O’Connell laughed. “As soon as I learn how to control them, Lady, I will return to share my secrets with you.”
“I am to be thinking that you control this one very well, even if you don’t know it yet.” The queen nodded deeply, her oblong head bowing precipitously on her slender neck. “We will meet again, I am hoping. Safe passage to you, humans.” She turned and spoke a soft word to the wall of trees on their right. The trees parted as she stepped through.
“What was all that about, I wonder?”
Captain Hill looked down at Maggie, standing at his shoulder. “I’m not sure of all of it. What I am sure of,” he said as he took her arm, “is that you are not to get any wild ideas in your head.”
“Sir?”
He steered her back around the labyrinth of passages. “This entire encounter has brought out a stubborn streak in you. I won’t have you running rampant with it now.”
The commander stopped dead in her tracks and wrenched her arm free. “Beg your pardon, sir, but that is uncalled for. I did exactly what was required of me on this mission. You’ve already threatened to remove me from flight status because of that incident the other night. I refuse to be constantly bullied over every judgment call I make.”
Hill stared back at her impassively. “When you start showing any inkling of using judgment, Commander, I assure you that I will stop calling you to task for it.” His tone was dry, but O’Connell thought she heard a hint of humor in his words. By the quick glance he threw at her, she knew he had noted her tense stature. He stepped forward, leaving a few paces between them. He was close enough that he could lower his voice to a near whisper and still be heard, yet far enough away to maintain some semblance of decorum.
“Temper, temper, Commander. You very much want to hit me right now, don’t you? Yes, well, maybe now you understand the level of vexation I’ve felt the past few weeks.” Hill paused to read her expression. “Taking a swing at me would not be very wise. You’ll lose much more than the brief boxing match that would ensue.” He waited again, letting the silence cool her anger. “As for my bullying you, I offer my apologies. You have performed remarkably well.” His expression and posture turned inscrutable once more. “I need your support to get through this, O’Connell. I need your help to figure out what in the hell is going on. God knows how we’re going to get through it.” He stared at her for a moment longer then motioned with his hand. “Let’s get back to the ship.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” she whispered softly before matching his pace. They walked in silence until they neared the lander. “Sir?”
“Yes?”
“Did you just apologize?”
The captain’s eyes seemed to spark with hidden mirth, but his tone was dry. “Don’t be glib, O’Connell. I’ll reconsider strangling you.”
Chapter 29
“Captain, we have a problem.”
“Just one? How refreshing.” Captain Hill’s attempt at humor failed to elicit any response from Lieutenant Price or Commander O’Connell. “All right, sit down, both of you. Wait—which of you is on pilot’s watch? Don’t we have a jump in three hours?”
Knowing she was risking the captain’s wrath, and beyond caring, O’Connell raised her hand. “Turner has the con. I can be back up there in less than a minute. This couldn’t wait.”
“Get to it, then.”
“We have the details of the treaty between the Dremikians and Valtoza.”
“Eh? Khanaa said she couldn’t give them to us since we weren’t party to the treaty.”
“Not to humans, correct. But she could give them to a Dremikian.”
“Dwax asked?” The captain’s hushed tone indicated he understood the importance of Dwax’s action. By going behind the High Council’s collective backs, he risked censure or exile.
“He did.” Her green eyes pinned him. “He told her he had a blood oath with humans.” Both of her eyebrows rose, letting the captain know that she was precisely recalling their previous conversation about blood oaths.
Price, oblivious to the eye play between his superiors, said, “She also gave him a detailed history of his people. Like we suspected, the Valtoza created the Dremikian race as we now know it. They used DNA from a marsh dwelling creature that wasn’t quite sentient, but adept at life in the wetlands. Dremiks used to be covered by marshes, remember. The Valtoza wanted lorga and the ability to produce foodstuffs from the lush lowlands.”
O’Connell took up the narrative. “In what should come as no surprise to any student of evolutionary genetics—or pulp science fiction—the Dremikians evolved to the point where they could reproduce on their own. At some point, they fought each other for control of the planet.”
“That sounds familiar.”
“Doesn’t it, though? When one side—and it’s a bit hazy as to who the real culprit was—blasted that huge chunk out of Najif, the Kigvans stepped in. They negotiated, apparently with the threat of force, a peace treaty. A very draconian peace.”
“Neither side got the planet.”
“Pretty much. The earthquakes, sandstorms, and debris fall from Najif made the planet inhospitable for Dremikians and Valtoza alike. The Valtoza supposedly left the system entirely. The Dremikians retreated to a space station they’d built during the war—Rhyse station. That was over six hundred years ago, using Earth years.”
Hill shifted in his chair. “Ok.” He had the look of a man waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“The treaty has a clause to determine final resolution of the planet Dremiks. It’s either ingenious or—”
“Bloody sick,” Price interjected. “I’m sticking with sick, demented, twisted, and scary.”
“The lieutenant has strong feelings on this point, sir.”
“Any person or thing with a damn conscience would!”
“Spit it out, Commander!”
“Sorry, sir. The treaty states that any species that manages to successfully reproduce on the surface gains ownership of the whole planet. Specifically, that the being first born on Dremiks would inherit the planet and the right to dispose of it as he, she, or it, chose.”
Price and O’Connell waited for that information to sink in. They’d had thirty minutes to digest the implications of that one horrifying sentence.
“Sweet Lord, no.” Brett saw his officers nod solemnly at him. “No. Not even Ryan could be that devious. He’ll start a war!”
“The Dremikians cannot reproduce without ground water that has been infused with lorga. They had stores of the stuff on Rhyse station, but that’s running low, after six hundred years. They needed us to correct the orbit of Najif and restore the ecosystem of Dremiks to the point that the underground aquifers started refilling the marshes.”
Hill could fill in the next part on his own. “The Valtoza need lorga for weaponry and our arrival shut down their illicit mine. They also need a species, able to survive on Dremiks, to meld their RNA with and then reproduce. So why don’t they just grab one of us or some other sentient species and breed?” He made a face. “Repellant as that notion is. Who or what did they have working that surface mine?”
“Ah, I worked that bit out, sir,” Price said. “They breed clones, right? Every species they mix their RNA with, it makes clones. They’re full grown from the moment of, er, birth. I’m betting they’re still stumped on how to get a clone that is intelligent enough to sign the treaty with the Kigvans handing over the planet, but not wise enough to realize it’s a slave and out-right rebel. They’ve been burned on that score before. I’m betting right now they’re playing a waiting game, working with the Admiral to get the lorga they need and keep the Dremikians from winning the race to reproduce.”
“That seems to have been the original intent of this plot. I think your brother saw a golden opportunity, though.”
Damn right he did. If Marissa delivers that baby on the surface of Dremiks, humankind has snatched an entire planet right under the noses of two technologically superior races. Hell, three species, counting
the Kigvans.
Brett Hill shook his head. “We’re missing something, if the point of the sabotage was to prevent us reaching or landing on Dremiks, that is. Ryan needed us there in time for the birth.”
“I presume the Admiral caught wind of Marissa’s pregnancy and put the pieces together. Ryan might have been an original party to their plot, but I’m betting he’s working for himself now. There must be someone else, crew or colonist, working for the Admiral.”
“I’m losing track of how many people are out to prevent our mission.”
“Or outright kill us,” Price said.
O’Connell groaned. “That too.”
The captain surged from his seat, taking the other two by surprise. “You have a jump to prep for. As soon as we return to Dremiks, the first order of business is getting Marissa off that damn planet. I have no idea how we’re going to prevent the Valtoza from getting our DNA or whatever it is they negotiated with the Admiral. We’ll have to try to re-negotiate a treaty with the Kigvans and Dremikians.”
And I have to punch my damn brother in the face.
***
“Jump complete, sir.”
“You have the con, Commander. Maximum speed to Dremiks. I want us in orbit by daybreak over the dome.”
“Communications, sir?”
“Turn the buoy back on, but communications black-out remains in effect, ship-wide.”
“Aye, aye, sir.” O’Connell relaxed into her seat. Price was already up and completing his post-jump duties. She entered commands into the navigational system before notifying engineering that she needed full power on the engines.
“We just finished a jump, Commander.” Guttmann sounded peeved.
“Captain’s orders, Lieutenant.” She wanted to throw in a comment about being careful what one wished for, since Swede was always begging the captain to abandon the rule book and push their limits. Resisting that urge, she closed the channel.
Price came back to his chair after forty minutes. O’Connell looked at him and at her chronometer. He shrugged in response. “Nowhere else to be, ma’am.”
They sat in silence, each lost in thought. The only other person on the bridge was a junior engineering petty officer. Over two hours passed before O’Connell spoke again.
“I’m just finding it hard to believe that Dwax didn’t know anything.” O’Connell rubbed at her stiffening shoulder without realizing she was doing so.
Lieutenant Price noted the gesture, but refrained from commenting on it. “I don’t know why. If the initial pool of individuals who knew the details was small enough, and even half of them managed to keep it a secret, over the generations the true nature of the treaty would’ve been lost. If you don’t teach it and you don’t talk about it, it ceases to be.”
She twisted her features in a look of disbelief. “Thanks, Confucius. I still find it suspect.”
“That is because you are a cynic with a shriveled soul and no faith in humanity.”
“Pot, kettle. Unlike you, I have plenty of faith in humanity, it’s all of their alien co-conspirators I don’t trust.” She rolled her head around, trying to work out the kinks in her muscles. “What’s for dinner tonight?”
“Food, not that either of us will be eating. I have watch, and you don’t eat.”
“Shut up, Lieutenant.”
“Whatever you say, ma’am.”
***
Ryan Hill walked into Chancellor Trell’s quarters without knocking. He shook the blue dust of Dremiks off his coat. His nominal superior reclined on a couch while watching something on his tablet. He glared at Ryan before shutting down the video.
“We have a problem.”
“Oh?”
“The Hudson is back. She’ll be in orbit soon.”
Trell grabbed a pretzel from an open box. “I fail to see how that is my problem. The military, specifically your brother, is your responsibility. I’m sure you can handle this.” His piggy face squinted maliciously. “Or just send your buxom wife. She handles Captain Hill quite well.”
Ryan’s face flushed. “You fool. Wherever that ship has been for the past week, I can guarantee you they haven’t been without communications. They have to know of the Valtoza by now. They might even know about the treaty.”
“You assured me when I agreed to this scheme of yours that you could handle any interference from Brett Hill and Margaret O’Connell. Are you saying you can’t?”
“I’m saying that our timetable has accelerated and violent action might be necessary.”
Trell shifted his bulk. “Do what you need to, Ryan. Do what you want. You will anyway. I don’t need to be involved.” He waved a pudgy hand. “Leave me.”
***
“I’m not comfortable leaving Price up here in charge with both of us on the surface, Commander.” Captain Hill tossed the comment over his shoulder as he grabbed his go-bag from his sleeping quarters and returned to his office.
“I’m sorry sir, but I cannot agree. Price is a pompous pain in my ass sometimes—ok, most times.” Her concession was forced by the captain’s sardonically quirked eyebrow. “But, behind all that posturing, he’s a good officer. I cannot see him as a traitor willing to hand over his ship.”
“Never said he was.” He gestured with his hand for her to precede him out of his office.
“You’re going to need help persuading Cassie to move Marissa back up here, and someone needs to watch your back.” She stopped walking to glare at him. “Ah. You wouldn’t be trying to keep me up here in order to keep me safe, would you sir?”
“Perish the thought.” He rolled his eyes. “Stop nagging, Commander. You can come. I’m leaving in five minutes, though. You’d better hurry.”
***
For what seemed like the fifth time since she’d landed on Dremiks that morning, Maggie stepped between Ryan Hill and Dr. Ruger. The younger Hill brother looked ready to maim the diminutive doctor with his bare hands. The doctor looked just as ready to inflict pain.
Ryan Hill glared at the smaller woman over the commander’s shoulder. “You have no right to do this doctor. You aren’t under the protection of the ISA anymore. I’m the vice chancellor of this colony, and Marissa is my wife!”
Cassie backed further away and made a frustrated sound in the back of her throat. “It is impossible to reason with you when you are like this. Good night, Vice Chancellor.” She slapped her palm against the door mechanism and stalked out.
Much as she hated showing unease around Ryan, O’Connell decided to put a few steps of distance between them. She wasn’t about to be bullied into dropping the subject, though.
“You don’t have any right to threaten her, Chancellor. She’s always been the strongest advocate for your wife’s well being. She has every right to remove a patient from a dangerous situation.”
Ryan Hill did not respond as the commander expected. His eyes narrowed, giving him a heavy lidded, predatory, look. With a sinuous grace Maggie hadn’t known he possessed, he stalked her across the room until she was backed into a corner.
“Awfully sure of yourself, lately.” His tone lost the mocking laziness O’Connell always associated with the Vice Chancellor. “Ever since you returned from your little adventure you’ve seemed very secure in your opinions. What is it you think you know?”
Maggie shook her head, trying to dismiss the unease he generated. She raised her chin to give him a level stare. “I know a great deal more than I did when we first arrived. Care to share what you know?”
“Whatever you learned,” he leaned forward and placed his palm on the wall behind her right ear, “it seems to have cemented your loyalties. My brother surprises me.”
O’Connell felt like she’d been thrust into a complicated theatrical couplet, without benefit of the script. “What?” She swallowed and immediately regretted the action when she saw Hill take note of her discomfort. He leaned into his arm, closing the space between them.
“Brett’s never shown the slightest aptitude for the seduc
tion of, much less the management of, women. Perhaps, though, I have it backwards, and he’s the one who’s been broken to the saddle?” Ryan’s voice dropped in pitch and tone until it was a sultry whisper against her ear. “Maybe I needed to be more direct with you all this time. I had no idea you were so receptive.”
Brett Hill cleared his throat and watched as the two figures silhouetted by the lantern light turned to stare at him. He tried to appear calm and unfazed by the scene he’d walked in on. The captain sat down at the table and plucked a grape from the tray. He rolled it in his palm.
“While I can certainly appreciate the rigors of enforced celibacy, and the allure of her current dress, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to not ravage my executive officer. While it may indeed prove amusing, I think I would have to let her kill you afterwards. And that would, of course, present a problem. Too much paperwork, really.”
Ryan stepped away from Maggie, but did not appear in the least apologetic or ashamed. “Consider my offer, Commander.” His leering parting shot was transparently meant for his brother’s benefit, though he said nothing to the captain as he left. The captain and the commander could hear his boots crunching on the gravel around the fountain before fading into the night.
The elder Hill continued to roll the grape thoughtfully in his palm. Maggie gathered her wits and sat down at the table. She poured herself a glass of water. The captain noticed her shaking hands.
“What is wrong with how I’m dressed?” There was an inkling of hurt in her question.
“Hmm?” Brett smiled, but the full effect was lost because his face was half hidden in the shadows. “Not a damn thing, which is what I said.” He paused and waited for her to react to his steady gaze. “Why didn’t you punch him, Maggie?”
His soft tone and use of her first name diffused some of her unease. She shrugged. “I have my reasons.” She hoped that would be the end of his inquiry. Unfortunately, the captain continued to sit in the semi-darkness and stare at her. He seemed to be willing to wait all night for a suitable answer. Realizing that, O’Connell moved to push her chair away from the table. Captain Hill’s booted foot shot outward and blocked her chair leg from moving. He still did not speak.
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