by Danny Loomis
Enforcer Aosi watched it slither down the middle of the barracks, head turning side to side. With so many heat sources to choose from, the Gantu was probably somewhat undecided as to which victim it would dine on tonight. Whichever it chose wouldn’t feel a thing, and within minutes would stop breathing. It would look like a heart attack unless an autopsy was done.
The lizard turned and scuttled towards one particular cot. Aosi eased back into the latrine and down the tunnel, the hatch closing seamlessly behind. This would make the sixth such foray in two nights. He jogged down the tunnel, heading for the next barracks. Four more Gantus to deliver tonight.
* * *
William stepped over the coaming of the entry hatch and watched the six immaculately clad Storm Troopers crash to attention. Beyond, Commodore Givens and Flag Captain Chapel saluted in unison. Returning their salutes, he stepped forward and shook their hands.
“Welcome aboard, Admiral,” Givens said.
“Thank you, Ernest.” He turned to Captain Chapel, hand outthrust. “It’s good to see you again, Captain. Your ship looks to be in prime condition.”
“It is, Admiral. You will find my crew is also prime. Primed for a fight.”
The Admiral smiled. “Your crew will have their wish fulfilled in short order, Captain. I’m sure the Confederation has received our invitation and will soon be on their way to join us.”
“This way, Sir,” the Commodore said. “We thought lunch followed by a tour of the ship would be in order.”
“Yes, by all means lunch.” A grim smile touched his mouth. “We shall see about the tour.”
Throughout the meal William said very little, giving monosyllable answers and little more. As it progressed, he could see the Commodore’s unease growing.
Finally Givens put his fork down and looked him in the eye. “Sir, I realize I may have interpreted your orders a bit differently from what you intended. I simply felt…”
“No need to apologize, Ernest. Perhaps a bit of an explanation would be in order, however.” He raised a finger to his aide, who quietly left the room.
Givens kept nervously moving his silverware. “Well, Sir, I felt as the senior officer on station it was necessary to take advantage of the tactical situation. There was little or no resistance, and I felt it would enhance our mission if I established a planethead as soon as possible.”
“We’d discussed this before you left with your task force, Commodore. I needed to keep Alliance personnel off the planet until we had all arrived. There are certain—rules—we have to follow in situations like this. I’m afraid you’ve broken several of them.”
“Er, what do you mean, Sir?”
“Commodore, I specifically wrote in my orders no one was to touch the planet surface. Other than the space station, no one was to enter the planet’s air space. I have reviewed the records, and find you broke those orders almost immediately. Why?”
Givens sat up straighter, a scowl forming. “I was the supreme authority on station. It was my call to…”
“Exactly, Commodore,” interrupted the Admiral. “It was your responsibility. For that I’ll have you before an Admiral’s mast. You’re relieved of command. I would recommend you not say anything further until you’ve had a chance to speak to someone from Legal.” He gestured, and his aide led two storm troopers into the room. “Arrest the Commodore. Keep him in solitary confinement until further notice.” A stunned Commodore Givens was led away, leaving a heavy silence behind.
“Captain, do you have anything to add?”
Captain Chapel pushed a data cube across the table. “I think the Admiral will want to listen to a recorded account of what happened. Plus I was forced to relieve my signals officer, Lieutenant Commander Beck. He was somewhat forceful in his disagreeing with the Commodore about breaking your orders, and I had to take him down a peg. He’s a top-notch man, and extremely loyal. It would be criminal to have to punish him. Could you use him on your staff, Sir?”
William smiled. “I’ll gladly take him on, Captain. Loyalty is one trait I tend to reward.”
Major Vogel, standing quietly at the back of the room, felt his skin tighten at the Admiral’s words. Here was a real leader, one worth following. For months he’d seen the personal magnetism of the man bring instant order out of a chaotic meeting. His integrity and loyalty to his own men was unmatched. In a sudden epiphany of feeling, he sensed the final separation of his loyalty to Victor. Now it would be the Admiral whom he would follow. To death, if necessary. The realization made him stand a little taller, as if a weight had just lifted. Silently he followed the guards out of the room.
PLANET ALAMO, FORT WILLIAM HENRY (DAY -5):
“Still!” Ian froze in mid-step at the whispered command that echoed inside his helmet. Around him the rest of the Long Range Scout platoon stood like statues. They’d marched almost the entire distance of their 25 kilometer march, the last training before the Bifrost mission. The day before was spent on the firing range, with his fire team scoring highest in the platoon.
Ian’s bio implant had been brought up to full capacity over the past two weeks, with the medicos testing everything but his crap. The last time the implant had been at full power it almost burnt out his brain. This time everyone seemed pleased at the result. Ian didn’t feel too bad about it himself, seeing he had scored an unheard-of perfect shoot. Two hundred rounds fired, all on target. Only Pointy had come close, with 190 hits. Impressive for someone without an implant. Sweat dripped off the end of his nose, reminding him just how uncomfortable of a position the freeze order caught him.
Another five minutes passed before the signal came: “Go.” Damn that Franny. Ever since Sergeant First Class Smith had made Platoon Sergeant, he was able to find new and different ways to keep his “rat pack” in shape.
They resumed their march. The entire platoon looked at Franny pacing alongside them, waiting for his next order. With a nasty smile he complied. “Double time, march.” Another five klicks to go, with full field packs and weapons. What a way to earn a buck. The entire platoon jogged down the dirt road in total silence, a trait of the Scouts. Never signal your presence, going in or coming out. Made for a longer life if your enemies didn’t know you were around.
By the time they passed through the side gate of the fort, everyone was sweating freely but not breathing heavily. Doing ten kilometer runs on a daily basis tended to make sure a person stayed in top shape. They came close to the barracks, their trot slowing to a walk, then a halt. They faced towards Franny and waited.
The diminutive Platoon Sergeant gave a real smile this time. “Pretty good week of training, folks. Especially on the firing range. Staff Sergeant Weiss, third squad gets liberty six hours early today. The rest of you clean up the barracks before your two days liberty starts.”
Bracing to attention, he did an about-face and sauntered off. Everyone began to drift towards the barracks.
“Okay troops,” Brita said. “Put everything away. Team leaders, once everything’s ready, let me know. When I think you’ve got yourselves squared away I’ll consider springing you for the next two days. And if you’re ready for inspection in less than twenty minutes I’ll buy the first drink at the Pelican Pub, 1900 hours.” Everyone sprinted into the barracks at that. A drink at their favorite hangout wasn’t that unusual, but having Valkyrie offer to buy was too good an opportunity to pass up. Fifteen minutes later Ian and Sergeant “Chucky” Doyle guided Brita through the barracks as she gave a detailed inspection of everyone’s area of responsibility.
“Bunks look good. Gear stored out of sight at least. J.C., what’s that in your hand?”
With a guilty start, Romero flinched to parade rest, both hands to the small of his back and feet spread shoulder width apart. “What’s what, Staff?”
“Hold out your hands,” she ordered. He displayed two now-empty hands. “That’s better. Be sure and leave those cards you stuffed in your back pocket in the barracks. I won’t bail you out next time.” There were
smothered chuckles at her reminder of J.C.’s ability to get in trouble while on liberty. Last month he’d been caught palming cards during a poker game. For the past three weeks everyone had to suffer through his incessant practice with the cards, so he wouldn’t end up with two black eyes this time around.
Brita gave one last look around, then shook her head in regret. “You clowns never could keep a barracks clean. But this one time I’ll let you skate. You can collect that free drink at 2100 hours. See you there.” With a whoop everyone disappeared from the barracks before she’d time to draw another breath.
* * *
Ian’s fire team disembarked from the shuttle bus, headed for the nearest—and cheapest—bar in town, the Blue Mouse. Since it was only mid afternoon, the place was almost empty. Ian led them in and waved his credit chit at the bartender.
“First one’s on me, guys. I haven’t been able to stand a round for all of you since I made Staff.”
“Only one round?” Pointy asked. “That’s pretty cheap of you, man. We’re worth at least two after we shot the lights out of those targets yesterday.”
“Speak for yourself,” Two Eagles said. “I only got one sixty. Didn’t do us any good at all.”
“That’s all right, Two Eagles. We’ll stay a thousand meters back and shoot ’em while you creep up and stab ’em,” J.C. said, blowing the head of foam off his beer. The week before during a tactical exercise Two Eagles had snuck into the opposing force’s tactical operations center and painted a bulls-eye on the back of the company commander’s hat. While he was wearing it. It wasn’t noticed until that evening when the Regiment’s commander dropped by for a briefing.
Pointy handed an envelope to Ian. “By the way, Staff, we—the team, that is—invested in a little present for you, now that you’ve got your bio link hooked up again.”
“Thanks, I think,” Ian said. “I’m not sure it’s safe to open.”
“Go ahead, man. Valkyrie gave us the idea,” Pointy said. Slowly Ian pried the envelope open, and took out a stylishly embossed card.
“Madam Godiva’s Emporium. Good for ten minutes in the V.R. lounge.” He shook his head. “What the hell’s a V.R. lounge?”
“It’s the only place in town you can get virtual reality sex,” Blade said. “The guys who’re wired in with a bio implant go there to get their cookies tossed all the time. They say it’s the best.”
“Well… Thanks, guys. But I kinda like the real thing.”
“C’mon, man,” Pointy said, waving for another round. “Give it a try. It cost us a mint, so you should at least make the effort.”
“Okay, okay. It’s only good for ten minutes. What could happen in ten minutes?”
A short while later, Ian looked up at the bright pink facade of Godiva’s Emporium. The graphically complete holos in the window of naked women gyrating around left no doubt in anyone’s mind you were entering a whorehouse. A popular one at that. A steady stream of men, and women, entered and left the establishment. He shrugged off his case of nerves and pushed through the ornately carved double doors.
Inside was a surprise. A quiet lobby tastefully decorated in subdued colors seemed to absorb those entering. Each person was met by a receptionist.
A slender brunette materialized next to Ian. “May I help you?” Wordlessly Ian handed the card to her. “Ah. Welcome, sir. This way, if you please.” She led him to an elevator discreetly set in a corner.
Two floors down he arrived at an expensively furnished room. She gestured him to sit on a divan which would’ve cost him a year’s pay.
“Please wait here, sir. Enid will be with you shortly.” With that she was gone.
Ian barely had time to glance around before a stately redhead approached, wearing a deep red sheath dress. How does she walk in that, Ian wondered. She took his hands and lifted him to his feet. “I understand this is your first time with the Virtual Reality experience.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Ian felt his face begin to heat up.
“No need to worry. I’ll make sure you understand the process before beginning.”
“Are you part of the—ah—experience, ma’am?”
“No, no. I’m merely the technician. This way, please.”
Technician? What the hell, Ian thought as he followed her.
She led him into a small room. “You can remove all your clothes in this room. The booth is through that door behind you. Just follow all instructions, and you’ll find the true heights of ecstasy available through virtual reality.” With that she left, and firmly closed the door behind her.
“Lot of help she was,” grumped Ian. Cautious as always, he checked the booth out before disrobing. Just a small room with what looked like a glass-topped coffin. He sighed in resignation and began disrobing. Just as well get it over with.
He entered the booth and noticed the flat screen on the wall, blinking Touch Me. He did so. Instructions scrolled across the screen telling him to lie down in the container, and hook up the “plumbing,” as well as the small skull cap. When he adjusted the cap, he felt a tingling begin in his head and spread downward. Lying down triggered the lid of the container, which closed over him.
“Welcome, Ian Shannon,” said the sexiest voice he’d ever heard from any woman. “Please close your eyes and relax. This virtual reality experience will begin now.”
He found himself on a luxurious bed piled high with pillows and silken sheets. He sat up and two brunettes entered the bedroom, both wearing see-through nighties.
“Ian,” breathed the one on the right, “what would you like to do tonight? Just tell us. We’re yours.” For a timeless interval he rode a wave of pleasure until washed up on the shores of exhaustion.
When he could next think clearly, he found himself flat on his back between two purring redheads. A rising crescendo of stimulation overtook him as they began their ministrations…
Hours later, after the second visit by the pair of blondes, he rolled over and covered his face with a pillow. He’d never been so tired nor so sexually drained in his entire life.
“I’m afraid your time has expired, Ian Shannon,” the disembodied sexy voice said. “Thank you for visiting. Please come again soon.”
He opened his eyes and pulled off the skull cap. The gonadal plumbing withdrew, and the lid of what he would now and forever after call his Sex Crib lifted. Ian staggered into the next room and managed to clothe himself. He was tying his shoes when there was a knock at the door.
“Mister Shannon, would you like some help?” asked the technician.
He tried to look normal as he left the room. She handed him a glass of frothy looking liquid.
“Drink up, sir. It’s a restorative. Should make you good as new.” She led him towards the elevator and kept looking at him, a quizzical expression on her face. Ian began feeling like he’d forgotten something—were all zippers zipped? Buttons fastened?
“I’m sorry, sir. I’ve just never had anyone last a full ten minutes before.”
Ian was stunned. “You mean I was only in that thing ten minutes? It felt like an entire week-end!”
“Subjectively, you’re right. That’s why it’s so expensive. Most people just sign up for thirty seconds.” She was still eyeing him strangely when the elevator doors closed and whisked him to the lobby.
Back on the street, Ian noted the time. Only fifteen-thirty. He began walking to the bus stop. He’d catch a shuttle bus back to the barracks, get in three or four hours on the simulator. That’d still leave him time to catch the rest of the squad at the Mink Palace by 2100 hours. Or better yet, maybe he’d just sleep until then. God, he was tired!
* * *
Ian awoke fourteen hours later, clear-headed but stiff and sore. He rolled out of his bunk and padded to the showers. He stood under the blast of water, hot as he could stand it, and shook his head. He’d missed last night’s party. Damn. He’d never have another chance to get a free drink out of Brita. With a start he remembered the two blondes in the V.R. booth. The
y’d both looked remarkably similar to her. Jeez, what a glutton for punishment. Time to move on to other thoughts.
The rest of his morning was spent at the post library, where he uploaded everything on Edo in the files. They might only spend a few days on the planet, but he still wanted to know everything he could. The sparseness of information was disappointing.
Surprisingly enough, Edo had been colonized by accident. One of the first efforts humanity made at colonization was shortly before the A.I. wars when five asteroids had been turned into generation ships. Each was suitable for sending thousands of volunteers to the stars, along with every conceivable aid to help in colonizing efforts. The artificial intelligences installed in each had been built from scratch, tailor-made for each separate ship.
Fifty years after the start of construction, they were launched. The fusion torches ensured there would be hundreds of years of thrust if necessary. For all intents and purposes, they had been lost in the deepness of space. Ten years later the A.I. wars nearly ended life for humanity, billions dying in the eventually successful struggle to destroy the artificial intelligences who’d decided it was time to dominate and control Earth. It would be hundreds of years before humans re-entered space and established colonies on dozens of planets. Three hundred years ago, the Confederation and Alliance had split from the economic and political control of Earth. During this time, two planets were found that had been colonized by two of the original five ships. Dakota had been one of the planets, Edo the other. No sign had been found of the others.
Ian came up for air long enough to make a note to ask Johnny Two Eagles what he knew of his planet’s history. Should make for an interesting yarn. Especially how they’d fared with their artificial intelligence. One thing all of mankind agreed on—no more A.I.’s allowed. This had slowed down research and development, making it a hard uphill struggle. Especially when it came to space flight. It had been an accident that a team of scientists headed by Doctors Emile Bollard and Departu Singh had discovered the way to create a small bubble of warped space that would allow whatever was inside it to travel in another universe, and pop out at a predetermined time and place.