What motivated people, other than greed? Love, perhaps. But that didn’t seem to fit here. Revenge? Against whom, and for what? And then there was fear.
Something sparked in his aching brain, and Tag saw again images Ezekiel had shown him on the Dawn. White-lightning beings reached through space and time to abduct the UNS Hope’s crew members, stealing their lives away and leaving half the survivors in a state of delirium.
Tag looked up, the tendrils of his headache forgotten for the moment. “I... I think I know why they did this. They were afraid.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Tag stood and began pacing, his mind going into overdrive. “If I were to guess, these people were recruited. Just like Ezekiel tried to recruit me on the Dawn. He tried to convince me the galaxy was in some kind of grave danger.”
“Was he even telling the truth about those lightning aliens?” Sofia asked. “I couldn’t tell.”
“But that’s just it, isn’t it?” Coren said. “He sowed just enough doubt in us, so imagine if you showed that footage to these guys?”
“You implying marines are dumb?” Bull asked with one raised eyebrow. “Careful where you tread, Mechanic.”
“No, I don’t mean to... I just...” Coren fumbled for words before recovering. “My point is that the Collectors demonstrated a believable threat greater than themselves.”
“You’re suggesting that the Collectors scared these guys into assassinating Doran and us?” Bull asked.
“Perhaps not directly. The human collaborators may have approached these marines instead,” Coren said.
“But someone or something convinced these guys that Doran was a threat to the SRE and the human race,” Sofia said.
“Not just her,” Bull said. “Us too.”
“I saw it in their eyes,” Tag said. “They obviously thought they were doing the right thing.” He looked hard at Bull. “And if I know anything about marines, when they think they’re doing the right thing, it’s goddamned hard to convince them otherwise.”
Bull nodded. “True.”
“But why these particular marines?” Tag turned back to Sumo and Lonestar. “If I were a gambler, I’d bet these guys all shared something in common. Easiest place to look is where they were stationed, no?”
“That seems to be an appropriate assessment,” Alpha said. It took her only a few seconds to perform a public service record on all the marines. “Would you like to see the results?”
“Do you need to ask?” Sofia asked.
Alpha looked to Tag for clarification, still apparently struggling to grasp the layers of human communication, and he gave her a nod. With a swipe of her metallic hand, a holo appeared above one of the tables. It displayed a complete list of locations where the marines had served, detailing a variety of duties ranging from other ships to far-off satellite stations and burgeoning colonies.
And while their careers had been varied, almost all of them shared one common factor.
Lonestar pointed to the first location on the list. “The Principality of Orthod. That colony is only twenty or so light-years away from my home planet.” Her face pinched in a scowl. “Bunch of damn crazy people living out there. Always stirring up trouble. They don’t like the SRE much, either.”
“They’re rebels?” Sofia asked. “Is that what this is about?”
“That can’t be it,” Tag said. “What benefit would they have targeting us?”
Even as he said it, his head was filled with conflicting theories. Maybe the rebels wanted to unify other discontented colonies. They might have needed a common enemy to rally against, and the Argo and the Drone-Mechs were it. Maybe they saw Tag’s mission to protect the SRE’s expansion as contrary to their beliefs. Everything he came up with felt like he was stretching for an explanation when the simplest answer was right in front of him: collusion with the Collectors.
“Seems logical,” Coren said. “But even I would hesitate to impugn these humans with such an accusation without some kind of evidence.”
“My information on the Principality of Orthod is limited,” Alpha said. “I am unable to provide details beyond basic statistics. Would you like to hear those now?”
“That’s okay,” Tag said. “Lonestar, can you tell us anything else from first-hand experience?”
“One time some assholes from Orthod came and tried to buy up all our family ranches when I was six or seven. They were real pushy and weren’t afraid of showing off their money.”
Tag had hoped for something more relevant to their current predicament. “Any idea if these were colonists looking for a homestead or companies trying to invest?”
“They were suit-types,” Lonestar said. “I don’t know for sure, but I’d say they were company people. No clue who they were representing.”
They sifted through the data Alpha and Coren had pulled up. Doran’s marines returned with rations and medical supplies. Tag ensured no one else needed his services as a medical doctor before tending to his own wounds with autoheal gel and a dose of painkillers. A sigh of relief escaped him as the painkillers flowed through his vessels, banishing his headache and temporarily assuaging the throbbing soreness in his jaw.
The hatch banged open, and Admiral Doran strolled out of the room where she’d been interrogating Blank. Her sleeves were rolled up to the elbows, and Tag thought there was a bit more blood across her knuckles. He knew better than to ask questions.
Doran called over two of her marines from the corridor. “Take him away. Lock him in his own quarters. No access to electronics of any kind, and post a guard.”
The marines nodded and dragged Blank out of the room. Alpha stopped what she was doing and stared at the bloodied mess of a man. “This man needs medical assistance.”
Doran slowly exhaled, looking like she was about to refuse. “Fine.” She waved her hand at Alpha. “But don’t be too generous on the painkillers.”
Alpha left her terminal and began tending to Blank. Tag recalled only too well the time she’d told him about the strange thrill she got from ending lives on the battlefield. Those words had frightened him, but he was glad to see she had evolved past it, now far more enamored with saving lives than ending them. Her synth-bio intelligence was still young and malleable, and he was pleased to see it moving in a direction more in line with the Hippocratic Oath he’d once taken.
Still, part of him thought Blank would be better off dead. The man was a traitor who was in all likelihood working with the collaborators, if not the Collectors. Blank would have slaughtered Tag and the entire crew of the Argo for his misguided cause. It was hard to watch Alpha working to save the life of such a man.
“Blank wasn’t much for talking,” Doran said.
Tag wondered how she could have worked him over for so long without getting something useful. The thought must’ve shown on his face.
“Trust me,” Doran said, rolling down her sleeves, “I tried everything permissible by SRE conventions. The bastard wouldn’t talk.”
“How far are you willing to go, Admiral?” This time Coren was staring at Doran, no doubt drawing comparisons to the Drone-Mechs.
“I won’t be employing any mind-slaving technology, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Doran said. Coren looked satisfied with the answer and turned back to his terminal. “But if this plot runs as deep as it seems to, it’s vital we get to the bottom of it.” Dark bags hung under her eyes as she looked at Tag and the rest of the crew. “Please tell me you had better luck.”
“We found something,” Tag said. “All the dead marines served at least one deployment on Orthod.”
“That old colony? Gods be damned,” Doran said. “Wonder why they were...” Her words trailed off, lost to the ether of her churning mind. Tag watched the wheels turn as she looked around the chamber. To the marines, she said, “You all, stand guard outside. I need to speak to Captain Brewer and his crew alone.” Once they had exited, she shook her head, running her fingers through her short, cropped hair. “That ship you saw on
the Dawn was a Starinski, wasn’t it?”
“It was,” Tag said. “Or at least, we think it was. They were also one of the companies contracted to work on the Hope before the crew turned themselves into post-humans.”
“You’re a scientist. I assume you’re not big on coincidences.”
“That would be accurate.”
“This isn’t the first time Orthod has come to my attention. We’ve tracked a few different companies that tried to invest in Orthod’s colonization efforts through back channels. Mineral rights, natural gases, all the usual. Starinski Labs happened to be one of those groups. Now, I’m not saying this is a definite connection, but like you, I’m not a big fan of unexplained coincidences.”
“And you want us to investigate?” Tag motioned to the rest of his crew.
“I do,” Doran said. She leaned against one of the tables. “Look, I know you all just got here, your ship’s still banged up, and we just did a number on you.” She laughed ruefully. “But gods be damned, after what just happened, I honestly don’t know who I can trust in this ship. It’s going to take far too long to pick out the rats on the Montenegro. I need someone on the Orthod connection now.”
“Understood,” Tag said. “We won’t fail you.”
“I know you won’t. Because if you do, one of two things is going to happen. Either my career is going to be worth less than a Mechanic’s fart or else I’m going to end up dead. I don’t like either of those options.” Doran let out another sigh that devolved into a fit of coughing. Once she recomposed herself, she went on. “Something big is coming. I don’t want to be twiddling my thumbs when it does. Find out what, if anything, is going on at Orthod, and be quick about it.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Tag replied. “I assume we’re on our own?”
“You got that right. It’s going to take some political maneuvering to clean up whatever Blank was involved in. I need you to work quickly and quietly. Got that?”
Tag looked at his crew. They were all watching him. There was no question in his mind whether they were headed to Orthod, but he wasn’t happy about the way Doran was throwing them into a dangerous situation without support. “If we show up on Orthod and start asking questions, the colonists will be suspicious. I don’t want to put my people at risk unnecessarily.”
“Good point,” Doran said. “Tensions between the colonists and our government are high. It would make sense to send you as diplomats or mediators, but”—her gaze meandered over the group, lingering on Coren and Alpha in particular—“you all don’t exactly look like the type. Still, you’ll need some kind of mandate when you’re there.”
Tag raised a brow. “We could be on a scientific mission.”
“That alone might not give you much leeway with the SRE side of Orthod.”
Sofia perked up, her eyes gleaming. “I have an idea. It’s going to require a little playacting, but it might work.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Admiral Doran personally shuttled Tag and the crew back to the Argo. Tag was eager to leave before the investigation into Blank’s failed mutiny began. As much as he wanted to help Doran, finding the mutineers’ links to the Collectors was more important. He worried that word of the failed assassination would reach the collaborators, and they might lose their chance to discover the truth. If they didn’t leave immediately, the bureaucratic and political nightmare that would ensue would assuredly entangle them as well.
Though Tag had been tense during the short shuttle flight, leaving the Montenegro proved an uneventful affair. Soon they found themselves in the familiar realm of hyperspace, rocketing toward the coordinates that Doran had given them. Restraints unclicked throughout the bridge as Sofia, Alpha, and Coren stretched from their crash couches.
“All repair bots have been engaged to continue work,” Alpha said. “They will do so until we initiate transition into normal space.”
“Good,” Tag replied. “They’ve got a few days to get the shields and weapons back online. Hopefully, once we get to Orthod we won’t have much use for weapons or shields, but I’d rather be prepared.”
“Awfully optimistic after what we just went through,” Sofia said. “Wonder if there are any welcoming parties on Orthod that’ll greet us like Blank did.”
“I hope not,” Coren said. “It’ll make my role a little harder in all of this.”
“Well, you’ve had plenty of time to see how my job works on Eta-Five.” Sofia opened the hatch leading out of the bridge. “You’ll make a damn fine fake anthropologist. Just leave any actual work to me.”
“Your status as an alien may also be to your benefit,” Alpha said. “Your culture and mannerisms will be foreign to the people of Orthod, so they will likely assume any discrepancies in your behavior are due to your xenomorphic origins.”
“In other words,” Tag said, “people are just going to think you’re weird anyway.”
“I’ve always thought so,” Sofia said, clapping Coren on the shoulder.
“I rue the day I joined up with humans,” Coren said, ducking as they took the ladders below deck.
“Honestly, I’m surprised you’ve stuck around this long,” Sofia said. “You must have a soft spot for us. Must be our good looks.”
“Hardly,” Coren said.
“I admire the human ability to develop complex moral and ethical codes of conduct,” Alpha said. “Is that true for you as well, Coren?”
“We’ll go with that,” Coren said.
The patter of claws tapping against alloy echoed from a corridor. Lucky bounced toward them with her head held high, having released herself from her safety cage. She raced them to the mess. With the advantage of having crash couches nearby, the marines had already begun to dig into food. Autoserv bays at the back of the mess pumped out salty air along with the unmistakable smell of charred meat.
Gorenado took a plate from one of the bays. “Nice to finally have a real meal.”
“They don’t feed you well in quarantine, do they?” Lonestar asked.
“Three hells, I’m pretty sure we fed prisoners better back on Tartarus,” Sumo said. “And that prison housed some of the worst scum in the galaxy.”
Coren punched a button on the sole Mechanic-oriented autoserv bay, and something pungent spewed onto his plate. Seemingly unperturbed by the offensive odor, Coren took it back to where the rest of the crew was seated. Tag had wanted to make up a batch of noodles for himself, but Coren’s choice of meal had entirely quashed his appetite.
“That smells like raw sewage,” Sumo said, scrunching her nose in disgust.
“Reminds me of when we’d spread fertilizer over the fields.” Lonestar shrugged and continued eating. “It’s not great, but you get used to it.”
“I question your sense of smell,” Sofia said, pushing back a sandwich.
Coren took a bite of the white substance floating in a pool of yellow broth. Red flakes were scattered in the fluid, and Tag wondered what kind of mutant, fungus-laced mess that meal was based on.
“Coren, as your captain, I’m ordering you to eat that in your quarters next time,” Tag said.
Coren cocked his head, a hint of bemusement crossing over his fur-covered brow. “You’re joking, right? I can never tell with humans.”
“Are you joking?” Bull asked.
“I have to admit,” Coren said, still chewing the soft white substance, “I’m a little confused by your reaction. This is human food, after all.”
“For what kind of humans?” Gorenado said, looking a touch green. “Cannibals?”
“Hardly,” Coren said.
Alpha peered at the food with mild interest. “May I?”
“Be my guest.”
The synth-bio droid spooned out a piece of the white substance, placing it in her artificial mouth. “The taste is quite distinct from the smell. Tangy, but not unpleasant.”
“But it’s human food?” Tag asked, still incredulous.
Coren slurped down another mouthful. “Mechanics are nothing i
f not honest. This is a Taiwanese dish known, if I’m not mistaken, as ‘stinky tofu.’ It’s one of the only human delicacies I’ve found appetizing.”
“You know what,” Sumo said. “It’s perfectly fine if you go back to eating Mechanic food only. I’ll even drink a pint of C’reen Dahl if you promise not to eat that stuff in front of me again.”
Coren seemed to consider this for a moment as he slurped up the last of his meal. “No deal.”
Groans sounded all around the table. At least with the stinky tofu finished, Tag had regained a fraction of his appetite. He made his way back to the autoserv bay and selected a mild meatloaf. When he joined the group again, they began sharing tales of the strangest foods they had eaten, ranging from Coren’s experience with yogurt to Lonestar’s insistence that bull testicles were not as terrible as they sounded to Sumo’s knowledge of how to properly roast a scorpion—not the ones they had run into on the Hope station, she clarified. It seemed like a normal crew dinner. Almost as if they were on a routine mission and not shuttling between an assassination plot to a colony planet riddled in conspiracy theories and rebellion.
Maybe this is normal now, Tag thought.
The conversation dwindled as the crew finished their meals. A few of them nursed drinks, enjoying a few moments when they could pretend the entire SRE wasn’t about to crumble. But as the jokes became memories and the smiles flattened, Tag knew it was time to address the task at hand.
His hand instinctively reached for the data cube in his pocket. Doran had given it to him shortly before they had taken off. It contained the virtual credentials that should pave the way with the local government on Orthod and allow them to explore the planet without raising too many suspicions.
“As soon as we hit Orthod, we’re going to be in the spotlight. Every move we make will be scrutinized. I didn’t have time to flesh out the details of the plan with Admiral Doran, but we need to understand our roles on this mission.”
He took a breath before continuing. “It will be an uphill battle to gain these people’s trust while looking for intel. I need your A-game.” One by one, he reviewed their roles. The marines had the most straightforward mission. They would be security detail, but Tag also hoped they could ingratiate themselves with the marines deployed on Orthod. If they were lucky, they might sniff out recruitment efforts among the troops. Coren was to be an anthropologist studying humans, and Sofia was to play his SRE counterpart. Doran had suggested Alpha act as a prototype SRE technology. She would volunteer to serve in the colony’s medical clinic.
Rebel World (The Eternal Frontier Book 4) Page 10