Hammer and Crucible

by Cameron Cooper

  Bonded mortgages were even worse. Not only did I have to work for someone else for thirty years, but I didn’t get a choice about who I worked with. True, I wouldn’t have to pay interest on the mortgage, but whoever held my mortgage bond got to tell me what to do, where to go and how to breathe. I would be a slave in all but name, so that at the end of the thirty years, I would get another twenty or twenty-five years of free life, before having to go through the rigmarole all over again.

  No, thank you.

  “The rejuvenation process the Rangers provide is not a form of bondage?” Blankenburg asked me. “After all, you work for the Emperor, for more than thirty years. If you stop working as a Ranger, no more rejuvenation. The difference is?” He cocked a brow.

  He had a point, but I didn’t like it. “That’s completely fucking different.”

  He pressed his palms to the table. “It is not my intention to get into semantics. I am only here to find a solution for you.”

  I rubbed my temple. “No offence, Blankenburg, because you give the appearance of having good intentions, but your offer sucks like a vacuum.”

  The medico leaned forward. “Do you have a headache?” Her voice was sharp.

  “Only all the fucking time,” I told her. “Especially when I have to deal with assholes like you.” I looked at Blankenburg. “Are we done? Do you have any other offer to make?”

  “I don’t think we could make you an offer you would consider.” He was smart. He knew when to give up.

  I got my feet.

  “At least let me scan you before you go. I might be able to relieve your headache,” the doctor said, her tone concerned.

  “I already know how to relieve the headache,” I told her, and demonstrated that by turning and leaving.

  I lied. My headache did not go away. It got worse.

  Juliyana had found a two-berth room. I parked myself on the other bunk, as she sat and listened to the shortened version of my clinic visit.

  Her response was pragmatic. “Where does that leave us, then? Should I go on alone?”

  “Gabriel Dalton won’t talk to you. Not about this. Hell, the chances he’ll talk to me are slim. He hates my guts. But he knew me. He doesn’t know you.”

  She nodded. “Then you’re probably not going to like this. Gabriel Dalton’s military record is sealed. I can’t get into it, not officially.” She considered me. “You have a different way of reaching him?”

  “Not from here. Any communications goes through the array. The array is controlled by the Emperor.” I considered. “All I need is Dalton’s location. A face-to-face is the only way to handle this.”

  “Now who’s being paranoid?”

  “Basic security precautions,” I told her. “Why do you think senior officers still hand orders over personally?”

  “Without the crush shot, you can’t get anywhere near a military base,” Juliyana said. “He will just have to talk to me, instead.”

  “Suck up a breath and hold still for a while,” I told her irritably. “I’ll figure this out.”

  “When? No offence, Danny, but your head could implode at any time. If you drop dead, then it’s on me. I can’t be a supernumerary on this. I need to be up the sharp end with you, so I can take over, if that time comes.”

  “A few days will not kill me.”

  “They might.” Her voice was tight. “I’m not in this to make sure you get your closure.”

  “You want your career back,” I said heavily. “I am aware.”

  She lifted a brow. “So how do you intend to fix this?”

  “I don’t know yet. But in the meantime, there are things we can do.”

  “Like what?”

  “I think a conversation with Dancy is in order. I can do that from here.”

  “Dancy.” Her voice was flat. She didn’t like Dancy any more than I did. He had replaced her mother in Noam’s heart. “The man is so self-centered, I’d be surprised he’s even registered that Noam is dead.”

  I upped her dislike to a few notches above mine. “He made Noam happy,” I reminded her. “He was the closest person to Noam when he died. A few questions about Noam’s state of mind at that time might generate some interesting answers.” I reached for my pad.

  It took three hours for a channel to become available.

  And within a few seconds of hooking up to Dancy’s private code, I realized the conversation would be of no help. Dancy glared at me through the screen, his jaw working. So did his throat. “That was forty years ago. Why are you trying to dig that up now?”

  “He was my son,” I reminded him. “I have reason to ask questions right now. I’m sorry if they distress you.” I was mortally aware of the time counting down in the top left corner of the screen. The direct live feed to Dancy would only remain open for as long as the gates did. That would last only a few minutes.

  “Distress me?” His voice rose. “You have no idea…” He got himself back under control. “It took me years to offload the damage he left behind. People are only just starting to trust me again. For years they figured I was as nuts as he was, and likely to take down the nearest military establishment in some sort of crazy suicide run, to complete his work.”

  Behind the screen of my pad and well out of sight of Dancy, Juliyana raised her brow. I could hear her wow without her needing to say it aloud.

  I wouldn’t break through Dancy’s bitterness with a simple appeal to his better nature. I braced myself and said, “I’m dying, Dancy. The doctors tell me I have weeks, maybe only days. As a favor to me, before that happens, would you answer a few questions about Noam for me?”

  He blinked at me, his intense dark-eyed gaze seeing me properly for the first time. “Damn, Danny, I’m sorry.”

  I nodded.

  Dancy rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know if I can give you any answers you will find satisfying. Noam and I… Noam left me, weeks before he died.”

  Juliyana sat up.

  I hesitated. “I guess I’m sorry, too, then. I didn’t know that.”

  He grimaced.

  “Exactly how long before he died did he leave?” I added. “I’m sorry to prod, but…”

  Dancy sighed. “Six weeks? I’m not entirely sure. Not anymore. It’s not something I documented.”

  Dancy was a researcher—an archival archeologist. For him to forgo documenting anything was significant. I nodded sympathetically. “What was Noam like before he left?”

  “About what you’d expect from a man winding himself up to leave. He was moody. He picked arguments. That is, when he was actually home.”

  “Well, he was a Ranger.”

  “Was he?” Dancy asked. The bitterness was back in his voice. “For nearly a year before he left, his uniform stayed in the closet. He didn’t wear it, not once. When I asked him about it, he snarled at me. I never asked again.”

  I didn’t ask him what Noam was doing all the time the uniform stayed in the closet, because I already knew. It was something to do with the Imperial Shield. Only, I couldn’t tell Dancy that. “So, when he was home, he was argumentative?”

  “Why do you need to know this? Really?” Dancy demanded.

  “I’m trying to figure out what Noam was doing before he died,” I said carefully. Dancy already knew Noam had been up to something mysterious, so there was no harm in referring to it.

  “He was diving into the deep end of crazy,” Dancy said. “You won’t make sense of it.”

  “Actually, craziness usually has a coherent logic in it—at least to those who own the construct.”

  “What does it matter?” he said tiredly. “It doesn’t change anything. And it won’t bring him back.”

  “No, but it might let you feel a little more kindly about him,” I said gently.

  “I feel nothing about him at all, anymore. Don’t bother bringing me up to date, even if you find something out. Is there anything else, Danny?”

  “I have to ask. Did Noam leave behind anything which might give clues
about what was on his mind around them? Journal entries? Personal funds?”

  Dancy’s jaw worked. His eyes glittered. “If he did, I wouldn’t know. I deleted his personal archive.” He stared at me, daring me to berate him for this.

  Instead, I said, “I’m sorry, Dancy. I won’t bother you again. Thank you for your time.”

  He didn’t nod or speak. He merely broke the connection.

  The timer in the corner of the screen disappeared, to be replaced with a dialog box telling me the cost of the call, and a button to accept the charges. That single conversation had cost me the equivalent of a month’s rent.

  “I think this is the last phone call we’ll be making,” I said dryly, handing the pad back to Juliyana.

  Her face paled as she saw the cost flashing on the screen. She prodded the pay box and put the pad aside. “And such a helpful conversation, too.”

  “Actually, it was. Noam’s behavior before he left confirms he was with the Imperial Shield. It is proof the transfer orders are legitimate.”

  “We already knew that,” she pointed out.

  “And now we have independent corroboration. We also know there are no personal files or journals to help us figure out what’s going on. That cuts off a great many avenues of investigation. If he was away from home a lot, and even Dancy didn’t know what was going on, it’s likely any other of Noam’s friends would also draw a blank. So, we must concentrate on his commanding officer, who can point us toward his next CO.”

  “First, we have to find him.” She glanced at the pad beside her hip. “And we are not phoning him.” She got to her feet. “Let’s go and get some real food, while I can still afford it. I could murder a steak right now.”

  It sounded like a fine idea to me. But then, I forget things.

  5

  Juliyana got her steak. Once upon a time I enjoyed a good steak, too, but these days my appetite lasts as long as the sizzle does. A full steak was wasted on me. I settled for another sandwich, printed. I had too much on my mind to worry about the size of the bill, too.

  “When do you have to report back for duty?” I asked Juliyana as she chewed with a blissful expression. We had even snagged a table and two chairs. Considering the bottom line of the bill we would get for this meal, the table and two chairs didn’t seem like too much to ask for. At least we weren’t at the bar, where the stools were placed so close together it was impossible to eat without ramming your elbow into the next person’s ribs.

  “I took a leave of absence.” She swallowed. “They didn’t even argue, which shows you how much I was needed around there.”

  A leave of absence could negatively impact one’s military records. Juliyana was risking much to deal with her father’s history. “How long do you think this will take?” she added, her voice inflecting upward.

  “I have no idea. Nothing seems to be straightforward about this, so I figured a time limit would be one more problem to deal with. I’m glad to hear there isn’t one.”

  “I can’t stay away forever,” she pointed out. Her eyes narrowed. She was looking at something over my shoulder. “Man on your six, coming your way,” she murmured, then shifted her gaze to her dinner plate.

  I didn’t turn around to look. “Armed?”

  She smiled as if she was saying something funny. “No, but he looks useful.”

  I braced myself, although the last time I had been in any physical altercation, I had ended up on my back, with my jaw close to dislocated. I wasn’t sure how useful I would be.

  Juliyana made a great show of cutting her next forkful of steak, which kept the knife in her hand. She didn’t take the bite.

  “Danny Andela?” came the question.

  Juliyana looked up as if she was surprised at the interruption. I jerked as if I had been just as surprised and swiveled on the chair to look up at him.

  Tall, heavy shoulders, not-puny wrists. A potbelly from too many carbs and no muscle definition. Juliyana could take him. I wasn’t certain I could, not anymore.

  “Who wants to know?” I said.

  “I’m Billy.” He crouched so his head was level with ours. It stopped me from straining my neck, which I appreciated.

  Juliyana put down her fork. The knife had disappeared.

  Billy gave her a wide smile. “You can put the knife down, too, Juliyana. I’m not here with violence in mind.”

  “Okay, so you know who we are. Talk fast, or you lose a finger,” I told him.

  “Or two,” Juliyana added.

  His smile didn’t slip, although he took his hand off the edge of the table, where he had rested it to maintain balance.

  He glanced around, spotted a spare chair, snagged it and brought it over to the table and sat down.

  I tried not to let it bother me that he hadn’t asked if it was okay for him to join us. My gaze shifted to Juliyana. Her face was smooth, her eyes blank. She was pissed, too.

  He didn’t seem to notice. Instead he looked at my plate. “A bowl of soup and a salad would go well with that sandwich. Can I get you some?”

  “I have zero appetite,” I said, my voice flat.

  “Another steak, Juliyana?”

  “Ten seconds and counting,” she replied.

  He held out his wrist. “Feel free.”

  Juliyana waved her pad over his wrist. It pinged as she read it. Her face still did not twitch. She passed the pad over to me.

  Instead of the usual serial number ID read out, a white square sat in the center of the screen. Five words.

  Billy Kurzel. Agent at large.

  “It doesn’t tell me a fucking thing,” I said, putting the pad down. It was another lie.

  “Who do you work for?” Juliyana pressed.

  “Various different parties,” he said airily.

  “You’re not getting any closer to the point,” I said.

  He nodded calmly, as if he didn’t know Juliyana could break his neck and go back to her steak without raising her pulse.

  “Appearances can be so deceiving, can’t they?” he said. “When I heard the Imperial Hammer was on the station, it made me sit up. I’m sure everyone who looks at you discounts your history.” His gaze upon me was steady.

  “Let me guess. You don’t discount me?”

  “Precisely. I have spent an instructive few hours going over your history. It is a pleasure to meet you, Danny Andela.”

  I didn’t let down my guard. “The clinic sent you, didn’t they?”

  Juliyana rolled her eyes and made an impatient noise. “Whatever happened to patient confidentiality around here?”

  “I wasn’t a patient,” I reminded her. I recalled the quick scan the boy at the front of the clinic had taken of my wrist. “The clinic and I chose not to complete any business arrangements. They sold the information to this barracuda, instead.”

  Billy’s smile shifted a little. “Blankenburg thought I could help you. As it happens, I can almost guarantee I can.”

  I looked at Juliyana. “He’s a recruiter for paramilitary outfits.”

  Billy’s smile disappeared altogether. He glanced over his shoulder, for we were not sitting inside a privacy bubble right now. “I didn’t say that,” he said quickly.

  “You have access to tech which can divert a serial number inquiry. You hotfooted it here as soon as you heard I was on the station.” I smiled at him. “And you know who the Imperial Hammer is. There are not too many people outside the Rangers who know the name. The paramilitary outfits we used to fight certainly did.” I smiled at him. “You realize you’re sitting beside a Ranger right now?”

  His glance flickered toward Juliyana. “You’re not in uniform. You can’t arrest me if you’re not officially on duty.”

  “Oh, I’d much rather hear you hang yourself a bit higher, before my grandmother drops a heavy load on you,” she said, her tone bright and cheery.

  Billy’s eyes narrowed. “I think we’ve got off on the wrong foot.”

  Juliyana snorted.

  He turne
d to me. “You have spent your adult life enjoying the privileges of military life, which includes regeneration and the very best and most advanced medical care available in the Empire. You didn’t pay a cent for it. What if I could make that happen for you again?”

  I gotta admit that for a fraction of a heartbeat, I entertained the possibility. Then, like cards rifling from one hand to the other, the sequence of decisions and logic reasserted themselves: My time was done. My reputation was gone. Let it go.

  I shook my head, regretfully. “All I’m looking for is crush juice. I have no time left to sign up for even a short-term contract.”

  Billy rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “You don’t seem to understand. You can very nearly write your own terms. The people I represent understand your value.” He paused. “If you have something to do, somewhere to go, and clearly you do, because you want crush juice, then there may even be a way for us to delay the contract activation long enough for you to deal with your personal issues first.”

  “Wow, they really want you, don’t they?” Juliyana said.

  “You understand I was kicked out of the Rangers, don’t you?” I asked Billy.

  His eyes sparkled. “You formally resigned. It’s of no concern to us. You were a senior colonel in the combat battalions. Your expertise cannot be bottled or turned into an algorithm. People will pay for your experience and wisdom.” He leaned forward to emphasize his point. “Do you know how many wars are running in the Empire right now?”

  “I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”

  “Official, declared wars; thirty-seven. Those are wars between acknowledged states, including corporate and ball-bound. Undeclared wars, skirmishes, infiltrations and other paramilitary activities, documented and undocumented, well… I could sit here a long time listing those. The people I work for have an interest in many of those arenas and could use someone with your skills.”

  “But first I have to rejuvenate,” I said, my voice dry.

  “With us, the rejuvenation therapy you would receive would be the most advanced that is currently available. As good as military grade.”

  “Of course it would be,” I replied. “You would want your performing monkey to be at her best.”