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Dead Men Don't Disco

Page 13

by Michael Campling


  “Highly unlikely,” Zeb replied. “Their sensors will tell them exactly what we’re shooting at.”

  “I don’t know.” Dex scratched his chin. “It will cause some confusion, that’s for sure. They might see it as a show of strength, but that’s no bad thing. I’d hate for them to guess that we’re not battle-ready. That would be catastrophic.”

  “Agreed,” Zeb said. “I’ll get the target buoys ready. Let me know when we’re in position.”

  Dex slapped him on the back. “Good work, Lieutenant Commander.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Zeb grinned, but as he watched Dex head back to the helm, his smile slipped away. I’m really not sure if this plan will work, he decided. There are a range of possible outcomes, and most of them are bad.

  Nailsea interrupted his thoughts. “Got it, sir. I have the seasoning, er, the countermeasures committed to memory, shall I run through the menu now?”

  Zeb nodded. “Definitely. I think we may need to use them very soon.”

  CHAPTER 21

  Gloabon Space Station The Gamulon – Earth Orbit

  From the tactical station on the bridge, Captain Jamangle called out, “Admiral! Enemy ship approaching. The Kreltonian Skull is breaking away from the Andel-Kreit battle group.”

  Fleet Admiral Squernshall sat upright in his chair. “Do we have a weapons lock on them?”

  “Affirmative, Admiral,” Jamangle replied, “but they do not have a lock on us.”

  “What are they playing at?” Squernshall demanded. “Are they signaling their surrender?”

  Jamangle hesitated. “No, sir. They have their shields up, so they’re unreachable on comms. Wait, they’re coming about. It appears that they are placing themselves directly between our position and their own battle group.”

  “Getting ready to give us a broadside, eh?” Squernshall rubbed his hands together. “Set a torpedo to target their main engines.”

  “Aye, Admiral, but they still haven’t locked their weapons on us.” Jamangle’s voice grew suddenly urgent. “Sir, they’ve launched a device. Analyzing.”

  “Could be a probe,” Squernshall said. “Lock a cannon on it. On my mark, open fire.”

  “Cannon locked, but analysis shows that the target is an unarmed buoy similar to the type we use for practice.”

  Squernshall’s eyes narrowed. “Could they be spoofing our sensors?”

  “No, Admiral. Neither the Andelians nor the Kreitians have that technology.”

  “Don’t underestimate them!” Squernshall snapped. “Destroy the probe. Fire.”

  “Cannon…oh.” Jamangle’s hands darted over the control pads. “Admiral, the target is no longer there. The Kreltonian Skull destroyed it with their own cannons. I…I don’t understand. They’re launching another buoy, identical to the first. Our sensors indicate that their weapons are already locked onto it.”

  Squernshall growled quietly. “They must’ve put a new team of officers aboard that ship. The person in command must have nerves of pure titanium. We’re sitting here, fully armed and prepared for battle, and they’re taking time out to play games.”

  “Admiral, once again, they have destroyed their own buoy.” Jamangle arched his eyebrows. “A single shot from a cannon. Given the buoy’s velocity, that’s an impressive feat of marksmanship.”

  Squernshall ground his teeth together. “They’re putting on a show, trying to intimidate us. But two can play at that game. Prepare to launch practice buoys. I want spreads of five at a time. Let them travel for a minute before taking them out and use cannons only. No guided missiles.”

  “Understood, Admiral, preparing target buoys.” Jamangle cleared his throat. “Sir, with the greatest of respect, I must point out that in order to hit the buoys, I’ll have to remove the existing target locks from our cannons.”

  “I know that!” Squernshall roared. “It’s a risk we’ll have to take. I will not stand by and do nothing while the Andelians make fools of us. If they want to see a display of strength, then we’ll give them one.”

  “Aye, Admiral. Buoys launched. Cannons ready.”

  “Very good,” Squernshall said with a grin. “Wait for my mark. We can’t make this too easy for ourselves. We want to make it look good.”

  “Cannons set to single shot,” Jamangle replied smartly. “Awaiting your order.”

  Squernshall held up his hand, the seconds ticking away as the tension on the bridge grew. And then finally, he punched the air. “Fire!”

  “Firing now, sir.” Jamangle smiled. “All buoys have been destroyed.”

  “Again!” Squernshall cried. “Ten buoys this time.”

  “Buoys launched. Cannons locked.” Jamangle’s face fell. “Dammit! The Skull fired first. They took out one of our buoys before I could even get a lock on it.”

  “What?” Squernshall leaped to his feet. “We’ll put a shot across their bows! No, wait! We’ll give them a wound to teach them a lesson. Target non-critical areas and launch missiles. Give me a spread of six. Fire when ready.”

  “Targeting now, Admiral.” Jamangle looked up. “What about our buoys?”

  “To hell with them! Get those missiles launched!” Squernshall threw himself into his chair. “Show me The Skull on screen. I want to watch it burn.”

  He glared up as an image of the great ship appeared on the main screen. “Let’s see what you do now,” he whispered. “Let’s see exactly what you’re made of.”

  CHAPTER 22

  Earth

  In the backseat of the limousine, Rawlgeeb grabbed hold of Doctor Cooper’s arm. “Did you see that?”

  “The flash of light? Yes.” Cooper exhaled heavily. “And that sound. It can only have been one thing.”

  Rawlgeeb nodded solemnly.

  “What was it?” Maisie demanded. “Are they in danger? Should we go in there?”

  “I don’t know,” Cooper replied. “Someone just used an extractor beam. That’s Gloabon tech, but it can’t have been Surrana. Only a powerful craft could’ve deployed it.”

  “But, I didn’t hear a plane or a helicopter,” Maisie protested. “You must be mistaken.”

  Rawlgeeb and Cooper exchanged a look. “A stealth saucer,” Rawlgeeb said. “There’s no other explanation.” He made to get up from his seat. “You’d better all stay in the car. I’ll go and see what’s happened.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Maisie began, but Rawlgeeb cut her off with a raised hand.

  “No, Maisie. I mean it. Stay here. Extractor beams can be…messy.” Maisie paled, and Rawlgeeb couldn’t bear to meet her eye. His expression grim, he climbed out of the car, closing the door behind him. I really shouldn’t be doing this, he thought, but he started walking, heading for the alley’s brooding mouth, his jaw clenched, his hands buried deep in his coat pockets. He was so intent on moving forward that, at first, he didn’t hear the roar of a large vehicle coming from behind him, the sound growing rapidly louder.

  Rawlgeeb spun around, staring as an armored truck screeched to a halt. Its rear doors burst open, and a dozen dark figures leaped out onto the street. Their faces were hidden behind tinted visors, their bodies bulked out by projectile-proof combat gear, and their assault weapons were held ready.

  Without a word, they streamed toward Rawlgeeb, and he raised his hands, palms outward, in what he hoped was the human gesture of surrender. You should know, he scolded himself, but his mind reeled with a hundred useless questions such as: Why me? Why now? And why is that armored vehicle such an odd color? In all his years at the Academy of Human Interaction, the lessons had never covered a situation where he might be required to face a squad of heavily armed humans. Maybe I was ill that day, he decided. But no, that was another foolish thought. In truth, he’d always been happy to leave the rough stuff to the lower ranks. For years, his weapons of choice had been a tablet computer, a restrictor band, and an overbearing manner. Those tools had served him well, but now, he’d give anything for a decent parton pistol. What would Brent do? he wondered, t
hen pushed the thought from his mind. Brent had an idiosyncratic way of dealing with difficult situations, and unfortunately, it usually amounted to making them a great deal worse in a vain attempt to shake things up.

  I could try to bluff my way out of this, Rawlgeeb told himself. The humans won’t know I’ve been banished. He took a deep breath as two of the troops stopped in front of him, but before he could say a word, the armed men lowered their weapons and lifted their visors.

  “Mr. Rawlgeeb, sir,” one of them barked. “I’m Captain Levinson and this is Sergeant Carter. We’re with the Special Operations Wing of GIT. Mr. Halbrook sends his compliments. We’re here to escort you back to the compound.”

  “Oh, so that’s why you’re little truck is bright blue,” Rawlgeeb said, a giddying wave of relief flooding his mind. “I should’ve guessed.”

  “Sir, please step inside our vehicle,” Levinson said as if Rawlgeeb hadn’t spoken. “We’ll make sure you get to GIT safely.”

  “Wait a minute,” Rawlgeeb replied. “My friends are in that side-street. I have to check they’re all right.”

  “My squad are ensuring their safety, sir. The car will bring your friends along presently. They’ll follow us back to base.”

  Rawlgeeb folded his arms. “You don’t understand. There’s a…a very dangerous Gloabon down there. I think she may have fired an extractor beam.”

  The two men exchanged a look, Carter shaking his head.

  “Wait a second. What’s going on?” Rawlgeeb asked. “How did you even know we were here?”

  Levinson said, “Sir, we are not authorized to give details of our operation, but the Gloabon individual has been removed and contained. If you want to know anything more, I suggest you try asking Mr. Halbrook.”

  “We do have this for you, sir,” Carter said, pulling a handset from his pocket and offering it to Rawlgeeb.

  Rawlgeeb took the handset and saw that there was an incoming call. “Should I answer this?”

  Both men nodded, shifting their grip on their weapons as though they’d dearly like to use them to beat some sense into him.

  “I won’t be a minute,” Rawlgeeb said, taking a step back from the men before accepting the call.

  Mark Halbrook’s face appeared on the screen. “Rawlgeeb, thank God you’re safe. I’m sure you must have questions.”

  “You could say that,” Rawlgeeb admitted. “Right now, number one on the list is, why are these men insisting that I go back to GIT with them?”

  “I’ve been working to reinstate your citizenship, Rawlgeeb. Things are underway.” Halbrook smiled. “Fleet Admiral Squernshall has personally requested your presence on The Gamulon. He wants to see you as soon as possible.”

  Rawlgeeb’s hand went to his chest, his fingers fluttering over his breastbone. “That was fast work. Am I going to get zinged up from here?”

  Halbrook hesitated, and Rawlgeeb thought he saw a glimmer of uncertainty in the man’s eyes. “We can’t reach The Gamulon at the moment. There’s some kind of comms difficulty, so the zinger is out of action. But don’t worry—we’ll take you up in one of our executive shuttles. That’s why we need you here immediately. We have a shuttle standing by.”

  “Wow, that sounds great.” Rawlgeeb couldn’t conceal his broad grin. He’d only ridden in a shuttle on a few special occasions, and he’d never even been inside a luxury model. I wonder if Breamell will see me arrive, he wondered. It’s a shame that I can’t get in touch and tell her I’m on my way.

  “Okay, Rawlgeeb, I’ll see you soon,” Halbrook said. “Keep that handset for now. We might need to stay in touch.”

  The screen went dark, and Rawlgeeb pocketed the handset, turning back to Levinson and Carter. “All right, gentlemen, let’s go.” He eyed the armored vehicle. “Do I get to ride up front?”

  “No, sir,” Levinson replied. “For your own safety, Sergeant Carter will escort you in the main compartment.”

  “We’re waiting on our other passenger,” Carter put in, a disapproving tone creeping into his already stern voice. “Let me check on that.” He tilted his head as though listening to something that only he could hear, then the corner of his mouth lifted in a grim smile. “The suspect is in the bag. We can get ready to move out.”

  “Suspect?” Rawlgeeb asked. “I thought you said that the Gloabon had already been taken away.”

  “You’ll see,” Levinson replied. “Here he comes now.”

  Rawlgeeb looked around as two of the GIT squad emerged from the alley, a third person held between them, the man’s hands cuffed. “You’re arresting Mr. Martellini? Can you do that?”

  “Sir, our operations are officially approved, if that’s what you’re asking,” Levinson said smoothly. “We have a remit to apply certain sanctions, ratified by both the UN and the Gloabon Government. We work to a strict set of guidelines, and there are a whole heap of them. You’d scarcely believe it.”

  “Oh, yes I would,” Rawlgeeb said. “I worked for my government for many years.” He smiled, but even so, that word guidelines touched a nerve. In the Gloabon language, there was no difference between a guideline and a law; both were set in stone. On Earth, the situation was somewhat different: rules could always be redrawn. Indeed, whenever a new law was passed on Earth, there was always another, subtly different version following hard on its heels. He’d once tried to explain the term repeal to a colleague, but he’d given up. There was simply no way to translate the idea in a way that most Gloabons would understand.

  “This way, sir,” Carter said, placing his hand on Rawlgeeb’s back and urging him toward the waiting vehicle.

  “Okay,” Rawlgeeb said, and he let himself be led inside.

  ***

  When they reached GIT’s executive hub, Rawlgeeb was escorted to the VIP lounge by Captain Levinson, and he found Mark Halbrook waiting for him. Halbrook extended his hand for a shake. “Rawlgeeb, thanks for coming so promptly.”

  Rawlgeeb squeezed the man’s hand. “That’s all right. To be honest, I’m not sure I had a choice.”

  Halbrook’s laughter was forced and hollow. “What a rogue you are, my friend.” He pulled his hand free. “Yes, what a sense of humor. It’s extraordinary.” He nodded to Levinson. “Thank you, Captain, you can leave us now. Send the suspect for processing immediately and then make the preparations as discussed.”

  “Yes, sir,” Levinson said, then he marched from the room.

  “What’s going to happen to Jerry Martellini?” Rawlgeeb asked. “He seemed in a bad way. He only said a few words to me on the ride over here, and most of them were unrepeatable.”

  “I’m told that he got into a fight with a couple of your friends. For a man in his position, that was a very stupid thing to do.”

  “And what is his position?” Rawlgeeb asked pointedly. “We know that he obtained some medication for the assassin, but that wasn’t illegal, was it?”

  Halbrook looked thoughtful for a moment. “The way he did it, it certainly wasn’t lawful. He used bribery and deceit to lay his hands on medications that are still undergoing trials. Depending on how you look at it, that could be regarded as a simple theft or an act of industrial espionage. We’re considering a range of legal options to ensure that we’re adequately compensated for all the inconvenience he’s caused us.” His smile grew brighter as if nothing pleased him better than the prospect of a protracted legal wrangle. “We’ve been monitoring Martellini’s communications and movements for some time. I’m sure you understand.”

  “I’m guessing that your people used Gloabon technology to track him,” Rawlgeeb said. “Do they know about that on The Gamulon?”

  “Our partners are always very supportive,” Halbrook replied. “Suffice to say that if we want to keep tabs on someone, we have the means at our disposal. And when a crook like Martellini tries to steal from us, we take it very seriously. On the plus side, Martellini did you a favor. When Doctor Cooper begged for a sample of the new implants, he gave us enough information to link the r
equest to Martellini. We placed a tracking device on the implant, and then we had our Special Ops people standing by and ready to move in.” He affected a caring expression. “You have to understand that, from our point of view, this was starting to look like a back-street drug deal. I was concerned that you’d been dragged into something…unpleasant.”

  Rawlgeeb grunted. “Being hunted by an assassin wasn’t a bundle of laughs. But you couldn’t have known about that. How did you manage to snatch her? Was it you who fired that extractor beam? That was an extractor beam I saw, wasn’t it?”

  “It certainly was,” Halbrook admitted. “And you’re right, we didn’t know about the assassin, but our people were watching the whole thing, and they’re good at what they do. When they saw a threat, they acted to save lives.” He looked Rawlgeeb in the eye. “It was a good thing for you and your friends that we stepped in.”

  Rawlgeeb hesitated. “Yes. Yes, thank you for that. Are you going to hand Surrana over to the Gloabons?”

  “We’ll worry about that later,” Halbrook said quickly. “In the meantime, we have to send you up to The Gamulon. The Fleet Admiral was very keen to meet with you in person.”

  “Are the comm links still out?”

  “I’m afraid so, Rawlgeeb. You’ll have to take the shuttle, but we have it all ready for launch. I’m sorry about the delay, but it’s the best we can offer at the moment, I’m afraid.”

  “Never mind, I’m sure I’ll cope.” Rawlgeeb tried very hard not to grin. “I guess I ought to wait for my colleagues. I presume they’ll be traveling with me.”

  “No, they can wait here,” Halbrook replied. “They weren’t invited onto the space station, so let’s keep things simple. But don’t worry–they’ll be well looked after while you’re gone.”

  Rawlgeeb nodded. “In that case, let’s go.”

  “I’ll have the Special Ops people take you over.” He flashed Rawlgeeb a smile. “Now that we’ve worked together, I think of you as one of the team, Rawlgeeb. And at GIT, we take care of our people.” He pulled out a handset and murmured something into it before returning it to his pocket.

 

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