Terminus (Fringe Worlds #1) (6 page)

“What’s that?” he asked.

“It’s a cerebral scanner, although a small-scale variant,” she said. “The full-sized version is typically used to try to detect mental activity in the cerebrum of patients who’ve suffered traumatic brain injury.”

“And this one?”

“Our queries were meant to be triggers. I used the scanner to examine your brain activity whenever we asked something that was likely to get an emotional response from you. In short, it fed information back to my databand as to whether or not you were mentally stable.”

“And?”

“You passed,” she said with a knowing smile. “Now, what’s your second question?”

“What’s Browing’s deal?” Maker asked. “I mean, why is he here? I know why you and the general are here. Kroner’s here as a senior and respected officer so I’ll listen to what he has to say. You’re here to evaluate me and overcome any resistance I have to jumping at the carrot you guys are dangling. But what’s Browing’s role?”

Dr. Chantrey gave him an appraising glance, as if seeing him for the first time.

“The general said you were smart, but you’re more astute than I gave you credit for,” she said.

“Thanks,” Maker said. “But I only use my brain every other day, so just come back tomorrow if you’re disappointed.”

A hurt look came across her face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend.”

Maker sighed. “It’s okay. I guess I’m just a little on edge given everything that’s happened. Now, about Browing?”

“That’s easy enough. He’s the government liaison on Terminus. He represents humanity’s interest there, so he insisted on having involvement in selecting the person to deal with the Vacra.”

“
He’s
representing our interest?” Maker asked, surprised. “It’s a wonder we still have a claim on the place.”

****************************************

The back of General Kroner’s staff car was spacious, if not luxurious. The rear compartment held seats for four – two that were back-to-back with the driver and front passenger seats, and two across from those that were forward-facing. Browing sat in the rear-facing seat behind the driver, while Dr. Chantrey sat directly across from him. The general sat in the seat next to the doctor.

Browing waited until they were pulling away from Maker’s cabin, then checked to make sure that the soundproof glass that separated the front and rear compartments was in place. Satisfied that the driver couldn’t hear them, he then turned to Dr. Chantrey almost angrily.

“Why did you tell him that we couldn’t get him eclipse authority?” he asked. “You should have just told him ‘yes.’ You could have ruined everything.”

The doctor didn’t even deign to look at him when she responded, preferring to stare out the window at the passing scenery. “That demand was a ruse. He didn’t care about having eclipse authority, and he already knew we couldn’t get it for him. He just wanted to see what we’d say.”

Browing was visibly confused. “Why?”

“Because, if we lied about that it would probably mean that we were lying about other things,” the general said, weighing in. “Then all three of us would have come off as idiots instead of just one of us.”

Browing gave the general a hard stare. “You don’t like me very much, do you?”

“Son, I don’t even know you well enough to dislike you,” Kroner said. “What I definitely don’t like, though, is helping you recruit Marines for missions under false pretenses, no matter how well-connected your family is. However, I was ordered to come here and enlist Gant’s services on your behalf, so that’s what I did. But it doesn’t mean I have to be happy about it.”

“That’s fine by me – as long as you do what you’re told,” Browing said, earning him a glare from Kroner. He turned his attention back to Dr. Chantrey. “What about his story regarding the derelict and his crazy hyperspace jump?”

“Very convincing,” the doctor replied. “But he’s definitely lying about what happened.”

Chapter 5

Maker walked off the transport shuttle, struggling to keep his emotions in check. Decked out in his service dress – dark trousers, dark three-button jacket, and service cap – he was just one of hundreds of people in uniform disembarking here on Stinger III. However, while most of his fellow shuttle passengers were returning to duty and the humdrum of their everyday routine, this was his first time setting foot on a military planet in years.

He stepped off the exit ramp and just stood there, looking around almost in wonder. High above him, a squadron of fighters zipped by, flying in unbelievably tight formation. Just outside of the shuttle landing site, a convoy of military hovercraft with a heavily armed escort went streaking through the traffic lanes, obviously hauling something of high importance. Roughly ten yards away, an argument between two other uniformed servicemen suddenly escalated into full-scale fisticuffs. Maker smiled.
Damn but it felt good to be a Marine again!

People flowed around him like water around a rock in a stream, giving him odd looks as he stood there like a petrified tree. Of course, the wide berth they gave him might also have had something to do with Erlen, who waited patiently while Maker seem to adjust to his new environs.

The trip itself had been fairly uneventful. As promised, there had been a military craft, the
Manley
, waiting for him at the Ginsburg spaceport three days after his visitors had departed. The captain of the ship, a sour-faced man named Wilmer Han, had administered the oath of office to Maker, swearing him in as an officer of the Marine Corps. In addition, a special a courier had hand-delivered a datachip to him that provided not only secure access to the military’s personnel database, but also Maker’s itinerary and initial orders. The military vessel later dumped him off at a commercial spaceport, where he’d taken civilian transportation for the rest of his trek.

All in all, the entire journey took about a week: two days aboard the
Manley
, then another five aboard the civilian ship. (As broad as Gaian Space was, there was little direct interstellar transportation anywhere. Counting in layovers and such – the
Manley
itself had had to make two additional stops before Maker left the ship – even hyperspace travel could only get you so far, so fast.)

He had used much of his time on the
Manley
reviewing personnel records. Before he left, he thought he had his team picked out. Thus, before getting off at the commercial spaceport, Maker had used the military vessel’s secure comm to send General Kroner his selections. He also added that he wanted them on Stinger III when he arrived. (That was probably pushing things, but he might as well see what he could get.)

After a few moments – and several not-so-subtle bumps from other exiting shuttle passengers – Maker started moving again. Under normal circumstances, the presence of a “pet” like Erlen would have required that they go through Customs. Fortunately, Maker had long ago (and at great expense) gotten the necessary paperwork to allow the Niotan to have unrestricted travel – including in the passenger compartment of transport ships. All of the requisite information and permits were now encrypted and encoded in the dog tags that Erlen wore, which were quite similar to tags that Maker himself carried. That being the case, they were able to head straight for the exit gate.

Once outside, Maker had planned to take one of the numerous forms of public transportation – train, bus, etc. – to his duty post. Thus, he was more than a little surprised to find a car and driver waiting for him.

Oddly enough, Maker initially walked past the young Marine holding the sign with “Lt. Maker” on it, his mind automatically processing the scene and dismissing it in terms of being related to him. It was with something of a start that he realized a moment later that
he
was in fact Lt. Maker. (Being an officer was going to take more getting used to than simply being a Marine again.)

Doubling back, he approached the fellow holding the sign, who looked almost too young to be in the service.

“Excuse me,” Maker said, “but I’m Lieutenant Maker.”

“Lt. Arrogant Maker?” the young man asked.

“Yes,” Maker confirmed.

“Then I’m your ride,” the young Marine intoned, smiling. “Right this way.”

Maker followed the fellow – whom he presumed to be his driver – to a parking area reserved for high-ranking individuals. His guide led him to a general staff car and opened the door.

“Since when do el-tees rate this kind of treatment?” Maker asked.

The driver shrugged. “Don’t know. I was dropping an admiral from the Space Navy off when I got the order to hang around for you. I’m assuming that someone got worried that you might get lost.”

Maker and Erlen got into the car; the driver went to close the door and then hesitated.

“Uh…” The young Marine seemed at a loss for words. “Any luggage, sir?”

“It’s being sent ahead,” Maker said.

“Excellent,” the driver said, seemingly relieved. He closed the door, and then went around to the driver’s side and got in. A few seconds later, they were on their way.

************************************

The entire planet of Stinger III actually served as a military installation. The planet’s various continents served as command centers, which were themselves broken down into regions. The regions were further divided into zones. Finally, within each zone, were numerous military bases.

The base Maker was reporting to was located in a tropical area near Stinger III’s equator. It was a short drive away from the shuttle landing site, but long enough for Maker to get the driver’s story. He was young, as Maker had thought, and new to the Corps. He’d only enlisted six months ago, and since completing basic training his only job had been serving as a driver. However, on a recent pick-up he had forgotten to get a general’s luggage, the result being that the general in question had given the young man a verbal mauling that had only been slightly less vicious in nature than a physical attack (which explained the young man’s earlier nervousness about Maker’s luggage).

The car dropped him off at the Visiting Officer’s Quarters. It was there that Maker received the first real indication that his reputation had preceded him when he reported for his room assignment.

The VOQ lobby closely resembled that of a hotel. There was a waiting area (comprised of upholstered chairs and sofas scattered about the room), a small gift shop along one wall, and a bar/lounge in a far corner.

Maker took all of this in with a glance, and then – spotting the check-in desk almost directly across from him – made a beeline for it. En route, they passed a robotic maid sweeping the floor.

The robot’s optical sensors, glowing with a soft blue light, swept across Maker but then flared up when they came to Erlen.

Maker recognized that the robot was scanning the Niotan.
Good luck with that
, he thought. He had yet to encounter a machine or technology that could truly examine Erlen. Not even x-rays could penetrate his dense hide. Still, not knowing what the robot might be programmed to do – especially if it found the Niotan to be a threat – he halted.

“Unidentified life form,” the robot announced to no one in particular several moments later. “Race: unknown. Species: unknown. Planet of origin: unknown. Life form is unclassifiable.”

The robot appeared to engage in a few more seconds of processing but said nothing else. Then its optical sensors returned to their normal shade and it went back to work. Maker continued towards the check-in desk.

The receptionist on duty, a perky young blonde, gave him a warm, welcoming smile as he strode up, Erlen padding along beside him.

“Welcome,” she said. “How can I help you?”

“I think I’m supposed to have a reservation,” he answered. “Last name’s Maker.”

“I’m happy to check on that. Please place your palm on the pad,” she said, indicating a rectangular device with a transparent face that sat atop the check-in desk.

Maker did as requested. There was a brief flash of light as his palm, fingerprints, and biometrics were scanned for identification purposes.

The receptionist glanced at a computer screen facing her as it brought up Maker’s identifying information, then did a double-take. She stared at him in slack-jawed surprise, but – to her credit – she quickly recovered.

“Just a second, sir,” she said as her fingers began tapping on the screen. “I’m just coding the room to your biological identifiers….”

Maker simply nodded. She had clearly recognized his name, but apparently her professionalism and training overcame her surprise at being face-to-face with someone so infamous. That was better than most were able to accomplish. On the
Manley
, for instance, any sojourn outside his cabin made him the subject of numerous sidelong glances and harsh whispering.

“There you are – all set,” the receptionist said a moment later. She then gave Maker his room number and precise details on how to get there. Maker listened attentively before heading towards the building’s elevators.

Suddenly seeming to take note of Erlen, the receptionist called out to Maker’s retreating form.

“Excuse me, sir,” she said, causing Maker to turn around. “I’m sorry, but we have a strict policy about animals on the premises. All pets have to be kept at the base kennels.”

“Thanks,” Maker said. “If I get any pets, I’ll know where to take them.”

He turned and resumed walking towards the elevators. A few minutes later, he was in his room.