Willful Child (17 page)

A Radulak was standing very close to the screen, using a limp Muppetlike thing to wipe down the lens. Noticing Hadrian, it ducked out of sight.

“Well, Captain Hadrian?” Bill demanded from its throne.

“It wasn’t easy, Drench-Master, but we have managed to extract Wynette Tammy from our mainframe. We are packing his central Identity Matrix Unit into a crate.”

“Good. We will do the same with the female human.”

“Obviously,” said Hadrian, “for this to work, we’re going to have to trust each other.”

“Of course, Captain. After all, if you send us, say, an empty box, we will fire all weapons and obliterate you.”

“We won’t. This is all legit, Drench-Master.”

“Hmph, we shall see, won’t we?”

“Captain, this is Galk. Package ready to send, sir.”

“Ah,” said Hadrian. “Did you hear that, Drench-Master? Good. So, midrange point, correct? And then what, we displace the items to our respective ships?”

“Yes. Maintain your distance, Captain, as our ship’s superior displace-inhibitor field extends well beyond our hull!”

“Just as we have similar countermeasures to unauthorized displacement, Drench-Master. No worries. A moment, please. Format Command: split the screen, external view, forward, and Radulak bridge continuous. There, perfect.”

The Radulak must have done something similar, for Bill was leaning far forward now, two of its three eyes fixed on something to one side. Drool spooled endlessly from the alien’s gaping mouth. “We see the crate, Captain Hadrian.”

“There are modest thrusters affixed to the frame, Drench-Master, to halt the object at the agreed-on midway point.”

“Yes, we see them. Mass indicates that the crate is indeed not empty. Very good, Captain. See now, we are sending you the female.”

“So noted, Drench-Master.”

A few moments later both objects halted side by side in space with about four kilometers between them.

Bill leaned back, nostrils opening wide all over its ghastly face. “We have a lock on the crate, Captain. Our systems have overwhelmed its guidance command hub!”

“I’m sorry,” Hadrian said, “but is that display of processing prowess supposed to impress me?”

“Bravado, human? I am not surprised.”

“Now then,” said Hadrian, “we have a lock on the adjutant. Are you ready for the exchange? Shall we release the gravity snares on our respective offerings?”

“Yes.” Bill held up a nubby finger. “I will press the button when you do the same.”

Hadrian held up his middle finger. “Here’s mine,” he said, smiling.

“Good. Are you ready? Excellent. We mutually release the gravity snares. One, two, three…” The Radulak stabbed down and Hadrian did the same.

Bill’s nostrils flared, and then snapped shut. “You didn’t release your crate!”

“You didn’t release the pod, Drench-Master.”

“Didn’t I? Oh. I must have missed. Hah hah.”

“Shall we try it again?”

“Yes, and this time, for certain, Captain.”

“Why not?”

Buttons were pressed.

“Captain,” reported Polaski. “We have her and … and … and … and … yes, she’s alive!”

On the screen, phlegm slammed into the lens. “Now we have Wynette Tammy—and now you die!” Bill cocked his head. “What? Report!” Gobs slammed into the side of its head. “Oh, the lower half of my ship has just disintegrated, has it? Cascade effect? Captain Hadrian!”

“Yes?”

“You have betrayed me! Liar! Cheat!”

“You were about to kill us, Drench-Master.”

“Was I? Let me consult on the matter—oh, no time—”

On the screen, the view of the Radulak bridge went dark. The external shot went very bright.

Hadrian said, “Captain to sickbay. Doc, the adjutant needs cleaning up. When that’s done, send her to her quarters and tell her to throw on something more comfortable. I’ll be there shortly.” He stood. “In the meantime, well done, everyone—no, not you, Polaski, but everyone else. As for me, I’ll just change into a new uniform—”

“Captain!” cried Jocelyn Sticks. “Another Bombast-class ship has just appeared in-system!”

“Oh, really? Crap on everything! Galk! Rig us up another bomb, will you?”

“Aye, Captain. How about I do four or five, just to save time, at least until we leave Radulak space?”

“Sound plan, Galk. Proceed. In the meantime … Helm! Take us behind the planet and match speeds with the Bombast.”

“Sir, how will I know—”

“The Radulak run everything at full tilt, Lieutenant. For a Bombast-class, that’s six point three-two-four, come hell or high water.”

Was that an admiring look from the lovely Joss Sticks? Hadrian offered her a warm smile. “It’s the captain’s job to know such things, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

Puffing his chest—but not obviously, no, more in a subtle way intended to make it seem incidental—Hadrian strode to his office. He paused just outside the door and swung around. “Oh, and have someone mock up a Bombast silhouette, one to a hundred and ten scale, and get a drone to slap it on our hull, next to the Misanthari Swarm-Mother ship. Two jaw-dropping kills for an Engage-class Terran starship, wouldn’t you all say? Carry on, everyone.”

In his office, Hadrian tugged off his tattered shirt. From his clothes cabinet he selected a much thinner, stretch-every-which-way sky-blue polyester shirt with gold piping on the cuffs, collar, and lower hem. Taking his seat behind the desk, he opened the lower drawer and drew out a bottle of cologne. He flicked some onto his palm, dabbed his cheeks and neck, and then dried his hand on his flat, muscular belly just above his belt. “Tammy, you’ve been quiet of late.”

“I was just sitting back and admiring your capacity for treachery, Captain.”

“Just do as I say and not as I do, Tammy. Besides, Bill was planning the old double cross anyway. Just like old times. Eighty fucking credits for a reconditioned flywheel. I mean, who was he kidding?”

“‘Ye shall sow what ye shall reap.’ Is that not the human saying?”

“Don’t think so. I think it’s ‘So and doh ray me,’ actually. In any case, it should by now be obvious to you that I was born to this.”

“That, Captain, I cannot deny.”

“So, stick by me, Tammy, and you’ll end up a fine example of an artificial self-deluded self-actualizing intelligence personality matrix.”

“Hah, no different from you, then!”

“I said ‘artificial.’ You can’t get around that, Tammy. Me, I’m biological. I come by my delusions naturally.”

“When you display one of those rare instances of self-effacement, Captain, my High Suspicion protocols kick in.”

Hadrian rose. “There’s hope for you yet, Tammy. Now, I’m off to comfort a hysterical woman.”

“You will find the adjutant on Deck Eleven, knocking them back like there’s no tomorrow. And, given the fast approach of another Radulak Bombast warship, she might be right.”

“It’s that imminent annihilation thing that’s so exciting, though, isn’t it? At least, that’s what I’m counting on.”

“Mind if I tag along?”

“Could I even stop you? Sure, by all means. Just, uh, not all the way, if you don’t mind.”

“What do I care for watching clumsy procreative activities between two biologicals?”

“Procreation? No, we’ll be having none of that if I can help it. A baby? A son I never knew I had? Forget it.” He left the office, crossing the deck of the bridge and making his way out into the corridor. “Of course,” he added, “that’ll likely come back to haunt me. He’ll show up years from now, with stupid curly blond hair, and cause me nothing but grief in a welter of torn-up bodies and exploding planets. So, thinking on that, we’ll have to skip the hot skin-on-skin wild-animal-oh-fuck-it-whatever rogering that I had in mind, dammit. Displace me a couple rubbers, will you?”

They came to the elevator and Hadrian stepped inside. “Deck Eleven.”

“The adjutant’s present blood-alcohol ratio makes the likelihood of a successful amorous outcome highly improbable.”

“That’s not how it works, Tammy.”

“She is about to pass out, Captain.”

“So mist her a detox at the bar.”

“You wish her to be stone cold sober, Captain?”

“Hmm, good point. Make her a tad, uhm, relaxed and uninhibited, will you?”

“I am experiencing an agitated energy loop you biologicals might describe as ‘creeped out.’”

The red-alert beacon flashed in the elevator, followed by a blaring Klaxon. “Oh, I don’t believe it! To the bridge, elevator, and step on it!”

“You
were
informed that a Bombast warship was fast approaching, Captain.”

“We should have a whole planet in between us right now! But this here is the problem, isn’t it? I’ve changed shirts three times already and still haven’t properly christened my role as Lord King of Everything on this ship! I need a good roll in the sack is what I need!”

“Did not the marine lieutenant invite you to just that, Captain?”

“Sweepy? Well, true. But … okay, it’s not like I don’t like dangerous. But sometimes there’s this instinct, this gut feeling, I mean, that says
Oh God not this one!
” He waved at the red flashing light. “My very own red alert starts strobing in my skull, with alarms ringing in my ears. You understanding any of this, Tammy?”

“Murkily,” the AI replied. “You’re all cock and no trousers.”

“Hang on there a minute! Okay, you said it wrong, I think, but I get what you’re trying to say, Tammy, and let me tell you—”

The elevator door hissed open.

“Later, Tammy,” said Hadrian. “It’s about to get hairy again!”

“Convenient,” said the AI in a smirking tone.

“Oh sod off, will you?”

Hadrian arrived to see on the main viewer the bridge of the Radulak Bombast vessel, with another drench-master in another throne, and spit all over the lens. The alien was speaking. “I am Drench-Master Drown-You-All-in-My-Magnificence, Second Rate, of Radulak Bombast-class warship
I Hunt Down and Urinate on Ex-Husband’s Family
. But, knowing how such titles infuriate you, you may use my given name, which is Bob.”

“No way!” shouted Hadrian. “Bob? What kind of alien name is that?”

Gobs of mucus slapped the screen. “It is so an alien name! It is a Radulak name! It is not my fault you humans have a name that sounds just like it! You stole it! You steal all our names! And now you are all going to die!”

THiRTEEN

Hadrian turned to the comms station and made a chopping motion with one hand.

But Lieutenant James Jimmy Eden wasn’t even looking.

“Where’s Polaski?” Hadrian demanded as he walked over to the station, pulled the headphones off Eden’s head, and then reached across and cut transmission.

“Migraine,” said Sin-Dour, as she rose from the command chair. “Apparently, he had them as a child. But they went away. Only now they’re back, sir.”

Hadrian held the headphones close to one ear. “What is this, Eden? You’re listening to music? Stupid, crappy music?”

The square-jawed man stared blankly at him. “It’s Celine Dion, sir.”

“Get security up here! I want this man in irons. Prepare the Dark Hole!” Hadrian walked over to sit down in the command chair. “Helm, didn’t I order you to get the planet between us?”

“We have, sir. This is a third Radulak warship—it was waiting on the other side of the planet. I didn’t know what to do! I’m sorry!” Suddenly she burst into tears.

Hadrian was quickly at her side, one arm around her shoulders. “There there, Sticks, it’s fine. You couldn’t have known the Radulak would be so cunning, so conniving. I mean, they’re only the nastiest alien species the Affiliation has run across to date, who would like nothing more than to initiate genocide against the human species, and have only been looking for any excuse to declare all-out war, so how could you be expected to, oh, I don’t know, slam us into low orbit straight down to one of the poles, pushing the containment fields to the max as we dip into the atmosphere, ploughing up a vast cloud of raging plasma that we could hide in.” He looked up, glared at Sin-Dour. “Why, even my 2IC just threw up her hands in a stunning display of tactical incompetence!”

Joss Sticks’s bawling was getting louder by the second. Finally, Hadrian twisted her around and kissed her hard. Her head snapped back and she stared in wide-eyed shock. “There, that’s better,” said Hadrian, smiling. Then he rose. “All right, everyone, listen! We’re in a hairy situation here, and I know that for most of you this is your first mission. In fact—2IC—when did we leave Kuiper Space Dock?”

“Yesterday, sir.”

“Exactly. So, by any standards, it’s been nonstop fun. But remember this! You’re all handpicked officers of Terran Space Fleet!” He patted Sticks on the top of her head. “Granted, I selected most of you women because you looked cute, but being cute doesn’t necessarily mean you’re thick. In fact, I dream of that scintillating combination of cuteness with a hard, jaded look in your seen-it-all-and-fuck-it-whatever eyes, and by the time this tour is done with, I expect to find that combination in every one of you! As for you men, well, just get on with your work, stay out of my way, and I won’t have to kill you.”

Sin-Dour cleared her throat. “Captain? When did you last sleep?”

“Sleep? A captain’s got no time for sleep! We’re in an emergency here—for Darwin’s sake, someone kill that Klaxon—and those flashing lights!” He returned to his chair. “Now—”

“Excuse me, sir,” Sin-Dour said. “Security is here.”

Hadrian twisted in his seat. “Ah, we’ve met before, haven’t we? Now, it’s Nina Twice, isn’t it? Very good. Lieutenant Eden is relieved and under arrest. Charged with dereliction of duty and listening to Celine Dion. One of those charges is a court-martial offense and the other demands execution without recourse to appeal.”

“S-sir!” cried Eden. “It wasn’t me listening to Celine Dion! Don’t kill me!”

“Blubbering now? Well, I’d expect nothing more from a fourth-place Olympian who’s a fan of Celine—”

“It was Bob, sir!”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“The Radulak were playing her—they put us on hold just after we put them on hold!”

“What? They put our hold on hold?”

Wiping at his ruddy cheeks, Eden nodded.