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  If Zhoh had thought he had been surprised before, he was truly astounded now. Still, he said nothing, showed no reaction, and controlled the release of pheromones as his body threatened to subvert his control.

  “Rangha had powerful friends looking over him,” Belnale went on. “Such things change slowly among our people. Too slowly. Tradition has become more important than honor to some, and it is meant to provide a layer of protection to warriors who are no longer good enough to follow—or serve, which is intolerable. I intend to excise the weakness from our culture once again. To do that, I will need honorable warriors. I want you to be one of those warriors.”

  Zhoh’s surprise gave way to pride. “Of course, General.”

  “You see why there must be no record of my visit here. My plan will take time to develop strength and hone its edge. If I step forward too soon, if I am premature, my goals will not be recognized and will go unmet.”

  “Yes, General. Tell me what I must do.”

  Belnale’s chelicerae rippled in excitement. “Do what you were born to do, Captain. Destroy your enemies and protect the Empire. Kill Colonel Echcha, and the others if necessary, and take your rightful place as the leader of these warriors. Then deliver this world to the War Board.”

  “I will, General.”

  “I wish you strength and cunning.” Belnale faded from view as the comm disconnected.

  Excitement coursed through Zhoh as he looked around his quarters. The krayari beetles, kept there to clean his suite, scuttled to the corner, angry and starving because he hadn’t fed them. He had been stoking their hunger for Echcha’s dead flesh. A meter in length, the carnivorous insects reared on their back legs threateningly, but they didn’t approach him.

  Soon he would have the general’s quarters. He would kill whomever he needed to, and he would enslave Makaum for the Empire. All that he had lost would return to him.

  Med Center

  Fort York

  1409 Hours Zulu Time

  Sage felt someone’s eyes on him and woke instantly, not moving because he felt a weight against him. Noojin slept propped up against his shoulder. Not believing he had slept as well, chalking it up to the drugs still floating in his system, he looked up.

  Gilbride approached from down the hallway with a PAD in hand.

  Stomach tight, dreading what was to come, Sage looked the question at the doctor.

  “He’s out of surgery,” Gilbride said with a weary smile.

  “What surgery? I thought he was okay except for a few burns.”

  “There was a brain bleed that showed up later. I’ve got that taken care of. He’s got a couple bad burns, but we can regrow skin for that in the next eight hours. I’m going to try to keep him in bed, but he can be as bad a patient as you are.”

  “I’ll make sure he understands he’s supposed to do what you say,” Sage said.

  Gilbride shook his head. “Yeah, like you’d be the one to tell him.”

  Noojin sat up then, and looked embarrassed to find herself asleep against Sage. Then she saw Gilbride. “Jahup?”

  Gilbride smiled at her. “Jahup is going to be fine. He’s out of surgery and breathing on his own.”

  “What about the coma?”

  “We brought him around and he’s responding well. He came out of it on his own.”

  “Can I see him?”

  “He’s sedated,” Gilbride warned. “We’re going to keep him under for a few more hours and let the medical nanobots do the necessary repair work.”

  “It doesn’t matter if he’s asleep.”

  “He won’t know you’re there.”

  “I’ll know I’m there.”

  “Yes, I suppose you will.” Gilbride spoke briefly into his comm and asked for a medtech. In less than a minute, one joined them and took Noojin away. Gilbride turned back to Sage. “I was surprised to see you sitting with her this long.”

  “She needed someone. She doesn’t have family.”

  Gilbride scowled. “I know. That also means she’s not going to have anyone looking out for her when she’s back in the sprawl. You know she shot somebody else besides the guy who nearly killed Jahup and the other soldier, right?”

  Sage nodded. “A local named Throzath. Somebody else.” That was in the report.

  “Well, Throzath isn’t happy about being shot. If you watch those vids, and I have, Noojin shot Throzath without real reason.”

  “That man was interfering in a med recovery op,” Sage said with more venom than he’d intended.

  Gilbride held up his hands in surrender. “I’m not the enemy here, Master Sergeant. You don’t have to convince me. But Noojin’s actions are going to cause problems because not a lot of public sympathy has been generated for her.”

  “She did the right thing in my book.”

  Gilbride lowered his hands. “You’re not the only one keeping score. When you’re a medical person on a world like this, where kids get sick or hurt and you’re willing to treat them, you make friends among the local populace. I have. I’ve had more than a couple grateful parents tell me that Throzath plans to get revenge on Noojin once she’s away from the fort.”

  “That was another reason you wanted me to be with her.”

  Gilbride nodded. “I knew she’d be safe with you.” He sighed. “But she’s not going to be safe out there.”

  “I can’t touch Throzath. Civil disobedience doesn’t fall under our charter. I can’t shove a Roley in somebody’s face and make them like the Terran military.”

  “No,” Gilbride agreed, “but I’m pretty sure a murder attempt against a Terran military soldier does fall under our agreement with the Quass.”

  “Throzath didn’t pull the trigger on Jahup and Tanest. Noojin killed the man who did that.”

  “Yes, she did, but the man who did pull that trigger came by that plasma burster by other means than his own.”

  Sage shook his head. “Weapons have been scattered all over the sprawl. We can’t stay ahead of the black market supplying them.”

  Gilbride smiled. “I know, but what if I can put that weapon in Throzath’s hands?”

  “You can do that?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That would change things.”

  “I thought it might,” Gilbride said. “Do you have time to look at what I’ve found?”

  “I do.”

  Room 1146

  Med Center

  Fort York

  1422 Hours Zulu Time

  Noojin sat on the hard bench outside the hospital room where Jahup lay unconscious in bed. A tube ran into his mouth, and much of his body was wrapped in something that a nurse had told Noojin was some kind of cyber-assisted skin graft bandage. Around him, machines beeped and clicked and gave digital readouts.

  Despite the fear and sadness that had muted inside her only through exhaustion, Noojin still had to work to keep herself from crying. She felt so helpless.

  And so alone.

  Truthfully, though, she’d felt so alone she almost hadn’t been able to stand it since the day she’d stopped speaking to Jahup. Now she couldn’t even think why she would do something so absurd.

  She just wanted him back so he could tell her how stupid she was being.

  The door to the small room opened and Telilu peeked inside. She was Jahup’s younger sister, only eight years old and still so innocent in so many ways despite everything that had happened lately on Makaum. Her hair was green-tinted, but it would get darker as she got older. She wore shorts and a pullover top with some cartoon character that was popular on the sims imported by the offworld merchants.

  “Noojin?” the little girl asked.

  Immediately, Noojin straightened herself up. Telilu couldn’t see her like this.

  “Yeah, Twig?” Noojin responded.

  Telilu frowned. “Don’t call me that.”

  “Okay.”

  Wide-eyed, Telilu gazed through the transplas that separated them from Jahup.

  “I was at home with Kel
cero’s mom when I heard Jahup was hurt,” Telilu said softly. “She was watching me because the Quass asked.”

  “I’m sorry you had to cut your visit short,” Noojin said. “You should have stayed. I know how much you like spending time with Kelcero.”

  “Nobody knew if Jahup was going to be okay,” Telilu said, “and the Quass went into space to speak to a growly-faced man.”

  Evidently Telilu had been spying on her grandmother again. It was almost humorous enough to make Noojin laugh.

  “I wanted to come see Jahup and make sure he is going to be all right.”

  “He’s going to be all right,” Noojin assured her.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure.” Noojin held her arms out. “Come over here and sit with me.”

  Slowly, Telilu came to Noojin and allowed herself to be placed on Noojin’s lap. “So we can watch him sleep?”

  “Yes,” Noojin said. “So we can watch him sleep.”

  She held the little girl and they listened to the machines work. At least now, whatever happened, she wouldn’t have to face it alone, and with Telilu there, she felt more hopeful.

  FIFTEEN

  Med Center

  Fort York

  1436 Hours Zulu Time

  Gilbride placed his palm against a reader and a door at the end of the narrow hallway whooshed open, letting Sage know the room beyond was airtight as well. They stopped in a small airlock as the door behind them shut. Immediately, a fine sterilization mist drifted over them, creating a momentary flash of colors.

  On the other side of the transplas door, a gleaming array of med equipment sat around a long stainless steel table. The naked body of an old man lay on the table. The dead man’s skin was sallow, covered in small sores and old scars. Sage almost didn’t recognize the body as Oeldo, the man who’d attacked Jahup.

  Around Sage, the room hummed, then a green light flashed and the second transplas door opened with another whoosh. Gilbride entered the room and Sage followed. His boots clacked against the stainless steel floor. Med equipment powered up as Gilbride swept his PAD over the room.

  Sage stood to the side of the table and peered down at the dead man.

  Oeldo was old, used up by the excesses he’d been addicted to. His flesh hung in greasy clumps, already separating muscle and fat, striations showing the weakening connective tissue.

  Shoving a hand over the corpse, Gilbride gestured and swept his hand the length of the dead man’s body. Instantly, a transparent holo of the corpse popped up above the table. “This is your shooter. He’d been killing himself slowly. Alcohol poisoning, mostly. The man’s liver was a cesspool of toxins.”

  “He was in bad shape,” Sage said. “I don’t see how that helps.”

  “He was a time bomb waiting to go off.” Gilbride waved his hand again and all the holo disappeared.

  “Did he know?”

  “Yeah, he knew.” Gilbride took a breath. “He had a local doctor who was treating him. Trying to treat him. Quass Leghef cleared the red tape so I could talk to the woman. This guy”—he pointed angrily at the dead man—“chose to ignore what he was being told and kept drinking.”

  “He was sober enough to use a blaster.”

  “If Noojin hadn’t killed him, he’d have been dead in another couple of hours anyway from a drug overdose.” Gilbride waved his hand again. “You’ve heard of vesgar.”

  Sage nodded. He and Jahup had come across a drug lab that had made it. “Locals call it Snakedream.”

  “This guy was loaded with it. This drug is expensive. Whoever gave the drug to this man wanted to make certain the attack on our people wouldn’t come back on him. I took a closer look to see how all the vesgar ended up in this guy. That’s when I found this.” Gilbride pointed to the inside of the dead man’s right elbow.

  Sage peered closely, looking at the mottled skin. “I don’t see anything.”

  Gilbride gestured and a green thread ran up the dead man’s right arm, through his heart, and up the right carotid in his neck to join the cloud in his skull.

  “What am I looking at?” Sage asked. “More Snakedream?”

  “Yeah. Definitely more. Somebody used a hypospray to inject liquid vesgar into him.”

  “Did he know what he was doing when he attacked Jahup and Tanest?”

  “He was in command of his faculties enough to know what he was doing. But he had been primed, Master Sergeant. With drugs and with a mission.”

  “You said you could tell me who did point him at Jahup?”

  Gilbride gestured again. An orange oval appeared on the inside of Oeldo’s elbow. When the doctor gestured again, the oval lifted and floated in midair.

  Peering closer, Sage recognized what it was. “A fingerprint?”

  “A thumbprint, actually.” Gilbride smiled. “I have four fingerprints on the other side of that arm.” He signaled again, and four more smaller ovals appeared and floated up. “Did you know that anyone who ships cargo offline has to register with ports that we control?”

  Understanding fell into place for Sage. “You know who these prints belong to.”

  “I do.” Gilbride touched his PAD and opened a window in the holo above the dead body.

  An image unfolded there and showed the smug face of a young Makaum man that Sage recognized from the vid of the attack. “Throzath.”

  “Exactly.” Gilbride waved at the table again and a complex, twisted triple chain blinked into being.

  “What’s that?” Sage asked.

  “That,” Gilbride said, “is Makaum DNA. It matches what’s on file for Throzath, and it matches DNA from one of the epithelial cells I recovered from the plasma burster Oeldo used in his attack.”

  “Throzath’s prints are on the blaster too?”

  “Not his prints, but he left some skin cells behind. In addition, I found some from a Zukimther female, so I think we know where the plasma came from.” Gilbride tapped his PAD again and three more sets of DNA, all of them triple chains, manifested as well. “I also have three more DNA samples, but no hits on identification. I’ll bet you breakfast that Throzath knows who they belong to.”

  Sage was already thinking about what he could do with the information. “I’ll buy you breakfast anyway. I think I’m going to go find out who Throzath’s accomplices are.”

  Gilbride held up his PAD. “Would you like to know where he is?”

  Sage grinned. “You’re full of surprises today, Doc.”

  “I figured it would take some of the sting out of having you laid up for a few hours.”

  “Jury’s out on that.”

  “I’ll take what I can get. I’m sending you Throzath’s coordinates.”

  “Where did you get them?”

  “From Mr. Huang. He heard about what happened in the sprawl today and assigned one of his ‘nephews’ to keep an eye on Throzath. Then he told me once he heard you were in the med unit.”

  “Man’s got a lot of family here.”

  “That he does.”

  “Thanks, Doc.”

  “Should I tell anyone where you are?” Gilbride asked innocently. “In case they ask?”

  “You think I can send this up the pipe to the general? Get the okay to arrest Throzath for the attack?”

  “Nope. That’s why I wanted to tell you this off the record. Be safe out there, Master Sergeant. I don’t want to see you on one of my tables again soon.”

  “Roger that.” Sage pulled his helmet on and walked through the airlock. He thought about contacting Kiwanuka, but she was busy doing whatever it was she was doing, and he didn’t want to distract her.

  SIXTEEN

  Interview Room C

  Security Building

  Fort York

  1501 Hours Zulu Time

  Standing with folded arms, Kiwanuka stared through the observation window into the room where Rakche Darrantia sat with her hands cuffed behind her. Watching the alien female leaning in her chair with her eyes closed and looking unconcerned, Kiw
anuka’s irritation grew.

  “I think she’s sleeping,” Corporal Tom Culpepper stated.

  Even without the AKTIVsuit, the man was massive, tall and broad. In combat gear, he looked big enough to be a monolith, and he was barely able to stand without banging his head against the ceiling. He held his helmet in one fist at his hip. His face was moon-shaped and innocent, pasty skin covered in freckles despite exposure to the elements. His blond hair was shaved almost to his scalp.

  “Maybe you hit her harder than you think you did, Staff Sergeant Kiwanuka,” Corporal Owen Pingasa suggested.

  Like Culpepper, Pingasa stood at the window with his helmet at his hip, and like Culpepper, Pingasa was young. He was one of the fort’s cyber experts, a specialist in drones and automated systems. His dark skin set him apart from Culpepper, as did the singsong Malawi accent that he refused to give up. “I saw the vid of the takedown. You face-planted her pretty good.”

  “You’re gonna call that a face?” Culpepper asked. “I’ll bet toilet seats have seen better features.”

  “You should tell her that,” Pingasa said, tapping his temple. “Plant that seed of doubt in her. Let her know that her looks aren’t going to get her out of the trouble that she’s in.”

  Studying the alien female stretched out in the straight-backed chair, looking almost comfortable, Kiwanuka had to admit that Darrantia looked asleep. Or dead.

  “Maybe she committed suicide so she wouldn’t have to talk,” Pingasa said.

  “How would she do that with her hands cuffed?” Culpepper asked.

  “Poison pill in a fake tooth.”

  Culpepper shook his big head. “Pretty sure Voreusks don’t have teeth, and I think the medtechs would have caught a fake tooth in that beak. You’ve been reading too many spy novels.”

  “She could have killed herself another way.” Pingasa leaned forward to peer more closely at the prisoner. His breath fogged the surface.