Alabaster Noon

by Chris Kennedy

  The Izlians and Bakulu squadrons were at the forefront of the fleet. Just behind them, the bulk of the dreadnought, New Era, eclipsed the starscape. Elizabeth shuddered at the site of it. Hundreds of damaged points were visible, even from hundreds of kilometers away, and still it was strong enough to fight.

  She examined the merc cruiser formation and nodded to herself. Only twelve merc units remained or were going with them to Earth. They were crowded onto the six Hussars transports and three of their own cruisers. Revenge was in the formation, repaired and ready for action. She caught her gaze straying to the ship several times and tried not to think about their mission. It was too crazy to consider real.

  “Everything looks good on the modifications,” Evie told her, floating nearby. “We’ll just have to see how they work when the time comes.”

  Elizabeth glanced at her and nodded, then looked down and caught sight of her own rank insignia. The eagle made her scowl. Find her, she sent to Nigel Shirazi. I don’t like the weight of these fucking things. Fifteen minutes later, the fleet began passing through the stargate. Just before Shadowfax touched the event horizon, she again thought about Patrick, or whatever he was now. She didn’t know what to think about him, and, right then, she didn’t have time.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Twenty-One

  São José dos Campos, Brazil, Earth

  Good and Enkh spun around. Neither had heard anyone enter the building, and none of their sensors had indicated anyone was even nearby. Good’s hand instinctively went for his pistol, before his rational mind kicked in. If the Depik sitting on his desk had wanted him dead, his body would already be cooling. He carefully removed his hand from the pistol and the alien slow-blinked at him.

  “I greet you, Hunter,” he choked out, although every fiber of his body yelled, Flee!

  “I am Tsan, Dama of Whispering Fear Clan,” the Depik replied, slow-blinking again. “Welcome to our negotiation.”

  “What…who is that?” Enkh asked. Her hand still rested on the handle of her pistol.

  “That is a Depik,” Good said, “and if she wanted us dead, we would already be dead. You can take your hand away from your weapon. I do not believe she is here for us.” He turned back to the alien. “At least it would not appear that way.”

  “You are safe, at least for the moment,” Tsan said, flicking her tail. “Although you may not know it, your contract was bought out.”

  “That is good news, certainly,” Good said, although he was far from relaxed in the company of an assassin, whose race had tried to kill him once before. “Can I ask how this happened?”

  “Our last Governor, Cahli, chose to allow your Sansar Enkh to buy it out, and she did. As such, you are safe. As I said, I am not here for you; I am here for the murderer of my race, Peepo. Cahli swore Peepo would bleed, and I am here to see that she does.”

  Good nodded. “In that case, our goals are allied. I would like nothing more than to kill her. We thought we had her, but she proved more elusive than we thought and killed many of my people. My corporal and I are now looking for other options to fulfill that task.” He paused as what Tsan had said finally dawned on him. “Wait. The murderer of your race?”

  The Depik’s furred fluffed out, and Good could see her tense. He carefully kept his hand away from his weapon, praying he hadn’t brought about his own doom by asking the question. After a couple of seconds, though, her fur flattened, and she preened herself for a moment in an obvious attempt to regain control of herself. He remained silent, willing to give her all the time she needed if it allowed him to continue breathing a little longer.

  “Hunters don’t have enemies,” Tsan finally said. “We have prey, and one does not hate prey; we just kill them and move on. But for that Veetanho—and Veetanho in general—I am willing to make an exception. Peepo tried to enslave our race; the Depik chose mass suicide instead.”

  “I don’t understand,” Good said. “How did Peepo think she could compel your obedience?”

  “She had some kind of ray that froze us.” She shuddered. “When it was turned on us, our muscles locked up, and we were unable to move or act. We were powerless.” She shuddered again. “It is an awful thing, to be held against your will.”

  “Kind of like what Earth is going through now,” Enkh noted.

  Tsan nodded. “Peepo and her race have enslaved many other races, but we refused to allow her to enslave us. It is my goal to make sure she is unable to enslave anyone else.”

  “How do you intend to do that?” Good asked.

  Tsan slow-blinked. “It will be difficult for her to enslave anyone if she is dead.” She preened her tail for a moment, then added, “It may be possible for my race to still survive; there are efforts proceeding to ensure our survival. I am here to ensure those efforts have the opportunity to be successful.”

  “But if the Veetanho have the ability to freeze you, how are you going to get into the Merc Guild’s headquarters?” Enkh asked.

  “You said it earlier,” Tsan replied, her gaze going to Good, “our goals are allied, and I would propose an alliance of our efforts, as well.”

  “You need help,” Good said with a nod.

  “I do not need help,” Tsan said. She paused and then added, “It is just, for once in my life, I find myself needing…support.”

  * * *

  Merc Guild Detention Facility, Ubatuba, Brazil, Earth

  Jim was waiting as his evening meal arrived. The man wore the Varangian Guard uniform and gave Jim a distasteful look as he handed the prisoner a plate.

  “Thanks,” Jim said. The man snorted something Slavic, likely a curse, and left. Jim gave a little laugh and took the meal inside. He’d gone through his memory upon waking up and, to his best guess, it was more than a week since the disastrous battle for Earth. The survivors were probably back on New Warsaw, waiting for the coming invasion, or worse.

  He sat and listened to Metallica as he ate. The music was a big part of why he was feeling better. Jim was positive whoever monitored the cameras in his room would be confused as to why the prisoner in his disgusting dank cell was in the best mood he’d been in for some time.

  In the quiet dark stretches of time, Jim spent a great deal of time trying to get into the other functions of his pinplants. He had yet to have any success but refused to stop trying. The effort kept him from obsessing on the why of it. His former girlfriend, who’d been spying on the Cavaliers for the world government, had given him a targeted nanite treatment which removed part of the lock on his pinplants. It made zero sense.

  As he chewed the tasteless bread, taking a bite of the bland fish with each bite, he probed every area of the pinplant’s mental access menus. His plants were advanced compared to most. Well, not compared to Sansar Enkh who had three sets; Jim’s two sets were way beyond what most other people got, though. He didn’t think the Human brain could handle four. He’d used his for everything from storing data and analyzing company reports to helping interface with his Raknar.

  Jim jerked in surprise. At the thought of his Raknar a new menu had appeared in his pinplant access area. He dropped one of the pieces of bread and didn’t even notice as he looked around, stupidly afraid someone was watching. Who could be watching my thoughts, he chided himself, and hit the menu selection.

  “Option Currently Unavailable”

  Damn it, he thought. There was a help feature to the menu, so he selected it.

  “I open at the close.”

  Jim sat back and ran a hand across his mouth, scattering crumbs as he thought. The line was unmistakable, as was the fact that Adayn knew the line. They’d sat together and watched that old 2D movie at least twice, maybe three times. The menu help message could have several meanings, most of them ominous.

  Why, he kept asking himself? Why would she help me?

  He was surprised when the door opened again to reveal General Peepo. He hadn’t seen her since shortly after his capture. She was smiling until she saw him, then her grin turn
ed to a bit of a scowl. Jim guessed she’d expected to find him upset by her arrival, which begged the question if they’d been spying on him or not.

  “Colonel Cartwright,” Peepo said, quickly recovering.

  “General Peepo,” he replied. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” He set his mostly finished meal on the filthy floor.

  Peepo again looked slightly confused. Only somebody who had familiarity with the Veetanho would notice, and it was gone in a split second. “I wanted to commend you on your ability to withstand questioning.”

  “Is that what your pet monsters have been doing, questioning? The Varangian Guard are everything you’d value in humanity—no self-respect and a complete lack of compassion for their fellow man.”

  “Compassion for their fellow man,” she repeated and walked into the room, moving closer to him.

  He wasn’t restrained anymore. She weighed maybe 40 kilograms to his 150. If he could get his hands on her for just a few seconds… Jim saw movement on the other side of the door. It was too dark to see who or what was there. He relaxed as she spoke again.

  “If your race could learn what it means to serve a greater good, you might understand the irony of your statement.”

  “We believe our freedom is part of the greater good.”

  “You have no idea what’s out there,” she said.

  “Why don’t you tell me?”

  Peepo stared into his eyes, searching, thinking. She seemed to be considering. Jim had no choice but to acknowledge she was one of the smartest beings he’d ever met, if not the smartest. For the first time he wondered at her motivations in the war, really wondered. Were his fellow Humans really such a huge problem that she’d mount a war costing millions, or even billions, of credits to enslave them?

  “No,” she said. “What I came here to tell you was that despite your stubbornness, my techs have managed to secure the Raknar for transport.”

  It was Jim’s turn to pause slightly. “Makes no difference, you’ll never understand how to operate them.”

  “After wringing your fellow Raknar operators dry, I agree. Only you seem to have that information.”

  “And I’ll die before I give it to you,” Jim said.

  “Willingly, this is true.” Peepo smiled. “Regretfully, I don’t have the means to get it from you here. However, in the Betall system, I have a Wrogul standing by. It will gladly wring the information from your brain, whether you want me to or not.”

  “Wrogul,” Jim repeated, his confidence gone in an instant.

  “Yes, Colonel Cartwright. The Raknar are difficult to handle in the damnable condition you left them, so it will take some time. But in a week at the most, we’ll be bundling you and your fellows off to Betall where I’ll get my answers.”

  * * *

  São José dos Campos, Brazil, Earth

  Good smiled. “Support then,” he said with a nod. “I would be happy to give you our support in your mission, if you could give us your support as well. There are a number of things which we need to do, many of which would be far easier—and safer—if you were to do them than if either the corporal or I were to do so. Peepo has shown herself to be quite…inhospitable… to the mercs remaining on Earth. She captured our last operative in Europe, a man working with Taranto S.L.R., and he wasn’t seen again.

  “We have great capabilities—like the Raknar the Cavaliers use, but we need to get hold of the Fae and break out the Raknar operators from where they’re being held.”

  Tsan drew up and cocked her head. “I’m afraid you will have to start at the beginning, Human, as I am unaware of what either Fae or Raknar are.”

  Good explained the situation to the Depik, who appeared to listen intently.

  “I do not understand how these Fae—or even the Raknar will help us,” Tsan said once he finished. “They seem to be blunt instruments—giant hammers, perhaps—that inflict great amounts of damage indiscriminately. They are not instruments of stealth. They would be good for destroying the Merc Guild headquarters, but I don’t see how they would be of any use getting us into it. I will be the one to bleed Peepo, not some giant mecha which will kill her by knocking down the roof on her.”

  “I understand,” Good said, realizing his error. “While they might not be helpful to you in your immediate mission, recovering the Raknar operators will help us afterward.”

  “I am not sure what use that is, either.” Tsan jumped down to the floor and stalked the room, looking annoyed. “Even if you had the Raknar, complete with their Human and Fae crews, what good would that do you? You would be no better off than the first time they surrendered. They could be surrounded again, or even destroyed, and to what end? They may devastate more of this country, but in the end, what good does that do?”

  “Well, uh—” Good realized the Depik had a point. He’d been more focused on recovering the men than doing his job and thinking about a long-term plan. He finally shrugged. “I guess I thought that once I recovered our personnel, Colonel Cartwright would know what we needed to do next. At a very minimum, we need to get the captured mercs away from the ‘tender mercies’ of the Merc Guild. I’ve heard about what being locked up in a Merc Guild prison is like.”

  “Yes, I heard about what they wanted to do with your Sansar,” Tsan said, flicking her tail. “I suppose they will have their show trials for Colonel Cartwright and his troops soon, too.”

  “Show trials?” Good asked. He raised an eyebrow at Enkh, who shook her head.

  “I haven’t heard anything about a trial for Colonel Cartwright,” she said. “In fact, they never even issued a statement that they had captured him.”

  “And now that I think of it,” Good said, “that worries me a lot. If they aren’t planning a trial, that means that they’re probably planning on getting rid of them once they’ve extracted whatever info they’re trying to get out of them. That could be any day now. We need to get them out of there, ASAP.”

  “What we need to do is kill Peepo,” Tsan said. Good noticed her tail had fluffed out, and she was pacing faster again, which was decidedly not a good thing. “Anything that doesn’t help us accomplish this is irrelevant. If rescuing your people ties into killing Peepo, then I will support it. Otherwise, it isn’t worthy of discussion.”

  “Rescuing our mercs isn’t entirely irrelevant,” Corporal Enkh said. “The Raknar pilots are being held at the Merc Guild Headquarters, and we believe Peepo is in the headquarters as well. Perhaps if we were to contact the Cavaliers soldiers and use them to break the Raknar pilots out of jail, this would give you the diversion you needed to slip in and kill Peepo.”

  Tsan stopped pacing, sat, and slow-blinked at Enkh. “This plan has more promise.” She slow-blinked again. “I only need a few minutes with her. I would like a few hours…days even…to truly show her my displeasure, but five minutes will be enough.”

  Good smiled at Enkh, happy she had calmed the Depik somewhat. No one wanted to be in close proximity to an unhappy killer. “I agree,” he said. “In addition, the Fae have shown themselves to be very handy as far as technology goes. It would be good if we could bring them in and incorporate their skills as well. I’m sure they would be very interested in breaking the Raknar pilots out of jail.”

  Tsan flicked her tail. “If they can be of use, then that would be acceptable. I also have someone else who may be of assistance.”

  “Who is that?” Good asked.

  Tsan walked to the back door and opened it, and a young black girl walked in. Good blinked in surprise. The girl looked like she was in her mid-teens but was on the thin side and appeared shy. Her eyes never left the floor. If there was a “look” that Good had been expecting, the girl’s appearance was about as far from it as was possible.

  “This is Sunshine,” Tsan said.

  “You’re kidding, right?” Good said. “How is a little girl going to help us? Perhaps you don’t know very much about our race, Tsan, but she is nothing more than one of your cubs.”

&nbs
p; Tsan slow-blinked. “I know enough to know that, in general, Humans are often more than they seem. I think you will find the same to be true with Sunshine.” She waved a claw at the girl. “Please introduce yourselves.”

  “Hi, Sunshine,” Enkh said. “I’m Corporal Bolormaa Enkh.”

  “And I’m Major Good,” the officer said, still sounding put-out.

  The girl chuckled.

  “What?” Good asked with an exasperated tone.

  The girl looked up with fire in her eyes. “I think it is funny that you dismiss me so easily, while calling yourself, ‘very good.’ You don’t look much like a typical warrior, either—and I have known all sorts of soldiers and warlords, and yes, even some of the best warriors my continent ever produced. I fought alongside them in battle. Have you shot down a MinSha fighter? No? I have. Have you operated a CASPer in the defense of your country against a horde of alien mercenaries? No? I have. I’ve fought Tortantulas and Besquith, and I lived to talk about it. I’d like to see you do any of that, Mr. Very Good.”

  “Is this true?” Good asked.

  “I can’t confirm it’s true,” Tsan said, “as I wasn’t there for the fall of Monrovia, but she has told me about it, and I believe her. What I can confirm is that she walked nearly all the way across the Sahara Desert, by herself, in a CASPer that had been modified for her to operate. She understands very well how to operate a CASPer, and I am sure she would best you in hand-to-hand combat using them quite easily.”

  “You were at the fall of Monrovia?” Good asked. “That was…it was awful what the Merc Guild did there.”

  “Yes, I am a member of the Kakata Korps,” Sunshine said proudly. “We defended Monrovia, by ourselves, to the last person. Me.”

  “If everyone else was killed, I am not sure the Korps still exists. How is it that you made it out?”