Grendel Unit

by Bernard Schaffer

  "Of course," Vic said. "But we aren't going to."

  "Excuse me?" Clarke said angrily. He collected himself quickly, saying, "I assure you, the device is a highly valuable experimental particle analyzer. If it is not returned, it will mean the loss of countless years of scientific research. Surely you would not keep such a vital thing from us?"

  Vic turned to Frank and said, "What did Sergeant Buehl say that thing was called? A Sun Hammer?"

  "Sounds right," Frank nodded.

  "We cracked your weapon open, Admiral. I can tell you right now, if my bosses had any idea what we were carrying, they'd be very interested in it. Very interested in it, indeed."

  They watched the Admiral shift uncomfortably as he stood in front of them, a man who had been in a position of power so long that he no longer registered the sensation of being spoken to with anything other than due deference. He cleared his throat and his voice turned buttery, "Gentlemen, let us back up a moment. Only recently have we discovered one another's presence. You are our new neighbors, if you will. Imagine the future we could have, trading scientific findings and the cures for diseases that will change the face of both our civilizations."

  "Until you decide to use the Sun Hammer on us," Vic said.

  "We would never use it on our allies," the Admiral replied.

  Vic leaned forward and said, "In my line of work, sir, the difference between ally and enemy gets real, real blurry sometimes. I think it's safe to say that Unification would rather me destroy the weapon than turn it over to you folks."

  Clarke's jaw quivered with anger as he tried to control himself. "You realize we can just build it again, of course."

  "And so can we, now that we've analyzed the device," Vic said.

  Frank raised his hand like a preacher and said, "Amen to a new age of information sharing."

  "Enough of this nonsense. Where is the Sun Hammer?"

  "It's gone. We blew it up when we realized what it was."

  "Preposterous," Admiral Clarke sniffed. "You are a fool if you think you can keep a weapon like the Sun Hammer for your own personal use. It is a thing of evil and must not fall into the wrong hands!"

  "Well, we finally agree on something," Vic said. He turned toward Jessica King and said, "Are all the men on your side of the fence like this?"

  "Sorry?" she sputtered.

  "Do not speak to her, I am conducting these negotiations," Clarke snapped.

  Vic ignored him, looking down at the clock on his screen and then directly back at her, "By our estimate, we have just minutes left before the wormhole collapses. That gives you enough time to run for a shuttle and launch yourself through it over to our side."

  "And why would I do a thing like that?" she said.

  "Because you'll want to see what it's like over here. Believe me."

  "Stop harassing our officers! Surely even barbarians like you have protocols forbidding this kind of behavior!" Admiral Clarke shouted.

  "Tell me you don't want to and I'll stop," Vic said.

  "I can't," she said.

  "Sure you can."

  "I-I have duties here."

  "So? You're an adventurer not a deck hand, I can see it just by looking at you. You don't belong there, surrounded by these idiots. Come with me and I'll show you things you cannot believe."

  Captain Singh was staring at her. Her eyes met his and she realized there was real concern on his face. Concern that this man was speaking the truth and that she was considering it. "I can't. I'm sorry, Victor. The answer is no."

  "That's a damn shame," Vic said, sitting back in his chair. "I have a feeling about you. Maybe I just like the way you say my name."

  "This is outrageous!" Clarke bellowed. "Rest assured I will find a way to contact your superiors and see you court-martialed for this. We are recording this conversation, Captain. You will be held accountable."

  "What else is new?" He looked down at the clock again and said, "Well, folks. It looks as if our time has come to an end. Admiral, it was nice chatting with you. Do me a favor and keep your maniacs on your side from now on, okay? I have enough people to kill from my own universe."

  Vic turned to Jessica and smiled warmly, "If you ever change your mind, find another wormhole. I'll be waiting."

  The screen went blank and Captain Singh said, "Commander King?"

  She could only stand there, staring.

  "Jessica?"

  "What?" She snapped her head sideways and realized the captain was speaking to her. "Sorry, sir. Yes, Captain? What do you need?"

  "What is the status of the wormhole?"

  She looked down at the console and said, "Closed, sir. The wormhole is gone."

  "What a vile, arrogant, wretched excuse for a military officer," Admiral Clarke spat. "I dare say, if that is what passes for elite in that world, we are well glad to be rid of them."

  Captain Singh watched the Admiral storm off and eased his way beside Jessica, staring at her with a knowing smile. "That guy sure rubbed Clarke the wrong way. I kind of liked him. You know, you had me worried there for a minute."

  She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Worried about what? That I'd cross over to an alternate universe with some stranger just because he had nice eyes and made me an offer?"

  "Yes," he said. "Yes. Exactly that."

  "Never," she said. She turned her back on the Captain and headed for the elevator doors, not thinking about the handsome stranger on the view screen, nor his invitation to join her on an adventure far from everything she knew.

  Trying very hard not to think about any of it, indeed.

  In the Grand Inquisitors hall, General Milner finished by saying, "That is what I know, based on Captain Cojo's reports of the matter, and what we were able to learn from our own investigation."

  The Chief Inquisitor raised an eyebrow, "And what of the weapon, this so-called Sun Hammer? Do you believe they truly destroyed it?"

  "Only a very stupid, or completely crazy, person would destroy a weapon that gives such unlimited power, your honor. In other words, if there's one person I think might have destroyed it, it could be Cojo."

  "That is unfortunate," the Chief Inquisitor said. "Most unfortunate. There are many who feel our struggles against the Sapienists could use such power as a deterrent."

  "I am inclined to agree with them," Milner said.

  "Of course you are. You are a man of war, and men of war always think that peace can only be achieved through the threat of mass annihilation."

  Milner nodded, "I've always felt it was a good thing to know one's self, your honor. Is there anything else the court would like to speak with me about?"

  "No, General," the Chief Inquisitor said, "you are dismissed."

  Milner made his way out of the hall and headed toward the nearest command station. He had not heard from his son in several days, and was looking forward to hearing how his new assignment was coming along. Leading Grendel Unit as the new commanding officer, especially after the disaster that had been Vic Cojo and the mantipor getting arrested, was no easy task. As much as he hated to admit it, he was glad that Frank Kelly and Bob Buehl were with the boy. Despite being cooperators with Cojo, they had good qualities.

  He turned the corner to enter the command station, and the ensign standing by the door snapped to and called out, "General Milner has arrived!"

  Milner eyed the ensign, surprised at how loudly she'd announced his arrival. An officer stood up briskly from his station and headed directly toward the General, unable to make eye contact with him.

  Milner smiled slightly at the officer, saying, "Why are you all acting like this? What's going on?"

  "We received an incoming message from Grendel Unit while you were being debriefed, sir. I'm afraid I have some bad news," the officer said, his voice no louder than a whisper. "It's about your son."

  Milner heard the sound of waves rushing toward him, breaking over the top of his head with enough force to snap his spine in half. He blinked rapidly, trying to make out what the man in fr
ont of him was saying over the roar in his ears, and said, "I'm sorry? What did you just say?"

  "I said we received an emergency message. Your son, Captain Hill, has been killed in the line of duty, sir. I'm so incredibly sorry, sir."

  The wave broke him then, sending him down to his knees, and he lowered his face into his hands, roaring back at it until his voice broke.

  IV. FIGHT

  THE POWER

  19. Night of the Living Baseheads

  A long line of guards braced the walls that led to the President's chambers. They cradled their weapons like mothers holding infants, long pikes with curved blades at either end that could fire with the power of a tank turret. At first, General Milner had not realized the guards were there, and he still was unsure how many surrounded him. They could only be seen from the corner of his eye as he walked past, catching a glimpse of them in his peripheral at angles to which their camouflage could not calibrate quickly enough.

  They stood as still as possible, not acknowledging his presence in any way. They ignored his initial salutes and attempts to greet them, as if he were a lower rank than the most misfit toilet scrubber. The General had paraded in front of thousands of troops all across the galaxy, inspecting their uniforms and assessing their battle readiness. Most had done their best to simply pass muster. A few had made the mistake of not taking the General seriously enough.

  None had ever just ignored him.

  These troops wore no rank or other discernable insignia. The ones along the hallway appeared made of the same color and texture of the walls from the legs up, but their feet mimicked the light and tile pattern of the floor.

  He passed one standing in front of a large bay window. The window revealed a garden of sunlight and trees beyond the glass, and the top half of the soldier's uniform reflected the sky and grass and flowers, blending him in perfectly. Milner nodded to the soldier as he stared, trying to guess where the man's eyes would be. It was futile.

  Two large metal doors stood open at the end of the hall, huge assortments of gleaming fire diamonds molded into the official seal of Unification. Milner unconsciously straightened his uniform as he approached the doors and he took a deep breath, summoning his resolve as he entered the chambers.

  The room was dark, lit only by the intermittent ripple of blue and purple ribbons of neon that floated past. The soft whisper of voices surrounded him, echoing from each direction so that he was unsure whether someone was standing directly in front of him or at the farthest corners of the room. He reminded himself that with the soldier's camouflaging capabilities, it was possible the room was packed with hundreds of men, guns at the ready.

  He moved slowly through the darkness, searching until he saw the bright red glow of fire ahead, lighting the heavy jowls and multi-tiered chin of a man who leaned forward to lower his face into the pillow of smoke rising from the flame and inhaled deeply. The man's wide, circular nostrils flared as he sucked in the smoke and his heavy-lidded eyes fluttered slightly. The light went out and the man vanished back into the darkness again.

  The General took several steps forward and said, "President Wolmar, thank you for sparing a moment of your time to meet with me."

  "More," the man gasped and the red light appeared again, a bright flame torching the end of a thin golden box, no larger than a cigar, but carved with the images of strange totems along its sides. The box began to smoke and the President grunted as he breathed in, Wolmar got his face as close to the box as he could endure until the intense heat forced him to back away. "I need a fresh box," he demanded.

  "But, my lord, this is your third today."

  "And I will have four. Or five. Or however many I choose, and if you do not get it for me, I will find someone else who will."

  "Yes, my lord," the woman answered, and then was gone. Milner briefly saw the woman's green skin and the soft slither of her tail before she moved out of his view.

  "I forgot you were coming, Milner."

  The General clasped his hands behind his back and paused, weighing his words. "This is the appointment I was given, sir. I can show you the confirmation if you like."

  There was a muted gurgle of laughter in response, and then, "That will not be necessary. Did you like her? She's an Ischion half-breed. Quite stunning, really, if you can get past her eyes. There is nothing quite like bedding a reptilian. Do you want to try it?"

  "No, sir," Milner said. "Or is it my lord, now?" The last part came out slightly sharper than he'd meant it to, his words tinged by his frustration at being toyed with.

  A ribbon of light danced slowly through the air between them and Milner saw that the President was reclined on a large chair, staring at him. His massive shoulders were slumped forward and his arms had grown so fat that his forearms folded down over his wrists. "The Ischion are telepaths, you know. Half-breeds do not possess the gift, as far as I can tell."

  "Fascinating, sir," Milner said. He tried to redirect the conversation back around to the subject of his visit, but the President cut him off.

  "I believe a squad under your command encountered them once. Slaughtered an entire tribe, from what I can recall."

  "Ah, well, I am sure they were in performance of their duties, sir."

  "I am sure that we are all safer with two of them in prison for life."

  Milner's jaw quivered slightly but he did not speak and he was glad to be hidden in the darkness. Perhaps the Ischion half-breeds possessed more psychic abilities than the President was admitting, after all.

  "Why do you look so strained, General? I am increasing your position," the President said. "You're being promoted."

  Milner's eyebrows raised. "Thank you, sir," he sputtered. He felt a surge of renewed confidence flow through him and said, "I swear by all that is sacred I will bring an end to this war."

  "What war?" the President said.

  Milner looked at him with a half-smile, thinking the man was making a joke. "Yes, sir. Well, at any rate, the Sapienist fanatics are about to learn the meaning of fear."

  "I asked you a question, General. What war?"

  "The war against the terrorists trying to destroy Unification, sir. The war against the maniacs blowing up schools and courthouses. The ones who…"

  The President cocked an eyebrow at him and said, "Killed your son?"

  "That has nothing to do with it, sir."

  "Of course not." Another ribbon of light rippled past them, wiggling through the air and stopping at the green-skinned lizard woman walking toward them. The President smiled grimly and said, "Your new position is Administrator of Services. You will be overseeing kitchen supplies and cargo transports all across the galaxy, General. You will assure that all commerce in this quadrant flows in through us and out from us. It's a highly-valued position, really. A bit dull, obviously, but someone has to keep the coffers full."

  "Administration?" Milner said. "You honestly expect me to leave the armed services? You can't be serious. The terrorists are doing everything possible to destroy us, sir. I can't leave now."

  The Ischion woman's yellow, serpentine eyes burned in the darkness. Her long black hair was twisted tightly on top of her head, accentuating her extended jaw and recessed nostrils. Her lips were feminine and she smiled softly at the President as she bent forward and offered him another box. He grunted and said, "You certainly took your time."

  She flicked the small red flame in her other hand and waved it under the box, releasing a puff of thin, white smoke. The President opened his mouth as wide as he could to let it pour into his throat until he could bear no more and began to cough. He sat back in his chair and laughed slightly as he wiped his watery eyes. He held out his hand and snapped his fingers for the box, ordering the Ischion half-breed to hand it over. He ran his fingers over the sides of it, touching the carved figures along its surface and said, "Do you see these things? These were her gods. The ones her tribe worshipped long before humanity ever breached the threshold of space. They believed that these gods controlled their
fates and brought order to the universe. And just like every other species in existence, they told themselves fairy tales to disavow the bald truth that the universe is nothing but chaos and random chance." He passed the box back to the Ischion and said, "Do you know what that story tells me, General?"

  "No."

  "It tells me that we are the gods these creatures have all been waiting for. They crave order and it is ours to give. The Sapienist resistance to lowering themselves before lesser creatures is only natural. And if it reminds the subspecies we encounter of our position, then perhaps it is right that they be reminded of it now and again."

  Milner watched the President wave the Ischion to light the box again, giving him a moment to suck the smoke deep into his lungs. "What you are saying is in violation of Unification's most basic tenets, sir. We are sworn to the service of other cultures, and what you are saying is meant to either test my commitment," he paused as the President stared at him, looking deeply into him from behind the red light of the flame, and said, "or it is treason."

  He was seized immediately by the shoulders and forced to his knees, made to bow in front of the President's chair. He felt the bladed tip of one of the guard's energy pikes bite under his chin and lift it until he was looking up at the man in front of him.

  "Terrorists," the President smirked. "Soldiers, rebels, freedom fighters, call them what you will. They are the enemies of mankind one day and the heroes of a revolution the next."

  "They are not soldiers," Milner grunted, unable to open his mouth clearly for fear of impaling himself on the spiked blade digging into his skin. "They kill women and children. They massacre innocents."

  "So do you," the President sneered. "So do I. The only difference is, when we do it, we do it in the name of Unification, just as it has been done in the name of every nation or empire since time began. It is the way of things, General. Surely you know that. How many innocents have you slaughtered in all the attacks you've ordered? How many villagers, and wives, and children of your targets have been blown up or gunned down? Let's not sit here and waste time pretending to be offended by it. I am far beyond such simplistic views."