Tech World (Undying Mercenaries Series) (26 page)

He paused and glanced back at me. “You’ve got a point. I wouldn’t call this my finest hour. But things are about to change, you watch. If you survive another few days, you’ll witness a realignment of the universe—in my favor.”

I didn’t see how that was possible, but I wanted to keep him talking. “You must know something,” I said. “Otherwise, you’re as shit-off stupid as they come. You’ve thrown away your career with Germanica and your life. The legions will never stop hunting for you—you have to know that.”

Claver shook his head and pressed onward. “Not so. They have no idea what’s coming. Even Hegemony is clueless. They’ll be taken completely by surprise when the break-up hits.”

“Break-up?” I asked, frowning. “What break-up?”

“I’m talking about the Empire,
boy. Not even you can believe it’s going to last much longer. Once the Core goes, the fringe can hang on for a little while, flying on inertia, but we can’t deny reality forever.”

I frowned. I’d known what he was talking about—but I hadn’t
wanted
to know. Could this mean rat of a man be right? Was the Empire doomed? The thought of it was terrifying and exhilarating at the same time.

“What do you know?” I asked him. “What’s happening in the Core Systems?”

“War,” he said seriously. “Civil War. They couldn’t hold it together. Silly, in a way. Why destroy something that’s worked for countless years over petty squabbles? Who cares which one of their fantastically rich societies gets the next slice of frontier worlds, really? They already have more than we can dream of.”

“War?” I asked, echoing the word. It caused me pain inside. I’d known, of course. We all had. The Core Systems were at war with one another. The organization I’d been part of all my life was crumbling somewhere in the center of a billion glowing stars. “What will happen out here on the frontier?”


That’s
the right question,” Claver said, turning around again. His eyes had lit up. “Destruction seeds construction, it always has. New small kingdoms will arise where once there was a single massive Empire. I figure a smart man, an opportunist who’s well-connected—this could be his time.”

I jabbed my finger at him. “What about serving Earth in this dark time? Your planet needs every smart man she has.”

His brow furrowed and his lips twisted. “Earth? They’ll bumble along trying to maintain the fiction. They’ll serve an Empire that’s already dead and gone. We’re not in a single Empire anymore—can’t you see that, fool? Frontier 921 is part of Mogwa faction territory, always has been. They own us. Now that they’re independent from the Empire, we serve them. Unfortunately, among the Galactics they’re small fry.”

His words were sickening me for some reason. I didn’t want to believe him. Since my first day of watching net vids and my first day of school, I’d been taught about the good side of the Empire and about the security and certainty it provided for all of us. To know that it was crumbling—that was hard to take.

“Mogwa?” I asked. “Chief Inspector Xlur is one of them, isn’t he?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Seems wrong that our fate will be decided by creatures we rarely meet,” I said.


Exactly! Now you’ve got it! You’ve grasped just a tiny thread of reality, but I believe it will strengthen and take root even in your dim mind. You’ll figure this out, McGill, I have faith in you as I do all common men. We’re no longer going to be slaves to a distant Empire. We’ll ditch the Mogwa because they’ll weaken. They’ve already withdrawn their Battle Fleet, valuing their territory in the Core Systems a thousand times more than they value our pathetic star systems. But that’s the answer, don’t you see? We’ll rebel. We’ll have to. It’s only a matter of time, and it’s happening right now all over this station.”

“Chaos and death,” I said. “That’s all I see.”

“Revolutions are rarely orderly affairs. Who are you, McGill? A soldier, loyal to the Empire down to the last? I would have thought that of all the creatures crawling in the slime of this station you’d be the first to bite your master’s hand.”

“Oh, I’m a biter all right,” I told him. “But don’t you think we ought to keep moving?”

“No,” he said, gesturing upward toward a closed valve. “We’ve already arrived.”

I looked upward
. “This is the way out?”

Claver rolled his eyes at me, saying nothing.

I hesitated. “Why’d you do all this?” I asked him. “The gunrunning, the goons waiting to rob us at the bank. When I didn’t let you steal those credits, you left and alerted every thug on the street to waylay us, didn’t you? All for a few Imperial coins?”

“Ar
e you going to open that hatch?” Claver asked. “All you have to do is touch the key to it.”

“Not until you answer
my questions.”

“There isn’t much time.”

“Then you’d better start talking, sir.”

He glared at me for a moment, but then
gave in. “Yeah, I did it. I set up the whole thing. And yes, I already told you that I believe this is a golden opportunity for a man like me to strike it rich.”

“You’re standing in a sewer, bleeding,” I pointed out. “Your plans have failed.”

“A momentary setback,” he snapped. “I admit, things haven’t gone smoothly. They would have if I’d had more time, but I was forced to act months ahead of schedule.”

I almost asked why, but then I realized what he meant. “Legion Varus—we came too early. Germanica wasn’t slated to go home for six months, but Turov
accelerated the rotation, forcing you to move up your plans.”

“Exactly,” he said with bitterness. “Now you know one more reason why I shot that woman. Can we get moving now, or do you want a lecture on the birds and the bees?”

I reached up and tapped the valve with the key. It opened. After a rush of hot water ran down over us Claver began climbing out.

“Move fast,” he said. “This water is from the cooling jackets. It’s mildly radioactive.”

His words propelled me, and I was soon standing by his side. I looked around realizing we were in a vast, open area.

There were ships standing nearby—shuttles and skimmers. Claver watched me closely.

“All of these were built off-world,” he said. “All of them are therefore controllable by even the lowliest Galactic official. All they have to do is use a key like this one.”

Looking down at the shell in my hand, I began to realize the kind of power it wielded. I could control anything built for trade within the Empire. It was like having the
pass-codes to operate every spaceship ever built.

-27-

 

We picked out a quiet, unmanned pinnace that sat
far out at the edge of the hangar. The ship was dark as there was no artificial light close enough to illuminate her sleek lines.

Walking up to her, I felt a thrill. I’d been aboard a dozen space-going craft, but I’d never even contemplated
stealing one and flying it myself. It was the kind of crazy thing I could see myself doing, but I’d honestly never considered it before.

Claver must have thought he had a dupe on his hands because he didn’t stop talking the whole way to the ship’s hatch.

“See how the starlight shines out there? There’s a barrier field keeping back the vacuum—or rather, it keeps a breathable atmosphere contained.”

Starlight shone down on the small ship as we approached her, and I had to admit she was a beauty. Stream-lined so she could fly in space or within a planetary atmosphere, pinnaces served to ferry important people between starships and planets or stations. The big ships like
Minotaur
weren’t designed to ever touch the surface of any world. They weren’t built to withstand G-forces or endure atmospheric friction. For heavy transportation, they used lifters which were inelegant ships that could enter an atmosphere and leave it again—but couldn’t fly to the stars as they had no form of warp drive.

Pinnaces were similar, but lighter, faster and smaller. They were like private jets, the kind of vehicle only the rich and powerful were familiar with.

I tapped the hatch with a thrill of excitement. I remembered that feeling—I’d felt it as a kid while stealing fruit from a government tree.

The hatch opened immediately, like magic. This key was growing on me. I realized it could open doors I’d never thought would budge for the likes of me.

“You like it, don’t you?” Claver asked, studying me. “Your first taste of real power. We’re not as far apart as you think we are, McGill. I know a kindred spirit when I see one. We’re both rule-breakers—old school throw-backs. We don’t belong in a universe full of laws, drones, and cameras.”

“Or locks either, apparently,” I said.

Chuckling, Claver ducked into the hatch and I followed him. I didn’t trust the old bastard as far as I could spit—not even half that far.

There was no one aboard. We slid into the cockpit and strapped in. Claver took the controls.

“You’re no tech, so I’m assuming you can’t even pilot a buzzer.”

“I could probably manage that,” I said. “But you can fly us out of here. Just where, by the way, are we headed?”

I’d already calculated the answer before I’d asked the question. I was more than certain he’d say he had a hideout down on the surface of the planet. By all reports, it was a hive of villainy and confusion. Where else would a pair of fugitives run? We couldn’t drift around in orbit—they’d find us eventually, and they might even shoot us down.

Grinning, Claver pointed through the pinnace’s front dome. The blast shields had slid away so he could see where we were going as the small ship powered up and glided toward the bubble-like force field that held back the infinite vacuum of space.

I followed his gesture, and I realized he wasn’t pointing at the planet which stretched out, vast and smoke-gray, below us. Startled, I looked at him to see if he was joking. His expression was intent, and I realized he was in earnest.

“We’re headed for
Minotaur
?” I demanded incredulously. “How the hell do you expect to get aboard a warship?”

He waggled his finger a
t my shell. “You’ve got the key, kid.”

The scale of this man’s ambition was just beginning to dawn on me. “You’re crazy.”

“What was your plan?”

“I thought maybe you had a hideout down on the planet. Maybe some smuggler friends you’d paid off or a stash of credit coins that would buy those friends.”

“Not a bad guess, actually,” he said. “I had those things not long ago. But the riots have gone too far. They’re spreading across the planet as well as the station. The brass knows. Did they tell you that part?”

I frowned at him and gazed downward. My commanders hadn’t talked about the planet’s surface much. They’d been grimly focused on hanging onto the station. The way it looked to me, we were on our last legs up here as well.

“You’re saying we’ve lost this entire world?” I asked. “How could that happen? What the hell did you help unleash?”

For the first time since I’d met him, Claver looked a trifle sheepish. He shrugged. “A man plans and schemes. He does his best. But sometimes, things do get out of hand. A genie is easier to release from a bottle than it is to stuff back in—you know what I mean?”

“No, not exactly. Tell me—”

At this point, a light flashed on the console. A voice spoke.

“This is
Minotaur
. There are no flights scheduled to dock with this vessel. Identify yourself and your intentions.”

I looked at Claver helplessly. “What do we say? They’ll blow us out of space.”

“Don’t say a damn thing. Think like a Galactic. Be as arrogant as all hell.”

He pointed to the console. “Touch the key to that contact.”

I did as he said even as
Minotaur
repeated their order. The voice cut out half way through its little speech.

“Uh—boarding approved,” said the voice, sounding surprised and confused. “Are any special accommodations required—sirs?”

“Don’t say a damn thing,” Claver told me. “Let them sweat. We’ll roll in and set down like we own the place—which we do, in a way.”

“What’s our cover story?”

“We’re escorting a Galactic. He’s aboard this ship, and this is a snap inspection. Watch them scurry like mice. We’ll snip their tails for fun.”

Incredulous, I watched events unfold exactly as Claver suggested. After we glided in to land inside
Minotaur’s
hangar, he marched off the pinnace with a regal air and scoffed at anyone he met along the way. They all bought his story.

“All personnel are to report to their modules and stay there,” he ordered.

The officer who was on hand to greet him hesitated. It was none other than Germanica’s Centurion Dubois himself. This was the man who’d handed over Claver to Graves and I for arrest days earlier. I figured Dubois had to recognize me, and I
knew
he recognized Claver. He had to be thinking he was in the middle of one of Claver’s infamous schemes.

“This man was Graves’ thug, wasn’t he?” the Centurion asked, looking at me. “I get it, Claver. You bribed him. Well done. You bought off your own guard and escaped Graves with style. There’s a troubling report, however, from Varus. They say—I know this is crazy—but they say you killed the Imperator…?”

“That’s a damned lie!” Claver said with a level of conviction I could never have duplicated. “But it doesn’t matter anyway. All such petty squabbles have been superseded. I’m escorting a VIP aboard this pinnace.”

“Yes,”
Dubois said. “Dispatch told me about that. I have trouble believing one of their kind is aboard—”

“Centurion
Dubois,” Claver said. “What you believe is immaterial, but I’ll try to help illuminate the situation in two steps.”

“That would be appreciated.”

“First, there’s this,” Claver produced a handful of golden coins. They gleamed and shone in the bright lights of the hangar deck.

I recognized them right away—they were illegal credit coins. Galactic credits from the Core Systems.

Dubois’ eyes popped, and he stashed the coins as fast as Claver had produced them. Faster, maybe.

“Second, I’ll make a statement,” Claver said. “A wise man would execute my orders promptly because the only life in this system that truly matters is in jeopardy. Galactic Agents circulate on many worlds. This world happens to be blessed with the presence of an individual of superior rank. I’ve managed to become her protector and spokesman.”

Dubois shook his head. “What a sly operator. Your rep is well-deserved. How do you want to do this?”

“As you may realize, the station will soon be lost to the rebels,” Claver began.

Dubois and his subordinates exchanged glances. “You think it’s that bad?”

“The Galactic I’m escorting believes this to be the case.
What I think doesn’t matter.”

“Ah, so she wants to save her own skin? I get it. What do we do?”

Claver demanded that a color guard be placed encircling the empty pinnace then had Dubois lead us personally to
Minotaur’s
bridge. He requested a vac suit, and one was provided.

I cleared my throat meaningfully. Claver looked at me as if I was an afterthought. He knew I was the only man present that could blow his scheme sky-high. Worse, I still had the Galactic key in my possession. He waved
for the men to hand over a vac suit to me as well. We both got into them while the Skrull bridge crew stared with their hindmost eyes.

The crew was, naturally enough, made up of aliens. The Skrull
looked like spindly spiders with hard shells and wizened monkey-faces. They were an odd race that hired out as starship crewmen to dozens of worlds. In that way, they were like us. Skilled labor was their trade good just as Earth’s had long been mercenary troops.

Once we were suited up, Claver ordered Centurion
Dubois to send every man they had to their modules on lock-down. Until that happened, the Galactic wouldn’t step out of the ship.

Dubois
whistled. “What cowards they can be. I suppose after a thousand years of extended life they get that way. I’ll do it, but it’s an insult.”

“Seal the Skrull crewmen inside the bridge as well,” Claver said.

“Oh come now, their species is as harmless as a bunch of housecats!”

The Skrull watched us as closely as they watched their instruments but said nothing. Skrulls rarely spoke to aliens like us. They kept to themselves and performed their hired duties as crewmen. I had no idea what they thought of us. Probably, they figured we were something akin to feral beasts. I got the feeling they were an orderly, peaceful race. In contrast we must have seemed like a species of rabid dogs.

“Your opinions may be correct,” Claver said, turning to his broken tapper as if to operate it. “I’ll report them to her excellency immediately. Centurion Dubois, I’ll need your full name and a designation number to complete my report concerning your refusal—”

Centurion
Dubois began to sputter. “Come on, Claver! I’m not
refusing
—look, just tell her it’s already done.” He turned on his heel and began barking orders. Claver looked on sternly, staying in character.

Soon, the ship emptied. Every Germanica legionnaire was safely tucked away inside a module like a hamster in a cage. Only the group that encircled the empty pinnace remained free and armed.

Claver took care of the color guard next. When he finally made his move, I have to admit the man was ruthless and swift. He walked to the console that managed the vacuum controls. Without a moment’s hesitation, he took down the field that kept air inside the hangar deck.

The skrulls eyed him, and a few chittered a comment—but they didn’t interfere. They were here to transport crazy humans to battle. What we did to our own kind was our own business.

Down below on the hangar deck, men were sucked out into space, screaming until there was no more air in their lungs. They twirled away into the blackness and soon stopped struggling.

I watched the consoles seeing their eyeballs swell and their blood boil in their veins as the zero pressure environment interacted with their chemistry.

“Was that necessary?” I demanded.

Claver threw up a cautionary hand. “Stop crying over them. They’ll get revives eventually. If we die now—we’re permed.”

“Okay, but why did you pull the whole color-guard nonsense in the first place?”

“Two reasons. First, it makes the entire situation more believable and keeps everyone’s focus on the pinnace with the Galactic inside. Secondly, they’re bound to have dropped a few weapons onto the deck on their way out.”

“Ah,” I said, catching on. “That’s why you made sure we put on vac suits.”

“Right, let’s go.”

I followed the mad man I’d allied myself with back to the hangar deck, and we indeed found a few working snap-rifles. I stopped him as he went to pick one up.

“Hold it,” I said, my pistol placed against his skull.

“I shouldn’t have let you walk behind me,” he complained.

“That’s right.”

I took a snap-rifle, and we left the rest where they lay. We headed back toward the modules.

“What’s next?” I asked him. “You can’t possibly hope to fly
Minotaur
back to Earth.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t think you can talk your way past everyone in Hegemony.”

“I suppose you’re right. We’ll have to fix the situation here.”

Frowning, I kept close to him. My newly acquired snap-rifle was loaded, and the safety was off. My finger hovered over the trigger. I thought this might well be the moment where Claver decided his “bodyguard” was more trouble than he was worth.

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