“Sir, I’ve got important information from the enemy commanders. If you could find it in your heart to mount a rescue mission, I’d—”

  Graves began chuckling. He’d always had an odd sense of humor, but this didn’t seem like the right moment for jokes—not even for him.

  “Sir—?”

  “All right, McGill. Your wish has been granted. Sit tight, your rescue is incoming now.”

  Less than a minute later, a fighter screamed overhead. I knew by the way it was sending thundering echoes through the mountains that the pilot meant business.

  Unsurprisingly, the attack ship unloaded a single small bomblet in my direction. With smart-weapon precision, it homed in and blew me to fragments.

  It was a blessing, really.

  -34-

  I heard a rhythmic beeping. That was the first thing I became aware of. Why did Blue Deck people always have machines around that beeped all the time? It would drive me nuts to work in a place like that.

  “What have we got?”

  “He’s a nine… a pretty good grow.”

  “Okay. Ship him out and recharge the tanks.”

  That was it. No kind words, no gentle touches. I was unloaded and dumped onto a recovery chair, which felt like a wagon wheel with steel spokes up against my back.

  When I could stand and see well enough to walk, I found a uniform and frowned as I looked around the room. There were lots of revives in the process of gathering their wits. The bio people were pumping them out left and right. I thought to myself it was a good thing we were buying these machines at a cut rate from Shadowlanders these days.

  After getting dressed, I made the first mistake of my new lifetime: I looked at my tapper.

  It was a livid red, which indicated messages from higher-ups. Some of them were from Tribune Foam himself.

  “What’s the top squid want with me?” I asked nobody.

  Stumbling out into the passageways, people dodged around me. There was a general sense of alarm aboard Dominus, but it wasn’t a panic. We were in a war zone, and things were happening, but I got the feeling the ship wasn’t involved in an outright emergency.

  Before I could make it back to my module, my tapper began to buzz, and it answered itself. An ugly, cold-blooded face looked up at me. It was purple, pink and blue—nasty-looking.

  “Centurion McGill,” Foam said, “you have not returned my communications.”

  “Sorry, sir. I was busy dying and all that stuff.”

  “My records show you’ve been breathing independently for seventeen minutes. Ten minutes is the standard allotted time for returning to functionality. Given your rank, I find your lack of responsiveness inexcusable.”

  I rubbed my face and took a deep breath. Squids weren’t sweethearts. “Uh… I’ll do better next time, Tribune.”

  “See that you do, or your rank may be in jeopardy. I’m on Gold Deck. Seek me out and attend me.”

  My tapper went dark, and the squid was gone. Aliens weren’t really into saying things like “hi” or “bye.” They just kind of started talking and stopped when they felt like it. That was the squid way.

  Regretting my support for Foam, limited though it had been, I made my way up to Gold Deck and grabbed a sandwich in the officers’ mess before I found him in a conference room near the bridge. I was still chewing when I approached him.

  “Again, you force me to wait, McGill. I’m disgusted.”

  “Uh… sorry sir, but I needed a bite to eat.”

  The massive Cephalopod thrashed a little. “Nonsense. Revived humans can survive for up to eighteen hours without sustenance. I tire of excuses of this nature. Do all humans think about nothing but their creature comforts?”

  “Well… that is a big motivator, I have to admit.”

  “Disgusting…” Foam repeated. “Let us move on to the point of this meeting. You reported to Graves that you had spoken with Claver command. Further, you indicated you had critical information as a result of that discussion. You are hereby commanded to relay this information to me—immediately.”

  I blinked twice at the hulking squid before I remembered what he was talking about. “Oh… oh yeah. Here’s the deal: the Clavers knew we were coming. They’ve been getting ready, and that’s why they threw that force field up in our faces.”

  “I see. I’m not impressed with your report so far. Everything in it seems obvious.”

  “Wait, wait, I’ve got more. He said he’d called up reinforcements, that mercenaries were coming to defend this base.”

  Foam slid around a little to face me better, making a squishy sound on the deck as he did so. “Mercenaries? What is the nature of these rival forces?”

  “Unknown, sir. But we do know that saurians have been fighting us as paid troops in various systems recently. Also… well, there’s the Tau. They’ve been hot on the trail of these coins, and they love nothing better than money.”

  “The Tau… irrational beings who are known for their avarice. Your report is interesting, but insufficient to act upon.”

  “Untrue, sir. We have to hurry up and breach this dome. If we don’t, we might get taken out by these reinforcements.”

  Foam fumed. “And who is to take responsibility for this decision? You? Of course not. The indignity must be heaped upon hapless, benevolent Foam. You humans pretend to be thoughtful, united and obedient. Nothing could be further from the truth. Now that I’m in command, I find the rest of your top leadership to be extremely duplicitous.”

  “Uh… yeah. You’ve probably got the right idea there.”

  Foam studied me. “Interesting… I’ve begun to see things more clearly now. Human organizations have always been mysterious to my kind. Cephalopods are far more similar to one another. Humans are more varied in behavior and motivation.”

  “What do you mean, exactly, Tribune?” I asked.

  “Those of you at the bottom of your pyramids serve with vigor and trust. Those at the top are deceitful and self-serving.”

  I nodded and pointed a finger at him. “Now you’re talking sense. It’s not always like that—but Hegemony runs that way. What are squid societies like? Cephalopods, I mean.”

  “We are more uniform in nature. We work in unison for a common goal. Behavior is more predictable. We’re cooperative overall, but also always seeking advancement. A low-ranking member of my species is more likely to be a rival, but at the top, we are typically less devious than your people.”

  “Huh… that’s interesting.”

  “It’s also useless information. I must deal with the challenges at hand. Turov has ordered me to lead the assault on this planet personally. She says this will be a test of my skills as an officer.”

  I almost spit up the drink I’d snagged on the way into Foam’s office. Galina was playing this poor dupe. As the junior officer, he shouldn’t be running the show. She was either trying to evade responsibility for a suspected failure, or she was setting him up for a fall.

  Knowing her, I suspected it was a little of both. Foam made an easy target, as he didn’t really know what could be legitimately expected of him.

  My big mouth opened to tell him about this—but I didn’t speak another word.

  Why not? Because Foam was… well… kind of an asshole. I’d supported him and given him his chance, and he’d provided me with some armor. But that didn’t mean we were engaged or anything. How far was I obligated to go with helping out this pissy squid?

  Sure, I wanted the legion to give him a fair shake, but it was already costing me with the other officers. Squids were unpleasant to work for, and there was naturally going to be friction between Foam and the humans he commanded. Even if I became his loyal henchman, he’d never fully trust me—and I could never fully trust him. Worse, every human in the legion would hate me.

  Deciding Foam would have to fix this himself, I closed my big mouth with a snap. I wasn’t going to let him get blind-sided—but I wasn’t going to be his lackey, either.

  “What are your orders, Tribune?” I asked in a neutral tone.

  “Let us review the tactical situation.” So saying, Foam waved a thick tentacle over the holotank. The enemy stronghold appeared as a red circle surrounded by green blobs. Each of the blobs represented a cohort of troops.

  I frowned at the display. We were surrounding the icy valley with seventeen cohorts of troops sent down to land on the planet. That’s why I was frowning.

  “Uh… Tribune? What happened to the other three cohorts?”

  Each legion consisted of ten cohorts, one legion made up of humans, the other of Blood Worlders. There should have been twenty cohorts on the planet.

  “That is a sore point,” Foam admitted. “The enemy destroyed three of our lifters before they were able to land.”

  I whistled long and low. That was a bad stack of damage for any officer to own up to. Right off, I knew that’s why Galina had put Foam in charge. It was probably her unsubtle plan to blame the squid for this sick loss of expensive equipment.

  It also explained why Blue Deck was pouring out revives. Three cohorts was over three thousand troops—lots of dead men to bring back to life.

  “I will interpret your strange warbling noise as a cry of misery and sympathy,” Foam said when I stopped whistling. “The situation is grim, but not unrecoverable. We will crush this enemy. We outnumber them ten to one—or more.”

  “Yeah… but they’ve got the high ground, and the force-field… hmm… maybe you should back up your troops and use the bombards to take down the dome.”

  “We considered this drastic action. It can’t be done that way. If one fusion warhead were to penetrate the dome and impact the base all the coins we seek would be destroyed.”

  “Right, right… okay,” I said. “We’ll have to bombard the dome at a weak point with star-falls until it ruptures, then pour troops into the breach.”

  “That is essentially our plan, and it brings us to why you’re here at this moment, Centurion McGill.”

  “How’s that?”

  “I’d like to place you in command of a cohort. A formation of Blood Worlder troops that will lead the assault on the enemy fortifications.”

  My jaw sagged low, and it wasn’t even a trick. I was blown away. He was talking about making me into a primus. A full-fledged primus, not just a sub-primus loser, which was what they used to call the zoo legion officers.

  I stood there, struck dumb and staring.

  -35-

  “Tribune Foam? Are you sure you want to do that? Make me a primus, I mean?”

  “Yes. I reward successful and effective underlings. It is Cephalopod tradition to do so.”

  “Uh… there’s just one problem with your plan, sir. You’re not in charge of the zoo legion anymore—uh, the support legion, that is. You’re in charge of the human outfit.”

  The deck under Foam frothed and bubbled a little before he answered me. It had long been a contention of mine that he’d gotten his name from the disgusting liquids that formed in and around the base of his thick, slimy tentacles. Sure, every Cephalopod was grotesque and sticky down there—but they didn’t all make a lot of yellowy foam. This squid was the only one I’d seen who produced a mess that looked like bubbling suds on a regular basis.

  Did that mean Foam was a scaredy-squid? I wasn’t sure. I suspected it meant he had a system imbalance, maybe like a guy who sweated all the time. I’d met a few men like that.

  Whatever the cause… it was kind of nasty to watch.

  “McGill, you have stated an obvious problem. I have a solution, but it will require some effort on your part.”

  “Uh… how’s that, sir?”

  “You must discuss this matter with Tribune Winslade. If he is agreeable, then the matter is closed, and your promotion is assured. If he is not, however, you will inject him with this isotope.”

  He produced a metal vial with a red plastic cap on one end. He rolled it over the deck in my direction. Gingerly, I scooped it up and frowned a little at the yellowy stains that appeared on my fingers. Those foamy bubbles were kind of like iodine or something.

  “Inject him? What for?”

  “After you kill Winslade, you must insert the needle in this syringe directly under his tapper. The material inside will release itself. Performing this service will take care of our shared problem. You must trust me in this matter.”

  I stared at the vial in my hand.

  Now, I’m a dumb-fuck with bells on, just ask anybody. But despite my admitted lack of mental capacity, I found this entire idea of his to be rather… sketchy.

  “Huh…” I said, thinking things over.

  It was obvious that Foam wanted me to kill Winslade. I kind of suspected that the liquid in this vial would mess up his revive somehow—maybe it would even perm the target.

  Why would Foam want to do that? The answer seemed obvious. If Winslade was gone, maybe he could take over both legions.

  I could have told the new tribune it wouldn’t work out like that. Command would automatically transfer up the chain to Galina. She would appoint a new tribune, rather than handing over any more power to Foam.

  But then, even as my big mouth opened to point out these obvious gaps in the squid’s evil plan—I had another thought.

  What if I wasn’t the only sorry excuse for a human that Foam was manipulating? What if he had other agents—including one who could be stalking Galina right now with a drippy vial just like this one?

  My mind sped up, and I began to form a plan of my own.

  “Okay…” I said. “This all sounds real good, Tribune Foam, sir. I like the plan. More rank is worth any kind of assault on those above me. I’ll get right on it.”

  Foam squirted out some more bubbles, and he looked kind of excited. “I was concerned that you lacked the proper level of ambition, but my worries were unfounded. You are a good minion, McGill. None are superior. Your service will not be forgotten.”

  “Thank you, sir. May I be dismissed? I have some work to do.”

  “Yes. Hurry and perform my will without hesitation.”

  Marching out of the place, I paused in the passageways to have a thinking session. That was a rare thing for a man such as myself. I had options, now. Several of them.

  I could run off and whine about the squid’s plot which was clearly already in motion. That would be the easiest move, and it might have garnered me some pats on the head if I thwarted an attack.

  But it wouldn’t be super-impressive to the brass. They’d look into the matter and quickly discover that I’d single-handedly proven they were fools to promote a squid to the top of the Legion Varus food-chain.

  They weren’t going to like that inescapable conclusion, true though it might be. If there was anything that top-level officers hated, it was looking stupid. Therefore, it would be best to take a more subtle approach.

  So, instead of barging into Galina Turov’s office and demanding to see her, I checked my tapper quietly. She was alive and breathing on Gold Deck. That data was possible for me to look at partly because she was in my direct chain of command to the top. I couldn’t, however, use the system to locate her.

  This would take some thinking. If Galina was okay, she either wasn’t targeted or hadn’t been hit yet. Logically though, she should be hit before Winslade. Otherwise, she would be alerted and hole-up on the defensive.

  Heading to my module, I pulled on my black armor and then headed toward the elevators. When I reached Gold Deck, I didn’t go to Winslade’s office. Instead, I marched toward the very back of the place—where the important people lived.

  Galina’s office was peaceful. Gary was there, filing his nails or some such thing. Mostly, he was playing with his tapper.

  “What’s up, McGill?”

  “Where’s the imperator?”

  “In her office.”

  I shook my head, and I pointed to the empty seats in the waiting area. “No, she isn’t. If she was, there would be a dozen losers here waiting to see her.”

  Gary shrugged and looked down at his tapper. “Sorry. That’s all you’re getting out of me.”

  Two strides and one long-armed grab—that’s all it took to haul his skinny ass up and out of his chair.

  “What the fuck, McGill?” he squawked. “I’ll have you up on charges—again.”

  “You see this armor I’m wearing, Gary? This isn’t for fashion. I could kill fifty men in this if I wanted to. You will be the first.”

  Gary was shocked and alarmed. He tried to work his tapper to call security, but I slapped his hand away.

  “Now, where is she?”

  “This is uncool, McGill. You don’t want to know where she is. I’m protecting you from the truth.”

  I frowned. “Just tell me where.”

  “Green Deck, asshole. She’s got a hot date—are you happy to learn that? Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  I tossed him back into his chair and nodded to him. “Listen Gary, you’re right, I do owe you one. When this all goes to hell in a giant fireball, don’t tell anyone I was here. Things will go better for you if you never saw me today. Just play dumb about everything.”

  “What? Get out of here, you crazy cracker!” Gary looked confused and upset, but I noticed he didn’t contact anyone as I walked out. He knew me well, and I think he was more than a little afraid of me.

  Running hard and brushing aside anyone who got in my way, I raced down to Green Deck. Door Seven opened, and I marched inside.

  Where would she be? I only had to think about it for a few moments, then I had it. The grotto.

  Green Deck was riddled with secluded spots to hide in. This was because couples rarely got any privacy on long space voyages. Rather than having special consummation bunks, or dealing with embarrassments in the showers and restrooms, the shipbuilders had long ago decided to provide a pleasant space with numerous quiet places for intimacy.

  Galina had her favorites. We’d shared them on many occasions. At the top of her list was a spot we called “the grotto.”

  Marching toward the central lagoon, I followed the sandy shore at the bottom of a fake cliff. The grotto was tucked away behind one of the three fake waterfalls.