Black Swan Planet

by James Peters

  “That sounded like more than two. Shame.”

  “Drag him to the brig,” Morrow said to a pair of guards. “Full restraints chained to the wall. Let the record show that as of this moment, Magnus Aldis is stripped of his officer’s rank and privileges.”

  He then turned away. “Mr. Tremblan, I want you to access their ship’s logs and provide me a detailed report of everywhere this ship has been since it left Imperial space.”

  “Understood,” Perry said.

  Denton said, “You, Major uh…”

  “Howlowitz, Sir.”

  “You have pilot’s wings, right?”

  “Yes, sir!”

  “Take the controls and ease this ship into clear space. The key word is ease.”

  “Sir. Should we detach from the shuttle first?”

  “Follow orders, Major. We’ll deal with the shuttle later.”

  Denton turned to the doctor. “Doctor. We have a patient in need of medical assistance in the brig.”

  “Sorry, sir. I have an autopsy to perform, equipment to sterilize, and I really need to do an inventory of supplies. It’s going to take hours. Our patient is just going to have to wait. Besides, are you certain he’d want an incompetent doctor working on him? I might just inject him with potassium chloride instead of an analgesic. They do tend to look quite the same to the incompetent eye.”

  “Let him stew until your autopsy is done, then tape him up. No need to waste high-end treatment on a prisoner.”

  He turned to the woman. “Ms. Briggam. I’m assuming you’ll want to interview our guests to begin with. I’m sure I don’t have to remind you of our orders to bring them in alive.”

  “Smiles. Escort our new friends to the mess hall. If they try anything, feel free to break their legs. One leg each, that is.”

  ***

  A lot of thoughts go through your head when a comrade is killed right before your eyes and you are dragged by a gorilla outfitted in a custom-tailored gray suit, under the threat of broken limbs if you struggle, knowing you are doomed to decapitation by the Emperor as soon as you are returned to Imperial Space. But oddly enough, one thought raced through my mind. Wow, this gorilla smells terrific. A hint of florals, lavender perhaps, with an undertone of vanilla and a subtle, clean touch of spearmint. I had been strangely at peace as my head bounced off the threshold leading to the mess hall.

  The woman followed us, pointing a finger-pistol at me. Finger-pistols are rare in the Empire as they were so easily concealed, inaccurate over a few dozen meters, and had a tendency to go off, killing their owner if they forgot they wore it and scratched an itch or worse yet, picked their nose. At this range, however, it could be just as deadly as any other rail weapon. A flash of laser light emitted from the weapon as it crossed my eyes, blinding me. I winced, trying to cover my eyes with my hands. The gorilla tightened his grip on me, lifted me from the ground and shoving me into a hard chair, knocking the wind from my lungs.

  “Raka Varoule. So glad to finally meet you.” The woman reached her hand toward me, the laser light from the finger-pistol moving erratically. “Oops. Don’t want to accidentally kill you as we’re being introduced. Natastia Briggam, Inquisitor.” She nodded toward me.

  “Pleased to meet you.”

  “Don’t get me started. My friend here is Mr. Smiles. He does whatever I say, without hesitation. Trust me, he’s much more dangerous than this little gun. Now, your companions. Maven Blackheart. Occupation unknown, according to official records.” Her gaze turned toward Maven. “What is it that you do, Ms. Blackheart?”

  Maven sounded brave. “I do lots of things.”

  “Oh, goody, because so do I. One of the things I do is to get people to answer questions they don’t want to answer. I happen to be very good at it too. Isn’t that right, Mr. Morrow?”

  As if on cue, Morrow stepped into the mess hall. “Ms. Briggam is not exaggerating, to that I can attest. Before long, Ms. Blackheart, you’ll be begging to tell your story, in its entirety to anyone who will listen. I’ll wager that you’ll break within four standard days. But let’s start with this guy, the guest of the hour, Raka Varoule! Mr. Varoule, what do you have to say for yourself on this fine day?”

  “Hello?”

  “Hello? Because of you, I lost my commission, my freedom...my mind! I spent years in a tiny, filthy cell waiting to get a signal back from that shuttle you stole, the one I should have shot out of space, but no! You jumped at the last instant, ruining my life, destroying everything that was ‘Denton Morrow’. I was tortured, manipulated, and I’ve been on this ship that smells of shit for months tracking you down, and you say ‘Hello’? Somehow I expected more.”

  “Sorry.”

  Denton smiled, reached out and shook my hand hard. “Oh, it’s fine, nevermind, we’re good. I’m so glad we’re finally together, Raka. We actually have a lot of things in common.”

  “We do?”

  “Of course. We’re both a long way from home, traveling with primates, and I believe we’re both victims of our circumstances. Let me ask you, Raka, what did you expect to find when you opened that door to the Emperor’s ballroom?”

  “I don’t know really. I was thinking along the lines of finest wines, expensive foods, delegates from all over the galaxy trying to outdo each other. But I never expected that.”

  Denton shook his head as if to say ‘what a shame’. “Saw, and broadcasted across the galaxy. Do you know what you did, to the Empire?”

  “What I did to the Empire? I didn’t do anything. I exposed the Emperor, I was knocked unconscious, and I escaped. I’ve never harmed the Empire.”

  “Let’s say things changed a bit because of you, Raka. The Emperor appointed an independent team of the finest investigators on the Imperial payroll to determine exactly what happened leading up to that fateful day. They investigation determined that the Emperor, without his knowledge or consent, had been drugged over several years. His actions were not of his control as he was being manipulated by a terrorist group. With this information, he pushed through the Patriotic Love for the Empire and Freedom of Monitoring Act. Now everything, everywhere, is fully recorded, to be reviewed by the Emperor’s finest.”

  “A terrorist group drugged him and forced him to attend an orgy? Does that make any sense at all to you?” I said.

  “This group had the goal of embarrassing the Emperor, hoping to create a coup to steal power and control, pushing through their radical agenda. There were documents found, tracing the control back to a specific group. You probably weren’t aware of this, Raka, but do you know how you got the assignment to do the birthday story on the Emperor?”

  “Assignment? I begged, borrowed and bribed my way into that.”

  “So you would believe. Do you remember when you first heard of the Emperor’s party?”

  “It’s been too long. I do not recall.”

  “There was a lady on the tram. Blonde hair, blue dress; low cut, no undergarments.”

  “Yes, I remember her,” I said, never forgetting a great set of personality.

  “Do you remember what she said?”

  “I don’t remember her talking.”

  “Of course not. She told you that she recognized you from that last exposé you did. Something about clerics stealing from the till?”

  “Monks. They were monks.”

  “She told you the location, time and a contact with a ticket to the party. You then met that contact, a skinny guy with a plaid shirt and brown pants. You paid him handsomely for a ticket.”

  “Ten thousand credits. I had to borrow three thousand of that.”

  “Yeah, well he was a setup. He was to give you that ticket, regardless. Whatever he made from it was a bonus for him. Then he sent you to his buddy, the one that got you on the shuttle. The big guy who smelled of ham and had that rash on his back? Who just happened to be carrying a shuttle filled with empty crates to the exact sector that the Emperor’s flagship was passing through? You remember, right?”

&
nbsp; “I had to rub that nasty ointment on his back during the trip. Five times. It took weeks to get that smell off my hands.”

  Denton Morrow cringed. “Some people have unusual taste in stimulation. I had never heard of a back-rubbing perversion, but I guess it takes all types. You were played, Mr. Varoule, like a fiddle by a master fiddler. You’ve been master-fiddled.”

  “But by who? You mentioned a terrorist group, who could plan all this, make it all happen?” I said.

  “You have been out of the loop for a while. Have you ever heard of the Tonton Macoute?”

  “Never.”

  “It’s from a little-used dialect. The name means ‘Uncle Gunnysack’. It’s some kind of a bogeyman that steals children that misbehave. He shows up with a gunnysack over his head and drags the kids off in a spare gunnysack, presumably kept in a gunnysack pocket. We’ve only had second-hand stories of dealing with them, and one theme carries through; a gunnysack mask. The interesting thing, Raka, is that it appears that one of your companions has ties to this group. You see, we intercepted a paired quantum transmission.”

  “You intercepted a paired quantum transmission? That’s impossible.”

  “Not truly impossible. Most quantum pairs are monogamous, but a few are polyamorous. The pairs that are slipped to the black-market? Yeah, they are into three-ways.”

  Denton grinned. “It seems a certain ‘Agent M’ sent out a call for assistance, not too long ago. I have a transcript here. We are highly confident this message was received by the Tonton Macoute.”

  I turned to Maven, my gaze turned viscous. “Is this true?”

  “I don’t know anything about a Tonton Macoute,” Maven said. “Nothing.”

  Denton Morrow cleared his throat to interrupt. “Maven Blackheart. I’ve spent many a flatulent evening reading your dossier. You used to be known as Marvin Blackheart.”

  “Your name used to be Marvin? You never told me that!” I said, truly surprised.

  “That wasn’t important and you never asked.”

  “You’ve got quite a history, Ms., or should I say Mr. Blackheart?”

  “Just call me Maven.”

  “Hmm. Agent M, perchance? Seems you found a way to beat the purge and escape, joining up with an underground group set on harming the Empire. Do you deny this?”

  “I refuse to answer a question like that.”

  “Give it time and you’ll answer questions we never asked. You got close to the Emperor, didn’t you? We have video of you going back several months. When Raka entered, you sprang into action immediately, knocking the valve off the tank with a hammer you mysteriously produced from out of the site of the cameras. I’ve watched the video several times. It seems like you had a plan, Maven.”

  “Is this true?” I said, “Was this all a setup by you and the Tonton Macoute? Were you the masterfiddler?”

  “I’m no masterfiddler!” Maven said.

  “Why do I find that hard to believe?” I shook my head. “How could you?”

  “It wasn’t me, Raka. I’m telling you the truth.”

  “And I’m supposed to believe you this time, despite all the other lies? No, fool me once, shame on you, but I won’t be fooled again. Where did the hammer come from, Maven?”

  “It was in my toolkit. The Emperor was into whips, chains; the whole sadomasochism scene. On occasion, it was hammer time.”

  “And he never noticed your other tool?” I said. “Or was he into that too?”

  Maven’s face twisted. “That’s none of your business. Yes, I was in an underground group, and I was working to get access to the Emperor’s codes, accounts, and personal emperor. We weren’t interested in overtaking the empire. It was purely greed. Well, not purely. I had a score to settle, but I was intent on settling it with a huge bank account.”

  Denton Morrow sighed, then grabbed Maven by the collar. “You expect me to believe that? I know you sent that message. What kind of assistance are you expecting? Tell me!”

  “A new hammer. One that doesn’t reek of ass,” Maven said, and Denton backhanded her, knocking her chair over. She spat. “That was weak. You’re going to have to do better next time.”

  “I’ll show you better!” Denton pulled back his arm, preparing to strike, but a voice cut in from over the intercom.

  “Lieutenant Morrow?”

  “What!?” Morrow answered.

  “This is Major Howlowitz. You, uh, you had me take the controls.”

  “Yes, and you’re doing a fine job. What is it, Major Howlowitz!?”

  “We’re being hailed, sir.”

  “Being hailed? By who?”

  “The Tonton Macoute, sir.”

  Chapter 37

  Dissolution of Bonds

  ESS Dissolute Ultralog-Complete™ Log, recorded in accordance with the Patriotic Love for the Empire and Freedom of Monitoring Act. Released under Imperial Order #C53TZ933

  “Salutations, honorable crew of the Dissolute. We implore you to surrender without undesirable incident. We have established complete weapons lock on your vessel. Should you attempt to escape, your destruction is indubitable. If you require confirmation, your craft’s lock indicators are certainly reading five by five. There is no absconding. Alas, I would be remorse if I did not introduce myself. I am known as Pythagoras; not my given name but one I’ve acquired through deed and duty. I am the de facto leader of the Tonton Macoute. You have one of our agents in your midst: Agent M. I assure you that Agent M is armed and dangerous, an expert in melee combat as well as a fine marksman, has the benefit of being a master strategist and has a design and the methods to escape. Agent M is of the utmost tactical importance to us and we are unwilling to negotiate any resolution to this conflict without collection of this resource. You will release our agent immediately upon completion of the docking procedure, or the results will be exceptionally regrettable for you. I have faith that this dispatch is of crystalline transparency. Release our agent or forfeit your lives. Docking procedure initiating.”

  Denton said, “Get those two to the brig!”, in the general direction of Natastia, pointing toward Raka and Marco as he ran toward the bridge. “You! Maven, you’re coming with me.”

  Natastia led the prisoners to the cell and unlocked the door with a geneti-key, shoving them inside. “Rot in here with Magnus. You’ll be fast friends.”

  Magnus Aldis coughed and wiped blood from his mouth. “Fucking doctor better get here soon or I’ll kill him slow-like and enjoy it. If he hurries, I’ll make it fast and mostly painless for him.”

  Marco approached Aldis, studying the length of the chains and the man’s reach, calculation an appropriately safe distance, and immediately squatted down, pooped in his monkey-hand and flung the results into the face of Magnus. Magnus screamed and struggled against his chains, the action caused great pain to his broken ribs. He fought, screamed, fought again, screamed, over and over until he crumbled into a blathering mess.

  Natastia joined Denton on the bridge, where he had Maven securely tied to a bastion. She waved him over, outside of Maven’s earshot. “What have you got, Morrow?”

  “Their ship appears to be a converted freighter. No apparent shielding but it has been outfitted with offensive weapons, and they have lock on us. They have harpooned our starboard port, and are in the process of cutting through the locks. I cannot tell how many are in their boarding party but based on the size of their ship and its normal crew, I’m assuming they outnumber us. I’ve ordered all available soldiers to the port to greet our guests.”

  “What’s your plan?” Natastia said.

  “My plan?” Denton said. “They are too close to target with the ship’s weapons. They’ll have that door open in a matter of minutes. We have two options: Give them what they want or fight them hand to hand. This mission has already gone to hell, so I’m thinking give them what they want.”

  “You’re thinking of handing over Maven to them? The Emperor’s orders were to bring her in alive.”

  “Yes, and
he wanted Nicholai alive as well. See how that worked out? Things happen on a mission that are out of our control. I said I’m thinking of handing her over, but not letting her get away.”

  Natastia shook her head. “What’s your thoughts?”

  “They have offensive power but don’t see any shielding. I say we play along, give them their Agent M, and then when they leave, blow them out of space. Maybe we can retrieve her body from the wreckage and the emperor can behead her corpse.”

  “Seems like a reasonable solution,” Natastia said, nodding.

  Lt. Morrow opened up a ship-to-ship transmission. “Pythagoras. This is Lt. Denton Morrow of the ESS Dissolute. We would prefer to handle this situation peacefully.”

  “I applaud your decision as it shows wisdom and compassion for the troops under your command. I too prefer to avoid casualties in this transaction. When the portal opens, we will refrain from storming your vessel. Dispatch our agent and we shall detach without commotion.”

  “It’s your lucky day,” Denton said as he untied Maven. “Your friends caught us with our pants down, and that saved your life, at least for now. I’m certain the Empire will retaliate against your gang of ruffians, but that will be another day. For now, you’ve won.”

  “But, I…” Maven said.

  “Don’t play with me. When that door opens, you will walk through it and instruct Pythagoras to seal the door immediately and detach his ship. End of discussion.”

  Maven nodded and approached the door. It opened with an exchange of air that left her sniffing the air quizzically and shouts of disgust from the attached ship. She raised her hands and exited the Dissolute, followed by a moment of silence, then shouting.

  “What is this; some manner of jest?!” Pythagoras said. “Storm their spacecraft! Find Agent M, post haste!”

  A mechanically synthesized voice asked, “Sir?”

  “You have a query, Cisco?” Pythagoras said.

  “I was wondering, well…”

  “Vocalize your request.”

  “Can we take off the gunnysacks? I really can’t see out of this thing, and if we’re going to get into a big, messy battle, perhaps being able to see and breath would be helpful.”