Exodus: Empires at War: Book 2 (12 page)

*     *     *

Cornelius Walborski
took a puff from the pipe and allowed the sweet smoke to fill his lungs.  He
felt the buzz of the narcotic herb flow through his body in a rush of
pleasure.  Holding out the pipe to his wife, the farmer held in the smoke.

"Thanks,
honey," said Katlyn, taking the pipe and bringing it to her mouth.  She
pulled in the smoke, then put the pipe on the table.

"This is really
good," she said, sighing her pleasure.

"The market had a
really good shipment," said Cornelius.  "And our homegrown crop will
be ready in a few months."

The cannabis was a mild
drug, even though it had been improved over generations.  Most people preferred
mild and good, and mild drugs were legal in the Empire.  Nanotech had eliminated
the truly awful effects of most intoxicants.  The misery of addiction still
existed, especially with the harder drugs that were still illegal, and
lucrative.

"I felt the baby
kick," said Katlyn, her hand on her stomach and a smile on her face.

Cornelius put his hand
on her stomach as he held her close.  He felt the baby move under his palm.

"Hope the little
guy isn't getting too high," he said with a drug induced giggle.

"Not a hope in
hell," said the soon to be mom.  "I got a booster of placental
nanites the other day.  Nothing but nutrients and oxygen will get through those
things."

She looked at him for a
moment and then looked away, her eyes distant.

"What's wrong,
hon?" he asked, putting his hands on her arms and turning her toward him.

"Just that there's
been a lot of talk on the net," said Katlyn, tears in her eyes.

Cornelius knew about
the rumors that were going back and forth across the planetary news,
communications and database service known as the net.  All of the citizens were
able to access it through their implants.  Or, being a free society, they could
isolate themselves from it as they wished.  According to the net there was a
reason that all of the troops were landing recently.  The government wouldn't
give them a lot of information about what was going on, but rumors were that it
wasn't good.  There had to be something out here that was scaring the
government into redeploying troops.  Especially to a nowhere frontier planet
with no worth to anyone but the few hundred thousand people who called it home.

"I don't know
what's going on, hon," he said, putting his arms around her.  "I just
know that we're getting ready for something.  The militia has been assigned to
support the regulars.  And the regulars that I've seen are bad mothers.  They're
fresh from a combat assignment, and they're wolves.  I feel that if anything
happens we will be in as good a hands as possible.  You hear me?"

His wife looked into
his eyes as he wiped the tears from them.  She nodded her head and gave him a
slight smile.

"Good," he
said, smiling.  "Let's get ready for bed."

Just as the words left
his mouth the dogs started barking.  He heard some of the livestock making
noise.  Noise that did not sound good.

"Damned predator
got into the fields," he said, getting up from the couch.  He reached for
a bottle on the table and pulled out a nanocapsule, popping it into his mouth. 
Shaking his head he felt the intoxication fleeing from his brain as the sober
pill took effect and the nanites entered his system.

"Be careful,"
said Katlyn, concern in her eyes.

He grabbed the rifle by
the door and turned back to her as the noise outside rose in volume.

"I will," he
said, smiling.  "The dogs will be with me out there, watching my
back."

Cornelius opened the
door to the sounds of his dog pack barking and growling at something that
hissed. 
They're a good bunch
, he thought, stepping out into the
illuminated night.  He had six of the beasts on the farm.  All genetically
enhanced farm dogs that were much faster and smarter than anything on this
planet.  Just not as big.

As he ran out to the
closest field, where all of the noise was originating, he saw that two of the
forty kilo dogs were facing down a quadruped that must have massed over four
hundred kilos.  The other four dogs were spread out, completing a circle around
the beast.  One of the bitch dogs limped a bit, and he could see the glistening
of blood on her flanks under the floods.  He felt a stir of pride as he saw
that the native had some liquid glistening on its hide as well.  The dogs had
drawn blood, and were keeping the animal from hurting any of the cattle that it
had come after.

Cornelius knew how to
handle a weapon.  He had learned hunting in the backwoods of his home world,
leading the local Lord’s friends on expeditions.  And had learned more after
coming to the frontier world.  He made sure the rifle was set as he wanted and
put the stock to his shoulder.  A squeeze of the trigger and the rifle bucked
into his shoulder, sending a six millimeter round at six thousand meters per
second into the creature.  It fell like a poled steer as the round penetrated
its skull and destroyed its brain.

The dogs ran up to it
and growled, one taking a bite out of the creature's leg and spitting out the
flesh, making sure that it was dead.  The dogs were too smart to eat the meat,
knowing that it wasn't nourishing for them.

Have to pull it out of
here with the tractor
,
thought Walborski, looking at the carcass.  Otherwise scavengers would come for
it, some as big or bigger than the beast.  He patted the heads of a couple of
the dogs as they ran up to him, tails wagging. 
Better than any electronics
or defense robots
, he thought of the dogs, who actually showed affection
toward their master. 
But you're a fucking buzz kill
, he thought as he
looked at the dead critter.  Shaking his head he started off for the vehicle
shed to get the tractor and take care of the mess he hadn't asked for.

*     *     *

Lieutenant SG The
Prince Sean Ogden Lee Romanov sighted in on the target as he readied the
projectile.  He was aware of his surroundings, where he stood in relation to
the target.  All distractions were filtered out as he focused.  A movement of
his hands and the projectile was on its way.

The basketball swished
through the net as the Prince shot a perfect three pointer.  He trotted over a
bit and picked up the round ball as it bounced off of the hardwood floor.

Be nice if there was
someone to play with
,
he thought, looking around the wide rec deck.  There were games going on six of
the twelve courts on the deck, and a couple of singles practicing shooting on
another one.  Two of the courts were configured for volleyball.  One had a
pickup game while the other had some hardcore players practicing setting and
spiking.  Some of the racquetball courts were also busy, and a couple of dozen
crewmen were running the four hundred meter oblong track that overlooked the
playing courts.

The Prince looked over
at his bodyguards.  The two Marines in light armor were conspicuous among the
crewmen and women in their workout gear.  One Marine stood near the wall by the
basket, his eyes constantly roaming the floor.  The other stood in the area
between courts, her vision scanning the running track.

For the sake of God,
I'm on board an Imperial warship
, thought the Prince.  No one wanted to get
near him with his bodyguards intimidating all and sundry.  And he wasn't
allowed off ship, at least until the Captain calmed down and started treating
him like an officer of the Fleet again.

The Prince tossed the
ball into a nearby bin and walked from the court, the Marines hustling to get
one of them ahead of him while the other trailed behind.  He wished he could
just order them away, but they were under orders from both the Lt. Colonel in
command of the battleship's Marine battalion and the Captain of the ship.  They
would die before they left his side, and he couldn't wish that on anyone for
doing their duty.

"I'm going back to
my cabin, people," he said to the guards as he headed through the door out
of the rec deck and into a corridor.  The guards nodded, one of them
subvocalizing into a com link.  Sean walked down the corridor until he came to
a lift.  One of the guards opened the door and made sure that the lift was
empty.  Clearing the lift, the Marine motioned the Prince on board.  The second
Marine followed and the lift took off, going up three decks and forward a
hundred and fifty meters.  The door opened and the Prince headed down the
corridor, Marines in tow.  As he approached his cabin one of the Marines ran
ahead and through the door while the second Marine put a restraining hand on
the Prince.  First Marine came out of the cabin and motioned all clear.  The Prince
entered his cabin and the two guards flanked the door and kept watch outside.

The Prince looked around
the small living room that he normally shared with another Lieutenant SG.  Said
Lieutenant had been moved for the moment, leaving the Prince alone.  The living
room was nothing spectacular to look at with twenty five square meters of area
containing a couple of couches, a coffee table, and some shelving covered with mementos
and minor works of art.  One of the two doors led to his personal twenty square
meters of bedroom and his private bath.

The Prince threw
himself into a comfortable chair that sat in front of the common desk.  Turning
on a flat comp, the Prince keyed in an address and waited for a moment while
the holo cameras registered his presence.  As the flat comp started blinking
the Prince looked into the cameras.

"Hello father,
mother," he said, forcing a smile onto his face.  "I'm sure you have
heard the news by now.  I assure you that I am well, or as well as I can be
when I am what amounts to under arrest on the ship on which I serve.  I wanted
to be treated like any other officer of the Fleet.  Now I see that that want is
impossible.  I am treated like the member of the Imperial Family that I am.  A
fragile gem of dubious value to be protected, instead of the gallant officer
putting his life on the line for the protection of the Empire."

Sean put his face in
his hands for a moment, massaging his temples as he thought of what he would
say next.

"I want to resign
from the service," he said to the camera.  "I want you, father, to
have my name stricken from the lists of active officers.  I know this will come
as a disappointment to you.  I know how our family holds the military service
to the Empire as important.  That we show the people we are also willing to
serve on the front lines.  But I feel that it is a sham.  I am not allowed to
protect and serve.  That is an illusion.  Play acting in some scripted
theatrical production for mass consumption.  And I am tired of playing this
part.  So please, father.  Call me home.  I am ready to take on whatever
political duties you deem fit for me.  Or no duties at all if I am not deemed
fit."

Sean looked around the
living area for a moment, his eyes locking on the picture of the Emperor and
Empress that was one of many on the ship.  He tightened his jaw as he looked
back at the camera.

"I love you
father.  I love you mother.  I hope that you will welcome me back to the
capital, and to our home.  Sean out."

The Prince hit the
transmit key before he could change his mind.  He knew that his code and the
status of his recipients would insure that the message went through
uncensored.  As a member of the Imperial Family his security clearance was as
high as the military gave out.  And the Emperor had no security clearance.  He
was above that, and privy to any information that he wanted to view.

The Prince got up from
the desk and the comp went off.  He could feel the stickiness of the sweat he
had worked up in the gym that had dried in the coolness of the cabin.  He felt
like a shower, followed by a nap.  And then he would demand an audience with
the Captain, using his social rank if necessary.  As long as he was on this
ship he would do his duty, and work his duty station.

*     *     *

“My God,” said Grand
Fleet Admiral Duke Taelis Mgonda while he listened to the message that had come
in on hyperwave.  “The entire family.”

“Yes sir,” said his
adjutant, Captain Henninman, in a hushed voice.  “The whole damned family.  We
don’t have a seated Emperor.  And then the Prime Minister on the same day.”

“That makes one of my
junior officers the supreme ruler of the Empire,” said the Admiral, shaking his
head.  “And our ultimate boss.  Which, of course, he doesn’t know yet.”

“What are we going to
do about that Admiral?” asked the adjutant, his eyes assuming the faraway look
of linking to the base’s net.

“Do we know where the
boy is right now?”

“Last reported position
of the
Duke Roger Sergiov II
is Massadara Logistical Base,” said the
adjutant, reading the information from his link.  “Information is from a report
which is three days old, brought in yesterday by the biweekly courier.  She was
scheduled to leave the system by the end of the week for a border patrol with
her squadron.”

“So three days from
now,” said the Admiral, nodding.  “We can get a courier there in two.  Send a
courier out now.  Then send the next three available couriers out on a border
sweep looking for that ship.  Just in case she left early.  Put orders on all
the couriers for the Prince, I mean Emperor, to transfer to the courier for
transport to this base.  Then we can send him up the pipeline to the capital
and get him installed.”