Mech 2 Page 19

  But the first murder wasn’t perfect. And since she was, after all, a perfectionist, she wanted to know to make it perfect, to make the experience feel—complete.

  Before all of that, she needed to get rid of the body. The murdered man was something people oddly called a human robot, one of the hapless enlisted personnel who worked underneath the great ship.

  Zuna had known, within minutes of first meeting him, that this man needed killing. He was irritating. He hummed constantly, very loudly and out of tune. He hummed while he shoveled. He hummed while he rolled loads of black dust to the chutes and emptied his wheelbarrow. He even hummed on his breaks, up above on the safe side of the radiation shield. Zuna cursed her audio sensors then, because she had very good hearing, and she could not escape his endless, tuneless, humming.

  The seventh time the humming man reentered her dusty, sparkly world below the ship, she had already decided she was going to kill him. She wasn’t angry with him, not exactly. She simply wanted him to stop humming. And to ask wasn’t possible for her. Zuna was too polite for that.

  So, she beat him to death with her shovel, when no one else was around. She drove the shovel so deeply into the loud-humming man’s back that it exploded out the other side, from his chest. She let go of the shovel handle with her gripper, and he slumped, twisting around onto his side. His ribs were exposed—gray-white and wet-looking—where they had popped from his chest with great force. His dead face bore a frozen look of almost comic surprise.

  Zuna naturally felt a great relief. The infernal humming had finally stopped. She nearly made a mistake then. Her first thought was to run away from the scene. But she stopped herself. She realized vaguely that she couldn’t let the other people and mechs who worked down here find the corpse.

  Gripping the shovel again, still embedded in the body, she steered the corpse across the sifting black dust to one of the chutes. She stuffed it down there, and soon it vanished into the depths of the asteroid. No one really knew where the chutes went. They were kilometers deep, some of them. Old tubes that had been dug when they’d first built this base and begun constructing the great ship. She was fairly certain no one would go down there to find the dead, humming human robot.

  She tramped off to find a new tool. She really should scoop out the dust the hummer had clotted up with his worthless blood.

  It was on her way up through the array of spraying nozzles and decontamination vacuums that she spotted something wonderful. There it was, mounted on the wall. The box was red, and identified itself as fire equipment. Inside, she could see through the transparent cover, was a hose, a medical disk, and an axe. It was the axe, with its red handle and hooked blade, that caught her optics. The shovel had been wrong, somehow. Like the hummer himself, the shovel grated on her nerves. That was not how she was supposed to do it. A shovel was not the proper murder weapon. She liked the axe.

  Zuna passed the axe, and tried to not to fixate upon it with her optics. But that was hard for her, because to her the axe was a thing of beauty. Reaching the supply depot, she requisitioned a new shovel, claiming the old one had broken, which was true enough.

  “You seem to be in a high spirits today, Zuna,” said Lieutenant Karin Minard, who approved the new shovel and gave it to her out of the ship’s stores.

  “I am,” said Zuna.

  “Why is that, may I ask?”

  Zuna fixed her with twin, silvery optics. “I like it here. I feel—useful. I think I was growing stale back home. I’m happy to be doing something more important than feeding Senator Fouty’s cat.”

  Karin stared at her bemusedly. “That’s good,” she said.

  “I’ll be going back to work now, Lieutenant Minard.”

  “Okay. But don’t you want a break? Oh, and by the way, we’ve scheduled a check-up for you tomorrow as 0800.”

  “I feel fine. Really, I do.”

  “But I think we should check all your systems just the same. Okay? Even you must be under some effects from the radiation. We want to make sure you’re functioning properly.”

  Zuna hesitated. “Is my work substandard?”

  “No, no. Nothing like that. In fact, you’re keeping up with the combat mechs. Not even they have been exhibiting your—zeal for the work.”

  “Well then, I take it you insist on this inspection?”

  Lieutenant Minard breathed uncomfortably and hesitated. “I’m afraid I have to.”

  “Could you come for me at 0500 instead? That would be more... convenient.”

  “Certainly.”

  “Okay then. Bye now, Karin.”

  “Uh—bye, Zuna.”

  #

  After learning from the skalds that the Imperium were somewhere in the system, Droad decided to head back down to Nexus Command.

  “I’ll try to get them to raise the alert level,” Droad told Sarah, who rode down with him in the orbital elevator.

  “I can’t believe it’s happening all over again,” said Sarah.

  Droad looked at her, and realized she was distraught. This surprised him, as Sarah had always been one of the toughest people he’d ever met. In fact, he’d never met anyone other than Sarah, Bili and Garth the skald who had made it out of an alien nest alive.

  Unsure of their status, Droad made a slow, half-hearted attempt to embrace her. She hugged him fiercely, but then let him go. Droad reached out and clasped her hand.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “About the Aldo thing. That was a terrible way to learn about it. I should have talked to you. I should have tracked you down.”

  “Forget it,” he said. “Let’s move on. We have a world to save. Again.”

  She nodded. “I can only save my tiny part of it, Lucas. Should I tell Aldo?”

  “Of course you should tell Aldo. He’ll be quite an asset to your survival—in case things go badly.”

  She nodded again. “What about Bili? I wonder if I should try to get him up here again to the Gladius and head out to the next system. They are almost done repairing the ship, fixing the damage suffered at Garm. I so hate to do it though. It’s like erasing another year from his childhood.”

  “I think you should go. Just get out while you can.”

  “You’re that sure that they won’t be at Ignis Glace too?”

  Droad blinked at that. He really had no idea. What if the Gladius made it most of the way to the next system and received word that the system they were flying into was teeming with aliens? It was a dreadful thought.

  “You’ve got a point. The signal went out that way too. If it awakened something here, the odds are good...”

  “Okay. I’m going to stay. I’m going to stand my ground and fight them here. I’m not going to run and end up facing hopeless odds. At least here we have a real military. The Nexus is much stronger than it was on Garm.”

  “I support you decision, and I’ll do what I can to make sure the enemy never get down to you and Bili.”

  They stopped talking for a time, listening to the whoosh of the thickening atmosphere, which now slowed the elevator’s progress. The system worked very well, but took hours. Droad began wishing he had demanded a shuttle from the Gladius crew.

  A clanking sound heralded the approach of Rem-9. He brought them squeeze-bottles of refreshment. Droad had sent him on the errand so he could be alone, even briefly, with Sarah. She had not confessed any overwhelming love for him, so Droad felt disappointment, but he was resolved to protect her and everyone else on this world as best he could. He would do anything and everything. He did not want another slaughter on his conscience.

  The two humans took the drinks and sipped them. Rem-9 helped himself to a bottle of glucose and a squeeze tube of light lube.

  “I’ll take Bili and hole up somewhere,” said Sarah, “out in the Alps, maybe. Aldo will know a good spot, it’s his world.”

  “No doubt.”

  “What about Fryx? What should I do with him? Do we return him to the skalds?”

  Droad shrugged. “You can flush
him for all I care.”

  “Lucas! He is a thinking creature. Even if he is a little—unpleasant.”

  “Well, I would not suggest you take any special pains to help him. His people certainly don’t consider us worthy of humane treatment.”

  “I could just hand him over to the labs.”

  “Good idea.”

  “Bili will be upset.”

  “All kids have to get over a lost pet at some point. Keeping Fryx is like keeping a rabid howler in the house.”

  #

  Sarah gave him only the slightest peck on the cheek when they finally reached Nexus spaceport. Droad said goodbye stiffly. He was in a foul mood. What did that swashbuckler have that was so instantly appealing? Was a thug with a sword that much more interesting than a man who was engaged in saving his second planet? He tried with great difficulty to put all such thoughts aside. If he failed, there would be no more Sarah, Bili or Aldo to worry about.

  He considered his options. He had relatively few. He had an appointment that was only as good as the reach of a dead senator, which was to say it would run out of hydrogen powder very soon. He still had the Senator’s writ, in a blue envelope, but he had no idea if that would even be legally valid. Perhaps it would be considered so until the next Senate session, where they would no doubt choose a new defense chairman. It wouldn’t last that long if someone figured out he had it. As soon as they did, they would get someone else to sign something to overturn it.

  Droad sighed audibly. Rem-9 flipped his optics to check on him. Once satisfied the sound did not indicate he needed to do anything, the mech went back to scanning the environment for assassins. This made Droad smile. He found Rem-9 to be an excellent companion. If he could find a woman who was one tenth as loyal and dependable, he’d be set.

  Again, he had to stop his mind from chasing those ghosts. He had to stay focused. By the time he had refreshed himself with a plate of the local venison, which came from domesticated deer the size of elephants, he felt ready to face the bureaucrats in Nexus Command again.

  It was as he poured schlag, a thick, whipped creamy substance without sweeteners, over his venison that he came up with a plan. The plan made him smile. Yes, finally, he was thinking along the correctly manipulative tracks. He looked at Rem-9, who watched him with one optic and the restaurant with the other. He would have to get rid of Rem-9, at least temporarily, to execute this plan.

  “Captain.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “I think, when I go into Fleet Command I’m going to leave you in the lobby.”

  “Do you think that’s wise, sir?”

  “I’ve not found any assassins or made any enemies here, other than the skalds, perhaps. There are no skalds in the NC.”

  “May I ask why I must stay in the lobby, sir?”

  “Yes, well.... I don’t want to intimidate them. I don’t want to be seen as attempting to intimidate them.”

  Rem-9 paused for a moment, thinking that one over. Droad knew the mech would not give up on following him everywhere. It was all Droad could do to walk into the restroom alone.

  “There are other mechs around the NC, sir. There are marines and officers who are mechs. I don’t think the—”

  “You don’t take hints easily, do you?” asked Droad, interrupting.

  “Not when I don’t like them, sir.”

  Droad chuckled. “Very well. I hear-by order you to stay in the lobby. It should only be an hour or two. I will keep a handset nearby to call you if your services are needed.”

  “I acknowledge your orders. But I must insist my objections be recorded.”

  “Noted and agreed,” said Droad. “I will log your objections.”

  Finally, Rem-9 dipped his optics, his version of a nod.

  Droad got out a napkin and scribbled something on it. He signed it, then passed it over to Rem-9.

  “What’s this, sir?” asked the mech in confusion. His optics swiveled to get a better look at the writing. “Is this a clandestine set of orders?”

  “That is the logged record of your objections. You see? I signed it.”

  The mech studied the napkin for a few seconds, optics whirring. “I find your record to be substandard, sir.”

  “Noted,” said Droad. He speared a last bite of his venison, popped it into his mouth and paid the bill by flicking his thumb upon the tabletop. He dialed up a healthy tip and left.

  Rem-9 followed him, still holding the napkin in his gripper.

  #

  When Droad entered Nexus Command, there were some sidelong glances. A few people, he thought, rolled their eyes. He sniffed. That was how it was going to be. Already, he had become the crazy annoying guy on a monster hunt. Very well.

  “I have an announcement, everyone,” he said in a loud voice. “I’ve been talking to people on the Gladius and at a certain base on Crom. A base where there is an interesting construction project in progress.”

  He had their attention now. Already, a few staffers were on the move. One bustled over, probably to shut him up. That was the attractive Ensign Tolbert. The others exited various doors. They were probably searching for upper command personnel to come and shut him up. Several others, however, had stopped shuffling their computer scrolls and waving their stylus over the big boards. They looked at him, frowning. He could tell they were listening despite themselves.

  “I believe there will be a large attack against Neu Schweitz,” Droad announced. “And soon.”

  Joelle Tolbert partly occluded his vision. “Mr. Droad,” said the Ensign.

  “Inspector Droad,” he corrected her.

  “Yes, of course. This might not be the best way to present your theories of an invasion by the aliens that attacked—”

  “Who said anything about aliens?” snapped Droad, cutting her off.

  “That’s all you talk about, Droad,” said a Brigadier General from the back. There was a widespread chuckle throughout the room. The Brigadier approached Droad. He was a pink man with a smattering of white hair here and there. Each tuft looked carefully waxed and groomed.

  “I’m Brigadier Klaus Druzman,” said the man, not offering his hand. Droad didn’t offer his, either. “I’m in tactical command here.”

  “You sir?” asked Droad.

  The Brigadier’s nose lifted higher. He peered at Droad with unfriendly, slitted eyes. “We rotate tactical command. This is my week. You’re through here, I’m afraid, Mr. Droad. We’re very sympathetic to Garm and what happened there under your watch.... Tragic.”

  “I’m an Inspector and I have full access to military command installations.”

  “I’m surprised your status as an Inspector hasn’t been pulled yet.”

  “My appointment was made legally and is on-going.”

  The Brigadier leaned forward. Half his pink mouth smiled. “Perhaps you haven’t heard, Droad, but your benefactor—ah, passed on.... Tragic.”

  Droad nodded. “I’ve heard. I’m here today, in part, to investigate that assassination.”

  “Assassination?” said the Brigadier. Some of his confident air had vaporized. Now, he looked at Droad as one might look at a coiled viper. “Explain yourself.”

  “Finally,” said Droad, smiling, “someone is interested in my report. What I’m trying to say is that the Vlax Romani are coming here to Neu Schweitz.”

  That got their attention. Every head swiveled in his direction. Every conversation stopped. Hard stares pierced him.

  He lifted a data-bean. “If you could play this, Ensign Tolbert.”

  Tobert looked at the Brigadier for guidance. He made a small, brushing gesture with his hand. The Ensign took the data-bean and slipped in into a receptacle. The big board showed a base, an asteroid mining venture. Soon, several of the brass watching the incoming ships muttered. As it played, the Brigadier leaned close to Droad.

  “I don’t know where you got this, but it’s classified.”

  “I wasn’t under the impression that anyone here lacked clearance, Briga
dier Druzman,” Droad said in a conversational tone.

  “You do,” said the Brigadier.

  As the nukes went off at the end, many gasped. There were sounds of outrage. Some looked worried, eyeing the others. Perhaps, thought Droad, the worried ones were those who had already seen the incriminating vid file.

  “I repeat,” said Droad loudly. “There is an attack coming. This one occurred a short time ago, and they are not finished yet. I have several pieces of evidence to back up my claims. For one, the entire skald population of this planet has fled Neu Schweitz. They are all aboard the Gladius, which is now repaired and will soon depart for Ignis Glace.”

  “Skalds?” demanded a man from the back. “What do they know?”

  “They killed Senator Fouty—”

  “An unconfirmed accusation, sir!” interrupted Druzman. His face was redder than ever.

  “So when I found they had fled to the Gladius,” Droad went on, ignoring the outburst, “I went up to—to ask them about it. They confirmed for me, only yesterday, that they are leaving because an attack is about to strike this planet. They did the same thing when disaster struck Garm, so I took an interest in their exodus.”

  “Garm again. How is this related to your monster hunt?” demanded Brigadier Klaus Druzman.

  “As far as I know, it isn’t, sir. But I thought you should know, as this center is responsible for world defense.”

  Everyone stared at him. Many people talked at once. The Brigadier went to stand with two of the brass from Fleet. After a minute or so, they nodded and separated.

  The Brigadier returned to lean near Droad, who found his breath slightly offensive. “I know you’re bluffing. But you also believe there is a real danger. We’ll double the deep patrols. We’ll put every eye we have on Minerva. The Vlax have been moving in large numbers lately. Reports from there are confusing. Possibly, they are planning something important.”