I blinked at him a few times before I caught his meaning. “Aw now, hold on! What’s this about? We had a deal, didn’t we?”

  “Yes, we did. This isn’t related to the coins. It’s related to my daughter. I sense in her an unusual emotion when the topic of James McGill is mentioned. I don’t like attachments of this kind—those I find distasteful.”

  “What? Seriously? You don’t like me? Not even a little bit?”

  Alexander smirked with his old, paper-thin lips. “I do actually find you amusing. But that isn’t a good enough reason to entangle my DNA with yours.”

  At this point, I have to confess, my mind was filling with violent thoughts. There were six guards with him, and they were armed while I wasn’t. Still… most of them weren’t even aiming their guns at me. They thought they had me in hand.

  Turov cocked his head as I stared in his direction. “You’re plotting my death, aren’t you? Like a cornered animal… intriguing.”

  “Uh…”

  “All right. I’ll give you a chance. Tell me something profound. Tell me why I should be impressed with you, as I have never been impressed with any male suitor of one of my daughters in the past.”

  “Uh…”

  My mind was a blank slate for several seconds. I’d been thinking about going berserk and killing one or two of these goons. With luck, I might even manage to get my hands on that skinny old throat and squeeze. Stranger things have happened.

  Shifting mental gears, I stared down at the grass for a moment. At last, I nodded.

  “There are certain things, sir, of which you might not be aware.”

  Alexander crossed his arms. “Try me. I keep a tight rein on this ship of state. Nothing of significance should happen on Earth or in the Heavens above her without my knowledge.”

  I reached up a hand and scratched the back of my neck. I’d been sworn not to talk about certain delicate matters, but this was a man in a position of real power. A man who could make or break a legion like mine—or me.

  “Sir, how about the rest of these men piss off? The things I have to say can’t be spoken in the presence of others.”

  He snorted. “You want us to be alone, do you? With me at your tender mercies?”

  “Well sir, you’re already in my range and breathing at my sufferance.”

  He squinted. “What? Nonsense—”

  Quick as a cat, I snapped my arm forward—the one I’d been using to scratch at the back of my overly-long neck. A blade shot out and caught the left guard in the head. It was a bad shot, unclean. I’d aimed for the eye socket, but I nailed him in the bridge of the nose instead. Fortunately, as the edge was molecularly aligned and crazy-sharp, it punched through the skull and killed him anyway. I’d picked it up from one of the dead Clavers while I was riffling the crate for coins.

  “See?” I said unhelpfully.

  It took a lot of shouting and wild gesturing for Alexander to control his goons after that. They were all dead-set on plugging me for murdering their buddy.

  At last, he ordered them to withdraw. They walked away, all sullen and cursing and casting evil glances over their shoulders at me.

  When they finally retreated, just the old man and I stood on a grassy hill where the aircars were supposed to land.

  “I have to admit, that was impressive,” he said. “Now that we’re alone, will you tell me whatever it is that you think is so important? Or is this all a ruse to commit murder? If so, I must warn you, I’ll be back to life before you.”

  “Well sir, I’ve got some important knowledge—but I’m not supposed to say it. I’m sworn not to, in fact.”

  “Interesting… As a Senior Public Servant of Earth, a person of extreme importance and the highest authority possible on this planet, I give you permission to speak. No, I’ll go further than that. You’ve intrigued me now, so I order you to speak.”

  Heaving a sigh, I decided to tell him a sordid tale. I told him about the day I’d been killed and sent to Trantor. I described the skies, the flying metal walkways, the boring décor. I wasn’t certain he’d never heard of my visit, but by the look on his face, I could tell he hadn’t.

  “A trillion of them?” he asked in amazement. “We’re hopeless, then. A single Mogwa planet so teeming with life… they rule over thousands of stars. They must outnumber us a billion to one…”

  “Hold on, that’s another thing. They only really have one planet, see.”

  That interested him, so I told him more. I ended with the story of how I returned to Earth, perming Xlur and escaping with a bullshit suicide note.

  By the end of the tale, Alexander wasn’t able to close his mouth properly—or so it seemed to me.

  “You killed the rightful governor of Province 921? Permanently?”

  “Uh… yessir. Didn’t you ever wonder why he never came back out here?”

  “But the Nairbs… they’ll figure it out. They’ll come for you eventually. They’ll come for all of us!”

  I held up one huge palm, cutting off a storm of accusations and misunderstandings.

  “All that’s already happened, sir. Remember that business with our Moon being a Skay and all?”

  “How could I forget?”

  “Well sir, Nox came out here on a witch-hunt back then. She’d figured out we killed Xlur see—”

  “You mean that you killed Xlur.”

  I shrugged. “To a Galactic it’s all one and the same. If one human performs a heinous crime, we’re all guilty.”

  “Right, right. Continue.”

  “So anyways, after I talked to her, she pretty much forgave us for the same reasons that Sateekas did. Xlur wasn’t much liked back on Trantor, you understand.”

  “Why wasn’t I told any of this? And what proof do you have?”

  I decided to skip the first question, as the answer had largely to do with the choices of his sneaky daughter. I’d learned long ago that you never ratted out a powerful man’s kid, no matter how much they deserved it. Instead, I answered his second question by paging through the archives on my tapper and playing a few choice recordings. I’ve found over the years that recording critical moments did wonders when it came to convincing people that incredible events were real.

  After he reviewed my vids, old Alex was left dumbstruck. He stopped talking to me—he stopped responding at all. He seemed to be lost in thought.

  I talked on for a time, making a few lame jokes and trying to improve his mood—but he ignored me.

  Then without warning, he snapped his saggy, skinny neck straight again and pointed a finger like a crooked pencil into my face.

  “You will obey me now McGill, or everything you know will cease to be. Your parents, your friends, your legion—all of it. Are you listening, Centurion?”

  “Uh… yessir.”

  Actually, I was already having more violent thoughts, but I tried to look contrite and cowed.

  Alexander watched me for a moment, and he seemed convinced. He was a man who was used to getting his way, so he accepted it when people acted like sheep in his presence. “Good. Now, here’s what I want you to do…”

  -60-

  When I arrived on the roof of Central in an aircar, a dozen hog gunmen rushed out to surround the vehicle. They were all sneers and jeers, but I took their bad manners in stride.

  “Hey boys, I brought you guys some Christmas presents.”

  So saying, I threw open the lid of the trunk. It was quite a roomy trunk, and inside were several boxes overflowing with golden Galactic credits.

  They’d all pointed their weapons at me when I’d opened the trunk, but once they saw the gleam of real money, their mouths hung low.

  “You’re James McGill?” the head hog asked me.

  “That’s right. Centurion James McGill of Legion Varus.”

  The hog walked close, and I noticed he had a pair of gravity cuffs in his hands. “McGill, we’ve got a warrant for your arrest. You’re also listed as dishonorably discharged from the legions. Now, about this cash—I really hope for your sake you’re not trying to bribe your way out of this. You’re already up on a long list of government charges.”

  “I’m sure you have the best of intentions, hog, but I don’t need your sympathy. Not today. Take a look in the backseat of this flying limo.”

  The hog snapped on the cuffs, and I made no effort to resist. Curious, he walked to the backdoors and flung them open.

  Inside were more boxes of coins. The hogs behind him leaned close. There were whispers and gasps.

  “This money… it doesn’t look legal.”

  “Careful now,” I admonished him. “You don’t want to be telling a Public Servant he’s in the wrong.”

  “A Public…?”

  Right then, old Alexander Turov climbed out of the other side of the aircar and eyed them all sternly. He wore his robes and the signet ring of a high official. The hogs melted away from his approach.

  Only the hog captain had the balls to say anything. He scanned the ring and the man’s tapper. His face turned ashen when the report came back on his own tapper.

  “You’re… you’re really Alexander Turov? The Public Servant?”

  “That’s right, hog!” I hooted. “You’d better stand down in a hurry.”

  The hog captain swallowed hard. “I’m sorry, sir. I had no idea you were coming. Usually, when VIPs fly in to Central, we’re given advance notice.”

  “Today is a different day,” old Alexander told him. “Unlock McGill’s bonds. All of you, grab a box of coins. We must carry these to the council chambers.”

  “Uh… but sir… can’t I at least tell someone you’re coming?”

  “No. You are not permitted to alert your masters. Snap inspections are, by nature, surprises to everyone.”

  “Ah… yessir.” The hog seemed to understand at last. This was a surprise visit, and the target of the visitation wasn’t him.

  He seemed almost happy as he removed my bonds and urged all the hogs to pick up a box. He no longer gave two shits about me. He was relieved to know that somebody else was going to be sweating today.

  We all marched into the building and rode an elevator to the big conference room. A sign posted outside said meeting in progress. Primus Bob almost had a conniption as we marched past him—but he didn’t try to stop us or warn Drusus. A brown-noser like him knew who had the most influential ass in town, and it was definitely parked under Turov’s robes today.

  The doors to the meeting chamber were locked, but a touch from Turov’s ring made them fly open. I realized right then that the ring was functional, not just a signet of the office. It worked like the Galactic key, but on human locks rather than Imperial tech.

  Beaming and carrying a box of my own, I marched into a monstrous conference room right behind Servant Turov. It was kind of fun, and I was grinning big.

  A dozen figures circled a table. Most of them were brass—imperators and tribunes. There were even two Praetors, and they were in charge. I even recognized Drusus among the crowd.

  One additional figure, however, stood out from the rest. That was Governess Nox. She had a retinue of Nairbs with her, and they were looking prissy and taking notes, as usual.

  “What is the meaning—?” Praetor Wurtenberger demanded, standing up and staring. But he fell quiet when he saw Alexander Turov walking in.

  “Servant?” Drusus asked. “To what do we owe this honor? Ah… are those boxes full of coins?”

  “Indeed they are. McGill, deposit the coins there.”

  Old Alexander directed me to place the boxes near the Nairbs, and I did so with a flourish. The flappy green aliens scowled and peered at me. Some of them sniffed the boxes experimentally.

  “What is the purpose of this intrusion?” the Chief Inspector Nairb asked.

  I recognized the green snot-bag. He’d been squirming around under Nox’s skirt for years. The last time we’d met up, he’d accused me of every crime he could dream up and then some.

  “If I’m not mistaken,” Nox said, “these animals are delivering tribute to the Empire. Is this correct?”

  Wurtenberger eyed Drusus, who eyed the servant in turn. None of them seemed to want to speak up first, so I jumped in.

  “That’s the honest truth, Governess Nox. We went and fetched your lost coins, and now we’re here to deliver them.”

  Nox slowly unwound herself from her seat at the council table—which was really more of a cushioned stool with a high back on it—and she approached the crates with an odd, wobbling gait. Like all Mogwa, she couldn’t walk straight. She couldn’t resist a big pile of money, either.

  “Lady Nox,” the Chief Nairb squawked. “Perhaps we should test the box for danger. These humans are as untrustworthy as they are ignorant.”

  Nox paused and looked at him. “Very well. You open it.”

  Shocked, the Nairb approached the box with great trepidation. At last, he opened the first one—and everyone gasped in amazement.

  The coins were in there all right, and they glittered like a thousand diamonds in firelight.

  “Assist me!” the Nairb ordered.

  Instantly, a flock of green humping seals approached. The cluster of Nairbs began nosing each coin and touching them with strange instruments.

  I stood there and beamed, proud as a peacock.

  “How’s this for service, sirs?” I asked the brass who were standing now and craning their necks to get a glimpse of a planet’s ransom. “When you send old McGill out to do a job,” I boasted, “it gets done.”

  “McGill,” Drusus said, speaking up for the first time, “I’m at a loss. You did this personally? The reports coming back from Dominus don’t contain any information about the coins. The expedition has been deemed an entire loss. Everyone on the ground—most of Legion Varus—was destroyed by the Tau-Rigellian alliance.”

  “Oh… is that so? That’s a damned shame… but at least we’re all rich, huh?”

  “Correction,” Governess Nox said. “We’re not all rich. These coins don’t belong to Earth. No human is even allowed to possess them. They’re being confiscated by the Empire. I’ll return them to Trantor personally for safekeeping.”

  I gawked at her. “All of them?”

  “Yes, of course. Galactic Law must be followed.”

  Right about then, the Nairbs started seal-barking at each other. They seemed agitated.

  “Lady Nox?” the Chief Inspector asked.

  “What is it now, Inspector?”

  “Ah… Governess, I have grim news to report. I’m afraid these coins aren’t genuine.”

  Nox turned on him. “What are you talking about?”

  The Nairb backed up a bit, then he braced himself and stood his ground. “Just as I said, Lady. They are counterfeit. False. Non-negotiable. They appear to be of Imperial make, but they’re not.”

  “Aw, come on now!” I interjected. “You can’t tell that just by sniffing at them.”

  “Of course not. Each Galactic credit piece—particularly those of high denominational value—is marked with a nano-stamp indicating its time and place of manufacture.”

  “So… the markings on these are wrong?” Nox asked.

  “No. They’re absent entirely. These coins are fake. They have no value.”

  Everyone started squawking again. The human officers, the Nairbs—everyone.

  Nobody was happy to learn the coins were fake. Even I put on a big show of shock and dismay. My chin sagged so low it hit my collarbone.

  Nox soon demanded that other crates be opened and inspected. This was done—but the story was the same. Every coin was counterfeit garbage.

  All the while I pretended to be astonished. “What is this? Who could be behind this chicanery?”

  This statement caught the attention of the lead Nairb. He’d never liked me, and today’s events hadn’t endeared me to his heart.

  “You humans did this. These false coins are made poorly with base metals—there’s not even a hint of radiation coming off them.”

  “So you’re really telling me these aren’t legit, genuine Galactic credits? That’s a damned shame. And to think we dumb-ass apes have been trading these around for years…”

  “That is a tremendous admission!” the Nairb Chief Inspector squawked. “Galactic credits aren’t legal currency for humans. An expungement is called for!”

  “Hold on,” I interrupted. “I understand your zeal, good Inspector, but I must point out that if these credits are fake, no crime has been committed. You just proved that. The only illegality was a case of fraud perpetrated upon our own citizens.”

  The Nairb squirmed. “Intent to commit an infraction can be judged tantamount to an actual infraction.”

  Nox snorted at this. It came out sounding like a nose-fart.

  “No, it can’t,” she said. “You are in error. There was no crime, therefore there can’t be a criminal or a case to prosecute.”

  “These are special circumstances,” the Nairb insisted. “A full investigation is warranted. We will find the crime to match this indignity.”

  “No, you won’t. Not on my budget—which was just slashed to the bone by this debacle.”

  Nox marched around in a circle. She was in an evil mood, and every human she came near backed away in concern.

  “This is typical. Absolutely typical. You humans are nothing but imbeciles. I should never have believed there was a fortune in real money out here in this forsaken dumpster of a province. I was the biggest fool of all to believe that fantasy.”

  No one spoke. We all figured it was a good time to not stand out in this crowd.

  After a full circuit of the table, Nox paused long enough to squirt some kind of vile liquid from her aft body parts onto the cases of gleaming coins. I didn’t even want to know what that substance was.

  “Chief Inspector, come. Attend me. We’re returning to the ship.”

  The Chief Nairb fumed, but at last he retreated and followed his sulking governess. They soon left the building and Earth entirely. Their dreams of riches had evaporated as quickly as they’d come.

  -61-

  All too often poor old McGill was blamed after disastrous events like these. Today might have gone in that direction, save for the kind words of Public Servant Alexander Turov.