The Expendable Few: A Spinward Fringe Novel

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The Expendable Few: A Spinward Fringe Novel Page 18

by Randolph Lalonde


  “It’s a real threat,” Shannon insisted. “We can’t trust your suppositions.”

  “We can’t trust paranoia either,” Anderson replied. “We’ll have to agree to disagree, from the looks of it. Now, what brought you here?”

  “I wanted to tell you in person that Clark Patterson’s team has officially been written off. If they return to this ship, they’ll be treated as deserters,” Shannon said. She stood and started for the door.

  “You don’t have that power. You’re oversight, remember?”

  “When there’s evidence of wilful sedition, I can order you to dissolve and disavow a team,” Shannon said. “That’s what I’m doing. You’re also being assigned to review a deal that was made a couple of days ago. I’d do it myself, but as you pointed out, I only have conditional command authority.”

  “Wheeler,” Doctor Anderson said. “Why me?”

  “I know you have history, but you are the only one who has the rank to approve the deal,” Shannon said. “Have you reviewed the materials?”

  “He’s trading his claim to the Triton for permanent amnesty with Freeground Nation and standing rank with Intelligence,” Doctor Anderson said. Giving Lucius Wheeler more power and a safe haven was against everything Anderson felt for the man. He was the only person he’d known in all his years that he would never be able to forgive. “You could submit this for approval next time we’re clear for a burst transmission.”

  “You’ll do this now because he has put a clock on his offer,” Shannon said. “As Wheeler put it, he can only remain aboard the Sunspire for so long.”

  “I’ll put it through after I check the written component for surprises,” Doctor Anderson said.

  “You’re not going to meet with him? He seems very interested in speaking with you,” Shannon replied.

  “He’s lucky he’s not under guard. Captain McPatrick isn’t fond of him either.” Doctor Anderson cleared his throat and shook off a rising wave of irritation. “Like I said, it’ll be done, but I’m noting that there was significant pressure from Oversight. Hopefully this will come up for review when a new party is elected.”

  “That won’t be for a very long time, Doctor,” Shannon said.

  “We’ll see.”

  Chapter 21 - Errands

  “Why does he look so nervous, Samuel?” Mary asked Davi.

  Davi looked over his shoulder to Kipley, who was looking every which way with fearful, wide eyes. The rough-hewn round tunnel around them glittered under the light of naturally bioluminescent plant life growing out of the walls. The stones in the walls looked like the insides of sea shells, flattened by heat then rounded by rushing fluids. The looser soil had turned to glass. “He’s afraid of mirrors,” Davi replied with amusement.

  “Fuck you,” Kipley spat back in a whisper. “Could be anyone hiding on the other side of these walls, watching us right now. We’d never know.”

  “Picking anything up, Remmy?” Mary asked.

  “Just the people we’re meeting and us,” Remmy replied. “Jitters over there is crazy. These walls don’t hide anything, I can get a clear scan of all the nearby tunnels for over ten klicks.”

  “So, what did this?” asked Tamera, one of the Intelligence cloak troops that was discovered when they arrived.

  “This was once the main transit arteries between several clutches,” Emiss said. She led the dozen armed issyrians who were responsible for this trip. The humans were just going along for help. Davi was sure that Kipley, Judge, Tamera, and Stanley were being tested. Whatever they encountered on this trip had to be handled gracefully, or they’d be counted out when it mattered. He paid close attention to Emiss; she seemed to be one of the active leaders, and familiar with Mary. “Water flows between clutches, like your cities. It is our main form of transportation, communication, and a demonstration of trust. If all the clutches are healthy, then the cities in a network thrive. If one clutch becomes diseased, the others can purify it, heal it.”

  “But if they all face disease?” Judge asked.

  “Then the clutches must be drained, or isolated,” Emiss said. “And our waterways become still, then dry - like this.” Emiss picked up a handful of loose soil and glass chips and let it slip between her fingers. “Dead.”

  “Better find a better system,” Kipley muttered.

  Judge slapped him across the back of the head.

  “Hey!” he said.

  “Stop talking,” Judge said with a glower.

  Kipley was about to reply but thought better of it, and swallowed his words.

  “I’m sorry this happened to your people,” Davi told Emiss.

  “You don’t understand,” Emiss said. “Outsiders can never understand,” she replied before picking up her own pace and walking ahead.

  Davi thought a moment and looked around. The tunnel didn’t smell like the sewers of Trest, but he couldn’t help but recognize that there was a lot of dead plant life between the glittering features of the wall. The transit-way had been dry a long time, dead a long time. “What am I not seeing here?” he said so Mary, Remmy and his own people could hear.

  “The clutches aren’t just cities,” Remmy said. “They’re collections of organisms. The issyrians communicate with their environment, including the living things that build their homes.”

  “So there’s a builder class we’re not seeing?” Davi asked.

  “No, animal intelligence sea mammals, from what we’ve seen,” Mary said. “Think of something like an octopus that builds a nest, like a spider builds a web, lays their eggs, raise their young then moves on. The issyrians learned how to influence them into building nests that make good homes, and a lot more. That’s just the beginning. Purdai are the main species that they use, but there are hundreds of others.”

  “Just like a spider isn’t the only type of insect that can spin a web,” Tamera added.

  “Right. Plant life provides everything else,” Remmy said. “The thing is, the issyrians communicate through chemistry, and that gets caught in everything. When they die their bodies become part of the clutch too. So, lost relatives who live a long, natural life in or around their clutches aren’t forgotten. We have our religions and what we think an afterlife is like, they have clutches that keep them healthy for centuries and consume them once they die. Knowing that future generations will be able to feel their presence along with all their other ancestors is their immortality.”

  Davi didn’t have to say anything, he just nodded. Death was never absolute for an issyrian unless they were isolated from their clutch for a long time, or if it was destroyed.

  They walked in silence for a while before Mary turned to him. “So, how did you get reassigned to the Sunspire?”

  Davi knew the question was coming, it wasn’t something he liked to talk about, but knew he’d have to share. “I was married to a good man,” he replied. “He’d love this, actually. Jovral had great taste.”

  “Jovral? That’s a Lorandian name, isn’t it?” Remmy asked. “I didn’t think Freeground was associated with Lorander that long ago.”

  “They weren’t,” Davi said. “He changed his name during our brief alliance with them a few years ago. He thought it was a lot better than Bart.”

  “He’s right,” Remmy chuckled.

  “Anyway, Jovral wasn’t a military man. A little too delicate for the service, as he used to say,” Davi said. It was difficult to talk about him, but he pressed on. “I tried to keep most details of my job away from him.”

  “Were you transferred out of the regular forces because of your relationship?” Mary asked.

  Davi shook his head. “We were married before the Puritan Party was voted in, there was nothing they could do. That was, until one of my subordinates produced evidence that Jovral was cheating on me while I was deployed.”

  “Happens to a lot of us,” Judge said.

  “Yeah, and a divorce would have satisfied the higher ups if my subordinate didn’t also have evidence that Jovral had long discussi
ons about my post with his lovers. Seems he knew a lot more than I thought.”

  “I’m sorry,” Mary said.

  “Well, Jovral was sentenced to twelve years, a slap on the wrist. I was sentenced to twenty five. They put him in civilian prison,” Davi took a long breath and let it out as he tried not to think too much about what he was about to say. “He lasted five days before his bunk mate smothered him in his sleep. They say they didn’t know the man was a Puritan fanatic, but I’ll never believe.”

  “Sons of bitches,” Kiply said.

  “I was coming up on four months in prison when they pressed me into service on the Sunspire. Intelligence says they want me back in the regular service, I just have to prove myself, but there’s no place for me on Freeground.”

  “Yeah, you must hate them after what they did,” Kipley added.

  Davi could barely hold down the urge to pistol whip him. “I’m a patriot, you half-wit fuck up. I always will be. If I knew that getting back into the service would change Freeground for the better, I’d move worlds to get back in, but they’ll never stop watching me. If I so much as litter near the Parliamentary Chambers, they’ll throw my ass in jail or send me to the furthest end of Freeground space to some asteroid post. Instead, I’m going to have to make my way alone, like you.”

  “Samuel,” Judge said, calming Davi down. “Don’t be so sure you’ll be alone out here. We all need someone to watch our six.”

  “Don’t know what your problem with me is,” Kipley said peevishly. “But the ape-man is right.”

  “Now you’re overestimating your place with us when we get free,” Judge told Kipley. “You still have to earn a spot on that shuttle.”

  “What did he do to get pressed into service?” Remmy asked, nodding at Kipley.

  Judge pulled Kipley into a headlock and proclaimed, “he thought it would be funny to drop an empty grenade into his C.O.’s lap at a bar near post.”

  “And you?” Mary asked Judge.

  “I got disavowed on mission,” Judge replied, releasing Kipley. “But headed home anyway. Had to see my three girls, even if it took years of good behaviour in the stockade.”

  “What kind of mission?” Remmy asked.

  “Snatch-and-grab on Persephone Four. Got there in time to see our guy get killed, was caught in the open, and Intelligence thought I was the one who exposed our target as a Freeground spy. I didn’t get close enough to mess things up that bad, but once Intelligence makes their mind up about something, there’s no changing it.”

  “I thought you served with Davi?”

  “I did, but went into special ops when he got locked up. Then, bam, first mission goes south,” Judge replied. “Just the luck.”

  “Who was Freeground spying on?” Remmy asked.

  “Never heard of the Persephone system before?” Judge asked. “It’s the nearest solar system owned by Regent Galactic. It’s probably been completely converted to Order of Eden by now. You think Freeground Intelligence is keeping their distance from the Order? Guess again.”

  “So you’ve seen Regent Galactic civilized space?” Remmy asked.

  “Only one city,” Judge answered.

  Everyone stared at him as they waited for him to elaborate, especially Remmy. After sometime he finally asked. “And? What was it like?”

  “It’s a lifestyle experience tailored to suit your every need,” Judge said in an uncharacteristically chipper tone. “That’s what the artificial intelligences like to tell the more talented residents, but everyone has more than they need unless you’re talentless and luckless. It’s pretty easy to earn a lot of credit with the corps there, but living there is expensive, so you need to keep working to keep your credit level up. The poorer you are, the fewer freedoms you have.”

  “Sounds like a great place to live if you’re talented,” Remmy said.

  “Yeah, but talent isn’t everything. You have to be pretty social,” Judge said. “From what I saw, some pretty intelligent people went real deep into debt. Companies used to buy people for their debts, or jail them. Now they join the Order of Eden, who clears their debt in exchange for a long service contract.”

  “Seems they’ve got so many ways to trap people,” Mary said.

  Davi hadn’t heard the stories of Judge’s time in Regent Galactic space, but wasn’t surprised. The big soldier wasn’t typically forthcoming about his experiences unless asked a direct question. Silence settled over the group until they reached a bend in the tunnel and met their contacts.

  “Clear waters, Mentor Losame,” Mary said, raising open arms to an issyrian that Davi found difficult to look at. The better part of one side of the man’s head was held together by a fine latticework of rods and strands. If it weren’t for the transparent helmet he wore, and the suspension fluid within, his head would fall over onto his crudely shaped, bulbous shoulder. Most of the people with him were undergoing similar, but less grisly repair processes. They were the roughest looking dozen issyrians Davi had seen. They carried large crates like pack animals. Extra tendrils extended from their torsos to the ground to add strength and support. It never occurred to Davi that being a shapeshifter could provide extra strength, but these diseased ones proved it.

  “I am glad to see you, Mary,” replied Mentor Losame.

  Emiss touched Losame’s chest with her bare hand and nodded. “It’s time for you and your people to come with us. The humans are moving in to the cities west of here.”

  “I would be hesitant,” Losame said. “Except there is already a raid planned on the old spawning pools.”

  “Mentor,” interrupted a healthier looking issyrian. “They have humans with them. They cannot be trusted.”

  “I felt your objection before it was spoken, Itirit,” Losame replied. “Your ignorance would blind us to opportunities, like trustworthy allies.”

  “Can you give us directions to the spawning pools?” Mary asked. “I’d like to do something about that.”

  Emiss’ group of issyrians started to take some of the supplies and share the load as she regarded Mary. “That is above the call,” she said. “It also may be too easy for you to lose life.”

  “If you want Mentor Losame’s people to have an easy time getting to Trest Under City, they’ll need a distraction. Besides, we need equipment.”

  “Then I’ll leave the decision to you, as you’ve been correct in your actions until now,” Emiss said.

  “I’ll give you directions,” Mentor Losame said. “Thank you very much.”

  “We need weapons anyway,” Mary said. “And these humans need to stretch their legs.”

  “We’re starting a firefight?” Kipley asked no one in particular. “That’s the best news since I got here.”

  Chapter 22 - Making A Difference

  Davi recalled the images of issyrian homes from Patterson’s neural report, and upon seeing them with his own eyes, at street level, he realized that the man hadn’t taken a good look. A lot of the report indicated that Patterson was so focused on his mission that he missed a lot of details.

  The stench Davi and his people encountered in Trest was in the winding streets, but to a much lesser extent. The homes were bulbous things, round globes piled atop and against each other and dried. Impoverished, seemingly bored issyrians peered at them through dark oval doorways.

  “This is Rolue, a city built in the bottom of a dried lake,” said Emiss as she returned from telling several households that there was a raid coming. “Their homes are made from incubation sacs, they harden when dry.”

  “So these are all kids?” asked Kipley.

  “No, idiot,” Emiss said as she split off again, heading for the next cluster of homes. Expectant issyrians waited for her with worried expressions.

  “Their children are dead,” Mary said flatly. “Their broods need to incubate in an underwater clutch.”

  “What the hell is a clutch anyway? I thought it was some kind of bag,” Kipley replied.

  “It’s a group of eggs. Issyrians f
ertilize in groups, so the children belong to the whole community, it’s one of the reasons why they’re a peaceful people by nature.”

  “Nasty,” Kipley said with a shudder.

  “Best if you stop talking now,” Judge growled.

  Emiss returned to them, looking more anxious. “The Order soldiers have been seen just ahead,” she said, pointing up a pathway.

  “That’s our cue, time to buy these people time,” Mary said.

  “Are you sure these can be trusted?” one of Emiss’ issyrian companions asked, eying Kipley up and down.

  “They’ll fight for you, don’t worry,” Remmy said.

  “Or I’ll kill them myself,” Mary added.

  They began the quick jog up the path, between green and brown stained issyrian homes that were quickly emptying. “Sir, I have to advise you,” Tamera said in as low a whisper as she could manage while being heard. “If you open fire on Order of Eden soldiers you’ll be in direct violation of your orders. There will be no way you or any of your people will be able to return to the ranks of any arm of Freeground military.”

  “That’s if you and your Gretch report us,” Davi replied. “None of us have neural recorders, they wouldn’t let any of us near them if we did.”

  “He’s right, this can be swept right under the rug,” Remmy said. “Just in case any of you really want to go back.”

  “You don’t?” Kipley asked Remmy.

  “Hell no, there’s a mess here. If you have any heart at all, you’ll want to help out. Maybe if I survive this, I’ll be able to go see that great big galaxy out there too. Why would I want to go back to an overgrown space-can?”

  “The fucking smell alone is enough to get me wishing I was back in that can,” Kipley said. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ll fight for you because I follow Davi’s lead - he keeps me alive - but I can’t wait to get back home. Freeground might be an old can, but she’s safer than this place, probably any place.”

 

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