Dark Planet (5 page)

I wondered who else on post knew about it, which human female soldier had passed on intel to Mishal and the terrorists. I mind-probed and found the Homelanders. They were already surreptitiously nearing the target, were only minutes away from it. It was virtually impossible for non-military intruders to penetrate base security and move about on post undetected and invisible to electronic surveillance — unless they were accompanied and covered by proper authority.

It was not an impossible thing to bribe soldiers. In recent years, a series of corrupt politicians had rotted out the heart of the Republic.

I took a long breath and eased in a little taa. I had to try it. To my amazement, I felt like I had been suddenly supercharged. I ran from the gate to the
Tsutsumi
hangar, a distance of four kilometers, in thirty seconds flat. Talk about busting the Human one-minute mile!

I came down off the taa high so quickly that it left me prone with exhaustion and near shock. I lay for a minute in the shadows of a building near the hangar while I regained strength and courage. I was amazed at what I could do physically with just a little shot of the powerful drug manufactured within my own body. There wasn’t time now to consider all the ramifications of its use. All I knew at the moment was that it allowed me to overtake and pass the bombers.

Now what? If I were a full-blown Human, perhaps, and armed …

I rolled onto my stomach and crawled to where I could see a vast expanse of sheeting that surrounded the gigantic hangar. A land security robot patrolled the open plascrete, accompanied by a rover ball that snooped and bounced and hovered as it fed data back to a centralized location. The robot so nearly resembled a combat-equipped soldier that it was easy to mistake it for a Human had I not known that bots had replaced live sentries. They were far more reliable and effective walking posts.

Without an authorization pass for this restricted area, I dared no closer approach. The rover ball would set off an alarm and the bot would stitch my scrawny tailless Zentadon ass with 7mm Hornet rounds quicker than I could twitch an ear.

I waited, watching as my strength returned. I didn’t have long to wait. Presently, I saw shadows within shadows. Four of them separated themselves to cut across the open sheeting. I recognized Mishal by the wide set of his shoulders and the great tail gliding in the ambient light from stars and moons. The other two also had tails, but the fourth did not. It was a small female figure. A fifth shadow attracted my attention. It remained behind, almost cancelled by the dark. Perhaps there were others hiding whom I couldn’t see at all.

The female turned back as the bot walked out to confront the saboteurs. She looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t make out her facial features from this distance. The band apparently had proper authorization passes, either genuine ones obtained fraudulently by an inside traitor, or ones skillfully forged. The lighted ball zipped around each intruding individual to record and authenticate him. I had to admire Mishal’s ingenuity and planning. Virtually no previous infiltrators had made it past the sophisticated devices that guarded the outer perimeter, and here these Homelanders were within meters and minutes of blowing up a Republic dreadnought. There was no way this could have been done without help from within the ranks.

The bots were programmed to sound alarms at anything remotely suspicious. Most soldiers assumed the bots were infallible, but they were actually nothing but machines incapable of actual thinking, as these bold Homelanders were proving. A live sentry would most certainly have been suspicious of four Zentadon in the middle of the night accessing a restricted area.

So much for Human technology.

I looked around. I had to stop Mishal. Nothing came to mind. Mishal and his gang were already sauntering past the unsuspecting robots.

A pile of construction gravel used in the manufacture of armor and plascrete caught my eye. As a youngling, I had been adept in the orphanage at competitive stone throwing. The distance between the robots and me was at least two hundred meters, but I dared venture no nearer. I darted to the gravel pile and quickly selected several heavier round stones suitable for target throwing.

I missed the robot with my first cast. The stone struck behind it, between the machines and the saboteurs. Both camps turned toward the sound.

I whipped a second missile through the air. A robot getting konked on the head with a stone certainly qualified as remotely suspicious, if nothing else. The rover ball lit up the entire area with a blinding light. It tore back and forth across the sheeting at about waist high, emitting a shrill continuous scream with enough volume to crack windows in Prolie Town. Weapons ejected their muzzles from the Human-like robot’s hands and shoulders. It immediately morphed into an armored land combat vehicle. Magnified voices roared out of nowhere.

“Freeze! Do not move! Anything that moves within the restricted area will be neutralized. Do not move!”

Mishal yelled something. One of his henchmen kicked in taa and streaked for the hangar. The overload to his system spontaneously detonated just as he hurled a packet of explosives. The wet-sounding thump of the Zentadon rupturing merged with a blast and a brilliant flash of light.

The armored robot flickered and chattered as his armaments opened up. Mishal and his surviving comrade resorted to taa in order to run between the bullets, as it were. One of them — I couldn’t tell which — erupted into a blooming flower of blood and flesh. He wasn’t quite quick enough. The second form disappeared as armored hovercraft, floodlights blazing, suddenly darted overhead, back and forth, searching. The entire base went on immediate Def Con One, full alert.

It wouldn’t do for me to be caught at the scene. Even if I survived, no one would believe my story. I would be convicted of espionage and sabotage. Even Commander Mott would have no choice except to believe I was the insider conspiring with the Homeland Movement.

If witnessing the implosion of the Zentadon wasn’t enough to kick in my taa generator, then the resulting violence and excitement were. I knew, simply knew, I would go into lintatai and either blow up or lapse into a fugue state like Cauri Tan. But I had no choice.

Anyone watching might have thought I vanished from the gravel pile. I recovered five kilometers away, off the base again and back in the Capital. I looked back and saw the post lit up in bright incandescent floods. Craft darted about in the light like insects. I took a deep breath to restore equilibrium, astonished that twice tonight I had utilized taa and survived both times. It must have something to do with my being half-Human.

I felt exhausted but otherwise fit. I stumbled to my little apartment cubicle in the segregated Zentadon district. Mina Li was already in my bed, sleeping. I built a bed on the floor.

It hadn’t been a bad night’s work. Although no one would ever know about it, I had saved the
Tsutsumi
and preserved DRT-213’s mission. I chuckled. I was a hero in my own mind.

I could use a cocktail. I went to sleep instead.

C
ommander Mott summoned me to his office early the next morning. He sat sternly behind his desk wearing his khakis and caressing his broken tail. With him were two silent Criminal Division investigators, both Humans, and Mina Li. The CDs regarded me with something of the eye of a fangar stalking his prey. I gave Mina Li an uneasy look. She had still been sleeping in my bed when I left.

“You look like hell, if the Humans will forgive my using the term,” Commander Mott greeted, speaking Human for the benefit of the CDs. “Did you have a bad night?”

The after effects of taa left me feeling hung over. And apparently looking it. I glanced at Mina Li. “Pre-mission jitters, I suppose, sir.”

I couldn’t use sex and sleeplessness as an excuse. The breeding season was still three months off.

“We had a bit of excitement on post last evening,” Commander Mott said. “I presume you have heard about it?”

“Yes, sir. When I arrived for duty this morning.”

“These gentlemen have a few questions to ask you. I assured them that you have been a soldier with the Galaxia Republic for nearly ten years and that you are completely loyal.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Commander Mott made a gesture and one of the CD’s stood up. He towered a foot above me and had undoubtedly been muscularly enhanced, except for his brow which seemed to have been reduced so that the single line of his eyebrows and the thorny leading edge of his hairline were only an inch apart.

“Sit down, Sergeant Kadar,” he ordered. I sat down.

“Do you know a Zentadon by the name of Mishal Co Tan?”

“I know Mishal.”

“How do you know him?”

“We were in the military academy together as cadets. I stayed in the military. He resigned.”

“And became a leader with the Zentadon Homeland Movement,” the CD added.

“I have heard such.”

The CD clasped his hands behind his back and paced across the room while Commander Mott, Mina Li, the other CD and I looked on. He wore a frown that connected his brow and his hairline.

“When was the last time you saw Mishal?” he asked, obviously attempting to trap me into an admission. “I would advise you that Mishal is in custody from last night. He has made a statement.”

I felt my heart pounding and concentrated on settling it. Damned if you do, damned if you don’t came to mind. Then it occurred to me that if Mishal were apprehended, he must assume that I was still being held captive by Cauri Tan in the safe house. He would have told the CD nothing about me.

“I see him occasionally when we run into each other. We are not friends,” I said.

The CD nodded, apparently satisfied. “Where were you last night, Sergeant Kadar?”

That one was a bit more ticklish. I glanced at Mina Li. She sat stiffly in her chair, staring at me. I probed her mind and to my surprise her thoughts were so intense that I read them clearly.
With me. With me all night
.

I sighed to give the impression that I was bored with the questioning. “I left post and went to the Starside Lounge,” I said. “Mina Li met me there. We had cocktails together and then went to my cubicle where we remained for the rest of the night.”

Mina Lee relaxed in her chair. “See? Is that not what I told you?” she gloated. “Kadar and I are preparing to conjoin. We will be exclusives.”

I said nothing. I owed her something.

The CD seemed satisfied again. He looked questioningly at the other investigator, a smaller man with a wider brow, who shrugged and looked away.

“I think that’ll do it for now, Sergeant,” Low Brow concluded. “We are routinely questioning all the Zentadons on post. Homelanders attempted to blow up a dreadnought last night. One OD’d on taa. The bot killed one. We captured the leader when he ran out of taa and collapsed at the outer perimeter. We’re surprised that he didn’t blow himself up too. The only way this bunch could have gotten as close to success as they did was to have had someone on post helping them. If you hear anything, we need to know about it immediately.”

“Immediately,” I repeated.

They left, taking Mina Li with them to return her to the Capital. Before she left, she embraced me and whispered, “Please be safe. I will be waiting for you.”

“I can hardly wait,” I replied, trying to dilute the sarcasm.

She tapped my cheek with her tail. I flicked my ear. Commander Mott cleared his throat as the door closed behind her and the CD’s.

“Where were you last night, Sergeant Kadar?” he asked bluntly. I had forgotten that he was also a Sen and could read both Mina Li’s and my thoughts and emotions. It would do no good to lie to him, even if I could. I told him the entire story from beginning to end.

“You did well, Sergeant Kadar,” he said when I finished. “But you should have come to me with it.”

“There was not time, sir. You were with your family.”

He got up and walked over to me, holding his crippled tail underneath his arm. He dropped a hand on my shoulder. His purple eyes looked troubled.

“Kadar, there is one other thing. I have my contacts also. It is suspected that the Homelander sleeper on post is a Human, not a Zentadon. He — or she, as you describe — somehow escaped last night. But the suspect has been narrowed down to the Deep Reconnaissance Teams, either a present or a former member.”

“She is a DRT-bag?” I blurted out in astonishment, thinking of the female I had observed at the hangar last night.

“One female of whom is the communications specialist on DRT-213,” the Commander said.

“Sergeant Pia Gunduli,” I murmured. “Is she a suspect?”

“All the female DRTs are suspects, as are all Zentadon. There is not sufficient time to make team substitutions at this point. Sergeant Kadar, keep very alert on this upcoming mission. The Blobs may not be the only danger.”

T
he Republic considered the mission so vital that the Group Commander himself, ol’ General Numb Nuts, personally delivered the operations order. If Blade were the exception to the rule that Humans had humor and liked to laugh, General Numb Nuts was the exception to the rule that Humans bred all the time. It was whispered he had voluntarily surrendered his breeding certificate. It had soured him and made him nasty and petty.

“What he needs is his ashes hauled,” Ferret whispered obscenely to Gun Maid.

I must have looked puzzled.

“It’s an old, old Earth expression,” Maid explained. “It means he needs to have sex.”

“At ease!” bawled a staff colonel who followed the General in. He was short and bald. The rod stuck up his ass made him look unpleasant. “Don’t interrupt again,” he ordered.

He regarded the team with his unpleasant expression. “Undoubtedly, you have all heard by now that a gang of ruffian terrorists attempted to sabotage the mission last night by blowing up the dreadnought
Tsutsumi
. They failed. One was captured. They were Homelanders whom we suspect of collaborating with the Blobs. Does that give you an indication of how crucial this mission is to the security of the Republic?”