirmed it, I already knew it did, because someone used it to bring a diplomatic pouch to Earth. You had nothing to do with that, so giving away the secret isn’t your fault.”

  “I cannot give you that, or I would be kicked out of the guild.”

  “Well, here’s the deal. I need to get to Earth in five days. I’m willing to pay 175,000 credits to make it happen. I guarantee you, there is someone on this station who will do that for me, especially when I begin killing the people who won’t.”

  “Threats won’t work,” the Gate Master said. “There is only one person who knows the code, and that person is me. The process involves boosting you to a different hyperspace. We don’t understand how it works yet, and we haven’t figured out how to tune a ship’s jump nodes for it. So far, nearly one in five ships to try it has vanished, never to return again. Like normal hyperspace, if there’s a problem, we believe your ship will be lost with all hands.”

  “That’s a chance I’m willing to take,” Sansar said. “Just so I’m sure I understand you, what you’re saying is only you can get me there in five days; anyone else who does it will only get able to get me there in seven?”

  “That is correct.”

  “Then I guess your choice is pretty clear. You can take the 175,000 credits and give us a five-day transition, or I’ll have to kill you and take the seven-day transition. One way, we both win; the other way, we both lose. What’s it going to be?”

  The alien looked at her for a few moments, its two trunks twining and untwining. With a nod, it finally made up its mind. “Throw in another 100,000-credit chip, and I will give you the five-day transition.”

  “What if I don’t have it?”

  “Then I guess you’ll have to kill me. With over a quarter of a
million credits, I think I could slip away to a place where no one would ever find me.”

  Sansar sighed. “You drive a hard bargain, Gate Master,” she said, pulling out another 100,000-credit chip. She placed all three on the table and covered them with her hand. “Let me be very clear, though. If we get there, and you have given me a seven-day transition, I will be back, and there will be nowhere in this galaxy you’ll be able to hide from me. Do you understand me?”

  The alien’s trunks twitched back and forth, a sure sign of his tension. “Yes, I understand you,” he said.

  “Good. So we have a deal?”

  “We do,” the Gate Master said, unable to take his eyes off the chips on his desk.

  “Good,” Sansar said again. “We will be ready to leave within the hour. Please get the code ready.”

  “I will,” the alien said, reaching out with his trunks to pull the chips to his side of the desk.

  The two Humans left the Gate Master’s office and passed through the waiting room before Sansar stopped and fell backward against the bulkhead. She let go of the breath she’d been holding in a long sigh.

  “Well, now we know the answer to the question,” Mun said.

  “What question is that?” Sansar asked.

  “If anyone ever asks what it took to save the world, I can tell them, ‘300,000 credits.’”

  Sansar reached into a different pocket and pulled out a chip with an enormous, 5-karat red diamond in the middle and smiled. “I was prepared to go a million.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter 23

  MinSha Transport Craw’kal, Solar System

  “Transition complete, established in your home system,” the MinSha navigator announced. “Position confirmed.”

  “Get me communications with Golden Horde Headquarters, please,” Sansar Enkh said from the back of the bridge. She hadn’t usurped the Captain’s Chair in the center of the bridge from the MinSha captain; not only did she not want to be responsible for the workings of the ship, it was built for a MinSha and was very uncomfortable looking. She also didn’t want anyone walking behind her.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Corporal Bolormaa Enkh said from the communications station. “You’ve got it,” she added after a couple seconds.

  Major James Good’s voice came over the speakers, “Golden Horde Headquarters. Great to have you back, ma’am. That’s an interesting ride home you picked up.”

  “Yes,” Sansar replied, “we had some…difficulties, and we were forced to acquire alternate transportation.”

  “I assume you are referring to the fact our employers never showed up?”

  “Well, that’s certainly part of it. Corporal Enkh will be transmitting you an enciphered file detailing some of the issues we faced, and what is required now to recover from them. There is also a set of actions that must be taken immediately at GH HQ and transmissions that must be made immediately to all the other mercenary firms, starting with the other Horsemen.”

  “Sorry about our employers ma’am. I did everything I could to get them released. If you hadn’t returned, I would have tried to be a little more…creative.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You didn’t hear? I sent you a message.”

  “No, I didn’t. Perhaps it was caught up in transit and just hadn’t arrived yet.” Or perhaps the Information Guild had specifically kept it from arriving. What the hell was going on?

  “Right after you left, the government impounded their ship. Something about a customs violation, and fees they hadn’t paid. Our employers have been trying to get it released, but haven’t been successful. The local branch of Customs scheduled an inspection of the vessel, but it isn’t for another week. Something about a big backlog of inspections they are working through, but there are only two other ships at the starport.”

  So there were people in Earth’s government collaborating with whatever was going on. Wasn’t that just fucking great. Damn it.

  “I’ll be on the first shuttle down,” Sansar said. “I’m going to see the Secretary of the General Assembly of Earth on the way, and hopefully meet with the rest of the Horsemen if I can get it arranged, but I’ll be there as quickly as possible. Get working on the list of action items we’re sending. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

  The Golden Horde Headquarters, 20 Miles East of Tashkent, Uzbekistan, Earth

  “You wanted to see me, ma’am?” Lieutenant Sommerkorn asked as he entered Sansar’s office.

  “Yes, I did.” She’d only been back for a few minutes, but this was something that couldn’t wait. She looked at her chrono. “In six hours, we’re all going to begin dying. I want to know why you did that to us.”

  “Dying? What? What do you mean, ma’am? What’s going to happen?”

  “The new paint you got us,” Sansar said. “Do you know what’s in it?”

  “Uh…no, ma’am. Paint, I guess, plus some new additive that makes the paint a little more reflective so laser beams don’t damage our CASPers as much.”

  “Part of the reflectivity comes from the huge number of nanobots in it.” She looked at him expectantly. When he didn’t say anything, she asked, “Do you know what else those nanobots are supposed to do?”

  “I didn’t know there were nanobots in the paint, ma’am; I have no idea what they’re supposed to do.”

  “Right now, the nanobots are moving throughout our bodies, trying to get in the optimal positions from which to release their contents. In just under six hours, each of the nanobots are going to open up and release one of four separate toxins into our bloodstreams. Each of these are deadly on their own; there is a concentrated version of anthrax, a variant of spongiform encephalopathy, a concentrated type of hemorrhagic smallpox, and a mutated form of Ebola. If we only had a couple of nanites’ worth of the stuff, we might be able to fight it off. As it is, though, we have thousands of each of these nanites in our bodies, and all four are set to release today. Anyone who has been exposed to the paint is going to die, and die horribly over the next few weeks.”

  “Wha—what?” Sommerkorn asked, a look of desperation on his face. “How is this possible? How did the nanites get in there?”

  “They’ve been in there all along,” Sansar replied. “Ever since you brought the paint into the company’s spaces. Whoever you bought them from obviously didn’t like us much. Either that, or you intended to kill us all.”

  “No ma’am!” Sommerkorn squealed. “I didn’t do it! I didn’t know anything about it! Surely you don’t think I intentionally did that?”

  Sansar stared at him, her eyes dissecting him. She didn’t see any traces of deceit; he appeared to just have been a convenient rube in the process. “No,” Sansar said, finally. “I don’t think you did it intentionally. And, I suspect you’re infected just like everyone else, and that isn’t something I’d do to myself, even if I had a cure for all those diseases.” She shook her head. “There’s one thing I don’t understand. I’ve been over all the company paperwork for the last three years, and I can’t find this paint in the budget.”

  “That’s because it wasn’t,” Sommerkorn said, misery in his voice.

  “What do you mean, it wasn’t in the budget? How could we have gotten it if it wasn’t in the budget?”

  “I said I would help market it to the other companies, so they gave it to us for free.”

  “Wait, you helped market this to the other merc companies? On Earth?”

  Sommerkorn couldn’t meet her gaze. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, his voice barely able to be heard.

  “How many other companies got this finish from us?”

  “From us?” Sommerkorn asked. “Not many—”

  “Well that’s a relief,” Sansar said.

  Sommerkorn sniffed. “—but most of the rest of them bought it directly from the distributor once I gave them my recommendation for it. Based on what the distributor told me, I don’t think there are many companies that aren’t using it.”

  “You gave them your
recommendation?”

  “Well, they actually took my recommendation and kind of made it look like I was a representative of The Golden Horde. I think what sold most of the companies was the slogan, “Use What the Horsemen Use.”

  “Damn,” Sansar said. “They’re all going to die, and The Golden Horde is going to get the blame for it. Nearly every mercenary on Earth, and anyone who works closely with CASPers, is going to die off at once. Every single one! Do you know what you’ve done?”

  “I know!” Sommerkorn wailed. “I’ve killed them, just like I’ve killed all of us! I sprayed the stuff on several CASPers myself, just to show people how it worked. I’m dead, too!”

  Sansar didn’t say a word, but continued to glare at him.

  Finally, Sommerkorn got a hold on his emotions and stood straighter. He sniffed one last time, then his shoulders rotated back until he stood at a position of attention. “I’m sorry for my actions, ma’am, and for what I’ve done to both you and the company. You will have my resignation within the hour.”

  “Resignation?” Sansar yelled. “You expect to get off that easily? Hell no!”

  “Well, I know ma’am, it won’t be for long, since we’ll all be dead soon, but—”

  “I’m not planning on dying any time soon,” Sansar said, “and you’re not going to die anytime soon, either. You’ve got too much work to do undoing all of the damage you’ve done.”

  “But, if I’ve got all those diseases—”

  “You don’t have them yet,” Sansar said, “and you’re not going to get them. We figured out a process to stop the nanobots from activating. Also, if it’s caught at its very earliest stages, a common medkit can be used to treat the different diseases—but only if it’s used before the disease spreads throughout the body. We’ve already begun transmitting that to all of the other merc forces on the planet.”