The First One's Free (14 page)

The warrant disappeared, and the officer
turned back to face Luxhomme. “No. He’ll say, ‘Not our problem’
before having you put on the next liner to Jefivah.”

Best mimicked Luxhomme’s strange little
smile. “Oh, and the Marilynists are suing you and JunoCorp. I’ve
been authorized to serve you notice.”

******

“I know you’re angry, Best. And I
understand.”

Best faced Luxhomme with cold, flat eyes. He
could just shove the man out of the nearest airlock and call it an
escape attempt gone wrong. Either his conscience or the video
surveillance on board the liner kept him from doing it. He wasn’t
sure which. “You ruined my career, started a wave of rioting on
Jefivah, almost got all three of our colonies shut down, and the
crew of the
Etrusca Explorer
killed.”

“Oh, how do you know they died? They could
have run off with the Yedevans. It happens.”

“The investigator from the Navy thinks they
were eaten.”

Luxhomme’s eyebrows arched. “Well, that’s a
new one on me. I’ve heard of them eating Grays, but everyone
mistreats the Grays. The little buggers…”

“I don’t care about the Grays. I care about
how you’re going to fix the mess you made.”

“
I
made?”

Surveillance or no, Best bunched Luxhomme’s
shirt into his fists and shoved him against the bulkhead.
“
You
chartered a civilian vessel to take those weapons to
Tian so they could hand them off to the Navy. And
you
have
been damned hard to find since I left Marilyn. Even your own
company seems to have no clue where you are. How do you keep your
job?”

Luxhomme smiled. “I bring them money, which
seems to be a rare talent within our organization.”

“Walter Pope did not seem to be hurting for
currency and resources.”

“Pope is living off a bet Juno’s parent
company is making.”

“Which is?”

“I’m not permitted to discuss that.” The
strange little smile returned. “Unless you have a court order.”

Best released him. “Doesn’t matter. When we
get to Jefivah, you’ll most likely end up in prison. And once you
are convicted, I understand that the Metisians are going to try
you. Apparently, they think your shenanigans cost them one of their
colonies.” He started to walk away, then stopped and turned. “Say,
Luxhomme. Why did that alien woman beat the hell out of you? Did
you get her pregnant?”

As Luxhomme smoothed out his shirt, he said,
“Douglas, every middle school student knows that humans and aliens
cannot cross-breed without a little genetic trickery.”

“Well, Homeworld Security mentioned she was
technically your slave until the moment you two stepped on Metisian
soil.”

“I may have neglected to mention holding her
title of indenture until the last minute.”

Best tilted his head back slightly as he
regarded Luxhomme. “I see. Well, enjoy your time in Hell, Mr.
Luxhomme. I’ve got to go sedate myself for the jump.”

He reached the doorway to Luxhomme’s locked
quarters when Luxhomme called out. “I’ll tell them everything.”

Best stopped and turned, standing in the
doorway. “I’m listening.”

“I’ll testify as to what I did and why.”

“At your trial?”

“No.” The smile had disappeared. Luxhomme’s
eyes were wide now, his posture more slack. “I’ll go to Earth.”

Best thought he had kept himself impassive,
but the hint of that smile on Luxhomme’s face told him
otherwise.

“Yes,” said Luxhomme. “I’m willing to stand
before the Compact Security Council in Hong Kong.”

Best turned and left without saying another
word. How could he? Luxhomme had left him speechless.

18

Quantonesia sat in the middle of Hong Kong’s
Victoria Harbor, like a fragment of the city had broken off and
floated out to sea. A jumbled mass of skyscrapers covered the
artificial island from end to end, leaving Best to wonder how one
actually got onto it.

He had come to Earth separately from
Luxhomme, who left Jefivah in Compact Security’s custody. It let
him ride out the hypergate transit completely sedated with an
entire day to recover in his hotel room. Unfortunately, the Hong
Kong he found made him depressed.

Best had learned as a schoolboy that Earth
was an overpopulated, smoggy shell of its former self, barely able
to feed its population and racked with plagues on a regular basis.
Instead, he found a city that, while more crowded than any place
Best had ever seen, had clean streets and residents who roamed
freely without the aid of facemasks or breathers. Though hardly a
paradise, it shattered Best’s illusions that Jefivah might be
better off than Earth. He always said that Jefivah lagged behind
Earth, but never truly believed it. Now, here was a shining city in
a pristine harbor, standing in complete opposition to every
justification Best had for staying so long on his native world.

He took the ferry out to Quantonesia, nearly
awestruck as he stepped from the boat. The mass of glittering
towers could never exist on Jefivah. The capital had barely managed
to raise more than a dozen thirty-story buildings. Best quickly
lost count of how many towers existed within this
five-square-kilometer patch in the middle of Victoria Harbor.

The Compact Security Council operated out of
the fiftieth through fifty-fifth floors of the Compact Tower, home
to the General Assembly, General Secretary, and the Supreme Court
of the Compact. There had been some question as to why the Compact
would put its legislature, executive center, and highest court in a
single building. Aside from the obvious continuity of government
facilities, a general from the Marines had answered the question by
pointing out that Earth had not faced any real threats since the
war with Mars. And the Compact existed precisely to prevent human
worlds from going to war with each other.

The hearing had already begun by the time
Best arrived. Yet when he walked in, Luxhomme wasn’t sitting at a
table getting interrogated by the Council delegates seated on the
dais beneath the giant sunburst symbol of the Compact as expected.
No, Luxhomme paced around in front of the dais addressing not the
Security Council, but those in the gallery.

“No, ladies and gentlemen,” said Luxhomme,
“the fault does not lie with the government of Jefivah or with my
employer or even with me. It lies with the Defense Commission of
this Compact. They caused this terrible tragedy by failing to
remove those weapons from the worlds now known as Barataria,
Gallifrey, and Marilyn. They failed the colonists. They failed the
people of Jefivah. And tragically, they failed the crew of the
Etrusca Explorer
.”

The delegate from Mars, one of the “old
guard” permanent members of the Council, stood up and jabbed a
finger at Luxhomme. “Now just a minute. We generously told our
struggling worlds they could colonize the old military reserves for
free. All they had to do…”

“All they had to do,” said Luxhomme, whirling
on the Martian delegate, “was place into civilian hands weapons we
would not entrust to our own planetary forces. Instead of having
the military do its duty and remove these dangerous weapons from
new civilian worlds, they forced Jefivah to have to contract
elsewhere for their removal, lest the military and the Office of
Colonial Development shut down their colonies. Jefivah needs food.
It needs space to relieve the factional problems that have plagued
it since its founding.”

“And JunoCorp needs the backing of a core
world to compete with the major genetic customization firms,” said
the Martian delegate, his arm shaking more from 1G gravity than
rage, though Best was hard-pressed to tell the difference. “Tell it
true, Mr. Luxhomme. This is about money.”

“Trade,” said Luxhomme, “is how we are able
to move resources, Mr. Roosa. Maybe money does not allegedly exist
on Mars, but it is how the majority of Compact members get anything
accomplished. Tell me, Mr. Roosa, do you not chair the General
Assembly’s Defense Appropriations Committee?”

“Yes,” said Roosa.

Best had to smile at the turn of events.
Luxhomme had just successfully made Delegate Roosa the scapegoat
for seven missing weapons of mass destruction and for the deaths of
the
Etrusca Explorer
crew. He felt a hand on his shoulder.
Turning, Best found First Minister Myra Gillorn sitting behind
him.

“I didn’t think you could salvage this
situation,” she whispered as Luxhomme began brow-beating the
Martian delegate. “If you haven’t taken that teaching position, I’d
like to have you come back.”

“I was an elected delegate, Myrna,” said
Best. “Don’t you think we should hold an election?”

“The First Minister’s chief of staff is not
elected.” She smiled. “Nor do they have to endure approval hearings
in the House of Delegates.”

They both turned their attention back to the
dais as a new voice chimed in on the exchange between Luxhomme and
Roosa.

“I think,” said Xiao Li, the delegate from
Tian, “we can agree there were procedural failures in this tragedy.
The military does, indeed, have the best protocols for handling
such weapons and did not provide the personnel and equipment to do
so. Dasarius Interstellar is most likely not equipped to transport
such cargo, and using a projection drive ship likely increased the
odds that the
Etrusca Explorer
would get lost with those
weapons.”

Luxhomme appeared ready to take back control
of the hearing once more when Xiao continued. “I think we can all
take comfort that the ship was discovered outside Compact space
with no trace of human intervention. While I, for one, will mourn
the loss of the crew, the likelihood that those weapons will be
used against human worlds is minimal. Madame Chairperson, I move
that we shift the focus of our investigation to one of prevention.
Let’s allow the Jefivans to grow their new colonies and take their
rightful place among the other founding worlds of this
Compact.”

To Best’s surprise, Malakar, the Earth
delegate, stood up and seconded the motion.

“All those in favor of the motion put forth
by the distinguished gentleman from Tian,” said the Chairwoman,
“say aye.”

Most of the Council’s twenty delegates said
“aye.”

“Opposed?”

Only Roosa said “Nay.” The remaining
delegates kept silent.

“Motion carries,” said the Chairwoman.
“Delegate Roosa, your committee is hereby tasked with looking into
preventive measures for the transport of non-conventional weaponry
from military reserves.” She banged the gavel, which surprised
Best. Hardly any legislatures used gavels anymore. Some did not
even meet in person. “Mr. Luxhomme, thank you for bringing this to
our attention. Next, we will discuss a petition by the Assembly
Delegate from Metis concerning their colony on Gilead…”

As Best filed out with the other Jefivan
presence, the First Minister punched him lightly in the arm.
“Welcome back, Doug.”

*****

Laral Jorl paced the deck watching the
blackness of space for…

Well, he expected seven large colony
transports, all smooth saucer-like craft, to emerge from projected
wormholes. So far, that had not happened. He gazed at the back of
his hand, where the live tattoo mocked him with his homeworld’s
time. The transports should have arrived over two hours
earlier.

“My Lord,” called out one of the technicians,
“wormhole opening thirty degrees starboard, eighteen degrees
nadir.”

Naturally, the wormhole would be blurred on
the display. Almost no primate species Laral knew of could look
directly into a wormhole without becoming ill. The Gelt, he
lamented, were particularly susceptible to that phenomenon. Even
the Warrior Caste had to trust in technology when it was there and
look away or shut their eyes like a cub when it wasn’t. The
wormhole (or rather, the blurred mask of it) disappeared, leaving
behind…

A yacht? The craft that appeared had markings
of the Realm but was no larger than an orbital transport.
Beanstalks, which moved people and cargo between orbit and the
ground on some worlds, had bigger lift compartments.

“Where are the colonists?” asked Laral.

“Message coming through,” said the
technician. “It is Lady Shorees from Council.”

The name made Laral smile. Shorees had once
commanded this very vessel for him. A cone of light appeared at the
center of the command deck, Shorees’s slender figure materializing
within. “General.”

Laral crossed his arms across his chest and
bowed. “My Lady, it is…”

“Council summons you to return to Hanar,”
Shorees continued, not even acknowledging his greeting. The
hologram flickered. “An heir of the Lattus family has contested
your challenge against Lattus Kai. You must answer.”

“But we are about to…”

“Your transports are being held at Essenar
until this dispute is resolved,” Shorees continued. “The transport
now docking with your vessel is automated. You have one hour to
board before it undocks and returns to Hanar.” Shorees’s arm
disappeared as she reached for something out of view of her
recorder. When it reappeared, it held a scepter every Gelt knew
from childhood. “The Sovereign Himself has ordered this. If the
transport returns empty or fails to return at all, you will forfeit
possession of Essenar, of Hanar, and, quite possibly, your original
holdings.” The hologram disappeared.

Blood thudded in Laral’s ears. His temples
pounded. “Evart!”

The short, pudgy man whose gray skin showed
the purple lines typical of heavy drinkers appeared at his side.
“My Lord?”

“I have been summoned by Council. Leave
Master Visni in command of the fleet. You go to the surface and
take command of our… troops.”

“Shall I setup in the northern city?”