“McGill!” Drusus said, standing and shaking my hand as we entered his cavernous office. He was beaming, and I returned the expression without a hint of my inner surprise.

  “Good morning to you, too, sir.”

  “Centurion,” he said, “I can’t tell you how wonderfully this campaign went. I’d almost lost hope when I was reviewing what Winslade came back with. He had data, he had samples, but he didn’t have the process. We would never have been able to duplicate the enemy armor manufacturing techniques without being able to study these Vulbites in the act of making the stuff.”

  “Glad to be of service, sir.”

  “Right, well—”

  Galina cleared her throat at that moment. Drusus glanced at her as if only just noticing her presence. That was saying something, as most men couldn’t take their eyes off her when she wore the get-up she’d painted on today.

  “Ah, Turov,” he said. “Do you need something signed, or…?”

  A frown flickered over her features, but she stamped that out quickly enough. If one of her underlings had made that suggestion, she’d pound them into dust. But she always knew which side of the bread had the butter on it. She forced a smile and shook her head.

  “Not at all, sir. I’m merely here to observe this well-deserved commendation. I’ve had my eye on this centurion for a long time, and I’m very pleased that my careful tutelage has resulted in real mission success today.”

  “I’ve heard that you’ve kept McGill close at hand,” Drusus said, giving her a meaningful glance, “and it’s probably a good thing you’re here today. Wurtenberger and I had a few discussions yesterday, and we’ve come to an agreement in regard to the leadership of Legion Varus.”

  Turov blinked rapidly and kept her smile firmly planted. “How so, sir?”

  “We were considering placing Winslade in command, as you might have known. But… we’ve changed our minds on that point. You both did well, but there’s no reason to shake up a team when they’re just starting to gel and get real work done.”

  Galina’s tongue slipped out to wet her lips. I knew she wanted to be an imperator again, and I also knew she wanted to scream at Drusus right now, or possibly physically attack him.

  But she did none of that. Instead, she straightened up and nodded. “Very well. I will take my leave then, sir.”

  Drusus nodded and she turned away stiffly. She walked off, and Drusus and I caught each other watching her go.

  “Ah… McGill. Back to the business of the day. I’ve got an offer for you, Centurion.”

  “Yes, sir?” I asked, truly having no idea what he was going to say next.

  “Yes. I’d like to make you a primus.”

  My jaw sagged low. I think my chin might have hit my collar. What’s more, it stayed there for several seconds.

  “Uh…” I said. “Are you sure about that, Praetor, sir?”

  He laughed. “You know, you’re not the only one who’s questioned the idea of pushing you up in the ranks. But I have to admit, James, you get things done. It’s never in a conventional manner, mind you—never—but still, things happen.”

  I nodded, feeling stunned. I couldn’t deny what he was saying, but I couldn’t own it, either. The rank of primus was a whole different beast than centurion. Sometimes a primus would go into the field personally, the way Graves did, but most of them were staffers. Brass in nice offices. The idea that I might actually fly a desk someday soon… I didn’t know what to make of it.

  “I can see you’re surprised,” Drusus said. He was getting out a few glasses and pouring drinks. “Let’s talk about it.”

  “I surely am… to think, I’ve made it all the way up to the rank of primus. That’s not a surprise, it’s a shock! Did you know I had plenty of legionnaires in Varus tell me I’d never make it to my second enlistment? Wow… Harris is going to have a conniption. He’ll have to salute me if I’m one step under the tribune up on Gold Deck.”

  “Hmm…” Drusus said, tapping his glass to mine. We both downed our drinks, but a slight frown played on his lips, and he didn’t meet my eye.

  “What is it, sir?”

  He sucked in a breath and studied his empty glass. “About Legion Varus… as part of this promotion, you’ll be reassigned.”

  My mouth fell open again. This time, my expression was one of horror. “Don’t tell me, sir… please don’t tell me you want me to become a hog. I’d rather lose the tip of my dick with this here pistol!”

  Drusus chuckled. “No, no. It’s not that bad. Why would we cage a tiger like you? No McGill, Wurtenberger, Winslade and I did some heavy talking, as I said…”

  I stopped listening. My radar was up and pinging away. Before, he’d said something about Wurtenberger. But now we were suddenly talking about a cabal, a trio of officers, only one of whom actually liked me.

  The scent of an ornery rodent was in my nostrils. Winslade and his new patron, Wurtenberger, were behind this change. I braced myself for the worst.

  “Give it to me straight, Praetor. What did Winslade come up with?”

  Drusus glanced at me, then looked down at his hands again. “The suggestion has been made that you’d do well in the combat arm of an off-world legion. There is, in fact, one operating as a garrison force on Storm World. They were originally under the command of Armel… but you know how that went. Since then, we’ve been trying to replace our officers at the post—”

  “Wait a second,” I said, holding up a hand and showing him the flat of my palm. “Are you saying you want me to play primus to a zoo legion?”

  “That’s an unfortunate term that we’re working hard to stamp out, McGill. Are you aware that most of Earth’s legions are now so-called ‘zoo legions’?”

  “I didn’t know that, and it makes me sick to hear it. Who’s the tribune?”

  “I’ve got good news there. Primus Fike has become the tribune, and he’s doing well.”

  My mind was whirling, and I felt a little sick. The idea of being sent to Storm World… years of service hundreds of lightyears from home… nothing but stinking Blood-Worlders to tend to… and I bet there weren’t six real human women on the whole damned planet. The icing on that nasty cake was answering to Fike and his shitty attitude.

  Drusus was still talking, but I only caught snatches of it. He went on and on about how I’d worked with Fike before, and how it would be great experience, and it wasn’t going to be forever. He also mentioned how I’d hit it off so well with the native scuppers on my first tour out there.

  At last, I raised my hands. “Sir, I really appreciate this. I sincerely do. But I just don’t think that kind of post is right for me. I couldn’t take it, sir. It would be like putting me in prison.”

  Drusus looked at me sourly. He wore an expression of mixed annoyance and guilt.

  “James,” he said quietly. “I know it doesn’t seem fair.”

  “Sir, it’s worse than that. You realize Armel quit and went AWOL over this exact assignment, right? He’s now running a mercenary outfit full of Saurians. Did you know that?”

  He nodded. “I did. Armel failed us. I think you can do better. But more importantly, James—this isn’t exactly an offer. It’s an order.”

  “An order?”

  “Yes. Earth needs her best sons today—today more than ever. No one wants to serve out at some garrison on a sunless world. I get that. But someone has to do it, and you’ve proven yourself ready for a command on the frontier.”

  I sighed, and I stared him in the eye as I stood up. A moment later, he stood up as well.

  “Sir,” I said. “I regret to inform you that I’m resigning my commission, effective immediately. As my unit has been deactivated, this shouldn’t cause you or Varus much trouble.”

  As I said these words, I stripped off my centurion insignia and placed them on his desktop.

  It was Drusus’ turn to look stunned. “McGill…”

  I put up a hand. “I’m sorry, sir. I just can’t do it. I can’t be a sub-primus. If Varus doesn’t need me… well sir, I’m done with the military.”

  Slowly, I turned around and headed for the exit.

  “Halt, soldier!” Drusus said sternly. “You haven’t been dismissed.”

  I turned back around and stood at attention. He approached, hands clasped behind his back, and he paced his broad carpets in front of me.

  “You’ve put me in quite a position with this ultimatum, McGill,” he said.

  “My apologies, sir.”

  “Are you serious? This is no bluff? You won’t take this promotion and serve Earth where she needs you most?”

  My mouth worked for a second. I thought of all sorts of bad words to say, but I kept that stuff from coming out—barely. “Listen, sir. This isn’t a promotion. With all due respect, it’s a spite-filled slap in the face.”

  “From me?”

  “No, sir. From Winslade and his newfound patron, Wurtenberger.”

  Drusus didn’t answer that one. He glared fiercely at the carpet between us. A few quiet seconds passed. I got the feeling he was thinking hard. “James McGill, I’m demoting you back down to centurion. You’ll stay at Varus. If anyone asks about this, we never had this conversation.”

  I almost staggered, such was the impact of those words. My whole identity was wrapped up in Varus. I couldn’t imagine fighting and dying with anyone else—much less retiring entirely. I was gladder than I’d expected to be to know I was reinstated.

  Drusus threw something at me then. I caught two shiny objects out of the air.

  In my palm were my centurion’s insignia. I quickly put them back on again and hustled out of the office before he could change his mind.

  -65-

  That night, I went home to my shack in Waycross and got drunk. I felt like I’d dodged a bullet—but no, it was better than that. A bullet could only kill you once, it couldn’t imprison you on a planet for years of misery.

  Along about midnight, I heard a tapping at my door. I’d been dozing, and came awake with a snort.

  Giving my head a shake, I got up from my couch and padded to the door. Somehow, I’d lost my shoes.

  In my mind, I expected to see Galina when I opened that door. After all, we’d been having some nice get-togethers lately. I kind of suspected she’d known about Drusus and his plan to promote my ass off Earth, and I was therefore feeling angry toward her.

  Throwing open the door, flinging it wide, I stood tall. My shack was dark inside, almost as dark as it was outside, and I probably cut a scary-looking figure framed in that doorway.

  The small figure on my doorstep cringed a little. My mouth opened to begin shouting, to start demanding to know if she’d been in on the ambush I’d just suffered up at Central—but then I stopped.

  It wasn’t Galina. Female, yes. Trim and fairly young, yes. But this girl didn’t have the same distinctive shape. I could only see her silhouette, mind you, with the moonlight shining in her hair from behind, but that was enough.

  Reaching out, I flicked on the porch light.

  “Abigail?” I asked, completely flummoxed. “What are you doing here?”

  “Striking out, apparently,” she said, and she turned around to leave.

  “Wait… hold on. I was expecting someone else.”

  “Obviously.”

  “Someone else who kind of pissed me off today.”

  She turned back slowly and grabbed onto a post on my creaky porch. “Are you glad to see me then?”

  “Uh… yeah, sure!”

  “You thought I was Leeza, didn’t you?”

  Reaching up a hand, I scratched my head. Then I recalled that she and Leeza had come to blows not that long ago. The truth was I hadn’t seen much of her for weeks.

  “That’s right,” I lied. “She’s got me angry.”

  Abigail leaned away from her post, but she didn’t let go of it. “That’s good,” she said. “I hate that woman.”

  “Understandable. Come on in.”

  After a few more moments of hesitation, she followed me inside. I got her a beer that was still sealed from the stack of cans on the coffee table.

  “You’ve been drinking?”

  “A little.”

  We didn’t say much for a time, sipping our beers. At last, Abigail broke the ice. I was glad she did, as I was running out of ways to keep things from going sideways.

  “Look, you failed to keep up your part of our bargain,” she said.

  “Huh? How’s that?”

  “You remember that I told you about Glass World? That I led you to it? That you were just lauded as a hero because of this?”

  “Oh… yeah, sure. You wanted access to Earth’s markets—but I’m not in control of that part of the deal.”

  “Exactly. So, I’m not blaming you for Drusus and his denial of my petition.”

  “That’s a real relief to me,” I said, faking concern.

  She looked at me quizzically. “Sometimes,” she said, “you’re so reflexively full of shit, I can’t tell the difference. Can you?”

  “Uh… usually I can.”

  Abigail laughed. “All right then. The good news is we’re officially allowed to make contracts with Earth again—despite Drusus.”

  “How’s that?”

  She shrugged. “My brothers and I… we’re tenacious people. We tend to work hard to get what we want. We play every angle. In this case, I had another deal going, just like yours. That one has now paid off, so I got the contracts signed.”

  I stared at her for a few moments. “Another deal? You don’t mean with Winslade and Wurtenberger, do you?”

  She blinked in surprise. “You knew about that? It was a secret—but yes, that team managed to get the deal done.”

  “A team, huh? I had a connection to Drusus, so we were a ‘team’ too? Is that what I’m hearing?”

  “That’s right. You’re not upset about that, are you?”

  “No,” I lied. “You guys sure are six kinds of tricky, but I don’t care one whit.”

  “Good. Now, let’s get down to why I’ve come here tonight.”

  She stood up and began pulling her shirt over her head. This took me by total surprise.

  “Whoa, whoa girl! What the heck is this?”

  She stopped with her bra showing. Her tight belly was shiny in the evening light.

  “We had a deal, didn’t we?” she asked. “You upheld your end of the bargain, so I’m upholding mine.”

  “Uh…”

  She went back to stripping, and I sat there dumbfounded. This girl was a strange one. She’d grown up off-world, as far as I knew, surrounded by her brothers. She didn’t seem to get how to behave in any kind of a romantic fashion.

  “Why exactly are you doing this?” I asked her. “I mean… I didn’t even get you into Hegemony. Winslade did.”

  “Yes, but I never flirted with him. I don’t even like him.”

  “Can’t say that I blame you there.”

  “You tried to complete our contract. You acted in good faith. I can’t withhold payment on this kind of deal in that situation.”

  “Payment…?”

  “Yes,” she said, standing before me in her panties. I had to admit, my eyes were roving, so I might have missed whatever explanatory expression was on her face. I was barely able to hear her words at all.

  “You tried, Drusus screwed it up, so I’m paying up.”

  “But wait… I didn’t explicitly demand… this.”

  “Come on, McGill,” she laughed. “I flirted with you to gain your cooperation. I did it for months. Flirting is a promise of future sexual access. Therefore, I made a promise—and we Clavers always keep our promises. You can have me tonight.”

  “Uh…” I said, staring at her. I was feeling discombobulated. “So… you aren’t really interested in me? All this time it’s been a pretense to make some money?”

  “Not some money,” she said, methodically baring her breasts. It didn’t look like she was stripping down in a sultry way, it was more like she was getting into the shower after a long run. “We’re talking about billions, McGill, maybe trillions of credits. That’s why Wurtenberger got off his butt and pushed for this. He can be motivated by money—but not Drusus. When we offered cash on the side, he balked.”

  I thought that made sense. Drusus was a straight arrow. Offering him bribes wasn’t the way to get past him.

  Giving myself a shake, I stood up. Abigail was plenty cute and all, but she wasn’t going about this the right way.

  “Abigail… look, I don’t want to be rude or anything, but maybe you should put your clothes back on and leave.”

  “What?” she asked in honest surprise. “You don’t find me attractive?”

  “Oh no, you’re cute and all… but you’re kind of freaking me out.”

  “I can’t believe it…” she said, looking crestfallen. She pulled her pants back on and stared at me. “What did I do wrong?”

  There. Those were the first honest, hurt words I’d heard out of her. “I don’t know… I guess you took the wind out of my sails, girl. I don’t want some kind of second-class pity payment. That’s not how I do things. When a lady comes to my place, it’s because she wants to be here. Not because we’re executing some clause in a contract.”

  Abigail gathered her things. Half-dressed, she marched outside without even looking at me. I could tell her feelings were hurt, but the situation just didn’t feel right. I’d had women sleep with me because they’d been paid to do so before, and I’d never liked that sort of thing.

  When the door closed behind her, I sighed and popped open a fresh beer. The night wasn’t all that hot, but it was humid. One of those late spring nights in southern Georgia.

  I turned on a game and began to watch, but not one minute later, there was a tapping at the door again. This time, the tapping seemed muted.

  Throwing it wide again, I saw Abigail standing there. She looked like she was about to cry or something. She also looked a bit angry.

  “Look,” she said. “I did it wrong. I don’t do this well—I don’t really know how to… to interest men. You’re not the first who’s been intimidated by me.”

  “Intimidated?” I laughed. “I was disappointed, not intimidated.”