by B. V. Larson
“Okay, okay. So, we can listen to anything we want?”
“Well… not really. We can listen to Earth fleet official communiques now—but that’s all. If some aliens, like these Edge Worlders here, were to send a message with their own encoding we’d have to break their code first.”
“Oh… Still, that’s pretty cool. But why did you work so hard to get here? To tell me about this? Why couldn’t it wait until after we dropped?”
“It’s about the content of Merton’s message.”
“So what? Is he asking for permission to perm me or something?”
She looked around furtively. Then, she gestured for me to lean close. I obliged her, taking off my helmet. Her hot breath warmed my ear.
“Captain Merton has called for help. He told Central that Fike is out of control and out of his depth with this mission command. He’s asked for a personal retinue of guards and a new commander—preferably someone of imperator rank.”
“Huh…” I said, chewing that over. “I guess he got spooked when Fike threatened him on his own bridge.”
“More like he got pissed.”
“Hmm… okay. That is good to know. I can see why you didn’t want to broadcast it over any open channels. I can also see how this project has real possibilities…”
Natasha eyed me with her pretty blues. She knew me well, as well as anyone, and she could tell where my mind was going.
“James? Aren’t we going to turn this tech over to Central? I mean… it’s a big deal.”
“It is. I happen to know that the nerds inhabiting the basement under Central have been working on exactly this kind of technology.”
“Oh, right… your daughter Etta works down there.”
I looked at her sharply. “I didn’t say it came from her. I’ve got lots of friends down there.”
“Of course. Don’t worry, I’m as guilty of espionage in this case as you are—I’m probably more guilty, because I actually did it.”
I nodded, and I pointed down to the floor. The red arrows were blinking again. “We’ve got to board the lifter. Keep this under your helmet for now, will you?”
“Yes, Centurion.”
We walked back out of the alcove and found most of the unit was staring at us. Money exchanged hands, and Carlos began to lead a loud clapping session. To my chagrin, Leeson and Harris joined in.
“That’s right people, give it up!” Carlos shouted. “That has to be the quickest, hardest hook-up I’ve witnessed in a dozen lifetimes. I stand in awe, Centurion. Sheer awe.”
Brushing past them all, I strode toward the lifter. I didn’t meet anyone’s eyes or make any denials. In my wake, Natasha was sputtering and growling about a “pack of lies,” but I could have told her that it was hopeless.
At times like this, it was best to let the troops think what they liked. Besides, I didn’t see how this particular moment could damage my reputation. I was already infamous for horn-doggery.
-35-
The lifter fell away from the bowels of Dominus with a gut-wrenching lurch. We dropped down, screaming into the atmosphere at the highest speed and sharpest angle the pilot dared. The external hull heated up with friction, rising to something north of twenty-five hundred degrees C.
Bouncing and shivering in our seats, we felt the heat penetrate the hull. The air inside the lifter became stuffy, and we all sealed our helmets. Then the jump seats under our asses got toasty. Despite being heavily insulated in our suits, it became mighty uncomfortable before the pilot pulled up and slowed his dive.
Swooping down around the capital city of the Shadowlanders, we made our grand entrance in style. Twenty lifters, full of Legion Varus and our supporting pack of auxiliaries from Blood World landed in unison. What a grand sight it must have been from the ground.
We encircled the town the moment the ramps went down. Trotting outside by the thousands, we met no immediate resistance.
The Shadowlander city was interesting in appearance. It was really a vast collection of large fabricated domes. Surrounding this was a hastily built defensive bulwark. A carved pit was the final defense, dug some twenty meters deep.
“Looks like a frigging fortress,” Harris said.
“Yeah, but modern weapons can easily crack those flimsy metal walls,” Leeson said. “They probably built them to hold off the primitives.”
Looking around, I saw it was true. There were two major gates leading in and out of the town. One went toward the brighter side of the planet. In that direction, the sky was permanently lit up a bright pink. In the other direction, where the second bridge went, the road led into twilight, a purply darkness hung there.
Every month or so, the Shadowlanders picked up their entire town and moved it to a better spot as the sun grew too bright overhead. Like every soul on 91 Aquarii, they were nomads by necessity. They truly lived on the twilight edge of their world.
“Standard rules of engagement, people,” I told my unit over tactical chat. “If someone takes a pot shot at you, you have permission to return fire—but don’t pop off at any locals without verifiable provocation.”
“That’s no fun,” Carlos complained.
I gave him a dark look, and he grinned in return. The truth was, I’d had about enough of him already on this campaign, and he was skating on thin ice. Of course, in his case, that didn’t mean he’d change his ways. I’d have to kill him if I wanted some peace and quiet.
That gave me an idea, so I smiled back at him. “I’ve got a job for you, Ortiz. You’re going into town at the head of our column.”
“How’s that? I’m a freaking bio. I’m supposed to pick up the pieces after you grunts screw things up.”
I shook my head. “Not today. You’re trained in xenobiology, right?”
He snorted. “I took a class once, but I forgot everything they said years ago.”
“Good enough. You’re my expert on local customs, diseases and other dangers. Get up there to the front line and tell me what we can eat, where we can safely walk—all that crap.”
Carlos looked disgusted, but he knew he was outranked and outmaneuvered. He walked ahead of the unit with the light troopers, holding a snap-rifle tightly in his hands. I hadn’t watched him hold a rifle like he meant business in years, and it did my heart good to see it.
“About time you put the fear of God in that pug of a man,” Leeson said.
“He’s a member of your platoon. Why don’t you fix him?”
Leeson laughed. “Fix him? That’s rich. Carlos will figure out a way to be annoying even after he gets himself permed someday.”
I couldn’t argue his point, so I dropped it.
Graves gave us the signal to advance once everyone was safely on the ground. Behind us, with a fiery whoosh, twenty lifters rose back up into the sky, leaving us behind.
As we approached the makeshift city, I saw the locals eyeing us. They didn’t look scared, and they didn’t look friendly. They kind of reminded me of Dust World colonists. You could tell just by the way they stared that they weren’t entirely civilized.
They weren’t entirely human, either, but I suspected we shared some kind of ancestor. I hadn’t expected to find anything like a human this far from Earth, but it had happened before.
History hadn’t been kind to humanity, not even in our home region of the galaxy. Long ago, various aliens had visited Earth. Our home planet had been regarded as a wilderness until a few thousand years back. Bored travelers had picked up specimens now and then, transporting humans to serve as slaves, exhibits, or to be dissected. Now and then, especially among the Cephalopod worlds, we discovered colonies of humans that had diverged somewhat from our own genetics, but who were still recognizable as cousins. 91 Aquarii was that kind of planet.
“There’s no army, nothing,” Harris said. “These guys have teleporting agents, but they’re losers when it comes to a stand-up fight.”
“Ah-ah,” Leeson said. “Watch that kind of talk. They’re more technically advanced than they
look. They’re also sneaky. Keep your eyes peeled.”
I took Leeson’s advice to heart. Helsa had taught me just how sneaky these Edge World people could be.
Graves and his unit walked in the lead of our cohort. We were right behind him, backing him up in case he needed it.
When we reached the glinting metal walls, a delegation of aliens came out to greet us. I recognized their leader, who was stern but attractive. It was Kattra, Helsa’s mother.
She nodded to Graves and put her hands together in a movement that reminded me of an earthly monk. As I wasn’t able to hear their talk, I stepped closer. My intrusion earned me some reproachful stares, but the legion Varus people parted ways. After all, I was a centurion and my connection to the brass was well known, even if it was often scoffed at.
“…and we bring you greetings from Earth as well,” Graves was saying when I got within earshot. “Your planet and your people should consider themselves to be a welcome protectorate of Earth from now on. We’ll see to your security and well-being.”
“Protectorate?” Kattra spat out. I didn’t think she liked the word. “Are you saying you rule here now?”
“Not at all. We’re representatives of the Empire. We’re officially Enforcers for the Mogwa, we serve their will here in Province 921. Therefore, it’s our job to defend any planet that comes under attack in this vast region of space.”
Graves wasn’t good at diplomacy. In fact, he was usually awful at it. But I thought he was doing a good job today, candying up what essentially amounted to an annexation.
Kattra, however, wasn’t buying his nice words today.
“We don’t want your protection. We’re capable of defending ourselves.”
Graves spread his hands wide. He was still on his best behavior, but I could tell he was becoming annoyed.
“Look, Queen, it’s our job to defend worlds in this province. We’re going to do our job, and since we have approval from the Galactics, we don’t need your permission. Naturally, we’d prefer to do this with your full cooperation.”
Kattra’s eyes narrowed into slits. She slewed them from side to side, taking in our vast array of troops, armor and guns. Her eyes finally landed on Graves again.
“Now I understand why you didn’t simply park yourselves in orbit and wait for the Skay. You’re here to conquer, not to protect. Your disdain for us is evident in everything you do, human.”
“Um… how’s that? Have we offended you in some way?”
“Your insults are numerous. First, your top command Fike doesn’t come himself. He sends a lapdog instead. That is your first insult.”
To me, that part seemed like basic common sense. After all, these crazy people had already killed and kidnaped Galina. What would they do if they could reach Fike? God only knew.
“Secondly,” Kattra went on, “you land with a force of thousands to talk of peace and protection. You seem to believe we are helpless. Trust me, we are not. To a Shadowlander a show of strength such as you’ve performed here today is an act of foolishness. A wise fighter never displays his troops. He strikes suddenly, unexpectedly, leaping close from the deepest shadows of our creeping sun.”
I could tell Graves was getting annoyed. I was something of an expert on that subject, as I’d arguably annoyed him more times than any other man alive.
“Listen up, Kattra. I’m not here to negotiate or kiss your ass. I’m here to inform you concerning the realities of this situation. Do you understand me?”
She eyed the armored line of troops for a moment. At last, she inclined her head. “I understand fully. It is you who are confused. 91 Aquarii will determine her own fate. Nothing you can do or say will change that. Soon, the Skay will arrive. They will take ownership of our planet, and all will become clear. In the meantime, I will pay you back for your disrespectful words.”
Saying this, Kattra produced a glowing length of blade. It was a force-blade, one that was intensely bright. She stepped forward with speed and grace, thrusting the bright shaft of energy at Grave’s belly.
Graves was no slouch. He grabbed her wrist, twisted and threw her to the ground.
There, she gazed up at him with a feral smile. “I always carry a secondary blade that is as dark as the first is bright.”
Graves blinked, then he staggered.
We all saw it then. A jagged black line had appeared, cutting diagonally across his belly. Kattra’s second blade had penetrated his metal armor as if it were paper.
Kattra had gutted Graves. He was dead on his feet.
Rushing forward, I shot her. She saw me coming, but she didn’t look fearful. She didn’t even look surprised.
Graves’ bodyguards, wankers all, stood around and aimed their weapons at the dead woman. A lot of good that did anyone.
Graves was struggling to keep on his feet. He looked at me, and his teeth were gritted. He lifted a finger and pointed toward the glinting metal walls.
“McGill… burn down that town…”
“Is that an order?”
“No, but I want you to find a way to do it.”
Those were his final words. After that, he fell on his face and shivered in his death throes.
-36-
A few primus-types came running to the scene after it was all over. They fussed over Graves and Kattra, who were both as dead as doornails.
Primus Collins was among this useless gaggle. She’d never liked me, but today she looked like she wished I was dead in the dust instead of the two who lay at her feet.
“What did you say to her?” she demanded.
“Me, sir? Nothing. I just put a little punctuation on the argument, if you get my drift.”
Collins nodded slowly. “You shot her. A leader of a planetary government. Why have you been allowed to keep breathing for so long, McGill?”
“Your question has been the topic of many lively conversations, sir, and that’s a fact. But don’t worry. I wouldn’t get too fussed-up about all this. These people invented revival machines, after all. She’ll pop right out of an oven somewhere after this, and we’ll do the same for Graves. No harm done.”
Primus Collins looked at me as if I was crazy. Her tapper was buzzing though, so she turned away to answer it. After a short, tense conversation, she turned back around to face me. She had the kind of grin on her mug that I knew pretty well. It was a vengeful look, I was sure of that much.
She flicked her finger over her tapper and transferred the call to me. “Tribune Fike wants to talk to you, fool.”
“Uh… thanks,” I said to her, then I addressed my tapper. “Hello?”
“McGill? This is Tribune Fike. Did you just murder a foreign dignitary? Again?”
“Yes sir, sort of. In my defense, I’d like to point out she was in the act of killing Graves at the time.”
“I don’t care about Graves. I don’t care about you, either. What I care about is our source of revival machines. Do you get that? You’ve set this mission back!”
“Uh…” I said, wondering if that was why Graves’ security team had done nothing to help.
“Listen, next time a Shadowlander tries to kill you, deflect the blows if you can. Take them if you can’t. We have to convince these people we’re strong, but we’re on their side.”
“Sure thing... Maybe I should take off my armor and walk naked into their town, sir? Would you like that?”
Fike’s face darkened. I could tell right off he didn’t like my remarks. The man had no sense of humor. None at all.
“McGill, here are your new orders: since Graves is dead, and your team is on the spot, you will walk your unit into that city. Recon the place and send back a live vid-stream. If they want to tear you apart for vengeance, they have my blessing.”
“That’s mighty—” I began, but he’d disconnected. “Shit…”
Harris was lingering nearby at this point. He always seemed to sense when important matters were being decided that would shape his near future.
“So what’s th
e deal, McGill? Are we storming this town and slaughtering these uppity peasants?”
“Even better! We’ve been ordered to march in there and recon the place.”
Harris narrowed his eyes. “We? As in this legion, or this cohort, or…?”
“As in us. 3rd Unit, the best and the brightest of Legion Varus.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake…”
He wandered off, and I watched him go. He was right, of course. We were royally screwed. But I’d never been a man who liked to kick off a suicidal mission on a negative note. I rousted my troops and led them into the city with fanfare. I didn’t tell anyone else what the story was, but Harris had a big mouth. Leeson was soon on my tail.
“You just had to go and kill that woman, didn’t you?” he asked me.
“You’re breaking ranks, Adjunct. This is a combat mission.”
Grumbling, he withdrew to his platoon of specialists. My unit was a mixed-forces formation, meaning we had a platoon of heavy troops, led by Harris, and a platoon of lights led by Barton. In the rear of the force was Leeson’s group. It was made up of weaponeers, ghosts, bio people and techs. They did all the jobs that took a bigger brain than average to complete.
We walked into the sprawling city of domes unopposed. No one attacked us—they didn’t even talk to us. The locals moved out of the way and watched our column go by. They didn’t look terribly impressed, or terribly friendly. I’d seen their flat, lizard-like stares before. It was impossible to know what they were thinking, but I was pretty sure it was something unpleasant.
Something about the Shadowlander attitude made my skin crawl a little, I’ll admit. I found myself wishing that our newly discovered personal armor was in mass-production by now—but it wasn’t. We’d worked on the project since we’d discovered the secret to making Rigellian armor back on Glass World, but I’d heard from Etta that the investigation team had hit some snags. Mostly, they didn’t have enough Vulbites to make the suits in quantity. Back on Dark World, there were billions of those overgrown centipedes to do the work by mandible. But on Earth, we only had about a hundred cooperative specimens.