Gateway To The Universe: In Bad Company

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Gateway To The Universe: In Bad Company Page 5

by Craig Martelle


  “And Michael? How’s he play into all this?”

  With a shake of his head, Kurtz answered, “Again, we’ll see soon enough.”

  She wasn’t sure how she felt about it yet, but she felt the agitation starting to get to her. She was up here because of Michael, yet he was off doing something else. How did that make sense? Maybe he meant to give her a role like back on Earth, when he had appointed her as his Justice Enforcer.

  “I’d like to know too, honestly,” Robin stated. “I left a lot behind, and want to be sure I did it to make a difference.”

  “You want action?” Kurtz asked. “You can count on that.”

  “Then what’s the holdup?” Robin asked. “I don’t get why we’re being made to wait around.”

  Valerie shot her a reproachful glance, but she looked back to the others, just as curious as her friend.

  Garcia pointed to the schedule displayed on a screen by the door. Valerie and Robin moved closer.

  “They’ve got us on here,” Valerie said flatly.

  “We’re all on there. No chance to get off the ship now, but we’re going to space, another galaxy! That is the shit!” Garcia looked into the distance, lost in thoughts of the unknown and the fantastic.

  ***

  Joseph stepped from the Pod Doc and breathed deeply, as if waking from a long slumber. He stretched and smiled.

  Hugely.

  “Petricia next,” he declared before picking her up and swinging her around. The fact that Joseph was naked didn’t bother anyone in the group. Weres were considered to be the beautiful people. They showed off without showing off. They didn’t care about being naked or being around other naked people.

  The children had grown up in that atmosphere. They ignored it, but they didn’t go out of their way to take off their clothes in front of the others. They’d seen everyone as nature intended.

  The technician looked away, but stole a glance at Petricia as she quickly removed her clothes and climbed into the Pod Doc. The door closed behind her.

  “Well?” Ted was the first to ask the question. He stood close to Joseph, studying his features.

  Joseph looked him up and down before shaking his head and turning to the others. He grinned as he spoke.

  “Smedley has shared with me that I can now go into the sunlight without being covered up, that I will no longer have to fight the urge to drink fresh blood.” Joseph looked at the ceiling and cried out, “Thank you!”

  He smirked at the group. “I need a new wardrobe, and she does, too.”

  Kaeden pointed to the FDG uniform, black fatigues. He pirouetted for the watchers.

  “I was thinking maybe it’s time to get away from black…”

  “You wouldn’t look good in rainbows,” Marcie said. “Black uniform for you.”

  Joseph looked at her sharply from under a furled brow.

  “I used to be somebody,” Joseph said in a slight English accent with a wry smile.

  “We all used to be somebody, but after seeing this?” Marcie waved her arms to take in the entirety of the spaceship. “We are all a bunch of nobodies doing what we can to stay on the Empress’ good side.”

  Joseph clicked his tongue. “I’ll accept that explanation, Mistress Marcie.” He bowed to her. She rolled her eyes at him. Marcie had never understood some of the language he used, but he’d been born and raised in Europe well before the American Revolution.

  He was the oldest of them all, only because Terry Henry had believed in him and given him a chance. Otherwise, he would have been yet another Forsaken, dead and withered under the pack’s feet.

  Joseph was young compared to the original Vampire, Michael, who was a great-great-grandfather of sorts. Even the Empress had given him a pass and now a gift. He took a knee and bowed his head, mumbling an oath of loyalty from far in his past.

  The others watched him. When he stood, his dark eyes glistened. “I can’t wait to get started. It’s a whole new universe out there.”

  “Next!” the technician called as Petricia yawned and stretched, her nakedness on full display.

  The man shook his head. He would never understand. He had set up a privacy curtain, but none of them were using it.

  Marcie started to strip, but Ted ripped off his clothes at Werewolf speed and jumped in front of her. Felicity put a comforting hand on Marcie’s shoulder. “I wish he was that excited about climbing in bed with me,” she drawled quietly.

  Marcie chuckled. “It’s the ship, clearly. It’s making everyone weird.”

  “I’m liking weird,” Petricia declared, her arms still wrapped around Joseph’s neck.

  The technician turned back to the computers and watched the data stream as the Pod Doc took a sample, analyzed it, reprogrammed the nanos, issued new instructions, and injected additional nanocytes. The initial process took a total of thirty seconds. The rest of the time was dedicated to letting the body grow accustomed to the new equipment coursing throughout, subtly changing things, modifying and adding.

  Ted was quick. Less than five minutes later, he stepped out and Marcie went in. He turned to the side and his eyes unfocused as he started a conversation with the ship’s EI.

  Felicity shook her head. “You know,” she started in a loud voice. “I had to coerce him to marry me. Three kids and a lifetime later, he’s still Ted.”

  “No, Mom. He’s not. I remember the old Ted. Distant, living in his own world, hiding within his mind. He still does that, sure, but he does so much more now. You’ve changed him a lot and for the better,” Marcie told her. Marcie was already grown and married with her own children when Ted came into Felicity’s life.

  Before then, he’d been Uncle Ted, because that was what her closest friends Kim, Kae, and Cory had called him.

  Ted loved technology. A nuclear engineer in the before times, he restored power to much of the world and then he built the gravitic engines, based on Kurtherian technology, that powered the fleets of dirigibles that plied Earth’s skies. Ted’s engines had made him and Felicity fabulously wealthy. She enjoyed it, not the money but the pampering that came with it.

  Even that grew old, over time.

  But the War Axe and a journey to a new galaxy as new people with a new mission. That was something they could all sink their teeth into. The destroyer represented hope, despite its ominous title.

  Everyone could use a little hope.

  The Pod Doc finished cycling and the door opened. Marcie stepped out, a shocked expression on her face.

  ***

  Terry and Char followed Dokken to the mess deck, a large space with long tables for the passengers and crew to eat together as smaller groups. It was an inefficient use of space to feed the crew at one time. They were between lunch and dinner, yet half the seats were filled. Dokken stayed close to the wall, rounding the corner and following a second wall to an open area where food could be passed from the kitchen.

  The German Shepard stopped and waited. He looked at the window and his tail wagged. Terry and Char caught up with him and peeked through. A young woman was there staring at Dokken.

  She finally spoke. “I have no idea what a beef is? What? Who?” Terry waved apologetically.

  “We brought some on board in San Francisco. It was frozen.”

  “That stuff? Do you know how to cook it?” the woman asked.

  The smile started slowly, spreading across his face. Char nodded. “I do,” he said simply.

  The woman waved him and Char around back.

  Smedley, can you summon the two platoons from the rec room? I could use some help and we have a few people who can butcher and cook far better than me. Maybe Auburn is done with what he needed to do?

  >>I will contact them on your behalf. Is this an emergency?<<

  I want to say yes, but the right answer is ‘no.’

  >>Aye, aye, Colonel,<< the EI replied.

  Terry seemed to swell. “We have a plan. A little food prep team building. What do you think, Dokken?”

  I think
I’m hungry.

  “Me, too, but it’ll be a while. It will be well worth the wait, my furry friend.”

  The line cook led them through the kitchen and into a storage area that butted up against the outer hull of the great ship. He could see the double bulkheads where the stores and supplies could act as a buffer in case of a weapon strike.

  The cases of beef were stacked neatly near the end. Terry wanted to have plenty, so he pulled two cases weighing a total of one hundred pounds. Char took one from him and together, they returned to the kitchen.

  A commotion from the dining area signaled the arrival of the FDG. Terry dumped his box on a prep table and leaned out through the window. “Back here!” he called.

  The two platoons converged before Lieutenant Kurtz started barking orders, selecting people to work in the kitchen and then designating their roles. The cleanup crew was disappointed, until Kurtz told them that they were eating first.

  Dokken stood next to the prep table, staring at TH and panting. Terry started trimming the first piece of beef, but the knife wasn’t as sharp as he liked. He pulled his own trusty knife, the one that had been with him since the fall of civilization. He wiped it on a towel and returned to trimming the meat.

  With a clean line, he quickly cut off the other strip of fat, leaving a generous amount of meat attached. He sliced that into four pieces. He put his silvered blade down and picked up one of the freshly trimmed pieces. He held it up as if Dokken was going to beg for it.

  “I’m sorry, buddy, sometimes you act like a dog and I forget that you’re sentient.”

  I am a dog. What’s the holdup? Don’t make me jump up on that table and take care of business myself. They don’t like it when I get up there. He nodded toward the cook, who was eyeing him knowingly.

  Terry handed down the piece. Dokken almost took his fingers off as he grabbed it.

  More, the German Shepard said with his mouth hanging open and his tongue lolling.

  TH quickly fed the dog the other three pieces.

  “What do you think?”

  I think more is in order, just to be certain.

  “So it beats bistok?”

  It may. The dog’s lips peeled back in a dog smile.

  “I told you. Let’s leave these good people to their work. A feast is in order, and we’ll be in the way.”

  I’ll catch up, Dokken replied, never taking his eyes from the next warrior working his blade, butchering the afternoon’s dinner.

  >>Colonel Walton, please report to the briefing room behind the bridge.<<

  That sounds like an official summons. Can I bring Charumati?

  >>Yes, but no one else. This is a private conversation between the Empress and you.<<

  Terry wondered how she’d gotten aboard the War Axe as she’d taken a shuttle to the ArchAngel II with Michael while the FDG was loading up. Terry didn’t bother replying. He leaned his head through the window. “Come on, crack snacker, show us to the briefing room.”

  Busy, Dokken replied.

  “Come!” Terry bellowed. By the last echo, every human was frozen in place, barely breathing, giving the colonel room to conduct his business.

  Only because I want to, Dokken said before drooping his way from the kitchen, tail nearly dragging and ears sagging. Terry and Char led the way into the corridor where Dokken perked up and started trotting toward the nearest stairs up.

  TH and Char couldn’t shake the feeling that they were back on a naval vessel, and as deadly as water could be, the cold vacuum of space had even less mercy on its victims.

  They followed Dokken up the stairs and through a maze of corridors until they reached a door that was labeled as the captain’s conference room.

  Dokken pointed at the door with his nose. Terry and Char stood outside. “My old Marine Corps days suggest I should pound on the hatch, but having met Bethany Anne, I suspect she simply wants us to go in.”

  The door suddenly slid aside and Akio stood there, one of his own at each shoulder.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “Terry-san. We’ve been expecting you.” Akio stepped aside to usher them in. Dokken ran past and directly to Bethany Anne, earning himself a good head-petting and ear-scratching.

  “Thank you, Akio-sama,” Terry replied as he and Char walked into the room. The bitches departed, leaving Akio behind. He continued to stand while the rest sat.

  “How do you like the ship?” BA asked.

  “I would call it a Chariot of the Gods, and to quote Erich Van Daniken from his book of that title, the time has come for us to admit our insignificance by making discoveries in the infinite unexplored cosmos. Only then shall we realize that we are nothing but ants in the vast state of the universe. And yet our future and our opportunities lie in the universe, where gods promised they would.”

  “More than you fucking know, TH. More than you can ever fucking know,” BA told him. She casually reached down to rest her hand on Dokken’s head. The dog smiled.

  “You know that he has an arch enemy on this ship,” Terry said conversationally.

  She laughed and looked at Michael. The first Vampire shook his head. “His name is Wenceslaus. He’s a stowaway, but the captain adopted him.” Michael nodded toward a nondescript man who had been sitting at the table, unnoticed. Terry kicked himself for not making an introduction. Char chewed her lip.

  They were passengers on his ship.

  “I’m Terry Henry Walton,” TH said, not able to reach across the table to shake the man’s hand. “And this is Charumati.”

  “Captain Micky San Marino, but you can call me Micky,” the man said pleasantly. He had a slight accent that Terry couldn’t place. “The good king Wenceslaus and Dokken will forever be at odds. It is in their nature, and Michael is far too kind. Wenceslaus doesn’t like anyone, not even the cooks who feed him. I have no idea how that little bastard gets in my quarters, but every night when I finally make it to my bunk, there’s a big dent on my pillow with a pile of orange hair.”

  Bethany Anne’s eyebrows went up as she blew out a breath. Everyone around the table fell silent.

  “Soon, I’ll be transferring back to the ArchAngel II. My people and I will be out of your hair so you can get on your way to gate to Yollin space.”

  Terry and Char waited. BA held up her hands as if expecting a question.

  “What do you need us to do?” Char asked. Terry rubbed her leg under the table. She had beat him to the punch, and he was good with that. Her question was exactly as he was going to ask.

  “It’s not me who’ll be asking. It’s Nathan Lowell, he works for my dad, General Lance Reynolds, as his intelligence chief. Which, of course, has an active branch, if you get my drift.” She looked as if she anticipated a guilty pleasure.

  Terry smiled. “Nothing like covert direct action to get the blood pumping.”

  BA pursed her lips. Terry’s smile disappeared.

  “The intel weenies are doing their thing, but the Direct Action Branch relates more to your post-Marine Corps activities, isn’t that right, ArchAngel?”

  “Yes, it is,” said a pleasant voice that seemed to surround them. Terry wasn’t sure that BA hadn’t spoken again. The voices sounded similar. “I am ready to patch communications through if you’d like. I have Nathan standing by.”

  “Let’s see what that old dog has to say,” BA replied.

  “Hello! Take me to your leader!” a man’s voice echoed across the room. “Is this fucking thing on? Hello? Hello? For fuck’s sake, this is a waste of time. It’s just a call across the galaxy. What do you want, a kidney? BA? Is that you dicking around? I swear...”

  Terry and Char chuckled.

  “You’ll do what, Nathan, you fucking flea-ridden mongrel?” BA interrupted with a smile.

  “There you are, BA! Shit. I thought I’d lost you.” Nathan stopped talking.

  “We’re short on time, Nathan. We have Michael, Terry Henry Walton, Charumati, Akio, Captain San Marino, and Dokken. Make your pitch, say what you have to
say.”

  Nathan didn’t hesitate.

  “I have a little company out here called the Bad Company and I’m told you are the right man to lead one of its elements.”

  “The right couple, Mister Lowell.” BA laughed quietly at the title. “Char and I work side by side in all things.”

  “Sweet. I would have it no other way. The Bad Company is built to acquire intelligence for the Federation and works to promote the Federation’s creed. If you accept the appointment I’m offering, you will be honor-bound to Empress Bethany Anne. You will fight for your brothers and sisters in the company. We run a lean operation to make sure that our profits, because we sell services and products, is self-sustaining. We handle intersystem exports and imports, along with military realignment. You would be in charge of the military branch.”

  Terry leaned forward in his seat. His elbows were on the table, and he stared at a point on the wall as he listened with rapt attention.

  “Terry Henry and Charumati from planet Earth, do you willingly join Bad Company? Will you consider yourself honor-bound to Empress Bethany Anne and fight for your brothers and sisters in the company?”

  Char looked at Terry. He looked back, but didn’t see her. His mind was embroiled within his own thoughts. He pushed away from the table and stood, clasping his hands behind his back as he began to pace.

  “Nathan. The offer is such an honor and you don’t even know me. I expect Akio has vouched for me and has told you that I’ve been honor-bound since the day his pod descended through the Colorado skies. From that day until now, I’ve done the Empress’ bidding as best as Akio, Char, and I could determine.” Terry squinted into the room’s soft lights. Those seated around the table waited patiently.

  “From my first days in the Corps, I fought for my brothers in arms. From the first day I met Char, I fought to protect her, and she fought to protect me. Our family started with Char’s pack, and grew with our kids and their families. All of them are our inner circle, people we trust with our lives, who trust us with theirs.”

  Terry looked for a glass of water, but there wasn’t anything. He coughed once and cleared his throat. He smiled at Char, and she nodded to him.

 

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