That’s when I shot him down.

  Sure, it was a dirty trick. But I had my reasons. I suspected that Winslade had done something to the ship’s power systems. Why, I wasn’t sure, but I couldn’t afford for the whole legion to go missing in space. I had a daughter to go home to and plenty of women to meet and make friends with. Not to mention countless aliens to kill.

  Isn’t it worth one man’s life, and possibly a slight loss of honor, in order to stop everyone you know from being permed?

  In my book, killing Winslade by surprise was a no-brainer.

  -24-

  It’s tough to hold a trial, or even an investigation, on a ship so full of soldiers they were sleeping in lockers. But I had to hand it to Graves, he gave it a solid try.

  “McGill,” he said, confronting me with the same sour expression everyone seemed to be wearing today. “What you did today doesn’t qualify as a duel. The old-fashioned word for it is murder.”

  “I’d call it a duel,” I said firmly. “He even drew first. He had a needler in his hand, didn’t he?”

  “We have a dozen witnesses and camera shots of the action,” Graves said tiredly. “You walked away, waited until he looked down, then shot him.”

  “That’s a damned lie, sir!” I boomed in the most convincing tone I could muster. “Sometimes, you just have to be there at the scene.”

  Graves heaved a sigh. He turned to Turov, the only other person in the office.

  Galina’s modest office was also her cabin now, and only her high rank allowed her to keep it.

  “That’s all we’re going to get out of him,” he told her. “Grade-A Georgia bullshit. I suggest we demote and execute. We can revive him when we arrive at Tau Orionis—or even when we return to Earth. He’s supposed to be dead anyway.”

  “But he isn’t,” Galina said, eyeing me. “And we can’t very well revive anyone, not even Winslade. No one below the rank of primus will get a revive on this ship until we reach our destination. It’s too crowded.”

  Graves shrugged. “So? We’ll revive them both when we arrive and leave warp.”

  “McGill?” Turov asked me, ignoring Graves. “There’s one thing you never explained... Why did you do it?”

  “I told you, sirs. He had a weapon—a concealed weapon in his hand. I had no choice but to defend myself.”

  Galina rolled her eyes. “I’m trying to help you, you oaf. Talk to me.”

  It was my turn to look uncomfortable. After all, any further discussion of what had transpired between Winslade and I lately could become messy. I’d avoided telling them I’d given him hints concerning his past, and why he’d been demoted. Sometimes, people took my blabbing about secret information like that the wrong way.

  Heaving a sigh of my own, I decided to come clean—partway, that is.

  “He was the saboteur,” I said. “The man who damaged the power generators.”

  Both of them shifted with sudden interest. They’d been bored just moments earlier, but this was information they cared about.

  “Proof?” Graves demanded. “Do you have proof of these accusations, McGill?”

  “I sure do! Those shifty eyes, that needler in his palm—only a guilty man would react like that!”

  Graves crossed his arms and frowned at me. “That’s not proof, McGill.”

  “It is where I come from. He’s as guilty as sin, sirs. Mark my words.”

  “Hunches and intuition do not constitute proof, McGill.”

  “But the stakes were too high! I had to kill him! If I was right, and he succeeded the next time he tried, we’d all be toast. You’d be just a few grams of dust and gas sailing through space, Primus. There wouldn’t even be enough left of all of us combined to fill a mason jar.”

  Graves didn’t look happy, but Turov chose that moment to intervene. “You’re saying you acted out of an abundance of caution? That isn’t like you—rash action is, but not caution.”

  “I had to save the ship. I had to save us all. You let him stay on ice, we’ll see if there are any more mysterious accidents on the way out to our destination.”

  She nodded. “All right. We’ll do just that. We will table the matter until after we arrive at Tau Orionis.”

  Graves grumbled lightly, and I managed not to gloat. I kept a serious expression on my face throughout, until after Graves had left.

  Standing up and reaching for the door, I heard Galina’s voice behind me.

  “Not so fast, McGill,” she said. “Why did you really kill him?”

  Turning around, I faced her. She was looking just as suspicious, and cute, as usual.

  “Winslade is a snake on the best of days,” I told her. “He knows something is up. He knows he died out at Clone World and that he lost his memories. He’s not too happy about the demotion, either.”

  “What I don’t understand is how he’s gotten the ear of Wurtenberger so quickly. I’ve been trying to charm that man for years. He’s a fat lump of stone.”

  That made sense to me. I knew that Galina was gifted when it came to gathering high-level patrons. These were usually older, figurehead-types among the brass. Political people who’d gotten their jobs through family and influence. Everyone at that level seemed to like meeting a smart, fast-talking young lady—even the women.

  Galina wasn’t actually young, mind you, but she looked the part. Often, that was all that mattered. She never let herself get older than mid-twenties. When she did, she arranged to be quietly killed somehow to freshen up her appearance. Some people would do just about anything to keep looking good.

  “I could try to find out…” I said.

  “How? Interrogation? You’ve already killed him, you brute. And no, I won’t revive him just so you can do it again.”

  “Okay… but I’ve got other leads to follow up on.”

  I was bullshitting, but Galina bought it. She’d had a rivalry going with Winslade for many years now. When I’d first met the two of them, he’d been her lackey. Now, as the years rolled by, he’d come into his own in matters of intrigue and scheming. He no longer operated as a henchman. He had personal ambitions, and he’d learned from the best as to how to achieve them.

  “Really?” she said. “If you succeed… I would be grateful.”

  “How grateful?” I asked, and I slipped an arm around her.

  Her eyes widened. “James! We’re aboard a packed battlecruiser. Absolutely no one on this ship is getting laid until we reach our destination.”

  I smiled. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”

  She glanced around, and I pulled her gently up against me. She was still tense, still pushing me off a little, so I didn’t paw at her. She had to choose.

  Finally, she melted and put her head against my chest. “I like that you killed him. He’s been pissing me off lately.”

  That seemed like a strange reason to make love, but I wasn’t the picky type. I gently kissed her, and soon we were in a clinch. The next hour or so passed very pleasantly.

  Outside our door, we could hear people shuffle and occasionally thump into the walls. They were so crowded out there they would have been scandalized to see what was going on in the only private chamber aboard the U. E. Berlin.

  Accordingly, we kept things as quiet as we could.

  -25-

  Eleven cramped days passed before we finally reached our destination. I don’t think the legion was ever so happy to see a strange sun loom bright and close as it was with Tau Orionis. We were ready to get off the U. E. Berlin anywhere we could.

  Despite our urgency to invade, when the engineers let the warp bubble fade away we all cringed. We half-expected the ship to blow up or something—but it didn’t. Berlin slid into far orbit just like she was supposed to.

  We arrived at a cautious distance from the central star, some eight hundred million kilometers out. That’s about the orbital range of Jupiter back home.

  “That reentry was as slick as a hog-pie!” I announced loudly.

  Graves and Turov glanced at me. They knew I was hinting around that I’d been right about Winslade. We’d had zero problems aboard since I’d put that snake on ice.

  “Project the environment,” Turov ordered the navigators.

  Captain Merton seemed irritated about this. He was a chunky man with black hair and a round face that always looked like it needed a shave. He’d been our captain aboard Legate, and since he’d lost his command they’d given him the captured Berlin to tool around in.

  That might have seemed like a sweet upgrade for a transport flyer, but Merton also got Varus to go with his new ship. That part he wasn’t so keen on. In particular, he didn’t like Turov and her power-grabbing ways.

  Before his crew could so much as reach for the control boards that displayed data on the central holotank, Merton put up his own hand to stop them.

  “I want abstract information only,” he said in a commanding tone. “A tactical sitrep. Leave all planets and other contacts displayed in wireframe.”

  Slowly, Turov turned to give him an awful look. All the way out here to Tau Orionis, she’d let him run his bridge the way he liked. But now that we’d reached our destination, to her way of thinking, she was in charge of the mission.

  “Captain,” she said in an acidic tone, “perhaps there’s some kind of misunderstanding—”

  Without even looking at her, he whipped out a scrap of computer paper and held it under her nose. When she didn’t take it right off, he rattled it impatiently.

  “New orders?” she asked in a deceptively quiet voice. I knew when I heard that voice that she was in an evil mood.

  “Nothing new here. These were given to me as we left Earth. They stipulate the exact circumstances under which you are in command on this bridge.”

  “And what circumstances are those?”

  He gave her a slight smile. “No circumstances at all, as it turns out. In brief, they say that while on the ground, you are in charge of your legion. While aboard Berlin—I’m in charge of everything. Surely you’ve noticed we’re all still on board?”

  She snatched away the rolled up computer paper and glanced at it. “You could have shown this to me earlier.”

  Captain Merton shrugged his lumpy shoulders. “It didn’t apply.”

  No one was fooled, least of all Turov. The captain had wanted to make sure she couldn’t argue about the orders, possibly getting them changed by someone back home. By dropping them into her face at the last moment, he was assured they’d be followed—at least for now.

  “All right,” Turov said. “I’ll leave you to it, then. Alert me when you’re in position to drop my troops.”

  The captain looked surprised, but he didn’t argue. He watched her saunter off the deck.

  I watched the imagery pouring in now. There was plenty from the sensors, and most of it I didn’t really understand.

  “Zoom in on the target planet,” Merton ordered.

  Immediately, sickeningly, a spinning globe grew and soon filled the center of the deck. I gaped at it. The planet looked lovely.

  “They make stardust armor on this tropical paradise?” I asked incredulously. “We must have the wrong place.”

  “It’s the right world…” the captain said. He was suddenly in a good mood and willing to entertain my questions. Up until today he’d barely tolerated me on the bridge. I guess that Galina’s retreat had uplifted his spirits. “You see those crystalline zones? The regions that resemble shiny mountain ranges?”

  “Huh… yeah, I guess. I thought they were reflections off of some ocean.”

  “No, they’re glass-like zones of silicates. Crystals the size of glaciers. They move, too. In any case, those regions have been dusted with compressed matter. That said, most of this world is fairly normal—even pleasant.”

  “I’ll be damned…” I stared as the techs zoomed in for a tighter shot. I could see there was a jungle along the equator, shallow seas with white beaches here and there, and cooler, darker green forests near the poles. Overall, it looked like a nice place to take a vacation.

  “We’ll make planetfall within forty hours,” the captain told me.

  “Plenty of time to gear up the troops for the drop.”

  Captain Merton glanced at me then, frowning. “Don’t you want to answer that?” he asked.

  “Huh? Oh…”

  My tapper was buzzing. There was red text all over it. I’d been so busy eyeballing the new planet I hadn’t really noticed.

  Turning my wrist so only my eyes could read the messages, I found they were rather simple and direct in nature.

  The first one said: KILL THAT FAT FUCK RIGHT NOW.

  I didn’t bother to read the rest. They were all from Galina. Swiftly, and managing not to look alarmed, I slid my sleeve down over my arm to cover my tapper.

  “Looks important,” the captain said, eyeing me.

  “Nah. It’s no big deal. It’s my birthday today. My adjuncts are throwing a surprise party—but I’m in on it.”

  “I see…” he said in a monotone. I didn’t know if he believed me or not, and I didn’t much care.

  The captain continued talking, showing me the various features of the planet we were supposed to invade. I found the place captivating, and he seemed to be entranced as well.

  We’d both been expecting something nasty, maybe with volcanic action and poison dust kicking up everywhere. But Tau Orionis wasn’t like that at all. Apparently, whenever the planet had received its close encounter with a neutron star, it had been a long, long time ago. The special materials we were after had sunk deep into the crust. They’d have to be mined out of those glassy mountains.

  All the while we talked and marveled together, my tapper kept buzzing intermittently, but I didn’t bother to check the messages. I knew who it was, and what she wanted.

  What I was thinking about was the order I’d gotten from Turov. I could do it, of course. Hell, I wouldn’t even have to break a sweat. The captain was standing near, and he didn’t look like he worked out much or anything.

  The trick would be to make it look accidental. The bridge marines, who were staring with interest at the planet, wouldn’t get in the way for the initial act. But they would surely throw a fuss over their dead captain after the deed was done.

  Would they have to die too? It seemed likely.

  I began to frown. After all, Galina didn’t really have any right to ask me to do this. I knew she was pissed off and all, but killing this captain on his own bridge—well, it just didn’t seem right to me.

  “Could I see those orders, sir?” I asked him.

  Merton looked at me. He considered me seriously for a moment, then he nodded and handed them over.

  I skimmed the document. It was signed by all the right people. A single page in length, the words were clear and to the point. Merton was in command in space, Turov on the ground. That was that.

  Handing the slip of plastic back to him, I gave him a salute. “With your permission, sir, I’d like to leave the bridge.”

  Merton nodded slowly, but he put up a hand when I turned to go. “They told me you were a just man, McGill.”

  “Uh… they did?”

  “Yes. I’m glad to see my information was correct.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Dismissed.”

  I walked off the bridge, wondering about several things at once. One thought was foremost in my mind, however: I was going to have to have a talk with Tribune Galina Turov.

  -26-

  After I traversed through a dozen bump-butt passages, I reached her private cabin and office. She didn’t answer when I hammered on the door.

  There were plenty of crewmen and troops around. They were slouching all over the deck. Some had rigged up hammocks that hung from the ceiling, the walls—anywhere they could find a little space of their own.

  The men were nudging one another and smirking. The women were looking huffy and disgusted. It had been impossible, naturally, for Galina and I to keep our illicit meetings on the down-low. With such a cramped ship and all, I figured everyone aboard knew we were screwing by now.

  None of this dissuaded me from thumping that door. I knew she was in there—I’d checked with my tapper.

  Finally, the door flew open. The interior was dark.

  I hesitated before stepping inside. After all, she’d just ordered me to murder a man, which meant by definition she was in an unpleasant mood.

  “Uh… Tribune?” I called out vaguely.

  There was no response, so I decided to man-up and avoid all the eye-rolling giggles at the same time. I stepped inside and closed the door behind me.

  The interior was seriously dark, and it stayed that way, even when I touched the wall panels. She must have muted the switches.

  “Uh…” I said, uncertain, “are you depressed or something?”

  “Or something,” she said.

  It didn’t take a genius to realize I might have made a mistake coming here, but I was already in her room, so I figured I might as well go all the way.

  “Where do you get off ordering me to murder a ship’s captain in the middle of a campaign?”

  She didn’t answer me right off. My eyes were adjusting to the light—or rather the lack of it. She was sitting at her desk in the dark.

  It was the glow of her tapper that had caught my eye. She was fluttering her fingers over it like a pro.

  “Huh,” I said. “Nothing to say for yourself? You were out of line today, and Merton knew what you told me to do. He stood around like he was curious to find out if I’d do it or not.”

  Finally, she raised her eyes and touched a lamp on the desk. Soft light filled the cabin. “You failed me today, McGill,” she said, flopping back in her chair and sighing. “And yes, in answer to your question, I’m miserable.”

  “Why’s that, exactly? We’ll get to Tau Orionis soon enough, and you’ll be in charge then.”

  “It’s not just about being in charge, James. It’s about influence. About controlling one’s own destiny. Today’s failure predicts more failure tomorrow.”