Kingmaker, page 13
part #1 of The Gods That Gamble Series
His suit was slowly covering the wound. What skin on his arm wasn't black from the burn was being engulfed in red smudges.
On the brink of the defining war of the Galaxy, Johnny lay on his back in the Martian desert at a crash site, staring up into the blue and orange sky, as his skin burned and his blood began to boil.
Chapter 39
Kingsmen: War Without a Leader
Mars
"He said to make the call if he wasn't back by now..." Ramir paced around a desk inside an office of Kingmaker Tower. On top of the desk, lay Jack, his knees bent upward and his arm hanging off the side, tossing a pen into the air and catching it over and over.
"So, we make the call," Jack said. He caught the pen in between two fingers and changed to balancing it on his knuckles. "King said if he wasn't back, to make the call. He isn't back, so we make the call. It's that simple."
"No, no, no," Ramir said. He stopped, turned, and paced in the opposite direction around the desk. "Francis. We need to tell Francis. I'm sure he has a way."
Jack flipped the pen off the back of his knuckles. He spun his legs off the front of the desk, caught the pen, and sat upright. "Alright, Shadow. Why? Why are you not willing to follow a direct order?"
Ramir stopped. "Because the Boss might not be okay."
Jack pinched the pen in-between his thumb and forefinger and rocked it back and forth. "Is that really the reason?"
Ramir chewed his lip.
Jack wagged the pen at Ramir. "You're afraid." He hopped off the desk and straightened his lapels. "Of leading. Of the decision-making. Of conducting a war without a leader. And you're – it's natural, so no need to look like I'm beating you up – you're delaying what you should be doing with every excuse you can."
Ramir bowed his head in thought.
Jack continued. "But that isn't you. That's your brain. Your brain is a puzzle-solver, you – and by you, I mean your will – need to point it at the right puzzle to solve. The puzzle to be working on is not whether or not to obey a direct order from Johnny King."
Jack placed two fingers under Ramir's chin and flicked it up. "It's what we're going to do about the damned Terrans in the sky."
Chapter 40
Maria: A Friend
1 Day Outside Mars Orbit
Nearly twenty four hours behind the fleet now approaching Mars orbit, was a small command ship – sleeker, shinier, and by all means, sexier, than the massive, bulky GAF Enforcement ships that were to bombard Mars. It was important that the ship be sexy, sleek. It was Investigator Class: it was about showing the advancement of the law's technology. Not to frighten the criminals of the Galaxy with weapons of power, but to intimidate them with powers of intellect, of discernment. The women and men within this ship were clever, shrewd, savvy. The most calculating criminal would fear their reputation, fear their notice, fear their mind.
Most of all, they would fear their Nose.
The ship was named Ness, and its crew, like its namesake, were fabled.
It was on this ship, that Maria Paige-Zuckerberg had completed her training.
Maria came into the Captain's office, and slammed a helmet on his desk. "Do you see this?"
The Captain was leaned against the window with his eyes closed. His head was pounding. He raised himself and turned around, sighing. His eyes, red and weary, looked over the helmet. "What is it, Investigator?"
"This," Maria tapped her finger on the top of helmet's shell, "is obsolete! Ramirez was wearing it like it was no big deal. Said it was his dad's when I confronted him."
The Captain's eyes widened, his eyebrows raised, and his mouth drooped. He gave Maria a tight nod, then wordlessly pulled open a drawer in his desk, pulling out two small glasses and a spherical thermos. He unhinged the top of the thermos and poured two small coffee-shots.
Maria cleared her throat, unsure at first if the Captain was serving coffee or booze. After a sigh of relief, she extended a hand out.
The Captain downed them both. He smacked his lips, sighed, then looked up at her. "Okay, so what is the real problem?" He slumped into his chair.
Maria blinked. "An obsolete helmet. Do you know how much of a security risk—"
The Captain held up a hand. "Now, I'm sure you didn't become a Nose just to get right back into fussing over scuffed boots and unpolished badges." The Captain cleared his throat and straightened up his shoulders. The color had returned to his eyes. "How are your, uh," he tapped the side of his nose.
"My implants are fine," Maria snapped.
The Captain's eyes raised. "Well, what the hell is wrong, then?"
Maria looked off to the side of the room, then sighed. She straightened herself, returned his gaze to the Captain, and said, "When I took the job, I didn't know there'd be so much...this." She stayed standing in attention, lingering to mock the pose.
The Captain chuckled. "More like a lot of this." He made a circle with one hand and jammed the thumb of his other hand into it. "I feel you."
Maria laughed, and her shoulders relaxed.
The Captain smiled. "Your ready to be done with your training, aren't you?"
Maria looked down briefly, then met the Captain's eyes again. "Yeah, Cap. I was hoping for more of a leadership role. I miss it. I want a team again — I need a team again."
The Captain chewed the thought. After several chews, he gave a soft grin while scrolling through the screen on the sleeve of his uniform. "You know, the work has been piling up." He kept scrolling. "Wouldn't hurt if I ended the shadowing period early. With such a big caseload, who could argue?" His voice was low, talking to himself.
He tapped the screen. "Here." He flicked the document at Maria's direction.
She looked at the back of her arm, then... right. She scrunched her nose, and an implant in her retina displayed the information.
"A missing raconteur, few weeks ago." The Captain said. "Just now called in. Employees thought she was on a case but she missed her check-in."
Maria's face twitched – the left nostril, the top of the right cheek, the corner of her lips — she looked strained, neurotic, as she sifted through the information.
The Captain laughed. "You know, half the reason we have the shadowing period is so you don't look like an allergenic sniffing dust while going over docs."
Maria ignored the joke. Given another week, her facial muscles would soon be trained, strengthened, and most importantly, subtle. "What was she investigating?"
"Oh, you'll love this." The Captain kicked his boots up onto the desk. "A friend of yours."
Maria raised an eyebrow, puzzled. "A friend?"
The Captain nodded. "Mm-hm."
Oh. A friend. "Johnny King."
The Captain chuckled. "I've got paperwork stacked up past my dick and I know you've always had a hard-on for the guy." He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. "Sounds like your gig."
Maria blinked. "Where was she last seen?"
"A small raconteur satellite orbiting Earth. Thing is, PZ, with her disappearing near Earth and her lead being on Mars, I'd say this investigation spans across two planets. Do it right, and you're looking at a career."
Maria beamed, silent, her head swimming. She saw herself commanding her own ship, arguing politics in an office, taking gaffers on raids. Testifying in court. Putting fat cats and big wigs behind even fatter bars and cages and…
"Is that a yes?" The Captain said.
Maria blinked hard and the document left her vision. She straightened back to full attention, and gave a deft salute — three fingers extended, palm facing outward, fingertips just touching the browline — and addressed her superior. "From sands to seas, Captain, I accept."
Chapter 41
Kingsmen: My Job
Mars
Francis, Jack, and Ramir sped through Cloud One in a silver car. The car tore away from the spiraling traffic of the Grid and sailed through the city, cutting through alleyways and sweeping over the tops of towers.
Jack played with his cuff. He hadn't touched the back of his left elbow in nearly six hours. Ramir stared out the window, biting his lip.
Francis humphed at the screen on his arm, tapping commands in hard, resounding pecks.
After several minutes of silence – save tap! tap! Tap! — Francis swung his fists into the car seat and shouted "Fucker!"
Jack and Ramir looked at him.
"Fucker," Francis said. "That idiot, fucker."
Ramir's lip quivered. He started to question, but Jack held up a hand.
"He's the CEO of the goddamn world," Francis ranted on, "and he decides to fuck off into the desert. At the brink of war, no less! And for what?" He threw his hands in the air. "To prove a point? To stretch his fucking legs? Over a girl who's probably dead?" He rested his arms on his knees and cracked his knuckles. "If only his fucking brain was half the size of his hubris." His jaw clenched, the words simmered from his lips.
Ramir held his hands up. "Hey, take it easy. Let's not slander the boss' name."
Francis' fury was fixed in his eyes, and his eyes were now fixed on Ramir. "He's your boss. He's my friend. I can talk about him however I fucking want; hell, it's my job to."
Jack held up a hand. It was enough for Francis to deflect his fury to the ground.
Jack clapped Ramir on the back and confirmed, "They go way back."
Chapter 42
King: Bone and Sinew
Crashsite, Mars
With bone and sinew, he crawled the desert. His suit hung on his skin, lifeless and irrelevant.
No machinations to assist him, with muscle and with fiber he dragged his body. Inch by inch, the sands scorched his flesh, but not his will.
His blood boiled just underneath the surface of his suit, his skin, his flesh, his will. His mind raged: it raged with the fury only known in those with the biggest view of the world, and the smallest.
I am a King, he said, crawling the desert.
No machinations to assist him—
I am a King.
With muscle and with fiber—
I am a King.
His blood boiled, his mind raged—
I am a King.
With bone and sinew—
I. Am. King.
———
Johnny's hand grasped metal. He hoisted himself onto his elbows. Before him, the crimson armor of a slain cultist laid, half-consumed by sand. While the sand around it radiated heat, the armor was cool to the touch. Johnny tore at the sands and pulled at the metal, unearthing the remnants of his kill. If the suit was cold, it was active.
The onyx-black mask rose to the surface. Johnny brushed the sands away, and the teal ring flickered.
King wanted to see the face of his enemy. He clutched his bolter in one hand, and with the other he dug his fingers at the base of the mask, and tugged. No give. He cranked his elbow and wrenched. The muscles from his elbow to his fingertips seared. He yelled, tightened his grip, and dug his elbow deeper.
With a pop, and a spark, the mask lifted.
King shoved the bolter into the opened helmet. "I am taking your suit's power. Make a move and I'll finish what the sands have started."
The face inside stared into the sky, eyes agape, unblinking.
King withdrew his bolter and reached inside the helmet. The cheek gave way, soft like a sponge. He pressed higher up, at the cheek bone. It, too, was spongelike and gave way, no change in firmness. He dug his thumb into the spongy flesh and an inch in, he felt solid material. He dragged his thumb up over the eye, and sank it in. The eye, as well, had flesh like sponge, with a hard material beneath. It was like the sponge-skin was framing a large structure of—
Metal. This was no human.
King drew his bolter again. He looked the corpse up and down. No organs, which meant he wasn't sure if it was down for good. He found the wound – a hexagonal component in the center of the torso was exposed, hollowed out by the bolter rounds. The component itself seemed undamaged, but a tube of wires that led up into the rest of body were burst and strewn. King reached in and yanked the component from the stomach of the cultist. Another arterial tube of wires flowed from the bottom of the component into the groin of the machine.
King traced the tube, and dug his hand deep into the machine until he wrapped his fingers around a rectangular object, radiating warmth. He fished it out: radiating blue, it was encased in a layer of glass, then plastic, then metal. Whatever these things were, they still needed chem-nuke like the rest of the Galaxy.
He reached into the inner pocket of his blazer and pulled out a device identical to the one in his other hand, save the blue glow. Tossing the dead battery into the sand, he slid the new one into his suit pocket.
His suit whirred to life.
Chapter 43
Kingsmen: Acting Authority
NIS Headquarters
"So, what is this thing?" Ramir asked the room. Francis stood next to Nexus and his Communicator Prime, Dia, both in orange dress uniforms. Jack was at the head of the circle, as everyone peered at the a bright, glass orb in the middle of the room.
Nexus glanced up from the console. "Ancient technology."
Ramir snorted.
Francis turned his head toward Ramir. He was not smiling.
"You're serious?" Ramir asked.
Jack waved a hand in between everyone, brushing away the small talk. "What are we waiting for?"
"Forgive us," Nexus puffed his chest, "if we need a few moments to ponder whether or not to commit the first act of war in half a millennium."
Francis held a finger in front of Nexus. "Johnny's out, Nexus." He pointed to Jack. "Not only is he one of the four triggers, he's Acting Authority."
Nexus' eyes widened.
"You and I don't have the same history, Nexus," said Jack. "Don't expect things to be friendly."
"Hold on," Ramir said, still stuck thirty seconds in the past. "Ancient technology? Like before the Reset?"
The rest of the room broke into smiles, then erupted into laughter.
"Yes," said Francis. "Like before the Reset. The planets are littered with the stuff if you're not afraid to dive or sift."
"It's been underground," Nexus said. "The company's hidden it for nearly fifty years, and we've spent the last eight months fitting it with modern casing and propulsion. It's weaponry has remained untouched."
Francis said, "Should still be as deadly as they used to make 'em."
Ramir tapped his foot for several seconds. "So," he said, popping up like a lightbulb, "It's a machine!"
Francis and Nexus groaned.
"It's okay," Communicator Dia smiled wide at Ramir. She bounced on the balls of her feet and said, "I'm just as lost, too."
Jack snapped his fingers, then straightened his lapels.
Nexus grimaced, then nodded. "Dia, what's the update on the fleet?"
"Two carrier Marlins, with no telling how many barges in each. I'm guessing twenty thousand soldiers between the two, not counting crew. Each has its standard guard of frigates and ketches." She held a screen in her hand, eyes studying it. "They are in posturing position, nearly three-hundred miles above surface. All ships within a fifty-mile radius of each other, except there are a few command ships about a day behind them."
"They're waiting for orders," Francis said. "Command probably wants to be closer."
"That'd be nice," Nexus said. "But they could pull the trigger at any time."
Jack nodded. "Let's beat them to it then. Everybody ready?"
Francis and Nexus nodded. They all placed their hand on the orb. A light traced the outlines of their palms and fingers tips. A voice activated. "Sufficient Authority enacted. State command confirmation."
The whole room looked at Jack.
"Tomorrow will be a new day for humanity. The right of the Martian people to plot their own course." Jack straightened his shoulders, then exhaled. "Command: Launch Executor Prime."
Chapter 44
Maria: Spoons and Sinks
1 Day Outside Mars Orbit
A screen appeared on the Captain's desk. "Captain Halsey, sir," a young redheaded woman appeared on the projection.
The Captain lifted his boots from the desk. Maria walked around and joined his side. "Commander Nimitz," the Captain nodded.
Nimitz spoke. "We're in Posture position, sir, scanning the planet as ordered. However, it seems Mars has fired a warning shot."
The Captain raised an eyebrow. "A shot?" He laughed. "Cannon fire? A used car? Spoons and sinks?"
"A missile, Captain." Nimitz gave the news unflinchingly.
Halsey shot up. "What? An Arbiter? Raider? What kind of missile?"
"Size of a cruiser," Nimitz said. "Looks homespun."
"Spoons and sinks, then." Halsey said. "Look, I'm not worried about the missile – our shields can likely take it. I'm worried what that means for our troops when they hit the ground. We are going to expect higher casualties."
"Well, it's a good thing we brought thirteen thousand of them, then," Nimitz smirked. "Isn't it?"
Halsey cleared his throat. "Realign your objectives to be more aggressive than defensive, and give a damn good speech before launching the barges."
"Sands to seas, Captain." Nimitz saluted.
The Captain returned the salute. "Sands to seas, Commander."
Maria looked at Halsey. "Should we be worried?"
Halsey shook his head. "War strategy. When you are weak, appear strong." He poured himself another coffee-shot. "Just like King. All theatrics and politics. Not an ounce of bite in the bark."
Chapter 45
King: Blackout
Crashsite, Mars
"N'cole, are you there?" Johnny lay on the grounds, sand sweeping his vision. It had been nearly three minutes since his suit repowered, but he had yet to hear from his AI.
A few beeps — an arpeggio — then a voice, "King, I'm here. Assessing."
