Nathan stood up from his desk, pumping his fist in triumph. “R2D2 does it again!”
He pointed to the computer screen, where a three-dimensional image of a Pepsi container rotated. The image morphed to Coke before his eyes.
The next shipment was on its way through the core of the Federation, hidden in plain sight.
Ecaterina strolled in, catching him mid-celebration. “Are you ready?” she asked, eyeing him critically. “What is going on here?”
“I’d rather have Coke!” Nathan declared.
“No, you wouldn’t,” Ecaterina replied, confused. Nathan spun the monitor around and replayed the image.
“It’s something they developed on R2D2—a chip-controlled paint that arranges itself into images. This is a container vessel of Pepsi, but it’ll look like Coke in transit.” Nathan smiled broadly, showing his straight white teeth.
“I love it! A lifetime supply delivered uninterrupted…but what if someone drinks some?”
“Pretenders wouldn’t know the difference, only the true connoisseurs.”
“All this to sneak in some damn Pepsi?” Ecaterina cocked one hip and looked sideways at her husband. You know that BA lifted the ban on Pepsi and allocated all profits to support the Direct Action Branch, so why the feigned subterfuge?”
“Yes. I think the Queen is onto me.”
“She’s not here and there’s nothing to be onto!” Ecaterina crossed her arms.
Nathan tapped the side of his nose. “That damn woman has eyes and ears everywhere.”
Ecaterina rolled her eyes. “It’s time to go. There’s a play in the station theater— a real play—and you agreed to go!”
“Pepsi with a Coke label. It’s genius, but you know me. Subterfuge is my thing. I’m sorry. I did notice that you look great! Let me grab my…” He looked for something to take. “I guess I don’t need anything, do I?”
She shook her head.
“Did you see that? Pepsi, coming right in under their Coke-loving noses.”
“That could be misinterpreted,” Ecaterina replied.
“Yes, yes, of course,” Nathan conceded. “You’ll have your Pepsi, and you can drink it too.”
Nathan could get a Coke anytime he wanted, but there were advantages to Ecaterina thinking he was converting. And the market could use a little encouragement, to bump up the profits in both areas. He had to fund the next Direct Action Branch operation from Pepsi and other Bad Company sources, just until they could incorporate the miniaturized Etheric power supply. Then the cost of Direct Action Branch operations would be irrelevant.
He shut his computer down, walked around his desk, and offered his arm, then Nathan and Ecaterina strolled casually from his office.
CHAPTER TWO
Kaeden looked over the new suits. Only four again, but the Direct Action Branch had not been gone that long. To Kae, each mission was a lifetime. The colonel wanted powered, armored suits for everyone.
The value of the suits had been proven in the first missions. Unfortunately, there was no operational pause in which to improve their weaponry. There wouldn’t be any new Jean Dukes Specials, either. Those took far longer than a week to manufacture, and the process didn’t take place on Keeg Station.
Kae shook his head.
“What’s wrong?” Daniel asked with concern. He followed Kaeden’s eyes to the joints of one of the suits and hurried to it, looking for whatever defect Kae was seeing.
“Only four suits, that’s what’s wrong. These things are incredible. Make us feel invincible against every enemy, but the power ran out and that bit us on the dark planet. We weren’t engaged long enough for that to be a problem in the last op. And now we’re going to a place where we may find a power source for these things that is infinite. Can you imagine that?”
Daniel, who was the station’s logistics chief, leaned against the suit. “I can imagine that. If you bring the power supply back, the engineers here will adapt it and we’ll upgrade the suits when we get some time. Your deployment schedule is killer!”
Auburn appeared from the armory area of the logistics center and handed a pad to Daniel.
“That’s what we’ll need delivered to the War Axe.” Auburn tapped the screen. “Got any more rockets?”
“What you see is what we have. We made sure to stock everything that cleared production, so we’ll get your reloads moving.”
Auburn smirked when he looked at Kae.
“That bad, huh?” Kae asked.
“Yup. I think we may have had it better on Earth.”
Kae vigorously shook his head and pointed with both hands at the suits. “Look at these babies! We may not be maxed on our loadouts, but these things know no fear.”
“Just because you’ve been successful so far doesn’t mean the next enemy won’t jack you up.”
“That cuts me, brother.” Kae laughed. “I know what you’re saying. Just when I embrace my immortality someone will drop a nuke on our heads—but I won’t know I’m gone.”
“What nonsense are you spewing?” Marcie asked from the doorway.
“Nothing!” Kae replied quickly.
“Listen, Major, it’s not my job to put you into a hopeless situation. Trust me.”
Kae wrapped his arms around his wife’s waist. “Yes, Colonel, but there’s always something we don’t know. You wouldn’t throw us into the middle of the shit if you had a choice, or if you knew they had ballbusters like nukes.”
“And I’d be right there with you. Which suit is mine?” Marcie replied, looking over her husband’s shoulder as he nuzzled her neck.
“Nuuumpff,” he said.
She pushed him to arm’s length. “Say that again.”
“None of them,” he replied softly, looking into her eyes.
“Fine.” She turned to Daniel. “When will more suits be ready?”
“We’re churning out four a week, but we’ll be out of raw materials after the next four. Shipment due in a month, start again, four per week. You still need thirty-two or something like that, so say about four months.”
“How in the hell does that come to four months?” Marcie wondered, ticking the numbers off her fingers. Auburn was mumbling the math to himself.
“Raw material shipments are every other month, maybe even every third month. I prefer to under-promise and over-deliver, but judging by the expression on your faces four months isn’t what you wanted to hear.”
Daniel shifted uncomfortably, looking from one face to the next.
“We could have ten operations between now and then,” Kaeden remarked.
“Or you could pace yourself until you’re fully outfitted,” Daniel countered.
Kae, Marcie, and Auburn started to laugh.
“You don’t know Dad or the pack. The only reason we won’t have twenty ops is…” Kae stopped, pickled his expression, and turned to Marcie.
“There is no reason. Just travel, and since we can gate within a star’s gravity well, even that doesn’t take long. So ten, twenty-five—whatever it may be. You can guaran-damn-tee that we’re going to be busy,” Marcie explained.
“I’ll do my best,” Daniel told them. He couldn’t guarantee anything except that he would make calls and try to instill the sense of urgency into his supply chain.
“I’ll ask my dad to call Nathan and see if we can get a little extra horsepower on our side,” Kae said, as if reading Daniel’s mind.
After they looked at each other for a few moments they realized there was no more conversation left, so the warriors nodded politely and left.
“Dad is running the levels?” Kae asked once they were in the corridor.
“That’s what I hear. I think he’s got the pack with him, so you should be able to hear their grumbling before you see them.”
“Why weren’t we invited?” Kae liked the unit runs.
“Because we show up to work outs on time. The pack acts like they’re back in New York City.” Marcie listened, then looked up and down the corridor. Terr
y and the others would run through the one they were in at some point in their journey.
“How would you know what they were like back then?”
“I know this one!” Auburn interjected, waiting a few moments before delivering his punchline. “Because Char said they were acting that way.”
They chuckled together until interrupted by a distant voice.
“Would you keep up?” Terry Henry Walton bellowed from well down the corridor. The station was round, but didn’t need to rotate to maintain artificial gravity. The outer rings on each deck provided the longest routes.
Logistics was located between two docking bays for ease of transloading raw materials. The automated factory occupied the interior section of the deck. When major deliveries were being made, the corridor was closed as equipment moved back and forth from outer to inner areas. The next ship wasn’t due for a week, so the space was open and free for recreational use.
Or torture, which TH appeared to be inflicting. He had picked up his pace to the inhuman speeds that the enhanced could achieve and Char was right behind him, but Dokken fell back. No one else was in sight.
Marcie was waiting at an intersection and held out a hand to stop the train heading down the tracks. Terry reared back as he pulled up and breathed deeply and quickly. Char matched his pose, hands on her head to expand her lungs more fully and pull in the most air possible. Dokken trotted up, tongue lolling.
I think you are a horrible human, Dokken broadcast to everyone’s chip.
“What do you mean?” Terry replied defensively.
I don’t run like that. If you wanted to see how fast you could go, you should have left me out of it. I’m done with this exercise in fertility.
“Futility,” Terry corrected.
Exactly. Dokken limped away.
“Hang on, are you hurt?” Terry hurried to the dog’s side, checking his rear leg. Dokken yipped when Terry touched a certain place.
He picked Dokken up gingerly and started to run. “We’re going to the Pod-doc!” he yelled out the side of his mouth.
Dokken stuck his tongue out at the group of watchers, dog-smiling over Terry’s shoulder.
Char watched them go. “I think my husband just got played by a German Shepherd. Let’s follow in case there’s fireworks.”
Char took off after TH and the others fell in behind her.
***
Ted looked at Ankh, who returned his gaze. To someone who didn’t know them they would have appeared to be in a staring contest, but they weren’t.
They were linking through the artificial intelligence called “Plato” using the advanced chips that Ted had designed. So far only Ted and Ankh had had them surgically implanted in their brains.
Ted considered it liberating, as if his consciousness were expanding to fill the universe. He was in a place that challenged his mind all day, every day.
Ankh looked at problems in ways Ted would not have considered, and the insight from an alien mind made Ted better.
Ted appreciated Ankh, validation which he hadn’t received from his fellow Crenellians. They went about their business and did their jobs, staying physically as far as possible from their fellows. Basically, they lived within their computer systems. The small alien had the best of all worlds with the Bad Company. He had access to more powerful computers than he had imagined existed, and he had the freedom to explore both the real and virtual worlds.
He’d even drunk a beer.
Ted blinked and glared at Ankh. “Beer? You should be thinking about interstellar communication. How do we burst the signal for instantaneous transfer?”
The Crenellian’s big head bobbed about before he stood. “I apologize for my distraction. How long have we been at this?”
Ted glanced at the clock, but it was inconclusive. He needed more data. “What day is it?”
Plato said through the room’s speakers, “You’ve been at this for more than two days, and you are both malnourished and dehydrated. You need to drink, eat, and rest—in that order, please. I will shut down all research and development systems for the next ten hours.”
“You can’t do that. We have work to do!” Ted stood too and looked from screen to screen, but they were all dark. “Plato?”
Ankh reached over his head to stretch, the skin tightening across his ribs. “Yes. Food would be a good idea.”
Ted didn’t want to leave. He thought they were ready to cross the next threshold; to be that much closer to a solution regarding instantaneous interstellar communications. Infinite power took care of a number of problems, which meant they could focus elsewhere and keep knocking down the obstacles until there weren’t any more.
And he needed those communications so he and Felicity could talk with their kids to find out what was going on back on Earth. How were they holding up?
The others wanted to talk to those they had left had behind as well. The issue was always there, but no one discussed it. Ted was about to change that by opening a channel so everyone could stay in touch with their families.
After a meal and some sleep, of course.
***
Dokken came out of the Pod-doc much perkier than he had gone in. “Thank you,” Terry told the technician running the advanced device. Char stood behind TH, shaking her head and holding a finger to her lips.
The technician nodded. “You’re welcome.”
Char smiled and mouthed the words, “thank you.”
I feel like a new dog! Dokken exclaimed, twitching his eyebrows. No more runs.
“I thought you were a little more stalwart. No wonder you can’t catch Wenceslaus! Is it just me, or have you noticed that the cat is getting fat?”
Dokken huffed, coughed, and barked. Blasphemy! He has help, and you know it. That engineer is sheltering him, and I suspect Smedley Butler is in on it too.
“You like Clodagh, and you know it.”
Do not. She smells of cat. It makes me sneeze.
“I see. Maybe if you spent more time with her you’d block the Good King Wenceslaus. He would come to you.”
You may have a point, human. I will consider it once we are back aboard the War Axe.
“Until then, dog, what’s our next move?”
Dokken sat, rocked backwards, and used a back paw to scratch the side of his head. When he was finished he stood and shook himself, causing a small cloud of hair to rise into the air.
The technician sighed.
“We’ll get out of your hair,” Terry said, embracing the pun as he hurried from the medical space. Char and Dokken led the way out.
Once in the corridor, Dokken stopped and looked up at Terry Henry. Thank you for taking care of me, but I must be off now. See you around dinnertime?
“Where do you have to go?” Terry wondered aloud.
Places to go, people to see, Dokken replied as he trotted away.
“You know he wasn’t really injured,” Char said, watching the German Shepherd happily wagging his tail as he turned a corner and disappeared.
“I know. I told the technician to not do anything with the Pod-doc. He closed the door, turned on the lights for a minute, and opened the door. I was running poor Dokken into the ground, and carrying him here was my way of apologizing. He knows it and I know it, but as long as no one says it out loud we can hold on to our dignity.”
Char snorted as she draped her arms around her husband’s neck. “And what, if I may ask, is your definition of dignity?”
“‘The summer's flow'r is to the summer sweet, Though to itself it only live and die, But if that flow'r with base infection meet, The basest weed outbraves his dignity. For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds; Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds,’” Terry quoted from Shakespeare.
“After you made Felicity cry you probably don’t want to show your face on the promenade, my festering lily.” Char’s purple eyes sparkled and her hair perfectly framed her face, the silver streak trailing down one side.
“I am smitten,” TH admi
tted.
“How about a shower? You’re kind of rank.”
“I’m all kinds of colonel, aren’t I?”
Char pushed him away. “You promoted yourself once a hundred and thirty years ago. Your upward mobility sucks.”
“Rank it is, my love.” Terry took Char’s hand as they started walking toward the quarters area of the station. “And then a staff meeting to refine the planning for Benitus Seven.”
Char stopped. “You could have brought that up after dessert.”
“Are we going to lunch?”
Char rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Last one to our place has to clean up the bathroom.” She launched herself forward at werewolf speed, and it dawned on Terry what she’d been talking about.
Too worried about the next op to see what’s right in front of you, he thought as he accelerated, enjoying the wind of his passing blowing his hair back. He smiled as he sprinted to keep Char in sight. She ran effortlessly.
This is why we do what we do. The freedom to be happy, so people can play without worry about whether they’ll be alive tomorrow or not, whether that tear in the dimensional fabric will affect them. Monsters! It is our job to give the people the joy of ignorance. No one needs to know the danger, only that the Bad Company will protect them.
CHAPTER THREE
“We don’t know a whole lot, do we?” Marcie stated after the initial briefing.
Terry Henry Walton shook his head. “This meeting is about filling in the gaps in our knowledge. We’ve built a recon plan. Kaeden?”
“You bet, Pops,” Kae replied, standing up.
Terry stopped him. “‘Pops?’ Where the hell did you get that from?”
“Some old black and white movies. It sounded groovy.” Kae nodded to the others in the room—werewolves, weretigers, vampires, aliens, and those in Terry and Char’s family, enhanced by nanocytes and leaders all.
Terry turned to Char and whispered, “I’m not sure I like that.”
Char shushed him.
“Returning to the matter at hand…” Kae began. He was nearly one hundred and fifty years old, but embraced the youth that the nanocytes gave his body. Regardless of appearance, Kaeden was a skilled tactician and experienced in combat.
Price of Freedom: Age of Expansion - A Kurtherian Gambit Series (The Bad Company Book 3) Page 2
