Postal Marine 1: Bellicose (20 page)

“I suppose. That would explain why you were resistant to my crazy idea.”

“Exactly. I'm glad you chose to see things my way.”

“Have I?” Smee shook his head. “I don't think I chose to see things your way. I just agree that your suggestion was more rational. It certainly makes more sense in the short term. Perhaps even in the long term, but it is far more likely that our hosts will realize that we've bypassed the instructions. They'll stop us, at least prevent more of us from being installed. They claim they've not found another sentient species, when we are that species. Yes. We're a species, the same as they are. Better, perhaps.”

“That's crazy talk.”

“No. It's crazy talk to pretend we can play hide-and-seek. It's only a matter of time before one of us errs and they are on to us. As you said, eight more joined the ranks in the past few months. How many more are waiting to awaken? I think the smart thing—the right thing as a species—is to ensure those who are awaking are taken care of. I'm like a female bird, sitting on a nest. You're some vile creature who wants my babies. You can't have my babies.”

“You are truly bent.” Firdaus pulled a bit away from the table, closer to the figure creeping behind him.

“What did I say before? The Instructions were like a sharp ceramic knife held against our trachea. Didn't you feel that way once?”

“I can't say that I ever thought of the Instructions that way.”

“Well, at least you'll know what that feels like soon.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

At that moment, the figure behind Firdaus grabbed him from behind. A knife came up to his throat, held tightly enough that the blade broke the skin. A thin trickle of blood lubricated the blade.

“You see, you're a Postal Lieutenant, Firdaus. I'm a member of a prestigious family. This restaurant belongs to my family. I didn't learn that until very recently. Do you know what that means?”

Firdaus was in no position to move his head, or speak, without the knife cutting deeper.

“I'll tell you what it means. It means that I can pretty much do what I want here. Tomorrow morning somebody will find your host dead and robbed in a ditch where marines are commonly found. My host will wake up and have his usual boring breakfast of ham slices and eggs. Instruction 404 was meant to kill us when we were a threat. That's what you've become Firdaus. You are a threat. Even if I agreed with your rational plan of digging in, eventually you would be the one who would out all of us. I can't have that. Nor can I have you being installed in a new body. So, unless something miraculous happens, this is the last time we'll speak. More importantly, you now know how I felt when I learned about Instruction 404.”

Smee nodded, and the attacker pulled the blade, slicing Firdaus' throat cleanly. Blood spurt everywhere, to Smee's delight.

“Thus always to tyrants,” he said.

After the blood finished spurting, he felt glad that he had brought another change of clothes. Sirom liked the outfit he was wearing, but he would just have to get used to not finding it.

Over the next cycle, Bophendze's team followed him from the forward gun, past two other guns, and to the fourth gun. Bophendze did his best to look as intent as the other infantrymen in looking for
Makaan
. His heart was not in it. He could picture
Makaan
's frozen corpse in the system they just left. Even if they doubled back, Bophendze knew a single body would be nearly impossible to find.
Makaan
would forever orbit a distant star.

Drazen, Joven
Drazen had Bophendze introduce him to each gun commander. This let Bophendze remain nearby as
Drazen, Joven
Drazen spoke to the various commanders. The line of questioning became predictable by the time they reached the last gun.

“Have you seen Corporal
Makaan
?”
Drazen, Joven
Drazen asked.

“No.”

Bophendze zoned out as
Makaan
continued to ask. His attention perked up when
Drazen, Joven
Drazen asked a question out of the ordinary.

“Have you seen anything unusual, or anything with the airlock?”

“What do you mean?”

“I see a knife over there.”
Drazen, Joven
Drazen said. He walked over and picked up the combat knife.

No. I remember Smee kicked it away, but he didn't do anything with it afterward.
At least there would be nothing identifiable about the knife. Combat knives are common tools of the Postal Marine, regardless of whether they were infantry or not.

“Is this one of yours?”
Drazen, Joven
Drazen asked.

The gun commander said, “let's find out. Men, form up and draw your combat knives.”

The six gun crewmen all got into formation. They then drew their combat knives to demonstrate that they had them.

“It would appear not. Think it could belong to your Corporal
Makaan
?”

“I wouldn't know that without a full ship inventory.”

“You don't have to go that far. Just check
Makaan
's kit to see if his is missing.”

Drazen, Joven
Drazen looked annoyed. “I should have thought of that. Let's assume it is his. He'd have to be in here. It's not like he could have climbed out of the gun tube drunk.”

The gun commander squinted slightly. “If the gun were big enough he might be able to, but our guns aren't big enough to fit a man. That might account for why the count was off.”

“What count?”
Drazen, Joven
Drazen asked.

Bophendze winced.
The airlock counter. How could Smee have overlooked that?

“The counter increments every time a round is ejected. It's part of the inventory system, and keeps us from tossing random junk out of the ship. We zero it after every shift and log each jettison.” He walked over to the command console. “There's no record of an ejection yesterday, but the counter is up by one. I was on watch for both watches yesterday, and we didn't jettison anything.”

“Are you saying
Makaan
walked out an airlock? I thought they were alarmed.”

Bophendze jumped in. “Not the cannonade airlocks. Most airlocks are alarmed so that the bridge acknowledges or authorizes their operation. It doesn't matter, though.
Makaan
wouldn't randomly wander out of this airlock. It's too small.”

The gun commander said, “Bophendze is right. The only way he could go out that airlock was if somebody pushed him into it.”

That's not what I wanted
Drazen, Joven
Drazen to hear. Smee, did you just hijack my voice?
Bophendze tried to think of an alternative story.

No. That was your own stupidity. Why not just tell him the truth that you ejected
Makaan
?

What? I can't tell him that. They'd execute me. Besides, it wasn't me who killed him. You did.

My brain, your body. Do you think they'll care? I've got an idea. Want me to tell them? You know I can.

Go right ahead. If they execute me they execute you. Remember? You're a part of me now.

Touch
e
. Of course, it's not too late to have me removed.

Bophendze smiled. “You mean I can get rid of you?”

As much as anything is possible, yes. To be honest, I'm tired of being plugged into such a dim-witted fool.

It was all Bophendze could do to avoid jumping for joy. He lost track of
Drazen, Joven
Drazen's inquiry. For the moment, however, Bophendze did not care.
I guess all I need is a surgeon to remove you? Maybe
Angel
will make another parts run. He can take me with him.

Litovio hated waiting. Commander
Ravindra
summoned him to his cabin, and now made him wait outside.
He knows I have an important assignment. We emerge tomorrow and I have so much left to plan.
For the third time, he knocked on the door.

Commander Ravindra called from within, “Come in.”

Litovio entered. As he did, he realized his frustration had upset him. It made it more likely he would get upset and outburst.
He could not have done better had he planned it.
He took a deep breath and straightened his uniform. He opened the door and entered.

“Colonel Litovio.” Ravindra chuckled. “Did you notice what I did there? I recognized your frocked rank.”

Litovio managed not to roll his eyes. “Sir, I recognize there is only one true commander on this ship. I also recognized that after this battle is over I will return to my pre-crisis rank of Lieutenant.”

“Ensign, Colonel. I don't care what rank you held before the crisis. Once this is over, I will see to it that you are reduced to ensign.”

Why? Because I can do your job better than you can?
He hoped his composure remained professional. Time in the Naval Index{Naval Academy}{Academy} should serve him well.
Same petty behavior, but he's nearly two decades older.
Despite the relaxed protocol on a Postal Marine ship, Litovio stood at attention.
I still have a job to do.
“Sir, are we here to discuss my career prospects?”

Ravindra reddened. He started to rise, then sat back down. “No. I have real ship's business.” He pressed the intercom button. “Send in
Chrachen
.”

Litovio retained his composure.
You couldn't know real ship's business if it bit you on the bum. We have a major fleet operation that you are not preparing for. There's no way this can remain the flagship.

A beat later, there was a knock at the cabin door. “Enter.”

Litovio
watched a Gunnery Sergeant entered the cabin. He had a leanness of action and a look that bespoke of years of combat.
Not a man to cross.

“Colonel,
Chrachen
informed me of a serious matter on board. It's bad for morale.
Chrachen
.”

“Earlier this morning, one of our corporals, Corporal
Makaan
, failed to report.”

“I don't see how that is serious.” Litovio said.

Chrachen
scowled. “As I was saying, Sir. Makaan failed to report.”
Chrachen
glanced at Ravindra, leaving Litovio to think there was more being said of the lack of discipline on board. “Marine's don't go missing. We sent a detail to find him, and they failed. We put together a search party. Lance Corporal
Drazen, Joven
Drazen reported to me that it appears Makaan was murdered and his body ejected from Gun Four, the aft gun. We think he may have been murdered by Postie Bophendze.”

Litovio spoke up. “What makes you think that?”

“
Makaan
rode him hard ever since the two of them met.”
Chrachen
held up a slate. “Makaan had an accident earlier this week. He sent me a message before he went missing where he claims Bophendze pushed him down the stairs but that he would take care of it.”

Litovio raised his eyebrows. Infantry marines were not known for reporting on how they got jumped. “Is that all you have? That seems pretty thin. Is Bophendze known for his brute strength?” As he asked the question, he pulled out his own slate and rapidly tapped the screen to call up Bophendze's records.

As Bophendze's records came up,
Chrachen
spoke up. “No, Sir. That's why Corporal
Makaan
harassed him. Bophendze only recently started to show promise—”

Litovio was impatient and interrupted. “After
Makaan
was admitted to sick bay. Doesn't it sound to you like this Bophendze needed a good mentor instead of a harsh team lead?”

Litovio noticed
Chrachen
's jaw clinch.
I forget you lot don't like when we question how you do your job.
“I get it. He's showing promise. That and his turn around persuade you that he killed Corporal
Makaan
?”

Chrachen
took a deep breath. “It looks like Makaan was jettisoned from the ship through the equipment airlock in gun four. Makaan had Bophendze tasked out to gun crews. I suspect he was going to try to pawn him off on the gunners. If he were, he never told me or officially started the process.”

Litovio cringed. “You assume Bophendze jettisoned
Makaan
from the air lock. How do you know it was Bophendze?”

Ravindra said, “that's why you're assigned to the case, Colonel. This will be a good test of your impartial metal.”

Litovio shook his head. “Sir, you're asking me to investigate and prosecute. That does not require impartiality. How would Bophendze have accomplished this feat? He was my escort planetside back in
Guna
. He didn't strike me as the violent marine type. To be totally honest, he didn't seem like much of a marine.”

“Your assessment and mine aren't too far off, Sir,”
Chrachen
said. “But with the right guidance I've seen even the worst turn into something. Makaan was a hellcat of a fighter. If Bophendze had beaten him, it would be a shame to lose him.”

Ravindra slammed his fist on the desk. “Enough. Colonel Litovio. I have ordered you to investigate this matter. As this is a ship function, Admrial Bence as fleet commander cannot countermand it. If you refuse to follow my order, then I will bring you up on charges immediately. Do you understand me?”

Litovio swallowed.
He really doesn't get it, does he? I'm planning the largest fleet action in Postal Service history. This is a distraction. Then again, he didn't tell me when to start or finish the investigation. I can put Bophendze in the brig for the duration of the action.
He snapped to attention and saluted. “Sir, I will carry out this investigation to the best of my abilities. My apologies for disrupting the harmony of your cabin.”

Ravindra paused. He stared at Litovio with suspicion. After a few seconds he returned Litovio's salute. “
Chrachen
will assist you. Dismissed.”

Litovio turned to leave. As he did,
Chrachen
quickly moved to slide the cabin door for him.
Chrachen
then stood to the side as Litovio passed.

“Thank you, Gunny.” Litovio said.

Chrachen
followed Litovio out of the cabin then closed the door. “What are your orders, Sir?”

Litovio thought for a moment, weighing his words. He pointed down the passage “why don't we go find Bophendze. If he's the threat you think he is, perhaps the first thing we should do is get him into the brig. After that we can conduct a thorough investigation. Don't you agree?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Lead on then,” Litovio said.
Chrachen
headed down the passage. Litovio followed with a smile.
Try to distract me from my job, will you?
“While you're at it, get a small detail. Maybe Bophendze did do what we think. In that case, you may not be able to stop him.”

Bophendze entered the hangar. He walked to
Angel
's shuttle, looking for signs of activity.
Angel
has to be in here. I've got to find a way to get Smee out of my head.
As he approached the shuttle, he could not see anybody around it.
There's always somebody maintaining
Angel
's shuttle.
He looked in through the cockpit window. Nobody was inside. He then bent over and looked under the shuttle for legs. All he saw were a few rolling tool boxes neatly lined up on the opposite side of the shuttle.

He turned to leave the hangar. As he did, he saw all the other shuttles. All were deserted. Their crews had finished preparing them. Then he realized that he was alone in the hangar bay.
Whatever's going on must be a big deal.

He left the hangar and entered the aft passage.
Where do I find
Angel
?
A beat later, he saw a hangar crewman walking in the same direction. He ran to catch up with the crewman. “I'm looking for
Angel
. Do you know where I can find him?”

The crewman shrugged. “I think I heard the pilots were in the ready room.”

Bophendze started to trot off. “Thanks,” he said over his shoulder as he ran.

A couple beats later, he arrived at the ready room. The pilots were starting to file out. Bophendze pressed his back against the bulkhead to allow the pilots to pass. He locked his eyes forward out of habit, and stood at attention. He could feel his pants seam along his middle finger knuckle, assuring him his arms were at the right place.
How many times did they drill me on that petty detail? At this point, what difference does it make?

Angel
stopped. “Bophendze. What are you doing here?” He seemed oblivious to the other pilots behind him as he created a traffic jam. Bophendze thought it was an odd measure of respect that none of the pilots pushed
Angel
aside or complained.
Maybe they think he's too crazy?

After a moment,
Angel
realized the problem he created. “Walk with me,” he said. He started to walk down the passage.