Storm World (Undying Mercenaries Series Book 10)

by B. V. Larson

  “Um… that’s right, sir. I’m a barbarian. Rude and uninformed.”

  “Normally, I’d have you flailed and boiled for your remarks. But unfortunately, I have need of you. Besides, you are essentially correct. Every moment I spend out on the rim is a moment forever lost to me. A tragic waste of my life-essence.”

  “Hmm…” I said. “Can’t you get any nice lady-Mogwas to share your palace with you—or whatever you have in Province 921?”

  “Palace? Your province has nothing that would qualify. But in any case, no female of my species would ever ponder joining an official like me in banishment. The size of my domicile would not matter. Only a male’s proximity to the city-world can impress a female.”

  I thought about the various women that I’d dealt with in my lifetime. “You know, I think I’ve had the same experience for decades. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’ve managed to entice more than my share of females out to my shack in the swamp, to be sure. But those brief visits always turned out to be a temporary fling. They’ve always started yearning to return to some city or another...”

  He eyed me coldly for a moment. “Are you mocking me?”

  “Um… I don’t think so.”

  He turned away. His sides puffed up then slowly deflated, making a long, drawn out farting sound.

  Could I be witnessing a Mogwa releasing a long sigh?

  “You’ve deepened my self-disgust,” he said. “The mere idea I could have shared life-experiences with one of you brutes—it’s too depressing to contemplate.”

  We pressed onward. Soon, we passed factories, space-yards, food dispensaries and slave pens. None of them looked all that appealing to me.

  Mogwa design, I slowly began to realize, wasn’t artistic or expressive in any way. It was almost purely functional. They wouldn’t have known how to build an attractive structure if their cold little hearts depended on it.

  As a result, this Core World was impressive due to their advanced tech, the sprawling nature of the city, and their glorious sky. But it was also cramped and drab for the most part. Maybe that was due to the fact it had to be home to trillions. When you had those kinds of numbers, you didn’t have a lot of room left over for bric-a-brac.

  “Here, this is the download station,” Xlur said, stopping and guiding me into another small chamber.

  I entered cautiously. Inside, I found a lump of brown flesh in the shape of a mushroom. It was about the size of a footstool, and it sprouted all kinds of living tubes and insulated wires.

  “Ah,” I said, finding a port I recognized. “Here’s a Galactic standard connector. Is this for power, or data?”

  “Either, depending on the need. Kindly plug in and download your data. When you’re finished, I’ll send it to the labs to be analyzed.”

  “What happens to me after that?”

  “Depending on the results, you’ll be returned to Earth quickly… or slowly.”

  “Um…” I said, thinking that over.

  I was pretty sure I got the idea. If they liked the quality of my work, I’d be killed quickly and a revival order would be sent to Earth. Death was the only way I was going to get home, I’d already figured that out.

  But if they weren’t happy with the data I was carrying, they’d take it slow. Torment? Perhaps a permanent death afterward? The possibilities didn’t warrant thinking about.

  Now, I’m not a man who sweats easily. But this was a tough spot, even by my standards. The key to my troubles was simple enough: I didn’t have the data they wanted. Not a word of it.

  Feeling a tickle of perspiration under my arms, I sniffed and lifted my tapper. Giving it a shot, I checked the virtual trash can to see if I could undelete my deleted message.

  Of course, that didn’t work. Encrypted messages stayed deleted on modern tappers—especially after you died.

  “Hmm…” I said, taking up the Galactic standard cable again.

  Xlur shuffled a pace closer, watching me.

  He was no dummy, but he clearly had no idea what I was thinking. My immediate instinct was to rip the cord out of his fleshy bio-computer, wrap it around his slimy neck and strangle him.

  I almost did it, too. But then I had a better idea.

  -21-

  For many years I’d gotten by on my brawn at least as often as I had my brain. Seeing no other option, I considered killing the Mogwa—that would be, what…? the third time around for old Xlur? The thought made me smirk.

  But I quickly passed on the idea. It would be satisfying, sure. I might even indulge myself in a few extra minutes of existence afterward, having a good laugh before about a trillion of his relations got smart and came to check on his flat-lined vitals.

  Nope… for once, violence didn’t seem to offer any kind of satisfactory solutions. I was going to have to use my brain instead.

  “What is the source of this delay?” Xlur demanded. “Can you be so ignorant? Plug into the device, human. I’m anxious to see the merchandise you’ve brought me.”

  Sighing, I plugged in the cable. There was a port under a flap of skin on my lower forearm. I rarely used it, as practically all communication was wireless these days.

  The bulbous living computer I’d plugged into throbbed and pulsated when I connected myself to it. That was freaky. I was used to indicator lights, beeps and tones—but not to a slow throbbing.

  The bio-computer searched my tapper thoroughly. It downloaded everything it could, and then it released a small, unpleasant smell.

  “What the…?” I asked, wrinkling my nose.

  “The process has finished. I will now send the contents of your tapper to the labs for analysis.”

  The Mogwa turned to go, but I spoke up.

  “Um… Mr. Mogwa, sir? I mean, Chief Inspector?”

  “What is it, creature?”

  “I’m not sure you can read the file I brought… It’s encrypted.”

  He blinked at me. “Avoidance? Extortion? You dare?”

  “Um…”

  “Know this, McGill-creature: I’ll not be abused. I’ve been as patient and cordial as possible. You’ve been honored with this opportunity to visit the greatest of the Core Worlds, a fantastic boon. But that will in no way stop justice from exacting revenge upon your person. You—”

  “Hold on, hold on!” I said. “I’m not trying to make any demands. My concerns are all practical. I’m not sure you can read all the files I just gave you: especially the one that really matters.”

  He organized his clusters of optical organs to study me.

  “Why would your superiors send you all this way to the center of the galaxy with useless data files?”

  “They’re not useless,” I said. “I can translate them if needed.”

  The Mogwa squinted at me. It was one of the few gestures that seemed familiar. Almost every species protected its eyes in some manner when they examined something unpleasant.

  “Very well,” he said. “We will await the response from our labs.”

  A few long minutes passed. I tried to make conversation, but he wasn’t interested. He just thumped around me in circles, clicking and farting to himself. I could tell he was stressed.

  “Chief Inspector?” I asked. “Can you tell me what this means to you, personally, if I can get you the data you’ve been promised?”

  Xlur finally took notice of me and stopped muttering to himself in his strange language.

  “How do you seek to twist my responses to your advantage?” he asked.

  “Um… I don’t, sir. Just making idle conversation while we wait.”

  Xlur ruffled his lobes. It reminded me of the way a pissed-off bird might fluff up then slowly shrink again when it’s annoyed.

  “The facts can’t hurt, I suppose, and they should be obvious to any thinking creature. You must be mentally challenged if you haven’t figured it out by now.”

  “I’m a card-carrying retard, sir. That’s what they call me back home.”

  “Unsurprising… To answer your question,
I hope to reveal a valuable threat to the crown. By doing so, I’ll elevate my status. With luck, I’ll be brought home, leading the cruel life of an exile no longer.”

  “Ah-ha!” I said, grinning. “I kind of thought that was what you’d say. You want to come back home and start a family of little Mogwas, don’t you?”

  “These words, coming from a crude frontier creature such as you, are painful to my spirit.”

  “I’m sorry about that, sir. I truly am. I hope you get home again—permanently.”

  “Your well-wishes aren’t necessary. All that is required is that you perform your function as a messenger— Ah! The lab has just returned the results.”

  “And?” I asked brightly. “Let me guess: they managed to convert it all, didn’t they? I shouldn’t have even doubted your Galactic geniuses, sir. I knew in my heart your techs are so much better than ours that we’d never be able to encrypt anything that they couldn’t—”

  “Silence, creature! The labs have discovered many files, but they are all useless garbage. Reports, images, advertisements for questionable products—all completely useless.”

  “Oh…” I said, lifting an index finger into his face. “You see, that’s the genius of our encryption. The files aren’t altered using some methodical mathematical formula. No, no, it’s all based on idioms, see. Details of my life history, woven together to tell a story that only I could—”

  “Yes, yes, yes. Whatever. Can you translate it? Quickly?”

  “Like greased-lightning, Chief Inspector! You won’t even believe how fast I can work once I’m all warmed up and in the zone.”

  His eyes followed me for a time, and I sensed a malevolent light in them. Had I, perhaps, pushed things too far? Was he beginning to suspect I had absolutely nothing and was just stalling for time?

  “Why would Earth send this data in an encrypted format? Especially using a method so elaborate and arcane?”

  “Why, I’d think that was obvious, sir. We wouldn’t want something so dangerous to fall into enemy hands, would we?”

  Xlur shuffled uneasily. “Enemy hands? What do you know of our enemies?”

  “I know you’re in a struggle here in the Core Systems. A long, drawn-out civil war.”

  “That description is overly dramatic,” he stated. “We’re merely experiencing differences of perspective among the leadership of the galaxy. The Galactic Council has made appreciable headway recently, and all is sure to be resolved promptly.”

  “Thousands of worlds scorched bare?” I interrupted. “Suns exploded, turned inside out and driven to nova? That’s some difference in perspective.”

  “That information shouldn’t be available out on the frontier!”

  “I’m sorry, sir,” I said. “But I don’t see how hiding facts is going to benefit our side in this righteous conflict. What are you going to use this formula for, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  He looked at me guardedly for a moment before answering. “I suppose I can confide safely in the courier-beast that possesses the formula itself. My plan is to enlighten and elevate the Mogwa elite. I’m sure to gain notoriety and importance with this frightening discovery. As a hero who has removed a deadly threat, they’re sure to listen to my clever contributions. So armed, our envoys will be able to present an unassailable argument for the throne.”

  “You don’t say… Well then, how about I get to work? This book isn’t deciphering itself.”

  For about five long seconds, the Mogwa studied me again. At last, however, the spell was broken.

  “All right,” he said. “You will live for now, human. My plan was to dispatch you, of course, the instant the message was cleanly transferred to my data system. Clearly, my plans must be time-shifted forward.”

  “Sorry for the inconvenience, sir.”

  “Your sorrow is pointless. Begin the translation immediately.”

  “Sure thing, sir. I’ll just need a few things to work with…”

  “What’s this? Demands?!”

  “No, no, no, sir. Far from it. But I came to your world buck-naked, with no tools or food. I’ll need something to write with, and something to drink—and eat, of course.”

  Xlur made some nasty sounds. “This process sounds lengthy. You will do no writing. You’ll dictate your words into this organ.”

  He indicated a conical ear that had sprouted up on this mushroom-shaped computer.

  “Okay… and what about the food and drink, sir?”

  “Bah… very well. I will procure suitable items.”

  “Excellent!” I said. “Steaks would be best to start with. I’ve never been much of a salad-man. Three thick cuts will do the trick, along with some beer if you’ve got it. You’ve tasted these flavors before, I believe, back on Earth?”

  Xlur made a lot of bad smells and evil noises as he left to find me some grub. I’d honestly expected to see him summon up a servant to bring the stuff to me—but he went to get it himself.

  I couldn’t help but grin as I saw him hump his way out into the permanently crowded walkways.

  By this time, I’d figured out I was sitting in his apartment. He had no staff, and he was doing all this on the cheap. Among his kind, Xlur really was a low-caste individual.

  Chuckling to myself, I stretched out on his bunk for a nap. It was short and damp, but I didn’t mind. After all, how many earthmen could truthfully say they’d been waited on by an honest-to-God Mogwa governor?

  -22-

  Needless to say, the translation of the secret document I’d erased on my tapper didn’t go well—mostly because the document was imaginary.

  On top of that, I’d read the original book years ago, but I’d pretty much forgotten everything. I’d found the book to be kind of boring, if the truth were to be told.

  Naturally, I couldn’t afford the truth to come out. On a philosophical note, I’d often found the truth was a luxury beyond my reach under the best of circumstances.

  As a result, the mess I dredged up from memory didn’t sound much like original. Worse, my version of The Eaters of Lotus seemed to deviate further with every page I wrote.

  What seemed to bug Xlur the most, however, was the speed of my progress—or lack thereof. I’d be the first to admit I’m not a terribly fast writer. Anyone who’s had the misfortune to try and teach me a course in English could attest to that.

  Finally, after about three grueling days, Xlur lost his cool.

  “All you do is eat!” he boomed at me. “You are a useless creature!”

  “That’s not true,” I said. “I sleep a lot, too. Translations like this take time, Chief Inspector. Isn’t patience a virtue among the Mogwa?”

  He was enraged. I’ve pissed off a lot of humans and aliens in my day, so I knew the telltale signs all too well.

  “This venture is pointless,” he said. “I will demand restitution from Turov. She will be punished the next time I go back to Earth—perhaps your entire species will be erased with her.”

  “Uh…” I said, thinking that over.

  To my mind Xlur had just made a critical error. He’d informed me in no uncertain terms that the game was up. Compounded with several of his additional errors, the primary one being the fact he’d given me a few days to plan things out, he was skating on thin ice.

  He had no idea what I was thinking, of course. The Mogwa are so accustomed to abject obedience they’ve become over-confident and arrogant, in my opinion.

  As I watched, he calmly took out some kind of gadget. It looked like a brass nozzle a man might screw onto the end of a hose to water the garden with.

  But I knew better. It was a weapon, a regional disintegrator.

  Disintegrators were pretty cool devices, actually. Like magic wands, they detected a mass in nearby space, figured out where its boundaries were, and then broke the molecular bonds between the atoms that made up that mass. The target—in this case my outsized body—was then transformed into an ashy mound of powdery gray dust. The entire process took less than a se
cond.

  Fortunately, Xlur’s actions didn’t take me by surprise. Over the last few days, I’d done a bit of creative writing for him, but I’d also researched my environment. I’d found the disintegrator and modified it.

  That might sound like an intensive technical chore, something that only a genius like Natasha was capable of. But in this case, the device was so simply constructed that all I had to do was take out the central parabolic crystal, turn it around, and insert it back into the weapon.

  Xlur’s eventual use of this odd weapon was all part of my grand plan—but I’d miscalculated. I’d figured he’d threaten me with it first to get more work out of me.

  But he didn’t even bother. Xlur was a decisive alien. He clearly intended to erase me from his apartment without making so much as a single doom-laden ultimatum.

  “Uh…” I said, watching him pick up his toy. “That’s not a good idea, Xlur.”

  “It’s the best idea I’ve had since falling for this fraudulent scheme,” he said. “I should have done it the moment I identified your shivering body. The mere stink of your person is unbearable. Living here with an ape for days—”

  That was about as far as I could let him get. He’d been lifting his weapon, now fully activated, and aiming it toward my chest. There wasn’t much time left, and I could tell already I was never going to talk him down before he pulled the trigger.

  I moved. There was a flash of metal and a thunking sound. Then, to finish things off, we both heard a wet slap as something fell away from Xlur’s body.

  Xlur shivered in pain and slithered away.

  “You slashed off my hand!” he complained.

  But then, he began to laugh. “You’re an abject a failure, human! You can’t even rebel properly. You missed and cut off the wrong appendage.”

  I shrugged and waved around the monofilament knife I’d used to cut him. It was the only weapon I’d found in his apartment that I knew how to use.

  “You’d better get on with my execution, then,” I said. “I’m liable to hit the right spot next time.”