Zero Magnitude (Galaxy Mavericks Book 3)

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Zero Magnitude (Galaxy Mavericks Book 3) Page 10

by Michael La Ronn


  Devi couldn't believe herself. She had never felt so strongly about anything before. It felt right.

  “I want to dedicate my life to justice,” Devi said.

  “And I don't doubt that you will,” Mary said. “I think you should go for it. I wasn't sure when you first mentioned it. Everything else you've done so far, you've been okay at it. Not good, not bad, but okay. But the more I hear you talk, the more I think you could do it. But the life of criminal justice is not what you see on TV.”

  “My life isn't what you see on TV, either,” Devi said.

  “Then it’s settled,” Mary said.

  Chapter 27

  The soldiers pushed Devika into one of the test tubes in the Specimen Room and tied her hands and feet to the metal walls inside. Miloschenko pressed a button, and the metal wall rumbled and oriented itself toward the windows.

  The wall was tall, and it stretched her ribs, creating mild discomfort. But she said nothing. She would not tell him anything, even in torture.

  “You have a big space to fill,” Miloschenko said. “You destroyed my super soldier. I should have never let him go.”

  Miloschenko paced in front of the tube.

  “Miss Sharma, I will give you one last chance, and please trust that I am a man of my word.”

  Silence.

  “Okay,” Miloschenko said. “But I’ll make my proposition, anyway: drop your investigation of the Zachary Empire and we will forget you even exist. You are crusading against something bigger than yourself, and you cannot comprehend the magnitude to which we will destroy everything you’ve ever held dear.”

  “Keep threatening me,” Devika said. “It won’t work.”

  “Yes, we know it won’t work on you,” Miloschenko said. “But what about Mary?”

  Devika struggled against the latches that held her to the wall.

  “There we go,” Miloschenko said. “Finally, a response. Sometimes I forget you’re even human. Talking to you is like talking to an asteroid. Men, give her some air.”

  Vents on the top of the tube opened and a rush of air blew down on her, blowing her hair in front of her face. The oxygen was cold.

  “Leave Mary out of this,” Devika said quietly.

  “Don’t want me to hurt Mommy?” Miloschenko asked.

  “If you touch her, I’ll—”

  “And don’t get me started on Rajinder Chaudury.”

  Devika stopped speaking.

  Rajinder.

  She hadn’t heard that name in years. Not outside of her memories. She didn’t even know that his last name was Chaudury.

  “I know all about your orphan rat days,” Miloschenko said. “Running around the streets, begging for food—down on Coppice, in the metro, yes? Miserable, absolutely miserable, Miss Sharma.”

  Devika spat at the tube. Saliva dripped down the glass.

  “You two still have a mental connection,” Miloschenko said. “Because, ironically, that is the same response he had when I told him your name.”

  “You’re lying,” Devika said.

  Miloschenko raised his hands and moved them as if he were conducting an orchestra. “Now that she got rescued and is famous, she forgot about me. Those were his words exactly.”

  “You’re lying,” Devika said again.

  “Did you think my Arguses had killed him?” Miloschenko said. “No. They kidnapped you and separated you. But that boy was a hard worker, just like you. You’ll be pleased to know that he’s still alive.”

  Devika shut down. She was showing too much emotion. She couldn’t let him see it. But God, she missed Rajinder. She would have given anything to see him again. She would have apologized for not being stronger that day in the forest. She would have told him how guilty she felt, how she carried it with her like an anchor on her back all these years.

  No, she had to stop thinking about him!

  “Do you want to see him?” Miloschenko asked.

  Devika looked away.

  “That’s good,” Miloschenko said. “Your heart wouldn’t be able to take it. It’s a grisly sight when you’ve lost an arm and a foot.”

  She refused to imagine Rajinder as anything less than the charming boy she knew from her childhood.

  Outside, hyperspace burned away.

  The ship turned and faced a planet.

  This one was Earthlike. Midnight blue with brown clouds surrounding it. It looked uninhabited.

  “You keep meddling in my affairs,” Miloschenko said. “You just want to know everything I’m up to. Well, now you’ve got a front row seat. And if this doesn’t make you reconsider my previous offer, then you’ve got a head condition.”

  He clapped his hands. The lights dimmed. The midnight hues of the planet were even brighter now.

  “Where’s Florian?” Miloschenko asked. “Tell him to get the hell in here.”

  A scientist ran out of the room in a hurry.

  An alarm sounded and something rumbled beneath the ship.

  “I want you to pay close attention to what’s about to happen,” Miloschenko said. “And let it serve as a warning to anyone at GALPOL that wants to screw with me.”

  Someone gasped. Miloschenko cocked his head at the planet, and then he ran to the glass.

  A large cruise ship shaped like a pistol was orbiting the planet.

  “What the hell!” Miloschenko said. “Who is that? Who gave them clearance to be here?”

  “It’s a planet for sale,” someone said. “Our scanners are showing approximately thirty people down on the surface. Probably a real estate showing.”

  Miloschenko cursed. Then he waved a hand at his scientists.

  “Release the Planet Eaters,” he said.

  Chapter 28

  The ship spat out a silver ball into space. It was as large as a corsair, glistened like a ball bearing, and spun like a marble over the planet’s atmosphere.

  Miloschenko and the scientists crowded at the window.

  Devika heard footsteps in the back of the room.

  Someone in white stood at the door with his arms folded. Three other men in white gathered behind him.

  “Disengage the camera,” Miloschenko said.

  A large gray canister drifted into space, orienting its lens toward the ball bearing.

  “Do we have a connection?” Miloschenko asked.

  “Positive, sir,” someone said.

  “Let's get the hell out of here, then.”

  A few moments later, the ship jumped into hyperspace, and the latches pulled at Devika’s hands and feet as the ship’s speed increased.

  “Give it five minutes,” Miloschenko said.

  They flew through hyperspace in silence for five minutes. The time crawled by and seemed like an eternity. Devika studied the scientists in the purple light of hyperspace; they were different ethnicities, men and women, all in the gray lab coats except for Miloschenko, who wore a suit.

  She tried to reconcile their faces with the database she had of known Zachary Empire trafficking offenders.

  None of the key players were here.

  These people were all new.

  In the quiet, someone’s whispering caught her ear.

  The man in white.

  His arms were folded. She couldn't make out his face in the shadows—just the white suit with a diagonal black stripe. He was staring at her, and then he pointed at her tube.

  She didn't like him. Her gut only took her a split second to make that decision.

  But he did not move. He stayed with his men, whispering.

  The ship slowed to a stop and crawled out of hyperspace. The vastness of space and stars returned. No planets in sight.

  “Do we have a connection?” Miloschenko asked again.

  Silence.

  “Answer the damn question!” Miloschenko shouted.

  The windows flickered as a digital video overlay appeared.

  Footage from the camera.

  The blue planet revolved on the window in ultra-high definition, as if they had
never left it.

  The silver ball spun down toward the edge of the planet’s atmosphere.

  “The live feed is active with a one-second delay,” someone said.

  “I'll take that,” Miloschenko said. He turned to Devika. “Don't blink.”

  Miloschenko gave a hand signal.

  “Let them out.”

  Chapter 29

  The silver ball stopped spinning.

  A door in the center of the ball opened.

  A liquid smoke, black as space, poured out, wisping over the planet like ink spreading through water.

  Specks of red appeared here and there in the darkness as it drifted down into the atmosphere.

  The ink spread, growing ever bigger, until it was the size of an entire continent.

  Devika couldn't comprehend the physics—she had never seen something so small expand so rapidly.

  “Aren't they extraordinary?” Miloschenko asked.

  The Planet Eaters continued to spread upon free fall into the atmosphere.

  “What are they?” Devika asked.

  “An alien race that feasts upon the living,” Miloschenko said. His eyes were frenzied, as if he had been waiting a long time for this moment. “Dark matter that disobeys the rules of science and everything we thought was true about this universe.”

  “How are you able to control them?” Devika asked. “How can you communicate with them?”

  “That's our secret,” Miloschenko said. “Do you accept my proposal now?”

  “Never,” Devika said, straining against the wall. But the latches held and dug into her skin.

  Miloschenko laughed. “You have more time to reconsider. Sit back and enjoy the feast, yes?”

  “Feast?” Devika said. “They're going to eat the planet?”

  The scientists laughed.

  “There are people down there!” Devika shouted.

  “Terrible timing on their part, huh?” Miloschenko asked.

  Devika growled.

  Innocent people were going to die.

  And there was nothing she could do.

  The Planet Eaters spread across the planet like a thunderstorm on a gas giant, swirling. Their red eyes flashed like lightning and they swallowed the calm, brown clouds.

  “They're seeing some great numbers on the observation deck,” a scientist said. “The planet density is slowly changing. We’re seeing slight temperature variations. They're blocking all direct sunlight.”

  “Excellent,” Miloschenko said. “Things are progressing as we expected.”

  “We’re seeing movement on the surface,” a female scientist said. “Looks like whoever’s down there just caught wind of what's coming.”

  “That will make things interesting,” Miloschenko said.

  “We've got several corsairs taking to the sky,” the female scientist said. “At this rate they'll never escape.”

  Devika winced.

  She couldn't watch.

  Footsteps sounded near the tube.

  The man in white stood next to it. The planetary light illuminated his face.

  He was staring out the window, eyes wide with wonder.

  He was eating something.

  Nuts.

  From a pile in his hand.

  He grinned, still chewing.

  “Now, this is one hell of a product demonstration,” Florian Macalestern said.

  Miloschenko grunted. “About time you understand the value we bring to this deal.”

  “So help me understand a little better,” Florian said, strolling toward the window where Miloschenko stood. “What exactly am I buying? Those aliens?”

  Buying?

  Devika didn't understand.

  “They're not for sale,” Miloschenko said. “Such a life form has no price. After all, we’re bound to GALPOL accords, so we cannot charge money directly for a living thing. The Arguses would have to take the money upfront, and I don't trust those goddamn pigs with their own hooves, much less an expensive sum of money.”

  “Ah,” Florian said, stopping at the window. “So I pay you to keep the aliens and you send them wherever I need them to go.”

  “Exactly. We would conduct future sieges from unmarked ships.”

  “Ah. So what I'm buying is fear.”

  Miloschenko nodded.

  “Fear,” Florian said, “of losing everything… Shape up or we’ll eat you… Mess with me or I'll have the Planet Eaters expel you in a bout of astral diarrhea…”

  The scientists stared at him, their mouths agape.

  Florian shrugged.

  “I guess that wouldn't translate so well into a slogan, so maybe we’ll keep the marketing strictly physical,” Florian said, shoving the last scraps of pecans into his mouth. He pulled a red handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his hands with it. Then he pulled out a small bottle of hand sanitizer, dousing his hands.

  “How much?” Florian asked.

  “Same price,” Miloschenko said. “Discount of five percent if you buy today.”

  “Screw your little dumbass discount,” Florian said. “You think I want to get out of bed in the morning over goddamned five percent?”

  “Seven,” Miloschenko said, “plus all the benefits of working with me. Direct access to the emperor.”

  Florian sighed. Then he pointed at Devika.

  “What do you think, little orphan Devi?”

  “Since when did my opinion matter?” Devika asked. She didn’t expect Florian to know her name. Or her past.

  Florian shrugged again.

  “Well, Tavin, you've got yourself a deal.”

  Florian extended his hand.

  Miloschenko puffed and took Florian’s hand.

  “You'll be happy with this,” Miloschenko said.

  “No doubt,” Florian said, glancing outside. He pulled Miloschenko close, whispering something in his ear.

  Then with his other hand, Florian jabbed upward into Miloschenko’s stomach. Devika saw a glint of steel just before impact.

  Miloschenko’s eyes widened as Florian jammed the knife into his gut and twisted.

  Florian ripped the knife out. Miloschenko toppled to the floor.

  The scientists screamed and scrambled.

  But coilshots rang out.

  One by one, the scientists fell.

  The men in white in the back of the room—they were shooting.

  Devika jumped as she heard coilshots from deep within the ship. In the airlock. In the Observation Skywalk.

  There were screams. Yells.

  Then everything went quiet.

  Florian stood over Miloschenko’s body. Blood dripped from the knife.

  “Thanks for the gift,” Florian said. “But the thing is, I don't actually have any money right now. My auntie wouldn't have approved of using corporate funds to pay for this.”

  Miloschenko coughed up blood. His body shook as he went into shock. He clutched a golden pendant in his hand, sputtering.

  “Let’s roll!” Florian shouted to his men. “We need to collect those damn things and make sure they don't escape.”

  The men in white suits threw the dead and dying scientists on the floor. Then they took control of the ship’s scientific systems.

  Outside, the Planet Eaters swarmed over the planet. Only bits of blue shone through. The entire planet was shrouded in darkness.

  Then something caught Devika’s eye.

  A stream of light in the middle of the darkness.

  A corsair.

  It was escaping. A tendril of Planet Eaters chased after it, billowing angrily.

  Devika silently cheered on the ship.

  The tendril turned into a claw as the ship sped out of the atmosphere.

  An explosion of purple erupted from the ship—the claw swiped but came up empty as the ship disappeared into hyperspace.

  “Rats,” Florian said, punching the window. “Rats! Can we chase that ship?”

  “Negative, boss,” one of the henchmen said. “This thing drives like a boat. We'd n
ever catch it in time.”

  Florian watched the purple stitch of light disappear.

  “Fine,” he said. “Stick with the plan.”

  The henchmen grabbed the bodies and began to pile them up. One man ran into the room with a dolly, and they stacked the bodies on it.

  “Regina Seven,” Florian said. “Dump them into the star and I don't want to freaking hear any excuses, you hear me?”

  “Yes, sir,” the men said at once.

  A henchman reached for Miloschenko’s legs, but Florian stopped him.

  “No. Tavin stays.”

  Then Florian kicked Miloschenko’s body several times. A golden flash fell from the dead man’s hand.

  The pendant.

  Florian puffed.

  And then the radio crackled.

  Everyone stopped.

  “Incoming distress signal,” the ship’s computer said.

  A female voice sounded from the speakers.

  “My name is Keltie Sheffield and I'm in danger. I was on the planet Kepler and I've been attacked by aliens. Please help me. I’m in a corsair at coordinates one point two nine five four three seven.”

  “Damn it!” Florian said.

  “Should we go after her?” a henchman asked.

  “No,” Florian said. “Every ship and military base within ten light-years will have heard it. We’ve got to get out of here.”

  He folded his arms.

  “Who do we have that can speak pig? Tell them to call our porkie in the short arm. Tell his team to wipe her out. If they do it, no one will trace it to us.”

  Devika imagined what Keltie Sheffield looked like. What she was feeling. She would have seen a lot of people die, and she would have been completely powerless.

  Whoever she was, she didn't deserve it.

  Florian’s face grew worried. He looked like a little kid who had done something wrong and was about to get caught.

  “Where’s the super soldier?” Florian asked.

  “Down on Coppice, still,” someone said.

  “I want him,” Florian said, staring out the window. “God, what I could do with a super soldier like that! Somebody keep an eye on him.”

  “What about his programming?” a henchman asked. “How would we reverse it?”

  Florian shrugged. “No idea. But I want him!”

 

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