Target: Earth (Extinction Wars Book 5) Page 7

  -17-

  If I hadn’t interrogated Sub-commander Tal Feng a month and a half ago, this might have come as a rude surprise. I still didn’t like it, but at least I understood what was happening.

  Diana sat in her Queen Victoria-style throne, fluffing out her dress. The security detail rearranged the curule chairs. Spencer sat on her right, with Secretary Nancy Kress beside him. General Briggs sat on Diana’s left, with another officer I didn’t know beside him. The marines in their battle-armor lined up behind Diana against the wall. The red-suited security detail took up station among the map tables.

  I stood to the side of Briggs, with a battle-suited marine lieutenant beside me. My wrists were still shackled behind my back. Fortunately, I often stretched before working out, so my shoulders weren’t as strained or as stiff as they could have been. I waited silently, wondering how this would go.

  “Creed,” Diana said once, leaning toward me. “I’m…I’m sorry. I wish you’d come to us as the Galactic Effectuator. I wish the Curator had given you leave to really help us against these Plutonians. It isn’t right that Jennifer is trying to hurt you by destroying us.”

  “You should reconsider,” I said. “My idea is a good one. It will work.”

  “Are you the Galactic Effectuator?” she asked, sharply.

  “No,” I said.

  Diana frowned, straightened and finally asked Spencer what was taking the ambassador so long.

  Fifteen minutes later, a marine opened the double doors and said in a loud voice, “Ambassador Gin Loris of the Lokhar Empire, the personal representative of the mighty Emperor Daniel Lex Rex of Purple Tamika and the Count of Tepis III.”

  Several large Lokhars in ceremonial combat gear clattered as they stomped into the chamber. They wore bronze plate-armor and carried ancient spears and shields. They were huge specimens, bulging with muscles under their tawny tiger fur.

  A slender shifty-looking Lokhar entered next. He wore a flowing purple gown, a complex purple hat and square-shaped purple-tinted sunglasses. He reminded me of pictures I’d seen as a kid, showing some of the hippies that had gone to Woodstock.

  The Ambassador entered last, Count Gin Loris of Purple Tamika. He was a fat sucker, waddling into the chamber wearing a vast tent of a purple gown. The tiger wore costly rings that glittered on his furry fingers and he had a puffy face, with fat enfolding his eyes and giving him the appearance of squinting all the time.

  The ceremonial tigers spread out in a line before the throne. The hippy Lokhar with the square-shaped shades halted a comfortable distance behind them and directly in front of Diana. Count Gin Loris waddled up behind the hippy, putting his left paw on the tiger’s shoulder. The hippy tiger tilted just a bit, letting me know that the count rested some real weight on the shoulder.

  “This is a late hour for an official meeting,” Count Loris complained. He had a deep voice and spoke English with hardly an accent.

  “We’re happy to see you, Count,” Diana said. “You are gracious to have accepted our invitation on such short notice.”

  “Yes, yes,” Loris said dismissively. “Your communication said this involved Commander Creed.”

  Diana paled. That was a nice touch, and I appreciated it.

  “I’m Creed, fat boy,” I said, speaking up.

  The ceremonial tigers stiffened—a few of them more than the others. I wondered what that meant. The hippy tiger’s head swiveled so he seemed to regard me through his tinted shades. Count Loris did not acknowledge my presence or my comment.

  “You have told us for quite some time,” Count Loris said, “that Creed was nowhere to be found on Earth. Can it be that you’ve finally found the commander after all this time?”

  “The commander has just arrived home after a long absence,” Diana said.

  “Ah,” Loris said, as if everyone knew that was a lie.

  “We have debated among ourselves concerning your Emperor’s proposal,” Diana added.

  “Indeed,” Loris said. “Then you wish for peace among our two peoples?”

  “We wish for peace,” Diana said, sounding tired.

  Count Loris finally looked at me. I didn’t like him. I didn’t like any of his company, but that was no surprise.

  “If we can authenticate the criminal’s identity,” Loris said, “and if that is indeed the notorious Commander Creed, in full use of his mental capabilities—”

  Count Loris took his paw from the hippy tiger’s shoulder and rubbed his hands together. “Is that Creed?”

  “I’ll tell you what,” I said. “Have the Prime Minister remove these shackles and I’ll kill your toughest warrior, guaranteed. Then, you’ll know it’s me, fat boy.”

  The ceremonially armed Lokhars grumbled angrily as they glared at me.

  “Silence,” the hippy tiger said in a high-pitched voice.

  The ceremonially armed tigers stiffened, falling silent.

  “He certainly acts like Creed,” Count Loris said. “However, we will need full authentication before we can proceed.”

  “And if we can prove to your satisfaction that this is Commander Creed?” Diana asked.

  “Will you give him into our custody?” Loris asked.

  Dianna hesitated before nodding.

  “Then, if he proves to be Commander Creed we can sign a peace accord,” Count Loris said. “You have seen that I have full authority to do so.”

  “I have seen,” Diana said. “But I have another request to add, as a precondition.”

  Count Loris stared at her. “Name it,” he finally said.

  “You’re aware of the latest attack against Earth?” Diana asked.

  Loris dipped his head.

  “The aliens…” Diana trailed off. “We desire twenty Lokhar heavy cruisers.”

  “I see,” Loris said. “You realize that that is far too much to ask of us.”

  “I realize no such thing,” Diana said. “Twenty heavy cruisers. I trust the Emperor’s word, certainly. If he is twenty heavy cruisers weaker and I am twenty stronger, that will help me trust his word even more.”

  “Ah,” Loris said. “Well, when you put it like that…”

  “Unless, of course,” Diana said, “you lack the authority to make such a decision.”

  “I have the authority,” Count Loris said flatly. “I will debate policy with my team tonight. You will have my answer in the morning.”

  “I understand,” Diana said.

  Count Loris glanced at me, nodding several times before regarding Diana again. “You must ensure Commander Creed does not escape you nor commit suicide while in your custody.”

  “He will enter a high security cell as soon as we’re finished here,” Diana said. “Rest assured, the commander will be waiting for you in the morning.”

  “Excellent,” Loris purred. “Yes, most excellent.” He paused. “You are making a wise choice, Prime Minister. The Emperor has sworn to make Commander Creed pay for his monstrous crimes against Purple Tamika. He has sworn to do so upon the homeworld before all the notables of the empire. After tomorrow, if my team agrees to your…request, you will find a newfound friend in Emperor Daniel Lex Rex.”

  “Good,” Diana managed to say.

  “Until tomorrow,” Count Loris said.

  “Until tomorrow,” Diana whispered.

  -18-

  After Ambassador Loris left, Diana fled the chamber before I could say anything to her.

  “It looks like I’m a valuable commodity,” I told Briggs.

  The general wouldn’t look at me. He left a moment later, taking the other officer and Nancy with him.

  Police Proconsul Spencer stood, taking his time to adjust his suit, and finally approached me. “Do you have anything to add, perhaps?”

  “I protest against such treacherous treatment,” I said.

  “We both know that isn’t what I meant. Are you the Curator’s Effectuator? If you are, that will automatically change your status among us.”

  “Where did you ever
hear about such a thing as an Effectuator?”

  “We’re serious about this, Commander.”

  “How many times do I have to tell you that it’s just Creed?”

  “Earth must have peace,” Spencer said. “We can’t fight the Jade League and the Plutonians at the same time.”

  “Let’s be serious for a minute,” I said. “You can’t successfully fight the Jade League or the Plutonians one at a time.”

  Spencer stared at me.

  “Do you believe the Lokhar Emperor will keep his word?” I asked.

  “For a time,” Spencer said.

  “Long enough for the Plutonians to defeat Earth?” I asked.

  Spencer raised an eyebrow. “Tell me about Acheron, the planet with First One tech.”

  “I’ll take you there,” I said, “but I won’t tell you where it is while I’m a prisoner.”

  “Do you love humanity more or do you love your skin more?”

  “That’s not it,” I said. “The knowledge won’t help you without me. But if you have the knowledge, you might trade it to the Lokhars for another transitory advantage. I can’t allow that.”

  “There’s another option,” Spencer said. “We could go to Acheron later.”

  “I already told you. Without me, Acheron is worse than useless to you. The guardian will destroy whatever you send.”

  “Because you’re the Effectuator, and only you have the special tools to defeat the guardian?”

  I said nothing.

  “We don’t want to make the trade,” Spencer said.

  “Then don’t.”

  “But we have a greater obligation than just to our consciences. We will do whatever we must to keep the human race alive.”

  “I believe you,” I said. “Thus, I forgive you for doing this.”

  Spencer’s eyes narrowed. “You’re taking this much too lightly. Our giving you to the Lokhars is a real possibility.”

  “Look. I get it. You’re trying to pressure me. But I’m not the Effectuator, so pressuring me is pointless.”

  “After here, I’m taking you to our securest prison.”

  “Do what you gotta, pal.”

  He studied me for a time, and I wondered what he was thinking. “I see,” he finally said. “You’re really going to force our hand.”

  I said nothing, because he had hit far too close to the truth, but maybe not in the way he thought.

  “You won’t escape the prison,” he said.

  I said nothing.

  “Ella Timoshenko is not going to come to your rescue.”

  I turned my head, looking elsewhere.

  “First Admiral Rollo is a broken reed,” Spencer informed me. “These days, he enters a fighting cage for money. Don’t expect any help from him.”

  “I won’t and don’t,” I said softly.

  “N7 is dead,” Spencer said, “slain during the Plutonian raid. Dmitri Rostov died ten years ago, killed by Abaddon. You’re alone, Creed.”

  “No,” I said. “You’re alone, and you’re spitting in the face of the one person who came to help you.”

  He searched my eyes, and I could see he was a crafty man. That was good. I also saw that he was a highly ambitious man. That…might not be so good.

  “Guards,” Spencer said, while turning away. “Escort the gentleman to the Rat’s Nest. Put him in Solitary Cell Z/Z, and tell the warden to keep a constant watch on him. It’s the warden’s hide if Creed dies or goes missing before tomorrow morning.”

  The guards hurried to me.

  “This is your last chance,” Spencer told me.

  “I’m not going to lie to you and tell you that I’m someone I’m not,” I said. “But I still think your best chance is to work with me.”

  The small Police Proconsul sighed, shaking his head and walking away. I was glad he did. The pretense, on my part, was becoming taxing, and I had a lot of work to do tonight.

  -19-

  The Rat’s Nest was a deep underground facility several kilometers from the main Government House. The Ambassador’s quarters were between the two places, which was important for what I had in mind.

  The Curator had forbidden me to interfere here. Yet, he’d shown me Jennifer and told me about the Plutonians, giving me just enough information to set me on the trail. When the Curator really didn’t want me to do something, he kept quiet about the issue.

  Was I dead certain the Curator wanted me to do this? No. But I’d learned a long time ago to go with my gut. I’d known a month and a half ago about the Emperor’s offer. I’d also learned about the Ambassador’s presence on Earth before I’d landed.

  I hadn’t known Diana was going to hand me over to the Lokhars, but I’d figured that might be a possibility. Instead of feeling sorry for myself while Diana made the offer and sulking as the marines brought me down to my cell, I’d been formulating my plan. A lot of that plan was going to depend on how well N7 had incorporated my modifications to his AI brain.

  I sat back on the cot in my cell, putting my hands behind my head.

  The cell was deep underground, had several video feeds focused on me and several guards sitting at a table, keeping an eye on me as they played cards. Along with the guards was a bank of controls. Their area was spacious, mine rather cramped, with bars between us.

  Each of the guards had a stun gun and a nightstick on his belt. They were muscular, one of them a short man with long, knotty arms, another with a polished bald head and eyes like chips of lead.

  These three wouldn’t hesitate to take me down any way they could.

  As I sat back, with my hands behind my head, I watched them, staring at each of them in turn.

  Finally, the short man with the long arms turned his chair so he faced me. “Do you mind?” he growled.

  “Sitting in here?” I asked. “Yeah. I do. Thanks for asking.”

  “Don’t bother with him, Dan. Don’t you know he’s Commander Creed? He thinks he’s tough shit.” That was Mr. Polished Head speaking.

  “Come on,” I said. “I don’t think that.”

  They all looked at me.

  “I know it,” I told them.

  Long-armed Dan frowned. Mr. Polished Head snorted.

  “Let’s get back to the game,” the third guard said.

  “You don’t believe me?” I asked.

  “I don’t,” Dan said, trying to stare me down.

  “I could take all three of you at once,” I said.

  “Wrong,” Dan said. “You couldn’t even take me.”

  “With one arm tied behind my back,” I said. “Do you want to try?”

  Dan scraped his chair back and stood up.

  “No,” Mr. Polished Head said. “That’s not going to happen, Dan.”

  “But—”

  “No!” Mr. Polished Head said. “Can’t you see he’s renting space in your head?”

  Dan looked at him.

  “Yeah,” Mr. Polished Head said. “Sit down. Play cards. He’s not going anywhere. If he bugs you, just think about him dying hard on the Lokhar Homeworld in front of them nobles.”

  Dan thought about that, grinned at me and sat down again, pulling his chair back to its old spot.

  The three of them started playing cards in earnest, pointedly ignoring me.

  That, naturally, had been the reason for my shenanigans.

  Three quarters of an hour later, I saw the first sign that N7 knew what to do. I noticed a strange, telltale shimmer on one side of my cell. It was like a heat wave in the distance but bulged outward from one of the brick walls.

  I glanced at the card players. They were into their game. For their sakes, I hope they stayed interested, as I didn’t want to kill them.

  The shimmer became more pronounced, and I could see the ghostly outline of a suited man with a bubble helmet. I couldn’t quite see inside the helmet, but I knew it was N7.

  I pointedly looked up at the four video feeds watching me.

  The ghostly bubble helmet nodded up and down. He fiddled
with something on his belt, unlatched it and seemed to take my picture. He moved out of the brick wall and stepped to various parts of the cell, squeezing past and through me some of the time.

  Finally, N7 was ready.

  He was wearing a Shrike Lord Phase Suit. I would have preferred using a Ronin 9 Teleportation Suit such as we’d used against Abaddon ten years ago, but those hadn’t been anywhere to be found on the Fortress of Light. Thus, I’d taken the next best thing.

  The phase suit operated on similar principles as the Ve-Ky combat suit. I’d once made such a suit malfunction so the “Skinny” had died inside a wall.

  N7 phased into normal reality, becoming visible to anyone who looked. As he phased in, he set up small video slates before the cell cameras. To anyone watching, the slates would show me sitting on my cot with my arms behind my head.

  The video slates wouldn’t help, however, if one of the card players looked over here. Given the law of averages, one of them would do that soon enough.

  N7 handed me a pair of earmuffs. I put them on. He activated a sonic stunner, aiming the device at the card table.

  All I heard was a slight hum.

  With sudden and violent swiftness, the three pitched onto the floor, clutching their ears as they twisted in pain. Finally, each man relaxed as he fell unconscious.

  N7 lowered the stunner, clicked a switch and signaled me.

  The hum went away. I took off the earmuffs, hearing nothing now.

  N7 twisted off his bubble helmet, removing it from the suit. “Are you well, Creed?”

  “Fantastic,” I said. “I’m being sold like a piece of meat. Nothing could be better. You did good, N7. Now, secure the guards and then come back here. You did land the GEV nearby, didn’t you?”

  “Of course,” he said.

  “Good. We have a lot to do if we’re going to finish this before anyone discovers I’m missing.”

  -20-

  In the interest of speed—after securing the guards, of course—N7 put on the bubble helmet and picked me up. He then activated the phase suit.

  I didn’t like moving out of phase without a suit, but I felt like I’d need every second and thus insisted N7 get going. I had a plan, a good one, but it was complicated—which meant it had flaws.