Home World (Undying Mercenaries Series Book 6)

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Home World (Undying Mercenaries Series Book 6) Page 30

by B. V. Larson


  “So, instead of calling for another officer to fly in from Geneva or Shanghai, you took the reins of power for yourself—without authorization.”

  “It was a temporary situation,” Drusus said firmly. “I relayed my decision to the council. And for the record, I think I did rather well, considering.”

  “Do you? Dare you go so far as to call that slaughter in the north a success?”

  “We didn’t win, no. But we took more than our weight in enemy troops with us. Remember, we were outnumbered four to one.”

  “Tribune,” Nagata boomed. “Consider yourself demoted. Your actions here amount to an ill-conceived power-grab. We’ve been invaded by an alien power. The enemy is on the march. Their ground-mobile shields are preventing us from bombarding them, and we have no significant ground forces between Central and this growing menace. Does that sound like a job well done to you, Graves?” he asked suddenly, turning to face the centurion.

  Graves looked worried as well.

  “I’m sorry sir,” he said. “I’m not fit to judge.”

  Nagata drew his sidearm. It had a long, thin barrel. He pointed the wicked-looking gun at the ceiling.

  “Yes!” he shouted. “There we have it—the wisdom of a man who knows his place. A man who has a rank he is content with. A man who doesn’t dare to ape his betters and lose the home world as a direct result.”

  “Hold on,” Drusus said in alarm. “Are you trying to blame this entire invasion on me?”

  Nagata stared at him through slitted eyes.

  “No,” he said at last. “That would be going too far. You didn’t bring the enemy to our doorstep. What you did do was seize power in a moment of opportunity.”

  “Sir, the top brass was all permed as far as I—”

  Again, Nagata’s gun popped up. He shook it at him.

  “Not so! There was another officer who should be alive and running things right now. I’m talking about Imperator Turov, of course.”

  We all stared at him, dumbstruck.

  “But sir,” I said, unable to keep quiet any longer. “She’s a traitor.”

  He glanced at me unpleasantly. “So you say. So you’ve been told. Are you a traitor as well, McGill?”

  “Uh… I don’t think so, sir.”

  “No, no, of course not. You’ve only been doing what you think is best for Earth, isn’t that right? No one has permed you for doing your best, have they?”

  “I guess that’s true, sir.”

  He nodded and glanced at his tapper. “Well, we’ll sort this all out in a few moments. Imperator Turov will be here in—”

  The door popped open before he could finish his sentence.

  There, at the entrance, stood a snarling Turov. Her hair was still wet from her revival.

  “I’ve been gone for weeks!” she exclaimed. “Why?”

  “I believe it was Graves who shot you,” Nagata said, waving his hand at the centurion.

  Turov awarded me and Graves a snarling glance, but her eyes fixed on Drusus.

  She stepped up to him, and they squared off. There’d never been any love lost between these two. In fact, they were as bad as Harris and I about bumping each other off.

  “So,” she said. “You prefer to stand silently while Graves, your faithful lapdog, barks for you. Is that it?”

  “I did what I had to,” Drusus said firmly. “I’d do it all again, if the decisions were mine to make today.”

  “Yes. Exactly as I thought. A mutineer to the last.”

  Drusus turned back to Nagata. “I fail to see why you revived her. Her accusations are absurd. She’s the traitor—hell, she’s the one who had you killed, Nagata. Almost permed.”

  Nagata nodded his head thoughtfully. “Yes, that’s true. This is a difficult decision. I need a good commander, but I don’t seem to have one.”

  They both looked astonished at his words. Clearly, both Turov and Drusus thought they were the logical candidate for command.

  “Justice must be done!” Turov demanded.

  This surprised me. In my mind, justice would have started off by leaving her dead.

  “Hmm,” Nagata said, pacing again. “Yes, justice... I’ve received word from the council. Extreme measures are now acceptable to them—Any extreme measure that I deem necessary. The enemy must not be allowed to take the capital.”

  “What kind of—” began Drusus, but Nagata waved for silence.

  “First of all, I’ll begin with the easiest choice. Graves, you’re hereby sentenced to death. McGill, carry out the sentence immediately.”

  I was shocked. I reached for my pistol, but I didn’t draw it. Graves had placed his hand over mine.

  “Not necessary,” he growled as he watched Nagata with a cold, unblinking stare.

  Calmly, he drew his own weapon and, although the other officers winced, he put the muzzle to his head.

  “Earth must not fall,” he said and shot himself.

  This just flat-out stunned me. I’d been planning to draw my pistol and threaten the officers with it. Shooting Graves—hell, he was only man in the room who definitely didn’t deserve it.

  His body toppled forward and lay still. We all gaped at it.

  “That was bullshit!” I said loudly. “Sirs.”

  Nagata’s gun was up again. “Shut up, McGill. Your fate has not yet been determined.”

  He carefully considered Drusus and Turov next.

  “What am I to do with you two?” he asked. “Only one of you can command here at Central. Only one of you is fit to do so—but which one?”

  “That would depend on your philosophy, sir,” Drusus said. “Do you believe in surrender or a fight to the finish?”

  Nagata sucked in a deep breath and nodded. “Well stated, Drusus. A month ago, the choice would have been easy. Back then, surrender was unthinkable. But since then, we’ve witnessed the strength of these aliens. More gateways have appeared in strategic locations on Earth—you didn’t know? It’s true. The invaders are still pouring onto Earth’s soil. They have a planet full of soldiers behind them. Perhaps in the end they’ll bring a billion troops to our home world.”

  Drusus’ lips became a tight line. “I can see how this is going. Am I to be arrested?”

  “Yes,” Nagata said.

  “Are you putting me in command or not?” Turov demanded suddenly.

  Nagata looked at her in distaste.

  “Yes,” he said at last.

  “Good,” she said. “As my first action, I hereby order Tribune Drusus to report to the brig for processing.”

  He walked out, looking proud but resigned.

  “This is crazy,” I complained. “You’re putting her in charge?”

  “Silence, McGill!” she said. “I’ll have you shot again if you don’t stop talking.”

  “What the hell for?” I demanded. “Sir.”

  Nagata answered before she could. “Because you conspired to take Central.”

  I pointed at Turov. “But so did she!”

  “That’s not all,” Nagata said. “You’ve performed countless criminal acts since this invasion began. You’ve even withheld vital intelligence from your superiors. In fact—I demand you hand over the Galactic Key right now.”

  We locked stares. I was stunned that he knew about the key. It explained why I was here in the first place, and that didn’t make me happy.

  His hand flexed, palm up.

  Slowly, I drew the item he had demanded out of my pocket. Turov bit her lip and watched hungrily.

  “You mean this seashell-thing?” I asked. “My mama found it for me on the beach.”

  “Hand it over, you fool. If you don’t I’ll have you executed as well.”

  After a few seconds of hesitation, I tossed it to him. He caught it and smiled.

  “Excellent,” he said, admiring it. “I’ve been waiting to hold this in my hand again for a long time.”

  Then, in his moment of distraction, I smoothly drew my sidearm. In the same motion, I shot him in the
face.

  It was rather neatly done, if I do say so myself.

  -48-

  “McGill!” Turov screeched. “Are you crazy?”

  “Maybe,” I said, walking over to the body and kneeling down.

  She came up behind me and pried open Nagata’s dying fingers. I knew what she wanted, and I let her have it.

  “Why’d you do it?” she demanded.

  “Why? With Nagata out of the picture, you’re the one in charge here.”

  “That’s not really Nagata, you idiot,” she hissed at me. “That was Claver in disguise.”

  “Oh yeah,” I said with a shrug, switching off the box at his belt. “I thought he was acting a little funny.”

  She looked at me suspiciously. “You knew it was Claver?”

  “Sure did.”

  “Then why did you take so long to shoot him?” she asked. “Why wait until Graves was dead, and Drusus had marched himself to the brig like a boy scout?”

  “Well…” I said. “I thought you and I might be able to come to some kind of an arrangement with the others out of the picture.”

  Her eyes narrowed like an angry cat. “What kind of deal are you fishing for, McGill?”

  “I need your brass to get me out of my troubles—and to change an order I don’t like.”

  She thought about that, looking me over.

  “Of course,” I went on, “I could just shoot you right now, but that would be hard to explain. If there’s any more funny business between us, we’ll both be permed in the end.”

  “You’re nothing but funny business,” she complained.

  “Can’t you even guess what the deal is?”

  She sighed. “Tell me.”

  “You get to keep that special item you just put in your pocket,” I said.

  Reflexively, her hand went to her hip. She squeezed, gripping the lump she found there. “How can I trust you now?”

  “We could seal it with a kiss,” I suggested.

  She scoffed at that idea.

  “I get to keep the key,” she said, “and you get to keep breathing. But stay out of my way.”

  “Uh-uh,” I disagreed, shaking my head. “Not good enough. You’re going to tell the lab people I’m back on the project. I’m going to explore the last teleport location.”

  “What good will that do?”

  “Do you know where the last selection on the dial goes?”

  “No, of course not. Only Claver knows how that works. The teleportation angle was all his: the suits, the tech—everything. That’s what he brought to the cephalopods with a promise Earth would be subdued easily.”

  “With him left in charge as planetary governor in the end, no doubt.”

  Her eyes flicked downward, and she made a pouting gesture with her lips.

  “Wait a second!” I said, catching on, “you were going to be the governor? That’s why you were part of this coup? What was Claver getting out of it?”

  “Highly lucrative shipping contracts.”

  I made a noise that was somewhere between a sigh and a hiss of rage. “You two never quit. You’ve been working on a scheme like this for years. You’re never going to rule Earth, Galina, I’ll tell you that right now.”

  She looked at me and gave me a tiny smile. “I’m leading Earth’s defense forces at this moment, thanks to you, McGill.”

  I wanted to kill her, but I controlled myself.

  “Reinstate all of us: Graves—my entire unit. I want the slate wiped clean of all investigations and allegations.”

  “Done. Now, report back to the labs. Have fun with your squid-suits. I’m done with all that.”

  I eyed her thoughtfully. “You’re going to surrender to the squids, aren’t you?”

  She shrugged. “Not yet. The rest of Earth will never accept defeat until Central falls. It will be a few days—maybe a week.”

  Shaking my head, I couldn’t believe the lack of concern I heard in her voice.

  “Galina,” I said, “how is it you want to be the slave of a cephalopod so badly? Don’t you want to be free?”

  “Freedom is an illusion. A recruit who dies at the word of his centurion—is he free?”

  “Maybe, if he does it willingly as a volunteer,” I argued.

  “We’ve lived under the thumb of the Galactics for more than a century. Were we free all that time? No. There is no freedom. There’s only survival and whatever you can grab today with your hands.”

  She made a grasping motion with her fingers for emphasis.

  I stopped arguing with her, even though I wanted to keep going.

  She let me go, and I thought about what she’d said as I rode the elevators down to the labs.

  I wasn’t interested in trading one alien master for the next. From what I’d seen, the squids were worse. They lived closer to Earth, for one thing, and they liked to mess with humans more. I could see them editing our species right here on our home world. Maybe that was their real goal: gaining a fresh breeding stock to replenish their genetically designed troops.

  People were in a grim mood down at the labs when I got there. They were just suiting up Ferguson again for another experiment.

  Ferguson looked like a hound dog left out in the rain. His face was so long, so forlorn and miserable, it was painful to look at.

  “I’m sorry,” Lisa told him, “I’m so sorry…”

  She adjusted his suit and jiggled at the sleeves, as if fixing them.

  “Get on with it!” Adjunct Toro called. “Let’s fry this fish then go eat.”

  Ferguson was almost shaking. He looked like he’d filled his pants already and was considering doing it again.

  “Hold on!” I said as I stepped into the lab. “Lisa, don’t touch that switch.”

  She whirled and her face went through a quick series of emotions. She was relieved, pissed, and sad all at once.

  I felt a pang, because I knew why she felt like that. She rushed to me and thumped a fist on my chest even as she hugged me.

  “You took the key,” she said, “you took it, and I couldn’t find it. Tell me you still have it? They started up the tests again, and they keep dying.”

  I nodded and patted her absently. “I’ve got it, don’t worry. Take me up there. I’m going to take Ferguson’s place.”

  Ferguson perked up as I approached and asked him to relinquish his suit.

  “It’s been bad, McGill,” he said. “Whatever magic we had before, it hasn’t worked today. I’ve been fried four times in the last four tries. We can’t even duplicate our earlier experiments.”

  “I’ll take the next ride,” I said.

  “You sure? You just got out of the oven yourself, I hear.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure.”

  He shook my hand with both of his. “Thanks, man. I really owe you.”

  It was hard for me to accept his thanks when I knew that my carelessness had already cost him several trips through the guts of a revival machine. But I managed to keep a straight face. If my lips were too tight and bloodless, he’d probably chalked it up to fear rather than shame.

  A few minutes later, I was suited up.

  “I’ll take a short hop, just to test the system,” I said.

  “We tried that,” Toro said tiredly.

  “I know. Just give me a chance. I’ll put the old James McGill touch on things.”

  Toro rolled her eyes and walked away.

  “Okay,” Lisa said, adjusting my gear. She had to let the suit out in the armpits, as I was bigger there than Ferguson was. “Here’s the plan. You just port to the number one position then pop right back. This is a system integrity test. Nothing fancy required.”

  “Uh… okay.”

  She looked at me sharply. Unfortunately, she was starting to get used to me, and she knew when I was full of shit.

  “You’re not…” she said. “What are you planning? Don’t mess around, James, this is too important.”

  “I know,” I said, “it’s just about all that’s left. T
hat’s why we have to take our chances with a big play. You know what Mark Twain used to say?”

  “What?” she asked.

  “That necessity was the mother of taking chances.”

  She looked at me and laughed. It was a bittersweet sound.

  “Do whatever you want,” she said. “You’re going to anyway.”

  She really was getting to know me. I gave her a smile then scooped her up for a kiss before she could race away.

  It was about then that a scuffle began out in the hallway. Everyone looked, wondering what was going on.

  Everyone except for me, that is. I knew it was Turov. I knew her voice, and I knew why she was coming down here as pissed as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.

  She stepped into the room and lifted the key I’d given her. She smashed it on the floor.

  “A seashell?” she demanded. “You gave me an honest-to-God seashell?”

  Except for Lisa and me, no one else knew what the hell was happening. But the pack of MPs at Galina’s back clued them in. The bystanders backed away from her, from me, and melted toward the exits.

  The hog MPs lifted their rifles and aimed them at me.

  I smiled a big, Georgia smile at them. “You boys going to shoot me? Go ahead, I dare you.”

  Turov jumped between us.

  “No!” she shouted. “Hold your fire. James, get out of that monkey suit and give me my property.”

  “I can’t,” I said, “not quite yet.”

  With those words, I made a little spinning motion with my fingers in Lisa’s direction. She had big eyes, but she knew I had the key, and she knew it looked like a seashell. She also knew that Turov had been declared a traitor not days ago.

  Lisa cranked up the generator, and it began to hum.

  “Dammit!” Turov screeched, running toward me, grabbing at my hand. “Give me that key! Get away from that—”

  I clicked the selector to the first position. We jumped together, melting and reforming several hundred floors down.

  Galina fell against me, breathing hard. “What was that? What did you do?”

  “I took you downstairs,” I said, “away from your goons.”

  A few confused-looking people stared at us. They were there to accept arrivals, but they hadn’t expected me to come in with an Imperator in my arms.

 

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