by B. V. Larson
Sure, they had to find out the truth. But maybe they could do it in a way that didn’t involve my being castrated, or permed, or something heinous like that.
Before I could come up with anything, the door opened. Galina turned toward it, raising her upper lip into a snarl. I pitied whatever lost cabin-boy had dared to enter.
“I left strict orders to—oh! Praetor Drusus?”
She scrambled to her feet, and the rest of us did the same. We stood at attention until he stepped inside, closed the door, and told us to sit down at ease.
Drusus himself didn’t sit down. Instead, his eyes swept the group. He didn’t look very happy. Maybe he already knew some of the details of our latest fiasco.
“Turov, make your report,” he ordered.
“Of course. You’re early, sir, and we were just discussing how we were going to brief you on our highly successful raid of Green World.”
He put his hands on his hips and gave us all the evil eye. “How about you just tell me the plain truth? You brought a trillion credits worth of shipping and manpower out here to Green World, and you found nothing.”
“That’s not exactly true, Praetor. We found the base we were looking for. We destroyed it, but not without taking some unique prisoners first.”
“Unique, eh? Yes, I saw your kennel full of dog-men. They don’t even speak—nothing that we can interpret, anyway. All the Clavers and other aliens were dead or absent by the time our troops landed and took the island.”
His baleful eyes slid to me again. Unlike the others, I wasn’t hunkered down and wincing. I was sprawled out in my chair. I felt an urge to yawn, but I suppressed it with difficulty.
“McGill? What were you about to tell the group before I arrived?”
I blinked a few times, but then I realized that Drusus must have been listening in on us somehow. The others looked stunned, too.
My lips smiled of their own accord. Of course Drusus could listen in. these other pukes could do it to low-ranked people. They did it all the time—especially Galina. She was the worst offender.
But now, the shoe was on the other foot. There were no secrets to be kept from a man with Drusus’ high rank.
“Well sir, that’s not a happy tale.”
“Out with it, McGill.”
“Well, maybe—and I do mean maybe, sir. That’s what I want to point out. Everything swirling in my head is pure conjecture, see. I just thought it might be worth mentioning to an appropriately affected group like this one.”
Drusus crossed his arms and so did Graves. They both knew that when I put a ton of qualifiers on something, it meant there was a horrible chunk of news coming their way. It was like when you get a bad piece of steak at a restaurant, and they slather on the sauce like there’s no tomorrow.
“Out with it, McGill. What could be worse than having to retreat from this campaign with nothing to show for it?”
“Uh… maybe… well, what if we didn’t have a way to retreat? Like… at all.”
They all stared at me for about a second and a half.
“What did you do?” Galina demanded loudly.
Drusus waved her back into her chair. He approached me, stalking me like a lion sneaking up on a gazelle.
“McGill… what are you trying to say?”
“Well sir, there’s a problem. See, the Clavers… they know that Dominus snuck through the border. They know we spoofed the security.”
“How in the hell did they find out about that?” Drusus demanded. His voice was rising, and that wasn’t a good sound for him. He rarely shouted, and by the sound of it, I thought maybe I knew why now. He tended to get kind of high-pitched.
“I don’t rightly know,” I lied. “They might have figured it out themselves. I mean, maybe the approach of such a large ship could have been reported to them from the border. They knew what stars we would pass by while coming here from Earth—it’s not rocket science.”
“No…” Drusus said, pacing his way around the table. “It’s not rocket science, it’s basic astronavigation…”
He stopped pacing, and turned on me. “What other theories do you have?”
“About how they found out? Oh… well, maybe someone told them.”
“Like who?”
I shrugged. “I don’t rightly know. All I know is that Abigail mentioned it to me. She said they would warn the Skay monitors. Those little Skay ships, you know?”
“Yes, yes, I know. Go on.”
“Well sir, that’s about it. I was stuck in my cell getting pissed on by ornery dogs most of the time.”
“You didn’t strike up a relationship with Abigail?” he asked.
They all looked at me suspiciously. I had a certain well-deserved reputation with the ladies. Galina in particular appeared interested in my answer.
I lifted my hand to my heart and placed my other hand on an imaginary bible before me. “No, sir! I swear, as God is my witness, I got no sugar from that ice-cold woman. She barely talked to me, not until Dominus appeared in the sky and scared her shitless. Then, she dragged me out of my cell and tried to leave the island with me.”
“So… they knew we were coming, but they didn’t know when. That means they didn’t get the report from the border. The Skay told them nothing.”
“Uh…” I said, seeing the logic of his thinking. That made me a little nervous. I’d thrown out two lies, and they’d already blown up the first one. To a man like me, being down to one thin lie was dangerous territory.
Drusus kept pacing and thinking. He was scary-smart sometimes.
“No,” he said at last. “I think your other theory must be correct. They were warned, and they had the critical detail that we were spoofing their security. I can only think of one man who knows these crucial details, and who is of highly questionable character.”
At this point, I was starting to sweat. A lesser man might have broken down and confessed. He might have cried to his mommy, begged for forgiveness, and made up some other bullshit about being tortured or something.
But that wasn’t my way. Instead, I contrived to look as retarded as possible. My face went slack, my eyes were big, round and clueless. It was my last line of defense.
That seemed to work. Everyone was watching Drusus—but a few were eyeing Winslade.
Winslade seemed to notice this, so he stood up and pointed a finger at Drusus. “I’ve got it. I know exactly who you’re thinking of, Praetor!”
“Who’s that, Winslade?” Galina asked.
“One ex-tribune known as Maurice Armel. It all fits. He knew we’d spoofed the border guards, because he gave us the codes. Maybe this entire fiasco has been a monstrous ruse.”
“What are you talking about?” Drusus asked.
“Think about it. McGill is fooled into thinking Armel is his friend. He just wants to come back to Earth. We all fall for it—don’t say you didn’t. Then, he gives us the magic key to come here like fools. McGill scouts and sees a pile of stolen gear, but he sees no troops to speak of.”
Drusus shook a finger at Winslade and nodded. His face broke, as if he’d seen the light at last. “Of course. We’re all fools. We’ve been tricked into coming out here—this is no accident. It was a setup, right from the start.”
I looked from one of them to the next with growing satisfaction. Of course, I kept my face slack and stupid, but inside I was all grins. They were off and running in the wrong direction.
“We have to question him,” Winslade said. “I’ll do it personally, sir—and don’t worry. I won’t go easy on him. I’m no bleeding heart.”
“I should say not,” Galina said with her lips twisted in disgust.
“All right,” Drusus answered after a moment’s thought. “Normally, I wouldn’t condone such a thing, but I’m not sure how big this trap might be.”
“Uh…” I said, unable to keep my big mouth shut any longer, “I think we do know the scope of it, sir. They tricked us into coming out here in order to trap Earth’s finest. If Dominus i
s unable to go home, if we’re destroyed, it would make a lot of alien folks happy.”
“That’s true McGill, but you’re thinking too small. What if this is a setup to create a border skirmish? An excuse for the Skay to invade Province 921—to invade Earth?”
My fool mouth hung open after hearing that idea, and it wasn’t even an act.
-40-
I quickly volunteered to accompany Winslade while he arrested Armel. This was partly to get out of the meeting early, but also to see that things didn’t get too out of hand. After all, there was a pretty good chance Armel was innocent—to my mind, it was almost a certainty.
Winslade took my offer the wrong way. “Itching for a little pay-back, eh McGill? Well, I for one don’t blame you. Fair warning: it’s likely to get ugly before I’m through with this traitorous French fop.”
“Heh…”
I followed him down long passages. We found Armel with our tappers, and they led us right to him.
He was on Lavender Deck, a zone normally restricted to passengers and crew. As he wasn’t technically a member of Earth’s armed forces, they didn’t want him lurking around the modules.
Down here on Lavender, things were pretty nice. They had a public area with sports rings for null-gravity exercise, and three bars. We checked these first.
He was holding down a barstool in the second place we barged into. A lady with an odd complexion sat beside him, listening to all his bullshit stories of glory and fortune. She looked like a stray Edge Worlder to me—they were kind of easy to bamboozle.
We walked up and stood to either side of him. Armel noticed us right away. He was a little tipsy, but that was normal for him. His blood-type was always somewhere between beer and a bottle of brandy.
“Gentlemen! Are you here to congratulate your benefactor? Perhaps a commendation is in order, is it not?”
“And how, pray tell, have you come to such a conclusion?”
“Because, my good Winslade, I did everything I promised. I led this expedition with unerring speed and navigation. We penetrated the Skay defenses with ease, and we destroyed the enemy with great expediency.”
“We did nothing of the kind. In fact, we were duped and led into a dangerous political trap.”
Armel’s eyes flashed, but he also looked concerned. The girl he’d been chatting up sensed the shift in mood, and she exited the scene right-quick. That was the Shadowlander way. They either fought to the death or vanished on you. Apparently, Armel wasn’t yet worthy of any kind of struggle on her part.
“Has something gone wrong?” he asked.
“McGill, arrest this vagrant traitor.”
With a sigh, I snapped a gravity cuff on Armel’s wrist. He didn’t resist. Instead, he looked me in the eye. “Does your word mean so little, McGill?”
Winslade interposed his narrow skull between the two of us. “McGill’s promises were based on you acting in good faith. Come along. McGill, bring the prisoner. We’re going down to the brig.”
Armel managed to swig a last gulp of his drink, then came along with us. He wasn’t sputtering and demanding that we explain our actions. He was too clever for that. Instead, he was eyeing us both intently.
He asked a few probing questions, but Winslade waited until we had him down at the brig before he offered any answers.
“A private room, please,” he told the jailors.
“Ah, Sub-Tribune Winslade. It’s been a while, sir. Right this way.”
We were led to a cell which was unlocked. We stepped through, and the rattling door was slammed behind us.
“Hmm…” Armel said, eyeing the shiny stainless steel chair in the middle of the chamber. “This doesn’t look like the penthouse I was expecting.”
“Take a seat, please,” Winslade told him.
Armel made a break for it. He cuffed Winslade—but the weasel dodged it. Then, he tried to slip past me. I shot out a long leg with a hook-like ankle at the end of it. Armel went sprawling.
We tossed him into the chair, and Winslade hummed to himself while he worked the various clamps and buckles. “There we are. I trust you’re comfortable.”
“Smug barbarian. At least tell me why you’re doing this? Or is it true that Varus people are all cackling demons at heart.”
“Now, now, don’t get yourself worked up. We’re here to ask a few questions, that’s all. At the beginning of each question, there will be an incentive applied. When you’re all out of viable options for this process, things will get nasty.”
“Incentives? What are you talking about?” Armel watched in alarm as Winslade produced a black velvet bag. The bag rolled open to reveal a variety of tools. There were scissors, scalpels, long-handled wire cutters and even a small bone-saw.
“McGill!” Armel said, and he sounded plaintive indeed. “Tell him I played you fairly, man!”
“Winslade,” I said. “As far as I know, Armel is innocent of all accusations. There’s no proof he had anything to do with trapping Dominus in enemy territory.”
“No proof? Come now, McGill. You made the argument yourself. Don’t go soft on me.”
“Ah!” Armel boomed. “I get it. I’m to be blamed for foolishness on the part of Earth’s leadership? Is that it?”
“The enemy knew we were coming, Armel,” Winslade said. “We’ve established that. They had enough time to pack up and move on. We caught nothing other than a few of their pathetic mutants.”
“The dog-people? The rest were gone?”
“That’s right. Now, to the first incentive.”
There was a sudden, snipping sound. Armel howled and squirmed.
“There you go. Nothing much, just a little sting to sharpen the mind.”
“My toe is off, man! You ghoul!”
“Don’t worry. We’ll print out a new Armel if everything goes as planned. For now, however, here is the promised question: when did you contact the enemy and tell them Dominus was about to run the Skay border?”
“What? I never did that. You must believe me, Sub-Tribune!”
Winslade gave a little sigh and made a tsking sound. The snips clacked again, and I winced. Armel screeched and struggled in his bounds. One of his pinky fingers was missing.
“Take notes, McGill,” Winslade told me. “Did you see that? I switched it up. I’m not into working the same boring toes one after another. All too soon, the subject will become accustomed to the discomfort. If they never know where you’re going to strike next, however, the mind stays sharp.”
“That’s all very well and good, sir—”
“Listen up and you might learn something. A man like this has twenty-nine ‘edits’ you can easily make by removing appendages and protrusions.”
“Uh… twenty-nine, sir?”
“That’s right, including the ears, nose and nipples.”
“Oh…”
Armel didn’t look happy with our little discussion. “You monsters! You haven’t even asked me a second question yet.”
“You’re correct,” Winslade told him. “But we don’t really have that many questions. Far fewer than we have parts to remove. Still, I’ll reward your powers of observation with a second chance at the last one.”
“I didn’t contact anyone. How could I? Check your deep-link logs, fool. Run scans on my tapper. I’ve been wandering this Lavender Deck for days in boredom.”
“Offering yourself up to any female who might listen, I’m sure. But I have to give you credit, that’s almost an answer. You’re saying you told them before we boarded Dominus. Hmm…”
Armel caught my eye again. “McGill. Tell him. Do what is right.”
Winslade’s eyes slid from his red-smeared tools toward me.
“Tell me what?” he asked.
Putting on a show of squirming a bit, I sidestepped so that I was standing over Armel. “Well sir, there’s a bit more to the story of my involvement with this man than I might have explained clearly.”
“How’s that?” Winslade crossed his skinny arms and
gazed up at me with suspicion.
That’s when Armel drew my pistol from my holster and shot Winslade. The smaller man went down in a smoking heap.
Armel directed the gun at me next. Blood dribbled from his injured hand, but his aim was steady enough.
“Whoa!” I said, putting up my palms and pretending to be surprised. “How did you get my weapon out of my holster?”
“You pressed it against my hand.”
“Did I really? That was a very stupid mistake.”
Armel’s eyes rolled as he thought about his predicament. “I didn’t actually expect it to fire. Don’t these things have biometric identifiers on them?”
“Uh… I must have forgotten to turn that on.”
Armel looked at me thoughtfully. “You set this up? I thank you.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Maurice.”
“Of course not. But what am I to do now, McGill? Shoot my way out of this detention center?”
“I wouldn’t recommend that. There must be thirty guards on the other side of that door.”
Armel nodded. He had the face of a hunted animal. “All right, look, I’m leaving the ship now. I hadn’t planned on doing so yet, but this changes everything.”
“Uh… how’s that?”
“Winslade figured it out, fool. This entire thing was a trap. A way to start a border skirmish with the Skay.”
My heart sank. “You don’t say? That’s… uh… kind of a surprise.”
Armel’s mustache twitched on his face. “You thought you were saving an innocent man from torment, didn’t you? That is most kind, James. I won’t shoot you—unless you want me to.”
“Uh… no thanks.”
“Very well. You’ll find my engrams have been corrupted in the ship’s data core. They can revive me if they want to, but the Armel they produce will be a drooling idiot.”
“So… all this really was an elaborate trick?”
“Yes, but it was only partly successful. We’d hoped for more than one ship to come out here and attack. That would have been far superior.”
“There’s no attack coming on Earth, then? No rebellion? No army of angry misfits coming to Earth for vengeance?”