Alien Game

by Rod Walker

  I doubted it would be that easy. Plus, a little paranoid voice in my head wondered if the anti-Safari Company faction in the ministry would use Valier’s visit as an opportunity to assassinate him and install someone more pliable as minister. Some of the sabotage attempts we had seen, like Warner’s malfunctioning sonic alarm, could have gotten someone killed. Tanner agreed that it was a possibility, and urged me to keep my eyes open.

  Tanner tended to agree with that little paranoid voice in my head most of the time.

  Everyone at Outpost Town starting pulling double-shifts to prepare for the visit of the board and the Minister. If I hadn’t been indentured, I would have made a killing on overtime. Apparently, Valier was bringing his entire entourage of bodyguards and assistants and lackeys, and he had also invited along a bunch of illustrious guests. I suppose that was good. If the grand opening went well, the Safari Company might have a bunch of new clients, and since I wanted to hire on with the Company once my indenture was over, the growing number of clients was a good sign.

  After three months of nonstop work, we were as ready as we could manage for the day of the big visit.

  I had spent the last two weeks checking over every service drone, hospitality robot, and harvesting drone in Outpost Town. Tanner suspected that someone might have reprogrammed a drone to kill a guest, and after some of the sabotage attempts we had seen, it was a reasonable fear. Fortunately, I didn’t find anything wrong, other than the usual breakdowns caused by wear and tear. In fact, in the last six weeks before the visit, it seemed like everything had gone smooth as butter on hot glass. No sabotaged parts and equipment came in the supply shipments, none of the cleaning drones went berserk and tried to wash the guests, and the sonic fence didn’t malfunction. Maybe that meant the anti-Company faction within the ministry had decided to cut its losses.

  But I couldn’t make myself believe that. I had been a farmer for too long. Uncle Morgan had been fond of saying that whenever it looked things were going smoothly, that was the time to anticipate trouble.

  So I waited with Tanner and Kayla on the landing pad, watching as the ships descended from the cloudy sky. I hadn’t been sure what to wear, so I had finally gone with the body armor and jumpsuit guides wore on hunting expeditions, mostly because it looked impressive. Tanner wore his Security Director’s uniform. Kayla cleaned up nicely in a dress and high heels, and I was trying hard not to stare too hard at her. All the women at Outpost Town were married, so there hadn’t been any opportunities for me to meet girls anyway. Usually, workers rotated back to New Princeton for some leave every three months, but I was indentured, so I had been here for a year.

  Finding a girlfriend was something I could think about after we had survived the grand opening. It wasn’t as if I’d had any time for one anyway.

  “There’s Royale’s ship,” said Tanner, pointing towards a boxy light freighter settling down on the far end of the landing field.

  “Let’s go say hello,” said Kayla.

  We crossed the field as more ships touched down, the humid air heavy with the harsh smell of ozone from the ships antigrav units. The ships disgorged bodyguards and dignitaries, all of them heading towards Outpost Town’s big banquet hall. The guests would have a meal there, Hoskins and the board would give speeches, and Charles and the guides would take some of the more influential guests out on hunts. I figured I would wind up accompanying Charles on one of the hunts unless the kitchen drones suffered a mass breakdown.

  Mr. Royale’s freighter lowered its boarding ramp, and to my surprise, several men in the severe black uniforms of New Princeton’s Security Ministry descended to the landing field. Was Mr. Royale in trouble? Tanner and Kayla stopped a few yards away. Tanner didn’t look alarmed, so I relaxed, but only a little.

  A moment later Mr. Royale descended the ramp, wearing his usual white suit, accompanied by a battered-looking man in the uniform of a Security Ministry colonel. The left side of the colonel’s mouth turned in a sour-looking frown, left by the vicious-looking scar along his cheek. The wound must have been too severe for reconstructive surgery to repair. His ears looked like cauliflower, and his nose had been broken and reset several times.

  “Well, well,” said Mr. Royale, shaking Tanner’s hand. “Winston Tanner, Kayla Tanner, and Sam Hammond. It’s good to see all three of you.”

  “Good to see you, sir,” I said, shaking Mr. Royale’s hand.

  “Winston here has been telling me good things about you,” said Mr. Royale.

  “I have?” said Tanner. “That doesn’t sound like me, Spraycan. When would I do a thing like that?”

  Kayla gave him a gentle elbow to the ribs. “I’m glad to see you again, Ian. It’s hard to find civilized conversation out here on the frontier.”

  “Well,” said Mr. Royale. “It’s hard to find civilized conversation on New Princeton as well.” He gestured to the battered colonel. “This is Colonel Cassius Argent of the Security Ministry. The Security Ministry has expressed an interest in renting our little outpost here as a training facility for elite troops, and the good colonel has been assigned to view our operations firsthand.”

  Argent nodded. “Mr. Royale was kind enough to offer the use of his ship for transit here.” His voice was a little slurred, and he had to pronounce his words carefully, probably from the damage to his lips and jaws. “Unlike those perfumed princelings at EcoMin, we in the Security Ministry do not have unlimited expense accounts, and we must guard our finances accordingly.” He beckoned, and four hard-looking men in black uniforms stepped to his sign. “Mr. Royale, good day. Thank you again for the lift.”

  Argent strode off, his four men following him.

  “You’re not in trouble, are you?” said Tanner at last.

  “No,” said Mr. Royale. “Well, no more than usual. As far as I can tell, Colonel Argent merely wanted a ride to Arborea, and he wanted to do it off the books. He and his soldiers were pleasant enough company, if not terribly inclined towards small talk. I suspect he is investigating one of the potential guests, and wished to find a way to Outpost Town that was, shall we say, below the radar of the other ministries.”

  “I hope he doesn’t arrest whoever he’s after here,” I said. “That might be bad for the Company.”

  “Not necessarily,” said Mr. Royale. “It could be good PR. Show how we are cooperating with the law and all that. Given all the harassment the Ecology Ministry has given us, we don’t want to be seen as shifty. Paul Valier might have come around to supporting the Company, but he won’t be Minister forever, and some crusading young firebrand might take his place. Best to have as many friends as possible if that happens.” He grinned at us. “Though thanks to your efforts, that will be easier to arrange. Hoskins wrote quite highly of all the sabotage attempts you thwarted. Sam, you did so well it almost makes me wish we were paying you.”

  “Almost?” I said.

  “Well, not quite that much,” said Mr. Royale. “But if you want a job with the Safari Company when your indenture is over, whether as a guide or in the mechanical services department or even both, it’s yours.”

  That was good to hear. Hoskins had promised me a job, but Hoskins could be replaced and fired if the board wanted, and I had never known Mr. Royale to go back on his word.

  “The board has a meeting before the dinner,” said Mr. Royale, “but you’re all my guests at the dinner, of course. I expect Minister Valier will want to give a speech…”

  “Let’s hope there is a lot of alcohol,” said Kayla.

  Mr. Royale smiled. “I’m sure the Minister’s wit is matched only by his brevity. Once his oration finally wraps up, tomorrow the guides will be taking the board members and the prominent guests on tours of the neighboring jungle, a sightseeing tour of sorts. Perhaps we’ll see a tankstrider or a platewhale.”

  “Might be another revenue stream in that,” said Tanner. “Not everyone’s cut out to go hunting alien game with a rocket launcher, and not everyone can afford it, either.”


  “That,” said Mr. Royale, “is an excellent thought. We were looking at putting together some kind of group tour package… ah, we’d best wait a moment and let them pass.”

  A group of men strode down the landing pad. Six of them wore dark suits with sunglasses and earpieces and had the look of expensive private security experts. Tanner’s lip curled in an instinctive sneer. He had expounded to me, more than once, about his low opinion of the kind of private security that went around dressed in expensive suits. In their midst marched a heavyset man wearing a suit that probably cost more than all the bodyguards’ clothes put to together, scowling at a phone he held in his left hand while a beleaguered-looking woman with the air of an executive assistance towed three suitcases behind her. The heavyset man did not look up as he passed, but several of the bodyguards scowled in our direction.

  “Friend of yours, sir?” I said.

  “No,” said Mr. Royale.

  “That,” said Tanner, “is Alexander Toulon, chairman and chief executive officer of the Toulon Group.”

  “Oh,” I said, trying to think of where I had heard the name before. “That’s a big… chemical company, isn’t? From New Princeton, based in Roosevelt City?” I was sure I had heard the name before. I looked over at Tanner and saw that he was holding Kayla’s hand, that her lips were pressed into a thin, hard line as she stared at Toulon.

  Oh, yeah. That new pesticide that Valier had pushed upon Kayla’s family? Toulon Group had manufactured it.

  “Ian,” said Kayla in a soft voice.

  “Yes?” said Mr. Royale.

  “Are all our customers going to be scum like him?” said Kayla.

  “A fair percentage,” said Mr. Royale without rancor. “I’m afraid a man doesn’t get to Toulon’s level of wealth and power without leaving a large amount of harm in his wake. I hope overcharging Toulon a ridiculous amount for… well, absolutely everything in Outpost Town, is a sufficient revenge for the time being.”

  Kayla didn’t say anything, but she did smile, although I thought it was a little forced. I hoped Tanner had the good sense to keep her away from Toulon. Having a CEO for an interplanetary corporation poisoned or stabbed to death during the grand opening would not be good for the Company. On the other hand, if the tromosaurs got him…

  I put that line of thought out of my head, and then forgot it a second later when I saw the Ecology Minister, Paul Valier himself.

  An Acadarchy shuttle had put down at the edge of the landing field, closest to Outpost Town’s most expensive hotel, and it disgorged a troop of EcoMin’s black-uniformed Special Operations soldiers, which made sense of Colonel Argent’s decision to hitch a ride with Mr. Royale. A moment later, Paul Valier came down the ramp, wearing an expensive gray suit. He looked exactly the way he had in the portrait I had defaced, tall and lean, with thick black hair greying at the temples and a close-cropped black beard. He looked just like you’d want a politician to look, strong and commanding and trustworthy, and I could easily imagine him giving a speech to keep the population calm during a crisis.

  Of course, it was all a lie. I wondered if there was such a thing as an honest politician. I suppose anything was possible, but I had yet to meet one.

  “Right,” said Tanner. “We’ve got work to do. I’ve got to keep order. All these bodyguards with entitled bosses add up to a lot of twitchy trigger fingers. Spraycan, stay by the kitchens. Hoskins wants you to fix any of the kitchen and serving drones if they break down.”

  “Spraycan?” said Mr. Royale, raising his eyebrows.

  I sighed. “Don’t ask.”

  For once, something went right. The grand banquet welcoming the board and the various VIP guests went off with only minor hitches. Only three of the kitchen drones and two of the serving drones malfunctioned, and I managed to get them working again in short order. The kitchens outdid themselves preparing a feast of tankstrider steaks and fruits and vegetables harvested from the jungle. I filled a plate for myself and sat in a folding chair by the kitchen doors and listened as Hoskins welcomed the guests, followed by a round of speeches from the more important VIPs. Valier’s speech went on the longest, praising the Safari Company as an exciting new way for mankind to interact with the environment of an alien world while respecting its ecology and still maintaining a profit. It would have been a rousing speech, if not for the dozens of EMSO soldiers that patrolled the hall while he spoke. Uncle Morgan had always complained about the Ministry’s soldiers during his rants, and Kayla had spoken harshly about them a few times.

  I guess those Special Operations included protecting the Ecology Minister from assassination, because according to the guest list, Valier had brought a hundred of them with him. I made sure to stay well away from them. They stared at everything with flat, unfriendly eyes, and carried a lot of heavy weaponry.

  Yet despite all the guns and twitchy fingers in the room, the banquet went off without a hitch. People even seemed to have a good time. I bet the liquor helped with that.

  The next morning, we prepared to take the guests not suffering hangovers up in the quadcopters for tours of the nearby jungle. Every guide was taking a flight, and so Charles recruited me to help, along with all of Tanner’s security personnel. I wound up on Hobson’s quadcopter again, with me, Tanner, and Charles escorting Mr. Royale as he received a tour of the local jungles. That reminded me of my first flight on Hobson’s quadcopter, and my encounter with the tromosaurs that had nearly killed Warner. I was a little worried, although I knew nothing ought to go wrong since we weren’t even hunting anything, just giving Mr. Royale a tour of the local jungle. Yet after a year of dealing with malfunctions and glitches, both deliberate and accidental, I had gotten a lot more cautious. So I checked and double-checked my body armor and my Avenger, loaded up on ammunition and supplies, and helped Charles and Hobson double-check the supplies in the quadcopter. I also checked everyone’s sonar alarms, just to be sure. But all of them worked normally.

  Maybe some of Tanner’s paranoia was wearing off on me.

  “Board Member Royale,” said Charles as we finished loading the quadcopter for its flight. “Welcome! I am Senior Guide Hiram Charles, and I shall be overseeing this flight.”

  “Senior Guide Charles,” said Mr. Royale, shaking his hand. “I’m glad to meet you. Hoskins and the others have had many good things to say about your work.”

  “Thank you, Board Member,” said Charles. “And yet, excellence must be applied in all matters regardless of praise or criticism.”

  Mr. Royale blinked, then smiled faintly and made a formal little bow to Charles. “A commendable attitude, Senior Guide.”

  I tried not to laugh. I figured he had Charles’s number already.

  “Let us begin the safety briefing now,” said Charles, and he launched into his usual speech, pointing out the emergency exits from the quadcopter and the crash features and detailing how to use a sonic alarm properly. Most of the guests looked bored at this point, but Mr. Royale paid close attention. He was too polite to do otherwise… and maybe after his encounter with the fangwolves at Uncle Morgan’s farm back on New Princeton, he knew to pay attention to these kind of warnings.

  Once Charles had finished, we loaded into the quadcopter. Hobson started the engines, and we took off, leaving Outpost Town behind and soaring over the jungle. It was, at least by the standards of Arborea, a beautiful day. We flew forty yards over the highest canopy, the sky overhead mostly overcast, but huge rents in the clouds sent shafts of blazing sunlight down into the jungle, and where the light touched the tops of the trees, they turned a shade of green so brilliant it almost looked unreal.

  “If you will look to your left, Board Member Royale,” said Charles, “you will see the most common species of tree found on this continent of Arborea.” It was a little strange to see him acting like a lowly tour guide, but he was Senior Guide, and Charles took that responsibility as seriously as he took everything else. “We have located a pod of platewhales, and will go on a flyby. Platewhales a
re primarily vegetarian, though in times of scarcity they have been observed to expand their dietary spectrum.”

  A beep came over my earpiece.

  “Charles, Tanner,” said Hobson. “Something’s up.”

  “What is it?” said Tanner.

  “There’s another quadcopter coming up right behind us,” said Hobson.

  “One of the other tours?” said Mr. Royale.

  Tanner frowned. “None of the other tours should be coming this way. At least, they’re not supposed to be. Get them on the radio, Hobson. See if they’re having navigational trouble.”

  “Checking,” said Hobson. “No, nothing. They’re not answering.”

  I got up from my seat along the quadcopter’s hull and made my way to the back hatch, peering through the two narrow viewports, the deck vibrating beneath my boots.

  “Wait,” I said. “Tanner, that’s not one of our quadcopters.”

  “Are you sure?” said Tanner.

  “Positive,” I said. “I’ve been up in every single one of our quadcopters. That’s not one of ours.”

  Tanner scowled. “One of our guests must have brought one of their own for a little unauthorized joyriding. Well, we’ll charge them through the nose for that.”

  “Pilot Hobson,” said Charles. “What kind of quadcopter is it? Do you recognize it?”

  “Hang on,” said Hobson. “It’s a New Princeton Avionics AA-39 model, law enforcement configuration…”

  “Law enforcement?” I said. That model sounded familiar, for some reason.

  “EcoMin,” said Mr. Royale. “Aside from the police, they are the only ministry that flies that particular model of quad. Their Special Operations squads use them.”

  I shared a look with Tanner. So why was a Special Operations quadcopter, which wasn’t supposed to be on Arborea in the first place, following us while maintaining radio silence?

  I could think of a couple different reasons, but all of them were bad.

  “Hobson, raise Outpost Town,” said Tanner. “Ask them what’s going on.”