Witch Of The Federation III (Federal Histories Book 3)

by Michael Anderle

  The sound of the doors locking echoed through the gym.

  “Docherty. Get ʼem lined up. Harrison, Anders, Spizoni—weapons check.”

  “Hold it right there,” someone protested. “How do we know you aren’t in on it”

  There was only one reply to that, and Docherty had it. He took the two steps needed to close the distance between him and guy who had asked the question and slugged him.

  “Does anyone else want to accuse us of treachery?” He glowered at them.

  “Why not?” someone else challenged. “You’re Marines, too.”

  “We’re not traitors,” he retorted and scanned the crowd for the speaker.

  He couldn’t find them and no one gave them away, so he stopped.

  “Now, line up.”

  This time, the crowd complied. The cats, however, remained persistent. Zeekat had taken to alternating swats with bouncing on the shield, and Bumblebee attempted to chew his way through the magic. Stephanie walked over and looked at the Marine.

  “Vishlog, get these two troublemakers out of the way,” she ordered and the Dreth looked at her.

  In silence, he looked at the cats and raised one eyebrow before he caught the look on her face.

  “Fine,” he said with a sigh, and grasped both cats by their scruffs and hauled them away.

  They screeched in protest but he simply tightened his grip and ignored their struggles.

  “I will find you treats,” he whispered as Bee tried to wriggle out of his grasp.

  “Treats,” he repeated as Zee attempted to twist and bite him.

  “Treats,” he added, dragged them out of Stephanie’s way, and stopped a few yards away from the fallen Marine. Both cats stilled in his hands. “There’s my good kitties.”

  The good kitties glowered at him and their looks promising delayed destruction and vengeance.

  Stephanie directed a tendril of magic to lift the would-be assassin’s weapon from the floor and place it at her feet.

  “Marines!” she called and the room fell silent. She put her foot on the gun and continued, “We have a traitor. I need to have the Meligornians go through his mind, so let’s make sure he can’t kill himself until that happens.”

  She dropped the shield and Brenden and Avery pounced.

  Bumblebee growled and Vishlog stroked him. “I know,” the Dreth told him. “I want to kill him, too.”

  Zeekat bunted his elbow, and he stroked the black-and-white cat as well. “I know, boy.”

  “You’ll all die,” the Marine shouted as the boys pulled him to his feet. “You’ll die and your families will die, too.”

  He now had everyone’s attention, and several of the Marines shifted uncomfortably.

  “They will take our world and grind it to rubble. Every single person you’ve ever loved will be consumed. They’ll die screaming and you’ll have to watch and there won’t be a damned thing you can—”

  Docherty strode over and punched him to knock him unconscious. He caught her look and shook his head sheepishly. “That kind of shit gets old…ma’am.”

  Brenden rolled his eyes and helped Avery carry the assassin’s limp form to the door. Tomek saw where they were going and spoke. “Ebony, unlock.”

  “Certainly, Sergeant.”

  The doors released as the men reached them and they started through. Tomek looked for Docherty. “Show them the way,” he ordered. “You know it well enough.”

  “That’s a low blow, Sarge,” he retorted, but he went.

  Brenden glanced at the Marine as he came alongside. “Brig’s this way,” Docherty explained.

  Behind them, Stephanie surveyed the crowd in the gym and stopped as her gaze came to rest on the cats. Vishlog stopped stroking and they bounded over to her to wind around her legs and purr. The big Dreth followed.

  “I think these guys need a break,” she told him and walked out of the gym, the Dreth at her side.

  Lars went to follow but was stopped by Sartre.

  “What did you mean?” the captain asked.

  He gave him a puzzled look.

  “When you said, ‘I told you so,’” he explained. “What did you mean by that?”

  The guard’s face cleared and he smiled. “I told her that the enemy had to try to kill her, and that included on her own ship. I told her they’d somehow get a traitor on board and she needed to take precautions.”

  “And?” he pressed as Moser came to stand alongside him.

  “She bitched about it all the way to the ship, but we had Frog take her place and walk around.”

  Moser shot him a disbelieving look. “Frog volunteered to get shot at?”

  Lars’s smile turned into a grin. “Who said he volunteered? I decided he already had all that experience from the VIP scenario we ran and he might as well use it.”

  The two men chuckled.

  “How are things on Earth?” Sartre asked. “It’s been a while since I set foot on it.”

  “Well, the press is what they’ve always been and the politics have been hell, but things are basically much like usual. Nothing exciting’s happening.”

  “Not yet, anyway,” Sartre added.

  “That’s why we’re out here,” he told him and glanced the way Steph had gone. “I’d better catch up. Nice seeing you, again.”

  Lars didn’t catch up with Stephanie until after she’d made it to her suite. He knocked but didn’t wait for an invitation and stepped through the door and into an environment as different from the gym as Mars was to Mercury.

  “Steph?” he called and glanced around the suite.

  It was bigger than what he’d come to expect of ship-board accommodations and far more luxurious. He stood in a tiny living room complete with a viewscreen, bookcase, and entertainment unit set into the wall, with a lounge suite and coffee table before it.

  “Uh…Steph?” he called and noted the two doors leading off from either side.

  When she didn’t immediately reply, he crossed to the one on the right and opened it.

  “Nope,” he muttered and scanned the small kitchenette-dining area beyond. There was another viewscreen set up on the wall, and a food fabricator that would mean she could skip the mess if she wanted personal space.

  All in all, it was well-appointed, but it wasn’t what he was looking for. He tried again. “Steph?”

  “In here,” she called, and he headed to the other door.

  She’d changed back into the team’s uniform and was brushing her hair. “Did you bring Frog?”

  “No. Should I have?”

  “I should probably do something about the bruising. That slug hit hard.”

  Lars smirked. “I’ll call him in. He’s bitched since he got back.”

  Stephanie grimaced. “I thought he might have. I should have seen to it before I left, but I wanted to get out of there.”

  “Someone had tried to kill you,” he told her. “That’s kinda understandable. How are you holding up?”

  She drew a shaky breath. “I’m only glad he didn’t go for the head.”

  He paled. “Yeah, we caught a break there. I’ll call the rest of the team in. We need to talk about what we’ll do next.”

  “We do.” Steph gave him a smile and gestured to the door. They headed into the lounge at the same moment that Frog arrived.

  “You rang?” he asked and looked at the team leader.

  “The boss wants to see you,” he told him, his face serious.

  The guard gave Stephanie an apprehensive look. He swallowed, clearly trying to think of what he might have done to piss her off. “Uh, yes, Steph?”

  She glared at him. “Don’t you ‘yes, Steph’ me. Get your ass over here where I can see you.”

  He did as she asked but cast an anxious look at the other man. She forced herself to keep a stern look on her face as she poked at his shirt. “Get it off.”

  Her finger impacted the bruised flesh beneath and he yelped. The look he shot at Lars was close to panic and he backed up a step. “
I’m sorry, okay? Whatever it was I did I didn’t mean to.”

  Stephanie couldn’t keep the masquerade up. She grinned. “You haven’t done anything, Frog, but I can’t see how much healing I need to do if you don’t let me look.”

  The relief that crossed his face was comical. It was followed by a look of sheer annoyance when the other man chuckled. “That was uncalled for.”

  She didn’t reply, too busy focusing her magic on the bruising that surrounded the area that had been protected by his body armor. He flinched when an aura of blue surrounded it, and when it sank through the skin, he relaxed.

  The bruising gradually receded and she guided the magic carefully over the area until it was clear. “There you go,” she told him when she was done.

  “Thanks, Steph. I appreciate it.”

  “I didn’t do it for you,” she replied, smiling. “I did it so the rest of the guys wouldn’t have to listen to you bitch about your pain.”

  He rolled his eyes and glanced at Lars. “Thanks a lot, bro.”

  “Don’t you bro, me. You were whining like a little kid.”

  “I was not!”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I was whining like a big kid, I’ll have you know.”

  “Sure, Frog. Whatever you say, okay?” he replied as the other guys arrived.

  Brendan gave an exasperated sigh. “Is he still going on?”

  “No.” Frog managed to sound offended. “We were discussing if there were others aboard the ship.”

  “Sure you were. You’re not gonna tell me you’re too chicken to play at being Steph, again, are you?”

  “No. I was gonna ask if she thought we’d got them all.”

  She shook her head. “I’m not the one to ask. If I’d had my way, I’d have been shot. You’re gonna have to check with Lars on this one. He’s the one who thought of it, in the first place.”

  “There’s no way to know,” Lars told them.

  “Yeah?” Frog asked. “Well, I’d hate us to run the engines and find out an engineer has screwed us.”

  Stephanie was about to tell him that Cameron ran too tight a section for that to have any chance of happening, but she didn’t. As far as she could tell, the Marines ran an equally tight ship and they’d missed one.

  “We need to work out a way to tell if someone’s going to make another attempt,” she said.

  “Well, you’re the Witch,” Frog said.

  “Not helping, Frog. So not helping.”

  “Well, can’t you use your magic to read minds? You know, like the Meligornians do?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

  “Why don’t you give it a try?”

  Her initial response was to open her mouth to tell him that it was impossible, but she decided he might have a point. “Give me a minute.”

  At first, she worked through the magic and tried to get it to find her the thoughts in Frog’s head and bring them to her, but that didn’t work. Next, she tried to see inside his head, but that didn’t work either. She considered it a little more but couldn’t find a clue on how to start.

  With a sigh, she looked at him. “Well, either you don’t have any thoughts or I can’t access them.”

  He looked shocked, then outraged, and finally, relieved—then he asked. “But why me?”

  “Well, it was your idea.”

  “Hmmph. That’s the last time I make a suggestion around here.”

  “Don’t I wish,” Brendan muttered.

  “Well, what about making something?” Avery suggested.

  “Like what?” Steph asked.

  “Oh, I don’t know, but there has to be a way to see if someone’s going to do something crazy—”

  “You mean something that can read their intent?” Lars asked.

  “Yeah,” he agreed. “Something like that.”

  “So, it would change color if…what?”

  “Well, it could always go red if they didn’t like you.”

  “Just because they don’t like me doesn’t mean they’ll kill me.”

  “Yeah, it probably does,” the team leader disagreed. “Or it means they won’t do their best for you because they don’t like you. Either way, we don’t want them on the ship.”

  “Fair enough,” Stephanie said, “and I suppose we can always get the Meligornians to look inside their minds and find out why they don’t like me and if they’re planning on doing something about it.”

  “Exactly.” He sounded much happier with this idea.

  “So, like a mood ring, then,” Stephanie concluded, and the guys stared at her.

  “When did you ever hear about mood rings?” Brenden was curious.

  She blushed. “Well, Todd mentioned them once.”

  “And I suppose this was during your non-dating period, right?” Frog wanted to know.

  Her face got hotter. “Well, yeah.”

  Brenden whistled. “Man, girl. You missed all the clues.”

  “Oh, for goodness’ sake. Shut. Up. When will you guys give that a rest?”

  Frog snickered. “Probably never.”

  “Well.” Stephanie cleared her throat. “It’s not like we have any crystals around here, so I’ll have to try something else. It needs to be something they can touch, and I don’t want to make millions of them so it’ll have to be something durable and portable.”

  Frog looked around. “Something metal, then.”

  “Don’t be silly, Frog,” Avery scolded. “Metal doesn’t change color.”

  “No, but we could make it heat up,” she replied, thinking out loud. “We could work out how much they hated me by how hot the metal got.”

  “And if they really hated you, they wouldn’t be able to hide it,” Frog added.

  “How do you figure that, Frog?” Lars wanted to know.

  “Did you ever hold a hot potato?”

  “Point taken. I like it.” The team leader looked at her. “Can you do that?”

  “Do you have a piece of metal we can work on?”

  It took the boys the better part of two hours to find a suitable piece of metal. She used that time to research how mood rings worked and then to try to devise a way to use the magic to reflect it. She found a fork in the kitchenette and used that to practice on.

  It was far more difficult than she’d thought it would be, and she’d barely got the fork to change temperature when the team returned. Lars came through the door as she dropped the utensil onto the dining table.

  “Sonuvabitch!”

  “What?” He looked around the small room to find the cause of her discomfort.

  “Nothing. I was trying the magic.” She shook her hand. “I think I can make it work.”

  “Uh-huh. And what did you use to test it?”

  “Promise not to laugh.” Stephanie picked up a piece of paper and handed it to him.

  Curious, he took it and glanced down. “What is that meant to be?”

  “It’s one of the Nihilism,” she told him and he turned the paper several different ways before he finally nodded.

  “I can see it, now,” he said and held out his hand. “Give me the fork.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Frog asked as he entered.

  “The magic fork,” Lars told him.

  “Oh, because that makes it so much better—”

  “To test Stephanie’s magic, you shit.”

  “Sure, boss. Whatever you say.”

  Stephanie handed him the fork. “Now what?”

  “Now show me the picture because I hate those guys, too.”

  She did as he asked and watched him tilt the paper.

  “Yeah, those sonsofbitches want to destroy my world,” he muttered aloud and held the fork as he looked at the picture, “so I—goddammit!”

  The utensil clattered to the table for the second time.

  “So, it works, then?” She grinned at him.

  “Yeah, it works,” Lars answered ruefully and shook his hand while he crossed to the kitchen sink and ran the co
ld tap. “Do you want to magic that into what Frog found in the armory?”

  “Sure,” she said.

  The metal rod they’d chosen was about three inches in diameter and silver in color.

  “What were they using this for?”

  “I’m not sure, but they didn’t really want to give it up. I think I promised them coffee.”

  Stephanie screwed her face up. “You couldn’t think of anything else?”

  “I didn’t want to try chocolate.”

  Her face cleared. “Oh, and a good thing too because that’s one promise you’d have definitely broken.”

  “We’re only trying to keep you safe, Steph.”

  “Yeah, but I draw the line at chocolate.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “Coffee, too, now that I think about it,” she added. “Don’t you go giving any more away.”

  Lars sighed. “Fair enough. How about you try doing to that metal rod whatever it was you did to the fork?”

  Frog snickered and he rolled his eyes. “Hand it over, little man.”

  His teammate complied and she concentrated her focus on directing the magic to do the same thing to the rod as she’d done to the fork.

  “There,” she said and handed it to Lars when she’d finished. “Now, all we have to do is test it.”

  She looked around and Frog backed several steps.

  “What’s the matter, Frog?” She pursed her lips and eyed him thoughtfully. “You’re not scared, are you?”

  “No…”

  “So you won’t mind being the first one to check this out for us, will you?”

  “I thought you and Lars had already decided it would work.”

  “Yeah, well, we want to be sure.”

  He sighed. “Fine.” He came forward and picked the metal bar up. “Do you want me to look at the picture as well?”

  “Sure,” she answered. “Let’s see if you hate those aliens like the rest of us.”

  The guard looked at the picture on the paper and his face paled. “That’s one of the aliens?”

  “Yup,” she told him.

  “So, is the metal bar supposed to be getting cold?”

  “Cold?”

  “Yeah, like an icicle.”

  “So, you don’t hate the aliens?”

  “Hate them? I’m more terrified of them than anything else.”