Fool's Gold (The Wandering Engineer) (68 page)

Enrique
frowned. Thornby shivered a little.  “It is useful for those degenerates who
aren't completely gone. But not for all.” He cocked his head. “Sometimes you
have to use force and nip a problem permanently.” His mandibles clacked
together hard.

“I
understand,” Irons nodded. “Or incarceration,” he shrugged. “A nice penal
colony would work. Let them spend their energy working and surviving.”

“Now
that I like,” Enrique smiled. “I'll run it by the judge.” He nodded as they got
up.

Thornby
sighed as she patched up another patient. “What are we going to do with you?”
she murmured.

The
girl cat mewed a little. She looked down to her kits sleeping on her lap.
“That's a good question. What are you going to do with us?” an elderly matron
asked. Thornby looked over to her.

“Well,
we've got some options open.” She came over and hunkered down next to the
matron. She watched the felinoid sniff the air. “Are you blind?” she asked
softly.

“Hurrah.”
the silvery lionoid nodded. She shrugged. “A long time.”'

“Cataracts’?”
the doctor asked. She took out an LED light from her breast pocket and shone it
into the matron's eyes. Her implants were only basic. She'd need a diagnostic
scanner to be sure.

“They
clouded over time. My vision became fuzzy and now I only see a faint light,”
the matron sighed.

“What
do you care. Get it over with,” a young male snarled.

“Get
what over with?” Thornby asked. She hummed as she brought up a diagnostic tool.
“Hold still.” She held it over the matron's eyes.

“Kill
us,” a girl growled. Thornby looked over to her. “That's what you’re going to
do right? The pride has fallen.”

“Is
that what you call yourselves? A pride?” Thornby asked. The matron flexed her
claws. “There.” She took the diagnostic scanner away. She watched the readings
on her HUD.

“You
definitely have cataracts. I'll schedule you for surgery,” she nodded to an
orderly nearby. He made a note.

“Thank
you,” the matron said, hand on her arm. Thornby looked down to the hand. The
claws were thankfully sheathed.

“It's
my duty,” she said nodding.

“So
what is to become of us?” another female asked. Another chuffed, as her child
chirred a question. She pushed the baby’s head down.

Thornby
realized most of the gang, or pride as they preferred to call themselves were
female. There were only a handful of adult males. The rest of the males were
adolescents. Scrawny adolescents.

“Well,
you've got some options.” She patted the matron's hand as she turned to face
the group. “You can request counseling and apply for schooling. Or you can
apply for the security or law enforcement departments. I'm not sure many of you
are really cut out for medicine.”

A
female with scars on her side and shoulder looked up then shook her head. She
closed her eyes.

“Where
are the others?” the pantheroid asked.

“Others?”

“The
pride.”

“Ah,
well, any not wounded went to the brig,” she replied.

“Oh.”
He nuzzled at a gel covered wound.

“Don't
do that. The gel is toxic,” an orderly said. He snarled at her. She jumped
back, hands going to her throat.

“Softly
Jethro,” the matron sighed. He hissed and spat. She growled. The other females
did as well. The guards looked around nervously. The ears of the panther
flattened and his fur stood up then flattened.

Thornby
realized they were joining the matron in rebuking the young male. “Seriously
young man, you need to calm down and not cause trouble. Aren't you in enough as
it is?” she asked.

His
tawny eyes turned to her then away. He licked the fur on his shoulder
disdainfully.

“Kits
these days,” the matron sighed.

“Tell
me about it.” Thornby said shaking her head. A marine in combat armor came in.
She turned with the others.

The
giant suit stomped in then stopped in the center of the room. The helmet seemed
to look around the room, then it peeled back to reveal the Major.

“Everything
all right in here Commander?” he asked, eyes looking around.

She
nodded. “So far so good.” She adjusted the lights over a patient. “Nice suit.”

“We
just broke them out of storage before the pirates came,” the Major replied.

“How
can you run that. It's supposed to require a link,” the panther asked. The
Major and Thornby turned to him.

“It
does. How'd you know that?” the Major asked.

“My
ancestors were soldiers. In the first and second AI war and the Xeno war.
Scouts. Recon. The Black Devils,” he sniffed, sitting up and straightening his
shoulders. His fur fluffed in challenge.

“The
Black Devils. Recon you say?” the Major asked. His hands went out like he was
touching a keyboard. His finger wiggled.

“What's
he doing?” a female asked.

“Accessing
the records,” Smithy replied. She looked startled as a holo of the AI appeared
next to the Major. “Major I'd appreciate a request for access next time,” he
said then turned to the group.

“Got
it,” the Major said, not acknowledging the AI's rebuke. “Black panthers in the
military services, and Black Devils. Hmmm. Recon.” He nodded.

“You
are a Major?” the teenage panther asked. His chin jutted out.

“Huh?
Yeah. We're reforming the military branches. I'm a marine.” He shrugged.
“Currently the ranking marine. I was given a promotion after our last dust up
with the pirates. I had been frocked to Major as a courtesy, Admiral Irons made
it official.”

The
teens eyes slitted. “Are you going to do recon?”

“Of
course. Eventually,” the major nodded turning to him. “Why? Interested in
signing up?”

A
female next to the panther gave a throaty chuckle. “Since he was weaned. All
panthers are raised with the story of the marines.” Another chuckled and
nodded.

“Well,
You can do so. Any of you can. Provided you sever all links to illicit
activities or those who do them.” The Major shrugged. “You'll have to go
through boot and accept military discipline. I've got to admit, it'll be a
while before we do many ground ops though.”

“Ground...”
a female said looking up in surprised. Thornby looked. The female was rakishly
thin. Her arms and legs were long. She was covered in spotted fur. A cheetah
biod her implant told her. This one was covered in poorly healed scars.

“Yeah
dummy!” the teen said lashing out at her. She shrank back.

“Easy,”
Thornby said, waving to a guard. “Pack behavior remember?”

She
grimaced. Where there was an alpha, there was always an omega. The bottom dreg
of the pack. Someone constantly picked on and beaten. From the looks of things
this one fit the bill. “You okay miss?” The girl had a glassy eyed look.

She
turned, her eyes went wide and she chirred. She chirruped and nodded as her
tail thrashed then wrapped itself around the bed's supporting leg. “To see the
ground, to run under the sky...”

“Well,
the nearest world is Gaston in the Agnosta system,” the Major replied. “We're
sending Destiny, she's one of the freighters we caught from the pirates, back
to Agnosta to check up on things there.”

“You...
pirates?” a female asked.

“Sounds
like someone's been smoking cabaña gas,” another chirred. Her head dipped up
and down with laughter.

The
Major turned. “Yes space pirates. The Admiral picked them off with Firefly. He,
hell, we are rebuilding the fleet. Doc there is a lieutenant commander.”

Thornby
blushed a little as all eyes turned to her. “Reservist. I'm still the same
chief medical officer here on Anvil.”

The
matron huffed a laugh then coughed.

“My
ancestors were from Genkara. They were park rangers. They were evacuated in a
refugee ship,” the cheetah said quietly.

“Who
cares!” a female said. She raised her hand to cuff the girl.

“Enough
of that,” Thornby said. She held up her hand. “This is a sick bay. Calm down or
I will sedate you.” She glared around. The cheetah girl came over to her side.

“Can
I help mistress,” she purred. Doc looked at her in surprise.

“You
look like you need help, not the other way around. You're going to get a dunk
in the regen tank.”

“Why?
She's just a nuisance. Bloody cheetah,” a lioness growled.

“I'm
a nuisance when you don't need me you mean,” the cheetah said. “My name is
Cheetahra the seventy third, I'm... I mean I want to be a medic. I've been
acting as one for the pride.”

“Stupid.
Waste of resources.”

“Why?
Is that a bad thing? Having a medic?” the Major asked turning to the lioness girl.

“They
are lions, I'm a cheetah,” Cheetahra said with a air of patience.

“So?”
Thornby said. “I'm human. So what?”

“So
lions hate cheetah. Usually they kill them,” the matriarch sighed. “It is the
order of things in nature. Unfortunately such prejudices carried over when we
were elevated.”

“So...
why are you here?” an orderly asked.

“No
place else to go,” the cheetah said shaking her head. Her tail twitched. “But
the chance to...”

“Yeah,
yeah, we heard,” a lioness voice said testily.

“So
that is what we can do? Work, join the marines or navy, or...”

“Or
apply to another colony, or as ship crew on one of the civilian ships, or save
your money and get passage to Gaston, or another colony,” Thornby finished
nodding. She finished checking the bandage of her patient, patted her side then
went back to the middle of the room. She looked around. “It is an option.”

“Do
the marines care if I'm a sculpt or a genie?” the panther asked.

“Not
a bit,” the Major said shaking his head. “I don't care where you’re from, as long
as you can do the job. There are neo's already in the marines.”

“It
doesn't matter if you’re a sculpt or genie. We're all intermingled by now,” the
matron said with a laugh.

“How
is that?” the panther asked. “Granddame,” he added as a female near him looked
up and growled. Her eyes locked to his then looked away.

“A
thousand years of interbreeding will do that,” she replied. She felt about on
her bed. A female rose to help her but she chirred briefly and then sat back
with a soft sigh.

“True.
And we really don't care what you are as long as you do the job,” Thornby said
nodding. “Think of this as a fresh start. As a civilian or in the military.”
She shrugged.

“Marine.
Recon,” the panther said sitting up. The Major nodded to him. “If I am allowed.
Recon or nothing. The honor of my ancestors demands it.”

“Well,
since you'd be one of the first you'd be setting the tone for future
generations son. So you'll have one hell of a hard road ahead of you,” the
Major said studying the boy. It was a bitch getting the sensors to lock onto
the kid.

Panther
types had received quite a few special genetic tricks during the time from the
first AI war to the Xeno war. They were the ultimate ghost soldier. No wonder
they were tolerated in the pride he realized. They would also make for Jim
dandy assassins.

“Is
this a formal request?” he asked. The panther nodded.

“All
right then. I've logged it. As soon as Doc clears you We'll set you up with the
next boot class. That starts in two days. Until then concentrate on healing
well and building up your strength. You'll need it,” he smiled.

“And
the rest of us?” the matron asked.

“Still
up to you. Your fate is partially in your hands. Your choices will dictate it
as much as our own,” the Major said nodding to her. “Any other takers?” he
asked surveying the room. No one else volunteered. “Well, the marines aren't
for everybody,” he said smiling a feral smile. A few raised hackles at that. He
snorted.

“Good
day then,” he nodded and left.

“Something
I missed?” Irons said coming in as the Major left.

“That
voice.. are you the one that killed Leo?” the matron said sitting up.

Irons
eyes narrowed. “Yes,” he said drawing himself up straight.

“He
was my son,” she growled softly.

Irons
nodded warily.

All
the females were looking at him with raised hackles. A teenage liger male
snarled. He seemed to be building up to leap but a female cuffed him down
without looking at him.

“Stupid!
He's got a shield!”

“That's
right. I do,” Irons said, locking eyes with the boy. He cycled his own eye to a
cat’s eye. The liger's eyes widened suddenly then his fur fell.

“Your
really an admiral? From the past?” a voice asked.