Clone World (Undying Mercenaries Series Book 12), page 13
“Hold on. What are you talking about? How do you know what we’ll be facing?”
I made an easy gesture with my free hand and sipped my gin with the other. “I don’t know what we’ll find—not exactly. But it stands to reason it will be superior to our force. That much is obvious.”
The word “obvious” was a trigger word. I used it when I wanted to piss people off. Just try it yourself sometimes, it always works. The word implies that if another person doesn’t agree with you, they must be some kind of an idiot.
People usually got mad when I pulled that trigger, and Galina was no exception. She put her left hand on her hip and pointed with her right toward the door. “Get out of here. You don’t know anything. You’re fishing, and I won’t fall for it—not this time.”
Sighing, I made a production of getting up off her couch. “If you say so, sir. I’m sure you won’t regret a thing when we make planetfall. What do I know about Claver and his clone armies? Surely you’ve been out there to his planet a dozen times—more times than I have.”
I took two steps toward the door. Then she kicked me in the butt.
I turned around, surprised. The kick hadn’t hurt, but she’d meant it to. She was fuming.
“You haven’t been dismissed yet,” she snapped.
“Uh…” I said, thinking over the last thirty seconds. “Actually, I think you ordered me to leave.”
“Shut up and let me think.”
Galina started strutting around angrily, talking to herself. I watched and sipped my gin. It tasted better with each sip.
Finally, she stopped pacing and stared up at me. “Well?” she demanded.
I was caught flat-footed. She’d been talking a lot while she did her little march-around thing, but I’d been staring at her curves. I hadn’t heard a word.
“Sounds good,” I said loudly.
“No, no it doesn’t. You fool—are you even listening?”
“Uh…”
“Pour me another drink and tell me whatever insane scheme is in your brain today.”
Happily, I complied with her demands. Soon I was back on her couch and talking freely.
“You see, it just came to me yesterday. When I realized that Winslade and Armel had both been recruited by Claver and that you knew about it, the whole thing became obvious.”
“Stop using that word. What’s obvious?”
“First off, Claver doesn’t do things haphazardly. Even more telling, Winslade barely cared when we executed him. Don’t you think that’s strange?”
“No, not at all. The man is vile. He’s a traitor to Earth.”
“Yeah, yeah, sure. I get that. But why would he be on this ship then? Why didn’t Claver just kill him back at Central and print out a new Winslade on his home planet?”
She blinked at me twice, absorbing this.
“You have a point. Claver doesn’t care about Galactic law. He doesn’t care about making copies. He makes thousands of them.”
“Exactly. He already had Winslade in the bag, but yet he was having him fly aboard Legate, bringing him out here from Earth at the head of a zoo legion. Why do that? Why not just transfer Winslade directly?”
She looked thoughtful. “Perhaps there are others aboard who are working for him?”
I snapped my fingers and pointed at her. “Now you’re getting into the mindset I’m living in. You see, Legate is playing the part of a delivery boat.”
“You’re saying he wants us to bring Varus to his homeworld? That’s madness.”
“Maybe… or maybe it’s just like Claver. He’s a tricky bastard, the very worst. He wouldn’t reveal himself to me, to you, to Winslade and God knows how many other officers without a good reason. Not without feeling very confident he could handle all the firepower we represent.”
Galina began to look concerned. “You think he’s prepared for us?”
“Does he know we’re coming?”
“I guess we have to assume he does. Winslade was in his employ, at the very least.”
“Exactly. So he knows we’re coming. In fact, he’s got spies everywhere. He knows exactly what he’s up against.”
“And yet… he invites Legate. Two legions… He’s fearless—or at least prepared.”
“Bingo! That’s where my head is right now. Can’t you see it? Claver doesn’t make rookie mistakes. Old Silver, that’s what they used to call him. He’s an evil genius. Remember fighting him down on Blood World? He ran a legion very smoothly back then.”
“He did…” she said, and she handed me her glass.
I looked at it questioningly.
“Fill it,” she said.
I obeyed, and Galina stared at the star maps that covered her back wall behind her desk.
“What’s he got out there?” she asked the wall. “What’s he got that has filled him with such confidence?”
“We’re playing delivery van,” I said. “That’s what I think. Winslade, others—they’re aboard, waiting to defect the moment we get to our destination. Winslade might have planned to take his whole legion with him.”
She turned to me in alarm. “All his officers? Defecting? But why would they do it?”
I shrugged. “You were the one that was upset that he didn’t offer you the job. What were you expecting?”
She glanced down with maybe a rare hint of shame. “I don’t know… wealth. A slice of his planet. Maybe he’d make me a duchess or something.”
“Would you have taken that deal?”
“No!” she insisted. “Of course not! He and his band of rebels will all be hunted down like dogs in the end. Slaughtered in the dirt. I just…I guess I was insulted that he didn’t even offer.”
“Ah!” I said, grinning again. “Now I know why he didn’t make the offer!”
Her face puckered up. “Why?”
“You just said it! You wouldn’t have taken the job. Claver knew that. He only makes sure-fire deals. He doesn’t offer people things they’ll refuse—not unless he’s desperate.”
“Hmm…” she said, and I could tell she liked that idea.
She’d been thinking Claver considered her to be incompetent. My fanciful version of Claver’s thought process was far more appealing.
In truth, I knew Claver thought Turov was a disaster. She was good at gathering power and getting promoted, but she wasn’t any kind of tactician. It wasn’t that she lacked the brains for the job, but rather that she couldn’t stop thinking of herself. She cared more about personal gains than she did her own legion. That tended to lead to defeat.
“What you’re saying makes a lot of sense, McGill,” she told me.
“Damned-straight it does. Claver would never pass up the top officer of Legion Varus for a flunky like Winslade. You and I both know that in our heart of hearts.”
I grinned at her, and finally, at long last, a tiny smile flickered on her face. She hadn’t smiled at me like that since I’d arrived at her door today.
We had our third drink, and we talked about what we could do if we were heading into a trap. We came up with wild ideas that became increasingly unworkable with each shot of gin we consumed.
At last, without any conscious signal, I knew the time was right. I kissed her, and she kissed me back with passion.
“I missed you…” she said, straddling my wide body. “I’m glad you came back and weaseled your way into my office again.”
“Me too…” I heard myself saying. Strangely, those words might be the only shreds of truth I’d spoken since I’d wandered into her presence today. The rest of it had all been conjecture.
Galina and I made love like two teenagers. It was funny, how she and I could be spitting venom one minute and climbing all over each other the next. I had yet to figure out how our relationship worked, but then, I’d never devoted much time to thinking about such things. Most of the time I just go with the flow.
By the time we were finished and suiting up again, our tappers had lit up with a dozen important messages and calls.
“I sure as shit hope everyone can’t break in and force my tapper to open a channel,” I remarked.
She laughed. “No, I rolled back that shitty update.”
“It was bad. What if you’d called me last night, and I didn’t answer? You might have seen something you didn’t like.”
She glanced at me reproachfully. “Like the sight of you with some fresh recruit in your bunk?”
“I don’t date recruits.”
She snorted. “What about that girl, Sarah?”
I blinked twice in surprise. I hadn’t thought she knew about that. Damn. The girl was sneaky.
“Well… that was years ago, and it was after we’d mustered out.”
She twisted her lips into a pout.
I’d blown the mood, and in order to fix it, I touched her shoulders lightly. I tugged her tight uniform into place, and she let me do it.
“There have to be more traitors aboard,” I said. “How are we going to smoke them out?”
She looked me up and down. “Can I trust you?”
“Cross my heart and hope to die.”
She nodded slowly. “Good… You’ll probably get your wish.”
Then, she told me her plan. The one she’d been hatching while we were entangled. It was bold, and I was pretty impressed that she could think clearly like that during such intimate moments.
Me, I couldn’t have done it. Complex thoughts never occur to a man while he’s with a lady he really likes. We’re just not wired that way. We think like apes when we’re with a woman, we really do.
-23-
For the next several weeks, much to the chagrin of staffers like Gary, I became a regular item in Turov’s office. We took turns hatching half-assed tactical plans and making love on a daily basis. It had to be the best time of my life in the legions, at least with respect to my experiences on Gold Deck.
Each night at around eight pm I was promptly booted out of her bed and sent to stay with my troops in the modules. That was okay with me, but I did have to endure the scorn of a half-dozen pissed-looking hens who were stationed down there. Della, Kivi, Natasha and even Adjunct Barton—they were all twisting-up their lips and glancing sidelong in disgust. Somehow, they’d gotten wind of my extended visits abroad, and they’d soured toward me, one and all.
I didn’t care. After all, a man could only be bothered with the weighty task of keeping one woman happy at a time under the best of circumstances. Even that much was often beyond the scope of my admittedly weak romantic skills. I figured as long as Galina was happy, I should be happy too.
When the big day came at last, I found myself standing on Gold Deck, watching it all happen. Our plans went into action the minute we arrived at Eridani 77. The trick was we didn’t come out of warp and immediately approach the sixth planet, the farthest from the central sun. Instead, we stayed in warp and circled around to the far side of that bright-white F-class star.
Captain Merton, commander of Legate, wasn’t happy with these last-minute changes. Turov had to pull out her operational command orders on him. As the senior officer, a real Tribune leading a human legion, she’d demanded the change to the flight plan. What was really bothering the crew was she hadn’t let anyone know about the navigational juggling until after we entered the star system. Only a few navigators and glum-looking helmsmen even knew what was happening.
As Turov’s chief accomplice, I got to stand on the bridge with her and the crew. That was kind of cool. Usually, when I was summoned to this holiest of holies—the nexus of Legate and the inner sanctum of brass aboard any transport—it was a bad thing. The old McGill tended to get himself into trouble as a regular part of life. Being hauled up to Gold Deck generally meant punishment of some kind was in the works—but not today.
“How long until we get to Claver-land?” I asked the helmsman excitedly.
The helmsman wasn’t a half-bad looking woman, but she was Fleet, and that meant she was too good for a grunt like me. Still, such barriers had never kept a man like myself from smiling and admiring.
“Same as the last time you asked, Centurion,” she said. “We’ll come out of warp soon, but we’ll still be an hour out from planetfall.”
“Hot damn! I’m sick of being cooped up on this ship.”
Turov glanced at me, and I met her glance with a grin. This was all part of the act, of course. Just in case part of the bridge crew was dirty, and in the employ of our friend Claver, I was given the job of blathering about things that we didn’t actually plan to do.
Standing just a bit too close, I looked over the helmsman’s instruments. It was relatively easy to understand the big ship’s controls. The icons were all Imperial standard, and I’d even flown a vessel like this one briefly in the past.
“Do you mind, Centurion?” she asked.
I hadn’t even brushed up against her, but apparently, I was invading her personal space.
I took a half-step to the right, giving her some room to breathe. “Sorry, Commander. I’m just looking forward to the next step.”
She frowned at me. “Anything I should know about?”
“Don’t tell Turov about my big mouth,” I said, leaning in close again. “But I’m leading a commando raid. A teleport-suit blitz on Claver’s headquarters the minute we get into range.”
She blinked once, then twice as she absorbed this false information. “Really?”
“That’s right. I’m watching your console for the perfect moment to suit-up.”
She bit her lower lip. “I see.”
After that, she seemed distracted, but I didn’t care. I watched her fine hands on every control. With deft motions, she brought the big ship out of warp something like twenty minutes later.
We glided into the Eridani 77 system from an unexpected direction, moving in from deep space like a prowling shark.
“What’s that?” I demanded suddenly, pointing a big finger at her console.
The helmsman had just reached out nonchalantly and opened another screen. A series of glowing sensor options greeted her.
“We have to ping our surroundings,” she said evenly. “There could be asteroids, or—”
“Are you shitting me? Tribune!”
Galina stepped around to the helm, frowning at both of us sternly. “What is it?”
“Are we supposed to contact Claver’s spaceport and ask about the weather?” I asked.
“Certainly not. Maintain radio silence, Commander. Do not release a single pulse.”
“But what if—” the helmsman began.
“What if we run into a chunk of ice, or a rock? Then, Commander, we all die. Is that clear?”
“Yes sir.”
Both the helmsman and I stared at her big board, but Galina didn’t leave. She watched us instead, and I got the feeling she didn’t approve of the way I was hovering over the commander.
At last, she wandered off to scold the crewmen who were operating Legate’s sensor arrays. She demanded everything that wasn’t purely passive be switched off.
“You’re starting to get on my nerves, Centurion,” the helmsman told me.
“You wouldn’t be the first, sir.”
She gave me another odd glance, but she didn’t say anything else. I saw the lines of her cheek muscles bulging. She was annoyed.
Despite this, I clung to her station, watching her every move. Galina and I didn’t trust anyone farther than we could spit—not half that far, in my case. After all, I was a gifted spitter.
We glided close, but before we’d cut the distance in half, an alarm sounded.
“Hull breach,” the computer said. “Hull breach. Hull breach. Hull—”
It just kept on going like that, and I found the sound of that robotic voice set my teeth on edge.
“What sector?” Turov demanded.
“Aft, sir. Something hit us in the fantail.”
Galina and I exchanged concerned glances.
“If it was a rock,” I said, “it would have hit us in the nose.”
“Right,” she said. “McGill, take a unit to the aft decks. Locate the breach and report back on the situation.”
The helmsman frowned at me as I left her side. “Aren’t you going to teleport—?”
“All in good time, my lady.”
I left her puzzling over that one while I rushed toward my module. My troops met me halfway and soon we were tramping through the passages toward the back of the big ship. By the time we got there, Graves was leading another unit of legionnaires at a jog.
“I thought you were some kind of a golden-haired pet today, McGill,” Graves said.
“That’s right, sir. I’m a dog, and I’m in this hunt.”
Graves gave me a sidelong glance. He didn’t know what my angle was, and he hated that situation. He and his team broke off, taking another passage toward the rear of the ship.
My unit trotted another two hundred paces, if that much, before Legate suddenly did a somersault. At least, that’s what it felt like.
Without warning, we were thrown off our feet. We were tossed into the air and cracked a mixture of skulls and helmets on the ceiling.
“Helmets buttoned down!” I roared. “Visors locked, advance, double-time!”
My people picked themselves up and flew after me. A few weren’t moving, but I didn’t have time to check on their status.
We’d lost gravity, but that didn’t stop an experienced legionnaire. We propelled ourselves with gloved, clawing hands and scrabbling feet.
We’d been slowed down, but not stopped. Graves contacted me a minute later.
“McGill, there’s no pressure in the next section. It’s sealed and they’re calling for an evacuation. You’ll have to take up a defensive posture—”
“No-go, Primus. I’ve got my orders. I’m going straight to the breach.”
He didn’t answer right away, but when he did it was without anger. “Turov knew this was coming, didn’t she?”
“No sir, but we’ve made plans for a contingency like this.”
“How the hell could Claver be hitting us so soon? We came in from an unexpected angle of attack. We’re too far out to get a fix on, and we’re gliding in silence. How could—?”
