The War for Profit Series Omnibus (34 page)

Jeff said, “Good Friday is in five weeks. Could you help me out with that?”

Galen said, “I’ll see what I can do. Most likely, I’ll come up with something.”

Karen elbowed Galen gently. “I’ll make it happen.”

Galen was happy that the lack of edible fish on this planet was one of his biggest problems. For now, anyway.

“Hey, get up.” Karen shook Galen’s shoulder. She was dressed in combat coveralls, garrison cap and pistol belt with side arm.

“What time is it?” Galen rubbed his eyes.

“You missed breakfast and you have to meet the Director and the liaison team in thirty minutes.”

“Okay. Thanks for waking me up.”

“See you downstairs.” Karen left.

Galen got up, shaved, showered, scrubbed his teeth and put on a fresh set of coveralls. He also chose a new garrison cap and clipped on his new pistol belt, removed his side arm from the old one and put it in the stiff holster on the new one. Then he moved the seven spare magazines into the pouches of the new belt as well. He went downstairs and left the building and took the Vehicle Commander seat of the wheeled sedan. The driver was a EugeneX security troop who had completed her training and was now performing regular assigned duties as protocol driver.

Karen sat in the back seat of the car. “Galen, this is a pretty big deal today.”

“Yes I know. We pass off a lot of responsibility to the Director and coordinate with the liaison. Starting today, I am no longer the Lord-Master General of this planet.”

The driver looked over at him. “Lord-Master General?”

“I was joking. It’s just made up. EugeneX owns this planet and until today I was the most senior representative of that corporation. But as soon as I pass the torch to him, it’s the Director of Research.”

Two more sedans followed, empty except for their drivers. The driver pulled into the spaceport passenger pickup area and parked along the curb. Galen told her, “Wait here.”

Karen and Galen went inside and waited on a bench at the incoming passenger gate. The Director was flanked by a security guard on the left and Mr. Pedimore, the liaison officer, on the right. Behind the Director followed two spaceport workmen in blue coveralls pushing carts loaded with luggage.

Galen stood and when the group stopped in front of him, he reached for the director’s hand. “Welcome to Juventud, Director.”

The Director’s handshake was confident and firm. “Commandant Raper, I assume. Please, call me Tom.” The Director was taller than average, but still a good five centimeters shorter than Galen. A square face that seemed rounded by a receding reddish-blonde hairline that also had thinned on top, the beginning of a bald spot on the crown. Broad shoulders and beefy arms filled out the business smock he wore, no need for padding in the shoulders. Intelligent and cunning blue eyes. Galen knew the type, executive leadership material. A jock who studied business management; being a senior executive in a biotech research corporation didn’t require knowing a ribosome from a chromosome.

Galen said, “This is our logistics genius, Karen Mitchell. She coordinated all the great work that has taken place so far.”

The Director reached out to shake her hand. “Outstanding work, Karen. I understand the facility was completed three days ahead of schedule.”

“Thank you, Director. Your car is outside, we’ll escort you.”

“If you don’t mind, can I ride in your car? I have some questions and it will save time. My people will follow in the other cars.”

“Right this way.” Galen stepped outside and opened the back door of the sedan. Karen got in first and the Director sat next to her. Galen got in the front seat and watched over his shoulder for the rest of the group and its luggage to load into the two other cars.

“Okay driver, to the mountaintop.”

The driver pulled out of the spaceport terminal and drove along the street of the downtown district, then made a left and after a few hundred meters drove across the low bridge spanning the lake. The bridge was constructed on sturdy pylons driven into the bed of the lake, and a steel running surface was covered with a rubberized material. The guard rails were a meter high, built far enough out from the driving surface to allow for a sidewalk that was raised three centimeters above the driving surface.

“I like this bridge,” said the Director.

“Well, it wasn’t here two weeks ago, Director.”

“Please, call me Tom,” said Tom. “And the facility?”

“Well, Tom,” said Karen, “As soon as the tunnel was finished, we started cutting the top off the iron mountain. We saved time by burning trenches in the surface and building inside them. There was construction material left over that we haven’t used, but it’s still up there if you get any ideas later on. The space shield and the command center are in place, and most of your technicians and engineers and scientists are settled in to their quarters and work stations.”

“Good. Any problems at all?” said Tom.

Karen said, “No. I took the liberty of scheduling a lunch conference. All your people will be seated in the restaurant at noon so you can give a brief and then do a meet and greet afterward.”

“Excellent.” Tom looked out the window. The sedan wound its way clockwise up the mountain road that spiraled a full three times around its bulk on its way to reach the top. Tom said, “It’s an impressive view on the way up. I knew what was supposed to be here, but seeing it for myself, it’s very impressive.”

Karen said nothing; Galen followed her lead. She was an expert, after all, at handling corporate types. When the car stopped in front of the facility administrative building, Galen got out and opened the door for Tom.

“Do you need any help from here?” said Galen.

“No, that’s fine. I’m back in my element, I got this,” said Tom. He got out of the car and rounded up his group from the other two cars and went into the office building.

Galen got back in the sedan, in the back seat with Karen, and said, “Take us to the command center, driver.”

She drove past two steel buildings and turned right until she came up to a garage entrance that led into the living rock foundation of the command center. She parked the car and waited for Karen and Galen to get out. She said, “You need me to stay with the vehicle?”

Galen said, “No, we won’t need you until about fifteen hundred hours. I’ll call you if anything changes.”

“Okay.” She got out and locked up the car and left the parking garage.

Galen led Karen to the stairwell up to the plateau of ground left ten meters higher than the rest of the compound. The surface was more than two hundred meters across, more or less in a circular shape. The command center and the space shield and its battery reserves and two space lasers were there, along with a four-gun 240mm battery. Galen and Karen entered the low concrete structure of the command center, descending its twelve steps to enter the main conference room.

Tad greeted them, “So how’s that director?”

“He’s all right,” said Galen. “Big dumb ex-jock.”

Tad said, “Well they can’t have a scientist running the place, that would be like letting the lunatics run an asylum.”

Sevin said, “Hey Smaj, what’s up?”

Galen looked around. Technicians sat at terminals, four on each side wall. The large table in the middle of the room had a dozen comfortable chairs. The full-D screen was on the same wall as the entrance, a big screen that went from half a meter off the floor to within ten centimeters of the ceiling three meters high. The polished stone floor reflected like a dark mirror, the iron ore allowing a nice sheen. The back wall had two doors, one leading to Tad’s office and quarters, the other into a smaller, more private office for the EugeneX liaison officer.

Galen sat at the table, taking the chair next to Sevin. Karen sat next to Galen. Tad sat in the op center control chair at the head of the table, and Spike in the chair to his left.

Karen said, “You’re all invited to the Director’s welcoming luncheon.”

Sevin said, “I’ll be there.”

Galen said, “As much as I know it pains you, I’m glad to hear that. So Tad, how’re operations going?”

“During the past two months we have cycled through two classes of police cadets and they have relieved our troops of their duties as they came on line. By the end of next month, all the police duties will be handled completely by them. As for crater defense, this process will take longer. First comes twelve weeks of basic military training, then as much as twelve more weeks of additional specialized training. After they are all trained and certified, we’ll hand the entire defense mission off to them on the same day. At that time, we’ll step back into an advisory role. The only unit inside the crater that will remain under our control is the heavy tank company.”

Galen said, “Okay. That’s good stuff. Some of out troops are already getting bored, so I’m thinking about making arrangements to ship some of them out as their duties are taken over by the police.”

Sevin said, “No. We all leave together, at the end of the contract. If they need something to do, I’ll work them into the rotation up top.”

Galen said, “And what about after the units up top are relived by EugeneX troops?”

“We’ll stay, and patrol up top as dismounts. Or whatever. We all stay until the end of the contract, and we all leave together.”

Galen leaned forward. “Master Sergeant Sevin, please let me know why you feel so strongly about this.”

“Two reasons, Smaj. Tradition and the advantage of the troops who leave early, it’s not fair and that unfairness will eat away at unit cohesion. That won’t seem bad now, but I’m thinking of the next contract, and the one after that.”

“I still don’t read you.”

Sevin said, “The troops who leave here first will get first crack at the best training slots on Mandarin. They’ll get a career boost ahead of the troops left here, and that will cause resentment within the ranks. We all have to stay together. Anything else is unacceptable in a professional unit.”

Galen looked around the room. “Okay, Sevin. You win this one. We’ll all stay here until the contract is complete.”

Sevin winked and said, “Choose your battles wisely and you’ll never lose.”

Galen said, “Tad, anything else?”

“Sure. Direct your attention to the full-D screen. Nine days ago we detected a ship heading this way from a distant jump point, burning in at half light speed. I expect them to be here in about three or four days, depending on how strongly they intend to decelerate. We sent a message asking who they were and this is the response we received.”

The screen showed a man in full body armor, grey, with a row of short spikes spaced about two centimeters apart running from one elbow to the next across the upper arms and shoulders. The man’s face had a tattoo that looked like some sort of predatory arthropod, his left eye the eye of the tattooed creature. From the outer corner of his right eye were three black teardrop tattoos. He peeled back his lips before he spoke to reveal his teeth, which had been sharpened into points, top and bottom, to look like opposed rows of fangs.

He spoke, “People of the Panzy Brigade, know this: the people of Seventh City are now under the protection of the Twelfth Legion of Doom. Any farther action by you against them will be met with retribution by me and the soldiers I command. Take heed, lest you lose everything through defeat at my hands. And make no mistake, dare to interfere with Seventh City again and I will relieve you of the burden of your failed and useless lives.” The screen went dark.

“That’s it,” said Tad.

Galen said, “Have we sent a response yet?”

“No, I thought you’d like to have some input.”

Galen said, “My initial gut response is to scorch Seventh City off the map before they get here, and knock the Legion ship out of space as soon as it’s in range. But there’s nothing in our unit contract about killing fools just because they insult us.”

“Well,” said Spike, “
When Seventh City was trying to get a bid on the contract, the terms were to protect their city from incursion and attack. It seems to me like as long as we stay more than ten klicks away from them, they won’t bother us.”

Tad said, “As long as they stay the hell away from my crater, I’m good with that.”

Galen said, “How long does it take for a message to reach them?”

Tad said, “Almost a day, roughly. Less as they get closer.”

“Okay, let me think about it and we’ll put together a response.”

Sevin said, “Whatever it is, make sure you say something about his teeth.”

Karen said, “And make fun of his unit name, a legion of dummies or something.”

Galen stood and walked toward the exit. “All right, we’ll have some fun with that later. Now it’s time to go to the luncheon. Follow me out.”

The senior staff members followed Galen down the steps and around the buildings and into the office building of EugeneX, straight back to the restaurant. They were seated together at a round dining table and served chicken cordon bleu and iced tea. At the far end of the dining room, Mr. Pedimore turned on the comms, checked the podium and brought the full-D screen out of standby mode, then began to speak.

“Welcome all to EugeneX’s newest research facility. We’ll get started with a presentation from our senior researcher, Dr. Forestall Wythecombs.”

Pedimore stepped aside and Dr. Wythecombs took his place. He wore his lab coat, the white material draped over his thin shoulders. His narrow face made his eyes look too big, and his bald head looked a little too pink on top. “I’m very excited about our latest project. It provides great hope for all humankind. I can truly say, if it works the way I expect it will, what we accomplish here will literally be remembered, for ever. I’m talking about, of course, our work on immortality and eternal youth.” Dr. Wythecombs sat in a chair behind the podium and the lights dimmed and the full-D screen showed the EugeneX corporate logo approaching from a great distance, closer and closer, until it filled the screen.