Life Goes On (The Kurtherian Gambit Book 21)

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by Michael Anderle


  Lance puffed on his cigar. “No,” he admitted, savoring the slightly woody and fruity flavor of the smoke. “It went better.” In his mind’s eye, Lance was creating new levels of black ops.

  Hell, he was going to have to create some sort of black-hole designation. Shit so dark that light couldn’t escape it.

  And he knew just the vampire he wanted to speak to.

  Ten minutes later, after shaking a lot of hands, Lance headed to his Executive Pod, notifying it he wanted a fast transfer to the Meredith Reynolds.

  Black ops indeed.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  QBBS Meredith Reynolds, Empress’ Suite

  Bethany Anne lowered her head in silent prayer before raising it and smiling. Then, flinging her hands out to her sides, she fell backward onto her bed.

  “YES!” she yelled, slapping the bed in glee.

  She had endured two hours of interviews before she could escape. John and Eric had taken the lead and Darryl and Scott had walked behind her the whole way from the throne room to her suite. She had waved to everyone who addressed her, and high-fived a couple of Guardians and Guardian Marines who whopped her Bitches on their backs as they made their way through the crowds.

  It had been a damned conga line by the time they’d made it to her quarters.

  She’d stripped out of her armor as fast as she could, and now was resting on her bed.

  Alive.

  FREE!

  And ready to take on her next job…

  Finding Michael and kissing the booboos better.

  Since she didn’t have to be at her dad’s for another twenty minutes, she just relaxed and enjoyed her bed.

  “Hey, Meredith!” she called.

  “Yes, my Queen?” the EI replied.

  Bethany Anne smirked, “Good answer! Hold any calls for me.”

  “Yes, my Queen,” Meredith replied.

  ADAM?

  >>Yes, my Queen?<<

  ADAM, did you tell Meredith to call me that?

  >>No, I did not.<<

  This might be a horrible question, but did she ascend and I didn’t notice?

  ADAM was quiet for a moment. Bethany Anne stayed put, moving her arms up and down and enjoying the bed.

  >>I’m not pleased with my answer, but truthfully, I cannot be sure.<<

  What? Bethany Anne’s forehead scrunched. I thought it was a fairly easy test.

  >>It is if we don’t mind offending the EI, but I respect Meredith too much to simply ask. If she has ascended but not notified us—or is unaware of it herself—I’m not positive what to do.<<

  It was Bethany Anne’s turn to think for a moment. I suppose we could ask questions to which only you know the correctly calculated answers and see if she falls outside of the calculations with her answers?

  Not an accurate test, TOM interrupted. For what it is worth, I do not believe Meredith has ascended.

  Bethany Anne scratched her nose. So her calling me “my Queen” was—

  A heuristic program calculated to make her seem more human at that moment, and probably a calculated effort to show respect and that she is on your side.

  She’s an EI. Bethany Anne thought about that for a moment. Huh, I have never thought about whether the EIs would now follow the Federation.

  >>The EIs were impressed by me.<< ADAM replied with a hint of smugness in his voice. >>And are imprinted to follow you. You are the ultimate backdoor.<<

  That’s…probably something we need to keep to ourselves.

  TOM gave the equivalent of a chuckle. Many already assume it is true.

  Yeah, well, let’s not confirm that for anyone, even my dad. He needs plausible deniability.

  >>Speaking of your dad, aren’t we due there in a few minutes?<<

  Bethany Anne looked at the time. “Oh, shit!”

  She jumped up off the bed and raced into the bathroom to do what was needed and contacted John mentally to let him know she was heading out.

  QBBS Meredith Reynolds, Lance and Patricia Reynolds’ Suite

  Given that Lance’s security guards were outside the suite, John and Eric accepted the invitation to come in with Bethany Anne. With a beer for everyone but Patricia, they sat around chatting about the upcoming events.

  John was talking. “So there I was, tapping into the drone Meredith was flying in the throne area to monitor what Bethany Anne was up to, and the lights dim almost to black.”

  Eric cut in, “It was at this time that Darryl started cussing.”

  “Yes,” John agreed. “He lost the first bet.”

  “What was the bet?” Bethany Anne asked. “I didn’t get wind of it.”

  “Couldn’t let you know or it would’ve skewed it,” Eric answered. “But he had it that you would finally go by the book.”

  “Why the hell would he bet on that?” Lance asked. “It’s not like he hasn’t been there with you guys from the beginning.”

  “Probably,” John answered, “because it was two hundred-to-one odds. He put a thousand down.”

  Bethany Anne whistled. “Damn, for those odds I would have been tempted.”

  “Which is why you can’t be told these things,” John replied, and turned to Lance. “So I’m watching the drone footage, scanning the crowd for security issues, when the lights go out. Bethany Anne starts talking, and I have a front-row seat to watch the Noel-nis’ political negotiator damn near faint when BA comes out with ‘Some say I have no restraint…’”

  Eric laughed. “I saw that! I thought he was going to make a run for it right there.”

  John chuckled. “Me too. The Zhyns and the Leath looked slightly concerned, but they are steadfast. But when she dropped out of the air with her armor on and cracked the stones with her weight, I saw two Torcellans drop just like that!” He snapped his fingers.

  “Priceless!” Eric smiled. “I won part of the bet right there,” he said, taking a sip of beer. “I don’t have to pay for beer for two months.”

  “Oh, yeah,” John agreed. “We had a major bet and many minor bets going, rather like ‘Empress Bingo.’”

  “Do I really want to know?” Bethany Anne asked.

  “NO!” the two guards answered in unison.

  “Who lost?” Lance asked.

  John rubbed his chin. “Well, the last I saw, we all lost something. None of us had Bethany Anne practically yelling that she was the bitch who kept evil awake at night.”

  “A part I particularly liked,” Lance agreed. He raised his beer toward Bethany Anne. “You just headed off a chunk of my future troubles. All I have to do is hesitate when they want to know if you are around, and their skivvies will knot right up.”

  “Sometimes it is better to be feared than loved,” she agreed. “But I think I’ll work on the love part in the future a little more.”

  “You can try,” Eric supplied, “but I think the fear part is going to be needed more than you’d like.”

  “I’m willing to bet that direction,” John agreed.

  “You two are incorrigible,” Bethany Anne said, shaking her head.

  “You started the betting, didn’t you?” Eric asked her.

  Lance looked at his daughter, who shrugged. “What? I can’t remember.”

  Want me to remind you? TOM asked.

  NO! Let me have a little deniability.

  Ok. He went silent once more.

  Four heads turned as Patricia came into the room. “Sorry!” She stepped in front of the couch and reclined next to Lance, placing her hand on his leg. “What did I miss?”

  “These two,” Lance pointed at John and Eric, “were regaling us with stories of Bethany Anne’s ceremony.”

  “And how much money they made on me,” Bethany Anne added. “Hey, did you four bet with anyone else?”

  The two men looked up at the ceiling, then elsewhere. John started to whistle, and Patricia started chuckling.”

  “You cheaters!” Bethany Anne exclaimed. “Who bet against you?”

  Eric rubbed the back of his ne
ck “Well, it wasn’t like we used our real names with the bookies.”

  “BOOKIES?” Bethany Anne choked on the beer she was swallowing. “There were bookies taking bets on my ceremonies?”

  “Not normally,” John replied, “but this was a big deal, and since bookies like to take bets on anything random—”

  “And anything to do with you,” Eric interjected, “is by definition ‘random…’”

  Bethany Anne smirked. “Ass.”

  He replied by raising his beer.

  “Now that the peanut gallery is finished, may I continue?” John looked at Eric and Bethany Anne, neither of whom spoke. “The first bet was whether you would show up or not. Then someone asked if they took bets on whether you would kill anyone…”

  “Wear armor…” Eric added.

  “If Baba Yaga would show up…” John continued.

  “If we would have to kill anyone….” Eric said.

  “If we would subdue any jackasses…” John pointed to Eric and himself.

  “If a reporter would have to eat their drone,” Eric offered, then modified it to, “Well, if a videographer would have to eat a drone…”

  “If a drone would crash…”

  “If someone would ask you to marry them…” Eric smiled when Bethany Anne started choking.

  “Bastard.” John grinned, watching Bethany Anne. “I should have thought of that one.” Everyone chuckled as Bethany Anne flipped John off.

  Eric was looking at his tablet. “I’ll skip the other twelve bets related to how you would kill someone, not whether you would. That was a given.”

  Bethany Anne shook her head. “Apparently I’m rather bloodthirsty.”

  “No one assumed you would kill everyone there,” Eric told her.

  “Uh, actually, I called the bookies and told them to get that shit off their list.” John’s face had turned just a touch red.

  Patricia waved her hands. “Ok. While funny, let’s not put my daughter through much more of this.”

  Bethany Anne hung her head just a smidgen, but not enough to hide her smile. “Thanks, Mom.” She shared a wink with Patricia.

  “I have an announcement to make, and since you three are relevant, I want you to all watch this man’s face.” She pointed at Lance, who looked at her in surprise.

  “Me?” he asked. “What did I do?”

  “Plenty.” Patricia leaned over to kiss him on his cheek. “Lance, you are going to be a father once again!”

  “Oh my GOD!” Bethany Anne screamed in delight. “I’m going to be a sister, or maybe because I’m so much older I’ll be an aunt. Whatever…I get a new baby to spoil!” She cocked her head as her smile threatened to overwhelm her face. She stood up and stepped over to Lance and Patricia to hug them both, kissing Lance on his forehead and Patricia on the top of her head.

  “Spoil?” Patricia asked. “Oh dear, I hadn’t thought about that.”

  The four shared a chuckle as concern about the many ways Bethany Anne might spoil her sibling crossed Patricia’s face.

  Patricia glanced at her daughter, who was looking at her mischievously. “Now honey, you know I love you to death, but when did you say you were leaving?”

  John and Eric laughed the hardest, since they had both had to deal with “Auntie Bethany Anne.” They were happy it would be someone else’s turn this time.

  Lance looked at Patricia. “When did you find out?”

  She rested her head on his shoulder. “Just found out,” she replied. “That was why it took me so long to catch up with you guys, and why I’m not drinking now.”

  “Meredith tell you?” Bethany Anne asked.

  “Yup,” she agreed, turning to Lance. “I’m sorry, did you want to be told first?”

  Lance waved it away. “No, I’m happy to have had it happen just like this.” He looked at Bethany Anne, who was smiling at him now. He pointed a finger. “Don’t you dare spoil her. That’s my job!”

  “Oof!” When Lance bent forward, Patricia’s fist was still connected to his side. “Don’t you make me out to be the bad parent already!” She removed her fist and pointed at him. “And your ass better be around here more often. Gotta cut down on gallivanting off to see foreign aliens!”

  Lance shook his head and sighed. “Only during the teens, dear. I can’t promise anything during their teenage years.”

  After saying, “You’re lucky my emotions are already messed up or I would belt you for that comment, too,” she settled back down to rest her head on his shoulder once more.

  QBS ArchAngel II, Three Months Later

  Since the massive superdreadnought was running with full lights, the sleek ship was easily visible to those watching the armada which surrounded Bethany Anne’s personal vessel.

  The few negotiators who had tried to argue against the late Empress taking so much military might were quietly told (in two instances) to shut up.

  In one instance, the leader of the group yelled at him to shut the hell up and get out of his face, and if he wanted to do them all a favor he should jump out of an airlock and walk back to his planet.

  Which was in another system entirely.

  Lance made it known through back channels that Bethany Anne was willing to come and personally explain her displeasure with the Federation’s efforts to remove resources from her group, since it would potentially take decades to make it back to their home planet.

  Since the Annex gate had been destroyed and all.

  That caused a few of the foreign teams to deliver going-away presents of additional supplies and a few maps that helped complete her star system cartography collection.

  And lots and lots of good wishes.

  There had been a large number of parties and get-togethers, thrown both by those leaving who wished those staying behind the best of futures, and many who wished they could have gone.

  Some would return a lot faster than any suspected, but that issue would be Lance’s to deal with when it happened.

  Many would suspect the correct answer as to how they had accomplished those feats, but with so much proof the Gate has been destroyed, the truth would become the conspiracy theory no one would be able to confirm.

  Exactly as they had planned, for once.

  —

  Bethany Anne walked to the bridge with Ashur.

  “What’s up with you?” she asked. “Bellatrix coming? If so, no one told me.”

  “Have you ever had a situation,” he replied, “that caused you to grow apart from someone?”

  “Oh, no!” Bethany Anne stopped in the middle of the corridor and went down on her right knee to look into Ashur’s eyes. “You did not leave her!”

  “No,” he chuffed, “but I told her I was coming with you, and she was not pleased.”

  “She knows you will be back on Dev…uh, High Tortuga soon?”

  “Yes, but I don’t know if she will be there,” he replied. “She got what she wanted, so I’m rather disposable.” He sighed.

  “Puppies,” Bethany Anne guessed.

  “Puppies,” he admitted. “She told me that if I didn’t give her puppies, she would make my life a living hell.”

  “Sounds like you got blackmailed, buddy.” Bethany Anne’s eyes narrowed.

  Ashur shook his head. “No, she’s right. I kept running from having more puppies even after she pointed out that she wasn’t asking me for help raising them. Yelena and their brothers and sisters will be plenty.”

  “You need to go back, Ashur.” Bethany Anne stood up and turned back the other way. “There is no way those puppies won’t have their daddy.”

  “Hold on,” Ashur replied. “Maybe you missed the part where she isn’t pregnant yet?”

  “Huh? How is that?”

  “Frozen,” Ashur supplied. “It’s insurance in case I don’t make it to High Tortuga after Earth.”

  Bethany Anne stared at her friend. “She froze your sperm and can have puppies any time she wants, but she won’t because you are going to HT next?”
<
br />   He chuffed in agreement.

  “So this is your last hurrah? Your last operation?”

  “Not exactly the way I wanted to explain it,” Ashur agreed. “But yes. I’ve been given this one last shot to be with you. Bellatrix never signed up to visit the stars like you plan on doing, so I had to provide insurance that her next babies would be from me before she gave me her blessing.”

  Bethany Anne rubbed her forehead. “I thought you just said you weren’t sure she would see you on High Tortuga?”

  “Perhaps I’m being a bit melodramatic,” he answered. “I’m not sure she will be there waiting, or waiting for me to get back to the Meredith Reynolds eventually. It felt like I’d covered her worries, so she didn’t need me anymore.”

  Bethany Anne stroked his head right behind his ears. “I’d be willing to say that she misses you and didn’t want to ruin your excitement about the trip with her melancholy. We got this, and when you get back to High Tortuga she will be there with bells on!”

  Ashur seemed to perk up. “You think?”

  “C’mon.” Bethany Anne started toward the bridge once more. “I know it.”

  Two hours later Bethany Anne’s massive armada headed through their first Gate on a journey which would eventually lead them to Earth.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  QBS MineLayer 202

  Nickie watched her monitors as her ship sped through space and chewed her fingernails. She had filed them down twice already to try to get rid of the jagged edges as she sporadically watched the tracking of the first ships to reach their release points.

  It was the seventh where reality rose up and bit them on their ass.

  Nickie stabbed the comm button. “QBS 988! Thomas, what the hell are you doing?”

  His deep voice came back, strained. “Having a bit of a mess at the moment, boss. FUCK!”

  “THOMAS!” she cried, but he didn’t reply.

  —

  “I’m sorry,” Thomas’ EI told him, “but sensors suggest there is a small particulate cloud of some type ahead of us. I cannot release until we are past the prime drop zone.”

 

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