by Rob Buckman
”However, what is not public knowledge is that we are collecting and refining less and less Cg material each year from our current production facilities.” That was something he would rather not have told the General for many reasons. Greed and ambition being the least, seeing the shrewd look on the General's face as the implications finally dawned on him.
"That alone would be sufficient reason to land, Sir.” He murmured at last.
For a moment Markoff wondered if he should send the impulse to the sensor buried in the desktop. All it would take is one thought, and the General would no longer be of any concern. The ballistic armor under his uniform would be of no help whatsoever as few men think of placing armor under their butts. The tiny dart buried in the soft seat would penetrate the General's uniform trousers and feel like no more than a pinprick. In a matter of hours, he'd be dead from a massive heart attack with no one the wiser, but he stayed the thought. The General still had his uses.
“At the moment we barely collect a sufficient amount for our current needs, let alone any proposed expansion program, or prolonged conflict.” The Director’s face took on a pinched look. “If the military, and political situation continues the way they are, it won't be long before the Emperor starts limiting its civilian use.” He added.
General Tandy felt a slight shiver run up his spine. If the Emperor, meaning the Director, thought of restricting civilian use of Cg material, things were in worse shape than he supposed. That didn't bode well for the continued existence of the Empire, and his job, which concerned him more. He shifted uneasily in his seat.
"That means that this planet, and the deposits on the surface is a prize of unimaginable importance to the Emperor.” That was an understatement.
“We either have to find a new source, such as another brown dwarf, or find a way to land on this planet, mine the material, and take off again, General.”
The Director stopped for a moment and leaned back, wetting his suddenly dry lips with the tip of his tongue. The look on the Director Markoff's face caught General Tandy's eye. It reminded him of an expression he seen, and probably had on his face when he was younger, that of teenage boys looking at a particularly lovely young woman. It was almost sexual in nature, and something of a shock to realize that the Director did have emotions after all. The old fart had a hard on for the planet, or more correctly for the Cg material on its surface. Even the Director's voice sound low and husky as he continued.
“My experts estimate that between the material contained in that building and the recorded surface deposits, we could sustain an expanded ship building program for the next thousand years.” Markoff felt his heart rate increase at the prospect.
“If this gravity effect is controlled from within that building, why not put a guided missile with a low yield nuclear warhead into it and destroy the control mechanism?” It seemed the easiest solution to General Tandy.
“We should be able to get a missile or a large rock into it, especially if the planet is pulling it down anyway?” The Director gave him a cold look.
“Firstly because we have no way of knowing if that is where the gravitational effect is controlled from,” the Director's voice had a hard edge.
“You might note that if the building has existed as long as reported, it shows no sign of damage, and there are no nearby impact craters. This suggests there is an additional device protecting the building itself.”
“Yes Sir, I see that.”
“Therefore it is doubtful we could even hit it. Beside which, even if we did, a low yield weapon would vaporize, and scatter the Cg material beyond recovery, and that is not acceptable.” The General's eyes returned to the screen.
“Then I agree with you, Sir. We have to find a way to land and take off.”
“Thank you General. I'm so glad you agree with my assessment,” his note of sarcasm was lost on the General, “however, this is not the real reason we wish to land on this planet. This brings us to the Edifice itself.”
“How so, Director?”
“Apart from its composition, the building, if you could call it that. It is also said to contain a great prize, possibly the secrets to the builders advanced technology or even a weapon storage facility.” The word 'weapon' made General Tandy sit up a little straighter. The Director thought that might get his attention, but wondered if he wanted it for the Empire, or himself.
"And which one is Imperial Intelligence subscribing to?” General Tandy asked with a thoughtful look behind his eyes. The look didn't pass without notice by the Director, or his sensors.
"All three, none, some of the above.” The Director murmured, looking pensive. “It all depends on who gives the presentation.” His shoulder gave a slight upward movement that could be interpreted as a shrug.
“They all seemed to agree that this effect is controlled from within that building, or maybe some device under it.”
"Not a lot to go on, Director.” General Tandy's had his eyes locked hungrily on the screen as thought and possibilities whirled around in his brain.
"True, but a puzzle that we need to solve before someone else.” The Director added. It was time to bring his marching orders.
"I see. A possible threat to the Empire.”
"Yes, indeed. We are not the only ones interested in this... objective.”
"Anyone we should be concerned about?” General Tandy jerked his attention back to what the Director was saying, his eyes narrowing in thought.
"The Thrakee for one and the Silurian's for another.” Two particularly good reasons for the General's continued existence.
"Not exactly someone we want to get into conflict with at this time.”
The thought of having to go toe to toe with either one didn't hold much appeal to General Tandy. Having to go up against both at the same time bordered on suicide. Though not a front line soldier in the true sense of the word, he did have access to all the latest intelligence reports and military assessment. They all pointed to a stalemate, and a somewhat uneasy truce. However, like all truces it was mainly an excuse for each side to rearm, and position themselves for the next thrust. If the Empire could gain control of the resources on that planet, it would drastically change the balance of power. It would also mean they could put an end to both the Thrakee and the Silurian at the same time.
"True General, at least not until we've completed consolidation of what we have at the moment.” General Tandy nodded. “The Thrakee and the Silurians are also preventing us from exploring the jump network in their direction for a new source of Cg material.” The Director's eyes dropping to the box for a moment, looking pensive.
"Brown Dwarfs are scarce in this arm of the galaxy, and, if the information from our intelligence's agents is correct, the Thrakee and the Silurians are facing a similar situation. They too are running low of Cg material.”
"That means they need it as much as we do. Find more Brown Dwarfs, or…"
"You are correct, General.” That the General could work out the implications of the situation came as a slight surprise to the Director as he always thought General Tandy a little dumb, yet nothing showed on his face. Maybe it was time the General took early retirements.
"As you can see, it is imperative that we, and we alone gain control of that planet, and the secrets hidden in that building. Once we have a secure source of the material, we can look to putting an end to their nuisance once and for all.” The thought of being able to remove the last two serious threats to the Empires expansion sent a warm flush through Markoff's body. If they could get hold of the Cg material on this planet, that goal was within his grasp.
"I don't see where I can help, Director.” He didn't. Give him a planet to conquer or a rebellion to suppress and he was in his element, but this?
"That is true General. Either way, we have to find a solution to landing and taking off again, and prevent anyone else from landing if need be.” He paused for a moment, contemplating his next words carefully.
“Normally, as a hamme
r, you are the perfect instrument of choice for certain kinds of operations.” The word collateral damage was never included in General Tandy's lexicon. Tandy kept his face straight, but being referred to as a hammer galled him, the sub text suggesting he was as dumb as one.
"However, here a hammer is not what I need.” The carrot and the stick approach always appealed to the Director. First the stick to get the General's attention and put him in his place, now the carrot.
"Yes Sir.” Tandy muttered softly, trying in vain to stop his body from stiffening in anger, or clenching his fists at the implied insult.
The tell-tales under the edge of the Director desk told him exactly what the General was feeling, but he let none of it show on his face. When it came to a Var, Markoff was amused at how easily he could prick their vaunted pride.
"I do however, need someone I can trust to oversee the operation as secrecy is paramount. That person also needs to interdict the planet to any other interested parties without observing the niceties of some treaty or other.” He paused a moment to let the verbal palm soothe the sore spot on the General's ego before adding a little more. “The only person I can think of up to such a task is you General.” The hypocrisy of his words didn't bother the Director a bit.
"Yes Sir, I understand.”
General Tandy's emotions settled down to a low simmer hearing that, but he wasn't fooled. The reason he was still alive was his proven ability to solve the Director's problems, not his sparkling wit, or intelligence.
"Good. As we speak, Special Operations is modifying an assault shuttle with larger Cg generators and structural bracing in preparation for crash land on the planet. Hopefully it will protect some of the occupants sufficiently to get them down on the surface in reasonable shape,” he added.
One shuttlecraft had made it down, and the occupants had survived the crash. What happened after that he didn't know, except for the last few garbled comm signals. From the screaming, he deduced they all died a horrible death. That information was unimportant, and not relative to the upcoming mission. Better the people going down didn't know what happened to their predecessors.
“What I need for you to do is pick a mixed combat team that can get to the pyramid, and neutralize the device or mechanism as quickly as possible," the Director pointed to the data pad, "it is in the nature of one of the people I expressly wish to include in that team where your particular background comes in.”
"And who might that be Director?” Oddly the Director wouldn't look him in the eye when he said it, which he normally did, and Tandy got that nervous feeling again.
"The pad in front of you contains all available data and should answer your questions concerning the mission. It also contains information on the additional person I wish to send.” The Director answered with a casual wave of his hand before returned to processing documents.
General Tandy eyed the pad with distaste and let out a soft sigh of resignation before reluctantly placing his thumb on the corner, hoping the pad was keyed to his biometric signature. If it were not, the quick acting poison would kill him within seconds. On the other hand, that didn't make much sense. Why tell him this fantastic story, if his all he wanted to do was dispose of him. There were a lot easier, and quicker ways to do that. With that thought in mind he thumbed the pad, but breathed a slight sigh of relief as the screen lit with the logo of Imperial Security and the usual warning, proving his fear groundless. Why the Director felt it necessary to protect the identity of the person he wanted to send got his curiosity, and he quickly scanned the data, snorting loudly as he found out.
“Sainted Mother of the Prophet!” He murmured. The Director wanted to send a human! General Tandy shuddered as chaotic images of that hell planet called Earth crowded to the surface of his mind. Memories he'd rather not examine. General Tandy looked up and for a moment, he could have sworn he saw the Director smile.
“As we speak, this person is in the process of being escorted to a secure location on the outskirts of the Capital.”
“You will meet him there and brief him on the mission. Promise him whatever you like, including a pardon if necessary, but if he should still prove… difficult, remind him of 'one million'.”
“Yes, Sir,” General Tandy replied, puzzled by the remark.
“You might also take extra precautions, General, and not give him any excuse to do something lethal. Not that he needs any.” The Director's eyes met Tandy's for a moment.” I recently needed to send him to a certain maximum Security prison.”
“Yes, Sir?”
“He killed four full grown Esterian guards.” The Director made a brushing motion in the air with his hand, not even bothering to look up as General Tandy stood, replaced his cap and saluted. Slipped the data pad into his jacket pocket he gave it a soft pat, thankful to be out of there.
The Director's snake cold eyes lifted a moment to contemplate the General's retreating back as he walked out, already selecting the General's replacement once he took early retirement. If all went well, that would be within a few weeks, or maybe a month after he returned from the successful conclusion of this mission.
The General contemplated the Director's last statement. He knew Esterians, especially prison guards, were brutally efficient in their handling of prisoners. For this human to kill four, suggested he take a lot of precautions, and tread extremely carefully. It also made him wonder what control the Director had over this human that he'd follow the Director's orders, and kill the guards in the first place. The phrase, 'one million' was obviously the key, yet one what? Imperial credits? That seemed like an exorbitant amount to pay for such a task minor task.
CHAPTER THREE:
Sitting in the back of his limousine, General Tandy pondered his interview with Director Markoff, silently cursing him for having brought up the subject of humans, and his tour of duty on the hell-hole planet called Earth. If it wasn't for the river of critical resources raped from the planet and system, or the slave labor to work the mines and factories, orbital bombarding the place into a lifeless ball of rock would be the simplest, and logical solution to the problem. General Tandy shivered slightly, but it had nothing to do with the coolness inside his ground transport. Until his tour of duty on Earth, he never realized just how many common objects could be turned into lethal undetectable weapons, even by children.
He shook his head as those dark days crowded his mind again. In an attempt to distract his thoughts with something, anything, he looked out the window, seeing the endless rows of run down government housing on the outskirts of the Imperial Capital. They offered little in the way of a distraction, the gray faced people on an equally gray streets, were nothing but a colorless blur as they drove by. Gritting his teeth, he tried to shy away from one particular memory, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn't stop it surfacing, remembering one particular bright spring morning. That day, the air was crisp and clean from the rain the night before, the smell of fresh cut Earth flowers on the window ledge nearby. He once loved the smell of fresh cut Earth flowers, but not anymore, not after that day. Now they just brought the unbelievable horror of the morning back to him.
Four thousand Imperial troops stood in an open square on the parade ground, all dressed in their red and blue dress uniforms, and waiting to march pass in review for the Emperor's birthday parade. Earth's bright yellow GO sun flashed off gleaming medals and gold colored buttons. Flags fluttering gaily in the light breeze, the deep blue sky had just the right amount of fluffy white clouds to give it depth and meaning. That picture was forever frozen in his mind, playing over and over in those dark lonely hours before dawn. The band played a lively tune as the high-ranking officers and functionaries mounted the reviewing stand, smiling and joking with each other as if they didn't have a care in the world. They lived far from the daily carnage outside the perimeter of the new Capital city. They never had to retrieve the bodies of Imperial troopers slaughtered in an unsuspecting ambush, or see the result of a human IED on some lonely roadside. It was
no wonder few troops wanted to do convoy duty, or house to house searches. The chances of returning from such a mission were slim to none.
From his vantage point on the fourth floor of the new Imperial HQ building, it was the perfect day to display the Empires might, and power to the local neo-barbs, not that they were invited. A few of the more trusted ones, mostly slaves, turncoats, and a few lackeys crowded along the electrified perimeter fence. Most of Earth's population could watch by beam cast, transmitted to the giant view screens located throughout what remained of the human cities. It became apparent later, why so many people in those cities stood in the streets in the middle of the night, or the pouring rain, watching those monitors. They knew what was about to happen, and yet he, the Commanding General of IMPSEC never heard so much as a whisper. The last person to mount the stand was the Planetary Governor with his wife, and three young children. Beside him stood his senior administration staff with their wives and children, smiling and waving to the crowd of Imperial citizens, and colonial bureaucrats. They were too far to see if they waved back, or just spat on the ground at the gesture. Just then, seemingly, out of nowhere a beautiful young human girl in a bright summer dress suddenly materializes, smiling and waving to the crowd, a bouquet of colorful flowers clutched in her hand. She walked slowly to the center of the parade ground and the reviewing stand, as if to formally present the flowers to the Governor. It didn't occur to him at that moment to wonder why any human would offer such a gesture. She was like any number of beautiful young girls he'd had the pleasure of 'interrogating', and for a moment he toyed with the idea of making her his next self-appointed interrogation assignment.