Rebel World (The Eternal Frontier Book 4)

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Rebel World (The Eternal Frontier Book 4) Page 18

by Anthony J Melchiorri


  “Welcome,” Munmu said, its voice slightly distorted by the water. “Please follow me.”

  Munmu’s body squirmed like the tail of a crocodile, propelling itself at a speed that would make even the most genetically enhanced Olympian swimmer jealous. Tag only kept up thanks to his suit’s jet propulsion system. They wound through the spires of the buildings, passing an open-water market and what appeared to be restaurants. The red eyes of the Imoogi all followed Tag and his crew as they jetted through what seemed to pass for streets in their strange, underwater city.

  Under the shadow of one building, Tag thought he saw an Imoogi with the same ghastly red maw as those he had seen at the colony. The red-lipped Imoogi retreated back into the dark, watching Tag pass by.

  Munmu never slowed. It led Tag’s crew at blindingly fast speeds. Soon they swerved upward and into one of the city’s central buildings. Munmu led them into a bulbous, saucer-shaped portion of the building. There they exited the water through a moon pool.

  Munmu left a trail of dripping water as he strode toward a pair of doors. “You may take your helmets off,” he said. “We have prepared the chamber to be more suitable for humans.”

  Tag glanced at his helmet’s heads-up-display. The atmosphere certainly seemed amenable, and he risked taking off his helmet. He held it by his side, breathing in the salty air.

  “Is that better?” Munmu asked.

  “It is appreciated,” Tag said. The others joined them, climbing out of the water and removing their helmets, and Munmu led them to another chamber.

  Several Imoogi sat atop their curled tails, situated on pillows arranged in a semicircle. When Tag entered, they went silent. Munmu sat on the central pillow. It gestured for Tag and his group to arrange themselves in the remaining seats. The marines stood in the back of the room with their weapons cradled across their chests. Tag searched the room but saw no evidence of Imoogi guards. Either these people trusted him or they had other defensive measures that remained unseen. Judging by their encounter with the drillfish, he tended to think the latter was true.

  “Chancellor Munmu has informed us why you are here,” one of the Imoogi said. “I am Chancellor Cintamani, the prime minister of our people.”

  Another Imoogi with gray scars covering its body raised an arm cut off at its elbow. “I am Chancellor Sinmun, justice enforcer of the Imoogi.”

  The others introduced themselves and their various roles, ranging from economic overseers to technological development secretaries.

  “Is it common for so many leaders of Imoogi society to greet a visitor like this?” Tag asked.

  “It is when it concerns such an important matter,” Cintamani said. It gestured to the other Chancellors. “The treaty with the humans affects all of us. Please, tell us your story and explain why you violated our waters.”

  Tag relayed their recent experiences from the attack on Orthod to chasing the Imoogi vessel into the depths of the ocean, then being obstructed by the drillfish.

  “Can you describe these Imoogi who took your humans?” Sinmun asked.

  There was one trait that stood out in Tag’s mind. “They had red stains around their mouths,” he said. “Like blood.”

  “Are you certain it was blood?” Sinmun asked.

  “I suppose I can’t say with one hundred percent confidence, but it seemed like blood. Like maybe they had bitten the colonists or—”

  Sinmun shook its head. “Bitten them? An Imoogi that fights with its mouth? Preposterous!”

  Cintamani erupted into laughter. “How disgusting! No, no, no that can’t be true.”

  “I know what I saw,” Tag said, trying to keep his voice measured and calm.

  Munmu leaned forward on its tail, scratching at its chest with three of its arms. It blinked. “You are certain?”

  “I am absolutely certain. All the Imoogi I saw had crimson stains around their mouths. In fact, on our way here, I saw one that looked just like them in the city.”

  Murmurs broke out between the chancellors. They conferred among themselves, and Tag shared a confused glance with Sofia. Finally the Imoogi fell quiet, their attention turned back to Tag.

  Sinmun uncurled, rising to its full height. It slithered toward Tag. “If what you have said is true, then, my friend, we have much to discuss.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Sinmun and Munmu took Tag and his crew to a squat, almost cave-like building that stood far below the soaring spires of the city. Rocky passages lined with barred windows wound through the building, patrolled by Imoogi carrying rodlike weapons. As they swam down a corridor, Tag slowed to peer through one of the windows. A pair of dull red eyes stared back. The Imoogi’s head twitched, its red-daubed mouth clamping and unclamping. It looked as though the Imoogi had just taken a fresh bite out of an animal. It let out a shrill shriek that was thankfully dulled by Tag’s helmet. One of the guards winced, and Sinmun growled. They continued on, passing by more and more rooms filled with more Imoogi who had the same crimson-stained faces. Their eyes looked dull compared to the Imoogi outside. Some thrashed about or swam in lazy circles; other floated, listless and glum, staring at some point only they could see.

  “Is this a prison?” Tag asked through his comms.

  “No,” Sinmun said. “It’s a clinic.”

  “A clinic?” Sofia asked. A sparkle of recognition showed in the anthropologist’s eyes. “They seem a bit crazed. Like they’re on something. Are they... are they addicts?”

  “I’m afraid that’s correct,” Sinmun said. “While crime is something we have always dealt with, it has never been as bad as it has been recently. We have discovered the cause, but try as we might, we have not been able to stop it.”

  They reached a larger chamber at the end of the corridor, and their Imoogi guides ushered Tag and his crew inside. Munmu swam to a storage container along one wall. It unfastened the lid and pulled out a clump of something red and jelly-like. “This is beedle-gee. It’s a plant that grows wild around the reefs near the water’s surface.” He rolled it between his fingers before setting it back into the container. “I’m told that its energizing effect is similar to human stimulants such as methamphetamines.”

  “And it’s addicting?” Tag asked.

  “No,” Sinmun said. “At least it isn’t normally. It used to be customary for Imoogi to have a ball of beedle-gee in the morning. It is a good way to wake up. Those who use it extensively, maybe chewing three to four a day, develop the red stains on their teeth and lips that you saw in those patients in our clinic.”

  Bubbles streamed from Munmu’s nostrils as if it was sighing. “Someone has been lacing batches of beedle-gee. We call the substance stimmadd. It appears to have a biochemical effect that both enhances the effectiveness of beedle-gee and makes it highly addictive.”

  Sinmun swam around the back of the chamber. “That is not the only effect. It is also neurodegenerative. The longer one is addicted to it, the more one’s brain rots away.”

  “For the gods’ sake,” Tag said. “That sounds terrible.”

  “Yes,” Sinmun said. “We’ve outlawed beedle-gee altogether until we can pinpoint who or what is behind this. But still, the beedle-gee with stimmadd seems to be pouring into our cities. I have tried, with the rest of my enforcers, to track the source down. We have searched our oceans and even the land. Our researchers are working overtime. But we have found nothing.”

  “I admit,” Munmu said, “we have had our suspicions about the humans, and we have spied around the human colony on Orthod despite our treaty.”

  “I don’t understand why this addiction would drive a group of Imoogi to abduct those colonists,” Tag said.

  “I’m afraid we don’t know, either,” Munmu said.

  “Damn,” Tag said. “How many Imoogi cities are there?”

  Munmu and Sinmun looked at each other. Their tongues flicked over their nostrils. It seemed to Tag like this was the Imoogi version of a shrug.

  “I would have to consult ou
r latest census polls,” Munmu said, “but I would estimate there are three thousand cities. That isn’t counting the thousands of smaller towns and other little hamlets where the more rural Imoogi choose to live.”

  “Gods,” Sofia said. “So the chance of us finding the captive colonists...”

  “They are very slim,” Sinmun said. “For that, I am sorry. Certainly I will let my fellow justice enforcers know. There will be a worldwide alert.”

  Tag appreciated the gesture, but he had seen Orthod from space. It was covered in more water than Earth—and Earth’s surface was almost three-quarters water. If those Imoogi wanted to disappear with their captives, they could.

  “Thank you for explaining what has happened down here, and I apologize for the confusion,” Tag said, slipping into his role as a diplomat.

  “As do we,” Munmu said. “If there is anything I can do for you, I would be pleased to help.”

  “There is, actually,” Tag said. Maybe this adventure wouldn’t be completely fruitless. “But it’s something unrelated to our missing people.”

  “What would that be?”

  “Have you noticed anything else unusual as you’ve searched the surface? Any other humans—or for that matter other races—behaving strangely or secretively?”

  Munmu scratched at its belly for a moment, blinking several times. “We don’t monitor surface activity on the planet. It isn’t a priority of ours, and our people much prefer the water.”

  “So there’s been nothing odd recently? What about anytime over the past few years?”

  Again, Munmu’s forked tongue swept over its nostrils. “The human ruler, the one they call Maxine, governs her people well. But the other ones gave us some trouble several years ago.”

  “Other humans?” Tag asked.

  “We made contact with them first. They never gave us names, but they tried to establish some underwater facilities near their land-based ones. We made a treaty that prevented them from venturing too much further into the water—very similar to our treaty with the Principality.”

  “Oh?” Tag said, waiting for Munmu to continue.

  “They disobeyed it, though, so we were forced to retaliate,” Munmu said. “They reduced their activities, and we never bothered with them again.”

  “You don’t have the name of these people or their companies or colony or anything like that?” Tag asked.

  “No,” Munmu said. “They were quite adamant about remaining anonymous.”

  “Damn,” Sofia said. “Just when I thought we were close to something.”

  Having reached a dead end in both his investigations, Tag wanted to make his way back to the Principality. He needed to return to his primary mission. He had spent enough time down here.

  “Are we free to leave?” Tag asked.

  “Of course,” Munmu said. “We will hail you if we discover your missing people.”

  “Good,” Tag said. “Do you by chance have some extra tainted beedle-gee?”

  The translucent membranes passed over Munmu’s eyes several times. “You... you want these drugs?”

  “I’m not going to try them. I want to help research the added compound,” Tag said, thinking of Hannah. Her lab would be perfectly suited to analyzing the source of the stimmadd, given her already extensive catalogue of the planet’s flora and fauna. “Maybe we can help.”

  “That would be most appreciated,” Sinmun said. It gave Tag a container of samples, which he passed to Alpha for safekeeping. “We wish you the luck of calm waters.”

  “Thank you,” Tag said. “And, uh, you, too.”

  As Munmu escorted them back to the Argo, it insisted several times that they stay for a traditional Imoogi meal. Tag was curious enough to consider it, but he had wasted enough time on this underwater field trip. True to their word, the Imoogi’s defenses did not target his ship on the return trip. The uneventful ascent gave Tag plenty of time to think. What had they gained today? Knowledge of a drug epidemic. No more leads on the Burtons’ mysterious benefactors than they had before. And they’d lost a handful of colonists, including the settlement’s medical doctors.

  Once again, Tag found himself faced with more questions than answers. As the Argo swooped over the mottled brown-and-green landscape toward the Principality, a new weight seemed to settle over his shoulders.

  Now he had to face Burton and tell her that they had failed to save her people.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  The Argo landed with little fanfare outside the Principality. From the sky, Tag could see that the 3-D fabricators were already working on a second layer of defenses beyond the original wall. But after what Tag had seen of the Imoogi, he doubted those polymer walls would stand up to a group of crazed beedle-gee addicts.

  As the crew assembled at the cargo bay door, Tag toyed with the pulse pistol he’d stowed in his holster. With tensions high between the colonists and marines, he could no longer risk going around unarmed. Not after the Imoogi strike. The situation was like a drought-ridden forest awaiting a stray spark. If it wasn’t already aflame, it would be soon—and Tag didn’t want himself or his crew to be caught in the fire, whether literal or metaphorical.

  “Alpha, I want you to head back to the clinic. Without the Fosters, they’ll need your help,” Tag said. “Gorenado, Lonestar, protect her.”

  “We’ll keep her safe, Captain,” Gorenado said, clapping Alpha’s shoulder.

  “And I’ll keep ol’ Gore safe,” Lonestar said. “A little civilian unruliness and unrest? Ain’t my first rodeo.”

  “Somehow I knew you’d say that,” Tag said as he watched them take off. “Coren, Sofia, do your anthropological thing. If people are emotional, maybe they’ll be speaking a little more freely. You might as well use this as an opportunity to see what you can find.”

  “On it, Skip,” Sofia said

  Coren nodded. “I had expected you all to display slightly more sympathy for these colonists, especially when struck by tragedy.”

  “There’s going to be quite a bit more tragedy if we don’t track down the collaborators on Orthod,” Tag said. “We need any break we can get.”

  “Logical,” Coren said. “I approve.”

  “I live for your approval,” Tag said, as the duo trudged down the ramp and toward the Principality.

  “Bull, Sumo, ready?” Tag asked.

  “We got your back,” Bull said.

  There was a growling bark from atop one of the cargo crates. Lucky stood there, staring down at them.

  “Sorry, but I think it might be safer for you to stay back,” Tag said. “Already got enough hands in the field. Why don’t you guard the home front?”

  Whether Lucky understood him or not, she certainly seemed to get it when he and the marines shooed her away from the hatch as they left. A warm breeze blew over the rolling plain, tickling the grass and bringing with it the brackish, sulfurous air Tag still hadn’t grown used to. Voices carried from the village, reaching them on the wind. There was no mistaking the angry tenor of an argument, and Tag’s dread grew heavier.

  “This keeps getting harder, doesn’t it?” Sumo asked.

  “It does,” Tag said.

  “You ever think that maybe we’re barking up the wrong tree here? What if these people don’t know anything about the big blue-skinned psychos?”

  Yeah, all the time, Tag thought. “Maybe. But if Starinski Labs is running some kind of recruitment operation here, it might be the lead that will help us unravel this whole mess. So it’s worth it just to prove our suspicions wrong, at least.”

  “Yeah,” Bull said. “If you can smell shit, there’s a pile of it somewhere. And ever since we got down here—hells, ever since the Montenegro—I’ve been smelling a lot of manure.”

  “You sure that’s not just you?” Sumo asked.

  As they neared the Principality, an air car hovered out of one of the freshly built gates. It kicked up a wake of dust clouds. Tag watched it, wondering where the colonists were going. Then the car swerved
toward them and slowed to a smooth stop a foot from Tag’s feet. He recognized the driver immediately.

  “Hannah,” he said. “Are you trying to run me over?”

  “I was about to go collect some samples. Get out of the Principality for a while. The town’s a mess,” she said, getting out of the car. “Thought I’d warn you.”

  “Thanks,” he said.

  “Did you find them?”

  Tag’s eyes found the ground. “No, unfortunately. The Imoogi who took the colonists escaped.”

  “Damn,” Hannah said. “Cho and his people aren’t doing anything about it. I half-expected an attack against the marine base with all the rage pent up inside those walls now.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of,” Tag said. “I ran into the Imoogi.”

  “Oh?” Hannah’s eyebrows rose high on her forehead.

  “Not the ones who took the colonists,” Tag said. “But we met their leaders.”

  Hannah stepped closer to Tag, crushing a small steam vent under her boot. “No shit. What were they like? What happened?”

  “Long story. I’ll tell you over a drink later. In the meantime, I need a favor,” Tag said.

  “Sure thing.”

  “Ever heard of beedle-gee?”

  She cocked her head, looking nonplussed. “Come again?”

  Tag handed her one of the samples. The red jelly glowed under the sunlight. “I was wondering if your lab could compare the chemical constituents of this with the data you have on Orthod. The Imoogi want to figure out where this stuff is coming from.”

  “Interesting. What is this?”

  “Some kind of drug,” Tag said. “Apparently it’s making its way through the undersea population. The Imoogi that took the colonists were on it. If you’re okay with it, I’ll drop it off with your lab assistants.”

  “No, no, that’s okay. I can do it.”

  “You’re headed out,” Tag said. “Really, I’d like to get a move on this, so I can drop it off when we get into town.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Hannah insisted. “I’ll head back now. Sample collection can wait. You want a ride?”

 

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