26

Our journey back to the surface and their mobile first-aid facility was a blur. X-37 kept me going by spiking my adrenaline and other hormones beyond what was safe. He also suppressed certain elements of my nervous system that should’ve forced me to quit before I injured myself.

But since I’d been getting eaten alive by the spawn of a giant humanoid centipede with an affinity for building nests out of wiring and circuit boards, we’d agreed it was all or nothing. I wasn’t sure how Elise had kept up, but attributed it to the side effects of the experiments her father in the Union had performed on her while she was growing up.

Locke was just tough, and he hadn’t drawn as much attention from the little monsters. Scurrying up the back of their mother had pissed them off, apparently.

We left the medic truck, which was large enough to treat a squad of soldiers and seemed to be a fully functioning all-terrain vehicle if necessary, and headed for the palace.

“We have to walk?” I was getting frustrated. Fatigue and pain put me in a bad mood and we were on a very tight schedule.

“Just the last few hundred meters,” Locke said, seeming more proud than embarrassed as I thought he should be. “The ambulance treated you on the move, by order of the president, who said you had a place to be and things to do.”

“She’s got that right,” Elise said. “Maybe she could show her appreciation by getting those fuel stores ready for us? Can you hear me, X?” she asked, changing the course of her conversation smoothly.

“I can, Elise. What can I do for you?” X-37 asked.

“Have you calculated the load capacity of the Jellybird? It’s something I couldn’t stop thinking about on the ride back to the surface. I’m worried we can’t move enough fuel to really help the Bold Freedom,” Elise said.

I winced inwardly, having completely forgotten about our primary mission. That was a good way for a Reaper to fail. I’d been distracted, but X-37 should have kept me on task. I strode toward the boulevard the president’s people wanted us to march down to the palace.

“That’s a good question,” I said.

“I would have informed you if there was a problem in this regard,” X-37 said. “The Jellybird was retrofitted as a smuggler long before you stole her.”

“I didn’t steal her,” I said defensively. X-37 could be offensively direct sometimes.

“You did, Reaper Cain, but that doesn’t matter right now. I advise you to stand up straight and look your heroic best for the people of Wallach,” X-37 said.

“What are you talking about, X?” Elise asked, looking at Locke and seeming to hear the noise from the boulevard for the first time.

“The people of Wallach are very formal, and very grateful,” X-37 said.

“You think?” I asked as we turned onto the presidential boulevard.

Locke smiled, seeming like an entirely different person. It was like he was a kid about to be part of his first victory parade. “I give you the people of Wallach!”

An honor guard fell in behind us as we strode forward with people lining the streets.

A marching band soon followed the honor guard and someone started shooting fireworks. People tossed confetti and cheered. The noise was deafening and my novice understanding of their language was foiled by the clamor. They were shouting something, then singing, and then shouting and throwing confetti and flowers again. At one point, they began to stomp and clap in unison.

“Have you ever experienced anything like this? Elise said, utilizing the communication network X-37 provided to her earbud and my nerve-ware.

“Not even once,” I said somberly.

There was a significant amount of pomp and ceremony when we crossed under the archway to the presidential palace courtyard. Locke ushered us through the crowds, many of whom wanted to touch us and bless us with some sort of religious phrase I didn’t understand but appreciated. There gratefulness seemed heartfelt and genuine.

“X, this is the strangest experience I’ve ever had,” I said.

“It’s commonly referred to as a hero’s welcome,” X-37 said like a history professor.

Locke took us into the waiting room outside of President Amanda Coronas’s office. He took his two pistols, flipped them around to grab them by the barrels, then offered one to me and one to Elise. “These are my favorite guns, and they’ve been in my family since my great-grandfather’s time. They’ve been through several wars and countless smaller actions. What the two of you did down there was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen or imagined. I want you to have these.”

“Be careful, Reaper Cain,” X-37 warned. “This is a very important moment to him. My suggestion is to avoid a smart-ass comment.”

I accepted the weapon with genuine reverence. It struck me as a symbol of what I had hoped service to the Union would be: meaningful, effective, and above all, honorable. The weight of the pistol felt good in my hand. The design was different, simpler than most firearms I’d used over the years—but in a good way. The cleanest of the lines reminded me of Path and his purity of purpose.

Elise accepted her pistol with the serious attention to gun safety that made me proud. She checked to see if it was loaded and that the safety was engaged—all without inadvertently pointing the weapon at someone in the room as an untrained person might do.

“This is a very generous gift, Locke,” Elise said, securing it to her tactical vest and giving the thick-shouldered soldier a hug.

He didn’t seem to know what a hug was but took it in stride.

Elise laughed as she pulled back. “It’s called a hug, Locke, something we do where I’m from if we are good friends or family.”

“Then I’m honored to be your friend,” Locke said, turning toward me with his arms spread as he stepped into my personal space.

“Give the man a hug, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said with way more sass in his voice than I would normally tolerate.

The one-armed bro-hug seemed more than good enough for the Wallach CSL, who hadn’t known what a hug was five seconds ago.

I patted him on the back with my Reaper arm. “That’s good. Hold a hug too long and it gets weird.”

“Right, of course,” Locke said, standing back and straightening his gear. “Let’s see the president.”

We entered. The Presidential Guards watched us, completely unimpressed that we had just saved their entire civilization.

“Reaper Cain, Elise,” the president said, standing back too far to be hugged, thankfully. “You have done us a great service. All of Wallach is in your debt. We’ve already begun transporting the necessary fuel stores to your ship and have removed our guard from it as well. My advisors are in quite a tizzy about the inequity of this exchange. One cargo hold of fuel is not adequate. For once, I agree with them.”

“You don’t happen to have any Starbrand cigars?” I said, earning a nasty look from Elise, who was behaving more formally than I had ever seen her.

“I don’t,” the president said. “And contrary to our first meeting, I’m not a regular smoker. However, my father supported several artisans who were the best at what they did and we keep a humidor stocked with Wallach Presidentials. You’re not familiar with them, of course, but each of the cigars is a national treasure.”

“I’m willing to become familiar,” I said, not quite sure why I was smiling so much. Happiness and relief were strange emotions to me. I liked President Amanda Coronas. She seemed to have her act together.

“I will send a note to the corporation manager, who will put together a gift box and make sure you don’t go without while you’re here with us,” she said. “My father was well-known for his affinity for cigars. As such, what may be a relaxing pastime among your people has many important social overtones here.”

“Any tips?”

“Little things, like how you should never throw one away in public. Even if it is burnt down to next to nothing,” she said. “But we have important things to discuss. General Karn and my admirals have advised me that there are now three of your Union vessels in the system. We assume they are after you. Apparently, your people have the ability to make the ships invisible.”

“They’re not my people,” I said. “There aren’t many ships that size that utilize stealth technology, but Vice Admiral Nebs is part of a special operations group,” I said.

“Your ship has stealth technology,” she said, holding my gaze very directly.

“She does,” I said just loud enough to hear. This conversation was getting serious.

“Would you share it with us?” she asked.

“That’s a different discussion, but I’m not saying no,” I said.

She nodded. “Good enough. Let’s prepare to address these interlopers into our system.”

* * *

The people of Wallach provided us with a new shuttle, fast and powerful in a primitive way. The controls took some getting used to, but X-37 expressed no problems when interfacing with its controls.

“I’ve rewritten several subroutines that will allow proper coordination between the shuttle and the Jellybird,” X-37 said as we broke free of the gravity well and headed for our ship.

“Good work, X,” I said. “I’ll put you in for a presidential medal or something.”

“As long as you will wear it for me, as I have no corporal form to pin it on,” X-37 said, not missing a beat.

Once we docked, we didn’t waste time getting to the bridge. Jelly filled us in on the details of the Union encroachment as we hurried to our battle stations.

“All three of the stealth carriers are in the system,” Jelly advised, noting the time and locations on our holo view. “I have estimated positions based on their last known trajectory and probable intent given a situation of this nature. During my brief glimpse of their actions before they went into full stealth mode, they are far too interested in the people of Wallach.”

“Welcome to the Union,” Tom muttered.

“Can you put me in touch with General Karn?” I asked.

Several moments passed. “You are connected.”

Karn appeared in the holo. “Greetings, Hero Cain.”

“With all due respect, General, I prefer you not call me hero,” I said.

“Of course, Cain,” he said. “I was about to contact the president. Do you have a problem with a group communication?”

“Nope,” I said, holding an unlit Presidential in one hand.

“Your informal manner is inappropriate, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said.

I gave him a discreet hand signal indicating we could talk about that later. X-37 didn’t have to actually see my movement, only sense even the most minute change in the position of any part of my body. We had been refining these communication methods since I got out of the Bluesphere Maximum-security Prison.

The president appeared in the holo view. “Greetings, Cain. It seems your predictions of Union aggression have come true. My defense network has detected an alarming number of scans to all of our ships and the planet itself.”

“You should probably keep evacuation as an option,” I said. “This is a small Union force. It will only get worse once they know you’re here.”

The president’s thoughtful gaze gave me a chill. I hadn’t seen many leaders of this caliber and hoped that her resolve could withstand what was coming. Wallach was little more than an oversized colony by Union standards. That didn’t mean the Union would give it a pass.

“Wallach is sovereign,” she said, her voice level and strong. There was not a trace of the false bravado I’d seen in Union politicians. “We will resist any interference to remain so. I appreciate your warning of the Union’s might, but we are no strangers to war.”

I lowered my gaze, not sure how to emphasize my point without sounding disrespectful. She picked up on it and continued.

“We might not be a match for them with our current army, but we have time to repair. You could be a leader among us, a great guarding against the evil Unioners.”

“I wouldn’t be a good general, but thanks for the offer,” I said. “We need to get the fuel to the Bold Freedom.”

“Of course,” the president said. “We will provide any assistance you need. General Karn, see to it.”

“Yes, my president,” he said.

OceanofPDF.com