Steel World

by Larson, B. V.

  We got up, whooping, and charged after it.

  The car crashed down into one of the puff-crete walls. I think the pilot had been trying to make it over the wall and out into the jungle—but he didn’t make it.

  We swarmed the smoking car, standing on the hood and slanting windshield. The shields sparked and buzzed around our boots. Everyone had a gun trained on the passenger compartment, but the windows were dark.

  “Open up!” I shouted. “Or we’ll shoot our way in.”

  The window on the passenger side buzzed open. It was dark inside. We all peered in, trying to get a look at whoever was in there.

  “Come out,” I said. “You’re trespassing in a combat zone.”

  I heard series of clicks, and then the artificial voice of a translator spoke: “You have made a grave error.”

  “This is a combat zone. All non-friendly vehicles can and will be treated as hostile. Who are you?”

  Carlos was on the roof of the car, and I was standing at the door. Slowly, a figure unloaded itself. I could tell right away it was some kind of alien by the way it moved. I snapped on a light and was startled.

  I’d seen this kind of thing before. It was an alien with six hands—or six feet, depending on how you looked at it. The limbs were long and spindly and between them hung a heavy, bloated thorax. In a way, it reminded me of a black widow spider.

  The hands gripped the edge of the car door and it hauled its body out of the seat. It moved slowly, almost painfully. I wasn’t sure if it was injured or just being cautious. Then again, maybe it moved at a sedate pace naturally, like a sloth.

  It was bigger than a human, but not absurdly so. If I had to guess, I’d say it weighed about three hundred pounds—and two hundred of that was probably located in that central, dragging belly.

  Carlos made a little gasping sound when it emerged. The rest of the team stepped back a pace and gripped their rifles tightly. Unlike them, Carlos squatted on the roof over its head.

  “What an ugly mother!” he said, his voice full of disgust.

  The translator clicked again. “How dare you direct a weapon toward my person?”

  I realized the alien must be talking to me. One of its hands extended toward me—toward my upraised weapon.

  Thud! Carlos slammed the butt of his rifle onto its head-section. At least, it looked like a head. It was smaller than a human skull, but it seemed to contain a cluster of sensory organs.

  The alien froze for a second then sank down. Its limbs folded underneath it.

  “That doesn’t look good,” Carlos said.

  “You killed it!” I hissed at him. “You idiot, we didn’t even get to ask it any questions.”

  “It was reaching for your weapon. You saw it, didn’t you, Kivi?”

  “Just keep me out of this,” she said, coming forward warily to investigate.

  “Are there any more of them in there?” asked Carlos, poking his nose into the interior.

  I pushed him away. “You’ve done enough. The creature was alone and unarmed.”

  “Huh,” he said, prodding it with his toe.

  I gave him a shove and he staggered backward.

  “Just trying to see if it’s still alive,” he said, glaring.

  As he said this, the creature stirred weakly. It didn’t speak, and fluids were running from its head section.

  “Kivi,” I said, “get into the car on other side. See if you can find a com system.”

  Fortunately, except for the interface which had to be specialized for various species, Galactic com systems were fairly universal in their appearance and operation. Kivi found a unit and quickly connected with Corvus.

  “They want to know what we’re doing down here,” she told me.

  I looked at the alien, who was no longer moving.

  “Tell them we’re engaged in diplomatic negotiations.”

  Carlos laughed at that. He soon had another hatch door open and was rummaging in the car.

  “Hey, you know what?” he called out to me. “I think this guy is an alien—I mean one of your aliens, James. This proves you weren’t just crazy-drunk the other night.”

  “Who said I was?”

  “Everyone.”

  “Hey, McGill,” Kivi called out to me. “They want to talk to you.”

  I tried to swallow, but my throat was dry. I wasn’t sure if I was a hero or a villain, but I was certain I had some explaining to do.

  Kivi patched the com channel to my helmet.

  “Recruit James McGill online, sir.”

  “You’re a recruit?” asked a female voice. I thought I might recognize it, but I wasn’t sure. “This is Primus Turov. I asked to talk to the team leader.”

  I had it now. Primus Turov was my primus, Centurion Graves’ direct superior.

  “I’m sorry sir, but I’m all that’s left. We lost our veteran and the unit centurion.”

  “Pathetic. All right McGill, report.”

  I hesitated. How much should I confess over this transmission? Were there more of these aliens gliding around the camp, ready to invade? For all I knew, this one had already transmitted for help to its saurian friends.

  “We’re in trouble. We were trapped and ambushed at the lowest level of the mine by about twenty saurians, both raptors and juggers. We retreated and fought for hours. We finally found the tunnel they used to enter the mining complex and escaped through it.”

  “We’ve pinpointed your position. You’re in the middle of the base camp.”

  “That’s right sir, and we’ve just brought down an air car that was apparently spying on us.”

  “An air car? You brought it down? Who gave you orders to do so?”

  “I acted on my own initiative. We were left here, cut off, with no—”

  “What’s the condition of the air car? Are there survivors?”

  “We found one alien. It appears to be the same species that I encountered earlier on patrol. Identification should be much easier now that we have—”

  “Listen to me, Recruit: is that alien alive?”

  “Uh…I’m not certain, Primus. It has suffered injuries.”

  “You had best pray that it is unharmed. Guard that alien with your life. I’m sending down a lifter. Standby.”

  I stood there dumbfounded as the connection broke. Carlos came to me and clapped me on the shoulder.

  “I listened in,” he said. “Looks like you screwed up, big-time.”

  I threw his hand off and cocked back my fist to punch him.

  “You fool!” I shouted. “I didn’t tell you to attack that alien. You are responsible for this!”

  “Hold on! We all know who’s in command here, don’t we, people?” He swiveled his head and examined the crew.

  They all looked uncertain. Finally Kivi spoke up. “No. You did it without orders.”

  “Oh yeah, sure,” he said. “Right. I can see how it is. Why don’t you all just fill me with metal right now? That would be a better alibi, wouldn’t it? I went nuts, you shot me down, and then—”

  I put the muzzle of my snap-rifle against his head. He froze.

  “Don’t tempt me any further,” I said.

  “Okay, whatever.”

  The lifter came down to pick us up—or rather, to pick the alien up. They virtually ignored us, shoving us out of the way. A team of bio specialists ran in with some anti-grav gurney and carefully transferred the injured alien onto it. Then they rushed away. We followed, walking, but when we saw the ramp was already going up, we ran to it and hustled up into the ship.

  I found a porthole and looked down at Cancri-9, which was all mist and darkness in the night. I wondered if I’d ever see this alien world again. I had to admit, I wasn’t missing it yet.

  An hour later, I found myself facing Adjunct Leeson and Primus Turov. Neither of them was happy. The worst part was, I wasn’t entirely sure what I’d done wrong.

  As I stood at attention, I reminded myself that I’d been in this position before, being shouted at
by a group of officers. I kept my eyes straight, my face neutral, and I did my best not to react to the abuse my superiors were heaping upon me.

  To be sure, it seemed grossly unfair. By my accounting, I was a hero. I’d led my team out of the mines, and after Centurion Graves’ sacrifice, there hadn’t been a single casualty added to the list on my watch.

  We went over the story again from the top. Same questions, same order, same answers.

  “Who told you to exit the mine through the shaft, Recruit?” Primus Turov demanded.

  “No one, sir,” I said. “I did it on my own initiative.”

  “And when you reached base camp, who ordered you to shoot down the air car?”

  “No one, sir.”

  “May I ask you again, who put you in charge?”

  “We were surrounded by hostiles. Centurion Graves decided to use our only plasma grenade on the enemy, and he delivered it by running into their midst. It was a brave moment of self-sacrifice.”

  Turov uncrossed her arms just long enough to motion impatiently for me to get on with my story.

  “As he left us, he told everyone I was in charge. From that point on, I was in command of the team.”

  She leaned forward, and her butt lifted from the desk she’d been sitting on. She came close enough so that I could feel her body heat. I wanted to look down at her, but I didn’t. I kept staring ahead and remained at attention.

  “Do you know who was aboard that air car?”

  This was a new question. One she hadn’t posed five times previously.

  “An alien, sir. Alien to Earth, alien to Cancri-9. Origins unknown the last I’d heard from our bio techs. It was the same type of alien I’d encountered before in the forest on patrol.”

  “And that previous alien, you also killed him, am I correct?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Had either of these aliens at any time attacked you? Did they fire upon you? Did they perform some other overtly hostile act?”

  I paused. “No. The first one was in a forest full of enemy combatants, however. The second was on the scene of what appeared to be a wiped out camp with no living legionnaires in sight. I took action based on the situation I was in.”

  Turov chuckled and shook her head. She turned to Adjunct Leeson. “He’s screwed us good. No excuse. Nothing.”

  I glanced after her and frowned. When she looked back, I flicked my eyes to the forward bulkhead again.

  “Do you have something to add, Recruit?”

  “I—I just don’t understand, sir. Have we identified the alien that I encountered?”

  “Indeed we have. That’s the core of the problem. Do you want to know the scope of the damage you’ve done?”

  I was beginning to sweat. Having acted without authority was one thing, but she seemed to be indicating this matter had exploded into some kind of diplomatic incident.

  “I can only assume that the aliens were innocent, and that we acted without full knowledge of the situation.”

  “No,” she said dryly, heaving a sigh. “The alien was far from innocent. None of his kind are.”

  I turned my head and looked at her. “Who are they, if I may ask, Primus?”

  She stared back at me. “We weren’t sure at first. But now we are. We sent the data off-planet for identification, and all hell broke loose. You see, we don’t have their blood samples on hand for obvious reasons.”

  The reasons weren’t obvious to me, but I waited patiently, hoping everything would be made clear to me.

  Turov opened her mouth to speak further, but the door chimed. “Come in!” she shouted irritably.

  The portal opened and a familiar face met mine. It was none other than Veteran Harris. He looked sick. He leaned on the doorframe with one hand and took a shuffling step forward.

  “Veteran Harris?” Leeson asked. “What are you doing here? You should be in recovery, man. How long has it been since you came out of the revival machine?”

  “A few minutes,” he said. His eyes were only half-open. He had his uniform on, but it looked like he’d pulled it over wet skin and it hung on his frame unevenly.

  “Get back to the infirmary.”

  “If I might ask to be present, sir…” he said.

  Leeson looked at Turov.

  Turov sighed.

  “All right,” she said. “He’s your man. There should be a witness from his unit, anyway. I think there’s a regulation to that effect. But if you pass out on this deck, I’m throwing you out into the passageway until this is over.”

  I watched this interchange with growing bewilderment. A witness from his unit? What did that mean? And why had Harris worked so hard to drag himself out of medical to this scolding, anyway?

  Turov turned back to me. She stared at me for several seconds, looking me up and down.

  “It’s a shame, really,” she said quietly. “We value recruits like you, McGill. Did you know that? Men who show initiative and leadership. Natural-born killers who shoot first and sort the enemy out later are useful. Under different circumstances, I’d call you a hero and give you a commendation. I’ve handed out promotions for less, in fact.”

  I opened my mouth to speak but closed it again. As long as an officer is heaping praise on you, it’s best to stay quiet.

  She turned to Adjunct Leeson. “Is the inspector able to join us yet?”

  Leeson checked his tapper. “He’s coming down the hall now.”

  The door chimed again, and everyone stiffened. Even the primus looked nervous. They opened the door and a now-familiar alien stepped into the room. It was none other than the six-handed creature I’d had run-ins with on two occasions.

  “James McGill,” the Primus said, “let me introduce you to Inspector Xlur. He honors all of us with his presence.”

  I looked from one of them to the next. I didn’t really understand what was going on.

  “An honor to meet you, Inspector,” I said.

  The alien didn’t look at me. It looked instead at the primus. A click sounded, and the translator scratched out words: “It still lives. Why has this matter not been attended to?”

  “We thought you might wish to witness the event so that there could be no doubt.”

  “Get on with it, then.”

  Primus Turov turned to me and straightened her body. “Recruit James McGill of Legion Varus, I hereby sentence you to perma-death. The sentence is to be carried out immediately.”

  Turov then took a step backwards and nodded to Leeson, who lifted his weapon.

  I was in shock. I’d been surprised by the alien, but I had no idea I was going to be executed. Reflexively, I reached for my sidearm—but of course, it wasn’t there. I’d been ordered to leave it behind when I came to this “briefing”.

  “I don’t understand,” I said loudly. “Who is this alien? How can I be executed for a crime I don’t even comprehend?”

  “James,” said the primus, staring at me. “Inspector Xlur is a Galactic. One of the many species from the core of the galaxy. He is here to observe—and you should recognize him. You killed him twice within the span of a few days.”

  I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. I was stunned. We’d never seen the Galactics on Earth. Naturally, there were plenty of vids of their ships. They had a vast armada that had once visited our backwater world and threatened to blow it up. But they never socialized with us directly.

  Like most earthers, I’d always thought the Galactics looked like the mollusk race that had come to negotiate with us. But now I realized that species was just another member of the empire. Perhaps they traded services, such as their diplomatic expertise.

  So here, standing before me on it six hands, was a true Galactic: A spider-like creature with warm, dark blood. At least I knew they could bleed like we could.

  Leeson worked his weapon, ratcheting the muzzle. It wouldn’t do if the hull was pierced by a stray bullet. I watched him—watched his hands moving—as if in a dream. I was trying to think of a way out of this,
but I didn’t see one. I thought about physically attacking them—that was my first instinct, I admit.

  I didn’t feel guilty, I felt angry. What I did next came a surprise to everyone, including me. I stepped toward Inspector Xlur, baring my teeth like an animal. I wanted to dig my thumbs into those soft sensory organs of his. If their skulls were as thin as I suspected they were, maybe I could kill him a third time with my bare hands.

  A gun muzzle touched my chest. I heard the chamber rattle. Six times—or maybe it was seven. It’s hard to count bullets as they’re slamming into your body.

  I fell to my knees, and looked up. Veteran Harris looked back. It was his gun that had unloaded into my chest.

  I didn’t feel pain. Not exactly. It was more like being dizzy, sick and weak. I fell forward onto my face, and I had time to roll onto my back.

  “Vicious creatures,” the Inspector said. “They should put you all down.”

  Harris looked at me, and I stared back. My eyes slowly dimmed.

  The Veteran bent down, putting his hands on his knees.

  “And now kid,” he said. “You and I are even.”

  -16-

  The first thought that impinged on my brain as I awakened an unknowable time later was that I shouldn’t be awakening at all. That was the entire point of perma-death—you didn’t come back.

  But I was alive—barely. I was naked, cold and coughing. I gasped and coughed up thick liquids, choking. I rolled away from the attendants, who pushed me back down. I flopped onto an unforgiving slab and struggled weakly.

  “He’s fibrillating. Defib—defib, dammit!”

  The bios grabbed me and held me down. At the last instant, they all pulled their hands away and they shocked me. A wrenching pain bit my chest, my face—every inch of my skin.

  “Again!”

  Another ice-cold touch was followed by a sharp jolt. I squirmed weakly, no longer able to cough. My mouth opened but no breath was drawn.

  “He’s going. We’re gonna to have to reroll.”

  “Don’t do it. We’re not allowed.”

  “He’s a bad grow.”