Terminus (Fringe Worlds #1) (13 page)

Chapter 16

The rest of the trip – which only took a few days – was notably unremarkable. True to his word, Captain Henry had Maker’s sidearm returned to him, for which the latter was grateful. And, although he saw Kepler in passing on one or two occasions, their paths never really crossed again. (Maker chalked this up to Henry maybe having a chat with his young lieutenant about letting his emotions affect the performance of job duties.)

He also saw Dr. Chantrey several times. Apparently, she was going to be utilized as a behavioral scientist when it came time to parley with the Vacra.

“Encounters with at least two military vessels have resulted in unexpected casualties,” she’d said when Maker asked her about it. “Hopefully, my training will help us avoid any type of skirmish should we locate them.”

Maker found that to be unlikely, but kept his thoughts to himself. He’d only had a brief encounter with them, but in his estimation the Vacra were a violent and vicious species. That being the case, he intended to be fully prepared. Part of that preparation meant having a conversation with a particular member of his unit: Edison Wayne.

Maker’s squad spent much of the transit time in a secure ready room that had been made available for their use. In addition to strategy and tactics, they devoted considerable resources to studying a holographic representation of Terminus, learning about its topography, atmosphere, and the like.

It was on their next-to-last day aboard the
Mantis
that Maker finally approached Wayne, catching him in his cabin shortly before their regular briefing time. Upon being invited inside, Maker wasted no time explaining what he wanted. Using his p-comp, he brought up a holographic image of a small personnel transport vessel.

“This is a dropship,” Maker explained. “It’s what we’re being allowed to use planet-side while we conduct our mission.”

Wayne nodded, staring at the three-dimensional image as it slowly rotated, showing him all angles of the ship in question. It was far from the latest model and had clearly seen much better days, but appeared as though it would hold together well enough for their purposes.

“She appears to be in decent shape,” Wayne commented. “At least capable of the type of recon we’ll be doing.”

“You don’t have to mince words with me,” Maker said. “You won’t hurt my feelings; it’s not
my
ship. It’s a piece of crap.”

Wayne gave a slight shrug of acknowledgment. “As you say, sir.”

“I actually wanted something a little more formidable, but that jerk Browing says this is all he can spare.”

Actually, Browing had made it clear that – after the issue with the modified gun – he had concerns about Maker’s judgment. That being the case, he was wary of letting Maker use a ship with imposing weaponry.

“The long and short of it,” Maker continued, “is that I think the potential for danger on this mission is being underestimated. That being the case, I feel we need to boost the firepower and defensive armament on this craft. Is that something you think you could do?”

The question caught Wayne a little by surprise. He had been spending some of his free time sorting through items being sent to the ship’s disposal bin, and his first thought upon seeing Maker at his door was that someone had reported him. Relief flooded through him, and the corners of his mouth turned up into a smile.

“Of course,” Wayne said. “Shouldn’t be a problem to come up with some design modifications along the lines of what you want.”

“Good,” Maker said. “Get with Adames. He’s already started making some changes, but this kind of thing really isn’t his bailiwick. I know you’re busy, so just give him the specs when you’re done and he can do the work.”

“Yes, sir.”

Maker gave him a slight nod, but then continued staring at Wayne in an odd manner, as if trying to figure something out.

Wayne grew slightly uncomfortable under the scrutiny. “Is there something else, sir?”

The question seemed to snap Maker out of his reverie. He frowned slightly, and then – mind made up – brought up another image on his p-comp, only this time he kept it on the computer’s screen rather than projecting it holographically. He held the computer out so that Wayne could see the display.

“Do you know what this device is?” Maker asked.

Wayne went bug-eyed and let out a low whistle. “Yes, sir,” he answered after a moment.

Maker didn’t say anything, merely stared at him. Wayne continued ogling at the screen, eyes darting around the picture displayed, but eventually he felt the weight of Maker’s gaze.

Wayne seemed to painfully tear his eyes away from the screen to glance at Maker. “Was there something else, sir?”

Maker said nothing, but his eyes cut to the screen briefly, and then returned to Wayne. The younger man looked baffled for a moment, then his eyebrows shot up and his mouth fell open.

“You can’t mean…I mean, you don’t want…” Wayne shook his head in disbelief.
He can’t possibly want…

Wayne took a moment to compose himself. “I’m sorry, sir. There’s no way I can build that. Not only is it illegal–”

“It’s okay,” Maker said, clapping him on the shoulder before removing the image from his p-comp. “I wouldn’t want you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. But, if not the device itself, could you construct an activation key if you had the schematics?”

“You mean a trigger,” Wayne answered, almost nervously. “No sir. I don’t think I’d be comfortable with that either.”

“Understood,” Maker said, nodding. “I’ll see you in the ready room.”

Maker thanked Wayne for his time and left.

*******************************************

The last day on the
Mantis
was merely more of the same for Maker’s group, with further review of the mission. One difference from their previous time in the ready room, however, came via a self-invitation from Browing to give them a personal overview of the geo-political situation on the planet.

It annoyed Maker to have his team and time hijacked in this manner. But, much to Maker’s surprise, Browing – who was accompanied by Dr. Chantrey – did a more-than-adequate job, starting with a discussion of the different factions vying for power.

“There are more than twenty different species all laying claim to Terminus,” Browing said to Maker’s squad, who sat around a large conference table. A large, three-dimensional image of Terminus slowly rotated above the center of the table. “Each has a liaison assigned to represent its interest. I, for instance, am here on behalf of the human race.”

“Twenty?” Adames repeated. “That seems like a lot of races to be sparing over a hunk of dirt in the middle of nowhere.”

“At one time there were over fifty,” Browing countered. “Over time, some negotiated away their stakes, others gave up their claims, and so on. Eventually, we expect to whittle the claimants down to one – humanity.”

“So what you’re really doing here is negotiating,” Diviana said. “You’re seeing what it will take to make your alien contemporaries give up their claim.”

Browing smiled. “We’re seeing what it will take to make them
peaceably
give up their claims. Where these types of conflicts were once decided with arms and troops, they are now determined via diplomacy. Which is one reason why we don’t want any of you shooting up the place and creating an interstellar incident.”

“What’s the rest of the population like?” Maker asked.

“There are no sentient lifeforms among the indigenous plants and animals,” Dr. Chantrey said. “Still, there are thousands of species from various parts of the galaxy on Terminus at any point in time.”

“Many of whom,” Browing added, “are the typical scum you expect to find this far out. Outlaws, bandits, and the like.”

“You don’t do anything about them?” Wayne asked in surprise.

“My mandate is first and foremost to secure this planet for the human race,” Browing said. “After we own the place, then we’ll focus on fumigating.”

“But what about local law enforcement?” Wayne asked.

Browing sighed. “There’s a composite group of uniformed officers made up of the races seeking control here. However, their jurisdiction is extremely limited. It’s basically confined to the ten square miles that comprise what’s known as the Diplomat District – the areas that you and I would deem ‘civilized.’ It’s where I, and all of my counterparts representing other races, live and work.”

Maker snorted. “Funny how the only cops on the planet choose to work solely in the region occupied by bluebloods.”

“As I said,” Browing continued, unperturbed, “
they’re a small force
.
Having them do much more than police one district is too difficult. With the sheer scope of criminal activity in a place like this, they’d be overwhelmed.”

“What about things like murder?” Fierce asked. “Surely they investigate those?”

“Only if it’s an open-and-shut case,” Browing said. “For instance, if there were witnesses – and witnesses who’d be willing to testify, I might add, which there never are. Other than that, they just record the act, as well as collect evidence and statements. In short, our officers try, but they simply lack the manpower and resources to be truly effective.”

“So it’s basically a Wild West show,” Wayne concluded. “A lawless frontier.”

“Welcome to the Fringe, tenderfoot,” Adames said, clapping Wayne – who was sitting next to him – on the shoulder.

“It’s not entirely anarchic,” Dr. Chantrey added. “Once you get this far out from the Hub, there’s a sort of rough justice that becomes the standard – a stand-in for the rule of law.”

“Rough justice?” Wayne repeated. “What does that even mean?”

“It means that most people here handle their own disputes, without resorting to the law,” Maker said. “If you cheat someone, they’re going to come after you. If you kill someone, don’t be surprised if his family or friends come looking for revenge.”

“But not everyone out here is a crook,” Dr. Chantrey said. “Many are honest people looking for a fresh start.”

“Along with criminals looking for fresh victims,” Diviana said. “Speaking of which, we’ll be the new meat – faces they’ve never seen before. Won’t people be suspicious when we start snooping around?”

Browing shook his head in the negative. “Our arrival at Terminus is timed to coincide with that of a large passenger ship. As Dr. Chantrey said, people are constantly coming to the Fringe to seek their fortune, start over, etcetera. There will be a huge influx of individuals headed down to the surface, so you will be among thousands of new faces popping up all over the planet.”

“Sounds good,” Adames said. “Any idea on where we should start conducting our recon?”

“Based on physical descriptions and images provided,” Dr. Chantrey said, “our scientists – entomologists, really – believe that the Vacra will be most comfortable in a dry, arid region.”

“Bearing in mind the location of the merchant they’re dealing with and the range of the average planetary vehicle,” Browing said, “we believe you can narrow the scope of your recon efforts to this area.”

As Browing spoke, a yellow, amoeba-shaped region on the Terminus image became magnified.

“You call that narrow?” Adames asked. “That’s got to be a million square miles of desert.”

“More like two,” Loyola interjected.

“Then I’d say you’ve got your work cut out for you,” Browing remarked unsympathetically, earning him a glare from Maker.

“Why do we have to go after them at all?” Snick asked, speaking for the first time since Browing’s briefing began. “If they made purchases from our allies, can’t we simply wait in the vicinity until they come to retrieve their merchandise?”