by Leslie Lee
around. Out waiting a rock though was going to be interesting in a boring sort of way. His breath formed a small mist which condensed, then froze on the metal around him.
The recruiting station a few blocks from his home was the only clean building for miles around. The sidewalks were swept, the windows unbroken, no graffiti. It looked as if it had just dropped from the Upper Levels to land here. He was fifteen. Running alone now. Drugs, guns, nothing too serious. It made his mom sad. When she was high, she'd rail and scream at him that he should be better. When she was clean, she'd just hug him and cry. She felt she'd failed him. This wasn't what she had wanted for him. Still, better than selling himself. Or outright crime.
The interior of the station was clean too. And it had real coffee with donuts. He had stood outside at different times for the last six months. Being inside was different. Men and women, mostly his age, went in and out. The recruiters would take anyone people said. There was always some war some place. Certainly not enough people in the Uppers to get the volunteers there. He'd thought about this for a long time. He could handle himself pretty well. Knew his way around a gun. The Soldiers paid decently enough. The tour of duty was twelve years which sucked. But the ads promised the recruit could choose any of the off-world settlements at the completion of service. Plus, there'd be a fair chunk of change waiting at the end.
Standing quietly off to the side, he watched the recruiters working at their desks. Clean, healthy, busy. He knew they saw him. But they didn't do anything though some glanced at him when they thought he wasn't looking. He wanted to see what would happen. And for some time, nothing did. People would wander in from the street. Some would sign up. Some would leave. He waited.
An officer walked out from a back room. His gait was stiff and odd. Prosthetics. His face was tanned and wrinkled, grim. Middle-aged. Short military haircut.
"Andrews." He held out his hand.
"Mak." He shook the hand warily. The man didn't seem to care Mak's hand was dirty.
"Talk?" Andrews pointed to the office with his chin.
Mak followed him. The office was small but bigger than his mom's main living space. Their entire apartment could fit in the lounge area.
"I used to be a pod pilot," Andrews said.
"What's a pod?"
Andrews flipped a switch on his desk and a wall panel slid away. There was a short video detailing what a pod was. He knew Andrews was watching him, but he didn't know for what, so he just concentrated on the images. Especially on the requirements for the pilot. He feigned disinterest though.
The video stopped and they sat quietly together. Andrews finally hit another switch and two monitors revealed themselves. One showed outside, the corner where he often stood watching. The other the reception area where he had stood waiting.
Andrews examined him coolly. Mak stared back.
"You are a pod pilot," Andrews stated finally.
"Can't drive a car," he mumbled, shrugging.
"Pod's not a car."
Mak showed him his ident tag. Andrews scanned the flesh.
And he was done.
The door into the cargo hold opened suddenly. He shut his eyes against the sudden brightness. A group of Soldier officers marched in.
"So what the hell is it?" one asked.
"The X's science teams have looked at it. Brahms says that it appears to be a rock."
The first man snorted contemptuously. "No rock could do this kind of damage to a DreadNought. Anybody see if this contains any kind of a life form?"
"Ship science and security have evacuated the area as ordered, sir. They haven't made any kind of determination."
"Get science back here, goddammit. Tell them we need to know whether this damn rock is important or not."
"Yes sir."
There was silence as they contemplated the rock. "They said this thing was putting out some kind of field. You could feel it. I think they're just a bunch of pussies. I don't feel a goddamned thing. Anybody else?"
The other men shook their heads though two rubbed their temples.
"Anybody touch this thing?"
"Science wouldn't allow it, sir."
"Cowards," the man spat. "Let's get the hell out of here."
"Sir, what about the alien?"
"The pod jockey? Is he under guard? Our guard?"
"Yes sir."
"I'm going to tell the commander to jettison that son of a bitch into space. He's probably what's preventing us from communicating properly with the aliens. And I don't trust them. They were only supposed to take the S'reh'du group. But it looks like they went after the Warszawa as well."
"Maybe the Colossus group confused them, sir."
The officer swore. "Maybe. And maybe monkey's will fly out of my ass one day. Are the other battalions with the program?"
"They're good men, sir. Most of them will follow orders. We're isolating anybody who has a problem with the new agenda."
"And the ship's crew?"
"We have our allies in place, sir, but there's not a lot of them. That could be a problem."
"Manage it. Permanently if you have to."
"Yes sir."
Mak waited until they'd shut the hatch leaving the cargo area in darkness. He left the cable hanging down. The men hadn't seen it or if they had hadn't thought anything of it. He made his way back to the Blue Box dorm and was surprised to see the squad there.
"All the squads are standing down," Th'han'dra informed him, eyeing his grubby clothes.
"Looks like you've been wrestling with a pig, Boss," Ranger observed.
"Pig must've won," said Jerry.
"Yeah, yeah. You wanna hear this?"
He told them where he'd been, what he'd heard, and what he'd seen.
"The damned thing moved?" K'hon asked, startled. "Like it was alive?"
"Don't know about that but this rock and the invisible blobs appear to be related somehow. We've got to get to Brenn. If he's a threat to them, then we want him."
"If they have him in the brig, it's going to be tough getting him out," Jerry observed.
"I heard he was in sick bay under heavy guard," said Zin Zin. "Like that's really going to stop him."
"He's in bad shape," Mak said, grimacing at the memory of Brenn's body. "He's not going anywhere."
"We're gonna be needing some big time help, Boss," Ranger stated.
"Let's make a list," Mak asked.
The list wasn't very long. Mostly other pilots.
"Okay," he said. "We're going to have to ask these people to find people that they can trust. Brahms is going to be the best source."
"We're making a damned big assumption here, Boss," K'hon protested. "How do we know we're on the right side? Suppose everybody else is on the right side."
Mak rubbed his eyes. "Do they feel like the right side? Do they act like the good guys? Why did they take over the S'reh'du and her group?"
"The Kyrzal was attacking, Maybe it messed them up or something."
"The enemy of my enemy?" Jerry said.
"Might be my enemy too," Dakota finished the Hellborne saying.
"You're learning," Jerry grinned appreciatively.
"Let's concentrate on what we can control," said Mak. "This new faction that's taken over the X, what do we know about them?"
"Not a bunch. They're made up mostly of Soldiers. I'd say that all the Soldiers will follow along with them. My guess is they have allies in the X's crew, but unknown as to how many," Ranger said. "I reckon that these guys are the bad guys."
"They're from your Earth Central," Th'han'dra pointed out.
"They're bad guys from Earth Central then." The others chuckled a little. "Last time I checked, Earth Central was part of the Unity. There's been nothin' about leavin' the Unity high and dry. And I'd bet my last meal that they're the one's behind Telli's death."
"That could still be an accident," Zin Zin said.
Nobody said anything.
"So, can we count the ship's crew to be behind us?" Mak aske
d.
"My guess would be that the vast majority is behind Brahms," Th'han'dra answered.
"That's good enough. We've got to get to Brahms then."
"I guess I have to say it," Ranger said, stretching and yawning. "But what's our objective?"
"Get the hell out of here alive," he said. He'd wondered about that question himself. "I think this other faction has lost control of the situation. I think these aliens have been running the Kyrzal and the Kyrzal are pushing back. That's why the Colossus is here. I think they were done with the deal. I think these aliens or whatever took a bigger chunk than they were supposed to. I also think the Gold Ghost aliens are on our side. Brenn's acted that way. I'll take it. For now. We give the X back to the Unity. Step one is getting the hell away from here. Step two is let somebody else figure out this whole damned mess."
"I can live with that," Ranger said, appreciatively.
"Okay, first?"
The door to the dorm slid open.
Jamaal, the Security Chief, and a team of security men strode in.
The security men were heavily armed. Grim, they surveyed the scene.
Mak and the pilots had instantly stood and spread out. But Mak had no illusions. They could never get to their weapons in time to put up any kind of resistance.
"Brahms is dead," Jamaal said. "There's a Soldier platoon on the way down here to retrieve Blue Box."
Blue Box looked at Mak who didn't hesitate. "Grab your stuff," he told them. "We're leaving."
Jamaal face unclenched a little. "We're not sure who's who," he said, bleak, as the squad retrieved weapons. He looked askance at some of the guns that appeared. There were regulations about what kind of weapons were allowed on board. Most of the Blue Box weapons definitely stretched those regulations. The rest tore the regulations up. "We heard