by B. V. Larson
She sighed. “Again with the brass? Why don’t you hang out with people on your own level, Centurion? There are plenty of—”
“Specialist Elkin,” I said, “I’m needing some help, and I need it right now. Can you do the job, or do you want me to call Kivi?”
Natasha’s voice stiffened a bit. She was jealous of Kivi—always had been.
“There’s no need to mine your email,” she said. “There are a half-dozen crises in progress right now. Any of them should suffice.”
“All right, list them.”
She muttered something, but I didn’t quite catch it, and I had a feeling I didn’t want to know what she’d said anyway.
“First off,” she said, “there’s the fact that thirty-eight percent of Legion Varus is still dead, sitting in the revival queue. Then there are the enemy troop movements to the north, where they’re clearly gathering strength to hit Armel’s fort next.”
“How long do we have?”
“Maybe three days—Storm World days.”
I computed that, and shook my head. Three Storm World days lasted about thirty-six hours. “That’s way too long. What do you have right now?”
“Um… there are always rumors.”
“About what?”
“Native troop movements, and that strange ship that’s lurking among the outer planets.”
My ears perked up. “A ship? What ship?”
“Unknown. It’s thought to be a Nairb ship, coming to spy on us. But it could be a Wur ship. We just don’t know. Either way, it’s keeping its distance, hanging around the gas giants in the outer system.”
My mind raced. “I think that will work,” I said. “Thanks, Natasha.”
“Uh… okay.”
I did an about-face and marched back toward Armel’s office.
“One more thing,” I told her. “Contact Graves and tell him Turov wants him to land now. He’s to bring down all the lifters, and he’s to report in person to Armel’s office.”
“Uh… isn’t he supposed to get a message like that from Turov herself?”
“Good idea… that’s good. Tell him to call her to confirm the details. Maybe she’ll have an agenda all printed out for him.”
“You’re sounding kind of strange, James,” she said. “What’s this all about?”
“Nothing,” I lied. “I’m just trying to be a supportive officer. We were hurt pretty bad down here. Except for Turov herself, I’m the most senior surviving Varus officer on this entire planet.”
“Ah,” she said. “Turov is making you her gopher, and you want an excuse to get out of mundane work. Now, I get it.”
I let her go with that one. It was as good a cover-up story as I could have created. Better even, since she’d come up with it herself. The most convincing lies are the ones people invent and tell themselves to explain the actions of others.
Marching back to Armel’s office, I tried to enter—but the two Blood Worlder giants didn’t open the door. I pushed, but it didn’t budge.
Suddenly, the odd design of Armel’s doors seemed more than cosmetic. By making these massively thick doors, he effectively kept people out.
Looking up at the giants, I glared at them.
“Do you two know who I am?” I asked loudly. “I’m James McGill. The Hero of Blood World!”
They stared at me with slack faces for a few seconds. Finally, the one on the left worked his rubbery lips.
“…McGill…” he said in an odd, rumbling voice. I got the feeling they weren’t used to talking much.
“That’s right. Open this door! I command you!”
They did it. I was as surprised as anyone, but I didn’t let it go to my head. After all, there was still the inner door to contend with.
Six sweeping strides took me to the second set of doors. Two heavy troopers stood there, looking at me curiously.
“Official business,” I said. “Open the doors.”
They didn’t answer, they didn’t budge—they didn’t do anything. They just stared at me.
To me, that indicated they had orders from Armel to leave the big doors shut.
Some secretary person was talking off to my right, but I was losing my cool by this time. The staffer wasn’t armed, so I ignored him completely.
Instead, I marched to the doors, and I hammered my fist on them. Then I tried to pull them open. They didn’t budge.
The heavy troopers didn’t try to stop me. They just looked at me like I was a crazy person. Maybe, just maybe, they were right.
Why was I doing this? I had to ask that, although I usually didn’t bother when I got into a bad mood.
Did I care about Galina? Or was I simply pissed that Armel was lifting his leg on what I considered to be my territory?
It was hard to say, but I was angry, and I’d lost it.
Drawing my pistol, I made ready to burn a hole in the door.
A massive hand came down from above and gripped mine. The Blood Worlder’s paw was so big it looked like somebody’s dad had grabbed hold of his child.
I looked up at those, piggish, stupid eyes. There was wisdom there. I could see it. Sure, he wasn’t going to ace the SATs, but he knew I was headed down a dark path, a path he was going to have to interrupt.
“Yeah…” I said. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
My gun went back into my holster, and the massive paw that had gripped me slipped away.
Heaving a deep sigh, I turned around. I was just going to have to walk out and save what I had left of my dignity today.
Then, the door opened.
Surprised, I turned around. I expected to see Armel giving me his widest, shittiest grin.
But instead it was Galina. She had her clothes on and everything.
Frowning, I watched as she walked out. Behind her I saw Armel trotting after.
“But Tribune,” he said. “Can I count you as my guest for dinner tonight?”
“Of course,” she said.
They both glanced up, noticing me.
“McGill?” Turov asked. “Do you have something to report?”
“Yes sir. There’s a strange ship in the system. I… I think we should discuss it.”
Her eyes widened a fraction then diminished again. They slid from side to side in a calculating way. Inside her head, I knew the demons of worry were whispering.
Galina knew I’d recently been involved in a foray to the Core Worlds. If this was a Nairb ship, it couldn’t be good news. Possibly, she could be under investigation herself.
She was more right than she knew. I hadn’t even told her about how I’d murdered old Xlur. There was much more going on than she suspected.
“I must go—right now,” she told Armel. He had a few grasping fingers on her elbow, but she pulled away and went with me.
Turning back, I took a quick look at Armel. One glance told me the tale.
He seemed annoyed—and that was all I needed to know. He hadn’t gotten anywhere with Galina.
I began to smile.
-45-
“How can you be in such a good mood?” she demanded when we were a hundred steps away from Armel’s overgrown set of doors.
“Um...” I said, unsure of how to answer. I couldn’t admit I was happy she’d obviously refused Armel’s attentions. A quick lie usually sprang to my lips at moments like this, but I was empty right now.
Her eyes searched mine for a moment, but she apparently didn’t like the blank look I returned.
“Are you really an imbecile?” she demanded in a loud whisper. “This ship is probably a Nairb vessel. They haven’t come out here to Province 921 for years.”
“Well, technically,” I said, “this isn’t Province 921. We’re out past the rim. This is frontier territory, what used to be Province 929.”
She stared at me in surprise. I’d dumped a little info on her partly to throw her off—but mostly because I didn’t like being called a dummy.
“How the hell did you know about that?” she hissed.
<
br /> There… that was perfect. She was off the track and running the wrong way again. I allowed myself a tiny smile of victory. She had no idea I was here due to jealousy.
“I know lots of stuff,” I said.
“No one knows about old 929. No one knows the Empire has had… difficulties in recent centuries.”
“Difficulties? You mean like civil war, decay, and outright shrinking borders?”
Her eyes inspected the Blood Worlders and squids that wandered the halls. The squids were watchful, and when you saw them staring, you always had to wonder what evil thoughts were going on inside their alien minds.
Apparently, Galina felt the same way. “Not another word. Come with me.”
She led me to her newly assigned courtesy quarters in Gold Bunker. A primus had been kicked out to give it to her, and he was just packing up as we arrived.
“Oh…” I said, recognizing the guy. “Primus Fike! Good to see you again, sir. We’ll soon be in battle together, shoulder-to-shoulder.”
He gave me a sour glance. He’d once been a proud leader in the Iron Eagles, and I’d made his acquaintance on Dark World. Unfortunately, he’d died the hard way back then, and he seemed to recall the event vividly.
“McGill…” he said. “I remember your unit. You stood by as my troops marched into a Vulbite ambush.”
“Nonsense, sir!” I said enthusiastically. “Don’t sell yourself short! You guys gave them hell, but there were just too many of the enemy. By the way, your fresh younger body looks good on you.”
I grinned at him the whole time he glowered and hauled his stuff out of the tiny apartment. There was a desk, a bar, a bed and a bathroom. That was about everything a man needed to be comfortable in my book.
The minute he was gone, I stretched out on the bed and sighed heavily.
Galina stood over me with her fists on her hips. “What do you think you’re doing, McGill?”
“Taking a break. My bones hurt after fighting all damned day and night.”
“It is late…” she said, glancing at her tapper. “I should probably send you to one of the other bunkers. I don’t want people talking.”
“Aw now, come on! Squids don’t care about where humans sleep.”
“But Fike does. Why do you have to antagonize people like that? You should be polite to him.”
“I thought I was. I never even mentioned his humiliating transfer to this zoo legion.”
“Zoo legion? More insults? That’s it, you’re out of here.”
“Hold on, hold on,” I said, seeing she was seriously considering throwing me out. I had plans, and they didn’t including hiking in more mud and sleeping on a rolled-out mat in some basement full of Blood Worlders. “We’ve got to talk. For reals.”
She took my measure again, and she sighed. “All right. What are you hinting about?”
I told her then. She was the first person, besides myself, to learn what had really happened out on Mogwa Prime.
Galina wasn’t happy. She pulled back a long ways, and then she came at me with a roundhouse, slapping me a good one across the cheek. I let her do it, not even trying to block her hand. A trickle of blood stained my teeth.
“Are you shitting me?” she demanded. “You killed Xlur again? On his home planet, no less?”
“Yeah…” I admitted. “I think it was right next to his own bedroom this time. I just didn’t see another way out. I didn’t have the book, he was figuring that out, and I—”
She slapped me again, from the other side. This time, it landed on my ear and kind of hurt. I hadn’t expected that second one, so I looked up in annoyance.
Galina put her face down into mine, her teeth clenched and angry. “You should have killed yourself without harming Xlur. The Mogwa will never believe this was a legitimate suicide.”
“Why not? He was kind of a sad failure.”
“Because Mogwa don’t kill themselves. They aren’t fools—they’re narcissists.”
I thought that one over, and I had to admit, she had a point. The Mogwa weren’t human. They were aliens, and they followed their own behavioral rules. Hell, for all I knew, they lacked the capacity to feel depression at all.
“But… all he did was complain about being sent out to dismal frontier provinces as an exile. A governorship out here is like a prison sentence to them.”
“That’s very interesting, McGill. But even if I accept your credentials as an unlicensed xenologist, the fact remains you risked Humanity because you were bored with the Core Worlds.”
I scratched my neck, feeling a trifle self-conscious. “Well… you’ve got a point there.”
That hand came up again, but she didn’t slap me this time. Instead, she wrapped her arms over her breasts and started pacing around like she was comforting herself. My dreams of a sultry night were fading fast, I don’t mind telling you.
“A massive fuck-up,” she said. “You’ve turned a humiliating defeat into a full-fledged shit-show. How are you going to get us out of this?”
“Um…”
“That’s what I thought. You have no idea at all.”
She stopped pacing and propped her butt up against Fike’s desk. She was thinking hard, I could tell.
“We have to try to establish communications with the Nairb ship,” she said at last.
“But we don’t even know if it is a Nairb ship.”
“What the hell else would it be? You’ve seen them operate before. The first thing any cautious delegation of Nairbs does is scout the system in question from a safe vantage point in the outer system. Then, when they understand the situation and the players, they move in and make their demands known.”
She was absolutely right, of course. I’d seen the Empire’s most bureaucratic race behave like this more than once. I still had my doubts, but the odds were she was correct.
“Okay. What are your orders, sir?”
“What can we do…?”
“We could blow up their ship. We did that back at Rogue World.”
Galina closed her pretty eyes for a moment as if in pain. “Why would you remind me of that disaster now?”
I shrugged. “Just a thought.”
Her face screwed up with horrid indecision. Finally, she contacted Graves. Despite the fact it was about midnight local time, he answered immediately.
“What is it, Tribune?”
“Graves… contact that ship: the one lurking among the outer planets.”
“We don’t know who they are, sir. We don’t have probes out that far, and they—”
“It’s the Nairbs, Primus. It has to be.”
He was quiet for a second. Galina had him on speaker through her tapper, and I could hear it all.
“Are you saying that because you have some inside knowledge on the topic?” he asked at last.
Galina glanced at me, and I gave her a tired thumbs-up. She rolled her eyes.
“It doesn’t matter. Assume they are Nairbs. Greet them with enthusiasm and inform them Earth is responding to a distress call in the frontier region. Suggest they are welcome to watch, but should stay out of weapons range as we can’t guarantee the safety of civilians.”
“Do you want this going out in the clear?” Graves asked.
She hesitated, but only for a moment. “Yes.”
“Got it. Will transmit. Due to the range, however, it will take about four light-hours to reach them, and four more to get a reply—should they choose to answer at all.”
“I understand. Turov out.”
Sighing, she collapsed on the bed beside me. “Between you, this ship, Armel and those shitty trees today, I can hardly breathe.”
“Armel really worked you over, huh?” I asked.
She looked at me quizzically. Then, suddenly, a sly smile appeared on her face. She sat up and touched my cheek with one finger.
“You’re jealous,” she said. “Ah-ah—don’t even bother to deny it. I saw something on your face before, but I didn’t quite understand it then… now I do.”
>
“That’s crazy-talk.”
“Sure it is. Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. But I have to admit, I’m feeling better—proud, even. After all, how many girls have wasted their hours worrying about you? This is an opportunity to even the score for them.”
I didn’t like the way she was talking, so I didn’t answer.
She continued to run her finger over my cheek. It took me a moment to realize she was outlining the mark she’d left on my face with her previous slaps.
“Armel did give it a try,” she told me, moving closer. “But you already knew that, didn’t you? It takes one cad to know another.”’
My eyes studied the ceiling. I tried to look unconcerned, but I didn’t think it was working.
“No interest, huh?” she said, getting up and standing at the foot of the bed. “Well… I’m not tired. I think I’ll go for a walk. Don’t wait up.”
She didn’t make it to the door. I was up, and my arm was blocking her before she took three steps toward it.
“I could have you up on report,” she said in a silky tone.
“You can report me in the morning, sir.”
I kissed her then, and she responded nicely. Somehow, I was more into it than usual.
Did that mean I had serious feelings for Galina Turov? Lord, help me...
When I lifted her up and carried her back to her bed, she whispered in my ear. “Armel didn’t get anything.”
“I know.”
She laughed. “Yes, I suppose that you do. He tried, mind you, but I didn’t even let him kiss my fingers. Why do men do that, anyway? I don’t like it. Such an act makes them seem weak to me.”
Tired of talk, I grabbed her, and she went with it.
A short time later I was busy demonstrating I was anything but a weak man. She liked that, and we fell asleep soon after.
-46-
Morning came all too soon. Galina and I barely had time for breakfast before we were receiving emergency messages on our tappers. The lifters were on their way down from the transport and due to land outside shortly. Graves was in charge of the deployment, and he’d apparently been working the whole time we’d been sleeping together.
But that wasn’t the big news. What concerned us more was the unidentified ship—it was on the move.