“Take this ship. We will take the secondary. It is time to power up the K’galeth.” She pushed her chair back. “Let us know your plans, and we will come back to you. We will work on the ship as you set your trap. Phraim-’Eh will ascend,” she finished, and the other five replied in kind.
“Phraim-’Eh will ascend!”
17
Planet Devon, Lerr’ek’s offices
The Zhyn looked at his three visitors. “There is not much I can tell you about the Mistress’ present location.”
There were five present in his office. Lerr’ek noticed the one called Peter had squared off against Nock, both keeping each other front and center.
He sighed. “Nock?” The Krenlock turned, still keeping two of his eyes on Peter. “These are the Mistress’ people. I have spoken with Stephen to confirm their bona fides.”
“They are dangerous,” Nock said slowly and carefully.
“I imagine they are deadly,” Lerr’ek agreed. “However, so is my Mistress.” He turned to the dark-haired human. “Barnabas, do you agree to hold me safe so long as I do nothing to your people?”
“Of course,” Barnabas agreed. “I am here for information related to Baba Yaga and what she has done here on this planet. We are going to have to answer to the Empress—”
“Why?” Lerr’ek asked. He put up a hand. “Wait, I must call Stephen back.”
Barnabas turned and raised an eyebrow to Tabitha, who surreptitiously put a finger to her head and tapped it, raising an eyebrow back.
“Nock,” Lerr’ek called, “I will need you to step out for privacy.”
Nock looked reluctant to move.
Peter spoke up. “I’ll go with you,” he told the creature. “You are fucking fascinating,” Peter told him as he walked toward the office door, Nock following him. “You are a walking badass dinosaur guard.” He turned the knob and opened the door, looking over his shoulder to confirm Nock was following him. “Do your people ever serve in the military?” he asked as the door shut behind them.
Lerr’ek continued once the door had shut. “I am informed by Stephen you both know that the Empress and the Witch are the same person?”
“Yes,” Barnabas answered, “but I am surprised you know this.”
“I know only what the Mistress tells me,” Lerr’ek answered. “She is working to clean up Devon.”
Tabitha spoke up. “Wait, the Empress or Baba Yaga?”
“Did we not just say they are the same person?” Lerr’ek asked.
“Some people question if Baba Yaga is doing things the Empress would not,” Barnabas answered.
“Once again, I fail to see the difference. They are the same person.”
“Perhaps we have a Zhyn misunderstanding,” Barnabas said. “Humans minds have the ability to parse themselves and work with a subset. When this happens, it is feasible one will receive a different set of results than if one had the entire brain functioning as a whole.”
Lerr’ek considered what Barnabas was saying. “You believe that only part of the Empress’ brain is in control?”
“We don’t know,” Barnabas answered. “We have recent proof that she might not be as out of control as we fear.”
“She isn’t,” Tabitha muttered. “I know it.”
“Did she kill innocents here?” Barnabas asked, “and what was she trying to accomplish?”
“She is changing the political makeup of the planet,” Lerr’ek answered. “There are a lot of politically powerful people who have used their position of influence and status to become independently wealthy at the expense of those they govern.”
“Well,” Tabitha said, “they’re fucked.”
“Indeed.” Barnabas thought back to his own experience back on Earth, when Bethany Anne constantly argued with him about justice and punishment.
He would suggest a lesser penalty, but she would always ask for death.
It took a while for him to realize she was not as bloodthirsty as he had feared. She had been playing him the whole time.
He rubbed his jaw and asked, “What did she do?”
“Killed all the completely corrupt and any who ignored her warnings to stand aside, and shipped off a couple dozen to another world, telling them not to come back.”
Tabitha was surprised. “Really?”
“Or they would die,” he smiled, his Zhyn mouth full of teeth.
Tabitha pulled a chair from a table next to Barnabas, and the squeeeeechhh made him wince. She sat down and looked at him. “That sounds like Bethany Anne, not Baba Yaga.”
“She also scared the shit out of a complete bar full of patrons when she wanted a Coke, and put four in the hospital for more than a night. One died.”
Barnabas looked at Tabitha, raising an eyebrow. “For a Coke?”
Tabitha chewed on her lip. “The one who died, was he a criminal?”
“Not at the time, but his spouse came in later and spit on his dead body.”
Tabitha turned back to Barnabas. “Bet there’s a story there,” she said, tapping her head. “She checked him out and delivered justice.”
“Bethany Anne doesn’t do that,” Barnabas reminded her.
“I never said Baba Yaga wasn’t an aspect of Bethany Anne. You are talking about the avatar of justice she is wearing. C’mon, it’s a life-sized warning of Shit-Just-Got-Real if you see her. You don’t think Baba Yaga would read minds?”
Barnabas snorted. “Yes. Baba Yaga would in a moment or two, if she wasn’t being lazy.”
Tabitha pointed at him. “Being lazy is a very Bethany Anne trait.”
He put up two hands. “Okay, she isn’t showing near the rage I did when I went insane.”
Lerr’ek’s eyes raised in surprise as he listened to the two of them talk.
Barnabas continued, “When I worried I might do it again, she pointed out she would be there to bring me back down.”
Tabitha’s voice softened. “You aren’t doing this to judge her?”
Barnabas shook his head, his lips pressed together. “I’m here to get my friend back. She did it for me, but can I do it for her?” he asked, pausing a moment. “I’m not sure I can.”
Tabitha laid a hand on his arm. “There isn’t one of us who can do it all by ourselves, Barnabas,” she said, patting it three times as he looked in her eyes.
She finished. “It takes all of us.”
QBS ArchAngel II, on Station above the Ixtali Home Planet
The executive shuttle slowly moved through the field into the landing bay to settle down on the deck. The very unique pilot’s voice came over the speaker system.
“This is your pilot Paul speaking. We have safely arrived on the ArchAngel II. If this wasn’t your final destination, you are probably fucked. The walk back is loooong and you will need to hold your breath for a considerable amount of time. We appreciate you flying Empire Shuttles. You should join us. We have milk and cookies waiting.”
Lance shook his head and stood up, stretching his arms as he watched Darryl step out of the shuttle to make sure everything was ok.
It was most likely a waste of time, but he had resigned himself to having to wait through these security measures.
He grabbed his briefcase, which had been a custom-made gift from Patricia twelve years before when his last briefcase had worn out. This one was a dark blue leather of some sort with brilliant gold metal edges. He slid his tablet into a little slot on the side which allowed him to drop it into the briefcase without opening it.
There was some sort of cool security on the little opening that would stop someone from using the narrow opening to breach the case’s contents. While he appreciated that the security was in place, he didn’t care to learn how the mechanics of it worked. Patricia said Jean had called it good, so good it was.
“Good to go, Speaker,” Scott called, and Lance walked down the short aisle and stepped out of the ship. He continued across the deck toward the wall on the opposite side. The hanger was easily three stories tall, and la
rger than three old jet aircraft hangers on Earth.
The walk gave him time to think, and to try and cool down.
He used his internal connections to speak with the AI of the ship. ArchAngel?
Yes, General?
Please ask Stephen to join me. It’s time he gave up some of his wisdom for the cause.
Yes, General. There was a momentary pause as Darryl led them down the long corridor as the occasional crew, work robot, or small vehicle passed them. General, Stephen said he will meet with you.
Tell him to come to my personal office, please. Reynolds out.
He continued walking, having spoken to Darryl already back on the shuttle, about where he wanted to end up. It took them fifteen minutes to make it to his office, so he was not surprised to see Stephen waiting outside his door.
“ArchAngel didn’t let you in?” Lance asked as the hatch irised open and Darryl stepped in front of him to enter first. Lance ignored the timing and stepped in right behind him, then looked at Darryl, who had turned and given him the fisheye. “I couldn’t take the chance someone was in here to shoot me and put me out of my misery.” He tossed his briefcase on his desk. “Unfortunately, the crazy bastards aren’t allowed on this ship.”
Stephen walked in behind Lance. “Someone have a bad set of meetings?”
Lance was going through his desk drawers, opening one and then the next. He stopped for a moment and his eyes edged up to look at Stephen while his head was still facing down. “Someone is so pissed off he’s ready to nuke everyone.” He continued opening the drawers.
“Here it is,” Lance muttered and pulled out a clear bottle with a clear liquid. “Drink?” he asked Stephen, who shrugged.
“Sure?”
“Oh, the good stuff,” Darryl commented dryly as he stepped out of the office. “I’ll be out here, Boss!”
The door closed before Lance thought of a suitable reply. “Coward,” he finally murmured as he placed two drinking glasses on the table. “This is stuff from only-Patricia-knows-where.” He told him as he poured. “I leave it in the unlocked drawers. Serve them right if someone steals it.”
“Why?” Stephen asked, taking a glass and sitting down in front of the desk.
“Why what?” Lance replied, straightening and taking a sip. He closed his eyes and grimaced, then shook his head. “Damn!” He wiped a tear away.
He looked at Stephen, who was in his own personal hell at the moment, bent forward in his chair and coughing. “What…” Stephen asked, wiping his own eyes, “is this?”
“Hair of the dog,” Lance replied.
Stephen eyed his glass, then set it on the desk and pushed it toward Lance. “Tell me there was no dog involved in the distilling of that?”
“No,” Lance agreed, and pulled the glass toward him. “It’s something TOM says affects the nanocytes for a few moments. Each time you take a swig it causes a few more to send what feels like bad electrical charges through your body and the tongue receptors will feel pain.” He took another swallow and winced for a few seconds. “Reminds me,” his voice was hoarse, “of the good stuff on Earth.”
“I thought ‘good’ meant ‘smooth,’” Stephen commented.
Lance poured the rest of Stephen’s drink into his own glass and then pushed Stephen’s glass to the side. “Depends on what you need,” Lance told him. “Right now I need to remember that life can be worse.”
“It went that badly on the planet?” Stephen asked.
“Worse.” He lifted his glass.
“How worse?”
Lance eyed the half-full glass and looked at Stephen, then back at the glass. He sat down, then lifted it to his lips and downed the whole thing. “OHHHH SWEET BABY JEHOSEPHAT!” Lance coughed, his body spasming a bit in his chair. His left fist slammed the desk twice, paused, then slammed it once again. Taking his time, Lance put his glass down.
“That worse.” Stephen answered his own question.
“Okay,” Lance looked up through his tears, “I am now fully in command of my emotions.” Stephen said nothing as Lance put a sleeve up, clearing his eyes and face of the tears streaming down.
“They want us,” Lance started. “to gut our military, fire our people, and either share our technology or gut it and hamstring our future abilities.”
“How?” Stephen asked.
“Destroy the ships in a sun, perfectly viewable by those who wish to watch. Provide them with a listing of our ships, so they can check them off. Enough of the other allies have ships names so we can’t cheat. Certainly the Leath have most of them.”
“What about the Leath?” Stephen asked.
For the first time since Stephen had seen Lance, a smile graced his face and he chuckled. “Oh, their Defense Minister had a real shit-fit. I was able to hold in my emotions, but the minister blew up like a volcano. It was a sight to behold. Ripped those pricks so many new assholes we needed to build a new solid-waste disposal unit for all the shit that was dribbling down their legs.”
Stephen chuckled, the scene playing in his mind. “I like him already.”
“Her,” Lance corrected. “Seems like the best choice at the moment for these meetings is a female Leath. One of their males would have already started a war.”
“So that was a calm response?” Stephen asked.
“As calm as they come,” Lance agreed. “I’ve met a few more Leath now and believe it or not, without the Kurtherian baggage they aren’t bad people.” He paused a moment, thinking, then added, “For the most part.”
Stephen sighed. “What about your response?”
Lance thought a moment. “I told them that if they kept this up the Empress would move the Meredith Reynolds close enough to shove the laser up their anal orifices.”
“Anal orifices?”
“‘Bungholes’ didn’t translate.” Lance shrugged. “Who knew?” He chuckled. “That got a few more to shit, and we all agreed we would have to do this over many, many years, starting with small things first.
“That gives us time,” Stephen said aloud, his eyes unfocused.
Lance waited for a moment for him to say more, considered pouring another drink, and made a face. He grabbed the two glasses and turned around, and deposited them on the credenza behind him before turning back to Stephen. “Time for what?”
“You know we aren’t going to destroy the ships,” said Stephen, pursing his lips. “Some of them know we won’t destroy the ships, so what do we do with them, and how do you make a warship disappear in front of everyone?”
“That is the trick, isn’t it?” Lance agreed. “While you are pondering this question, ponder how we are going to get Bethany Anne on board with this plan.”
“Logic,” Stephen replied.
Lance eyed his friend warily. “That presumes she is willing to listen to logic.”
“Think about it.” Stephen stood up, placed his hands behind his back, and started pacing around Lance’s office. “We will have to pull off the greatest con this galaxy or any other has ever seen. That is what we will lead with when we tell her.”
“The ships can’t all be local,” said Lance, thinking about it a moment, “and where the hell are we going to put the people we have to fire?”
“Some of them, unfortunately, will not be told. They will have to be fired.”
“Yes, we all have some of those people,” Lance agreed.
“No, good ones too,” Stephen corrected.
“Bethany Anne won’t go for that.” Lance shook his head. “No way, no how.”
“Logic, Lance.” Stephen stopped pacing for a moment, nodded his head, and continued his circular path in the office. “Remember, we are doing this to keep the peace. If we go to war, we kill thousands more. What is worse, a few broken hearts or a thousand deaths?”
“They will flame her name for generations,” Lance shot back.
“Only a few, and they will eventually be brought back into the fold. It will just take a few years.” Stephen released his hands to pop his
knuckles before placing them behind his back again.
“Some could die in that time,” Lance pointed out.
Stephen stopped and looked at Lance, his face somber. “Also, Lance, Bethany Anne will have to be exiled.”
Lance’s eyes narrowed in anger once more, then they slowly cleared as his thinking caught up to Stephen’s, and finally a small glint of humor flickered in the corners. “Stephen, I take everything back I ever said that suggested Barnabas was the more devious of you two.”
Stephen waggled his eyebrows. “Lance, if you didn’t believe that, what good was I at hiding my expertise?”
Lance opened his mouth to argue the point, then shut it. Lance wondered just how many times Stephen had manipulated him into actions and he never saw it coming.
Sonofabitch!
18
QBS Shinigami, Outside of Space Station NN-J453, Noel-ni Protectorate
“I feel like I’m in DC, waiting on traffic to clear up to go home,” Baba Yaga groused. “What’s taking for-fucking-ever here?”
Shinigami replied, “Believe it or not, we have to get into a queue.”
She thought about this for a moment, her tongue running over her teeth, although it slid just above them. Twice in the last two days she’d cut herself.
TOM had informed her that sucking her own blood didn’t help her. She’d told TOM to go screw himself, which had caused her to pause for a moment and ask him if that was even physically possible.
He had ignored her question.
ADAM said, “If you are bored, we still have messages from Stephen, John, and others to give you.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I don’t need that right now. What I need,” she pointed to the video screen, “is a way onto that space station instead of waiting here.”
You could always walk over to it, TOM suggested.
“That just feels so damned chancy.” She rubbed her arms. “I mean, what happens if I stick my head out in space?”
It gets sucked off? Your eyeballs explode? Nothing, since you can pull it back quicker than it would harm you?
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) Page 132
