THE PRIZE: BOOK TWO - RETRIBUTION (12 page)

“Well, there’s the army you asked for, Richard.”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t expecting the simulation to be as real as this.”

“They had to be battle ready, Richard.”

“I know, but…”

“But what?”

“I have the feeling we shouldn’t tell them it wasn’t for real.” Clayborn Marks looked at him a moment and nodded.

“A few already know.” He mused. “So the word will finally get out.”

“True, but most won’t believe it.”

“You don’t want to take away their feeling of price, I take it.” Richard nodded.

“Nothing to gain from that, and it might have the opposite effect.”

“Okay, I’ll go along with that. So, we hand out promotions and medals as if it were the real thing, right?”

“Right.”

* * * * * *

Judy Menendez woke up and rolled over, feeling warm and cozy as she pulled the covers up over her shoulder. The moment she did, she suddenly sat up, touching her shoulder remembering her she’d been wounded. Pulling back the lace nightgown, she looked at her shoulder, expecting to see bandages, or at least a scar, but the skin was smooth and free of blemishes as it had been before.

“What the hell?” She looked around the room in wonder. She should be in hospital, or in the barracks at least, not this comfortable looking bedroom with lace curtains and flowered bedspread. Just then, the door opened and in walked Sargeant Ben-Sharon and General Marks.

“As you were.” Sharon barked as she started to get out of bed and stand to attention.

“Good to see you awake and well, Menendez.”

“Um… me too… I guess.” She looked at their smiling faces a moment. “What happened?”

“Nothing much. We won the battle and the war is over. For now at least.”

“But... but… that’s not what I meant… sir.”

“I know it isn’t, but I’ll let Lieutenant Ben-Sharon explain that to you, Sergeant.”

“Sergeant… But I’m a Corporal…”

“I know. I just dropped by to congratulate you and hand you your stripes and the commendation.”

“Commendation?”

“Yes, you deserve it, but I’ll let Isaac explain it all to you. Congratulations, Sergeant.”

“Um… thank you, sir.” Clayborn Marks saluted the young woman in the bed and left all the explaining to Ben-Sharon.

“Ben… Isaac! What the hell is going on?” Taking his beret off, he sat down on the side of the bed.

“Did you mean it?” He asked, giving him a dark look.

“Mean what?”

“That kiss you gave me up on the plateau.” Judy blushed and pulled the bed covers up. “Was if for real?”

“I hope so, girl. Otherwise you’re in a lot of trouble.”

“Wait… trouble? What the hell is going on? I… we should be dead!”

“Well, we are sort of, but first I have to tell you a story, and get you to promise not to tell anyone.” She cocked an eyebrow at him.

“A story?” He nodded. Slowly, and as carefully as he could, he told her what the war with the Thrakee was all about. As expected, she got mad, glaring at him with her dark eyes.

“So it was all for nothing!” She yelled, jumping out of bed. “Of all the sneaky, underhanded, low life, deceitful pricks in the world, I had to go and fall in love with the lowest, bottom feeding, scum sucking…” Forgetting the lace nightgown didn’t hide much of her naked body underneath.

“Did you just say fall in love, Judy?” Ben-Sharon asked in a soft voice, looking a little bemused.

“…prick… what? No… I didn’t say that… did I?” Sharon nodded, seeing her nibble her lower lip, frowning and blinking her eyes. “Oh shit!”

“So, you love me, right?”

“What… no… I take it back. Love you! I should kick the living crap out of…" She stuttered to a halt as Ben-Sharon came and stood very close to her. “Oh shit.” She muttered.

“Too late to take it back Judy, because I love you too.” He took her face in his hands and kissed her.

Chapter Seven

Telluria Prime

Sitting back in his comfortable chair behind his desk Director Markoff had similar thoughts as the Professor as he contemplated the wall screen and its view of Earth from space. His latest check of incoming starships, both naval and civilian told the same story. Penn’s virus program was still running, and he was still no closer to rediscovering the location of that accursed planet. After his meeting with Professor Veolan he’d had a research team go through the imperial archives, especially the older documents that still hadn’t been transcribed to an electronic medium and they did so immediately. What he’d found once he’d sorted all the data into its proper order disturbed him even more. The Professor had been wrong in one respect, the documents turned out to be a transcription of earlier records from another species entirely, one who was no longer a threat to anyone. They too had discovered Earth some 100,000 years ago but had seen it more as a potential of supplying troops for their never-ending wars with surrounding Empires. They’d taken the indigenous humanoid race and had genetically re-engineered them into soldiers; they had then let the humans breed until there were sufficient numbers to harvest and train into front line troops. All went well for some time until two events occurred at the same moment. First, the Ormlec were annihilated when the humans turned on their masters, and second, a catastrophic eruption of a volcano on Earth wiped out 90% of the human race after they’d all returned to their home planet. Subsequent research by several cultures suggests that fewer than 20,000 humans remained alive after the eruption and its aftereffects, and assumed incorrectly that they were no longer a threat. Fools that they were, they’d never considered the genetically engineered humans will to survive, or their tenacious nature. The historical data had also answered the question of the human instinctive primeval hatred of reptiles, as that’s what the Ormlec were, being the prehistoric ancestors of the Thrakee. It also clarified the charming fairy tale story of their ‘garden of Eden’ and the story about the reptile, or snake causing their expulsion. It made sense that the altered humans could never go back to being children of the forest as they’d once been. That idyllic life had been forever stripped from their genes, and it condemned them to perpetual cycles of war. Just the thought of them getting off planet in their own ships with weapons to equal the Empire sent a small shiver running down his back. Now, it became even more imperative he find that accursed planet and finish them off once and for all, before his nightmare came true. Even with all those dark thoughts, an idea struck him, one that hadn’t occurred to him before, and on impulse, which in itself was unusual for him, he mentally searched for Bema Greta’s comm number and made the connection.

“Director Markoff… I… I’m pleased to receive your call.” From her startled expression, she was anything but pleased.

“Please be assured Administrator Bema, this call is merely for information.” Bema then saw something few people had ever seen. Director Markoff smiling.

“I… I see. How may I be of service Director?” Markoff knew how most people felt when receiving a direct call from him, and attempted to put her mind at ease.

“I was very impressed by your honesty the other day when the last Director had his unfortunate… terminal medical condition.”

“I was glad to be of service, Director.” Greta Bema felt her sphincter tighten so much it started eating the seat cover.

“Just so. My call is in the nature of an enquiry into your department’s efforts to ascertain the location of the planet Earth.” For a moment, the sharp faced woman’s features blanched. It was delightful to see her take a deep breath before answering.

“I’m sorry to report we’ve had no luck reconstructing the database, other than the general region of where the planet might be.” If she had ever wondered what the seat cover she was sitting on tasted like, now she knew. It was in the back of her throat.

“Just so, and as I suspected. The person who infected the system did an adequate job of ensuring his accursed planet wouldn’t be located quickly. To what end I’m not sure. He has to know we’ll find it eventually… no more than five years, and then what?” Greta thought it odd the Director Markoff would impart so much information to someone in her position.

“I couldn’t say, Director.”

“Come come. You have a keen mind Administrator Bema. What would you surmise his objective was in hiding the location of his planet, even for such a short period of time?” A slight frown pulled at her brow, and he could see her relaxing slightly. This was an intellectual challenge, and something she enjoyed exercising her mind on.

“If I were to speculate…” She hesitated, cocking her head to one side slightly as if unsure of the answer she should give.

“Please, speculate away. I’d like to see if someone else can come to the same conclusion I did.” Markoff lied as he leaned back in his comfortable chair, enjoying the play of emotions across her face. His unfailing ability to read people told him she was relaxing, but still suspicious that this was some sort of a verbal trap. “As an aside, are you free for dinner tonight, Administrator Bema?” That question took them both by surprise, as he’d never intentionally thought to ask her, or anyone to have dinner with him.

“Dinner?” She asked, as if unsure what that was, feeling that tightening sensation in her rear end again.

“Yes, dinner, here at the palace.”

“I…I don’t know what to say… I never thought...” She drew a deep breath. “Yes, I’d be delighted to have dinner with you, Director.” Not that she was in a position to refuse, as one, he’d placed her in the position of being the new administrator of the Imperial Startography Institute, and two, he was the Director of the dreaded Imperial Security. On the other hand, she felt a certain attraction to him, rather like a bird mesmerized by a snake.

“Excellent. We’ll speculate together over dinner and a bottle of wine. Shall we say at the eighth hour this afternoon? I’ll send a car to pick you up.”

“Why… yes, that would be perfect.”

“Please do not concern yourself with the men I send with the transport. They are merely there to serve as your protection and nothing else. They will be at your service until you arrive here.” Anyone having two IMPSEC agents arriving at their front door had a right to be nervous. Hopefully his words would reassure her of the opposite.

After disconnecting, Markoff stood and strode back and forth across his office to work off the sudden rush of energy. She was far from being the most beautiful female on the planet, but to him, she had a certain appeal others didn’t. She was sharp, and above all, honest. Even knowing her life might be in danger should her answers to his questions be unsatisfactory, she’d answered truthfully, which was a rare thing these days. At no time had she hidden behind some half baked excuse for her failure to reconstruct the database, or find the location of the planet Earth. Few Var, and most certainly all Surl would have lied. It did surprise him that he’d asked her to dinner, something he’d never done before, but the reason eluded him. As the day progressed, he looked forward to the coming dinner with high degree of anticipation, and for once, didn’t have two incompetent, larcenous junior officers taken out and immediately shot. Instead, he’d drained their bank accounts, demoted them to private, and had had them shipped off as lowly guards to a penal mining colony. In retrospect, it might have been kinder in the long run to have had them shot, since working with Esterians would be hazardous to their health in several respects, sexual diversions being one of them. As usual, his private dining room was immaculate, and if the servants were surprised at having to lay out two places for dinner instead of the usual one, nothing showed on their blank faces. His implants kept him informed of the progress of the ground transportation, and the progress of the three individuals through the side entrance of the palace to the door of his living quarters. He rose as the door opened and in stepped Greta Bema.

“Good evening, Administrator Bema… may I call you Greta?” He asked as he took her evening cape.

“I… um… yes, please do Director Markoff.”

“Please, no titles tonight. Please call me Goff.”

“Err… yes, Goff.” She answered, a bit bewildered by the exchange of given names.

He held her chair out and she carefully sat, smoothing her one and only evening gown over her bottom as she sat. To her, the gown seemed cheap and out of place here in the palace, surrounded as she was by utter luxury. If he noticed, the Director said nothing, by look or word, and for that she was grateful. Taking his seat, a slave poured the wine, something straw colored and light, and he took a sip and nodded. Most of the wonderful meal was taken up with light talk about this and that, mostly forgotten the moment the words had faded away. After that, he led her to a small sitting room, at least by palace standards, where he poured a dark liquor into two thumb sized glasses before taking a seat opposite her.

“This drink is called Cognac, and was once produced on Earth. If for no other reason, I’d like to find Earth again so I can obtain more of it. Take care, it is very um… potent.” He smiled as Greta took a tiny sip. Her face lit up with surprise, and she coughed slightly.

“I can see why. It’s very… um… stimulating.”

“Good. Now to business,” Markoff smiled as he said this, just in case she misinterpreted his words, “your speculation on why a certain person would want to hide Earth for such as short period of time as five years.” Greta, sat back and began to relax, as her wild speculation as to the reason for this dinner vanished.

“I did check, and Earth’s years are about the same as ours, so there is no advantage there, correct?” She asked.

“Correct, and so?”

“It occurred to me that the only reason to erase the data is to gain time to do something.”

“Again, correct, but what something?”

“The records indicate that their military forces were decimated by imperial troops.”

“True, as were their offensive nuclear weapons, and pretty much anything else that could hurt us.”

“We smashed their cities flat, destroyed their manufacturing facilities, and left them with nothing to rebuild with.”