Merkiaari Wars: 02 - What Price Honour (17 page)

As a lowlife commoner, Kate had a surprising amount of freedom thanks to ISS and the military before that. She was happy with her life mostly, and did not want to change it by falling foul of these arrogant fools. They of course had more pressing worries to concern them than a lippy PFC. She shuddered; not for her the worry of political backstabbing or the sucking up necessary to get ahead at the rarefied heights of Bethany’s government. She had no responsibilities except to herself and the mission.

That’s how it would stay until she found Paul again.

Her last mission on Tigris had gone a fair way toward helping her with that. Her contact had been pleased with her handling of Millard, and had not connected her with Sanderson’s assassination. He had kept his end of the deal by finding some information that pointed off-world as a probable location for her brother. That didn’t surprise her; she had searched everywhere on Bethany for him without success. No, she had known that if he lived he must be off world, but where exactly? Without solid leads she could search for her entire lifetime and never find him. That’s why the data her contact had turned up was so exciting. It pointed to some kind of deal between her brother and the Baxters. Unbelievable at first glance—it was the Baxters who had ruined her father—but maybe this deal with them was Paul’s way to take back all they had stolen.

Kate’s gaze swept the concourse and locked onto a man like a laser turret onto a Merki ship. She was always surveying her surroundings, it was a good habit in her line of work, but this time she caught sight of someone who should not have been there. The broad shouldered black man was hanging around again. She first saw him upon her arrival, hanging around the embarkation lounge, but had thought nothing of it then. He had been just one of many people waiting for friends to arrive. Now though, his presence set alarms ringing. He had shown up too many times on this ill-advised tour of Alliance HQ for it to be a coincidence.

The man stared directly into her eyes, making her bristle and check her stride, and shook his head. He looked meaningfully at his wristcomp, and she flushed in anger. He knew she should be elsewhere and was chiding her for her lateness. How did he know who she was, and how dared he look at her like that? If she hadn’t been in the midst of a crowd, he wouldn’t look so condescending. He nodded up the concourse and she flicked a glance that way. The toads were continuing on their tour oblivious to the fact she had stopped.

Good enough.

Kate hefted her kit and lost herself in the crowd before the toads saw her. She knew the route to the training centre. She had been there before when her old captain recruited her. Captain Newell hadn’t been too bad for an officer. He had seen the killer in her and nurtured it by pushing her to try for her marksman’s certificate, which had inevitably led to other training. She had enjoyed learning so many ways to practice her craft.

Kate didn’t need a weapon to do her job, but she much preferred the HTR to any other weapon. The Heavy Tactical Rifle was a precision railgun with a range close to a klick and a half. What she liked about it was its untraceability and the terror it inflicted on those near the target. Unlike every plasma weapon ever produced, railguns and other projectile weapons did not give away their presence with a glaring display of released energy. Being traced by the simple expedient of following an energy pulse by eye, wasn’t something she ever wanted to deal with. Those who thought projectile weapons outdated and crude were fools—dead fools quite often.

She turned down an empty corridor and used the low gravity to make up some time. At least she was on the right level. Loping along, she soon reached the hatch at the end, but she skidded to a halt well short of it when she saw the black uniformed sergeants guarding it.

Her mouth went dry and her heart raced at the sight of the cyborgs. Her trigger finger twitched. She fought her fear not realising that the snarl on her face had been seen. Cyborgs were not human, they were machines that looked like people, they were dangerous and should be dismantled, they let Bethany’s people die during the Merki War. It didn’t matter that vipers liberated her world in the end, it didn’t matter that without them the Alliance would likely have been scorched beyond recovery, it didn’t matter—

Kate took a deep steadying breath and expelled it. Another, and calm began to return. Her childhood lessons on Bethany whispered in her mind of terror and destruction, but she throttled the fear with the simple expedient of overwhelming it with anger. Anger was good; she was intimately familiar with anger. It overwhelmed her fear. She was no child to feel threatened by the bogeyman!

“Orders,” one of the cyborgs growled with his right hand upon his pulser.

Kate approached warily. Her body was loose, prepared to kill if the need arose. If the cyborgs attacked, as everyone on Bethany said was certain sure, she would sell her life dearly. She didn’t like the knowledge that she was at this thing’s mercy. People were at her mercy, not the other way around. It upset her view of the universe knowing these things existed and that they were infinitely more deadly than she.

The cyborg inserted Kate’s card into its reader and quickly scanned her simcode. He scowled at the result the reader displayed. “You’re late, Private.”

“And?” Kate said with eyes tracking from one cyborg to the other.

“And you had better get in there.”

The cyborg flicked the card toward her making her grab for it. She caught it against her chest. The hatch slid open and she edged sideways through it keeping the machines in sight every second. The hatch slid shut and locked, but she didn’t take chances. She backed for a hundred metres before loping down the corridor. When the second hatch came into sight with its guards, she was ready and more in control of herself.

“You’re late,” the female looking thing said handing her card back.

Kate didn’t answer.

The thing looked at Kate strangely for a moment before its eyes flicked to her uniform. Kate saw recognition flash into its eyes when it saw the ranger patch on her shoulder and linked it to Bethany. The thing’s face turned to stone, and its right hand slapped the hatch’s sensor… hard.

The hatch slid open, and again Kate backed through. She waited for it to close and lock before turning her attention upon the waiting room. She knew this place of old, but never had she seen the corridors adjoining it so full of people.

Soldiers in battle dress were entering and exiting the rooms seemingly at random. Battle dress was pretty much standard within the Alliance. It was composed of camouflage tunic and trousers with the lower legs bloused and tucked into boot tops as per regulations. Kate felt over dressed in her Class-A uniform (full dress uniform including medals) and couldn’t wait to get into her own battle dress so that she might blend in more readily. She was feeling exposed, not good for any ISS agent, and certainly not good for Kate Richmond.

“Planning on standing there all day?”

Kate’s eyes flew to the officer sitting behind the desk. She paled when she realised the lieutenant was another of the machines. How many were running loose in this place?

“Is this how you report to a superior officer, Private?”

Kate had no choice, but it was galling. She saluted and walked the last few steps to stand at attention before the desk. “PFC Richmond, reporting as ordered.”

“You’re late. Sightseeing were you?”

Kate clenched a fist. “Not willingly.”

“I know about the two cretins you were with, Richmond. They have no call on you. You,
and
both of them, had orders to report here at oh-seven-hundred. You should have informed them of the fact and then reported here.”

Kate clamped her lips shut. How dare this thing, this
machine
, berate her? She was not in the wrong… well all right, she was, but only a little bit! She released her pent breath and acknowledged the rebuke with a nod. Though annoying, it was just.

“I should have, but they outrank me.”

The lieutenant pursed her lips then said, “For the record, and for the duration of your testing, you have no superiors not wearing viper uniform. Understood?”

Kate blinked in confusion. “No. I see many who outrank me here.”

“Wrong. All are of equal rank while undergoing the testing. You will respect all those here, but orders will come only from those authorised to give them, namely viper personnel.”

“Yes, ma’am,” she said doubtfully.

“My name is Lieutenant Hymas, and these are the rules. Regardless of your prejudices you will address me with respect—by rank or by the use of, sir or ma’am. Any other form of derogatory address to any viper will see you out of here
and
the service.” Hymas’ eyes flashed. “I
guarantee
it.”

“I
am
from Bethany’s World, ma’am, but I’m somewhat different to most living there.”

“I know,” Hymas said tapping her consol meaningfully. “It’s lucky for you in a way. In my opinion it will be a miracle if any from Bethany pass this testing. Other worlds are more tolerant of differences. That could be important later.”

“How so, ma’am?”

“I can’t say, and you are late. Your room is already taken. I have just assigned one of the spares to you. Walk to your left and enter room three-seventeen. You have some catching up to do. I suggest you get on with it.”

Kate saluted in haste and struggled through the crowded corridor to her room. Inside was utilitarian, but clean. She rather liked the beige colour of her table and chair. Firstly, she stowed her kit and changed into battle dress. Feeling better, she switched on her terminal and read the instructions. Moments later she was typing like a demon intent on proving to that damn…
woman
that she could ace any damn test a cyborg could think up.

* * *

“What do you think of her, Marion?” Master Sergeant Stone said buttoning his uniform and discarding the garish civ clothing he had worn on his tour of the concourse.

“I think she’s a bigoted snot. A damn dangerous one,” Lieutenant Hymas said, watching the retreating figure of PFC Richmond.

“Psychotic?”

“Beyond a doubt. She has a killer’s eyes. She’s not viper material, Ken. No one from Bethany is.”

“I don’t know about that. I thought she was going to kill those two Captains. They were leading her around like a damn tourist, and she was getting madder than hell. Her eyes were like laser turrets when she saw me for the third time. Damn glad she didn’t have her gear with her… not that she needs it.”

“She’s unenhanced, Ken. You have nothing to worry about—not yet at least. If I had my way she would be packed off to the psychs right now.”

“But you don’t,” Colonel Flowers said as he rounded the corner. “The General was specific and so are our requirements. She fits the profile, as do all the others here. We test the most likely candidates first, then the second best, then the third and so on until we have what we need.”

“Begging your pardon, Colonel,” Stone said. “But you know that method is as likely as any other to give us washouts. I’ve seen it and so have the both of you.”

Flowers nodded. “True, but it’s as good a way as any. Even if we had green recruits that fit the profile, which we don’t, they would take too long to train. You both know what’s required to survive enhancement. Finding recruits that can survive the process is hard enough. Finding some with the discipline and the mental strength to live with the results has proven almost impossible.”

Stone nodded reluctantly. “Marian thinks our little secret agent is a psycho.”

Flowers frowned and turned to Hymas. “A hunch or your expert medical opinion?”

“A little of both. She hates any kind of command authority, and tolerates it only to stay in the job. She will always find a way to avoid responsibilities, usually by picking a fight and getting busted. Her record is full of disciplinary offences. She’s been demoted five times from staff sergeant, three from corporal and get this:
eight
times recommended for promotion to master sergeant, all denied. They picked her for the ISS after she nearly killed her commanding officer with her bare hands. What does that say to you?”

Flowers smiled crookedly. “It says we have another Ken Stone on our hands.”

Stone spluttered. “That’s not fair, I didn’t kill you did I? Besides, I was only a kid back then. Two hundred and thirty years mellows a guy.”

“We don’t have two hundred and thirty years, Ken. We barely have five if the General is right.”

“Always is,” Stone said gloomily. “That’s a damn annoying habit he’s got there.”

Hymas glared in frustration. “Enhancing that girl, assuming she passes her psych eval, which I doubt she can, is a
mistake!
She’s too damn dangerous.”

“Vipers are dangerous,” Flowers said coldly. “We’re meant to be dangerous. You know how the process changes us. Some mellow while others become more aggressive, and it’s a tossup which.”

“If Richmond gets any more aggressive than she is now, we’ll need a damn sight more than ten units to stop her.”

“Make sure it doesn’t happen.”