Honor the Threat

by Kevin Ikenberry

  Why would Hak-Chet pass it back to me? Their guild surely knows what it is.

  Does he think I’ll need it?

  The airlock opened into the chilly passageway that followed the rugged lunar surface away from Tycho Crater. The floors here weren’t magnetic like those in the main station, so he had to deal with the one-sixth gravity. He bounced down the long, sloping passage with small leg movements and the occasional gentle push off a wall or ceiling to maintain control. On the plain, the passageway floor attracted his shoes again, and he resumed the hesitating, shambling walk of a Human in connected shoes.

  Snowman found his corridor, turned into the passageway toward the private berths, and met a young Asian man who smiled. Dressed in dirty gray coveralls with a yellow engineer’s stripe down the sleeves, he pushed off the bulkhead he’d leaned against and said, “Snowman.”

  At first, his brain didn’t register who the young man was. In microseconds, years peeled away from the face, and the young man’s identity came flashing back to him. “Ryu Misaki?”

  “The same.” Ryu adjusted a large backpack slung from one shoulder and laughed.

  Snowman opened his arms, and the young man embraced him. “How in the world are you? How are your parents?”

  “They are well. I’m sure they would want me to say hello.”

  They released each other, and Snowman stepped back to look at the young man. He was a perfect composite of his parents. Jun Amato, Ryu’s mother, had served as Snowman’s first cislunar navigator as a young woman straight from the University of Tokyo. The boy’s father, Yuichi Misaki, had been a flight school classmate at Perth. The last time he’d seen Ryu, the boy had been eleven years old. Fifteen years ago, the Misaki family moved from Earth to one of the Human colonies in the Cimaron region. They’d talked about finding their way in the big deep.

  “What are you doing here? I thought you were—”

  Ryu shook his head. “Mother and father returned to Earth. Father’s academy roommate flew them there on his private ship. The situation in the outer regions is too dangerous for us to live out there, unprotected.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  Ryu nodded and curled one side of his mouth under. “Our colony was attacked for the first time a month ago. Nobody had any idea who it was, until we saw the mercenaries we’d hired to protect us actually setting the fires. Others would fire into the colony from high ground. Most of it was harmless, just harassment, until they started targeting us one by one. They killed families on excursions and others in their homes for no reason at all. We fled.”

  Snowman nodded, but the knot in his stomach grew tighter. Things were going to hell in a handbasket. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m looking to sign on with a unit and go back out there.” Ryu’s face contorted with anger. The boy had made it personal, and that was never a good reason to go into a unit. “Those shit-eaters killed my girlfriend for sport.”

  Snowman reached out and put a heavy hand on Ryu’s shoulder. “No. You’re coming with me.”

  “No! I want to kill those bastards, Snowman!”

  Snowman stepped closer and lowered his chin. His voice low and steady, he stared at Ryu’s furious, scared eyes. “Listen to me, Ryu. Really listen to me. I’m going out there to help a friend who’s in trouble. If you’re half as good at orbital calculations as your mother, and half as good a pilot as your father, you have a spot on my crew. I owe them that much. If you change your mind after this mission and want to sign up with a…traditional merc unit, that’s your choice. You’re not going to go out half-cocked and get your ass killed on my watch.”

  Ryu’s eyes misted over. He blinked, and tears ran down his cheeks. His lips quivered, but no words came out. Snowman reached out and pulled the young man close. “My parents…they weren’t supportive…”

  “We’ll fix that, right now. With all this traffic, there’s no way they’ve jumped for home. You can call them when we get aboard.”

  Ryu nodded against his shoulder. “Thank you, Snowman. I don’t know what else to say.”

  “I owe your parents a few lifetimes. Maybe I can repay them a little by looking out for you as much as I can.”

  They parted again, and Snowman clapped a hand on Ryu’s shoulder as they walked toward the private berths. Ryu dried his eyes and wiped his nose on his sleeve but said nothing. Snowman smiled. The universe worked in mysterious ways sometimes. He couldn’t watch over his daughter, but one of his oldest friends needed help. Along came the offspring of two of his closest friends, also needing help. James “Snowman” Francis knew it was a sign of something. He might not understand what that sign was, but it was something he needed to do. Truth be told, another navigator would be the perfect addition to his crew. Where they were heading, Snowman’s first rule would apply.

  “I am a qualified pilot,” Ryu said. “And mother taught me orbital calculations when I was fifteen.”

  “Did they ever teach you my rules?”

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  Snowman chuckled. “Good. Rule number one is a good pilot and navigator always knows when and how to get the hell out of Dodge. If you’re able to do that, you’ll be a fine addition to my crew, son.”

  * * *

  Aboard the Quiet Storm

  Departing Jupiter Gate

  “That seemed too easy, Selector.”

  Hak-Chet smiled. “Some things are simply meant to be, Master Rsach. Caught him on his way to Bandit One. After all these years, you continue to doubt my ability as a field asset.”

  “Indeed.” Rsach sighed, and his long body contorted to match the exhalation. “He must know that we know what it is and how he used it.”

  “That is a fair assumption.”

  “And his daughter is a Peacemaker!” Rsach sank lower into the chair. “This is a horrible coincidence, Selector.”

  Hak-Chet nodded. “I will not argue that, old friend. What’s important to remember is he acquired that beacon long before his dealings with the Mercenary Guild were codified. His intention for his daughter to use it, and to find her when she did, was noble, but ill-informed.”

  “He could have gone home at any time, couldn’t he?”

  Hak-Chet shook his head. “I believe his contract with the Mercenary Guild allows him to come no closer to Earth than Luna, and only for short periods of time. Until we get our hands on it, we won’t know.”

  Rsach leaned forward and rose from the chair. He moved to the wide window looking north over the Ocean of Storms. “When I became a Peacemaker, I believed Humans were too young and foolish as a species to be valuable assets. I believe most of our friends and classmates would have said the same, and I never dreamed a Human would join our ranks. When you ascended to the Selector’s position, I never imagined you’d present a Human candidate. Gods, even the thought of it turned my stomachs. Based on our friendship and my respect for you, I allowed her candidacy, never believing for a second she would pass the trials, the Academy, or a confirmation mission.”

  Hak-Chet shuffled to the window and looked over the sun-lit regolith. “Yet she did, and she even completed a second mission.”

  “She would have died had her father not intervened. Yes, she took out a Selroth patrol with the skill and accuracy expected of a Peacemaker, but the odds would have been against her living more than another hour. His arrival was fortunate.”

  “And yet, his history is not,” Hak-Chat said. “We don’t know the breadth of what he’s done, Rsach.”

  “That’s what troubles me. He knows things about the Dusman. He’s trusted by hundreds of Human mercenary companies to assist them in times of trouble. He has ships and forces spread around the galaxy, and he’s one of six priority mission units for the entire Mercenary Guild. If the tide continues to turn the way we think, more Humans will be lost. Why do they let him live? What is he doing for them to merit living?”

  Hak-Chet shrugged, a movement that wobbled his shoulders. “We cannot assume he’s doing anythin
g.”

  “Then where is he headed?”

  “G’dal, in the Avan arm. Thletca system.” Hak-Chet consulted his wrist slate. “A mercenary company called Alden’s Anzacs is besieged by Tortantulas pursuing a contract to clear hostiles for a mining operation.”

  “Who is the contract issuer?”

  “The contract is redacted by the Merchant Guild, but its routing suggests it was a company on Earth,” Hak-Chet looked up to see Rsach’s eyes on him. “We’ve seen this before with contracts issued at the guild level. What is it?”

  Rsach spoke slowly. “Do you think he’s a traitor against his own kind?”

  Hak-Chet took a slow breath. “Time will tell, Master Rsach. Something like that cannot be swept under a rug.”

  Rsach startled. “That reminds me. Our intel section answered my request. The contract on Weqq? For Reilly’s Raiders? It is a sweep and clear mission. They are to secure the planet for the guild in preparation for war—for supplies and materials. Resistance means death. They’re going to kill the TriRusk, too.”

  Hak-Chet gasped. “Do the MinSha know this? Is this contract legal and valid?”

  “The contract is legal under provisions from the Mercenary Guild to prepare any fightable position for combat through eminent domain. The MinSha consulate sent an emergency message to Weqq. If Raleigh arrives there first, I worry he’ll shut down the communications network. He’s done that before,” Rsach said. “I’ve ordered a tactical response team mobilized. They’ll jump from headquarters directly, but they’ll be too late, and this enrages me. They sent Humans to wipe out a colony and a potential tribe of TriRusk. We’ve sent a Human Peacemaker to defend the Minsha and the TriRusk. She’ll be overmatched and outgunned, Hak-Chet. Her father will be halfway across the galaxy collecting a friend’s mercenary company on the Mercenary Guild’s orders. They structured this event to take it out of our hands.”

  Hak-Chet nodded to himself. It made perfect sense and was a tactically-sound plan. The presence of a Human Peacemaker was a threat that had to be honored and removed. “The Mercenary Guild wants Jessica Francis dead.”

  Rsach nodded. “I agree. But that’s an accusation we cannot make because nothing has happened. Everything in place follows the letter of Union law to the point that the only shred of it that applies is the found species provision. That they are not to be removed from their world may keep the TriRusk alive, if the guild chooses to exercise their…ability.”

  Hak-Chet clearly caught a difference in the Guild Master’s tone. “You don’t think that will happen.”

  “No, I don’t. My greater fear, however, is that our Peacemaker will side with the Humans based on her species and her desire to survive. If she does, we will have no choice but to remove her. Gods. Until Humans came along, Peacemakers were feared and respected. Now, mercenaries have tried to kill them.”

  Hak-Chet shook his head. The realization was painful and saddening. “Mercenaries have only tried to kill one Peacemaker thus far, Master. Our Human Peacemaker. Gods help us if they succeed.”

  Rsach nodded, and his features blanked. Hak-Chet watched for a moment as the Jeha received communications of some type through his many antennae. He turned and frowned. “The Mercenary Guild has trapped the Golden Horde in the Trigar system. Our intelligence was wrong, Hak-Chet. Peepo is prepared to move against Earth, and there’s nothing we can do to stop her.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter Five

  MinSha Compound

  Weqq

  For three days, Jessica followed the MinSha physician’s plan to observe the mystery species at dusk to no avail. On the morning of the fourth day she woke early, and in the pre-dawn light, she ventured into the open common area of the compound. In a corner relatively clear of gear and pallets of supplies, Jessica laid out a rubberized mat and took off her shoes. The combination of exercises flowed from the Five Tibetan Rites, through a series of yoga sun salutations, and ended in a body-weight strength workout that felt as comfortable as an old pair of shoes. Simple pushups, sit-ups, flutter kicks, air squats, and the masochistic variation of a pushup combined with full body agony known as the “burpee.” Ten repetitions of each, repeated five times, combined with the already humid and warm morning left her pants and tank-top soaked. By the time she’d finished the workout, a few MinSha circulated out of their buildings, into the common area. All of them looked at her, then looked away just as quickly.

  Before she collected her gear, she wiped off her skin with a microfiber towel and smoothed back her auburn hair from her face. The exercise left her arms and legs on the verge of trembling, and she relished the feeling. The morning ritual was the highlight of every day, so far. A series of squawks from the trees above caught her attention, and she looked up into the early morning twilight. Whatever it was sounded like a lion. She looked around the compound and noticed a ladder leading to the walkway atop the southern wall. She jogged twenty steps to the ladder and climbed up to the security walkway. The ladder’s rungs were not parallel to the ground; instead, they looked like downward pointed chevrons, built to accommodate the MinSha’s hind feet. No one shouted or called for her to get down. A group of black flying lizards shot over her head and into the mist that was forming. Jessica followed their path with her eyes and froze. In the mist, no more than two hundred meters from the wall, was a group of massive beasts she’d never seen before.

  At first glance, the child in her shouted out that they were dinosaurs. The head resembled a sleek triceratops, with a shield extending over the exposed neck, but instead of flaring, it turned down toward their spines. There were three protuberances on the shields of the larger ones, and the smaller ones had either two or four. They weren’t quite tusks or horns, but something in between. The beasts walked forward on their arms like gorillas, and as Jessica wondered if they could rear up on their rear legs, one of them did and stepped forward to forage in a large flowering bush.

  Gods, they’re huge. At least a couple of meters tall.

  The hulking beasts moved slowly, like long-haired, gray and black cattle. Five of them circled another bush and used their arms to forage and lift low hanging bushes. Several creatures flew or ran from them, but they made no effort to follow.

  They’re searching for something.

  Jessica heard someone climbing the ladder behind her and looked over her shoulder to see Fuul. Instead of turning to greet the physician, Jessica kept watching the searching creatures.

  “What do you think you’re doing?!” Fuul’s stage whisper sounded as if she was still on the ladder, with her head just above the walkway’s surface.

  “Observing your mystery creatures. I suppose you have this on video?”

  “Of course we’re recording it. Now get inside!”

  Jessica shook her head. “No. It’s pretty obvious they are not the threat you seem to think they are.”

  There was silence behind her for a moment. She watched the slow creatures continue their search, some sniffing the dirt and others fanning out in a wider circle. As they did, Jessica noticed one of the creatures had shaggy white and gray hair and pinkish eyes. Two of the larger ones she assumed were male stood close by as if guarding it.

  Fuul appeared at her shoulder a moment later. “They’ve been here every two days.”

  Jessica frowned. Two days before, she’d slept well past sunrise recovering from jump lag. “You could have told me.”

  “We assumed you didn’t want to be disturbed.”

  “I would rather not have sat in the rain for the past three nights. Telling me when and where to see them up close would’ve been much easier.” Jessica tilted her chin at the creatures, careful not to raise her hands or move suddenly. “What are they?”

  Fuul hesitated just long enough for Jessica to realize the MinSha knew what they were observing, and that something was very, very wrong. “They are TriRusk. Possibly feral, but they are definitely TriRusk.”

  “Why didn’t you say that in your message?”


  “There is much you don’t know, Peacemaker. It is best that Psymrr and Tirr provide that information. They are much more familiar with the history than I am,” Fuul replied. “This is the first confirmed sighting of them in several hundred years.”

  Jessica took a deep breath. “Why is that such a big deal, Fuul?”

  The physician shifted her weight from one gangly leg to the other. “They are a myth told to little ones. Behave and do what’s right, or you’ll disappear like the TriRusk—that sort of thing. Do you Humans threaten your children with silly untruths?”

  Jessica half-smiled. “I don’t have children, Fuul, but all the parents I know do something like that.”

  “But it is something that cannot come true, right?”

  “What do you mean?” Jessica turned to look at the MinSha, but the physician’s eyes remained fixed on the TriRusk. “Are you afraid of them?”

  “Gods, no.” Fuul turned to look at her. The wide mantis eyes studied her for a long moment. “The TriRusk…were…a noble, valued species to the Union. But there are those who wished them harm. They ran. Their whole species disappeared. They vacated their home world almost overnight. There was no trace of them in the gate logs and no contact of any kind. Psymrr and Tirr can provide the full history; I am sure to leave things out.”

  Jessica nodded, her brain swirling with questions and scraps of policy filtering up from her academy classes. There’d been no mention of any mystery species, no great “missing civilization” speculation during any of her classes, and yet this MinSha knew quite a bit about the TriRusk. It was time to see just how much the physician knew. “Tell me about them. What am I seeing out there?”

  “The larger ones are males, which is a predominant trait in many xenobiological genus and families. They perform the typical male roles of security and strength. The smaller ones, those two over there, are female. See how they remain behind the action and observe? I would venture a guess that females play a larger role in the leadership of their tribe, but it’s hard to say. I’ve never been able to observe them up close,” Fuul answered.