by B. V. Larson
“Do you realize,” Winslade interrupted me, “that you’ve been reported by the enemy? To the Nairbs, I mean?”
“Uh… you don’t say? Isn’t that just like Armel? He’s always been a sore loser.”
Winslade eyed me suspiciously. I swear that if he’d been born a barn-rat, instead of just looking like one, he’d have been one of those smart bastards that refused to set foot in a baited trap.
He shook his head. “I don’t know what you did out here, McGill. I simply hope and pray it wasn’t so heinous an act that we’ve been disqualified.”
“I’m as pure as the wind-driven snow, Primus sir, and that’s a fact.”
He made a puffing sound and walked away in disgust.
He had me worried, however. So far, both Armel and Winslade had their radar up. Now, that could all be because they knew me well and were accustomed to my shenanigans, but the Nairb Inspector was no fool. He’d spent years chasing after the infamous border-bandit named McGill. Any hint of impropriety was bound to be taken as just cause to launch an investigation.
Hmm…
Determined not to allow everyone’s negativity to spoil my celebratory mood, I marched my unit back to our bunker. We’d been assigned a puff-crete rabbit-hole a few kilometers to the west of the old Shadowlander campsite.
Unfortunately, there wasn’t much to be pleased about at the bunker. When we’d built it a few weeks back, the sun had never reached the place. Now, however, it splashed over the shell-like walls with blazing intensity. Even though the light looked like a pleasant sunrise, it wasn’t cool outside—it was hot. I supposed that if dawn lasted for weeks back on Earth, it wouldn’t be cool at that time of day either.
Still, I managed to break out some hooch and pass it around. We drank, grimaced, spat and drank some more. It was time to celebrate the day’s hard fighting. Those who had died, fully half my unit and more, had already been reborn. They were wandering back into the bunker with haunted eyes. At least we were able to tell them we’d won the battle. That brought a smile back to everyone’s face.
My tapper had started buzzing before my first gulp, and by the time I’d belted down several more, it was just about bursting.
“Can’t you put that on vibrate or something?” Carlos complained.
“I think it is on vibrate.”
“Hot girl, huh?”
“Only the best know my ID.”
Carlos laughed and turned away. I consulted my arm—and I saw it was as I expected. Graves had flooded me with messages over the last hour or so.
Sighing, I began to tap at them. I was bored before I could swipe them all to trash. They were all saying pretty much the same thing:
Report in.
Get your ass up here to Dominus.
There’s a problem, report in.
The Nairbs are using your name, and they don’t sound happy.
That last one had come from Galina. I tapped on it, and I answered.
On my way, sir!
That was a dumb move, as my tapper lit up immediately with an incoming call. As she was a couple of ranks higher than I was, I couldn’t block the transmission. I couldn’t even choose not to answer it.
“McGill? What are you doing, you fuck? Get up to Dominus or I’ll have you shot and revived on my Blue Deck.”
“Yes, sir. Good to see you survived the battle, sir.”
That last was a smart-ass barb, and she knew it. She’d pretty much avoided setting foot on Edge World since we’d arrived.
With a last shout-out to my troops, I clapped backs and shook hands all the way to the bunker’s exit. They cheered me, and I walked out into the bright, slanting sun.
A few minutes later, I walked through some gateway posts they’d set up over at Gold Bunker, and I was transmitted up to Dominus.
Walking the passages, I soon found there was a meeting in progress on the bridge. Stepping onto the command deck, I expected to see a Nairb’s face, swollen up all out of proportion on the central holo-screen.
But that wasn’t what I found at all. Instead, I saw a huddle of real live Nairbs. They were barking up a storm from the front of the room. The translators couldn’t even keep up.
“…and it is further noted that the accused have continued to dissemble,” one of them said as I walked in. “They’ve made no effort to locate, arrest or otherwise produce the named perpetrator.”
“Perhaps you humans have misunderstood Galactic Law,” squawked another one. “The absence of a criminal in no way prevents his prosecution from taking place. Your efforts to hide the beast and protect him from justice will not prevail.”
“Uh…” I said, stepping up to the squad of green seal-like creatures. “Hello, Mr. Nairb. I’m sorry to keep you waiting, but I’ve been down on Edge World winning a battle, see—”
“Incorrect!” said the first Nairb. “The battle was not materially won.”
“This is possibly a new count,” said another. “Review the bylaws, I demand it on behalf of the aggrieved party. All attempts to deny a charge automatically triggers another count of—”
“Whoa, whoa!” I said, laughing a little nervously. “Hold on, boys. That’s not what I meant at all. I was just trying to explain that I was down on Edge World fighting, and it took a bit to get up here. No offense was intended, honorable sirs.”
“We are not capable of taking offense from such a lowly creature as yourself, McGill. In fact, suggesting such a thing is an insult.”
“Uh…” I said, deciding to pass on the idea of pointing out the contradictory nature of the alien’s statement. They seemed all puffed-up and pissed-off enough already.
-75-
In my long and storied life, I’ve pissed off all kinds of people. Most of them were probably women—but aliens had to be a close second place.
“Now that the McGill is here,” the Chief Inspector said, “we can continue with the core of our investigation. I will question the defendant personally.”
Turov’s eyes slid toward me. She had that scared, angry, pleading look on her face. She often wore that expression when authority figures demanded explanations from me.
Finding her distress to be distracting, I tried not to look at her.
“What a fantastic opportunity for all of us,” she said, “we all want very much to get to the bottom of this matter and move on.”
The Nairb zeroed in on her. “Are you suggesting we should increase the pace of our investigation?”
“No, no! Not at all, kind and thoughtful Nairbs. I’m simply looking forward to the just conclusion of these proceedings.”
The top Nairb gave her a long, disapproving glance, and then he turned back to me. “I’ve waited for this very moment for so long, McGill-creature. It is blissful for me to place you under arrest and under oath. Know that, inferior being, your every utterance is now being recorded and transmitted to the Galactic Core via deep-link. No one will interrupt us, no one will—what are you doing, beast?”
While he’d been speaking, I was pecking at my tapper continuously. I needed help, and I got it fast in the form of Natasha. All I did was patch her into my audio feed, so she could hear what I heard. At the same time, I muted her voice and lowered my arm.
“Sorry about that, sir. What’s your first question?”
The Nairb ruffled himself like an upset bird. He didn’t have any feathers, but when he gave himself a shake, it kind of puffed-up the goopy liquids in his body, making him look bigger for a few moments. I found the whole process to be just a tad disgusting, actually.
“The bailiff will restrain the accused if it attempts any further disrespectful conduct during this trial.”
“Uh…” I said, looking around. I almost laughed when a bigger than average Nairb approached. He must be the bailiff. I hoped he didn’t try to restrain me, or anything. I might accidentally kill the fool.
“Now,” the Inspector continued. “Let us move on. Did you or did you not, McGill, place unauthorized robotic defense units in the midd
le of the prearranged battlefield?”
“Absolutely not, sir.”
“Very exciting. Self-confessed conspiracy, making false statements to an Inspector—this is unexpected and refreshing.”
“Glad I’m making your day, sirs. But I don’t quite get where you came up with this charge of premeditation?”
“From your own words, ape-creature. You stated that you didn’t place the active weapons systems on the battlefield—but we know that you did. Lying to an official inspector is a crime. Just as importantly, if your words are true, it would indicate you had an accomplice smuggle the drones into place. That means an expansion of the entire case. Thus, a conspiracy is born.”
“But, wait a second. You can’t have that both ways. Either I set up the drones or someone else did. If I didn’t place them there, then I’m not necessarily in cahoots with whoever did the deed.”
“Cahoots? Is that an animal-noise?”
Before I could answer, they set to chattering among themselves for a few minutes. At last, they came up with an answer.
“Ah yes, I see it here on our audio-recognition scans. It’s an obscure colloquialism. McGill, you will refrain from using bizarre terms in the future. Doing so might open you up to an obstruction of justice charge. You will not succeed in delaying these proceedings with such tactics.”
“I apologize, Your Honor, sir. That wasn’t my intention. What I meant to say is that if I didn’t have anything to do with the placement of the drones, there can’t be any conspiracy.”
“False,” the Nairb said primly. “I can see you’re a neophyte when it comes to Galactic Law. Conspiracies do not require actual acts or participation. They can be entirely derived from intentions. Therefore, if you were aware of or even simply in support of an illegal act, it makes you an equally guilty party by association.”
“Uh… you mean it’s a thought-crime?”
“Yes! That describes the situation perfectly. I’m glad you can comprehend your legal peril, McGill. It makes these proceedings so much more pleasurable.”
“Hmm…” I said, sneaking a quiet glance at my tapper. I saw Natasha was still there, but now she was looking freaked out. With one finger, I tapped a few words. Deep-link. Fix it.
Before the nosy Nairb could start accusing me of some new fanciful violation, I looked up and grinned. “Sorry sirs, you used some funny words there, and I had to look them up.”
“Nonsense. There was nothing obscure about our statements. They were perfectly translated. We’re confident that the collection of animal-noises you call a language, as obscene and guttural as it is, was flawlessly—”
I laughed. “I’m sorry, sirs. I just meant that I didn’t understand all your words—not even in my language.”
“Ah! Ignorance and under-education! We understand that excuse, and we’re not surprised by its use in this instance. Is there anything else you wish to say, beast, before your sentence is pronounced?”
“Pronounced? But… we haven’t really had a trial yet. You haven’t heard our side of the story.”
“Unnecessary and counterproductive. We know implicitly of your guilt. This interview was merely for the purpose of explaining the situation, and frankly, it was an attempt to find grounds for additional charges. Fortunately, you’ve given us several more to append to our already robust list. The court is in your debt for that service.”
“Uh… you’re welcome… but may I ask how you know that I’m guilty?”
The Nairbs talked about it for a few minutes, putting their nasty heads together and doing some squawking. At last, they turned back to me and all the other sick-looking humans who stood around the bridge with shocked looks on their faces.
“Your request is approved. Witness exhibit A.”
Here, the prissy Nairb took over our holotank and began displaying the battlefield as it was a day or two ago.
I was surprised to see myself front and center on the stage. An audible groan went up from the officers surrounding me, but I didn’t look at them.
On the hologram, I walked onto the scene, moving across the open area where the Shadowlander town had once been. Just a few discarded items lay strewn about, the collapsed domes prominent among them.
We all watched as I worked a small device. As I did so first dozens, then hundreds of combat drones rose up from the dirt. They stood ominously tall, like massive, skinny-legged beetles. Dirt dripped from them, and they scanned their environment with evil intent.
Smiling and waving for them to crouch down again, I pressed more buttons. The monstrous robots sank back into their holes. Small scooping devices worked to cover themselves up. After they were all hidden again, I walked among them and kicked dirt on the few antennae and shiny black surfaces that were still visible. In some cases, I even overturned a carton or dragged a piece of trash to hide any sign of the drones.
While this damning video played, the humans on the bridge gasped and carried on. They seemed to think it was a pretty big deal that the Nairbs had such clear evidence of my alleged crimes.
I ignored everyone and worked my tapper. With the crowd being well and truly distracted, I was able to send several key texts back and forth. At last, Natasha’s face on my tapper nodded, and she gave me the thumbs-up sign.
The last thing she did was send me three fateful words: signal is jammed.
The Nairbs let the video play out, then they turned to me in triumph. That nasty Chief-Inspector fellow looked particularly happy with himself.
“Are you convinced now, McGill-creature? At last, your decades-long criminal career has come to a just end. What’s more, I’m applying for an extinction permit. It might take some years before the sentence is executed, mind you, but it will come. Let me assure you of that.”
“I’m sure it will, sirs. You’ve done your homework this time. There’s no escape for heinous humanity this time.”
“James!” Galina said, unable to keep quiet any longer. “Is that all you have to say? You’ve caused this all to go to shit. You’ve been caught, and you don’t even seem to care.”
“Well sir, what would you have me do about it?”
She looked so pissed it didn’t even bear thinking about. Her fists were at her sides, shaking and squeezing the air. Her eyes were squinched tight, and her lips were all pulled up from her teeth. She looked like a rabid dog. She really did.
“Fix this, you asshole.”
Galina didn’t utter these words lightly, let me assure you. She’d said something similar, I recalled, long ago. Once we’d been on the roof of Central, and she’d given me the same order when I’d been faced with Xlur and his demands for our self-execution.
Nodding and smiling, I walked to the nearest dumbfounded marine on the bridge. He was looking at the Nairbs, who were replaying the part where I’d buried the drones personally like mines set to go off later on the unsuspecting saurians.
Slamming closed my helmet’s visor, I grabbed the marine’s weapon. I turned with purpose toward the delegation of Nairbs.
Before anyone knew what was happening, I flipped the morph-rifle to assault mode and held down the trigger. A spray of power-bolts began to hose down the aliens.
At first, they seemed to be in shock. The Bailiff was the first to explode into a steamy gush of fluids, then several others fell.
The rest all began running—but there wasn’t really anywhere to go.
The marine I’d disarmed finally got into the action. He tried to take back the gun I’d stolen—but all that did was get him the butt of his own rifle rammed into his belly. He went down on his can, but he wasn’t through yet. He drew his pistol and dumped the magazine into my back.
It was a good try. In fact, I figured I owed the boy a beer if and when we ever had the opportunity to enjoy it. Unfortunately, I couldn’t afford to let him get lucky, so I gunned both him and his partner down.
Several other Fleet pukes joined in after they saw the marines were shot, but my armor was impervious to their small-arms fire
. Try as they might, they could only make me stagger and stumble now and then as they blazed away with their sidearms, pumping hundreds of bullets and power-bolts into my body.
In the meantime, I kept busy by walking around the bridge, messily murdering the Nairbs. More marines arrived at last, however, and they charged me as a group. They managed to pull the rifle from my hands and pin me on the deck.
“Tribune,” I called, lying flat on my back. “I’m just following orders—and you know it.”
Galina came close and looked down at me. “This is a bad one, James. Do you really think you can fix this?”
I nodded. “I think so—leastwise, we’ve got a shot. One out of a hundred—maybe better.”
She grimaced, then took a deep breath. When she straightened up, she walked to where the last small group of Nairbs were huddled.
The Chief Inspector himself was still alive, and he’d squirmed his way into the middle of his underlings. He doubtlessly planned to use them as shields.
“Turov,” he said. “This doesn’t bode well for your species. We’re expanding our investigation, invoking the shared-guilt clause of Galactic Law. Somehow, you’ve interrupted our communications, but that won’t be the end of these proceedings. It will only be the beginning.”
Galina nodded vaguely. “Did you just say, Inspector, that you couldn’t communicate with your ship?”
“Are your auditory organs impaired? That’s exactly what—”
She drew her slim pistol and shot him. That was it for the rest of them. The last handful of green snot-bags began shrieking like rabbits in a snare. They humped and flapped their way around the deck in desperation.
One by one, Galina chased them down and shot them all. She cursed the whole time, while I laughed until my belly hurt.
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With her slim sides heaving, Galina walked up to where I was lying on the deck. I looked up at her, still pinned down by a half-dozen confused Fleet boys.
She aimed her pistol at me, and I laughed from inside my impenetrable suit of armor.