Endurance: The Complete Series Page 7

  Collateral damage, Thomas thought, an echo of Captain Liu.

  He braced himself, prepared to give the order to run, and to hear the Haxozin fire his rifle into Echo’s brain. It was the sensible thing to do, the choice with the fewest negative consequences. It was the choice Dispatch would expect him to make.

  But it wasn’t the right choice.

  “Sorry,” he told Nervik.

  Then he shot him in the face.

  Nervik dropped just as quickly as Pierre had, crumpling into a heap on the ground. Echo flinched as the rifle went off, then stared in confusion at the dead form of her captor.

  Another pair of shots went off in rapid succession behind him, and Thomas turned to see that Areva had taken out one of the Haxozin pursuing them. “Hah!” she said. “He should’ve looked up.”

  A second Haxozin appeared from the hallway and immediately dropped to one knee to fire. Thomas aimed his rifle at it, but Chris beat him to the punch, clipping the alien in the leg. The blast didn’t break the armor, but it did distract the Haxozin long enough for Thomas to finish him off.

  The lobby of the capitol building subsided into silence.

  “Hurry,” Thomas said, crossing to untie Echo’s three hands. “That’s six of them, but there are four more somewhere. We have to get back to the ship.”

  “You …” Echo said slowly, her antennae swaying. “You saved my life. You killed the tribute collector.”

  “Yes. I did.”

  “Why?”

  Why indeed. “Because I took this job to protect people, and I’m damned well going to do it.” Thomas finished freeing her and helped her back to her feet, then turned to his two officers. “Let’s go.”

  They sprinted out the glass door and across the courtyard toward the ship, but before they made it even halfway, the remaining four Haxozin marched down the Endurance’s airlock ramp and formed a firing line.

  Thomas skidded to a halt, flanked by Areva and Chris, all three of their weapons pointed toward the Haxozin. Thomas swallowed. He hadn’t expected all four to be out here, and he certainly hadn’t thought they’d all be standing in the middle of the escape route. “Praphasat,” he whispered, “you take the one on the left …”

  “Can’t, sir. He’s looking.”

  “Seriously?”

  “It’s her thing,” Chris said. “You should’ve had her sneak around the edge of the courtyard to get them from a sniping position.”

  “Okay, how’s your marksmanship, Sergeant?”

  “With these guns? Bad, sir. When I hit that guy’s leg earlier, I was aiming for his chest. I think it’s the rifle’s fault.”

  So it was more or less Thomas against four Haxozin soldiers. How could he get out of that?

  The airlock behind the Haxozin opened and Viktor Ivanokoff, a gun in each hand and four more attached to his belt, marched outside and opened fire.

  The Haxozin pivoted and tried to readjust their aim, but Ivanokoff blew two of them away before they finished turning, and eliminated the remaining two just as they raised their own guns. Four armored bodies collapsed on the stone walkway, four bazooka rifles clattered to the ground, and Thomas’s eyebrows shot toward the sky.

  His first officer calmly re-holstered his weapons and looked down at the bodies. “What a terrible thing, war is.” From his tone, it sounded like a quote. The big man paused, then continued, “Fortunately, I am very good at it.”

  “That …” Thomas wasn’t quite sure what to say. “… was impressive.”

  “Thank you, Captain. Perhaps now you understand my fondness for Dickens and Dante.” Ivanokoff patted the two pistols in a loving manner.

  “I … I suppose I do.”

  “Then perhaps you will allow me to carry them, as before.”

  In his current adrenaline rush, Thomas was ready to agree to almost anything his first officer suggested, but he had the presence of mind to put off the decision until he hadn’t been about to die and his head wasn’t nearly splitting open at the seams. “Maybe. We’ll talk later.”

  Ivanokoff pursed his lips. “Very well, sir.”

  A voice spoke up from behind Thomas. “You finished them.”

  He turned to see Echo, translation box clutched in one hand, a bazooka rifle in the other two. “You finished them,” she said again. “All of them. The Haxozin are gone from our world.”

  “Put the gun down, please,” Thomas said, not sure what to make of the wild expression in her eyes.

  “Oh, of course.” Echo dropped the rifle and wrapped her hands around the translation box. “How did you defeat them?”

  “Luck,” said Chris.

  “Skill,” said Thomas.

  “Better weapons,” said Ivanokoff.

  All at the same time.

  Echo’s antennae shifted from side to side. “I’m sorry. I didn’t understand that. I suppose it doesn’t matter.” She turned toward the capitol building and waved a hand. “Come out! Come meet them. The discord is over.”

  Dozens of the People of Tone began flooding out of the capitol, and then out of the buildings on either side of the courtyard as well. Thomas tightened his grip on the rifle out of instinct, but the people moved in too orderly and controlled a fashion to be dangerous. Areva ran up the airlock ramp to hide behind Ivanokoff. Chris stood watching the approaching crowd with Thomas, then murmured, “It’s a xenobiologist’s dream.”

  The swarm of grey people stopped a few meters away, except for two of them, a man and a second woman, who came to stand with Echo. “Is it true?” asked the man. “The Haxozin are defeated?”

  “They are!” Echo shouted.

  “Don’t get too excited,” Thomas said. Goodness, it was like the lunar plaza press frenzy all over again. “There were only ten of them. I’m guessing more will come, especially when these ones don’t report in.”

  “Then you will defeat those who come, too,” Echo said.

  “That’s … not really on the agenda. We’re only here by accident. And even if our world wanted to get involved with this Haxozin Sovereignty, they wouldn’t send us to do it.”

  Echo tilted her antennae. “Why not?”

  “Because …” Because they were incompetent? The fact that they were still here proved otherwise. As Thomas tried to answer the question, the only response he could justify was, “Because we don’t play by the rules.”

  Maybe he did belong with them after all.

  Echo’s face lit up. “Then we will stop playing by the rules as well.” She turned to face the woman and the man standing with her. “First Leader, Second Leader, I propose that the People of Tone secede from the Haxozin Sovereignty. Clearly, they are not as all-powerful as they have led us to believe. With the weapons and technology we can salvage from the tribute collectors, I believe we can defend ourselves from any counterattack.”

  “Now hold on,” said Thomas.

  “You may be right, Echo,” said the woman, apparently the First Leader. “We will discuss it in our next meeting, but in the meantime we will take an inventory of the technology the Haxozin have left here. I imagine we can learn to use it all, given enough time.” She then faced Thomas. “We like to be hospitable, as far as allowed by the Hax …” She stopped herself. “So sorry for that. Years of habit. We like to be hospitable. Is there anything we can provide for you?”

  Thomas could see nothing he said would make a difference in the political movement now happening on the planet. It was probably just as well; if it was this easy to start a revolution, something would have triggered it soon anyway. “We’d like some chrioladium to repair our ship.”

  Echo wiggled her antennae. “Of course.”

  “May we keep the guns?” Ivanokoff called from behind him. “I like them.”

  “Certainly.”

  “And we could probably use any information you have about the Haxozin Sovereignty,” said Thomas. “They’re going to be mad at us. We should be prepared in case they start looking for Earth. I mean, Dirt.”

  �
�Yes, that is a wise precaution. I will have all of our files transferred, along with a program that will translate them for you. That is,” Echo smiled, “if we may have permission to access your computer this time.”

  “You may.”

  Second Leader stepped forward, took the translation box from Echo’s hands, and passed it to Thomas. “Please also take this,” he said. “I imagine, with the ability to travel faster than light, you will see many more worlds and encounter many more people than we ever could. If you could download their language files and bring them to us the next time you visit, it would greatly further our studies of sound.”

  Thomas accepted the box, but hesitated. “We aren’t really planning to travel around.”

  Second Leader shrugged. “Then consider it a gift that we hope you might one day use to assist us. We are patient in our studies. The thousand languages you already gave us will provide our researchers with work for quite some time.”

  Thomas nodded and tucked the translation box under his arm. “Thank you.”

  “I imagine you are tired,” Echo said. “Do you have accommodations on your ship, or would you like a place to stay?”

  “No, we’ll be fine on the Endurance. But thank you.” The thought of resting on his bunk brought Thomas’s headache back with a vengeance.

  “Then we will speak again once we have collected the materials you need.”

  “That sounds good. Let’s go, people.” Thomas and Chris joined Areva and Ivanokoff. Ivanokoff entered his access code—three times—and the door opened to allow them through.

  Most of the crew was waiting on the other side. “What happened?” “Did we win?” “Did he use both Dickens and Dante?” “They look pretty beat up. Are they okay?” “We won, right?” “Somebody get Maureen.” “The captain’s a hero in the corps. Of course we won.”

  That last one turned Thomas’s head, but he couldn’t see who had said it.

  Ivanokoff pushed his way into the crowd and raised his booming voice. “Everything is fine. We won the fight. The nice grey aliens are going to help us fix the ship. We are going home. Please return to your duties.”

  Cheers and applause broke out, and everyone began high-fiving one another. “Making history!” someone shouted. Thomas spotted Chris engaging in an intense discussion with Joyce, probably explaining how he was right about aliens wanting to conquer Earth. Areva had disappeared.

  Ivanokoff strode back to where Thomas was standing. “You should have your head examined, sir.”

  Thomas gave him a sharp look. “What?”

  “Your head, sir. There is blood. You should have Maureen inspect it.”

  “Oh.” Thomas pressed his hand to his skull and felt the wound. “Yes. Thank you.”

  “Just doing my job, sir.”

  The first officer started to move away, but Thomas caught his arm. “Lieutenant. I owe you an apology. You were right to call me out earlier.”

  Ivanokoff shrugged. “As I said, sir, I am big.” But he smiled as he said it. “Does this mean you will change your mind about the new rules?”

  “Probably not. But who knows? Give me enough time, and it might happen.”

  They went their separate ways—Ivanokoff toward the bridge to ensure the data transfer and repairs proceeded properly, Thomas to the medical bay to see to his injuries. As he passed Matthias in the hallway, Thomas handed him the translation box. “I have a side project for you. See if you can figure out how that works. Don’t break it.”

  “Okay. What is it?” the engineer asked, already turning the box on each side to inspect it.

  “It translates between languages.”

  Matthias’s face lit up. “Ooh! Can we call it the talky box?”

  “No.”

  “But …”

  “I have a headache the size of a small country right now, so this conversation is going to have to wait until later.” Thomas paused. While he was giving apologies, he could afford to be nicer to the engineer. “But I look forward to hearing what you learn about that box. You’re good at your job, Lieutenant.”

  Matthias grinned. “Thanks, sir! Did we get the chrioladium?”

  “It’ll be on board by the end of the day.”

  Matthias whooped and turned to head back to the reactor room. “I’ll have us back on Earth before you know it!”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  The pounding in his head was becoming too much to bear, so Thomas hurried the rest of the way to the medical bay. After Maureen inspected him, cleaned up the blood, concluded that he might or might not have a concussion, and handed him a container of painkillers, he headed back to his berth.

  After he finished changing out of his dirtied and bloodied uniform, the computer access console on his desk caught his eye. You just walked on a new planet, started a revolution, and declared war on an alien species, he thought to himself. The big problems are over with. Time to deal with the smaller ones.

  He took a seat at the desk and opened the computer, then keyed in his access code. A list of his messages popped up on the screen, and he clicked to open the unread one from Loretta Bailey. He steeled himself against what was sure to be another letter of thanks and praise, congratulating him on his “well-earned” promotion, and began to read.

  Dear Thomas Withers,

  I know this is a little weird, but I felt like I needed to write to you. I’m the woman you saved from that gunman at the lunar plaza. I can’t imagine how hard it was to make the decision to shoot him, but I’m grateful that you made it anyway.

  My brother is a United Earth Law Enforcement officer stationed on Mars, so when I heard how they’d promoted you and assigned you to that ship, I knew what it meant. I’ve heard the stories. I’m sorry that they’re punishing you for saving a life. Rumors are flying that the gunman was a key player in the Uprising, so maybe if you hadn’t saved me, a lot more good could’ve been done. I don’t know. All I know is that I was going to die, and you stopped that from happening. For that, you are my hero.

  I’m not sure how often you get leave time, but if you find yourself around Lunar Dome Three any time in the future, I’d love to meet you for coffee or lunch or something. Don’t feel pressured; I’d just enjoy the opportunity to say my thank-you in person.

  Hoping you are well, and that they let you out of that dead-end job soon.

  Sincerely,

  Loretta Bailey

  Thomas took in a shaky breath. She understood. She wasn’t gushing, she wasn’t fawning, and she wasn’t ignorant of what had really happened that day. She got it. And she was at peace with it.

  After the events of the past week, so was he.

  He pulled the computer closer and began to write out a reply, to be transmitted as soon as they returned to their own solar system.

  Dear Ms. Bailey,

  I can write with complete honesty that, even knowing the consequences of my actions, I would make the choice to save your life again in a heartbeat. It would be a pleasure to meet you for lunch …

  * * *

  Less than a day later, Thomas sat in his command chair and looked at the World of Infinite Tones from orbit once more. The D Drive had been fixed, the files on the Haxozin uploaded, and the People of Tone had waved many three-handed farewells as the Endurance took off and headed back into space.

  “Two minutes until the D Drive is ready for the jump,” Ivanokoff reported from the defensives station. “And Matthias says he will have a schematic of the talky box in the next few days.”

  “We’re still not calling it that,” Thomas said.

  “Whatever you say, sir.” Ivanokoff crossed the bridge to stand beside the command chair. He lowered his voice. “You know, sir, the Haxozin may yet declare war on Earth.”

  “I know.”

  “And the circumstances of our disappearance will no doubt raise questions at home.”

  “I know.”

  “Dispatch will not be pleased. They will probably launch a full investigation into our conduct.” />
  Thomas smiled and shook his head. “Let them. We have nothing to hide. Besides, what are they going to do? Send us to direct traffic around Neptune?”

  Ivanokoff snorted. “You have a point, Captain.”

  Thomas’s intercom interface beeped. “Matthias Habassa paging you.”

  He tapped it. “Answer.”

  “All ready to go down here, Cap!” Matthias’s voice announced. “Just say the word, and we’ll be back in our own solar system in under a minute.”

  “Thank you, Lieutenant. You’ll get the signal from the helm station shortly.”

  “Sounds good. Engineers out!” A chorus of cheers arose from the other engineers, then the intercom line went dead.

  “Under a minute,” said Ivanokoff. “And then fireworks start.”

  “We’ll handle it.” This time, the “we” didn’t feel like such a foreign word to Thomas. “Back to your station, Lieutenant.”

  Ivanokoff nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  As his first officer returned to his seat beside Areva, Thomas tapped his intercom interface. “Page all personnel.” He waited a few seconds for the crew to tune in to his announcement. “We are about to engage the D Drive. Fasten your seatbelts and hang on. We’ll be home soon.” He nodded at the helm. “Whenever you’re ready.”

  Seatbelts clicked as the bridge crew strapped themselves into their chairs. The pilot tapped out a series of commands into his computer console. Thomas secured himself and held onto his armrests, not wanting to wind up sprawled on the ground like last time.

  The ship lurched forward, and the viewport suddenly became a mass of swirling streaks, starlight bending in impossible ways, space shifting and rolling and folding in on itself until Thomas had to look away to keep himself from getting sick.

  When he looked back, his own planet’s sun shone in the distance. He could just make out a small blue dot in the upper left hand corner of the viewports.

  Engineering paged him again, and Matthias announced, “Jump complete, Cap! We’re back home. And the D Drive is still perfectly functional.”