by B. V. Larson
Then I felt something squeeze hard. Multiple somethings.
I couldn’t see the squid who’d apparently come with me, but I could sure as hell feel him. He was trying to crush me. My ribs crackled, and a few of them snapped. I’ve felt that sensation before, and it had never been a pleasant experience.
I tried to cry out in pain, but I couldn’t hear myself. I couldn’t hear anything.
This struggle went on for a long time. The jump wasn’t just a few seconds long as it had been the last time. It was more like a minute. Along the way, a few things occurred to me.
For one, the Squid who was trying to throttle me seemed to give up. He relaxed and I could breathe again.
The other thing was that I couldn’t be going home—it was taking much too long for that.
Eventually, I was somewhere again. Somewhere I’d never been before.
A sky of green and white sprang into existence overhead. I was standing on a seashore just outside a very odd-looking building. It was tall and shaped like a beehive made of carven stone.
Since the ocean was green-black and the sky was green-white, I decided right then to name this place Green World.
The next thing I noticed was the state of the squid who’d ridden through space with me. He wasn’t in good shape. He’d been broiled, by the look of it. Like fresh calamari, he peeled away from my body, hot and steaming.
It occurred to me then that the teleportation suit had protected me from suffering the same grim fate. That probably explained why it needed to be a suit in the first place, instead of just a power coupling, some wires, and a control dial.
My hand leapt to the dial. Sucking air in gasps, I felt broken ribs rasp against one another in my chest with every breath.
“Screw this place,” I said, and I twisted the dial to the third position.
Naturally, nothing happened. I cursed at length and coughed. Was that blood in my mouth? Yes, it was.
Great, I thought. The squid had managed to puncture a lung.
Picking up the laser pistol from the cooked squid, I saw it was damaged as well. I discarded it into the frothing sea and walked up the beach toward the only building in sight.
Wherever this was, I seemed to be on an island of some kind. I took the opportunity to look around, allowing my cameras to create good panning vids of the environment.
When I reached the building, I hesitated. Should I just walk in? What if there were a dozen squids in there, all hungry for supper?
Deciding I didn’t have much choice in the matter, I reached out and touched the chunk of rock it had for a door handle.
That’s when I saw it—out of the corner of my eye. It was something that looked like a black garden hose sitting on the ground, protruding from the wall of the strange building. I would have never given it a second thought, but I saw there was a coupling attached to this hose. A familiar coupling which I just knew would fit nicely into the plug on my suit.
Before I could stagger to it and give the dice of fate another throw, the door opened. Apparently, my touching the handle had set off some kind of alarm—maybe it was the squid equivalent of a doorbell.
There was a very odd creature in the doorway. It wasn’t a squid. Instead, I recognized it as one of the Wur.
The Wur had never been my favorite alien species. They were probably the weirdest I’d yet to encounter, in fact. They were plants with mobility and excellent genetic reproductive control. They could build whatever they wanted from spores like a tree that could decide how to grow a branch in any shape it wished.
What the hell? That was my first thought, and I could tell the Wur was thinking the same thing.
For about a half-second gap, neither of us did anything. Then I lunged toward the power-outlet and the Wur backpedalled into its beehive-house.
Grabbing up what could only be a weapon of some kind, the Wur came after me a second later.
My hands were weak and floppy. Shock from the broken ribs? I didn’t know, but I wasn’t feeling too good. I was feeling kind of sick, in fact.
Shoving the plug in, I twisted the dial to the sixth setting—not the third, or the fourth—the sixth.
What made me do that? I honestly don’t know. Maybe I was tired of trying to figure out this suit and where all these pathways led. Maybe my hand made the choice on its own by twisting too damned hard.
Whatever the case, Green World with its green sky, green ocean and a lumbering monster that shouldn’t be there—it was all gone.
I experienced another long jump. I didn’t know where I’d end up, but I’d almost lost hope.
This was the moment of despair. A point in a given lifetime where I was about ready to give it all up and accept death. I knew that feeling very well as I’d been on that brink between light and dark more than a few times.
Finally, I was real again. I was whole. I felt breath in my lungs instead of the half-numbness of the void. Like smoke forming again into a solid, I knew I was… somewhere.
I opened my eyes. I’d hardly been aware that I’d had them closed.
For some reason, I thought I’d be back in the lab if I’d found my way to Central. But wherever I was, it wasn’t the lab.
The place was strange at first. All bright lights and a crisscrossing web-work of taped lines, wires and tiny nails driven into the floor.
What fresh hell was this? I turned slowly, my side hitching, taking everything in.
Then I saw them: tables stacked up against one wall. I knew where I was in that happy moment. This was the basement under Central. This was the room where the squids had initially jumped. The place where Carlos, Kivi and I shot them down as fast as they’d appeared.
I was home. That information flooded my brain, and it drove everything else out.
Passing into unconsciousness in stages, I collapsed on the floor in what felt like slow-motion. First, my knees hit. I barely felt that. Then my injured side hit, and my busted ribs crackled like dry twigs. An explosion of sickness, rather than pain, swept through me.
Breathing in raspy wheezes, my vision turned white. People were circling around me. They were tech investigators who’d been assigned to figure out how the teleportation trick had worked—how the squids had appeared here in the midst of our holiest of holy basements.
As I wasn’t quite out yet, I was aware of people circling and kneeling around me. Someone opened my faceplate and removed my helmet. I coughed, but I couldn’t answer their questions coherently.
My vision dimmed. The pain in my side had become dull as had my hearing and thought processes. The last thing I remembered was thinking that the cool concrete under my cheek felt kind of nice. Almost cushy.
People were fussing, but before I could comprehend what they were doing or saying to me, I lost consciousness.
-19-
What happened next seemed to me to be a crying shame. They recycled me.
For some reason, this really pissed me off.
I’d liked that last version of James McGill. That fellow had accomplished a lot. He’d slept with a pretty woman. He’d shot a few squids and visited two alien environments. Damn it, even by my standards, the previous version of myself had been a worthy legionnaire.
But none of that mattered to the ghouls we called bio specialists. They took the easiest path they could whenever faced with a difficult problem. They were the sort of people who’d throw out a perfectly good chair because they didn’t feel like spending a few extra minutes driving a new screw into it.
“Bullshit…” that was my first word after I came out of the revival machine.
“What’s that, Adjunct?” a bio asked me.
“This is all bullshit.”
“What’s his Apgar score?” she asked her assistant.
“He’s a nine—but he’s acting belligerent. Should we reroll?”
“Nah, give him another few seconds to come around. We don’t have enough time to fool around with this one.”
“Get off me,” I growled, pushing away
orderlies and some fool who was shining a flashlight into my face. That fool turned out to be the bio who’d just given birth to me.
“Adjunct McGill?” she asked angrily. “Do we have a problem?”
“We sure do. I hate dying for nothing, and I hate coming back even more.”
“I’d suggest a recycle,” the orderly said.
I was really beginning to dislike the guy. With bleary eyes, I swung my legs off the table and tried to spot him. He was a blob, but a blob that would rapidly come into focus as my freshly grown eyes began operating.
Standing up, I got in his face, swaying on my feet. “You just try it, boy!”
They backed off after that. I put on some fresh one-size-fits-all legionnaire blues and staggered out into the hallway. After managing to make it to the elevator, I punched buttons until I made it back to the lab.
When I reached the lab, I was still in a bad mood, and I made a scene.
“Who authorized recycling me?” I demanded loudly from the doorway.
The tech team melted away from me. Unlike the rest, Lisa rushed up and hugged me. I winced reflexively—but then realized my ribs didn’t hurt anymore. They’d all been regrown.
Giving her a light squeeze in return, I slid her to one side and walked toward Graves. He was standing over a fresh mess on the floor.
“There you are, McGill,” he said. “The bio people just texted me that you’d come out of the oven not five minutes ago, and you’re already back for more. It’s good to see this kind of dedication in a junior officer.”
“Was it you?” I demanded, ignoring everything he said. “Did you have them grind me up and crap me out again?”
He looked at me coldly. “So what if I did? Are you going to whine about it?”
“Just seems unnecessary. I fought so hard to get back to Earth. I did amazing things. What was my reward? Execution and a new body.”
“You know, we could have left you dead. Getting the treason charge dropped wasn’t easy. Would you have been happier with that?”
I might have done something extra stupid right then, but I felt hands on my midsection. Lisa had come close and touched me. She looked up into my face, concerned.
“What’s wrong?”
“Your boyfriend is an extremely tall baby,” Graves answered. “Listen McGill, we don’t have time for ribs to heal. We had to recycle you. The squid fleet is still coming. There was no time.”
“He’s right, James,” Lisa said quietly. “There’s no time for recuperation.”
Heaving a great sigh, I shook my head and found a place to sit down. “I did so much. I saw so much.”
Graves walked closer and stared at me. “Yes, you did. We’ve been reviewing the recordings you made. I’m quite impressed. Any idea where that second world was located?”
“I was hoping you could tell me.”
“We’ll figure it out. There’s a team of techs somewhere in this building going over every detail of your vids.”
“Like the team in the basement?”
“Those people are low-tier. They haven’t come up with much yet. The best people we have are working on your suit. The one you jumped in successfully is right here, by the way.”
“All right, I guess I have been a baby,” I said. “Sorry.”
“Apology accepted. However, disorientation is uncommon in a legionnaire with your level of experience. Hmm… Did you feel odd after teleporting?”
I thought about it then nodded my head. “It’s like turning to smoke then coming back together again each time.”
“Interesting. Maybe teleporting is like dying. Maybe these devices don’t actually transport you, but they break you down to code and rebuild you in a new place. Maybe you feel like you died multiple times in rapid succession—because you did.”
I looked at Graves in surprise. He appeared thoughtful, which was an abnormal expression for him. He usually just kicked whiners in the butt until they stopped whining.
“Is my slate clean now?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said. “Your rank and status have been restored. I’m going to release Kivi and Carlos, too.”
“What?” demanded Harris from several paces away. He’d been listening in, apparently.
“That’s ‘what sir’ to you, Harris,” I barked.
Harris walked over, glaring. Graves stepped away from us, moving back to the tech group. He began to harangue them as they worked on a set of nine suits on tables. Lisa gave me kiss and trotted after him.
“I can’t believe you got yourself out of a well-deserved perming, McGill,” Harris told me. “Personally, I can’t see it. All you did was pop around and get yourself—”
“Centurion Graves!” I called over Harris’ shoulder. “Veteran Harris hereby volunteers for teleport test-duty, sir.”
“McGill, I don’t care what—” Harris began angrily, but he shut up in a hurry when Graves walked back to the two of us.
Graves looked Harris over. Then he turned to me.
“McGill, you’re going to have to jump again, but I’m going to have you lead a team this time. This mission was supposed to go to Omega Team, but you’ve proven you can do better. I’m not sure any of these hogs could tolerate teleporting if it feels like dying every time.”
Stunned, my mouth hung open. This was what I got for playing hero and getting crushed by squids?
“That doesn’t seem like much of a reward, sir,” I pointed out.
“It isn’t. Legionnaires aren’t supposed to be looking for perks. We’re here to serve and die—as many times as necessary.”
Harris chuckled. I gave him a cold glance.
Graves looked at Harris too. He wasn’t laughing.
“McGill,” Graves said thoughtfully, “you’ll need a noncom to help you with your squad, won’t you?”
“That’s right sir,” I said, my mood lifting. “I’ll definitely need a vet or two to keep the troops in line. I hereby request that you make it an experienced man. One who takes to dying like a pig takes to mud.”
Graves and I both studied Harris.
“Oh now… hold on. Just hold on a second, Centurion…” Harris said, staring in alarm at both of us in turn. “You can’t be thinking that I’m going to serve under McGill! I’m in Adjunct Leeson’s platoon.”
Graves awarded us both with one of his rare, deadly smiles.
“Not anymore,” he said. Then he clapped Harris on the shoulder, just as Harris had done to me the day before. “Thanks for volunteering, Vet. I’ve always thought you and McGill were a match made in heaven.”
Sullen, but resigned to his fate, Harris fell into line and did what he did best. He marshaled up the team of Legion Varus troops Graves had hand-picked.
The Varus team was top-notch. There wasn’t a fresh recruit in the bunch. All five held at least the rank of specialist. Besides Harris and me, Kivi and Carlos were going. The last familiar face on the team was Veteran Sargon. He was one of the best legionnaires I knew.
“Centurion?” I asked, frowning. “I thought you said nine of us were going. There’s only six here.”
“That’s right,” Graves said. “I couldn’t ditch the hogs entirely. Sorry about that, but you’ll have to take a few of them with you on your next jump.”
I waited to meet these lucky souls. The first of them was none other than the red-headed, rat-eyed fellow I’d seen fry several times the day before. He’d never smiled, and I knew why. His name was Ferguson, and I figured he’d earned the right to join us if he wanted to.
The second was a meatball weaponeer named Lund. He had muscles that would have made a bulldog proud. He wasn’t smiling either, but he looked like he could handle himself.
The third and final member of the hog delegation was the only surprise in the mix. It was none other than Lisa, the tech Adjunct I’d slept with the night before.
She looked so scared I thought she was going to puke.
“All right,” Graves said loudly. “Listen up. We’re putting it all on
the line this time. McGill here has managed to penetrate the enemy ship known as Force. We’re going to try to do that again, but with an assault team this time.”
Glancing over at Lisa, she shot me a nervous flash of a smile. I could tell she wasn’t happy. I raised my hand.
“What is it, Adjunct McGill?” Graves demanded.
I pointed at Lisa. “Why is a non-combatant part of my team?”
“Because she’s the best tech we have. If something goes wrong with one of these magic suits, she’s the only one who might be able to fix it.”
“I’ve already got Kivi. A commando raid isn’t suited for desk-hogs.”
Lisa winced as if stung. I knew she didn’t like my comments, but I felt I had to protect her—and the rest of my team.
“Adjunct Smith?” Graves said, looking at Lisa. “Do you feel unqualified to perform this mission?”
“No sir,” she said.
I heaved a sigh. She’d blown her chance to get out of this alive. There was nothing I could do after that.
“Fine,” Graves said. “You’ll do. Okay team, I want you rested and back here at 0600 hours. We’ll gear everyone with special equipment then, and we should have information on the target ship’s layout by that point. The nerds downstairs will be working on it all night long, but I want you fresh and ready to chew nails in the morning. Rest up! That’s an order. Dismissed.”
After people began to melt away, I walked over to Graves, frowning.
“Centurion? Could I have a word?”
He put up a gauntlet defensively. “My decision is final, McGill. I’m sorry about your girlfriend, but no other tech officer has the knowledge she does about these suits and their operation.”
I shook my head. “That’s not what I’m talking about. I was wondering what, exactly, our mission is when we get aboard Force?”
He blinked twice in surprise. “I would think that would be obvious. You’re to eliminate her crew and take control of the ship.”
“Is that all? You don’t want us to repaint it or nothing?”
He chuckled. “I would think that capturing her will be challenging enough for you.”
I thought about it for a second, and then I nodded.