Might Makes Right

by Michael Anderle

Bobcat rubbed his chin. “Where did you get this?”

  “Random bullshit from our computers in the monkey’s paw offices.”

  “R2,” Marcus requested, “let me speak with Reynolds, please.”

  “Space station or ship?”

  “Oh, yeah,” William muttered. “Whoever thought allowing Reynolds to keep his name when he was chosen to also helm the next superdreadnought was an—”

  “It was Bethany Anne,” Bobcat told him.

  “Goddamned genius,” William finished. “Obviously thinking ahead… If an attack was launched, the two EI’s could work closely together to protect the battlestation and the superdreadnought. It was a fucking epiphany.”

  “Nice save,” Tina told him.

  “Why, thank you,” William answered as he launched some design programs they had used to build the original Eat-Shit-and-Die Beam. “What caused me to think it might happen is the—’

  A deep, gruff voice spoke from the speakers. “This is Reynolds.”

  “Hey, dawg,” William said. “Take a look at what we got here, would you?”

  Tina looked around, wondering where Reynolds’ cameras were. Or was he just reading William’s computer and hologram directly? She thought about it and realized it would logically be both.

  “The plans for the ESD Beam,” Reynolds told them. “This is section QQV2272, used for changing the Etheric energy into—”

  Suddenly there was silence.

  “What happened?” Tina asked.

  “Give him a second,” Bobcat answered. “Reynolds is tracking something down. He doesn’t like to pontificate on what-ifs. If he knows we’ve seen something, he would rather go down a few thousand rabbit holes while we have our virtual thumbs up our asses than provide an incomplete answer.”

  “I think,” Reynolds came back on, “there is potential here, William. My first pass at the calculations suggests the change is feasible.”

  “How many?” Tina asked, looking at Marcus. Reynolds answered.

  “Two million, six hundred and seventy-two thousand, four hundred and twelve permutations,” Reynolds said.

  “And that was?” Tina asked, annoyed.

  “The number of different ways I could see to accomplish miniaturization of the components in the ESD beam that William has highlighted. Further, it includes all the downstream modifications we have installed since actually firing the beam.”

  Tina grabbed a chair from Bobcat’s table and pulled it closer to him and William. “I feel like I’m behind.”

  “As well you should be!” Marcus answered running a hand through his hair. “The ESD Beam was one of our most secret projects. We never got a chance to fire it until the fickle finger of fate forced Bethany Anne’s hand during the Yollin insurgency. We’ve been number crunching on those—” He stopped and looked at William. “Oh, shit. That’s some of the data we used to seed the monkey’s paw trap.”

  William grinned and snapped his fingers, then pointed to Marcus. “I tell Bobcat all the time that you occasionally hold up your end of the job.”

  Marcus flipped William off while directing his attention to Tina. “That’s how this stroke of genius occurred. Now we need to see if we can actually miniaturize the most powerful beam we have ever produced.”

  There was a loud pop, and the three of them turned to see Bobcat holding a bottle, quickly trying to suck off the foam that was spewing out the top. A moment later he got it under control and turned to the rest of them, smiling as he lifted the bottle in their direction with a question on his face.

  “Another round of research?” he asked.

  QBBS Meredith Reynolds, Empress Bethany Anne’s Meeting Room

  “Are you shitting me?” Bethany Anne looked at Cheryl Lynn, who shook her head. “Those bastards want to talk peace?” she confirmed as she sat down at the meeting table and rubbed Ashur’s head. Cheryl Lynn took the chair next to her.

  This time Cheryl Lynn nodded in agreement. Her face was studiously blank, giving away nothing as Bethany Anne stared, her eyes narrowing as she absorbed what Cheryl Lynn had just related to her.

  Bethany Anne stopped petting Ashur as she considered the ramifications. A moment later her attention was drawn back to Ashur as he bumped her hand a couple of times. “You know, Ashur,” Bethany Anne told him, “you really do focus on what’s most important to yourself.”

  “Are you sure he isn’t trying to keep you from going ballistic over this request?” Cheryl Lynn asked.

  Ashur chuffed at her, and Cheryl Lynn replied. “No, I’m not trying to give away any secrets. However, you generally try to get Bethany Anne to pet you whenever she’s upset.

  Ashur chuffed again.

  Bethany Anne chuckled. “Well, yeah. I suppose for you it is always a good time to get a head scratch, you old goat.” She reached down and scratched Ashur’s ribs. “Ok, lie down while I figure out how the Leath are trying to screw us.”

  Ashur chuffed, and when Bethany Anne sat back in the chair, walked toward the door and laid down next to it.

  “We were just in the Noel-ni system two weeks ago.” Bethany Anne blew out a breath and looked at Cheryl Lynn. “You aren’t saying anything to me here.”

  “That’s because I don’t know if you want my professional take, or need me to listen to you bitch for a while.”

  Bethany Anne glared at her. “I went to a bunch of planets to prove I didn’t eat babies, and look where that got me.”

  “It proved you didn’t eat babies,” Cheryl Lynn pointed out. “We got some good PR from your support of the Yollin teenager.”

  “And I was accused of practically eating the Noel-ni kid,” Bethany Anne shot back. “He wasn’t thick enough to have made a good sandwich.”

  Cheryl Lynn stared at Bethany Anne, then put a hand across her mouth.

  “That’s not going to work.” Bethany Anne looked at her. “I see the laughter in your eyes!”

  Cheryl Lynn mumbled between her fingers, “That’s because it’s so wrong it’s funny!” She shook her head, hand still clamped over her mouth. “But so, so wrong!”

  Ashur chuffed, and Bethany Anne looked at him. “I know, right? I could have fricasseed—”

  “Oh my God, stop!” Cheryl Lynn took her hand off her mouth, but instead of a smile there was a horrified gape. “Do you know what would happen if you ever joked like that around a microphone?”

  “Of course.” Bethany Anne smiled and leaned forward. “I’m ego-maniacal, not stupid.”

  Cheryl Lynn blinked a couple times. “Oh.”

  For a few seconds neither of the women spoke, but finally Cheryl Lynn broke the silence. “Your feelings are hurt.”

  “Hell yes, they’re hurt!” Bethany Anne replied, a flash of red in her eyes. “Do you have any idea what it feels like to have billions of aliens wonder if you’re an evil lunatic?” Bethany Anne leaned back in her chair. “I can’t go to a planet without them shrinking from me or wanting to test me or trying to trip me up.”

  She pushed her hair out of her eyes. “I’m in a goddamned gilded cage surrounded by weapons of mass destruction, and half the fucking galaxy worries I may come after their world to spread catastrophe, carnage, and chaos.”

  Cheryl Lynn shook her head. “Nice alliteration.”

  “Thank you, I rather liked the whole catastrophe, carnage and chaos thing.” Bethany Anne glanced at her friend. “However nice it was, it’s still true,” She finished, daring Cheryl Lynn to argue the point.

  Cheryl Lynn’s eyes narrowed as she thought about it. “Boss, what’s the worst that could happen?”

  “Those fuckers actually want peace,” Bethany Anne answered without hesitation.

  “Wait.” Cheryl Lynn shook her head as if to dislodge something in her ear. “What? Say that again.”

  “Huh?” Bethany Anne frowned. “Don’t you get it? I’ll never agree to peace with the Leath. They are ruled by a Kurtherian group we are going to take down. Period fucking dot.” She shook her head slowly. “No way, no ho
w, never are we going to have peace.”

  “Uh,” Cheryl Lynn frowned, “ok. So what do you want to do about this peace accord request?”

  “Oh, that’s easy,” Bethany Anne smiled. “We are going to attend so I can kick some ass.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Noel-ni Planet Sertjal, ArchAngel II in Orbit, Six Months Later

  Bethany Anne was in her suite on ArchAngel II when John knocked on the door. She called to him to come in.

  John cracked the door and stuck his head in. “You wanted me?”

  “Yes,” Bethany Anne replied. “What are you guys taking into the meeting?”

  “Well,” John stepped into her room carrying a box, leaving the door to the outer suite open, “they have banned armor and major weapons.”

  “Uh huh,” Bethany Anne replied, “and if you say this hotel doesn’t have a shit-ton of weapons all over it, you're lying.”

  “Oh, no doubt,” John agreed. “The thing is,” he held up his hand, fingers closed before he put up one finger. “They prohibit all forms of chemical propellant.” He put up a second finger. “All forms of laser or beam energy,” he put up a third finger, “and various and sundry slug-throwing devices.” He put up a fourth finger. “Any form of body armor you wear like clothes and,” he put up the last finger, “gloves.”

  “So, the Leath are big motherfuckers, but all any of us can have is a blade or some other personal weapon that can’t deliver death at a distance.”

  “Well, what they don’t know—” John started and Bethany Anne smiled.

  “Won’t hurt us,” she finished. “However, tell me the good news—what’s Jean got for us?”

  “You remember the fight back on Earth where we were attacked at the hotel?” he asked, and handed her the box he had brought in with him.

  She took it.

  “Yeah.” Bethany Anne smiled, her eyes losing focus for just a moment. “Damn! Good times, good times.” John snorted. “Hey! Those were good times, personally speaking of course.” She walked over to a wall that had a door, but no handle. “ArchAngel, open my weapons room.”

  There was an audible click and the eight-inch-thick door swung away from the wall. Bethany Anne went inside as John walked to the doorway, peeked in, and whistled. “When did you get those KRISS Super Vs?” he asked, and stepped in to pull one of the submachine guns off the wall. “Damn, you have been holding out on me!”

  “Well, actually...” she said. John ignored the sound of her stripping and opening the box behind him as he studied the submachine gun.

  “God, these are wonderful. Take out just a couple of pins,” he said and turned to his left, where there was a little table for working on the weapons. He grinned when Bethany Anne pulled out the stick-on armor design that went under their clothes and…

  “Gott Verdammt, that’s cold!” she bitched behind him. “Ranting bollock experiment… Oooooh, damn.” There were a few more choice words as John took apart the .45 caliber gun, checking to make sure there were no rounds inside. “These were designed using concepts from the Kalashnikov,” John told Bethany Anne. “Large pieces that wouldn’t fuck up in the field. Easy to disassemble and clean.”

  “Uh huh,” she agreed. “Wow, she even gave my woohoo some protection.”

  John stopped looking at the gun and glanced up at the ceiling, trying to assimilate what he had just heard, and realized what she was doing. “I’m not going to ask.”

  Bethany Anne ignored him. “Wow, hope you don’t have a hairy sasquatch when you rip this shit back off.”

  “La la la,” John intoned. “More information than I wanted to know about my Empress,” he told her, carefully not looking.

  “I mean really,” Bethany Anne gasped a second later, “a minute on a lady’s lower lips…”

  Bethany Anne grinned when John launched into his own version of super-speed to put the submachine back together, place it back on the wall, and step out of her weapons room. She imagined how red his face must have been and snickered.

  Once she had the armor in place, she grabbed her stretchy fabric two-piece and put it on, then donned her leather gear. Ball gowns were for princesses, and she wasn’t a princess.

  She was the Queen Bitch.

  A few moments later she stepped out of her weapons closet and walked over to John, who was busy with his tablet. She placed her two swords on the bed and held up the KRISS. “Hey, big guy.” He turned to her, one eyebrow up. “This was supposed to be a gift to you on our anniversary. Sorry,” she told him and held the gun out to him.

  John’s eyes narrowed. “Damn, how many years has it been,” he asked as he accepted the submachine gun from Bethany Anne, “since you saved me in the Everglades?” He turned the gun over, and continued the inspection he had cut short back in the weapons room.

  “Too damned long, and yet just yesterday,” she answered. John didn’t see her surreptitiously wiping a small tear out of her right eye as she enjoyed his delight at receiving the gun.

  Her guys really liked to shoot the old stuff.

  “It’s a shame we can’t bring this,” He looked up, a question in his eyes. “We can’t bring this, right?”

  “Not exactly,” she agreed, “but we can chat about it with the others before we go down to the hotel.”

  “So,” Bethany Anne grabbed her swords and walked out of her bedroom, “what did Jean give you guys? Cod protection?”

  “Not funny, BA,” John groused.

  “C’mon Ashur, c’mon Matrix,” Bethany Anne called out, and the two German Shepherds came out of their room. Ashur’s totally white fur contrasted starkly with Matrix’ black body and four white-stockinged feet. Matrix was two inches shorter at the shoulder than his dad. “Make sure you both wear your armor as well.

  I hate armor! Matrix sent. It’s constricting.

  “No armor, no go,” Bethany Anne told him. “No choice.”

  This sucks planetarium piss, Matrix grumbled and jogged past Bethany Anne into the hallway beyond.

  Bethany Anne shook her head and smiled as she heard Darryl singing just outside her front door. “I’ve got the biggest codpiece of all!”

  Noel-ni Planet Sertjal, Floating Hotel

  “This is Giannini Oviedo outside the Unpronounceable Purple Hotel—”

  “Stop!” Sia lifted her Drone HUD glasses and gave her friend the look. “Seriously? The unpronounceable purple hotel?”

  “No.” Giannini shook her head. “I said the name with capital letters, like a proper name. You did not.”

  “How am I supposed to know the difference between capitalized and uncapitalized generic names?” Sia asked.

  “I’m a professional, so you have to listen closely.” Giannini smiled. “It’s all in the inflection.”

  “I’ll inflect you! Now say the name right,” Sia told her friend and slid the glasses back down on her face, covering her eyes. “In three, two, one…” Sia pointed to Giannini.

  “This is Giannini Oviedo outside of the XerpresciechCoth Hotel, which is the largest floating hotel on the Noel-ni Planet Sertjal. This,” she waved behind her at its three buildings, the swimming pool that spanned them all, and the varied landscaping, “is the location at which the Noel-ni have suggested the two starfaring combatants hold discussions related to their war. The Etheric Empire has accepted the Yaree into their coalition, thus providing them protection. The Leath, on the other hand, consider the Empire’s efforts to stop the final acquisition of the Yaree’s planet as a further justification of the war which, they warn, could affect multiple species and systems in this part of space.”

  Sia changed the view to a drone flying above the pool. “As you can see, this hotel is full of tourists and vacationers from all over space. There are over a thousand support personnel just for this hotel, and additional personnel have been brought in for the VIPs.”

  Sia cut back to Giannini.

  “Empress Bethany Anne will be meeting with Leath First Line Prime Commander Ch’lockteck, who is respo
nsible for the military endeavors of the Leath.” Giannini pursed her lips. “Strict weapons constraints have been placed on both sides; no weapons are permitted. The assumption is that the talks should at least be safe, if not exactly quiet. One presumes the Noel-ni have seen the videos of John Grimes, as they have also demanded that no armored suits be allowed. All attendees of both parties to the accord will be inspected before being allowed to leave their respective ships. I’m told Empress Bethany Anne has brought all five Queen’s Bitches as her personal guard.”

  She paused a moment before continuing, “We are sure our viewers will join us in wishing these peace talks all success. As we make our way inside to talk with those who have arrived, this is Giannini Oviedo reporting from Noel-ni planet Sertjal.”

  Noel-ni Planet Sertjal, XerpresciechCoth Hotel, Three Days Later

  Matrix was mentally bitching to TOM as he wandered through the hallways and backrooms surrounding the main conference area for the peace talks. The talks had been going on for two days now and the back-and-forth on petty issues had driven Matrix nuts, so he volunteered to go do something else.

  They stuck him on outer perimeter guard duty.

  This is just stupid! he sent to TOM.

  Oh, and why do you think that? TOM’s voice came back over the communication chip embedded in Matrix’ skull.

  I’m just patrolling around and around, doing nothing important. These aliens are going to start wondering what I’m doing, especially if I find a door I can’t open. I’ll just have to turn around. Before you ask, it’s annoying because it’s embarrassing.

  You are still worried about how others perceive you, little one.

  Bigger than you.

  And that means what exactly, Matrix? Do you believe your physical characteristics somehow make you superior to others? Is this why the occasional door you can’t open upsets you so much?

  Matrix went silent, pondering what he’d said as TOM continued his side of the conversation.

  You wanted to see the cosmos with me, and to understand math. Neither of those activities require you to be a massive specimen of your kind. It’s enough that you have sharp mental characteristics and a willingness to travel. So tell me again, why are you upset about the physical issues?