by Scott Rhine
“You can’t survive another defrost cycle.”
Kesh replied, “What about Magi suspended animation? With Roz’s parents gone, we have two slots open in the food-storage unit.”
Max sighed. “With your mass and the length of your tail, you’d take up both of them. No other adults would be able to come on the mission.”
“I’ll work twice as hard.”
“If someone else’s unit fails, we won’t have a spare,” Max warned.
“When has any Magi equipment failed us?”
“Are you going to perform nurse duties for Reuben?”
“No.”
“Then we’ll need to sell this to the others.”
Kesh nodded. “Give me as much time as you can to study the Goat loan papers before you wake Reuben.”
“He’s already up, but he’s researching the documents in Xerxes’s study. We’re having a meeting to discuss them after dinner.”
“Ten hours to find loopholes in a galactic treaty? No problem,” Kesh oozed sarcasm.
He spent half his time staring at their flight path through the Tansdahl binary star system. The ship had arrived near the lighter star, B, which orbited Tansdahl A in an egg-shaped path. The yolk region at the bottom of the egg was the habitable zone for the larger, more stable sun. Over the millennia, A’s superior pull had captured every planet and asteroid in the system, sometimes tearing them apart with the force of gravity. A single gas giant had survived the aeons-long tug of war between stars. Compared to this vast scale, his own problems amounted to nothing.
On the plus side, the destruction had left the ice and ore from several fragments exposed for ready removal. Smelting could be done on the rocky moons. Furthermore, the ammonia gas siphoned from the planet needed little refinement to provide fuel. The final Goat outpost on the route to Magi space made an ideal combination shipyard and refueling stop.
Even in an adverse environment like this, life had taken root and flourished. His own impending mortality had awakened a sense of wonder about the universe.
****
The crew meeting began with Reuben in the hot seat. He wore his normal ship jumpsuit, but around his neck, he sported the ridiculous goggles. The crew gathered in the cafeteria and peppered him questions. Kesh kept half his attention focused on the treaty displayed on his personal computer screen.
“We spent a week on your detour,” said Echo, dripping disapproval. “What has it gained us? Where’s Glory Point?”
Reuben grimaced. “We’re not sure yet. With Roz’s assistance, we’ve narrowed the approach to a short list of possible access routes and definite timetable.”
All eyes moved to Roz. “The mention of solar flares and the charts in the study should enable us to reverse-engineer the route. Most of the fleet started here in the Tansdahl system. We can narrow the search by tracking entries in the navigation logs.”
“Or in this case, holes in the log,” Daisy said.
“How many ships are we talking?” Max asked.
Reuben shrugged. “Every vessel from the scrapyards, a few Phib warships, and every ship stolen by pirates before the war. At least twelve. As many as twenty. From the freezer retrofit orders, I’d say six hundred crew plus four thousand ground troops.”
The room fell silent.
Max coughed. “How do we stop an armada that big?”
“If they’re asleep, our job’s easy,” Daisy replied. “Plant a few shaped charges, and no more invasion.”
Kesh’s neck frills flared involuntarily. “As a cold-blood, I can’t condone the murder of a sleeper. Not even Phibs stooped to this tactic. Such assassination gives no chance for the strong to prevail.”
“Your Saurian code of honor outweighs the entire Banker species?” Reuben asked.
“The rule of Union law is most important,” Kesh said. “Otherwise, you’re worse than the people we’re facing.”
Echo’s hologram bowed its head. “Agreed. Preservation of sentient life is the highest priority. If they’re still asleep, we can board and use our pilots to turn their ships around. If they’re conscious, we must attempt to persuade them.”
Max’s eyes widened at the impracticality. “How are the invaders planning to get past the planetary defenses?”
Reuben replied, “Xerxes co-opted the Human colony ship The Mayflower.”
Roz’s mouth dropped open. “That’s a hollowed-out asteroid, capable of carrying five thousand colonists.”
“Stocked to the rafters with radioactives when the pirates captured it,” Max whispered. “How many bombs could they make?”
“One big enough to take out the entire moon.” Reuben brought up a cross-sectional view of the craft. “If the Phibs bring the asteroid in quickly, Banker beam weapons won’t be able to penetrate the thick rock in time. The moon fragments will rain down more destruction on the planet and other satellites in orbit. A plan by Earth command for an invasion of the Phib homeworld notes the weaker ships can hide in Mayflower’s shadow on the approach, with the warships on the outer edge of the V formation.”
“Earth was planning that a hundred years before the war?” Echo asked, aghast.
Max shrugged. “We make contingency plans for everything.”
“If you went to war with the Magi?”
Daisy answered, “Our psi operatives would sacrifice themselves on Magi planets to corrupt your world memories. Then we’d hide on planets we didn’t tell you about until your people died out. We’d survive, but you wouldn’t.”
The hologram vanished.
“I think you offended her,” Roz said primly.
“Don’t ask if you don’t want to know,” Daisy said.
Roz turned to the thin blonde. “If your sister hadn’t been my best friend, I’d punch your lights out.”
“Not very enlightened.” Daisy would have said more, but Reuben squeezed her knee to cut her off. The pair didn’t smell like a mated pair, though she was clearly currying favor with the Goat. The seduction could be out of mammal loneliness or to gain information from the gullible Black Ram.
“Why are you so pissed?” asked Max.
“My people gave you billions of credits, and you shut us out.”
The doctor stared her down. “Yeah? Just because you have money doesn’t mean you get to sit at the adults’ table. That right has to be earned.” His face blossomed into a slow smile. “I think you’d appreciate some field-training exercises. Kesh has to work out his heart more often, and we all need practice in a combat environment. Menelaus has offered to sharpen our reflexes and teach us about traditional Saurian tactics.”
“Herding and ambush?” Kesh said. “Humans aren’t suited. Anyone who cries Uncle can tap out, admitting to defeat.”
Max didn’t seem convinced. “Once per leg, we could attempt the exercise. It might liven up the dead time we spend traveling in normal space.”
“Ambushes can happen at any waking time.” Daisy grinned, glancing over at Roz. “The winner stages the next round?”
Roz amended, “No permanent injuries allowed, and no involving the Magi.”
“That includes you,” Max said. Both women seemed disappointed. “Roz, your talent might not distinguish between reality and drill. Meanwhile, she couldn’t hit you at range. Something would always intervene to save you.”
“Anyone can be hit given sufficient preparation,” Daisy claimed.
“The Bankers had a bounty on her mother,” Max said. “The one cop who got close to her was the one who married her. You can only catch a probability mechanic if they want to be caught. Besides, she runs a chance of mutations or brain cancer with each major use of her talent.” When one pushed probabilities, they pushed back. “If someone did manage to touch her, it’d cause diplomatic problems with the Magi.”
“I agree to your terms,” Daisy said.
She nudged Reuben, who said, “Yeah. Game on. What’s up with Kesh’s medical issues?”
“Freezer burn. I have to move him into the two spare st
asis slots.”
Reuben’s grin faded. Glancing at Daisy, he rebounded. “Cool. I’ll go to a fertility clinic or something at this port. Our chief strategist’s life is more important.”
Max seemed impressed by the maturity level. “To earn his increased shelf space, he’s been studying the loan contract and Union financial law.”
Standing, Kesh directed his comments toward the goggles. “Xerxes told us to stall until the invasion begins. The biggest factor in our favor was the choice of Turtle as the language of the treaty.”
“How does that help?” asked Reuben.
“They don’t do anything in less than seven-year increments,” replied Max. “Since Turtles will be the arbiters in any dispute, as long as we follow the letter of the law, we can stretch this out till the next Convocation.”
Kesh said, “Exactly. Reuben, while the rest of your people are trying to avoid the fiscal responsibility, you’ll lead the effort to ‘cooperate’ with the Bankers.”
“My people would lynch me!”
“If they could reach you. Before we leave the scrapyard, order a valuation of all Goat properties, factories, mineral rights, and such from three independent sources.”
Reuben scratched his head. “I could order the office of the comptroller to send me a list of all planetary debts and assets. I don’t see how we’re stalling.”
“Twelve months from the deadline, you’ll discover with shock that there’s not enough money to pay the bills.”
“Duh!”
Kesh leaned forward to deliver the punch line. “That’s when you cut the salaries of all government workers by half, yours included.”
Incredulous, Reuben complained, “Work would grind to a halt. For half the pay, they’d work four times slower. You don’t understand Goat psychology. The accounting will never finish.”
Daisy snickered.
“Ahh.” Reuben kissed her hand. “That’s why I keep you around—to remind me I’m a fool, even though I’m famous.”
11. Ambush Practice
When the individuals were advanced enough, Max switched to teaching group tactics. “We’ll fight in teams, so you can shout for an assist. Your partner will use a polearm to stay out of range and force the enemy to commit. Meanwhile, you take advantage of the blind spot behind the target to shoot him. When his blood is up, his active vision narrows to a ninety-degree field.”
“That doesn’t seem sporting,” Menelaus objected.
“A thousand cold-bloods for every one of us. Even I can barely hold off two skilled Saurians. Preserve the lives of your team. Any situation where we don’t outnumber or outgun the enemy means we retreat and hit them from another angle.”
Menelaus asked, “What if one of them gets me cornered without a sword or pistol?”
“Pushing an adult Saurian out of the way is almost impossible without a vehicle. Your best bet is a knee smash on one side while dodging to the other.”
“I’d block with my tail in that case,” Kesh replied.
“Ah, when they commit to defense, you can use your pole to vault clear of his reach. Then he’s pinned.”
“That I’ll have to see to believe, old man,” Reuben goaded.
“I’m with the Goat,” said Kesh. “Even with a broken arm and no sword, I can finish cornered prey.”
“Fine. A proof then. I promise to steer clear of your right elbow.” Max led them to a corner in the wide-open cargo bay. He called to the ship’s AI. “Minder, gravity to 60 percent.” He spun the staff in a showy fashion, like a baton twirler commencing a parade.
The team was taking bets on how many nerve points Max would strike before the Saurian dealt him a simulated backbreaking blow. Roz looked a little worried her husband didn’t have his trademark dart gun. “With his bad back, he’ll be lucky to score twice.”
Menelaus had faced Max before and upped the bid to three.
Daisy said, “He used to spar with Yellow Slash. He could go as high as four.”
Reuben had the high bid with seven.
Kesh started three meters from his prey and circled.
“Paradoxically, if he gets this close, you want to enrage him,” Max noted. “Your best chance is to outthink him.”
Once his prey was cornered, Kesh flared his neck frills and snapped to prevent escape. The staff spun faster than he could see. Pain shot through the sensitive area below his left frill. Fury filled him, and he reached with both claws.
Max planted the staff and ran up the wall, landing behind. He kicked Kesh in the tail ganglia, bouncing the accountant off the hull. He could work an enraged Saurian like a matador guiding a bull.
Kesh shook off the blood fury and rubbed his snout.
The match proceeded, with Max demonstrating six of the vulnerable pain centers, etching each into his opponent’s memory. Kesh knew exactly where and when the final blow would be. Anticipating, Kesh performed a flip of his own, landing atop his tormentor. Winded, Max tapped out.
“The last blow is the one that counts,” Kesh crowed.
“Me next!” Menelaus shouted. “He was too slow.”
Max handed over the weapon. “Remember, practice avoiding the enemy. He caught me because I telegraphed.”
Menelaus stood in the corner and spun the staff. Then he raised the shock level to nine.
“You sure you want to go there?” Max asked.
“It’s what I’ll be using in combat. I need to know how long the battery lasts and how the enemy will react.”
Before the Bat finished his sentence, Kesh roared and stamped forward.
Forgetting everything he’d been taught, Menelaus bellowed a reply and stabbed at Kesh’s solar plexus like a Norse berserker. Expecting this move, Kesh knocked the staff aside with his cast and swiped a claw an inch shy of his exposed throat.
Kesh declared, “You’re out.”
“You missed,” replied the Bat.
Even though his cast had insulated him from the bulk of the damage, his right arm tingled, numb and unstable. “Have it your way.”
The battle began anew. To his credit, Menelaus had learned by observing. His staff was a blur.
Kesh blocked several strikes by meeting one of the Bat’s fists with his own. This avoided another nasty shock. The longer the combat wore on, the more Menelaus anticipated his moves, but the mammal was also growing tired. Switching to the offensive, Kesh feigned a misstep on his injured limb. As he tipped over, he brought his tail up hard and bashed Menelaus in the nose with a crunch.
Everyone winced. Roz covered her face.
Max ran forward to set the break and ice the damage.
“I don’t feel a think,” Menelaus said bravely.
“You will,” Kesh said, massaging both his leg and tail. “I’m going to soak in my sand pit. Anyone is welcome to join me.” Sand time was supposed to be social, even among enemies. Now he always seemed to be alone. He draped an arm over gentle Roz, and she walked beside him to provide support. As he limped to the next biozone, every inch of his body ached. I’m too old for this.
“I’d say Kesh won the bet for being such a good sport,” Max said.
“Bring me a couple grasshoppers, and we’ll call it even.”
Reuben saluted and jogged off toward his yacht’s bar to fix cocktails. Daisy tagged along to make sure he didn’t sample the wares alone.
After Roz helped bury Kesh up to his chest in heated sand, she said, “See you at dinner.”
“You’re not staying?”
“Sorry. I have to supervise food preparation tonight. The Magi won’t eat out of pots or off utensils meat has touched.”
Kesh said, “Better you dealing with their delicate sensibilities than me.”
From the door, Reuben snickered. “Your solution would be eating the meat live, with no utensils at all.” He delivered the green drink to the Saurian on a silver tray. “Your beverage, sir.”
Kesh leaned forward to accept the offer. He sipped the cocktail. “Ah. My favorite painkiller.”
The Bat entered soon after, wearing a nose splint. He carried the deactivated staff in one hand and a plate of black insects. “I couldn’t find grasshoppers. Will crickets do?”
His fellow crewmembers glanced at each other, trying not to laugh.
Kesh replied, “If you’ll sit with me and try the grasshopper drink.” He held out the alcohol.
Menelaus tipped the whole glass back in one swallow. “Not much protein, but the flavor is nice.”
“That’s the spirit. This is what we call burying the hatchet. Forming a team bond. Eh.” Kesh looked into the empty glass. “Could I have another one, Reuben?”
“Sure,” the Goat said, gazing at Daisy.
“When you return, could you show me how to take the staff apart and reassemble it blindfolded?” the Bat asked, reclining on the beach chair near Kesh’s elbow.
Reuben winked and pointed his finger like a gun. “I remember those drills. The hardest part is testing it after the rebuild. I once reconstructed it three times before figuring out the battery was dead.”
The second the others were out of the biozone, Menelaus said, “Finally. I’ve had something I wanted to share with you for a while, but I don’t want to offend you after your hospitality.”
“Go ahead. I have thick hide.”
Suddenly, the staff struck him in the jaw, preventing him from shouting for help. His first thought was, He must have been the one to plant the spy device! The weight of the sand kept him from dodging the next blow to the back of the skull. His ears were ringing as he slumped to the sand.
Menelaus stared at him critically. “Don’t take it personally. I hate all Saurians. My family starved to death because Blue Claw miners wanted to make more profit. You’re the third and by far the most skilled Saurian I’ve faced. I respect you for making me a better warrior, but I had to see what my weapon would do to your kind at full power.”
Kesh couldn’t even blink. Dread filled him as the vicious mammal reached for his neck.
Pressing the button on Kesh’s badge, Menelaus squeaked, “Doctor, please help. I’m not sure he’s breathing.” Then he crouched beside the round entry hatch with his staff poised to strike.
Max ran into the desert room soon after, heedless of the danger. Without a mental signature to announce him, the doctor’s opponent had to rely on the whoosh of the iris opening. Because of this, Menelaus swung too soon, tripping him. Max raised his hands. “You got me. I surrender. I need to examine Kesh.”