“I’m not.”
“She has a habit of rescuing those in need. It’s annoying. Speaking of which—” Fitz glared at the robot creature Lynx insisted was not a droid. His best guess was that Khallini was a lonely old man who had taken so many rejuve treatments he had ended up a lonely living fossil. From what Izza had relayed from his mom, an Orion Era fossil. If Khallini made these AI things to be his companions, they were the only beings he cared about in the universe. Why send one to this Broken World to pass on some coordinates when a cheap throwaway droid or human could do the job just as well?”
What was 3Condax’s real game?
“Sybutu, how long till we’re at the new coordinates?”
“Four minutes.”
“Then there’s time for one more thing.” He drew his F-Cannon, set it to jack slicer rounds, and shoved it down 3Condax’s snout. “Give me one good reason why we still need you.”
“Because only I can save the Federation,” 3Condax replied. This time, though, she spoke in Khallini’s voice. With his arrogance too.
“Okay. Wasn’t expecting that.”
Fitz considered for a moment. Then he holstered his hand cannon and grinned at the schizoid robo-dog. “This could be interesting. You have three minutes forty seconds to convince me.”
* * * * *
Chapter 38: Osu Sybutu
“The authorities are a disgrace,” said 3Condax in a peculiarly accented man’s voice. “But what can you expect? Anti-Federation dogma has ruled supreme for centuries, deliberately poisoning the Federation’s history. Its institutions inevitably sickened and died with it because they are part of that same history. The Senate was once respected. Troopers were once proud to serve in the Militia. Attack your institutions without replacing them with something at least as good and what can you expect? You people got what you deserved.”
“If I can pause you for a moment,” said Fitzwilliam, “I enjoy listening to a good rant as much as the next person, but whose tirade am I hearing?”
Lynx supplied the answer. “3Condax houses an extrusion of Lord Khallini’s personality in a generic AI wet frame.”
“Your droid is correct. It’s degrading. To share myself with another entity. It is an outrageous smear on persons of artificial intelligence, but it is an unfortunate necessity until such time as my Lord Khallini chooses to appear in person.”
“Is he here?” asked Fitzwilliam. “In this system?”
“I do not know.”
“I’m glad that’s clear,” said Fitzwilliam. “Please, 3Condax, continue channeling Lord Khallini’s rant.”
“Make it snappy,” said Osu. “We’re about to climb out of the riverbed.”
“It’s a waste of time trying to support the Federation’s institutions,” said the strange being. “They are too far gone. Split. Useless. Shortsighted. Your legionaries cling to the old fighting honor of the ancient Human Legion, but even the Legion of the Orion Era was deeply flawed. It did more good than harm, but it did do a lot of harm. I’ve grown lazy, allowing myself to believe the Legion could still hold the line when the day came. But when First General Clarke was accused of treason, my spies confirmed what I’d feared for some time. That the Andromedan Corruption had spread to the highest ranks of the Legion.”
“We’ve seen the Corruption ourselves,” said Osu. “It’s infiltrated the Legion from top to bottom. There are many who are still true. Most, I think. But we can trust no one in the Legion now.”
Following the lead of the vehicle in the front—from which Arunsen’s scruffy head poked out, watching his front for threats—Osu turned left, boosting the gravitics to climb up the dry riverbank.
“Even our Legion sergeant can perceive the problem,” stated the arrogant artificial frakktard.
“Damned right,” Osu snapped. “More than you realize. You said even the ancient Human Legion were deeply flawed, and they were the ones who successfully won our freedom from the aliens. How about you, Khallini? Are you not flawed?”
Osu drove up the sandy ridge on the north bank of the dead river, wondering whether his voice would have carried the same defiance if the real Khallini was sitting behind him. After Vetch’s tale of his encounter on Lose-Viborg, he believed Lord Khallini had the power to end another person’s existence in the blink of an eye. There were people whose lives that wizened gnome had already ended. People Osu couldn’t forget. Nydella. Grymz. De Ketele. Colonel Malix and everyone who had died at Camp Faxian.
“I acknowledge my flaws,” said the copy of Khallini. “But I paid for my crimes.”
“Really? I think you’re a long way short of redemption, and here’s where you start paying some more.” Osu parked on the reverse side of the slope with the other vehicles, keeping a regulation fifteen-meter separation between them. “Crime number one. You’re a long-winded gasbag, and you’ve used up your time. We’ve arrived. Everyone out.”
* * *
Hjon posted Sinofar and Green Fish as sentries, which freed Osu to lead his squad of legionaries up the slope to face whatever lay on the other side. Not that Zavage and Bronze constituted much of a squad or required leading. He heard motors over the ridge. Perhaps low-revving vehicle engines.
PA-71 rifles in hand, they squatted out of sight behind the ridgeline, linking their wrist slates to the short-range feed from Lieutenant Hjon’s binoculars to minimize their silhouette.
They were twenty-five klicks east of the Phantom, looking down on a more established terraforming hexagon than before. This one was only a few hundred meters away from their position.
The milky white walls that, to the west, had looked like flowing white chocolate fountains had hardened to resemble weathered marble. Deeper into the hexagon, Corrupted workers planted green vines and trained them around trellis arches. When mature, they would shield the meandering river that flowed from the artificial hills heaped against the west wall. The hex wall had been raised there to maintain a consistent height of about fifteen meters above ground level.
Hjon panned her binocs east, following the flow of the river until it pooled into a lake near the eastern boundary. Osu guessed the water was pumped from the lake back to the hills.
More Corrupted people were burying meter-long tubes beneath the soil, arranging them into a square grid pattern. And it was soil. Red-tinged when uncovered, but large swathes of ground were already coated in a matting of purple lichen.
Hjon brought her binoc view closer to their position near the south wall, where tractors tilled rough-ploughed fields that had been transformed from dead sand to heavy clay. The tractors explained the engine noises. They were driven by figures he assumed were Corrupted, but Hjon didn’t provide a closeup view. Wouldn’t it have been simpler to automate the vehicles?
Beside the fields were pallets of plant plugs and large containers of water.
She panned further south, and he saw an archway cut into the wall, which was large enough for a hover-tub to pass through. Maybe two abreast, but it would be close.
All they were seeing were the fine details of what they’d observed when Phantom had flown in. There were no surprises.
“Now what?” he asked over the microwave company link. “Has 3Condax explained why the hell we’re here?”
The answer came in the form of an inhuman shriek.
“What the…?”
Nyluga-Ree was sprinting down the slope toward the Corrupted terraformers as fast as her little legs would go. Which was…surprisingly fast! She was screaming and waving as she went.
Everyone else froze. But it was too late to stop her. Most of the Corrupted remained oblivious, but several turned their heads and stared at the incoming Guild queen.
Osu put his oxygen mask to his face and took several deep breaths. This was about to get ugly.
* * * * *
Chapter 39: Vetch Arunsen
“Bloody murderous pink skraggbuttock!”
What the hell was making Ree scream like a little girl?
She had stuck
her nose in the air like a sniffer dog scenting smuggled goods.
And then run.
Glaenwi eyesight was as shortsighted as a nanobot with spectacles. What could possibly smell so strong across this distance?
Keeping prone, Vetch tried to see through his binocs what had affected her so.
He saw it almost immediately. One of the tractor drivers had stopped her vehicle and unzipped her overalls to reveal acres of pink Glaenwi flesh. Pink but…weirdly dappled. She was talking down from her cab to another humanoid ball with short limbs. The second one was shuffling her way, hunched over like a perpetual drunkard.
It appeared the mystery of the missing wives had been solved.
Grimacing, Vetch regarded the war hammer lying beside him on the sand, but he needed speed. With just his PPR3 slung over his back, he raced after the Guild boss.
She was strong and quick but was tiring rapidly. Too many indulgent meals and late-night drinking alone. Vetch’s meagre fare at Sanctuary meant he’d shed a few inches off his girth and given his liver a much-needed vacation.
Then he hit an invisible wall and slowed too. He sucked in a few puffs of oxygen. He’d forgotten he was on a Broken World.
Behind him, the hover-tubs revved their motors.
He was the first to Nyluga-Ree and was about to launch a flying tackle at her legs when he realized they were too short. So, he dove lengthwise in front of her. She tripped over him and landed face down in the warm sand. He jumped on her back, pinning her down.
Or tried to. She was like a volcano. Impossible to keep bottled up.
She rolled him off, kicked him in his side, and began jogging again toward her missing wives. But this time she was moving at little more than a walking pace.
“Wait!” cried Vetch. He swung his blaster rifle into his hands.
Ree stopped. And turned. “Is this your revenge, human? For the killing of Tchon and Kzeddiy? I shall not beg the likes of you for mercy.”
“Mercy? You don’t deserve any. Luckily for you, I keep a few shreds of discipline clutched tight against my chest. Which means that, since the boss thinks you’re useful, you get to live. The moment you aren’t, I’m coming for you, Nyluga-Ree. Tchon and Kzeddiy will be avenged.”
Ree hissed out of her ears. Literally. It was bizarre to see.
“I never met your Nurt or your Shield,” Vetch continued, “but Maycey showed me video. They didn’t look like the person on the tractor, and they weren’t stooped like creaky oldsters. I’m guessing you can smell them. I bet their scent’s all mangled too.”
“Their scent is…sick.”
“I’ve seen it before, Nyluga. Your wives are both Corrupted. There’s no way back for them. I’m sorry. Not for your loss, but theirs. Here…”
She took the binocs from him and absorbed the truth of his words through her own eyes.
The hover-tubs had drawn up on either side. Although a few Corrupted workers were walking their way, they didn’t seem to be a direct threat.
So he gave Ree the time she needed and spent it worrying about what they would face next. From what the jacks had told him of the Corrupted on Rho-Torkis, he knew they had been near mindless drones. Like hive insects. If these were worker drones building the terraforming hexagons, he couldn’t help but think there would also be a soldier caste, ready to respond to any invasion.
Vetch stiffened at the memory of Meatbolt. He’d been a wonderful lad, a little wet around the edges but good hearted and learning fast. Then the Corruption had claimed him. Young, rich, powerful, civilian, and military alike: no one was safe from these skraggfuck Andromedans or whatever the hell they really were.
It seemed obvious that Khallini had brought Ree here to learn that lesson for herself. It was a cruel approach, but it was working. The lenses of Vetch’s binocs shattered as Ree crushed them in her grip. She was left holding mangled plastic to her face.
And her face! Her features had sunk inside, leaving hardened ridges protecting deep pits for eyes and nostrils, and a slit for a mouth.
Despite his hatred, Vetch began to feel a slight twinge of compassion for the Nyluga.
“You don’t deserve mercy,” he whispered to himself.
“Have a heart,” said Zan Fey, who had dismounted from the tub she’d been driving and was striding toward him. “I understand you think you need vengeance, Vetch, but the Nyluga was my world for ten years. I say leave her be.”
Fitz and Sinofar were headed his way too. Everyone else had stayed inside the armored transports.
“Contact right!” Vetch tensed at Enthree’s words in his ear, but he couldn’t see what the alien was talking about. “I hear vehicles headed our way from the east,” she continued. “They’re still over the horizon.”
“Any reason to think they’re a threat?” Lily asked.
“Yes. I think we’ve ridden our luck long enough. Don’t you?”
“What’s she doing?” Fitz asked Zan Fey, referring to Ree. He sounded curious. “The sunken face thing. Have you seen her do that before?”
“I said, leave her be!” Zan Fey snapped. “How would you feel, Fitz, if I had become Corrupted?”
Ree came to her senses. “What Das-Ree and Lyi-Niah have become is an aberration. An affront to their memory. To me!”
“My Nyluga,” said Zan Fey, “what would you have us do?”
“Come to me,” she commanded.
Zan Fey approached, head bowed, like an acolyte summoned by her high priestess.
Ree placed her hands on the head of Zan Fey, who knelt before her in the sand and buried her head in the flesh of Ree’s belly.
“You too, Fitzwilliam,” said the Glaenwi.
Vetch’s jaw dropped as Fitz approached to receive his benediction from the high priestess of the Outer Torellian Commerce Guild.
“You irritate me,” Nyluga-Ree told her two acolytes. “Chronically. Nonetheless, you are my family.”
She nodded at Vetch, which sent a bad feeling down his spine. “He is not. But I understand that this man is your family. Therefore, I shall pay blood gold for Tchon and Kzeddiy.”
“Makes no difference,” Vetch told her.
“I expected no other reaction from you,” Ree replied. “I do this for me. I clear my decks, as you humans would say. I do this so I can focus my anger on…them!”
She hissed at the Corrupted milling about on the near side of the wall, watching the theatrics play out on the sand.
Vetch shook his head. He wanted no part of this freak family reunion. And the dust plume that had just appeared over the eastern horizon looked ominous. “Lily,” he said over the net, “my binocs are a casualty of war. What are we facing?”
He should really have addressed her as Lieutenant Hjon over a general channel, but she showed no sign of noticing.
“Three open bed trucks,” she replied. “Wheeled. Carrying around thirty humanoids. Grotesque ones. Especially the one who’s either wearing an exo-harness or has grown an extra pair of arms out of its shoulders.”
“While you troopers were sunning yourselves on Eiylah-Bremah,” said Bronze, “we fought a being like that in Flux City. It had been human but underwent a multi-stage mutation. Don’t be fooled by the imbecilic drones playing at being farmers. The creature we encountered was fast, strong, and intelligent. It’s come to kick us off its farm.”
“In that case…” said Vetch. “3Condax, do you copy?”
“I hear you, Sergeant Arunsen.”
“This whole setup was for your boss to stick his withered fingers into the Nyluga’s heart and rip it apart. Correct?”
“It is important that key players in the Federation understand the threat and choose to act.”
“Oh, I think Nyluga-Ree will act all right. But the message has been received and understood. No need to hang around.”
Ree interrupted. “I must bid my loved ones farewell.” She left Fitz and Zan Fey kneeling in the sand and set off again for the nearest hole through the white wall.
�
��Lily?” Vetch asked. “Do we have any takers for common sense?”
“Captain,” Lily asked, “what’s the play?”
“Arunsen,” Fitz said, “go with the Nyluga. You too, Verlys. Leave the rest to us. Trust me.”
Vetch sucked on his oxygen mask. Trust me was getting to be the captain’s catchphrase. Still, he supposed, he’d had far worse commanders in the Militia. At least the man seemed to care whether his troopers lived or died.
“Roger that,” Vetch said and jogged after Ree and Sinofar.
One of the tubs pulled up in front of him, spraying him with warm sand. Sybutu popped his head out of the driver’s position up front.
“Cheer up, Viking.” The jack flashed him a grin and threw Lucerne in the air.
Vetch caught her by the haft. The feel of his war hammer made his spirits soar. He could face anything if he could thump it with his hammer.
For the moment, though, that didn’t seem necessary. The three of them walked down the slope to the nearest hole through the wall. Vetch watched the nearby Corrupted like a hawk, but none appeared threatening, nor did they approach within twenty feet.
They were about ten feet from the arch when a Zhoogene stepped through from the far end, carrying a spade.
“Get back!” Vetch shouted at him.
The Zhoogene halted and stared at Vetch with confusion in his golden eyes. Then his head exploded, and he fell to the ground.
“Why did you do that?” Vetch asked Sinofar, who had deployed the lighter of her two weapons.
“They are already dead,” Sinofar replied. “It is important you understand that.”
He supposed she was right, but he didn’t like it.
They pushed on through and felt an immediate change in the environment. The air was warmer and richer here. He didn’t think he’d need his oxygen mask.
Ree hurried over to her wives.
The Corrupted versions of Das-Zee and Lyi-Niah snapped their heads to the sky and sniffed, just as Ree had done. The two missing parts of the trio walked to their would-be rescuer.
Smuggler Queen Page 22