those slender little wands to any part of the body and its energy field linked directly into the
victim’s nervous system – and tore it apart. Felt like being burned alive from the inside out. I
knew. As part of their ‘entertainment’ Kriegsman and his buddies had shoved one up inside me.
Hells, I ought to pat the boy on the back. I wouldn’t have been able to stick to a story of any kind
under that kind of pain.
“Ma’am?” Roy touched his ribs and winced.
“What?” I noticed that even the slight movements he made looked pained. “Has anyone
injured you?”
“No, ma’am. I woke up hurting.” He touched his ribs and winced again. “It must be from
when you … put me in the life pod, Ma’am.”
“That’s good. You cost too much to have you damaged for no good purpose.” I saw his eyes
narrow and hid a smile. I didn’t like trusting him, not at all. But I was sure he wanted to get
Romeo out, and I was about the only hope he had of managing it. So he probably wouldn’t turn
me in. At least not until he found a brass ass who wanted a lady boy.
All I could do was hope his story held long enough for me to figure a way to get us back to
the freighter and get the hell out of here. Made me wonder if Roy hadn’t come up with a way for
managing that, too. “So what else did you tell them?”
He shut down any answer as the doors at the far end of the ward swung open. A pair of
uniformed human polar bears strode in, carrying combat grade laser rifles. I should not have
wondered how much worse it could get. The Streikern guards stepped aside to let a brass ass
officer stroll through the space between them. And my blood drained straight down to my toes.
I’d have recognized that square-jawed, blue-eyed face in the darkest pit of the deepest hell.
Herman Kriegsman. The only thing that’d changed about him was his rank. Five years ago he’d
been a captain. He’d prospered since then. Now, he wore colonel’s insignia. I’d spent those five
years seeing Kriegsman’s contorted face leering down at me in my nightmares.
And here was me chained to a gobbing bed.
My first thought was to break for the opposite door and take the damn bed with me. But
Kriegsman’s eyes flicked over me with no trace of recognition. It took me a terrified second to
realize the truth: the brutal sonuvabitch had no idea who I was.
The reason kicked in as the terror faded. Of course he didn’t recognize me – five years ago I’d
been a brown-skinned, brown-eyed innocent, an untyped natural who wasn’t even legally human.
Even if he’d ever bothered to remember my old name, he had no reason to match it to an Aryan
sergeant. I was the only one who remembered.
I felt the kill lust kindle a glitter in my eyes – and just as quick felt it fade. I didn’t need to kill
Kriegsman, not any more. Romeo had wakened the first hope of happiness I’d felt in years. Faint
as that hope was, I needed it more than I needed to add Kriegsman to my kill list. What I needed
now was to get Romeo and Roy and me out of here.
For the first time I felt a profound gratitude to Roy. Convincing Kriegsman I was one of his
own was the only way we were going to survive. Now it was time for me to play my part.
“What’s the meaning of this?” I yanked at my wrist cuff. “We are innocent survivors –”
“Let us dispense with the protests of innocence, Sergeant Vahrheitsyaeger.” Kriegsman made
the rank sound dirty. “It hardly suits your position.”
I almost grinned. He’d bought into my Marine ID. So either he got it from the name and rank
insignia on my armor, or his people had read the freighter’s link records. From what I
remembered of Kriegsman it was probably a combination of both. Praise all the gods in the
neighborhood that Roy could think under torture. His story fit right in. My hopes shot upward.
“Do you always believe everything you see, Colonel Kriegsman?” I saw my challenge strike
home. He hadn’t expected me to know his name. “Now enough of this. You’ve wasted quite
enough of my time, Colonel. End this nonsense and release me!”
Keeping my eyes on his I lifted my cuffed hand. For one eternal moment I feared I’d overshot
my mark. Then he tugged a link key out of his pocket. Stepping up beside me he slid the key
across the cuff. The metal ring dropped away from my wrist.
“Oooh, Ma’am! Tell him to release me! Pretty please!” Roy bounced on his bed, happy as a
kid with fresh candy. By now, I knew him well enough to realize it was just an act.
Kriegsman glanced at me. “What do you want done with your…toy?”
“Uncuff him,” I told Kriegsman. “He’s harmless.”
“As you wish.” Kriegsman stepped over to Roy’s bed and unlocked the Sprite’s handcuff. If
he noticed Roy’s hopeful flutter he ignored it.
“Now, then,” I sat up, rubbing feeling back into my wrist. “What have you done with my
Lupan prisoner?”
“The Lupan is under control…” Kriegsman hit that blind spot where my rank should have
been and hesitated. I managed not to grin. There’s nothing an Aryan hates like he hates not
knowing whether his intended victim just might outrank him. He settled for caution. “We will
continue this conversation in my office, Vahrheitsyaeger. Fifteen minims. The orderlies can get
you a uniform.”
With that, he strode out of the ward, polar bears in tow.
Chapter 4
Ten minims later I strode out of the sick bay wearing a crinkly new jumpsuit. The dark olive
uniform bore no insignia, which suited me just fine. I stopped outside the sick bay doors, right in
the middle of the walkway, and stuck fists on my hips, elbows out and chin up in true Aryan
obnoxiousness. Outside, the sun had reached early evening. Daytime at any hour in a desert is
generally a blazing experience. But Aram’s sun was a more amber star than Earth’s. Its light was
tawny, its warmth gentle. Late afternoon sun gleamed on the vehicles trundling along the base’s
broad central road instead of flaring. The air was still dusty, and stank of overheated machinery.
But it was air – open and free and I was still alive to breathe it. It felt glorious, even through that
unending headache. I sneezed out my first lungful and took my bearings.
The base was laid out like a wedge of pie cutting into the vast circle of the landing pads.
Kriegsman’s bunker and the related command offices lined the outside curve of the wedge. The
post’s main drag arrowed straight down the center of the wedge to converge at a series of hills in
the distance. Portable admin trailers lined both long sides of the wedge. Across the main road the
buildings petered out as the road narrowed toward the hills so the narrow tip of the wedge
pointed toward the hills and the yellow emptiness of the desert beyond. Squinting, I could just
make out dark caverns within the hills. The hills there had been hollowed out to form hangars for
Kriegsman’s fighter squadron.
A fighter squadron. On an active Army base. Here, on a so-called neutral world, on the edge
of the DMZ on the eve of the one set of peace talks that were likely to hold. This situation was
just not looking any better. I decided I didn’t want to think about the reasons behind this base’s
existence. At least, not beyond how in all the hells I was going to get Romeo, Roy, and me out of
here.
I sighted up the other side of the road. Kriegsman’s office wasn’t hard to find. Officers’ huts
were where they always were, close to Command – and, of course, to the commissary and rec
room delights. Rows of grunts’ huts crowded the desert side of the wedge’s perimeter. The
stockade was impossible to miss. It was twice as large as just about anything around it. They
must be running some heavy penalties to warrant a stockade that size. Made me wonder how
they handled anybody whose mouth was too big for his rank. I decided I didn’t need to wonder
too hard.
A mechanical bellow reminded me I was standing in the middle of the street. I skipped out of
the way of an empty transport. Its pilot leaned out to give me a snapshot of my ancestry. I stifled
a grin as she caught sight of my white-blond features and ducked back out of sight. Aryans must
have as bad a rep on this base as everywhere else. She rumbled past, leaving me choking on her
dust.
I started toward the Command hut when my stomach growled. Gods, I was hungry! I stepped
out of the way of another transport to think. Must’ve been twenty-thirty hours since I’d eaten
anything other than that cookie. No wonder I had a headache. I couldn’t afford to face
Kriegsman with my head pounding. I was going to need all my wits and borrow a few to boot if I
was going to pull off this Aryan interrogator act. That decided me: food first.
I’d made it halfway to the commissary when an officer’s skimmer swooped up alongside me.
The driver dipped her nearest wing tip to bring herself into my line of sight and lifted a palm.
Grinning, I gave her the open palm sign of the Sisterhood. She nodded, jerked her head toward
one of the barracks, then took off. The backwash from her repulse field spat dust down my fresh
new uniform. I flipped her off for form’s sake, got a wing-waggle acknowledgement.
I felt some of the tension drain out of my shoulders. Maybe the situation wasn’t totally
hopeless after all. There was a Sisterhood contingent here. The sisters would put me up. And
they wouldn’t expect me to give ‘em all a free ride for the favor, either.
Chapter 5
The mess hall was about halfway down the main drag. I stuck to the side of the pedestrian
pathway to avoid getting run over by the transports rumbling past. Clearly the word on me was
already out. Newbie striding along in a no-rank uniform on a secret base – the squaddies
scurrying past should’ve been falling over each other trying to crane a look. Nobody gave me so
much as the once over. But I felt the dagger stares between my shoulder blades. Made me doubly
grateful when the commissary door closed behind me.
The death stares drove home just what kind of base this was. I’d been all right so far, probably
thanks to Roy’s quick thinking more than anything else. But Romeo hadn’t had anyone to cover
for him. I knew, with a sudden cold fear, that Kriegsman had probably already used one of those
damn neural wands on Romeo. I didn’t know if I could get the man out or not, but if I couldn’t
I’d damn well get him a clean death. In the interim at least I could get him something to eat.
At this hour the chow hall was close to empty. My stomach went into Jump drive the instant
the smell of hot coffee and bacon hit my nose. I washed down a couple of egg and sausage roll
ups with a cup of joe, then earned an admiring whistle from the hash slinger by cadging six more
to go. Doubt he’d have been so impressed if he’d known I was taking them to Romeo. I didn’t
know what Lupans normally liked but if my guess was right the rollups would be more than he’d
have got from the jailers.
Outside, the evening was still warm. Wasn’t hot far as I was concerned. But, then, I’d grown
up in the frying heat of the Losandiego desert. Any weather didn’t boil water in your cup
qualified as cool. Judging from the sweat running down the grunt squads jogging past, I held the
minority opinion. ‘Course, Aram’s arctic probably would’ve felt warm to the soldiers panting
past me: every last one of them was a Streiker native. The fact there were so many of them here
added one more item to my ‘don’t want to think about it’ list.
Only good thing I’d found so far was that the stockade was right next to the hospital. Not
surprising: anybody Kriegsman took prisoner would need medical assistance close at hand. Or
the morgue.
The stockade looked like just one more nondescript gray barracks except for the lack of
windows. A sec shield hazed the air around the wired-in exercise yard. The yard was empty.
Figured. Kriegsman’s kind of jail wouldn’t risk having a passer-by glimpse what his prisoners
looked like after a day or two in his custody.
The sign over the double doors simply declared ‘Detention Center’. Had to hand it to
Kriegsman. He kept his operations neat. No base name, no Army reference, not even a guard at
the door. Those would be inside. I pulled myself up, burped out egg, and dropped into a ramrod
march. Time to play Aryan again.
Inside, the admissions room was as bare as any other admissions room in any other military
jail. Floor was concrete, walls extruded plasti-form with a couple of plasti-form benches thrown
in for appearances’ sake. The pair of guards lounging on the benches snapped to attention as I
walked in. I strutted past their salutes, snapping off a nose-up answering salute as I stepped up to
the duty guard. The grunt on the duty desk came from some deep space miner clan. Sonuvabitch
was massive enough to make all the comm equipment cluttering the desk look like sample-sized
toys. He glared at me through a night’s growth of beard stubble. Even across the width of the
desk, I heard the rumble of his empty stomach.
“I’m here to see the Dog,” I announced.
I saw his nose twitch. He pretended to check his roster but his eyes kept straying to the bag in
my hand. No doubt about it; he’d smelled those sausages. I tucked the bag of rollups behind my
back and he lifted his glare off my elbow. “Got no auths for an interrogator, I ain’t.”
“My name’s Vahrheitsyaeger. Since when does that name need authorization?”
“Colonel’s orders-”
“Were issued before I arrived.”
He was not impressed. Okay, intimidation wasn’t going to work; time for bribery. I swung the
bag of sausage wraps out from behind my back, pulled it open and lifted one of the greasy
sandwiches out. Takes a lot of food to power a miner’s mass. As I’d hoped, his eyes followed the
sandwich. “Colonel always make his night duty people go hungry?”
“Ain’t talking about the Colonel, I ain’t.”
“I didn’t expect you to. You’re a smart boy.” I peeled back another layer of wrap, making
sure to waft the sandwich under his nose. “Bet your orders let you grab a snack at your desk,
though.”
His eyes target locked on the food. He licked his lips – then pulled his chin in, eyes going
narrow. “You’d rat me out, you would!”
“How could I?” I placed the sandwich on the desk and slid it toward him. “I won’t be here to
see you, will I?”
His glance slid past me to the guards, bribery in his eyes. Stifling a grin, I pulled another
sandwich out of the bag.
“Cell four.” He touched a con
trol on one of the consoles, then picked up the sandwich. “Just
unlocked it.”
I stifled a start. I liked Romeo too much for my own good, but I sure as hell wouldn’t have
unlocked that man’s cell until I had the doorway covered five ways from Sunday. I gave the
guard a two-finger salute, grabbed the bag with the remaining four roll ups in it and strode
through to the cell block. I smelled it before I even tried the door. The cell smelled of blood and
piss and worse. I did a quick eyeball of the room as I pushed the door open: no john, no cot, not
even a bundle of straw. A room for death, not detention. An interrogation chamber.
Romeo was spread-eagled on one slimy wall. His feet dangled about a meter off the floor,
putting his full weight was on his arms. It also put that magnificent musculature of his on full
display – and the long, angry welts criss-crossing his torso. The sight of those welts woke a
slow-burning rage in my gut. Kriegsman had wasted no time working him over.
I pushed the door three-quarters closed behind me before I risked speaking. Gloomy as the
cell was I saw his ears perk when I entered. A part of my heart dreamed it was because he’d
scented me. Only the way his nose twitched told me he’d smelled the sausage.
“Brought you something to eat.” Stupid thing to say, but sight of him on that wall wiped all
real thought out of my mind.
“Why?” His ears went flat. Beneath them, his amber eyes gleamed in the shadows. “So I’ll
last longer under your questioning?”
“No, ‘cause I knew you’d be hungry. I never expected…” I couldn’t finish the sentence. I
yanked a rollup out of the bag, tore it open to hide the tears burning my eyes. “I’ve told them
you’re my prisoner. I’m hoping that’ll get you fair treatment.” Unless… an unhappy possibility
sprang to mind. “You didn’t kill anybody, did you?”
“Didn’t have the chance. Your pack mates flooded the life pod with knock out gas before they
opened the hatch. I was chained when I woke up.” He shrugged, as much as he could. “My own
fault. I should never have trusted a flat tooth.”
I lifted a sandwich to his lips. He jerked his head away with a snarl. “Look, choom, you don’t
eat you’re not going to be any good to anyone, least of all yourself.”
Monkey's Luck Page 6