by B. V. Larson
“Gary, I need to make my report to Turov. It’s kind of urgent, see?”
He blinked a few times, then he nodded and shook himself. “Good God, man. Why can’t you perform this kind of destruction out on some other planet?”
“Usually, I do. The explosion was… unfortunate.”
Gary announced me then, and after a full minute of quiet, the door clicked open. Galina didn’t poke her nose out, or even crook a finger at me. She just opened the door and left it ajar.
“Wish me luck,” I told Gary.
“Luck, McGill.”
-18-
When I got inside, I saw Galina had a pistol in one hand, and a glass of wine in the other. Her eyes were two angry slits.
“Uh… hiya, Tribune. Centurion McGill, reporting back on an assignment well done!”
Nothing about her demeanor changed. She was still glaring, still sipping her wine, and still propping up her finely-shaped rear on her desk.
I put on a dumb-ass expression and waited patiently.
“A job well done?” she asked at last, in a deceptively quiet and calm voice. “Is that what you call the devastation you’ve created, McGill?”
“Uh… well, I don’t rightly know about all that. See, I teleported out before there was any kind of explosion. What I was talking about was the case I was on. The now solved case involving the disappearances of both equipment and personnel. You’re gonna laugh when you hear—”
Galina threw her wine glass at me. That was kind of a surprise. A rude one. The glass shattered on my tunic and purple liquid ran down all the way to my shoes.
“I’m going to laugh, am I? Do you know how much cargo you destroyed, McGill?”
“Gary said something about fifty billion credits, but I didn’t believe him.”
“And well you shouldn’t. It was a full hold, they were just beginning to unload it. Total estimated losses came in at just over a trillion.”
“Wow! That is some fancy number-crunching. But you know, they probably padded things to rip off the insurance people.”
“This is a government, McGill. We’re self-insured.”
“Oh yeah… What’s self-insured mean?”
“It means that we’re screwed.”
“Oh… well, I guess the newsfeeds were kept in the dark about these big numbers, huh? At least that’s a good thing.”
“The truth was covered-up, yes, as always. But here at Central people know the real price tag. Do you know who they’re pinning the blame on? Can you guess?”
“Hmmm… That’s a poser. I can’t even think of anyone.”
“That’s right. It’s going to be me, and you, and Legion Varus—in that order. You’ve ruined us all, McGill. You finally managed to achieve total destruction of our reputations and livelihoods. That ship and its contents were worth more to Earth that two or three legions our size.”
“Huh… that does seem to classify as a crying shame, sir. You want to hear the details of my report now? Or do you just want to shoot me in the face and get it out of your system?”
She toyed with her gun for a while, but at last she shook her head. Her shoulders slumped in defeat. Sighing, she walked around to the far side of her desk.
I started talking, telling her my story, but I could tell she was only half-listening. I prattled about heading down to the docks and meeting up with Dross. She didn’t even perk up when I described meeting the crewmen and finding out they were in on the thefts.
While I talked, she brought up a news report with full video of the explosion, shot from multiple angles. She flicked it from her desk to the wall behind her, where it played in high def. The explosion, when it came—well damn, it was impressive.
The big ship I’d been aboard simply blew apart, starting deep amidships. The thick puff-crete hull split open on both sides. The explosion flowered outward with a gush of wild flame and smoke. Soon, the whole dock was consumed in fire, as was the warehouse. People ran every which way, but it didn’t look like many of them made it.
“Wow!” I exclaimed. “How the hell did that even happen?”
“You want to know the only reason you’re not a stain on my ruined carpet right now? It’s because I’m holding onto the faint hope you might tell me the answer to that exact question.”
“Ah… oh. I don’t rightly know, sir. Here’s what I do know: the crew was using a casting device to suck things out of the big containers and transmit them away. It was the perfect crime until I figured it out. But before I could arrest anyone, I got into an argument with about thirty of the ship’s crew, see, and—”
“And then you blew up the fucking ship?”
“No, sir! Not at all! I escaped, that’s all.”
She stared at me. She pointed a thin finger at the repeating explosion on the wall behind her. “How did you get out of that inferno?”
“I… I used their bootleg casting device. I got into the beam, and I ported out. Just like the gear they were stealing. I was sent out across the cosmos to their secret warehouses.”
Galina’s mouth was hanging open now. Not as far as Gary’s had been, mind you, but it was happening.
“Where did you go?”
“To Green World.”
“What?”
I reminded her about Green World. She had forgotten about the place, as it had been years since we’d sent anyone out there, and we didn’t have the direct coordinates to go there on our own. The last few times I’d been there, well, events had turned messy.
“Here, let’s have another glass of wine,” I told her, pressing a fresh glass into her hand. “My trip to Green World was just the beginning. This is kind of a longish story.”
She took the glass sourly and sipped it. She still had that pissed-cat look going on, but there was a hint of curiosity as well. “There’s more to this cock-and-bull tale of yours, hmm?”
“Yes, sir, there sure is. Now, some of these details might sound a little sketchy, but I assure you they’re as true as the Gospel on a Sunday morning.”
Galina released a bitter laugh. “I wouldn’t believe a word of this if I hadn’t seen footage of you entering that ship, and now arriving back here without a scratch on you. Teleportation is a valid excuse, but every microsecond of your story is highly suspect. For example, how is it these scruffy crewmen managed to have a casting device? The mere existence of the technology is top secret.”
“That’s truth, sir. But they had the device, all the same.”
“To perform relatively petty thefts? Why? If you have a casting device, you have the cash to just buy whatever you need.”
“Maybe, or maybe not. I saw a lot of interesting stuff. Most of it was military hardware, supplies, ammo, etc. Even survival gear and spacer suits.”
She frowned at me and stopped the video of the big explosion that was playing on a loop behind her. That was a sheer relief, as I was getting kind of tired of it.
She paged through various documents until she came to some of the original reports from Station Chief Dross and her agents. It was a compilation of missing items. She stared at the list, flicked through it with her fingers, and frowned while she studied the missing items.
“This does seem like an interesting collection. What would you do with all this stuff? Supply an expedition into the Arctic? Go on a hunt for big-game aliens?”
“Something like that. I think the gear is meant to be used in reconnaissance missions, maybe.”
“Recon? By whom, and for what purpose?”
I shrugged. “That part isn’t clear yet. I do have a witness, however, who might be able to shed some light on the topic.”
She stared at me for a moment. “Is that why you and Floramel brought back that freak lizard pet of hers?”
“Uh…” I said, surprised she already knew about Raash.
“What is it with that girl? Why can’t she ever have a human boyfriend?”
“I don’t rightly know. But anyways, that guy isn’t the one I was talking about. I have another
companion.”
Galina paused her paging through the reports again. “Another person? I don’t believe it. I looked through all your records, McGill. Those generated since your mystical return show no one other than Floramel and her pet.”
“That’s right. The other guy—well, he’s kind of dead, see.”
“What?”
I lifted my tapper arm and woke it up with my finger. “That’s right. He didn’t make it, so I copied his engrams and a body scan… here it is.”
She ignored my uplifted arm.
“What is this? Another revival scam? Who is it this time—your uncle from the swamp who died of sheer stupidity?”
“Huh? Oh… no, no, sir. This is an important person. Someone you probably will want to revive and talk to.”
“Who?” she demanded.
I smiled, knowing I had this fish on the hook.
“It’s none-other than Tribune Maurice Armel.”
For the second time in the span of a few minutes, Galina imitated my patented look of dropped-jaw astonishment.
-19-
“How did you get Armel’s scan?” she demanded.
I shrugged. “He gave it to me, see. Out at Rigel.”
“When?”
“Uh… three or four days ago... I think. Time is kind of blurry when you switch planets a bunch.”
She stared, then she blinked. “I’m not getting something here, McGill. You claim you were teleported out to Green World where you found a massive warehouse of stolen goods. Right?”
“Several warehouses, actually.”
“Great, whatever. How did you end up going from there to Rigel? According to our best estimates, the two planets aren’t even close.”
“No sir, they aren’t. Judging by dead-reckoning, I’d say they are somewhere between five hundred and a thousand lightyears apart.”
“Okay, so how did you make that trip?”
I squirmed a little. This part of the story had elements I didn’t want to reveal. For example, the part where Abigail had found me on Green World and shot me dead. That would both make Galina want to kill Abigail, and it might reveal the fact that I’d known all along the Clavers were involved in this fiasco. Galina might take a dim view of everything I’d already said if she knew that part.
“Someone shot me on Green World. Shot me dead.”
“Who?”
“I don’t rightly know,” I lied. “I was sneaking around, looking at the contents of the various warehouses, when I—”
Galina appeared to be paging through something privately on her desktop as I talked. Suddenly, she squawked and snatched up her gun again. She’d set it aside on the desk over the last few minutes, and I was hoping she’d forgotten about it.
“You lying bastard! I just found this in your body-cam files.”
She flicked the table, and the wall behind her lit up. There was Abigail, talking to me inside the Green World warehouse.
“Oh yeah! I remember now, I did meet Abigail out there, and we talked a bit.”
“Shut up. Stop spouting your filthy lies, or I won’t be able to keep from shooting you.”
“Um… okay. Sorry.”
“Shut up. Let me think.”
Galina paced around a little, tapping her pistol on her cheekbone. “I think I get it. At least some of it. The Clavers are helping to fund this illicit expedition, or whatever it is you discovered. Somehow, she captured you and sold you to Rigel. She’s tried that before, and I can hardly blame her for it.”
Deciding this story worked better than the truth, I sheepishly confessed she was on the right track.
“Okay then, we’re getting someplace. Your files were transmitted to Rigel, where you ran into Armel, yes?”
“That’s exactly right, sir. I was revived by Armel. He told me he wanted out of his mercenary contracts. He wanted to come back to Earth and serve here again.”
Galina snorted. “As if! Why would that fool dare to dream we would take him back? Why would he even want to return to Earth?”
“Well sir, he said something about believing Earth was going to win the coming conflict in the end.”
Galina blinked at me. “What conflict?”
I shrugged. “I don’t rightly know. It sounded like a rebellion, a revolution, a government coup—I don’t know. But it was something big, and Armel didn’t want any part of it.”
“Hmm… stolen equipment, a monstrous explosion in the harbor, possibly done to cover up this scheme, and now Armel wants forgiveness? All right, McGill. It does seem unreasonable to pin the entire explosion and subsequent fire on your back. It’s tempting, mind you, but it just doesn’t fit the facts. It’s not like you were caught at the firing controls of a ship’s broadside cannons again.”
“Not at all. I was nowhere on Earth when the Sea Empress blew up.”
She nodded. “Okay. This is good. We might be able to shift the blame off my legion’s back. It’s going to be up to us to find this Green World, track these thieves down and destroy them, if only to make up for the losses at the harbor.”
“A reasonable point of view, sir.”
She began to pace, and that made me watch her movements. Soon, I began to get ideas, but I couldn’t see any path to success. Not tonight, anyway.
“Go find some of your nerd friends and get them to track down where Green World might be. While you’re doing that, muster out your unit. Alert them that a mission is incoming very soon. With luck, you’ll have some accurate coordinates by morning.”
“Uh… coordinates, sir?”
“Yes. Dammit, McGill! Were you not listening again? Legion Varus must take out this nest of pirates on Green World. The brass here doesn’t want excuses, they want scalps, and it’s up to us to find some to give them besides our own.”
“Okay, but why am I getting the unit ready for action?”
Galina rolled her eyes at me. “You’ve been out to this mystery planet more than once, so you’re the obvious choice to spearhead a commando raid.”
“Oh… great. What are you going to do in the meantime tonight, if you don’t mind my asking?”
She gave me a suspicious look. “I’m not going to be entertaining you, if that’s what you’re hinting about.”
“What? I’d never suggest such a thing.”
“Of course you would. But it’s out of the question. I have a serious job to do, and it will probably take all night to finish it.”
“What serious job is that?”
She looked surprised, like I should know what she was thinking already. “Why, I’m going to revive Armel and torture him until I’ve extracted everything he knows about this farce, of course.”
“Got it. Good luck, sir…”
I left in a hurry, as she was busy and in a bad mood. When your officers are feeling itchy, it’s best to get out of the way.
Using my tapper, I alerted all the goons I could from my unit. The adjuncts were the key, along with certain noncoms. When a sudden summons went out over the grid, some of our people were known to hide for a bit. Technically, without a stated planet-wide emergency, they were allowed seventy-two hours to report in. Some of them abused this stipulation, playing hard to get for the first sixty or so of those long, long hours.
I didn’t want any of that crap tonight. Each member of my supporting staff was charged with keeping tabs on their direct underlings. It was kind of dirty, but our optional human-tracking apps were on our tappers for a reason. Personal calls, unit-wide announcements, activation-bonuses—we would use every tool and trick in our arsenal to get the troops to report by morning.
Unsurprisingly, Leeson and Harris were the biggest complainers. In the end, they fell into line and turned their frustrations into motivational chewing-out sessions for the troops below them. It was a process that was as old as time itself.
With that effort put in motion, I headed for a bar and had a few. After that, I contacted Natasha.
“Hey, girl. I see by your tapper you’re in town.”
<
br /> “Yes, Centurion. Most of the unit is in town. We were given our summons when the harbor blew up—this isn’t related to that, is it?”
“What? No, no, no. this is a social call. Why don’t you come down to the Mongoose on seventh?”
She looked up at me warily. “You want me to come drink with you? It’s Wednesday, James.”
“Is it? Doesn’t matter. We’ve got something important to talk about.”
“Like what? You’d better not be talking about your—”
“No, no, no. Nothing juvenile like that. I’m talking about finding a very important place. A place where you died once. Back when you were lost in time and space… I’m talking about the planet where you were permed.”
She stared at me, blinking in confusion. “I was never—oh. You don’t mean Green World, do you?”
“Shhh! Hush, girl. Come on down to the Mongoose, will you?”
Natasha hesitated, but it didn’t last long. She was as curious as a housecat in a pet store.
“All right. I’ll be there soon. Don’t get drunk before I show up, or I’m turning around immediately.”
“You’ve got a deal.”
I ordered two more drinks, and by the time they showed up, Natasha was walking in the door. It was nice to have friends with predictable interests and habits.
-20-
Natasha absorbed her drink and my story with equal interest. I told her about Green World and the smuggling and how I’d ended up out there. I didn’t bother to mention some of the less savory details, such as killing Raash and then later reviving him on Dust World with Floramel. That wouldn’t have gone over, as the two women didn’t like each other much.
“So… you really think this smuggling group is behind the explosion in the harbor? You think they’d perform such an act of insane vandalism just to cover their tracks?”
I blinked at her. Natasha was pretty naive for a Legion Varus girl. She still thought people were better than totally selfish bastards—or at least that some of them were. I didn’t bother to set her straight, I just shook my head and pretended to be sad.
“It’s a crying shame, isn’t it? But it makes sense to me. Whoever it was who ran the op probably figured the secret would get out, so they blew up the ship and the entire crew. That way, they might be able to keep pulling the scam later on when things quieted down.”