by B. V. Larson
I stopped walking and grabbed his shoulder. “Thirty?”
“You heard me. Half the fleet is gone. The rest broke off. They’re beating a long, spiraling retreat around Jupiter.”
“What the hell good will that do?”
“We’ve got a few missile bases at Jupiter, on the moons out there. But more importantly, running will buy us more time down here to prepare for our final stand.”
I felt sick, and it wasn’t just due to the revive. It was the magnitude of the disaster we faced sinking in. Had I made a gruesome mistake? Had I, in refusing to surrender, ensured the death of my species?
It was one thing to give up my own life. I’d done that more times than I could count. But to let the innocents of Earth be slaughtered by angry squids…
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“All the way down to the command center. Tribune Drusus is now Imperator Drusus. He’s in overall command of Earth’s defense.”
“I knew about that… but why are we going down there? I figured we should form up above ground somewhere—maybe surround Central.”
Graves chuckled. “A waste of time. If the squids break through, they’ll just throw a hell-burner down here and scatter us all to radioactive dust.”
Baffled, I let them take me to the command center. I’d never been inside Central’s nerve center. It looked like any Gold Deck on a dreadnought to me—a really big version of Gold Deck.
There were walls of screens and intelligent work tables everywhere. People were gaming out scenarios. I caught maps of the Solar System. On each of them, there seemed to be a mass of red dots pursuing a small cluster of green.
Some of the screens depicted captains reporting in their status. Many of the ships appeared to be damaged and struggling to keep up with the fleet. I shuddered to think what would happen to any ship that couldn’t stay ahead of the Cephalopod Armada.
Imperator Drusus looked up when we came near. He signed off on a report and nodded to us.
“Well, if it isn’t our destroyer of worlds,” he said.
I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, so I went with the best case and smiled back.
“That’s me, sir!”
He didn’t appreciate my enthusiasm. He tossed his computer scroll onto the table and sighed. Shaking his head, he walked away. Graves and Harris gave me a little push, and I followed him.
We stepped into a private office where Drusus sat with one leg draped over the arm of his chair. He poured himself a drink, but he didn’t offer me one.
This was unusual behavior for Drusus. He’d always been confident in my presence, and he’d never slouched in his chair or drank on duty.
We all stood there while he drew a pistol out on to the table and tapped at it with an index finger.
“You know what this is, McGill?”
“Uh… a gun, sir?”
“It’s your gun, McGill. The gun Turov used to kill you and Winslade.
“Oh, right.”
The conversation trailed off. I gave him my best friendly-but-dumb look. He gave me a flat stare in return.
“Not interested in telling us what happened? Nothing worthy of a comment?”
“What? You mean Turov’s crazy attack? Well… you shouldn’t be too hard on her. After all, she’s only died a half-dozen times in Earth’s service, sir. Sometimes, a bad death goes to trooper’s head. Even an officer can come out with a bad grow or a false residual memory that they can’t shake. Once back on Gamma Pavonis, I was revived thinking that my momma—”
“Shut up, McGill.”
“Yes, sir.”
He tapped at my pistol again. I had to wonder if I was about to die by my own weapon twice in one day. That would be quite a run of bad luck—even by Legion Varus standards.
He sighed and pushed it away at last. “We detected the discharge of a weapon in the elevator. We didn’t have audio, but we saw the struggle. Turov put you and Winslade down, taking you both by surprise.”
“Yeah… embarrassing. There I was thinking ‘don’t let her hurt herself’ then pop, Winslade was dead. A second later I joined him. She’s small, but she’s fast.”
“I was more interested in her motivations. I knew something was very odd about your story, and the actions your team took here at Central before the cephalopod attack began. But with the survival of Earth in the balance, I didn’t have time to figure any of it out. Now that our fleet is leading theirs on a chase, we have a few days to ponder these details.”
“I’ll do whatever I can to help out.”
His eyes flicked up to mine, and I could tell he didn’t believe a word I was saying. That’s the trouble with having a reputation for hedging the truth. A man has everything he says second-guessed after that.
“Motivations…” he said. “I’ve been reviewing security vids. Specifically, I played back the appearance of the cephalopod commando team in the conference room at approximately 0400 hours this morning.”
I gave him a polite nod and listened with a blank expression.
“At first, everything looked like your story matched. The enemy appeared, you shot them all, and along the way they grabbed Imperator Turov and dismembered her.”
“That’s the God’s-honest-truth, sir. That’s how it happened.”
“But what interested me more,” he went on, “occurred when I backed the video file up to a point a few minutes before the enemy arrived. Do you know what I saw?”
I shifted my weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other. I wanted to scratch, but I managed to ignore the sudden itching I felt.
“Uh… we chased the nerds out of the conference center, as I recall…”
A hard hand slammed into my back.
“You shot them down as they ran, you bastard!” Harris barked.
“Not true!” I said. “Not true at all!”
“McGill’s right,” Drusus said. “He didn’t shoot them. Turov did.”
Everyone fell silent. I could feel Harris’ hot eyes on my back. He wanted a fresh excuse to kill me. He never passed up such opportunities.
“I had to slow the file down and play it in slo-mo to get the details,” Drusus went on. “You held Turov. You allowed the cephalopods to kill her. Was that intentional?”
By now, I was outright squirming. There was nothing I hated more than getting caught by a pack of my own lies.
Drawing myself up to stand tall, I towered over all of them. “Damn right I let them kill her!”
“Is that because she was ordering you to resist them? Ordering you to shoot at your comrades?”
That one threw me for a loop. My mouth sagged open, and I stared in shock. I’d been prepared to admit that I’d gone along with Turov in order to stop her scheme, but to be accused of having cooked up the entire plot myself—that was too much.
“What? No sir. It was her idea. She contacted the squids. She had some kind of deal with them, and I stopped it.”
“You realize, of course, that she’s already accused you of this same crime.”
Finally, at long last, I was beginning to catch on. Turov had decided to use Winslade and me as scapegoats. We were the villains in her version of events, and she was the hero. She’d shot us to make her story stronger and then run off to tell it first.
In the meantime, Drusus had been investigating and trying to figure out who was lying. Probably, it hadn’t helped my case that I’d insisted on covering the truth until now.
“Get him out of here,” Drusus said suddenly. “Chain him to a chair or something outside. I have to think for a while.”
Harris and Graves hustled me out and did as they were ordered. Soon, I found myself alone—chained to a steel chair in the waiting room outside Drusus’ office.
I’ve never liked confinement. Stewing for a short while, I finally got angry. With a roar, I managed to bend the steel tubing enough to make the chair, which was bolted to the floor, break free.
Panting, I managed to control myself enough to think. Blood and sweat ran off of
me. I walked with the screeching chair dragging behind me by its chain leash. I made it back to the Imperator’s office. I tapped on the door. Eventually, Drusus opened it.
He snatched up my pistol and frowned at me.
“Yes?” he asked.
“If I was in league with the enemy commandos, sir,” I said gulping air. “Why would I have been the first one shooting them all down?”
His eyes glazed over in thought for a second. Finally, he gave a tired nod.
“Good point... in spite of many other mysteries you’re released, Adjunct. Report to Graves. He has an important mission for you.”
He tossed me keys, and I unchained myself.
“He does?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said, returning my pistol.
I picked the weapon up in confusion. “Uh… am I going to like this mission, sir?”
He shrugged. “It’s better than being executed immediately.”
“Right…” I said. “Sounds good enough to me.”
I left his office in a cheerful mood and went looking for Graves.
-12-
When I found Graves, he was in a training center with Harris. We were up off the ground floor, at about level ninety-something. Here, the experimental weapons systems were often tested by hog officers. At least, that’s what they told me.
“This area is restricted, McGill,” Graves said when I arrived.
“I know sir, but Drusus sent me here to join your mission.”
He stared at me for several seconds. He seemed unhappy.
“Uh… is there a problem, Centurion?” I asked.
“Yes. It’s you. Your loyalty has recently come under suspicion. I’m uncertain you’re a good choice for this duty.”
“Is it hazardous duty, sir?”
“Deadly.”
I nodded, completely unsurprised. “And will it involve violent action?”
“Of course.”
“Then I’m your man.”
He stared for a few seconds longer then finally sighed. “All right. But if I catch you compromising security in any way, I’m putting you down on the spot. Like a rabid dog.”
“Understood and agreed, Centurion. There will be no shenanigans, perversions or misconduct-unbecoming of any sort.”
He shook his head and walked away, muttering.
Left uncertain as to my status, I followed him as if I belonged at his side. He glanced at me a few times, the way a man might eye a dog turd he wanted to avoid stepping on, but he didn’t order me to back off.
“This is our newest team member,” he told the small group who had gathered at the back of the chamber. “Don’t let his rank fool you—he’s not in charge of anything. He’s a grunt on this mission, nothing more.”
I stood straight and kept a pleasant expression pasted on my face as the group checked me over. I didn’t recognize any of them, but I could tell they were hogs—well-built hogs that had obviously spent a lot of time working out, but hogs all the same.
They were tough-looking, but that didn’t impress me much. I’d never yet met a hog I couldn’t take out before he knew what was coming.
“McGill,” Graves said to me, “meet Omega Team. They’re Hegemony special forces. Omega Team doesn’t exist, formally.”
My friendly expression stayed firmly planted on my face, but it was a serious effort of will to keep it there. Among the mercenary legionnaires, Hegemony-types were a bit of a joke. Few of them had ever seen combat or even been off-world. A special forces team made up of hogs from the gym? I wasn’t convinced they could be effective at all.
But I managed to nod at them and keep my mouth shut. I was proud of that simple fact.
“Where’s the new gear, Centurion?” a hog veteran named Rork asked. He seemed to be in charge.
“It’s coming. The techs are still fooling with it. Apparently, there are power problems.”
The veteran nodded and stepped back.
“In the meantime,” Graves said, “I want everyone suited up in vac gear. We have to assume there will be nothing breathable where you’re going.”
The hogs hustled to a bank of lockers and began dragging out vac suits. Rork tossed me a suit. He tossed it high, which caused it to flap up over my head and cover my face.
I ripped it away—but I still kept that friendly expression going. I could tell I was going to have to struggle just to keep my attitude on the positive side around these guys. They were unbearably full of themselves.
“Uh… Centurion?” I asked quietly as I pulled the suit on.
“What is it, McGill?”
“What kind of special equipment are we talking about?”
He stared at me for a moment. “You probably know more about it than the rest of us do.”
“I don’t get it, sir…”
He walked away. Normally, Graves and I had a good relationship. I sensed that I’d blown that by becoming involved in one of Turov’s schemes.
Graves moved to talk to a group of bios and techs. He demanded to know where this ‘special equipment’ was and why it was late.
Harris stepped to my side when Graves was out of earshot. He wore a shitty grin.
“You still haven’t figured this out yet, have you?” he asked.
“Nope.”
He boomed with laughter. “That makes it all the sweeter! You see, McGill, you and your team of traitors did a lot of damage—”
“We were trying to stop an attack. Hell, we did stop it.”
He flapped a hand in my face.
“Yeah, yeah,” he said, “I heard all your bullshit. Made me sick then, and it still does today. You dishonored the whole damned legion. Even if you thought you were a hero, you should have known better than to pull your special brand of cowboy shit here at Central!”
I gave him a nod. He had a point there.
“Well, anyway…” he said, “I think you’re going to get to pay us back for your sins, so I shouldn’t be hard on you.”
“You going to tell me what’s going on or not?” I asked.
“You see that eager-beaver team of hogs puzzling out their vac-suits? They’re Omegas. They’ve been designated the A-team—I’d call them the B-team, but you know… I’m not in charge.”
“A-team for what?”
“For the first jump, of course.”
My eyes met his and widened. He was delighted.
“You really didn’t know, did you? You were completely in the dark? I love it!” Harris boomed with laughter. He clapped me on the back. His eyes were wet, he was so happy.
“McGill,” he continued, “this couldn’t have happened to a more deserving soldier. You’re a human guinea pig, boy! The techs are powering up a fusion reactor they have in the basement. They’re going to wrap you and the rest of these sorry-assed hogs up in squid-suits. Then, they’ll jolt the suits with juice and see what happens.”
At long last, I understood what I was in for. This hog team was supposed to try to utilize squid equipment. Only, no one had any idea how to work the suits.
We were going to attempt a jump. Right off, I found the idea fascinating and terrifying at the same time.
To jump into the blue, without a clue as to how the system worked or where you were going… Yes, that did sound like a job for James McGill.
About an hour later, the first suit arrived. The techs walked around it in a swarm. They had it laid out on a gurney like it was a fallen king. The suit had even been folded with loving care.
“Volunteers?” Graves asked the group.
I immediately raised my hand, but Graves waved me down. He pointed over my shoulder.
I turned to see that Veteran Rork from the hog group had raised his hand as well—hell, the whole squad had. Hogs or not, I had to admit they had balls.
“Get the veteran into the suit,” Graves said.
The techs rushed Rork like vultures. They pressed his thick legs into two of the numerous leg-holes and the whole outfit squeezed up, resizing itself intelligently.
>
“Give him some juice,” Graves said when they were finished.
“One second,” said a tech officer, moving up to put a hand on the control panel. She was cute with small hands and small features.
“Veteran,” she said to the hog in the squid-suit, “I thank you for your service.”
“Glad to serve,” Rork answered with pride.
The tech girl nodded. “Okay… as best we can tell, the suit is powered through this port here. But we don’t know how much juice to give it. We’ve fabricated an adapter plug—but it’s guesswork.”
“I understand,” he said stoically.
She nodded and turned to Graves. “Are you sure you want to start off with human trials already? If we took a few more days…”
“The squids will be in orbit in a week,” Graves told her. “Stop wasting time.”
She licked her lips and turned back to the veteran. She didn’t meet his eyes this time.
“This dial here is the only control on the suit. It’s not marked, except for these six points. We think it’s a timer—or maybe a distance gauge. In either case, it’s best that you give it just the slightest nudge to start with. That way, your journey should be short.”
“I got it,” he said, his face white but determined.
“First, we’ll apply power,” she said.
She coupled up the adapter. I noticed that the other techs were hanging well back. That concerned me, and it took all my willpower to not step away a few paces with them.
“Dial up the generator!” the tech called over her shoulder.
Her team did as she ordered, and a hum filled the room. The hum grew into a droning sound that set my teeth on edge.
Shouting now as she stepped away, the tech called out to Rork. “Go time, Veteran!”
He nodded, and he put his hand on the dial.
“For Earth and for Omega Team!” he shouted.
The rest of his hog companions cheered and pumped their fists in the air.
The veteran gave the dial a tiny nudge—and a blue-white jolt of energy was instantly released.
I knew right off that something had gone horribly wrong. When I’d seen the suit operate in the past, it had done so with a blurring effect, a quiet warp in the look of the room. This time, it was more like a bolt of lightning had struck.