The End of All Things (30 page)

I noticed that much,
Powell said, and I smiled despite myself. Powell motioned back, to the southeast
. I came down that direction and started heading this way and began hearing you a couple of klicks back. I waited until I was sure it was you.

You could have tightbeamed me instead of tackling me.

It seemed safer this way. If you were on the ground there was less chance of you grabbing your Empee and spraying the brush out of surprise.

Point. Why are you headed this way, though? The secondary extraction point is not this way.

No. But the assholes who shot us down are.

I smiled again
. It does not at all surprise me to hear you say that.

Of course it doesn’t. Just as I’m not surprised to find you on the way there.

No, I suppose not.

Shall we go?

Yes,
I said. We both stood up.

Just to be clear, I plan to kill the shit out of every single one of them we find,
Powell said.

We may want one or two for questioning,
I said.

Your call. You better point out which ones you want ahead of time.

I will. Also, Ilse?

Yes, Lieutenant?

What was your job back on Earth? I’ve always been curious.

I taught eighth-grade math in Tallahassee.

Huh,
I said.
That’s not what I expected.

Are you kidding?
Powell said back.
You try teaching algebra to a bunch of little shitheads for thirty-eight years straight. The way I figure it I’ve got about another decade before my rage from that gets entirely burned up.

Whatever works. Ready?

Yes I am,
Powell said.
I’ve got some anger to work out. And not just from teaching
.

*   *   *

Well, this is definitely not good,
Powell said to me.

The two of us, still in full camo, lay two hundred meters out from a large concrete slab, itself on the edge of a disused reservoir. On the slab were two missile launchers, an electromagnetic mass driver, and two beam weapons. One of the launchers was missing two of its missiles, and next to it two specialists had hauled over new weapons to load onto it. The specialists were not human.

Fucking Rraey,
Powell said, naming the species.
What are they doing here?

Shooting down our shuttles,
I said.

But why? How did they even get onto this planet?

I think they were invited.

By the prime minister? I’m going to shoot him twice now.

We still need to bring him in alive,
I said.

I didn’t say I was going to kill him,
Powell replied.
Just that I was going to shoot him twice.

Let’s focus on what we’re doing here first.

All right,
Powell said.
How do you want to do this?

I looked again at the slab. Each of the weapon platforms had its own set of technicians and operators, which amounted to four Rraey each. Each of the platforms also had its own power source, the largest being attached to the mass driver, which had to pull some serious energy into its electromagnets. The platforms were spaced haphazardly, as if they were hastily installed and meant to be equally hastily removed. And indeed toward the back of the platform were a set of trucks large enough to pack up the platforms and drive them away. There was a fifth truck as well, smaller than the rest, out of the top of which sprouted various communications receivers. Inside of it were several Rraey, visible through windows. Command and communications. Finally, two Rraey with rifles walked the perimeter of the slab. Security, such as it was.

I see about twenty-four Rraey,
I said, to Powell.

I check your math,
she said.

I want at least a couple alive.

Fine. Anyone in particular?

Let’s keep the C&C staff breathing for now.

You’re the boss.

You take the security and the trucks, and knock out the C&C power.

Some of them will still have handhelds.

Don’t give them time to use them.

You said you wanted them unharmed.

I said I wanted them
breathing
.

Oh, okay,
Powell said
. That makes things easier.

I’ll take the weapons crews.

That’s a lot.

I have a plan.

Yeah? What is it?

Watch this,
I said, set my Empee for a particle beam, and shot into one of the missiles the weapons crew was trying to install into the launcher. I aimed not for the payload, but the fuel.

It went up like holiday fireworks, taking the launcher, its missiles, its crew, and the crews of the adjoining platforms with it. Everything on the slab crumpled, including any Rraey unfortunate enough to be outside when the missile platform went up. It was a good thing we still had our masks on; they protected our ears from the blast.

“I thought you might do that,” Powell said out loud, breaking cover and standing up.

“You’re not worried about them seeing you?” I asked.

“Lieutenant, at this point I
want
them to see me coming,” she said, and stalked off, Empee up.

I smiled, stayed crouched, and waited for any of the Rraey on the slab to start moving again. From time to time one would start to move away. I stopped them from continuing to do so.

There was a soft thudding sound; Powell had taken out the command truck’s power source. I saw her stalk across the slab, toward the truck, shooting truck drivers as she went. Behind her, one of the Rraey truck drivers had grabbed a weapon and was maneuvering around its truck to get a shot. I dealt with it.

You missed one,
I sent to her.

I knew he was there,
she sent back.
I knew you were there too
.

A Rraey appeared out the door of the command truck’s cabin. Powell shot it in the leg; it went down squawking.

Keep a couple alive,
I said.

That depends on them,
Powell sent back. She reached the truck, grabbed the squawking Rraey, and pushed it in front of her as she went through the cabin door.

Things were quiet, at least from my point of view, for a couple of minutes afterward.

I left a couple alive,
Powell said, after those couple of minutes had passed.
But you might want to hurry
.

I hurried down.

The inside of the command truck was a mess. There were three dead Rraey in it, including the one Powell had shot in the leg. Two more Rraey were at the back of the cabin, keening. From what little I knew of Rraey physiology, they were both sporting broken limbs. Powell had stripped them of their personal electronics; the rest of the cabin’s electronics were down. Light in the cabin consisted of a couple of small emergency lights.

“Any trouble?” I asked Powell as she entered.

“No,” she said. “They’re not very good at close quarters.”

“Well, that’s something,” I said.

Powell nodded and pointed to one of the survivors. “I think that’s the one in charge,” she said. “At least that’s the one everyone tried to keep me from getting at.”

I went over to the Rraey, who was looking up at me. I accessed my BrainPal, which had translation modules for the couple hundred species we humans had encountered the most often; the Rraey were in there. Their language contained sounds that we can’t make, but the BrainPal would pick words that suited our mouths and throats. I’d tell the BrainPal what I wanted to say and it would offer me a suitable translation.

“Are you in charge here?” I asked the Rraey Powell had pointed out to me.

“I will not answer your questions,” the Rraey said to me, in its language, which my BrainPal translated for me.

“I could break something else,” Powell said. She was listening in.

“Torture isn’t useful to get information,” I said.

“I didn’t say anything about getting information.”

I looked back to her. “Give me a minute here, please,” I said. Powell snorted.

I turned back to the Rraey. “You are hurt,” I said, in its language. “Let us help you get better.”

“We’re hurt because of that animal over there,” the Rraey said, jerking its head to Powell.

“You are hurt because you attacked us,” I said. “You cannot attack us and expect nothing to happen in return.”

The creature said nothing to this.

“You are here on a planet you should not be,” I said. “Helping humans, which you should not do. You need to tell me why.”

“I will not.”

“We can help you. We will help you and your soldier here,” I said, pointing to the other injured Rraey. “You will not survive if you do not get help.”

“I will gladly die.”

“But will you ask this soldier to die too?” I said. “Have you asked this soldier what it wants?”

“You’re doing that thing where you’re trying to be nice to someone you were just trying to kill,” Powell said. “It doesn’t work, because they remember you were trying to kill them five minutes ago.”

“Ilse.”

“I’m just pointing this out. Someone needs to say it.”

I ignored her and turned back to the Rraey. “I am Lieutenant Heather Lee of the Colonial Defense Forces,” I said. “I promise you that from this point forward you will not be harmed. It’s a promise whether you help me or not. But if you help me, then I may say to my superiors that you have been useful. And they will treat you better.”

“We know how you treat your prisoners,” the Rraey said.

“And we know how you treat yours,” I said. “We can change things now.”

“Kill me and get it over with,” the Rraey said.

“I don’t want to die,” said the other Rraey.

The first Rraey squawked something at his underling, which my BrainPal translated as “[Silence/You are making a shameful utterance].”

“You won’t,” I said, turning my attention to it. “Help me, soldier. Help me and you will live. I promise you.”

“I am Specialist Ketrin Se Lau,” it said. It motioned with its head to the other Rraey. “This is Commander Frui Ko Tvann. We are here on behalf of Equilibrium. We are here because the government of Khartoum has struck a deal with us.”

“What’s the deal?”

“Protection,” it said. “Once the Colonial Union falls, Equilibrium will protect it from species who will try to raid or take over.”

“In exchange for what?”

Commander Tvann squawked again and tried to strike Lau. Powell crossed the distance between the two and held her Empee on Tvann.

“In exchange for what?” I repeated.

“You won’t kill us,” Lau asked. “You promise.”

“Yes, I promise. Neither of you.”

“You won’t torture us.”

“We won’t. We’re going to help you. I promise, Specialist Lau.”

“Protection in exchange for laying a trap,” Lau said. “For luring you here.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Powell said. “The Colonial Union only sent one ship. Even if the
Tubingen
is destroyed we’ll just send more. A lot more. This uprising will fail and then we’ll go after the Rraey for helping them.”

“Unless there’s more to it,” I said, and turned back to Lau. “What else is there?”

“I don’t know,” Lau said. “I’m a specialist. They only told me what I had to know for my part.”

I turned to Tvann. “And I don’t expect you want to fill me in.” Tvann turned its head from me.

“So we have a dead end here,” Powell said.

“No,” I said, and then cut off as the
Tubingen
opened a feed, searching for us. It had been attacked and damaged but had survived and with the help of another ship had destroyed the two ships attacking it. It was now asking for status reports.

“Well, at least we’re not entirely screwed,” Powell said.

“Call it in,” I said to her. “Let them know we need immediate medical evac for two Rraey prisoners of war. Tell them I’ve promised they won’t be further harmed.”

“That’s going to go over well.”

“Just do it.”

“Anything else?”

“Tell them to send another shuttle for the two of us. We have another mission to finish.”

*   *   *

On the way back, our shuttle was diverted from the
Tubingen
to the other Colonial Union ship.

“I haven’t heard of the
Chandler
before,” Powell said.

“It’s a State Department ship, not a CDF ship,” I said.

“A State Department ship with a fully operational offensive weapons system.”

“Times have changed,” I said.

“These constraints are hurting my arms,” said Masahiko Okada, the now-former prime minister of Khartoum. It’s possible that he might still be considered the prime minister by some, but from a practical matter his days in charge of things were now over. “I’m very uncomfortable.”

“And several of my friends are dead,” Powell said, to Okada. “So maybe you should think you’re getting the better end of the deal and shut up.”

Okada turned to me. “If you don’t think people will know about how you’re treating me—”

“Let me throw him out,” Powell said, to me.

Okada turned back to Powell. “What?”

“Let me throw him out,” Powell repeated to me. “This shitbucket is the reason Lambert and Salcido are dead. Not to mention everyone else in the platoon.”

“Not everyone else is dead,” I reminded her. “Gould and DeConnick survived, too.”

“Gould and DeConnick are both in critical condition,” Powell said. “They
might
survive. And if they don’t that leaves just you and me. Out of an entire fucking platoon.” She jabbed a finger at Okada. “I think that rates him getting a space walk without a suit.”