Undying Mercenaries 2: Dust World (37 page)

“Very well,” said the Prefect at last. “It is within our charter to extend mercy in these circumstances, but I must point out that you are only inconveniencing my staff further with these pointless delays.”

“I’m so sorry, sir,” Drusus said. Even as he spoke, he made circular motions toward me, indicating I should proceed.

I was sweating now. Whatever the Nairbs had in mind for us, it couldn’t be good.

“Investigator,” I said into the com link. “If you don’t want to talk about Della, maybe you’ll be willing to discuss your own survival and the survival of your ship. The Empire will destroy it if you don’t comply immediately.”

The Nairbs squawked and shuffled on their flippers. “That statement was unauthorized,” complained the Prefect.

“I’m so sorry,” Drusus repeated. “This man is merely an enlisted interpreter. He’s not fully versed in the—”

“Investigator? We’re coming in there. Surely, you can see the Nairb ship. You told me you knew about the Empire. The squids knew about it, too. You can’t be completely ignorant concerning the vast power you face. I would advise you—”

“No one is going to take or damage my ship!” said a voice suddenly.

I paused, blinking stupidly. Drusus looked as shocked as I was.

“Is this the Investigator speaking?” I demanded officiously. I decided to channel the Nairbs with their bad attitude. It seemed to be getting a reaction.

“We’ve been listening to your prattling demands for better than an hour now. I’m switching this box off.”

“Investigator! Don’t do it, please! I’m the star man, the fellow who came to your caverns and met with you personally. I forged a truce between our peoples that—”

“A truce? That arrangement was nothing but a ruse. The new ship is ours, and as soon as we figure out how to fly it you’ll all regret your actions.”

“Threats?” the Nairb Prefect said excitedly. “The humans have threatened us. That casts an entirely new light on the matter. Take note, scribes. New charges must be drawn up.”

Drusus had his eyes shut in horror.

“Investigator,” I said. “You have to be very careful what you say now. All our lives are in jeopardy. I’m not threatening you or your ship. I’m trying to help you; to help both of us out of a bad spot.”

The Investigator was quiet for several seconds, and the Nairbs moved restively on their pillows. I began to wonder if he really had shut off the com box.

“Twice now, McGill, you used the possessive form when referring to the cephalopod ship. Do I take it that Earth accepts our ownership of this vessel?”

I had no authority to do anything, so I eyed Drusus. He looked at me, and nodded.

“Yes,” I said. “We’re willing to make that concession. But you have to help us out. If the Nairbs don’t agree, the opinions of Earth mean nothing. You understand that you and I and every being in this galaxy is a citizen of the Empire at best. If not, you’re nothing more than an animal: An insect that might be crushed at any moment.”

“Hyperbole,” complained the Investigator. “Idle threats invented to intimidate us and force us into giving up a superior position.”

I almost laughed. “You’ve got a few hundred fighters locked up in a ship you don’t have any idea how to operate,” I said. “That is hardly a superior position. But let’s not get into all that. Let’s horse-trade.”

“What?”

“Let’s make a mutually beneficial deal, sir. Talking can hardly do any harm, and it might do some good.”

“I find your premise flawed, but I’m willing to listen.”

Turning to Drusus, I offered him the com-link.

“You’re doing fine,” he said. “Just keep him talking. He has to come out and allow the Nairbs to inspect that ship.”

I winced. That was a tall order.

“Investigator?” I called. “Will you allow a Nairb delegation to board your ship and take a look around?”

“I thought we had a truce aligning ourselves against alien invaders, McGill.”

“You broke that truce when you attacked us,” I pointed out. “But we’re willing to reinstate it—and you will maintain control of the ship.”

“I understand something now,” said the Investigator. “You were chosen to infiltrate my people because you’re the most manipulative of your kind. I see it all now. You pretend to be of low rank and of little consequence. Your own people even performed an elaborate pantomime operation going through the motions of chasing you through our tunnels—”

“Sir—” I tried to break in, but the Investigator just kept on going.

“You wormed your way into my sanctuary, attempted to impregnate my daughter—oh yes, I’m fully aware of that—and now you attempt to edge me out of my ship—”

“
Please
sir,” I shouted. “Listen to me! We’re all the same! We’re all humans, and we need to work together. There are so few of us out here among the stars. We’re a tiny population circling two tiny star systems.”

“Ah, and now you provide me with a fresh emotional appeal! Yes, we’re colonists from Earth. But we’ve been gone too long from our ancestral home world to count ourselves as one with you and your legions. Unlike you, interstellar mercenaries that—”

The Investigator continued his rant, but everyone had stopped listening. The Nairbs were barking like a pack of furless seals.

“A
colony!
” shouted the Nairb Prefect. He was quite agitated. “There are few undertakings possible by a subjugated species that can rival such an act! Further, you’ve attempted to hide this High Crime, accruing an additional charge. The transcriptions of this inquiry must be carefully gone over anew. Each count of perjury, obfuscation, conspiracy and contempt will be individually cited. I must say, Tribune, we must thank you for insisting we listen to this insane individual in the cephalopod ship. Together with your spokesman, he’s brought many new dark deeds to light. You have greatly aided our prosecution, and the reckoning is becoming sweeter by the moment.”

Tribune Drusus walked over to me and switched off the com-box. The Investigator was still complaining until the signal died.

The Nairbs wouldn’t listen to anything else we had to say after that.

“We have no need of further evidence,” their leader told us. “The accused ringleaders must stand here and await the final verdict.”

They recused themselves in an adjoining chamber to discuss our fate privately. I watched them file out with a sick feeling in my guts. When they were gone and the hatchway had clanged shut with a booming sound that reminded me of a tomb slamming shut, I turned to the Tribune.

“I don’t think that went very well,” I said.

Drusus didn’t even look at me. The hatch swung open into the adjoining passage and revealed the rest of the officers. They’d been listening to the proceedings. They buzzed among themselves dispiritedly.

Primus Turov, however, walked up to me and put a hand on my shoulder. She had to reach way up, as she wasn’t all that tall, and I was more than two meters in height in my armor.

“You’re a real piece of work, McGill,” she said, marveling.

“Why thank you, sir.”

“Did you really screw that colonist’s daughter?”

“Uh…it wasn’t quite like that. She was no innocent flower. She’s more like a feral cat than a farmer’s daughter. In fact she killed me herself—twice.”

Turov laughed bitterly. “I bet she had damned good reasons to do it.”

-36-

The delegation filed back in about half an hour later. There were fifteen Nairbs all told. I guessed they were the same ones as before; they all looked alike to me.

But this time there was a single Galactic as well. I was slightly disappointed as I recognized his type. He was spidery, with a central body mass that reminded me of a black widow. He had six legs—or were they arms? It was hard to tell, as they all ended with a hand. These hands were used intermittently as feet or to manipulate objects.

Behind me, the hatch opened and ten human officers walked in. Every one of them was a primus, a leader of an entire cohort. Along with Drusus himself, this was every piece of brass Legion Varus had. They’d all been brought in to hear the verdict.

The head Nairb spoke up first. His title was Prefect, and he never gave us a name. I knew his type—all pompous, officious attitude. Nairbs were all pretty much the same both in personality and physique. They were fussy aliens who loved details. Born pencil-pushers and desk-jockeys, my father always said—even though no one used pencils anymore. To me, the Prefect was just another green sack of gelatinous flesh.

The Prefect started barking. Before he got through the first minute of his speech I was annoyed and bored at the same time.

After a flowery address concerning loyalty and commitment to the Empire, extolling the virtues of well-served patronage within our local chapter of the enforcement bureau, the Nairb announced his verdict. We were all to self-execute, legionnaires and colonists alike.

I could not recall a less happy moment in my lifetime. I’d been killed plenty of times before, but I’d never heard a verdict handed down that required
everyone
I knew to die.

We were all going to be permed. That’s what this order meant. There wasn’t going to be anyone else around to revive us. No ships from Earth would come out and rescue us. Even if they did find our bones someday, they’d have to be crazy to revive us after they heard about what happened here on this dusty rock in space.

“Relay the order to all your sub-commanders immediately,” the Prefect told Drusus in conclusion. “Chief Inspector Xlur is here to serve as a witness for Galactic Justice.”

I nodded to myself. Chief Inspector Xlur
… I’d personally killed this alien twice. He had revival equipment of his own, naturally, being a privileged Galactic. He didn’t seem to recognize me, fortunately. If he had, he’d probably want to add an additional count to humanity’s long list of crimes.

My commanders looked from one to another sheepishly. I guessed no one wanted to go first.

Taking in a deep breath, I reached over and plucked Primus Turov’s sidearm from her holster. She looked shocked, but then watched me in fascination as I placed the muzzle of the weapon under my chin.

Everyone fell silent, except for the Nairbs, who were grunting in anticipation.

“Just a second,” I said. “What about Earth? If we all kill ourselves now, is this matter at an end?”

“That is no concern of yours,” Inspector Xlur said. “Obedience is required. That’s all you need to know. Proceed, we are recording this incident.”

I pulled the weapon away from my throat. Primus Turov reached down to my gauntlet and tried to take her gun back. As I was wearing heavy armor and she was in her dress uniform, I barely felt the tug of her hands. Squeezing slightly, I applied enough pressure to the grip of the gun to prevent her from taking it back.

“McGill,” she growled in a low voice, “don’t you dare do anything crazy. Earth could hang in the balance.”

Ignoring her, I frowned at the aliens. Sure, I knew what she was talking about. If we shot a few of them, maybe they’d rule that all Earth was too vicious and humanity had to be put down like rabid dogs. But if these guys were going to kill us all anyway, why should I obey them? Maybe we could warn Earth. Even if Battle Fleet 921 had already been given the order, it might be a decade or more before they got around to disciplining us. If the game was over for humanity, I wouldn’t mind living a little longer before I cashed in my chips.

“I want to appeal the verdict,” I said.

There was a general hissing that went up from the Nairbs. I didn’t care about them, it was all up to the Galactic now.

“Denied,” Xlur snapped.

“Denied?” asked Drusus, stepping forward. “On what grounds? Imperial law stipulates that—”

“Due process has been suspended. This locality is currently understaffed. No appeals can be submitted.”

Drusus shook his head. “Well then, suspend the sentence. We’ll comply when the judicial system is operating again.”

“Just as I expected,” said the Galactic Inspector. “There’s not a single law-abiding citizen amongst the lot of you. I’ve seen this sort of behavior far too often along the galactic fringe: No acceptance of centralized authority, dangerously individualized thought processes, and no concept of hive-mentality.”

“What are you saying, Inspector?” Drusus asked.

“That you humans have no respect for your betters. Worse, you’re all cowards. You’re driven entirely by self-interest and individual life-preservation. Disgusting.”

I couldn’t take it any longer. I figured he’d already ordered us to die—how much worse could it get?

Stepping forward, I addressed the alien. “We’re not cowards, sir!” I said.

“McGill,” hissed Turov, but I ignored her.

Everyone looked at me. I have to admit, most of them looked sick. I wasn’t totally sure if that was because they’d just been told this was the end of the line or if it was because I was talking for them.

“High Justice,” I said, addressing the Galactic directly. “We’re not cowards. We’re quite the opposite. I would put a thousand Earthmen up against a like number of anything in this neck of the Galaxy. We’d win. I know this from personal experience.”

The creature made an odd, huffing sound. The translator turned this into staccato laughter.

“You know
nothing
. Great events transpire all around you. In the Core Systems there are…disturbances. Millions of ships move like raindrops. And yet here you creatures are, oblivious and helpless. You embarrass yourself in your ignorance.”

“That might all be true, sir,” I said. “But Earth will not self-execute any more than Legion Varus will. It’s just not in our nature. Now, if you don’t like us, and you have the power to remove two of our worlds from existence, then we’ll become extinct. But we’ll fight you to the end, both legally and physically. This ship you have—I think we can take her from you right now.”

The Galactic turned itself to face me more fully. “You threaten us? After your death has been sanctioned? I can hardly—”

“Just a moment,” asked the Nairb Prefect suddenly. It looked at me. “Being, did you say
two
worlds?”

“That’s right. This is a colony world, and it stands with us in addition to our homeworld.”

“A confirmed confession!” shouted the Nairb in triumph. “You have committed so many violations as a race, I can scarcely credit it. There will be an accounting, and I will review the vid many, many times in—”

“We didn’t violate
anything
,” Turov said suddenly. She seemed to be suffering from my disease—she was no longer able to keep her mouth shut now that all was lost.

“You implicated yourselves,” the Nairb said. “Colonization is strictly forbidden under the articles signed by your species—”

“The colony ship left Earth
before
we signed the treaty,” she said. “This system was colonized before we even knew the Empire existed!”

The aliens began buzzing amongst themselves. Finally the Prefect spoke again. “You can prove this?”

“Yes, if it matters,” she replied.

“Why was this information withheld?”

“We were ordered not to speak, and no one asked us about it.”

The Galactic turned off the translation box. Together with the Nairbs, he began discussing the situation. I looked around into the confused faces of my fellow humans. We didn’t know what to make of it.

Finally, the aliens turned the translation system on again so we could understand them. Instead of the Nairbs, the Galactic himself spoke with us.

“This situation is highly unusual and disorderly. The Nairbs tell me they suspect you are correct in your statements. They were at a loss to understand how colonists could have come from your planet to this world undetected now that the Empire had annexed the region. If they had arrived prior to annexation—that would explain the discrepancy.”

“Good,” Drusus said quickly. “Then we’re not guilty.”

“Not of that particular crime, no,” admitted
Xlur. “But you are far from innocent. Normally, I would have already scheduled your demolition.”

We stiffened in horror. ‘
Demolition’ was a term the Galactics didn’t use lightly. They meant that our species would be erased from the universe utterly. In their view,
they
owned Earth, not us. We were like animals living on fallow acreage. If we didn’t serve them well, we would be erased; and the world would be ‘replanted’. The Galactics thought of themselves as something akin to farmers. They managed their worlds with careful, callous hands. Humans were viewed as noisy chattel. Just as a farmer might decide to slaughter his livestock and plant something new on his pasture next season, they had no qualms about slaughtering us.

“Is there any way we can make ourselves useful to the Empire?” asked Drusus.

I had to admire the tribune’s calm calculation. I was in the mood to kill the lot of them and hope no one found out about it for a while. With luck, we could still blame it on the cephalopods and let them be erased instead.

“Certainly not,” said Xlur. “Why would a zero-level population be awarded further responsibility?”

There was a strange sound. It took me a moment to realize it had come from the Nairb Prefect.

“Inspector,” the Nairb said, “I’m forced to correct you in this instance. The species in question is not zero-level. They are, in fact, a level-two civilization—technically speaking.”

“What?”

“They passed from zero to one due to a series of achievements.”

“Achievements? Absurd.”

I heard the sound again. I thought now that it was the Nairb’s equivalent of clearing his throat.

“I know it sounds surprising, sir, and much of it is based upon regulatory technicalities but nonetheless—”

“Present your case.”

“Yes, Inspector. There are three criteria for statutory promotion to level-one. Seniority in the region, a proven trade good and a successful defense of said trade good.”

“Seniority? They’ve only just joined.”

“Ah, but a careful inspection of local star systems places them high in the ranking. High enough, anyway.”

“These novel circumstances could only occur so quickly out here on the fringe of the fringe.”

“Correct, Inspector.”

“Level-two…I see…”
Xlur said thoughtfully. Two of his six hands touched his bulbous body. He seemed to perform this gesture when he was thinking. “Once they achieved level one, level two is a given now that we’ve determined that they occupied two worlds before becoming a member state.”

“Exactly.”

Drusus waved for attention and bowed when they looked at him. “As the local representative of a level-two civilization,” he said smoothly, “how can I better serve my Empire?”

“One more thing,” the Inspector said. “Two worlds require two trade goods. What is your second commodity, human?”

Drusus sucked in a breath and held it for a few seconds. Everyone winced. We knew he had nothing.

“As we’ve only just been awarded this status officially, we’ll require the normal allotment of time and budget to rectify this discrepancy.”

“Time yes, budget no,” Xlur snapped.

“Done,” Drusus
said, not wanting to push his luck.

“
Unfortunately, there’s another matter we must discuss,” Xlur said. “I hate to do this, but my diligent secretaries are about to remind me I have no choice. I’ve been charged with finding a local species that would qualify for a difficult role in local governance. Although it will no doubt haunt my internal processes, due to regulations and your new status, I’m forced to consider your civilization for the job.”

“We’ll take the position, sir,” said Drusus quickly.

The Inspector seemed amused. “Such eagerness to please. Why haven’t you exhibited this pleasant trait before? Could this be related to the threatened demolition?”

The tribune
stood tall. “We’ve simply been misunderstood.”

“Very well. Are you willing to accept the burden of local Enforcement Services? Battle Fleet 921 has been called away for…extended duty in the Core Systems.”

Drusus only blinked once. I had to hand it to the guy, he knew when it was time to be agreeable.

“We absolutely and immediately accept,” he said. “It sounds like a wonderful opportunity.” Then, without missing a beat, he c
ontinued with: “Ah…what exactly does our new burden of ‘Enforcement Services’ entail?”