The Burning Crown (Stone Blade Book 4) (34 page)

BOOK: The Burning Crown (Stone Blade Book 4)
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"I understand, sir."

"I also suggest you complete your required rotations as quickly and as well as you can," continued Ionoski, "Because given the talents you displayed, and some mild influence your friends might exert, I cannot rule out a transfer to Protocol in your future."

"Yes sir," said Thompson weakly, "I'll do my best, sir."

"As for myself," said Ferrel, who now would not answer to his true names, no matter how hard Kidwell or Thompson tried, "I am looking forward to a pleasant meal for six at Irving's Evening Delight. I shall treat."

"Six," asked Micah.

"Six," confirmed Ferrel, "Because I, for one, cannot wait to see how you will explain to lovely Jennifer how she is to marry into royalty!"

The others laughed and spoke jovially on that, but not Micah. How would he explain it?

Chapter 21. Epilogue

 

The greenish sun of XXIV-2109-45-c, known to those who lived there as Picto, stood an hour before its peak for the day. Ken Tobart walked deliberately up the stairs leading to the administrative complex secondary offices building. Home to Caesar's 14,257th Legions, Picto's military complex covered a huge area with hundreds of buildings both short and tall, and all laid out with careful geometric precision. Caesar's citizens and soldiers went about their daily jobs and duties with purpose and order and blessedly little extraneous noise or conversation.

Though troubled, Tobart took comfort in the straight lines and sharp angles around him. He'd spent too long away from home and it felt good to breathe its air once more. He nodded to several people he knew, but only that. Neither he nor they had need to speak and he relished that they all knew it.

"Citizen Tobart," said Corvus Suetonius, clerical assistant to Tobart's commander, "He is expecting you. Hail Caesar!"

"Greetings, Corvus. Hail Caesar!"

Tobart walked through the doorway into a large office with a smaller desk than it should have. So many League fools attached importance to the size of the desk they had. Ridiculous! Vibius Rutilius Aquilinius had a desk exactly sized to his needs and it had no importance attached to it whatsoever. Importance came from the man seated there examining a datapad.

"Kenneth Tobart," said Aquilinius, "Hail Caesar!"

"Hail Caesar!"

Aquilinius rose and stepped around his desk to give Tobart a quick handclasp and embrace. Then he took his seat and indicated one for Tobart.

"I've read your report," said Aquilinius.

"My mission failed, Vibius," said Tobart, "I allowed the fool Fadding to rush our schedule. It seems the League noticed the increase in defective parts and sent agents to investigate. I should have kept the production reasonable but I did not. I accept full responsibility for the failure. I ask that you show consideration for the members of my team. The blame is fully mine and they followed my orders, as they should have."

Aquilinius stayed silent a long time as he examined the data on his 'pad.

"Your mission did fail," he said, "but that was not unexpected. I tell you this now as I did not before because it is now permitted that you know it. I and others have watched your advancement most carefully, Kenneth. More than once you had the opportunity to sacrifice another for your own mistakes, yet you did not."

"Because the errors were mine, Vibius. I made no excuse then nor do I now. I am as quick to claim my successes as well."

Now Aquilinius smiled. "You speak truly, and a truth all to rare in others who have attained your position. You also understate your accomplishment, and many suspect a false humility that conceals the poisoned blade meant for their back."

"Do you think that, Vibius?"

"No, my friend. I know you are entirely as you seem. Your overall mission might have failed, but the League will waste vast amounts of money and resources repairing the damage you did. Even the smallest victory is still a victory, Kenneth, and the patient man must learn to accept those as such."

"Am I to be punished?"

Now Aquilinius laughed.

"No, Citizen Tobart, your only punishment will be as it has before. The punishment for accomplishment is greater expectation."

Aquilinius slid a 'pad across his desk. After Tobart gave his retinals the display cleared and he began reading. A smile slowly crept across his face as he did.

"I trust, then," said Aquilinius, "that you have no objection to this assignment?"

***

"
Ructus foedus
," exclaimed Mooke as he read, "We fail and he assigns you
this
?!"

"They did not expect us to succeed," said Kenjai, "I suspected as much, Ken."

"And said as much," added Mooke, "More than a few times. You thought they wanted a reason to execute us."

"Peace," said Tobart, unable to help his smile, "Caesar needs no reason, my friends. We were given the assignment in order to do what damage we could. To cost the bastard League its gold and its lives. As Vibius Rutilius said, small success is still success. We must accept that. I am quite happy not to be awaiting... bad things."

"We as well," said Kenjai.

"Can we do this," asked Mooke.

"We can and we will," said Tobart, "Besides Fadding, we made friends within the Crown. They will be more dangerous to touch than engine plasma, for now. Later, though, is a different matter entirely. Caesar has given us much to work with. Most of all, time."

"This is true," said Kenjai, "but he has also given us a planet to eat without sauce!"

"Then we shall make our sauce," said Tobart, "This... This is much more to my liking! Tell me, Adri, do you still have your taste for hologames?"

"I do," said Mooke nervously. He didn't like others to know his fondness.

"Good," said Tobart, "At first we will wrap Caesar's surprise in a game. A splatgame, perhaps, or yet another Stratagem clone. We will develop it well outside the League, pristine, and let it migrate inward. Make it easy to copy, Adri, and simple to learn."

"I can do that," said Mooke, "but how will we deploy the... dirty... version?"

"Make it easy to copy," repeated Tobart, "but leave a deep, subtle hook. One with prongs only for us. A hidden key with an invisible hole that will open to our touch only. Then, when the game takes hold, we shall... upgrade it."

Mooke fell silent as he began thinking. Kenjai shared Tobart's smile.

"It will work," said Mooke, "I'll design its AI genetics to be receptive and... hungry. Hungry with a need only our fractal will fill!"

"It
will
work," said Tobart, "We will make it so!"

Hail Caesar!

 

* * * The End * * *

 

Chapter X: Afterword

 

Thanks for reading my book! I hope you enjoyed it. If so please consider giving me a review at the retailer where you purchased it.

If you're interested in more information concerning the League please check out my blog and Facebook pages. In addition to notes about writing, life and programming you will find data about the League, its Guilds and general comments on an average citizen's life there. These were kindly provided by Dr. Ferdinand Kincaid, a noted and well-published League archivist and member of the Artisan's Guild. 

In addition to writing books I'm also an open-source Java developer. My magnum opus in this world is Matt's MathTools, a Java application designed to help design and format mathematical things for written (or HTML-based) tests or worksheets. If you find that interesting please visit the site and grab the software. Several tutorials are provided and all of it is FREE! 

 

About the Author

 

James Matthew Cox, Jr. was born in Texarkana, Arkansas and he grew up on a farm seven miles outside of it. His mother made sure he learned to enjoy reading at an early age and his father made sure he learned to enjoy science fiction, also at an early age. Growing up, his heroes had names like Asimov, Bradbury, Clarke and (E.E.) Smith.

After graduating high school James completed a Bachelor's degree in Computer Science and a Master's degree in Mathematics. He then spent many years as a college math and computer instructor. His writing career began in junior high school and, after many years of practice, he finally decided to
do
something about it.

 

Blog:  
http://themoldyripegrape.wordpress.com/
 

 

Facebook Book Page:  
https://www.facebook.com/NewStarsTradeLeagueArchive
 

 

Facebook Personal:  
https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100005061257303
 

 

Twitter:  @moldyripegrape

 

Matt's MathTools:  
http://www.sourceforge.net/projects/mattsmathtools
 

 

Cover Artist:  
http://www.viladesign.net
 

Chapter Y: Preview

 

This is an excerpt from my next book, working title
Election Day
. Please enjoy it!

----------

Micah danced with little attention to his partner. He focused most of his concentration on the three men who had been with them since the restaurant. At the first bar he thought it no more than coincidence. Likewise the club across the street. But the same three men appeared at the next club, the bar after that, and now here. The current song ended and Manselli wove toward the back of the room.

"Looey-poo," she slurred, "Don't leave, sweetling."

Micah made his own way to the 'fresher. Then, safely ensconced in a stall, he activated his mini-garble and 'commed Ferrel. Fortunately when Ferrel answered he looked fully awake.

"Scan Reuben," said Micah quickly, "We're at NasTastique. Three targets."

"Acknowledge," said Ferrel instantly, "Twenty-five at most."

***

Seventeen of Ferrel's twenty-five minutes passed when he and Kidwell entered the club. Micah recognized them but no one else would. After one song they managed to dance themselves close enough to Micah. Micah cut his eyes toward the unwelcome threesome and, after quarter-trip around the floor, Kidwell acknowledged. Then she and Ferrel danced away.

"Hey doll," said Micah, after the next song, "I'm drying out. Seriously."

"Shay no more," bubbled Manselli, "I was thinking the thame shing. Same thing. Sobrella is just up the shtreeet."

"Polar, babe. Let's travel."

As Micah guided Manselli up the street he kept a cautious eye backward. Two of the men did a credible job shadowing them but the absence of the third man bothered Micah. Almost within sight of Sobrella Micah found his answer.

"Move, flopper. Now!" The third man stepped out of an alleyway and pointed something at Micah.

Micah took a bare instant to consider his options. He felt sure the man held a blaster but there wasn't quite enough light to be certain.

"Wha... What ish it?"

Micah knew he could take the man, ordinarily, but Manselli now leaned heavily on him.

"I said into the alley. Now!"

"Shh, baby. We'll be fine." Micah complied carefully. He felt Manselli tensing and that made her uncertain. The man also followed far enough behind to react before Micah could act.

The alleyway opened into a small cul-de-sac. Manselli mumbled fearfully but Micah shushed her, albeit not easily.

"M-micah..."

"Don't worry, hon. He's only going to rob us." Micah managed to loosen his grasp on her a little. "We'll give you our money and valuables, sirra. There's no need for anyone to get hurt."

"Wrong, flopper," said the man belligerently, now joined by the first two, "You dripping League trash need to stay the feces there! An' you need to learn how to shut yer ruddy mouth!"

Several things happened at once. Manselli screeched as Micah shoved her sideways and used the force to kick the blaster away. Shadows at the alley entrance told him Ferrel and Kidwell had arrived, so he threw a fast punch at the now-disarmed leader. Even though surprised, the man managed to block it and kick back. Micah blocked it, barely, and felt time slowing as he attacked.

Amazingly the man kept pace with Micah! He blocked when Micah struck and counterattacked just as quickly. Manselli had started screaming now and that lent fury to Micah's opponent. He attacked in a whirlwind Micah barely managed to avoid, and gave Micah an opening only by a small slip on uncertain footing.

Micah kicked hard and deadly now. He felt something break and the man grunted and stepped back, allowing Micah to turn his attention to a second man now attacking him. He heard some scuffle where Kidwell and Ferrel should be fighting, but not nearly enough.

Micah now faced a second whirlwind. The easy coordination between the two men bespoke military training, and elite training at that. Intelligence taught one-on-two and one-on-three combat but now Micah found his skills pressed to their limit. His first opponent, Leader, now stepped back into the fray. The second man shifted stance and they automatically attacked Micah in the most efficient way possible.

Seconds later Micah felt his confidence evaporating. He took several hits, nothing major, and gave better than he received but as yet he'd not managed a telling blow. Then the third man joined the first two. Micah tried to maneuver but they were simply too skilled. In the half-second it took Micah to trap and break one man's arm the other two had him in a power lock and nerve hold.

Five hard punches and a kick later it was over. Micah tried to fight but with no effect whatsoever. He felt his own arm swept into a painful lock, then a pair of hard kicks to his ribs, then a harsh voice whispered near his ear.

"This is a warning, flopper. You League prettyboys best watch your snoot! Next time won't be this easy.

The last thing Micah saw after they broke his arm was one of the men punching Manselli to silence. Then the pavement rose up to slap him.

***

When Micah roused he knew he hadn't been out long, he heard feet scuffling down the alley. As soon as he had the pain blocked he worked his way to his knees, then his feet. He walked unsteadily over to where Manselli lay. She was simply unconscious. He heard Ferrel and Kidwell shifting so he made his way to them.

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