Broken Glass (Glass Complex Book 1) (34 page)

Denke walked off and Steg could see the major was having difficulties in controlling his temper. He motioned to Millie and they both retreated to the shelter of their cabin.

Anon
accelerated to its more typical cruising speed. Denke spent the transit time briefing Steg and Millie on the Special Forces and the planet they used as their base. Jochum, he explained, was a small, desolate ball, lacking either minerals or a fertile environment. It had been settled once in a misguided attempt to terraform the planet and there were rumors the survivors had resorted to cannibalism when their supplies ended.

“They died out,” Denke continued. “Probably from starvation, for nothing will grow on the planet. We have replicators running all the time, supplemented by imported fresh food. Nowadays, Jochum is a forgotten world, a wasteland no one wants. It’s been deleted from navigation charts and we actively discourage intruders. Anyone who persists—uninvited—is finally warned off by one of the three dreadnoughts we have on station. They’re our final defense line. I’m not sure the Fleet has more than ten fully functioning dreadnoughts in operation, so that should give you an idea of how important we view our base on Jochum. Needless to say, Jochum also has a portal. Why anyone established one there, we don’t know. We have a second planet available, Jochum II, if we need a fallback.”

“The more I hear, the more I consider this could be a one way trip,” commented Steg as he paced up and down the courier’s small conference room. Denke watched him intently and Millie was reminded of a bird of prey as the major waited for Steg to continue. “I—we—now know more than we should about your operation. I don’t suppose you’d want us anywhere else except engaged with the Special Forces?” He turned sharply, surprising Denke with his sudden, almost accusatory stare.

“de Coeur, you are in, and that’s all I can say. Likewise—with apologies—Millie,” admitted Denke, not without reluctance. “I expect you’ll be able to survive your enlistment. We’ll help you. We expect you to help us. We need, though, a token of your cooperation.” He ignored Steg’s reaction. “We’ve landing clearance, come on.”

The base was substantial and as far as Steg could determine in the short time between touching down and entering the heavily guarded buildings, very well armored. Security was visible everywhere inside the building housing the Special Forces operational headquarters. Denke led the way to a large conference room where they were to meet with the commanding officer.

“I think we’ve met before.” The bland statement contained an element of humor.

“Why—yes, Colonel Boston.” Steg suppressed his start of surprise. For Denke’s edification he continued. “We met on Althere when you—accepted—my application for a commission into the Fleet—for a fee. Although you were then a Fleet Commodore.”

“Hmmm. I don’t think I charged enough,” responded the colonel. “You gave me some concern, I admit. A pity. It had taken me over a year to get myself a suitable reputation; we had to suspend that fraud detection program. Now let me welcome both of you. de Coeur, I’ve heard a lot about you since you enlisted. I’ve heard of you, Milnaret of Fain and thank you for the assistance you rendered de Coeur. I’ve included two of my officers in our meeting, Major Justin, responsible for base security and Major Trench, who’s in charge of mapping the portal network. Now please be seated, all of you.”

The colonel paused as they followed his instructions.

“Let me be clear,” he continued. “We want you, de Coeur. I prefer not to conscript you—I don’t think that kind of force is helpful. I understand you value your freedom and we need your full cooperation. If we force you, I realize we’ll lose that cooperation or perhaps worse; you may destroy our systems. So we have alternatives. The first is we kill you, here and now. Although that would be our loss as well as yours, and I assume you’ve taken out insurance to cover that possibility?” He raised his eyebrows at Steg. Denke was poised, alert. Millie was pensive.

“Yes, Colonel. The dreadnoughts are now in decaying orbits and if my estimates are correct, they’ll impact the base in about twelve hours.”

“I expected as much. Justin, go and inform the dreadnoughts they have less than ten hours with nothing they can do to prevent their impact on Jochum. Tell them we’ll recover control, otherwise it’ll be a bloody disaster.”

He waited until the major returned. “The next alternative to consider is that we go our separate ways. That would disappoint me and leave you with a difficult although not impossible task of defeating the Lady Gaetja and her supporters. The viable alternative—the one I like—is to reach a mutually satisfactory agreement. I can offer you a roving commission, you can offer your services and we can repay in kind. I’ve been briefed by Denke, I’ve read reports of the Xesset capture and of your short stay on Hellfire. Believe me, we’ll welcome you to our service. In return, Captain de Coeur, you’ll be able to call on the Special Forces for the assistance you require.”

“That’s a very generous offer, Colonel.”

“Perhaps. Remember, any assistance requires approval by our Strategy Board. We report to General Baker. He reports directly to the Emperor. The chain of command is very short. If the Emperor says no, you have no appeal. However, I strongly suspect he’ll agree with reasonable requests for assistance. What’s your decision?”

Steg considered his options. He was not interested in destroying three dreadnoughts nor in sacrificing himself and his Fain companion. He understood the quandary faced by the colonel; the one he faced was equally difficult to resolve. He looked at Millie and she nodded her head.

“Colonel, I—we—accept your offer.”

“Very well, Captain. Welcome. Congratulations, both of you. Steg, we need you to make a preliminary study of the portals. Then we’ll move against your Homeworld enemies; I will so recommend. Denke’ll command that force. Is that acceptable?”

“Yes, sir. The dreadnoughts are back under control; there’s nothing preventing them from resuming normal orbits.”

“A delicate stand-off, de Coeur. One I do not wish to repeat, ever. Welcome aboard. Quarters have been assigned—we were optimistic, you see. When you’ve settled in, Majors Denke and Trench will introduce you to the portal network. We’ll also arrange preliminary discussions for your Homeworld expedition. Now, gentlemen, I have other duties to attend.”

******

Chapter 27

The boardroom filled slowly. This was an emergency
meeting called with very short notice by the Chairman. One or two directors shuffled in hesitantly, their worries obvious, their reluctance arising from concerns that somehow the emergency was directed at some failing or especially poor performance of theirs. Eventually the Director for Special Projects arrived. He was a walking wreck; his eyes were bloodshot, his hands shook and a repetitive and involuntary motor movement on the left side of his face showed his near panic state. Finally the Chairman arrived, riding his medical grav-chair. He was pushed into the boardroom by his Fain nurse. As she settled the Chairman at the head of the boardroom table, he was followed by a younger man, a stranger to most.

His identity was quickly circulated by soft whispers; it was Marius, of the House of Aluta. Non-directors could attend the board meetings only at the express invitation of the Chairman, a fact which added a
frisson
of excitement to the whispers. Marius did not take a seat; instead, he stood next to the Fain nurse, an amused smile on his face. The Director for Special Projects was ashen-faced, his fears near realization.

“Order,” exclaimed the board secretary. “This emergency meeting has been called pursuant to article three hundred and fifty-one of—”

“We don’t need all that nonsense,” barked the Chairman. “I called the meeting. We have a major emergency to deal with.” He glared at the Director for Special Project. “Harrison. What the hell is happening?”

The Director for Special Projects licked his lips and tried to find his voice. “Mr. Chairman,” he almost squeaked. He continued, his voice quavering. “We’ve had some setbacks—”

“Setbacks? Setbacks?” barked the Chairman. “Damn disasters, more like.” His expression had caused many an underling to quail. “I want a full accounting from you. Now.”

“Yessir. Er—as reported in the last meeting, we arranged for de Coeur to be court-martialed. It was successful and he was dismissed from the Fleet.”

“Yes, man, go on.” The Chairman argued for a moment with his Fain nurse, who reluctantly adjusted flows from his medication reservoirs. “Aaaah. Next?”

“The Fleet captain landed de Coeur on Hellfire.” A buzz filled the room. Hellfire was a prized asset of the House of Aluta.

“And did you manage to—eliminate—de Coeur?” The Chairman queried softly. No one observed Marius as he quietly stepped away from the Chairman’s side. He walked casually around the table, and as he moved, he extracted a pack from his pocket. It contained ampules which were small sealed containers and their contents glowed a soft golden color. He stopped behind the Director for Special Projects, his apparent attention on the external view across the city,. He examined and selected one of the ampules.

“No, sir. He—he must have had assistance. I don’t know how—”

“How he escaped your men, and wrecked our entire mining operation?”

“Yessir. I mean—we had—he—the only way he could’ve defeated our force on Hellfire was if he had outside assistance.”

“He not only escaped your force, he caused at least one billion credits of damage and also brought the planet to the attention of the Imperial xenos. All mining has ceased—we’ve lost one of our most profitable income flows because of your total stupidity. In addition, we lost a firefighter star ship. Correct?”

“Yes, sir. But we have almost complete control of Homeworld—”

“Pah! That’s nothing. Your project has failed. Do you not agree?”

Harrison felt perspiration beading down his back. He could not still the shake in his hands. “No, sir—not yet. I need more—”

“More nothing!” shouted the Chairman. “You’ve cost
the House of Aluta
—
me
—more credits than you can ever recover.” He signaled Marius, who had loaded the contents of the ampule into a small, high-pressure jet injector.

Marius touched the instrument to Harrison’s neck, just at the base of his skull, and pulled the trigger. Harrison convulsed as the golden fluid penetrated his spinal column under pressure and its effect flowed throughout his body. His scream was cut off as paralysis set in almost instantly. His body collapsed and death followed within seconds. Marius reset the injector trigger and pocketed the small device. He returned to the Chairman’s side.

“Gentlemen,” announced the Chairman with glacial calm. “Let that be a message, an example, to all of you.” He ignored the expressions of horror and alarm on the faces of his board members. “We’re in a life and death struggle. He—” he indicated the now lifeless body. “He cost me—billions of credits with his failed special project. I won’t have it. I cannot sanction such outright, devastating failure.” His voice rose, his face reddened and the Fain adjusted the medical flow again.

“Now, I wish to introduce my protégé—some of you may already have recognized him. Marius, meet the Board of the corporate arm of the House of Aluta.” He waved a hand at Marius who now was again standing beside him. “Marius will take over the role of Director for Special Projects—”

Marius held up his hand and the Chairman stilled, an inquiring expression on his face.

“No, sir,” corrected Marius, withdrawing the jet injector from his pocket. He held it against the Chairman’s neck. “No, the shareholders have requested your retirement. I shall be taking on the role of Chairman.” He pulled the trigger. “You see, the ampule held enough venom for two very fatal heart attacks.” The late Chairman did not hear him, did not reply, did not move.

Marius looked around at his stunned audience. “I think
that
concludes business for today, gentlemen. Please consider this very stressful meeting closed.”

******

Chapter 28

Steg listened carefully as Denke worked through
a more detailed portal briefing. His warnings were dire. The lack of knowledge of portal functions had created a mystique that was not entirely logical.

“Once you key in your destination, de Coeur, don’t hesitate. You must step through immediately. Show no panic, no hesitation and most important, keep your mind calm. The controls react somehow to mental pressures and we’ve proven it is possible to key in one destination and end up at an entirely different portal. In the early days, some of our portal explorers disappeared. They never arrived, anywhere. We don’t know what makes this happen. It doesn’t seem to be a flaw in the portal network, but we don’t know what causes these losses from misdirection.”

According to Denke, the first and only attempt to dismantle a portal had resulted in a massive explosion, killing a senior scientist and his support team as well as destroying the star ship where the portal was located. That loss had resulted in a total ban on further attempts to dismantle a portal or related equipment.

The small seven-pointed star-shaped structure beckoned Steg. The portal was set in an apparently solid wall of decorative marble, deep underground, accessible only through a series of artificial, hewn caverns. Steg was apprehensive at the thought of entering the narrow portal, and at the same time excited at the prospect of stepping across space. The structure vibrated softly, humming with coiled power, ready to hurl a traveler to destinations unknown.