Kurtherian Gambit Boxed Set Three: Books 15-21, Never Submit, Never Surrender, Forever Defend, Might Makes Right, Ahead Full, Capture Death, Life Goes On (Kurtherian Gambit Boxed Sets Book 3)

by Michael Anderle

  Thomas started nodding. “Are you thinking of the effort required to lift the three ocean liners?”

  “Something like that, sir,” Jeo admitted. “But also I’m thinking about the space stations.”

  This time E’kolorn started nodding and Admiral Thomas looked confused.

  “You are thinking about building additional manufacturing facilities near the space stations and then hiring the workers already on board?”

  “Yes,” Jeo admitted. “Do you think the people on the stations might go for that?”

  “If they don’t, or we need more, we can move them down to the planet.” E’kolorn’s voice seemed to get hard. “I’m not going to allow someone who won’t work where we need them to dictate to us where they live.”

  E’kolorn looked at Thomas. “Would the Empress have a problem with that?”

  Thomas snorted. “If anyone on the space stations gives her any lip, she will open the hatch to space, point outside, and tell them to walk back to the planet or choose the ship that is leaving.” He smiled. “Those would be their only two options.”

  E’kolorn nodded sharply. “Good.”

  Thomas kept a straight face when he heard E’kolorn mumble under his breath, “That is the kind of leadership I was born to support.”

  QBBS Meredith Reynolds, Jean Dukes R&D Lab

  The large black German Shepherd walked around the R&D lab, easily threading through the crowd to find his way to Jean’s office.

  Jean?

  Jean looked up to see Matrix standing there. “What’s up?”

  I’d like to understand why TOM is saying that the specifications for my latest armor are not adequate to allow me to wear it.

  Jean looked down at the results of the latest implosion device which used the smallest version of a black hole they could temporarily create. So far the math worked, but the reality was far from the math.

  She sighed. It wasn’t going to be built any time soon, and she needed a break anyway. “Walk with me.”

  Matrix followed Jean out of the lab and ignored the two Guards who immediately attached themselves as Jean headed towards the nearest park.

  “The problems with the armor,” Jean started explaining to the inquisitive dog, "are the potential issues of vacuum and space. Like if you get ejected during an attack on a ship you are on. The links that enable the armor to move with your body stretch and flex.”

  Jean started making motions with her arms. “The speed and direction your legs move will create a friction problem at that point, and they will hypothetically stick.” The four of them walked into the park. A few of the people pointed towards Matrix, who ignored the attention.

  He really didn’t like the popularity he inspired. If he could just sit in an office and review new information, he might be a truly happy dog. However, nanocytes or no nanocytes, he did need to exercise.

  “This is as much for me as it is for you,” Jean admitted as she pulled out a small yellow ball. “I need the exercise as well.”

  I didn’t think you read minds, he asked her.

  “I don’t, but you have bent my ear enough for me to know playing any version of fetch isn’t your idea of a great time.”

  True, but I get it. Fire away, he told her, then ran as she threw the first pitch. Her method was to throw it high into the air, allowing Matrix a moment to try and figure out the apogee and guess where the ball would land. Matrix scored himself.

  Nineteen out of twenty.

  He figured the light source messed up his calculations. While he could have intuited where the ball would go, that wasn’t what he wanted to accomplish. He tried instead to calculate the ball’s angle and velocity as it left Jean’s hand and determine the height and distance it would travel. Then he would convert the distance into running strides and project from where he was. He allowed himself to be off by one stride to either side of his calculation.

  It wasn’t perfection, but perhaps he would get closer if they went through another twenty tosses.

  An hour later Jean had to beg off, as her arm was starting to hurt.

  Leath, the Gods' Chambers

  Torik was deep in thought as he wandered into the general meeting rooms for the Seven. His ruminations were interrupted when a female of his clan greeted him. He looked up to see her working at their central table.

  “Torik, what has you so deep in concentration?”

  He nodded a greeting. In centuries past they had dropped their Kurtherian names to allow those they manipulated to more properly address them. “Var’ence.” He joined her at the table, slipping into the chair next to her and turning his body in her direction.

  “I am having trouble calculating the correct options related to the new challenges the Leath are encountering with the Karillians. Their efforts to overtake the planet have been rebuffed multiple times.”

  Var’ence pondered. “I imagine it is due to a problem in the calculations.” She put up a hand, “Not with your calculations, but some lack of information. What don’t we know about these new aliens?”

  He temporized. “I’ve used all variables for aliens inside and outside the range of what we have encountered before.” With a thought he sent his efforts to Var’ence, whose eyes opened when she realized the scope of the effort Torik had undertaken so far.

  The two sat quietly for a moment and digested the data before Var’ence offered, “Why don’t we get more information, so the calculations can be completed?” She looked at him. “Presuming that there is something missing?”

  It took a moment for the beauty of the probabilities to spread through Torik’s mind. The colors created as the new options interlaced brought a smile to his face. “Yes, let us do that.”

  4

  QBBS Meredith Reynolds, Prime Guardian’s Office

  Peter closed down the screens on his tablet. “Meredith?” he asked as he locked his desk. He made the effort to physically lock his desk simply so Meredith would know that he didn’t want anyone going through it.

  That way if someone did, she would notify him immediately.

  “Yes, Peter?”

  “Can you tell me where Gyada is at the moment?” he requested as he stood and reached for the ceiling, stretching his back. He could feel his spine crack in a couple of places. Perhaps that last fall he had taken during his workout with Tim had required a bit of a cool-down and recovery, which he hadn’t done.

  Teach him to walk away as if being slammed to the floor from six feet in the air was something to shrug off.

  “She is presently walking toward a bar she enjoys.”

  “All Guns Blazing?” Peter asked, trying to remember if he had seen her in that place.

  “No, she is heading towards NS Squared.”

  Peter thought about that for a moment. He knew he had been there, but was trying to remember with...ah!

  “Pearl’s place? The one Tabitha likes to go to?”

  “The same,” Meredith answered.

  Peter closed his office door for privacy and walked over to his locker. Dropping his military fatigues, he pulled out a set of civilian clothes—some jeans and a large cotton shirt with grey, green and black lines running through it. His black belt and some black leather shoes completed the outfit.

  Taking a quick glance in the mirror, he winked at himself before placing his military clothing into the locker and closing it and heading out of the Guardians’ operations wing.

  If he was heading for Never Submit-Never Surrender, he wanted to fit in. He knew Gyada wouldn’t be there in anything but blue-collar clothes.

  It was a bar many of the Guards and Guardians visited from time to time. You didn’t need to have your uniform on for the people there to know you were family.

  The family of doers, not talkers.

  Whether it was cops, firemen, engineers, military or just those who had put in the time and honored the ones who had made it possible, NS Squared was the place you went when you needed a beer.

  And a chance to talk to Pearl.r />
  Gyada strode along the hallway, keeping to herself. She had signed onto the Meredith Reynolds as a way to distance herself from her children—those who had been killed so long ago by that madman in Russia and the others she had taken on her team.

  Bethany Anne had received her gratefully and treated her like an aunt. Older and wiser in some ways, but mostly Bethany Anne had been worried about Gyada’s fragile emotional state.

  Queen at the time, Bethany Anne had simply looked into Gyada’s eyes and told her, “All things will heal in time. You will know when you are ready. Until then, teach, train and keep yourself in shape. Because,” the Queen’s eyes went from soft to hard, “if I have to, I’ll take those who are broken-in-heart and require their service. So you will need to be ready if it happens.”

  At this moment, Gyada wondered for what had to be the hundredth time if the threat in the Queen’s voice had been real.

  Would Bethany Anne make her fight? She had heard about the Leath, and she was familiar with the battles.

  But she had not been asked to join.

  Even now, months later, she knew about the Guardians and their efforts to ramp up enrollment and bring more teams on board.

  And still she had not been asked.

  Was she too damaged to belong to a family again? Did Bethany Anne mean for her to volunteer?

  Would she volunteer, or did she just want to continue this lonely existence and maybe learn another trade—one that didn’t require her to kill.

  Pearl nodded at her when she saw who had come into the bar. The place was smaller, with a long row of seats on the left. The backs of the seats "could cover John Grimes’s head" Tabitha had told her one time.

  Gyada smiled at the memory. The feisty Ranger had been introduced to her at a meeting with Bethany Anne over a year ago. It had taken Tabitha about three sentences to place who Gyada was and what she was suffering from, and then the two of them left by a side door.

  “Won’t the Empress be upset?” Gyada had asked.

  “She’s cool with it,” Tabitha answered as the two passed the Guards in the back hallway.

  “How would you know?” Gyada had looked behind them, trying to remember if she had noticed the two of them talking.

  “Mental communication,” Tabitha admitted, tapping her head. “I asked her if I could take you to Pearl’s and she told me Pearl’s was more important than the meeting.”

  “What is Pearl’s?”

  “It’s a bar,” Tabitha answered. The two of them took a right down another hall, heading towards the tram. “We need to go inward about a kilometer and up three levels.”

  Gyada murmured, “That’s not close.”

  Tabitha turned to look at her. “Did you think it would be?”

  Gyada stepped onto the tram with Tabitha. Wearing her official Ranger outfit, which was, Gyada thought, whatever made her happy, Tabitha cut a dashing figure. “I thought it would be back on the outer docks.”

  “Oh, no.” Tabitha shook her head, “This place is strictly for Inner Etheric citizens. Basically, you have to be able to get inside the Meredith Reynolds to get there.”

  Memories aside, Pearl was waiting for an order as Gyada slid into her customary table at the back. “One on tap,” she told Pearl. “Who’s on the grill?”

  “Sean,” Pearl answered, reaching under the bar. “I got an order in from Yelena’s brewery, you want pale or dark?”

  Gyada eyed Pearl, who chuckled and put the pale ale back. Coming around the bar, she placed a cold glass and the bottled dark beer on the table. Gyada appreciated that the bottles were recyclable. No extra trash up in space.

  “Why does Yelena sell to you if her guy owns All Guns Blazing?” Gyada wondered.

  Pearl waved a hand. “Distribution and production is higher than even Bobcat’s group can handle. Plus,” Pearl smiled, “Bobcat is always out to make a buck. I understand from Yelena that the two of them are betting William and Marcus that they can sell more beer than the other two for a year."

  “Couldn’t you cheat?” Gyada asked, pouring a bit of the beer into the cold glass. Most dark-beer drinkers would give Gyada grief for drinking it cold. “Thanks for allowing my beer weirdness into NS.”

  Pearl shrugged, “If you want to drink a beer extra-cold, that is your prerogative. You don’t have to abide by the rules of a planet so far away I can’t even put enough zeros at the end of a number to represent the distance.”

  “Still.” Gyada relaxed. Being around Pearl was, she imagined, the closest she would get to having a friend who accepted her for who she was. Celebrating the good things, and helping her through the bad.

  Gyada heard the door chime a moment before Pearl’s eyes flicked up to see who was coming in. The look on Pearl’s face let Gyada know that she wasn’t expecting whoever it was. Whether it was due to not knowing the person…

  Gyada had to slide out of her seat and turn to look. The suspense was killing her.

  “Peter?” Gyada’s question was left in the air as Peter turned towards her voice to see his quarry’s face peeking around the corner of the booth’s partition.

  “Ah.” He smiled, walking towards her.

  “My, oh my.” Pearl whistled under her breath. “Mr. Hot Stuff is looking for you.”

  Gyada whipped her face back to Pearl. “I’m old enough to be his umpteenth grandmother!”

  Pearl winked at her. “And your point?” she asked as she slid out of the booth.

  “What are you having, son?” Gyada heard her ask Peter.

  “Not sure I’m staying. I need to speak with Gyada,” he answered. Gyada watched as Peter came into view, and was surprised.

  He was in casual clothes.

  “I’d say fancy meeting you here,” Peter smiled at Gyada, “but since I had Meredith track you down, it would be kinda pointless.” He pursed his lips. “And inaccurate.”

  Gyada ignored Pearl’s motion from behind the bar as she focused on the Empress’ top Guardian. The captain.

  She kept her mouth shut.

  “Ok,” Peter announced as he laid both hands on the table, “I will make this quick and to the point.” He looked her in the eye.

  “Gyada, I need you.”

  There was a snort from the bar, and Gyada almost turned to give Pearl an evil glare.

  Instead, she picked up her glass and before taking a sip, asked, “Would you care to clarify that?”

  Peter’s eyes narrowed before they rolled as he realized how she might have taken the comment. “If I was going to come on to you, be very assured I would offer a certain amount of wining and dining.” He looked at her drink. “Or perhaps a little beer and fear.” He shrugged, “You can never tell the needs of a lady.”

  Gyada almost snorted the drink out of her nose, and she started coughing as she choked a bit. Too bad she’d taken that sip. Peter chuckled but handed her the rag Pearl had tossed him. Gyada wheezed a few more times into the towel.

  “Wow,” she rasped, “You know how to really choke a woman up.”

  “It’s a gift,” he shrugged, his mischievous eyes sparkling, “or a curse.

  Gyada set the towel down on the bench next to her. “Ok, since we aren’t talking wine and dine or beer and fear in the service of Venus…” When she looked up she could tell she had lost Peter with her comment about Venus.

  “Give someone a green gown?” she asked. Peter shook his head. “Horizontal refreshment?”

  Peter smiled broadly and pointed at her. “Horizontal mambo, got it!” His smile disappeared as he asked, “Service of Venus?”

  “Back in the thirteen hundreds people talked about Venus as the Goddess of Love.”

  “And green gown?” he asked. “I could have figured out Venus, given enough time. However, I got nothing for green gown.”

  Gyada nodded her understanding. “That is one activity that can’t be accomplished in outer space. When you laid with a woman on a green patch of ground—grass or clover or something— you got green stains on her cloth
ing.”

  “Which were dresses back then, got it.” He nodded. “And I apologize. I wasn’t proposing a romp with Willy the One-eyed Wonder Worm.”

  Gyada snickered.

  Peter smirked. “It really is a gift.”

  Pearl set a beer on the table, “Bullshit. I’ve seen the company you keep. Hell, I remember a challenge about all the ways you could say sex without using fuck. You were in the top three spots.”

  Gyada looked at Pearl. “Who won?”

  “Well, about that,” Peter answered, “it was Bethany Anne.”

  “The Empress?” she asked, looking at the two of them.

  “Oh, yeah.” Pearl nodded. She turned to Peter, “Move over, Scrumptious, and give a very slightly older lady some room to park it.”

  “Don’t let her tease you!” a male voice called from one of the front booths.

  Pearl leaned into the aisle to yell back. “J.D., if you don’t keep your yap shut, I won’t be cooking for you when we get home.”

  There was a squeak beside Pearl, then Peter asked, “That was your husband?”

  Pearl looked at Peter. “Yes, of course. We are married. Don’t you fret, I’m harmless.”

  There was more cackling and hands-slapping-on-wood noises coming from the front of the bar.

  Pearl leaned back into the aisle. “Keep it up and I’ll put cilantro in the food.” She waited a second to confirm the lack of commotion from up front.

  Pearl turned back to Gyada and Peter, then inclined toward them over the table and eyed them both as she whispered, “Can’t get cilantro any more, but he doesn’t know that.”

  “Uh,” Peter told her, “if you really, really need it, I can get you a pinch.”

  “Oh?” She leaned back and looked Peter up and down. “How?”

  “I have…sources,” Peter admitted. “It’s a special project, but if you wanted a very small amount, just enough to spice something,” Peter nodded up the aisle, “I’m pretty sure I could make it happen.”