Tech World (Undying Mercenaries Series) (13 page)

“NO dammit!” shouted Claver.

I’d figured he was probably dead by now, but even without armor he’d scuttled like a rat and was lying at the bottom of the steps, sheltering between two dead Tau.

Once we were away from Earth, Legion Varus troops were only obligated to follow the orders of Galactics and our own officers. That’s what independence was all about, and we’d voted to keep it just a few weeks ago. Ignoring Claver, our troops shouldered their weapons and sighted carefully. They popped shots steadily into the enemy, who seemed like untrained amateur thugs to me. Six or seven of them went down, but there were plenty more, and they didn’t look like they were running away.

For me, the fight was frustrating. My big gun was anything but precise. All I could do was absorb fire. I decided to change tactics.

Slinging my cannon, I spread my arms wide and extended two force-blades, one from each wrist. Then, I charged the crowd.

This development startled everyone. I found I’d even surprised myself when I reached the lines of screaming civvies and thugs. I’m sure the innocents figured death itself was charging them in a metal cocoon with swords of fire in either hand.

I caught half a dozen pellets before I reached them, but I was still on my feet. As a weaponeer I’d been issued heavier armor than the rest of the unit, and I was relying on that extra layer of metal now.

Once into range, I cut and thrust. A force-blade is far from a precision instrument, but it’s a lot cleaner than a plasma cannon. I jabbed into soft unarmored flesh, opening up chests and lopping off heads. Between my efforts and the careful marksmanship of my fellow squaddies, the enemy lost half their number and most of their nerve.

In a last act of defiance, one of them lobbed a brightly glowing, blue-white object toward the group huddling around the crate.

“Grenade!” I shouted.

Troops scrambled, crawling and dragging themselves away. The crate was left smoking and black.

Our assailants ran every which-way. I felt like chasing them down, but was ordered back to the skimmer. I rejoined Leeson there as he walked down the ramp to the broken crate.

“Let’s see what the hell we’ve been fighting over,” Leeson said, peering through the hole in the roof of the crate. “Holy crap…” he whispered.

I shouldered close to him and peered inside. “Disks of metal?” I asked. “What are those—wait a minute.”

It took me a second before I recalled a museum trip from long ago. “Those are
Imperial coins. Galactic credit pieces.”

On Earth we still used cash in some cases for local commerce. But Galactic cash
had been outlawed nearly a century back. All Imperial currency was accounted for in electronic form. Originally this had been sold to us as an economic and environmental boon. Over time, however, many had come to suspect that if all money was a figment inside a remote computer, it was all really under the control of Hegemony—and beyond them, the Galactics.

“That’s money—
real
money,” I said.

“That’s right, son,” Claver said, walking up to the crate and staring inside it with the rest of us. “Untraceable
Imperial cash. Each of those coins is worth more than your annual pay, and they’re not ours. Keep your hands off.”

Leeson frowned at him. “You’re right of course, Claver. We’re not thieves.”

Claver gave a nasty laugh.

Leeson’s frown deepened. “Our clients are dead and we’re stuck out here in the street with this shattered box,” he snapped. “Do you want us to walk away?”

“No. My clients are plenty rich enough to afford a second life. When the clean-up crew shows, they’ll scan them and order revivals immediately. They’ll be billed and released. I’d be surprised if they don’t show up again within two hours.”

“Isn’t there going to be a bit of tough explaining to do when the local police
arrive?” I asked.

Claver gave me another of his unpleasant laughs. This time, it was louder and more insulting.

“What are you? Some kind of dumb cracker? We
are
the police, boy. At the very least, we outrank any local badge they’ll bother to send out here. Why do you think these people wanted to hire us in the first place?”

Looking around and examining the bodies, I lost count at around seventy. There were only a few legionnaires among the dead.

I reflected that when I’d helped arrange for Earth to become the local Enforcers in the Galactic Empire, this wasn’t exactly what I’d had in mind.

-13-

Once the violence had ended and we’d established a perimeter, officials began to arrive. The first responders were Tau in the medical personnel colors of blue with yellow lateral stripes. They ignored us and moved to inspect their dead fellows. Checking each citizen’s DNA with instruments, they began to chatter excitedly amongst themselves.

Old Silver watched with interest. “They’re pretty happy. This bunch of stiffs must be worth thousands to them.”

“I bet. After all, they dumped about a million
Galactic credits out of that box.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean that they own the cash. They could be couriers just as we are—but
I would bet they aren’t. Couriers wouldn’t rate a revive. They seem to be actual traders. They’ll have the coin to buy their lives back, and it won’t come cheap. They base the price on a percentage of net worth, you know.”

I frowned thoughtfully, and dared a question. “May I ask, sir, what were
we transporting for them?”

“Are you stupid, son?” he demanded. “Guns, of course. They’re gun-runners. What else would be in crates of that size that would be worth hauling down to the planet surface?”

Stunned, my eyes widened. “Guns? So this is an illegal operation, and we’re aiding some kind of rebel force on the planet below?”

Claver shook his head. “You make it sound dirty. What do we care? Maybe the guys downstairs are freedom-fighters. Maybe these fat cats up here on
Gelt Station are lording it over them, hoarding all the trade-money. I don’t know which side is heroic—I don’t even care. I’m here to collect some pay and get out. I suggest you do the same.”

“But isn’t this against the law, sir?”

“Law? The only laws that matter out here are those imposed by the Galactics. And you know as well as I do they don’t give a rat’s ass about the internal politics of any star system. As long as these Tech Worlders don’t go off and attack another system, the Galactics don’t care. And we shouldn’t either. Other than us, there are only a handful of humans within lightyears. Grow up, McGill.”

“But sir, these are Imperial credit coins. Trading with them is illegal.”

I could tell he was getting angry, but he answered me anyway. “We didn’t do that. They did. We were just the bodyguards. We were paid with legitimate, digital credit. Don’t you forget that.”

I wasn’t sure that the Nairbs would see it that way, but Claver had
actually presented compelling points. I knew that the Galactics couldn’t care less what happened here in the Tau Ceti system. Star Systems were free to have all the civil wars, rebellions and even vigorous genocides on their own turf they felt like. The Empire was too huge and spread out for any central governing body to get into fussing with local politics. As long as the Tau kept their trade goods flowing and didn’t build starships to bother other members of the Empire, no one would do anything about their behavior.

Still, I felt as a part of the local enforcement branch of the Empire we owed it to our neighbors to do better than taking bribes and participate in gun-running. Hadn’t we moved on past taking any job we had to just to survive? What was the point of being official representative
s of the Empire if we didn’t improve the lot of other species when we came into contact with them?

“I believe reputation matters in the long run,” I told Adjunct Claver. “These Tau are weasels, I’ll give you that, but I have hopes they might come to trust and rely on us in time. Maybe I’m being naïve, but that’s the way I feel about it.”

Claver rewarded me with a long, hard laugh.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!” he said. “Listen son, the bigger the city, the worse the people behave. This whole planet is nothing but one endless city! Any local will cut your throat just for the privilege of selling their own mama—and they’ll take a bent credit-piece for her, too. The ones that live downstairs on the planet’s surface are even worse.”

What he did next surprised me. It wasn’t the act itself, but the brazen quality of it. He walked over to the cracked open crate, reached in a hand and scooped out a jingling handful of coins. His hand dipped in again—but by that time, I had my gauntlet clamped over his wrist.

“What are you doing, Specialist?” he demanded in a growling tone.

“I’m stopping a blatant attempt at theft, sir.”

He looked at me in disbelief. “What, are you stupid? We can’t leave these coins sitting here in the street. I’m going to fill a sack, and I suggest you do the same. Together, we’ll get this cash to safety.”

The adjunct was getting under my skin. I felt I had to say something that would worry him. “I think I should inform you, Adjunct Claver, that I’ll be reporting this incident to Centurion Graves.”

He snorted. “Let me give you a piece of advice, kid. Your outfit is going to be left here on your own in another week. I didn’t get silver hair by making mistakes. You should learn all you can from an old hand rather than trying to screw with me.”

I made a sweeping gesture. “We’ve lost several men. We’ve been taking bribes and aiding gunrunners. You don’t think that’s worth reporting?”

He struggled with me, but I shook his arm until the coins dropped back into the crate. He growled in frustration.

“You’re the one that wouldn’t take the tip, aren’t you?” he asked
me. “You don’t want your cut? Fine. You run off and tattle. In fact, I don’t care if you tell your prissy tribune as well. Germanica will be gone soon enough.”

When I was sure he didn’t have any coins in his pockets, I let him go.
He stalked away, got into the skimmer, and said something to the blue turtle. To my surprise, they lifted off and flew away. I watched him leave with my mouth hanging open.

Adjunct Leeson left his position on the steps of the bank and rushed over to me.

“What did you do?” he demanded.

“U
h…I guess we didn’t see eye-to-eye, sir.”

“No shit,” he said. “He just took off? What the hell are we supposed to do with these ‘clients’ and their money?”

“About the money,” I said, “he tried to take that with him.”

Leeson glowered at me. “You pissed him off, didn’t you? Did it occur to you that he’s our guide on this planet? That neither you nor I have a clue how this society operates while he’s been here for several tours over decades?”

“He did say something to that effect,” I admitted.

Once Claver
was gone, the attitude of the Tau officials around us changed. The officials who’d been inspecting our dead clients stepped up and said something in their clacking language. Claver had taken the translator with him, but we got the gist of it when he put out a hand, palm up, and made a grabbing motion with it.

“I think he wants to be paid, sir,” I said to Leeson.

Leeson threw his arms wide. “This is a frigging mess. How can we pay him? How do we know how much we owe?”

The official pointed toward the cracked crate of cash on the bank steps.

“No! No way,” Leeson said. “That’s our clients’ money.”

Irritably, the Tau medical people left us there. They took the bodies with them and I watched closely to make sure they left the cash in place. Other officials had removed the bodies of the thugs and civilians. In each case, they tested them to see if they were worth reviving. A few were and were carefully loaded aboard flying machines. The rest were piled onto a single cart and dragged away. I had the feeling they would end up in that river of sludge that flowed everywhere beneath the streets. The Tau weren’t much for respecting their dead—
unless the dead were rich.

“What about Claver?” I asked Leeson.

Harris answered my question. “He’s forwarded his data-link to some bullshit box that’s full of messages. How’s that for a hint, McGill? He’s too pissed off with you to help out!”

“What about headquarters? When can we expect relief?”

Adjunct Leeson sighed and came close. He put an arm around my shoulders—but it wasn’t a friendly gesture. He spoke directly into my ear.

“Did you see me take a bribe, soldier?” he asked me.

“I’m not sure, sir,” I said. “Some people might see it that way.”

“Do you think that I want to explain all this to Graves—or anyone else?”

“Uh…no, probably not.”

“That’s right. We’re not calling headquarters. We’re handling this by ourselves. You’re a big boy. You shouldn’t be worried about a little bank-robbery attempt.”

Adjunct Leeson gathered up the group, patched up the wounded, and talked over his options with Veteran Harris in a low voice.

The sky darkened as we stood around over the next half-hour. I got the feeling Veteran Harris and Leeson weren’t sure what to do. Maybe they were waiting around to see if our clients did return to claim their cash. After all, Claver had said they would.

As night fell, businesses closed and the streets emptied. Then a new delegation appeared. This time they stood at the top of the steps of the bank. A group of lightly armed bank guards from the pyramid-like building we were squatting in front of came down toward us.

We eyed them warily, kept our fingers on our triggers, but we kept the muzzles of our weapons aimed downward.

It was about this time that I realized Claver had screwed us by dumping us here. He’d guided us across the city, a place he knew well while we were completely out of our element. We’d been left with the credits we’d been guarding, but we had no idea what to do with them. Should we take them back to base? Not easily done, even if the crate hadn’t been damaged. We couldn’t just leave the money out here. What client for any future subcontract would trust us after news of that got out?

We were armed guards, our clients were dead, and the crazy officer who’d made the deal had bugged out. We were well-armed but clueless. It was an uncomfortable situation.

The bank guards came closer one step at a time. They looked at us as if we were feral zoo animals somebody had let out of a cage.

Leeson stepped forward to greet them, reaching toward them as if to shake hands.

At first, they drew back. They chattered amongst themselves for a second then one of them produced a local, Tau System ten-credit piece and slapped it into Leeson’s hand. Leeson looked at it in confusion.

The guards moved forward with more confidence after that. They approached the broken crate and peered inside. Immediately, they became excited and spoke rapidly amongst themselves.

“Sir?” I said to Leeson, who had been watching the guards without comprehension. “I think they’re trying to take the money.”

“Good,” he said. “That’s what we’re supposed to do, isn’t it? Deliver the funds to the bank. If the guards take it up those steps, it’s their problem. Then we can focus on the walk home.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, sir,” I said.

“Uh,” said Harris, stepping into the conversation. “I have to go with McGill on this one, sir. The yellow light of greed is shining in the eyes of those guards. They’ll steal it all the second we turn our backs.”

“If you can’t trust a bank, who can you trust on Tau Ceti?” Leeson demanded.

“This money isn’t in the bank’s hands, and it’s cash,” Harris said in a low voice. “Untraceable old-fashioned
Imperial
coins. There aren’t too many guys back home I’d trust, either.”

Leeson made a sound of disgust. I could tell he’d been hoping to unload this problem onto someone else. At least he hadn’t spent all his time trying to figure out how to steal it. I had to give him high marks for that. All of us knew we’d never get these coins home to Earth much less get away with spending them on anything.

Leeson approached the bank guards making shooing motions. “Back!” he shouted. “Back into your bank you thieving rentals! That’s not your money.”

The guards chattered at him in irritation and didn’t move. I stepped back a pace and looked around the street. It was surprisingly quiet. During business hours, there had never been less than a thousand people in sight. Now, there were only a dozen or so.

“Here,” said Leeson irritably, producing the ten-credit coin and handing it back to the bank guards.

Reluctantly, they took it and retreated when Harris prodded a few of them with his gun. As the last man walked by, I reached out and clamped onto his wrist with my gauntlet.

“Just can’t let a fight go by, can you McGill?” Harris demanded.

“Check his pocket.”

Harris did, while the man hissed and sputtered. Three of the thousand-credit coins jingled into his hand. Harris tossed them back into the crate and I let the guard go.

Rubbing his hand and flaring his mouth tentacles at me, the guard walked back up the steps and into the bank. I was pretty sure he wasn’t blowing me kisses.

“All right, McGill,” Leeson said. “I’ve requested a private skimmer. It’ll be expensive, but I’ll pay for it. Unfortunately, I’ve just gotten the word it won’t get here until morning. Apparently, flying vehicles are shot down automatically by these banking structures after business hours—too many robbery attempts. Lucky us, we get to spend the night out here.”

“Hmm,” I said thoughtfully. “Where are the local cops, sir?”