“I should call the engineers to handle this,” Michaels muttered. “I’m a doctor, not a gunsmith.”
Ellie snickered. “I can do this part myself. Gimme.”
Michaels stepped out of the way.
Ellie got to work. Reapers used an ingenious design for quick reloads. A lucky thing, because she planned on doing it a lot. Her mini-rockets came in clips of a dozen munitions each; clips not magazines. She could store hundreds in each thigh, and she did so before filling the remaining space with drum magazines for her cannons. She closed the bays, and installed the rocket launchers in her arms. They were a modular design, and snapped easily into place. A pair of red rocket-shaped icons lit on her HUD. Michaels shifted uneasily when she loaded them.
“Relax. What do you think I’m going to do, blow up the castle?”
Michaels smiled sheepishly.
Both weapon icons turned green along with their ammo counters. She fed each launcher with three clips for a total of seventy-two high explosive rockets. With a thought, the launchers retracted into her arms, and the icons turned red. She tested their action a few times until satisfied they wouldn’t jam.
Ellie un-boxed and installed her mini-guns next. A pair of gun-shaped icons filled in the last blank spots on her HUD, and turned green as she loaded them. Each drum magazine held thousands of caseless tungsten-tipped needles. They were armour piercing, not frangible. Reaper mini-guns were beautiful tech. The tiny gatling cannons were so compact. So light. So deadly. She couldn’t wait to start shredding Merkiaari flesh with them.
Thinking of that made her itch.
Ellie activated a drone. It shot into the air at the far end of the firing lane. She aimed her right arm downrange, made a fist, and activated the weapon. The mini-gun popped up, barrels already starting to spin. At 3000rpm, they spat flame, and armour-piercing needles screamed downrange. A really good word for it. The needles screamed, ripping at the air and shredding the drone before it could dodge.
Michaels clapped his hands over his ears.
Ellie took no notice and let her body do what it knew how to do. Destruction was its prime directive. Its operating system knew this task well. All it needed was a target, and Ellie supplied that. Her target reticule sought out movement at the end of the lane. It danced over her HUD, not settling. Not satisfied. The moment another drone appeared, it locked on and the cannon spoke, spitting flame again.
“Major!”
Ellie ignored him, and raised her other fist. The gun popped up, and fired. More drones died. Many more. She was potting them almost before they launched. She grinned fiercely, the grin turned to a chuckle, the chuckle to a belly laugh as she sprayed destruction downrange. She lost herself in the joy and scream of destruction.
Her HUD blinked a low ammo warning, but she didn’t notice the audience at her back until she ran dry and stopped to reload. A crowd stood just inside the room, staring at her in horrified silence.
She reloaded and tried to ignore them.
Michaels lowered his hands. “I tried to warn you.”
Ellie wanted to shrug, but her body couldn’t do it. She nodded. At least she could still do that. Their fear was expected and understandable. She was a Reaper, an old story brought to life. A nightmare rather. They flinched when she looked at them. It was lucky they couldn’t see what she was seeing just then. Each of them was outlined in red, and their locations were locked into her targeting system. She was only a thought away from servicing those data entries. They were targets, and a mere thought away from eternity.
Shocked by that line of thought, she stowed her weapons and the target overlay vanished. She realised that at any moment, day or night, she was a micro-second away from a massacre. The ban on augmentation made perfect sense to her now. She shouldn’t exist.
Michaels broke the silence. “The king expects us for dinner. Get dressed. We can’t be late.”
Invoking the king dispersed the crowd, leaving Ellie alone to dress under Michaels’s hooded eyes. He knew what she’d been thinking there at the end. Somehow he knew how close she’d come. He helped her dress, but kept his peace.
Ellie shook off her uneasiness on the way to dinner. It wasn’t as if she’d done anything wrong. Everyone had dark thoughts now and then. Acting on them would be a different thing. She was fine. There was nothing wrong with her that killing a few million Merkiaari couldn’t fix.
HM William Windsor wasn’t alone when they were ushered into his presence. Ellie doubted he would ever have privacy again. Nicky had always complained of its lack whenever he visited his father at the palace. King Richard had been surrounded by flunkies of all kinds day and night. Those functionaries were long dead, but William wasn’t free. He couldn’t even have a quiet dinner with his dead brother’s lover without someone competing for his attention.
“Ellie,” William said, the worry slipping free of his features at the sight of her. “So good of you to come. It’s great to see you up and around again.”
His bodyguards tensed as William approached her. The big bad was in the room with their king. In their place Ellie would have done a lot worse. She didn’t blame them one bit. In fact, it worried her they’d allowed her into William’s presence. The Royal Guard wouldn’t have let her get near King Richard or Nicky, but although William’s bodyguards wore special forces insignia on their uniforms, they weren’t Royal Guard. She was the last of that elite force. By rights, she and not they should be protecting him.
William studied her new face.
Too close! Her bodyguard instincts screamed the warning silently in her mind. Ellie didn’t need a weapon. She could reach out and snap his neck. She was an armed Reaper in the presence of royalty, yet no one protested. They hadn’t even searched or disarmed her. That was so wrong. So careless of William’s life. She wanted to snatch him up, and take him to safety. Nicky’s brother. The last surviving Windsor. The last living part of her king.
William was suddenly outlined in green on her HUD, and everyone else in the room turned red. Without willing it, her targeting computer noted the room’s dimensions. It stored everyone’s coordinates relative to her position and the only exit. A numbered list of targets scrolled down the left side of her HUD. The first entry flashed in time with the red pulsing outline surrounding the bodyguard closest to William. A priority target.
William pumped Michaels’s hand. “Very well done, Doctor.”
Michaels mumbled something in reply.
Ellie forced herself not to move. The computer in her head was a tool. It offered advice and opportunity, but she was in control of her actions. Her decisions ruled the Reaper. The moment she understood it on an instinctual level, she relaxed, knowing nothing could happen without her consent. She would never do anything to risk Nicky’s brother. Her list of targets vanished and the tactical overlay dissolved.
William remained outlined in green, and Ellie slipped into old patterns of behaviour. She stood at ease, right hand gripping left wrist. Classic bodyguard posture. The other guards in the room noticed the subtle signs, and relaxed. Ellie wasn’t sure whether to feel flattered or angry. Neither, she decided. The Royal Guard didn’t do flattery or anger. It did calm watchfulness, followed by explosive mayhem at need. She could handle the watchfulness, and let her Reaper side handle the mayhem.
* * *
20 ~ High Table
Silver Bay, Duchy of Longthorpe, Faragut
The rest of William’s guests arrived shortly after Ellie did, and introductions were made. She’d seen Sir Harry before on his visits to the palace, but she’d been just one uniformed guard among many back then. He didn’t recognise her. No reason he should. Even Nicky wouldn’t recognise her now.
The general examined her critically, nodded briefly without speaking, and dismissed her to speak with Doctor Michaels. Sir Harry’s officers kept their distance, and took their lead from their CO.
Ellie didn’t like Sir Harry. She wanted to, but she didn’t like the way he’d spoken to William upon
entering his presence. He wasn’t discourteous, but it was obvious he didn’t respect William’s position as his king either. Ellie understood why, and it wasn’t an age thing. Sir Harry’s king would always be King Richard, just as Nicky was the king of Ellie’s heart. Reasons didn’t matter to her, and they certainly didn’t make it right. Sir Harry disappointed her, and that made her angry. She had so little left to believe in, and now there was one thing less.
“Sorry about him,” William said under his breath as they watched the ongoing interrogation. “He’s too good an officer to dismiss. Father always made allowances for his arrogance.”
“It’s fine,” Ellie said, but it wasn’t. She didn’t care how rude people were to her. It was his easy dismissal of William that concerned her. “You’re not your father, Sire. You’re king now.”
“I know, but it’s Sir Harry.”
“He serves the Crown at your pleasure. Make sure he knows it, Sire, or you’ll lose control of him.”
William frowned. “We need him.”
And that was the problem. Ellie didn’t believe Sir Harry was disloyal. He was simply arrogant and supremely confident in his own abilities. He wouldn’t listen to others because he felt their opinions were worth less than his own. The problem was, he was right. William had to keep control while somehow using the resource Sir Harry represented.
“Allow him to advise you, Sire, but in the end order him to carry out any plans he puts forward. Even if you accept his ideas verbatim, don’t let him take your permission for granted. Be commanding like your father was. Make sure Sir Harry knows who rules Faragut.”
William frowned.
Ellie focused her attention back upon Sir Harry.
“How many can you build?” Sir Harry was saying.
Michaels looked trapped. Ellie joined him to tower over the general, in an effort to lend some support.
“Major Hutton is a special case,” Michaels said. “I performed the work as a favour to His Majesty.”
“Quite right,” William said joining them. “And your king is grateful, Doctor.”
“I understand that,” Sir Harry said. “But that’s no reason not to produce more. They would be a great asset. A single battalion of Burgton’s vipers beat the Merki on behalf of the Shan. A few hundred Reapers might tip the balance in my favour.”
Vipers were more advanced, faster, and far more deadly than any Reaper. Burgton’s men had supported the Shan. They hadn’t fought alone, but Sir Harry’s point was well made. A battalion or three of vipers would be very welcome on Faragut.
“Do you have a few hundred men willing to be augmented?” Michaels said.
“Not exactly willing, but they’ll serve their world one way or the other.”
“I don’t follow.”
“Convicts, Doctor. They’ll be offered augmentation.”
“And if they refuse?”
Sir Harry smiled. “They won’t. They’ll volunteer or suffer mind wipe. One way or another they’ll serve our world. Fear not.”
Michaels paled. “Augmenting zombies? Are you insane?”
Zombies was a derisive term for the empty shells left behind after a mind-wipe session. Prior to re-education, recipients of mind-wipe were helpless husks. Raiders harvested colonies in the Border Zone and programmed zombies as slaves. They called them zeeks.
“They won’t be zombies after re-education. They’ll be patriots.”
“Patriots have a choice,” Michaels said stiffly. “Slaves do not. The suggestion is reprehensible and quite possibly a crime against Humanity.”
Ellie nodded. “I agree.”
Sir Harry glared up at her. “Who asked you? I don’t have the luxury of debating my decisions. While you’ve been recovering the Merkiaari have been wiping us out. Sacrifices must be made if any of us are to survive.”
“Easy to say when you’re not the one making them,” Michaels muttered.
“You think sending men to their deaths is easy? I have no choice you arrogant arse!”
“That’s quite enough, General,” William said, and Sir Harry jerked in surprise.
Ellie smiled tightly to hear the censure in his voice. She let it widen when Sir Harry inclined his head in a brief bow to his lord.
“Doctor Michaels is my guest,” William went on. “Let’s leave the war outside for one meal.”
Sir Harry bowed again. “As you say, Sire.”
Everyone took the pronouncement as an invitation to find places at table. William took his seat at the head, and to Sir Harry’s dismay indicated Ellie should take the nearest chair to his right. She did so, and reserved the place next to her for Michaels by seating him there herself. Her chair creaked under her weight, and she hesitated to relax, but it held. William smiled at the look of alarm on her face and she grimaced at him to acknowledge it.
“Putting on weight, Ellie?”
“Har-de-har,” she muttered and didn’t miss the looks being passed between Sir Harry’s officers at her familiarity with the king. “It’s all the ammo.”
Michaels snorted.
“Don’t you start.”
William laughed and the others seemed to feel they should join in, but it was a forced sound that quickly faded. Sir Harry sat opposite Ellie on the king’s left hand and studied her in silence as the meal was served.
Ellie’s first trial arrived when she tried to eat. She stared at the steak on her plate and frowned. It looked tasty, but when she tried to use the cutlery she didn’t have the dexterity. She nearly managed a couple of times, but in the end her knife and fork flipped out of her hands to clatter against the plate. She looked up to find William watching her struggle. She flushed as conversation faltered around the room.
Michaels came to her rescue again.
Still deep in conversation with a dark-haired mobile infantry captain, he reached across Ellie’s plate to snag her utensils. He quickly cut her food into bite-sized pieces and bent the handle of her fork into a U-shape. Still chatting away as if unaware of everyone watching, he put the fork in her left hand, and flattened the metal until it gripped two of her fingers.
He whispered. “Don’t let them see you flinch.”
Ellie kept her eyes down. She speared a cube of meat with her fork and ate it. It was perfectly cooked and delicious. She ate some more of it but didn’t attempt the wine. She knew her limitations. She could probably drink from the bottle but not from the delicate crystal glasses supplied.
The meal lasted for a little over an hour and ended with William asking a few people to remain behind. Ellie and Sir Harry were amongst them as well as the mobile infantry captain who Michaels had spoken with. The doctor wasn’t invited. He seemed eager to beat feet out of Sir Harry’s presence.
William put aside all pretence of normality. “Did your badgering of Doctor Michaels have a purpose, Sir Harry?”
“Yes, Sire. It did.”
“Explain.”
Sir Harry glanced at Ellie and hesitated.
“Speak up,” William said, making the general frown. “We wish Major Hutton to hear this. She has our trust.”
The use of the royal we was a deliberate provocation. Ellie kept her face bland, but inside she was gleeful. She’d heard the like many times from King Richard.
“I’ve polled all of our medics. None of them is willing to reproduce Doctor Michaels’s work.”
“You showed them the procedure?”
Sir Harry nodded.
“Procedure?” Ellie asked. “Is that why you filmed everything?”
“Partly,” William agreed. “We wanted to be in a position to reproduce your augmentations, but also present a legal defence at need.”
“The point is moot,” Sir Harry said testily. “They’ve all refused to aid us. The traitors.”
Ellie frowned. “Refusing to commit crime isn’t traitorous.”
“Refusing orders in time of war is!”
“Refusing lawful orders is,” Ellie corrected. “Breaking the AI Edict and the Bethany Con
vention isn’t just illegal. It’s unethical and punishable by mind-wipe.” She turned to the king. “I should not exist, Sire.”
William waived that away. “You’re here because I owed it to Nicholas. I promised Doctor Michaels a pardon and I stand by that. I could do the same for all the others.”
“I already made them that offer,” Sir Harry admitted. “They refused.”
Ellie was relieved to hear it.
“Well,” William said. “We’ll shelve your idea for now General, and move on.”
Sir Harry frowned, obviously wanting to argue, but Ellie was delighted. Creating zombies and turning them into Reapers wasn’t just illegal. It was evil. She was glad to learn the idea came from Sir Harry and not William. It reaffirmed her faith in him. He needed support and time to gain confidence in himself, especially when under pressure from men like Sir Harry. Ellie would help where she could.
Sir Harry reported on the current situation. It was immediately obvious to Ellie the Merkiaari were acting unlike the Merki of old. They were performing surgical strikes not herding people to destruction as they had in the past. They didn’t do that.
“They’re targeting infrastructure?” Ellie said in surprise.
Sir Harry frowned. “I wouldn’t go that far, but their priority is definitely weighted toward our war fighting ability.”
“Examples?”
“Shipyards, star ports, our industrial complexes. All of them have been hit repeatedly. They’ve bombed our cities too, but not to slaughter our citizens. They’ve struck my command and control centres. That plus their jamming has made communications a nightmare.”
“Our forces are using couriers to keep in touch,” William added. “The secessionists could have learned a thing or two from them.”
Sir Harry scowled.
“It sounds like it’s the other way round to me, Sire,” Ellie said. “The Merki are fighting fire with fire.”
“Exactly! They’re using our tactics against us,” Sir Harry said. “They’ve learned lessons from their last defeat and adapted. We need to do the same.”
Incursion: Merkiaari Wars Book 5 Page 15