Death World (Undying Mercenaries Series Book 5) (38 page)

“Okay,” I said, “but I still don’t see how secrets—”

“If you’d shut up for a second, I’ll tell you,” he said angrily, then he paused and started to laugh. “There you go again, proving my point for me. An irritating fellow like you simply
must
plan for the worst. People don’t revive a man like James McGill out of compassion. Every time you die, there’s a good chance someone will come to their senses and think: ‘Hell, he’s already dead—let’s just leave well enough alone.’”

“That’s great thinking, but…”

“Hold on. Let me finish. You’ve got to set things up so that they
need
to bring you back. That’s my method. You need an ace in the hole. Now think, what’s the one thing a dead, naked man might have that would compel another person to revive him?”

I looked at him blankly for a second.

He reached up and tapped me on the forehead. I went to grab his finger, but his hand quickly retreated.

“All you have at that point is whatever is in your head, McGill. Nothing else. I’m talking about information. Secrets those in power want to learn. Secrets are the only things we still possess after death. They go beyond the normal churn of recycling flesh and brain. My continued existence is based entirely on knowing things that other people don’t. I keep secrets—that’s all that matters.”

I squinted at him, thinking hard for a second before I shook my head.

“No,” I said. “You’re wrong about that. Actions matter, Claver. What a man does in this life and the next—that counts. Our actions define us, and they outlive us as well. To me, it’s what I do that matters.”

He chuckled bemusedly. “Think whatever you want, Mr. Philosopher. But just remember what I told you if you want to keep on existing.”

Standing up, I pocketed the key. Claver was instantly on guard.

“What are you doing?” he demanded.

“Returning a valuable item to our patron saint, Galina Turov.”

Claver would rather have carried the key, but I didn’t let him.

The confusion in the building allowed us to hit the elevators and ride them downward. The shaft went at a slant along the outer wall of the pyramid-shaped building. Outside, I could see for miles. It was a sunny day, even out over the Atlantic.

I had a hard time thinking as we rode toward the exit and Claver’s air car. What I really wanted to do was run. Sure, Claver had rigged the security and we’d erased Winslade’s recent memories—but there had to be some kind of clue, something that they could trace. It made me nervous to think we weren’t escaping but digging deeper instead.

Worse than all that was the feeling I’d been dragged into a dirty business. Claver was amazingly persuasive. He’d talked me into joining this adventure, and I was by no means certain I would live to see the sunset.

-51-

As it turned out, we marched right out of Central under a clear blue sky. The security system had been disabled on every floor down to the landing port level, where we’d left Claver’s vehicle. When we boarded the air car and sped away, the whole building was in pandemonium.

Once we were on our way, Claver dropped the simulated appearance of Winslade. I found that he was easier to talk to that way.

“Where are we going now?” I asked, looking out through the back canopy.

“Turov’s house. It’s a pretty nice place.”

“I bet. So—Winslade killed her, but she got a revive?”

“She did, but she did it unofficially. She had standing instructions to come out of a private facility if she was assassinated. Winslade probably had plans to eliminate her, or incriminate her somehow, but he never got the chance to spring them.”

Craning my neck around farther, I looked back at Central. The place was crawling with security, and people were evacuating the building in endless streams heading in every direction. What a mess we’d left behind. Of all the disasters I’d run out on, this one ranked at the top.

The big sirens were blaring, and all kinds of emergency people were flying in from every direction. They had no idea why their security systems had all shut down at once. With dead bodies on the floor and evacuation protocols in full swing, it was relatively easy to escape. Hell, lots of cars were zooming by, going faster than we were.

“They probably think it’s another attack,” I said, “like down at the spaceport.”

“You never know when terrorists will strike,” Claver agreed.

I looked at him sourly. “Most people don’t, but you often seem to. Tell me, what secrets do you have that would interest me? You think you’ve got something big enough to make me want to revive you?”

Claver grinned. It was a dirty grin, the kind an old man gives an underage girl in a bar. “I know you were here with me today in a front row seat at Winslade’s murder,” he said.

“All the more reason to perm you,” I pointed out.

“Right, but let’s say, for the sake of argument, that these facts were revealed a week or two after my death.”

“How the hell would that happen?”

Claver laughed. “I can see you haven’t been paying attention. I’m nothing if not a careful planner. You think about that, the next time you consider leaving me dead. There won’t be much time. You’d best get hopping and revive me, pronto.”

I tried not to think about his threats—but I did anyway. I couldn’t help it. Claver was disturbing to me. If there was ever a man that I’d never understood completely, it was him.

When we got to Turov’s place we landed on the roof. We were permitted to head down into the mansion where we met the Imperator in person.

Turov didn’t look happy to see me. “Did you have to bring him here?” she asked Claver.

“He’s been helpful up until this point.”

She eyed me with new respect. “All right then. He helped retrieve my property… Well done, you two. Central has been cleansed of a dangerous renegade today. You both have my gratitude.”

I looked at her in honest surprise. To me, the dangerous people weren’t dead; they were in the room with me right now.

“People died, sir,” I said, “and this joker wanted to perm Winslade. Was that your idea?”

Turov’s attitude shifted again. She looked at me like I was some kind of disease.

“Nothing of the sort has ever been suggested by my office,” she said quickly. “You need to get that through your head, McGill, if you’re going to be working for me.”

“Working for you? I’m under your command at the moment, if that’s what you mean, but I don’t—”

“That’s good enough, I suppose,” Turov said. “Let’s stick to that approach. I’m in your direct chain of command. Also, it’s important for you to keep in mind that there are only a few steps between my position and the very top of the military chain. Do not forget that.”

“If you say so, sir.”

“Imperator Turov,” Claver said, leaning forward a little. “I think you misunderstand me. McGill has been useful, but I didn’t say I wanted him to join our team.”

We both looked at him in surprise.

“Why the hell did you bring me along then, you snake?” I demanded.

He jerked a thumb in my direction without meeting my eye. He kept his gaze on Turov and her gun. “If I might suggest, Imperator, we have better options at this point.”

“What other options would you suggest, Claver?” I demanded. “Perming me too?”

“What I’m suggesting,” Claver said, talking directly to Turov, “is that an additional layer to our defenses might be helpful. A culprit, clearly depicted as guilty by altered security vids, would go a long way to creating the kind of closure that comforts investigating organizations. In this case, we happen to have a universally mistrusted individual at hand.”

Glaring at him for a second, I turned back to Turov to make my case. What I found was her standing there with a gun on me. Her eyes were dangerous.

I’m not a deep-thinking man, but I could tell that I’d been set up from the beginning. Claver had dragged me along on this string of murders for the sole purpose of pinning them on me by the time we reached the finish line. It made me angry not to have seen this coming.

“I get it now,” I said. “Claver’s been at this all day. Marching around killing folks—I’d figured you’d be dead yourself before we left here, Imperator, but
maybe
that’s not his plan. Maybe he wants to kill me instead. I hereby request permission to arrest him right now.”

Galina cocked her pretty head and looked at each of us thoughtfully. Then she held out her hand toward Claver.

“Give me my property.”

Claver looked at her hand like it was a tentacle attached to one of those squid-aliens.

“I beg your pardon?” he asked.

“I know Winslade had the Galactic key, and you’ve taken it from him,” she said. “Hand it over before I become angry.”

“I’m sorry Imperator, but I don’t have it. Install a lie-detector app on my tapper and test me. I’m not lying.”

Suddenly, Turov’s face became worried. “Who has it, then? Where is my property?”

Her voice was rising, becoming shrill. The good news was her gun had swung to cover Claver, instead of me.

I thought about making a move on her. I didn’t have a sidearm on me, but I could draw and throw a knife in one smooth motion if the need was there. As she was distracted and out of practice in close combat, there was a good chance I could peg her to the wall before she could draw a bead on me and put me down.

For about a second, I didn’t hear what Claver and Turov were saying to one another. I didn’t much care what it was, either. They were two snakes hissing in a basket. Finally, I made my decision.

“Imperator,” I said loudly.

She startled and shifted her eyes back to me. “What is it now, McGill?”

“I have your key. Right here.”

I pulled out the device and showed it to her.

Claver rolled his eyes

“Shut up, Claver,” Turov said. “Let me get this straight.
McGill
retrieved the key? And you allowed him to hold onto it?”

Claver shrugged. “I brought the key here. He’s just the bearer.”

She narrowed her eyes at both of us. “I get it Claver. You tried to play me for the fool at the end. Say what you will about McGill, he gets the job done, and he doesn’t hide things—at least, he’s not good at it. James, I almost always know what you’re thinking.”

“Thank you, sir—I think.”

She nodded to me and without another word shot Claver in the gut. He fell, gasping. He rolled onto his back, eyes bulging in shock.

Claver gasped and made sounds of vexation. “You idiot, McGill. Why didn’t you move when I had her distracted? What kind of a thug are you, anyway?”

Turov stalked forward like a huntress and stood over her victim. She shot him again, but it wasn’t a fatal wound. He was in shock, I could tell.

“You’re not dead yet,” she said to him. “But you must give me a reason not to finish the job and then perm you.”

Claver’s lips quivered, running with blood and spit.

“Throne World,” he said, coughing.

She shook her head. “Not good enough. I know about that planet. I know where it is. I know everything—”

She stopped as Claver’s trembling hand came to rest on her calf. It squeezed there, and he struggled to speak.

“You don’t know everything,” he said. “You just think you do, you bitch. You don’t know how to take it. How to use it…”

Turov’s eyes narrowed. She stared at him for a second longer then shot him in the face.

Watching him die, she put out her hand toward me. “Give me the key.”

“What are you going to do?” I asked.

“What should have been done long ago.”

Instead of doing as she asked, I put the key on her desk. When she reached for it, I grabbed both her wrists and held them firmly.

“Don’t tell me I shot the wrong man,” she said in a sudden rage.

“Look, Imperator,” I said, “I don’t understand everything that’s going on today, but I’m not in the mood to let you perm him.”

“I’m not going to do that, fool,” she said. “I need him.”

“You believe all that stuff he said about the squid home world, do you? Throne World, I think he called it.”

“That’s not why I need him,” she said. “I need a scapegoat. You should be happy I chose him instead of you for this purpose.”

“All right, but tell me one thing: why should I let you get away with all this? Why should I let you engineer murders all day long? Why not go to the authorities and—”

“Because you were running around assassinating people today, McGill. You and Claver—not me.”

I thought about that, and I sighed. I had no evidence that she was involved. Her enemies would suspect the truth, of course. They’d believe my story, but in the end, a noncom would have a hard time bringing down a slippery top officer. Especially when the noncom was from Legion Varus, and the officer was a part of Hegemony.

“I can see your wheels turning,” she said. “Now, let me go.”

Looking at Claver’s corpse, I felt reluctant to let go of Turov. She might do anything.

“What are you going to do with him, exactly?”

“I’ll take the last few hours of his memories then let him be revived. When the evidence of his guilt is shown at his trial, he’ll suspect something odd happened, but he won’t know the details.”

Shaking my head, I sighed and let go of her. “Claver may have met his match today.”

“Yes,” she said as she took the key, knelt, and went to work on Claver’s dead arm. “I believe he has.”

* * *

Nagata hauled me back to Central the very next day. I went with dread in my heart. I just knew that he’d figured out I was involved in the disasters Claver had initiated.

Still, I played it as straight as I could. Caught red-handed, most men would confess. That was always a mistake in my book. Maybe Nagata knew, and maybe he didn’t. But even if he
did
know, that didn’t mean he could prove it. Why give him my head on a silver platter?

I used the ground entrance. Sweating on the way up in the elevators, I tried to relax and enjoy the visit. It wasn’t every day a noncom was invited to talk with the brass at Central.

When I got off the elevator car I stepped lightly down the carpeted hallway, whistling as I walked. There were clean-up crews and technicians doing forensics. They were checking every optical filament that led to the pinhole cameras in the ceiling. In general, these people all looked pissed off. They eyed me with suspicion as I passed by. I told myself it was probably because I was the only man on the floor without the blue globe patch of Hegemony on my shoulder—not because they recognized me.

Reaching up to touch the door chime, my hand didn’t even make it to the pad before the door swept open. Inside was Nagata, sitting behind his desk.

“Veteran McGill,” he said slowly. “Come in and stand at ease.”

I did as I was invited. The door swept closed behind me and I clasped my hands behind my back.

Nagata was looking at his desk again, tapping at it. He had a pistol there, I saw, and something else…

My eyes fixated on the second item. It was familiar to me. It looked like a bar of soap with a button on it, but I knew what it was—a deadly weapon.

Forcing my gaze to shift to the view over Nagata’s shoulder, I put a slight smile back on my face. “Nice day out there, sir.”

“Indeed.”

“The funny thing is,” I said in a conversational tone, “this building is so tall, the weather is different up here than it is on the ground. I never get over that. Reminds me of the megaflora back on Death World.”

“Shut up, McGill.”

“Yes, sir.”

I waited while he tapped around on his screen for a moment longer. Finally, he managed to bring up what he was looking for. He spun the image so it would be correctly oriented from my point of view, and he beckoned me to come forward.