Metal Boxes - Trapped Outside (23 page)

Whizzer said, “Okay then. Agent Ryte, what is Doctor Triplett accused of doing?”

“Treason, murder, and attempted murder.”

A low murmur rumbled through the crowd. Most knew about the treason—murder was a new issue. Whizzer held up his hand for quiet. “Settle down, people. Agent Ryte, we are all familiar with your arrest of Doctor Triplett on charges of treason and her admission of the same. I suggest we hold that charge in abeyance.”

Stone asked, “Why not try her? I think—”

Whizzer interrupted, “Shut up, Ensign Stone. You put me in charge, so that means it doesn’t matter what you think at this point.”

Stone knew a command when he heard it and shut his mouth.

Whizzer said, “Treason against the Emperor should be more thoroughly investigated by the EMIS than what Ryte has done here. No offense, Agent Ryte, however, if we tried and found Doctor Triplett guilty of treason, we would be obliged to sentence her. She may or may not have been sending information directly to the Hyrocanians, she was most likely operating through an intermediary. If I were the Emperor, not only would I want to know if Triplett was guilty, I’d want to know who she was working with.”

Ryte said, “Murder also carries stiff penalties.”

Whizzer shrugged, “She hasn’t been proven guilty of murder or attempted murder. She may not be.”

Ryte began listing Triplett’s crimes in chronological order and calling for witnesses to verify facts. Triplett sputtered and complained, trying to dig holes in the witness statements, but everything was clear cut. Doctor Arnold admitted he’d given a cup of tea to Private Tighe. He even admitted he’d been given the cup by Triplett and told to give it Tighe. He denied knowing Triplett had doctored the drink. Stone wanted to believe Arnold knew he was drugging Tighe, but he couldn’t sense a lie. The man had known he was giving the marine tea that might help her sleep, but he didn’t know it was spiked with stolen morphine. He admitted that he agreed with Triplett’s politics, but he was more than a little upset she had used him in her plan to commit murder. Triplett couldn’t deny doctoring the drink. She claimed killing Tighe was self-defense, that if she hadn’t killed the marine, Tighe would have killed her.

When it was Stone’s turn to give his statement, he shrugged and hit the playback button on his dataport. Everyone was surprised he’d been recording everything. Most people didn’t record the activities going on around them while they slept. The recording clearly showed Triplett sneaking up on Stone in the dark and attempting to stab him in the chest.

The murmur of the crowd grew louder when the dataport finally shut down. Whizzer waved his hands “Okay, people. Keep it down or I will have to have you removed.”

Triplett realized there wasn’t any need to explain, although she spent an inordinate amount of time trying to explain how everything she had done was to save everyone. It was her firm belief they were all going to die in this jungle and their only option was to seek mercy at the hands of the Hyrocanians, a race she believed was vastly misunderstood. More than one civilian juror nodded in sympathy and agreement with Triplett, especially when she rambled on about the war mongering military complex and their government lobbyists.

Finally, Whizzer made Triplett shut up. “You are going over the same ground again, Doctor Triplett. The jurors will go off by themselves, return once they’ve made their decision, and tell us what they voted.”

Most people sat and chatted among themselves as they waited to the jury to return. Many stayed because Dollish took the time to cook another huge pot of stew with some anonymous meat, nameless tubers, unidentified grains, and assorted berries. Everyone continued to hang around, resting in the shade of the overhead camouflage tarps, wandering off to do some chore, and then wandering back.

After a lengthy wait, in frustration, Whizzer sent Tuttle off to find and ask the jury what the holdup was. She came back and shrugged, “They said they ain’t coming back until they’re ready.” That brought a rumble from the crowd. There wasn’t anyone who wasn’t ready to admit Triplett had killed Tighe and tried to kill Stone, whatever her motives, she was guilty.

Whizzer quashed any talk about finding the jury guilty of collusion with Triplett for not coming back with a quick guilty verdict. He sat quietly reading through geology reports on his dataport, working to overlay aerial maps with tectonic evidence from earlier deep scans. He didn’t appear to be happy waiting, but he was making good use of his time.

Stone tried to emulate the man, running through some scenarios on his dataport, searching for the right combination of people to try throwing a kink in any Hyrocanian plans to take and keep the system. He knew he should be more angry about the Hyrocanians killing his cousins, Vance and Marvin, along with their families and crew, but he wasn’t. He was angrier that the four armed freaks were trying to take his planet away from him. He had named it after his girlfriend and didn’t want the planet renamed after some Hyrocanian garbage collector or something.

No matter how he tried to figure it out, there wasn’t any way to build an effective squad of people for a foray against a well-defended settlement. There just weren’t enough healthy humans on the planet. He was unceremoniously dumped into the dirt when Jay and Peebee jumped to their feet wonking loudly. Both drascos raced to the canyon wall. Stone couldn’t smell or hear any danger, but something had set the girls off. He shouted and everyone raced to their defensive positions.

THIRTY

Stone leapt to the wall, scrambling up to secure a spot where he could rest his rifle against the top. He wished his newfound abilities had included super strength or super speed. With one of those abilities, he might not be one of the last people on the wall as a dozen suited and unsuited marines beat him to their defensive positions. Not having speed or strength, he scanned the clearing between the wall and the edge of the jungle with his better than average eyesight. The only thing his sense of smell could detect was the latrine pits scattered around a series of bushes along the cliffs.

The marine in the middle of the wall shouted, “Twelve o’clock.” A bright red laser round tumbled from the end of the marine’s gun. The round was non-lethal and directional, trailing a tube of light smoke and a directional beacon. Its purpose was pointing out where an enemy might be located, illuminating a streak in a straight line. The laser beam also helped the enemy follow the indicator back to the rifleman, consequently, marines rarely used the round in combat.

Stone stared through the morning glare, struggling to see in the deep shadows. They had seen scant movement of any kind since the crab swarm killed every living thing in its path. The native fauna was hesitant to venture into an area so devoid of other creatures. Walking through such an area would be like being the only entree at a carnivore’s buffet. Hearing a loud wonk, he glanced behind him. Jay and Peebee were excited about something, but neither could put anything into words.

A marine using enhanced infrared vision shouted, “Meat on the hoof.”

Numos called out, “Hold your fire.” He glanced around at Stone and shrugged, “Until we can identify exactly what we are shooting at, I don’t want to piss something off, even if we need the food.”

Jay raced up the wall, her talons tearing away huge chunks of rock. Brushing aside marines, she slithered over the wall and down the other side. Peebee followed along, half a step behind. Both drascos halted in the middle of the buffer zone, stretched to their full height and bellowed a challenge to something in the trees. To anyone unfamiliar with drascos, it looked like they were angry, their tails were flicking back and forth in unspoken excitement.

A trio of drascos edged out of the trees. They hesitated and didn’t approach. The middle of the trio raised herself to her full height, flapped her vestigial wings, and hooted loudly. The other two bracketed her in defensive positions, hunching as low to the ground as they could, their tails scorpioned over their heads, bone spikes tapping the ground in front of them.

Stone could hear Jay and Peebee calling to the new drascos. “
Play! Do you want to play
?” and “
We can be friends
.” All he could hear from the new trio was a series of grunts and whistles. He didn’t expect local fauna to have picked up Empire Standard like his drascos, but their vocal noises didn’t sound like any kind of a language to him, just animal noises. He glanced around. It didn’t appear anyone was picking up either side of the drasco conversation and it didn’t appear Jay or Peebee understood the trio any better than he did. Still, he had to admit, what he could hear of Hyrocanian speech didn’t sound like intelligent conversation either.

Stone heard a safety click off on a weapon along the wall. He shouted, “Hold your fire.” He glanced back at Numos. “Sir, I know we need food, but not drascos. Tests on their level of intelligence haven’t given us a true reading on how smart they might be. We eat what we have to, just not drascos.”

The three drascos edged around Jay and Peebee, dashing back into the jungle following the crab swarm trail. The last one glanced over her shoulder, grabbed a bush thick with red leaves, stuffed it into her mouth and followed her two sisters, disappearing into the underbrush.

Jay and Peebee, calling out to them one last time, wonked sadly and climbed back into the canyon, entering sedately through the small gap. Stone shouldered his rifle and went to join his drascos.

Peebee whined, “
We just wanted to be friends. Why wouldn’t they play with us?

Jay asked, “
Mama, why wouldn’t they even talk to us?
”

Stone caught a whiff of wet, dark chocolate, just as Allie slipped a hand into his. She said, “The girls are upset that the new kids on the block wouldn’t come out and play?”

Stone nodded, looked her in the eye, and threw caution to the wind. There wasn’t anyone else in earshot. He spoke to his drascos. “Jay and Peebee, it’s nice of you to greet those three visitors, but you need to remember, they aren’t like you.”

Jay asked, “
Because they are three and we are only two?”

Stone nodded, “That may be part of why they ran off.” He could feel Allie tense up, but she didn’t let go of his hand. “They were three and you’re only two. That may make you more dangerous in their eyes. We don’t know. You can’t expect them to speak like us because no one ever taught them. Maybe they speak their own language and maybe not.”

Peebee looked in the direction the drascos had gone, “
We told them we wanted to be friends. I like Mama and all of the not-us—”

“
Humans,.
” Jay interrupted.

Peebee continued, “
Yes, humans. We like humans, but we want to know more of us, too.
”

Stone said, “You girls have to remember you weren’t raised like them.”

Jay said, “
Yes, we were raised like humans. We are going to be marines when we grow up.”

Stone chuckled. He glanced at Allie and shrugged. “You might as well know, either I’m insane or Jay just told me she wants to be a marine when she grows up.”

Allie asked, “You can hear them?”

Stone nodded and tapped his ears, “I’m not sure it’s all hearing, maybe a mental buzzing, or just some crazy way I’m interpreting some odd vibrations, but yeah, I can hear them.”

Allie asked, “Just like you can see Tuttle when her suit is in its gilley setting?”

Stone shrugged, “Well, no … um, sort of,”

“Have you told Doctor Menendez?”

“No. I hope you won’t either.”

Allie said, “My Aunt Linsette had a pet cat she swore could talk. Of course, she was batshit crazy. I guess so long as you don’t start foaming at the mouth—”

Stone was about to respond when Whizzer dashed up to them. He still wasn’t sure he wanted anyone to know he could talk to the drascos and they could talk back, so he dropped the subject waiting for the scientist to speak.

Whizzer said, “I think I have a valid plan to attack the Hyrocanians.”

THIRTY-ONE

Much to everyone’s frustration, except Doctor Triplett, the civilian jury refused to bring in a verdict. Even with five of them, they hadn’t been able to gain a majority vote one way or the other. No one, even the jury themselves, had considered the possibility it would be two for guilty, two for not guilty, and one abstention. Everyone, including the jury admitted she was guilty, but the two scientists voting not guilty were convinced she was justified in her attempts to protect everyone, at least in her own mind. They conceded yes, she was guilty, but they believed her motivations were sincere and honest, and that should count for something. The longer the jury argued and the more analysis they did, the more paralyzed they became until Whizzer announced the only possible solution was an immediate appeal.

Stone shrugged. He didn’t want to pass judgment on someone who tried to kill him. He hadn’t had to do that the last time someone attempted to murder him. With a laugh, he announced he would allow Triplett to walk into the Hyrocanian settlement and plead her case before them.

He understood the desire to enact the death penalty and kill her. A flash of insight told him why; the last time someone tried to kill him, they’d just stuffed him in an empty shuttle and tossed him into hyperspace. Saying someone needed to die and actually committing murder were two different things. Sometimes it’s easier to let the jungle, to let hyperspace, or even to allow the Hyrocanians to do your bad deeds for you.

He hadn’t really thought the Hyrocanian threat through to the end because now he stood at the edge of the jungle with Triplett standing at his back. Having a murderer and a traitor along wasn’t a recipe for success on what was little more than a suicide mission.

Marine Sergeant Li, dressed in a fully functioning suit, wrapped his arms around Stone, hefting him from the ground. Li shouted through his open faceplate. “Everyone is a volunteer, so now is the time to back out if you’ve changed your mind.” Everyone ignored Triplett’s raised hand and protesting voice.

Numos said, “Continue on passive scans only, people, as we move away from the canyon we don’t want to give away our position or theirs. We still don’t know if the Hyrocanians are scanning for us. I know I would be if I were them.” He wiggled an unsuited finger and a giant suited marine picked Triplett up, ignoring her flailing. Stone didn’t want Triplett along any more than she wanted to go, but what he realized—and she didn’t—was leaving her behind would guarantee her death. Too many others were convinced of her guilt and far too many of those were unwilling to wait for her appeals. Besides, she was their foremost expert on Hyrocanians, whether she would help them understand them or not, whether she would help them defeat them or not, whether she would betray them or not, were all valid questions. Questions he didn’t have any answers to. She was still a citizen of the Empire and had her rights. She had not been condemned to death for treason or murder and needed to be protected from anyone’s sense of vigilante justice, no matter how much he agreed with it.

Other marines picked up Numos, Whizzer, Ryte, and Private Charles Eaton, an enemy weapons intelligence specialist. In all, Whizzer’s plan would succeed or fail on six suited marines carrying two scientists, an EMIS agent, a marine officer, a low ranking enlisted marine, and the planetary governor. The plan was the least stupid one offered, and it had little chance of success with so few people in its strike force, but they had to try something to slow the Hyrocanians down until the navy could force their way back into the system.

Despite protests by everyone, the most vocal being Lieutenant Vedrian and Corporal Tuttle, Stone refused to risk more lives on a plan that was more stupid than just attacking the Hyrocanians barehanded. Taking anyone injured as badly as Allie was a risk, although even injured she was probably tougher than Whizzer and him combined. Tuttle may have been in a suit, but she and the suit were missing a hand. That was the definition of not fully functioning. Stone even had a long argument with Menendez about his own status. Since she couldn’t find anything wrong with him, her argument that she couldn’t find anything right either, didn’t make much sense. Whether she delisted him from the injury reports or not, it didn’t matter. He was the governor and no one could tell him he couldn’t go on the raid against the Hyrocanian camp.

He didn’t want to leave Allie behind, but her injuries were more serious than she would admit. Tuttle admitted to having lost a hand, but claimed it wouldn’t slow her down. He wanted more marines with him, but he wouldn’t take anyone with injuries and he couldn’t strip all of the uninjured from the canyon. Butcher and Allie would need all the help they could get to defend and provide for everyone remaining.

He certainly hadn’t wanted to leave Jay and Peebee behind. He explained to them that they had to stay and protect Allie and their own babies. He still didn’t know if it took days, weeks, months or even years for drasco pregnancies to come to term. Not that it mattered to him, but the girls took the excuse as reason enough to not trail after him. They may be tough, environmentally adapted to this world, and fast on their feet, but they couldn’t keep up with marines in combat suits over long distances.

Sergeant Li took off at a ground eating pace, leaping from the small clearing in front of their wall to a small clearing a few hundred yards away. The man took two giant steps and bounced again, landing between two massive trees before leaping skyward again. Stone could tell the man was trying to run smoothly, yet each landing jarred his teeth and each leap forward left his stomach behind.

He wanted to blame his nausea on being outside, being anywhere without a decent ceiling, roof, or deck overhead, though he doubted that was the problem. It seemed bad things happened whether he was inside or outside, making him less agoraphobic than he’d once been. Sure, he would rather be inside, but that wasn’t an option right now. He could’ve hidden in a cave in the canyon wall, leaving the real work to everyone else, but he would rather risk open sky than hide.

After an hour, Li skidded to a stop on a rocky outcrop. They had covered sixty miles and suit or not, the man needed a rest. The other marines skidded to a quick halt soon after. Stone swallowed his own vomit as it rose in his throat. He didn’t have time to be ill. Unslinging his rifle, he took up a defensive position on the edge of the rock outcropping. His little weapon was a popgun compared to what the marines were carrying, but even in muscle-enhanced suits, they needed to catch their breath. Major Numos and Private Eaton also took up defensive positions.

Stone caught a brief whiff of cinnamon and then the odor was gone. He wasn’t sure what it meant. The odor was just odd and out of place, raising the hairs on the back of his neck. He spun around scanning all sides of the small bald knob. Jungle was on three sides and a small rocky stream ran along the fourth side. He caught Numos’s eye and shrugged. He couldn’t tell if the major felt something was off, but the man ordered half of the suited marines onto alert.

They might have to spend more time resting if their suited marines had to run and stand guard. The three marines jumped into position, slapping faceplates down, scanning in wide arcs, searching for danger and not finding any. The three remaining marines stood at rest.

Stone continued to fight his rising gorge. Just thinking about being carried by a marine made his stomach churn. He tried not to think about Whizzer’s plan. It involved their being carried for most of the day. He glanced at the scientist. Whizzer and Ryte were pouring over EMIS drone images and comparing them to Whizzer’s charts and maps. Neither appeared to be nauseated by their carrier’s motion any more than Numos. Stone wondered if Sergeant Li was the only one who couldn’t run smoothly.

He glanced over his shoulder, Li in his hulking suit, was standing watch over him while scanning the surrounding jungle. The man had replaced Tuttle as his personal babysitter, having been instructed by Allie to keep him alive or not come back. Numos’s mount was at his back. Stone glanced at Private Eaton and was secretly pleased to see he wasn’t the only one suffering from a bout of nausea. Eaton was positively green and gulping furiously at his canteen. Stone started gulping his canteen dry before realizing that would have a worse effect on his bladder than help his upset stomach.

Eaton tilted his canteen back, draining the last few drops. He wiggled the canteen at Private al-Julier, his suited buddy, gestured toward the rocky stream and ambled down the hill. The water looked clear and clean, even if it wasn’t, military canteens had built in filters capable of turning buffalo piss into safe drinking water as fast as a person could drink.

Stone caught a slight ripple in the water and another quick blast of cinnamon. He shouted, “No.”

Eaton looked back too late. A huge tentacle shot out of the water wrapping around the marine. Camouflaged to look like rocks on the stream bottom, the flowing water masked the creature’s odor. Quicker than thought, al-Julier bounced to help, but a second tentacle slapped the suited marine in the chest, sending him flying backward, rolling though dust and rocks.

The tentacle around Eaton squeezed, ripped the man into two pieces, and slithered back into the water, churning the previously clear stream into a muddy, red mess as it tore the marine into bite-sized chunks. Stone shifted his rifle to his shoulder, flipping off the safety.

“Hold your fire,” Numos shouted. Marine fingers twitched on triggers all over the small rock outcropping. Stone flicked his safety back on. “We can’t help Eaton by taking revenge on an animal doing nothing more than what an animal does and wasting ammo at the same time. Back away from the water. Give that thing a wide berth. Besides, we’re still too close to the canyon to risk giving our position away to the enemy.”

Li grunted in agreement. “For all we know, shooting that bitch may only piss it off and we’ve already seen proof that this shithole of a planet grows them tough. And damn me if I didn’t leave home without my pocket nuke!”