“You’re right about that, and you’re just the man to fix it, too. Get on out of your office, hog! I shrank down that big ass of yours for you, don’t let it grow back! Investigate that apartment on foot. Tell me why Raash was befriending Floramel in his own weird way. Tell me why she made him a small translator—and lastly, tell me why he killed her the night I showed up to visit an old girlfriend.”

  I could tell the hog had no idea what to think. He sighed and pushed back from his desk, shaking his head.

  “I don’t know what to do with you. We’ll set a hearing date, and I’ll forward every charge I can dream up to the prosecutors—but do you know what they’ll say?”

  “What?”

  “That we’ve got one live human, and two dead aliens. The live human has a story, and he was once decorated with the Dawn Star for defending Earth. On the other hand, the dead aliens aren’t telling us anything.”

  I nodded. “Sounds like a pretty good summary to me. But I’m sure Floramel will catch a revive any hour. She’ll be able to corroborate my story.”

  Veteran Blaine shook his head. “I’ve been checking. She’s not on any revive list according to the data core. Maybe she’s not as important as you thought. Tough break.”

  He didn’t look like he thought it was a tough break. He hated me—at least mildly—and anything that might make me unhappy was probably turning him on.

  Annoyed, I got out of there as fast as I could. I didn’t leave Central, however. I headed up to Turov’s office instead.

  She wasn’t all that happy to see me.

  “What do you want, McGill?” she growled.

  “Uh… about yesterday.”

  “No,” she said firmly.

  “No, what?”

  “No, we’re not going to pick up where we left off. That moment has gone—probably forever.”

  “Oh… that. No, sir. That isn’t what I was talking about.”

  I quickly filled her in on my evening activities from yesterday. Naturally, I again left out any part concerning Evelyn Thompson and the book she’d given me. By the end of the tale, Galina was slowly shaking her head.

  “Unbelievable,” she said. “You’re a goat of a man.”

  “What?”

  “I didn’t satisfy you, so you ran off to find some alien chick a few hours later.”

  “Uh…” I said. I hadn’t thought about the story from her point of view. “Do you mean that if I’d come over to your place instead…?”

  She made a rude noise with pursed lips. “As if! I said the mood was gone, and I meant it!”

  “Okay… Can you help me out, though?”

  “How?”

  “By putting in a revival order for Floramel. She’s an employee here at Central. She deserves another life.”

  Turov shrugged. “Not on my budget, she doesn’t. Get the science people to pay for it.”

  “That’s petty, sir. Real low.”

  She looked at me speculatively. “Are you willing to offer something in return?”

  “Like what?”

  “Loyalty? Information?”

  I sighed. Things always went this way with Galina. I’d played the spy for her on any number of occasions.

  “I can’t spy on Drusus. Not now. He’s gone, and we’re shipping out soon.”

  “Not exactly. He hasn’t left yet. He plans to have a meeting of all the Varus officers in two days’ time. As you’re an officer, you’ll be attending. Still, however… you’re right about one thing. Your usefulness has been substantially reduced due to the recent changes.”

  “Come on, Galina. I killed a man for you just yesterday.”

  “You did that out of reflex,” she said. “But still… the gesture was appreciated. I felt like killing those men myself for barging in. I still do. So… I’ll consider the revival order. In the meantime, I’ve come up with a suitable new post for you.”

  There was a twinkle of amusement in her eye—and with Turov, that wasn’t a good thing.

  “What duty? Oh…” I said, remembering. “You mean the Mustering Hall job, right?”

  “The orders came through already? Good. You’re going back to your roots, McGill. You’re going to serve Legion Varus as a recruiter. We’ve got a large number of gaps in our legion’s roster—I can’t imagine why.”

  I knew why, of course. The news was out worldwide about Varus. When I’d joined up, not many people had ever heard of the outfit. But that had changed over the years. We were now famous—or rather, infamous. Many screw-ups, bloodbaths and long, difficult assignments had been attributed to our name by the press.

  Over time, we’d become the butt of jokes and exciting stories on the interplanetary grid. People liked to follow our exploits—but not all that many were volunteering for an organization so often referred to in public as a “meat-grinder” legion.

  I tried to talk my way out of it, but Turov remained firm. The very next day, she sent me to sit on a worn-out, steel-legged stool in the Mustering Hall of Newark.

  The job was dull and somewhat humiliating. Often, candidates came down the escalator to the booths huddling around the sky-train station and gawked at us. Sometimes, they even approached and asked us funny things.

  “Hey, Varus,” a snot-nosed high school grad said on the first gray afternoon.

  “What, kid?” I called out, trying to sound cheery. “You want to sign up?”

  His name was Cooper. I knew that much from the recognition system built into my booth. He hadn’t cleared all the tests upstairs yet—I could see that too. But it didn’t hurt to make an early play for candidates—not if you were Legion Varus.

  “Sure thing, old man,” Cooper said, even though by appearance I looked no more than five years older than he was. “As soon as I finish the last tests, I’ll put my thumb down on your tablet. But first, I need you to answer one question honestly.”

  “Okay. Shoot.”

  “How many times have you died, sir?”

  I blinked. Cooper had me there. I didn’t even know. A hundred? Two hundred? I really wasn’t sure. I’d given up counting years back.

  “Three,” I said firmly, lying with a smile and an honest-John stare. “I’ve died exactly three times. That sounds bad, I know but—”

  “You fucking liar!” the kid said, braying with laughter and shaking his head. “No one gets into the officer ranks in Varus with only three deaths. More like thirty—or a hundred and thirty.”

  Cooper walked off, and I had half a mind to go after him and send him through a revival machine for a first-hand experience.

  “Losing our touch, are we, McGill?” a snotty voice spoke from behind me.

  I spun around on my stool to see Winslade. His arms were crossed, and his eyes were hooded.

  My face split into a grin. “Ha! So you’re the one pulling the evening shift? She got you too! Shit-duty for her two favorite officers!”

  “That’s right, laugh it up. I must say, however, I’m equally surprised to find the great McGill here. Aren’t you the tribune’s latest sex-toy?”

  “Well…” I said, hanging my head. “I didn’t play that so well.”

  “Right… From what I heard, you couldn’t stay faithful to your new paramour for twenty-four hours.”

  “It wasn’t like we exchanged rings or anything.”

  Winslade released a dirty chuckle. “The mere concept is amusing.”

  “What about you? Your gambit failed to jail her. Why are you still breathing at all?”

  Winslade shrugged. “You must think on a less visceral level. Turov has just suffered a stunning defeat. Yes, she’s angry and vengeful—but, she hasn’t lost her mind to emotion. Not completely. If I do manage to press my case against her, further demotions or other direct punishments will strengthen all my claims of harassment.”

  I nodded thoughtfully. “Right… So, she sent us here to this salt-mine instead of dropping us into a ditch because it would look bad?”

  “Correct. This is the worst thing she could do to both of us without it being obvious. This way, she’s leaning on us without seeming to.”

  The more I thought about it, the more I realized he was right. I was hating it down here, and so was Winslade. The woman was diabolical.

  A dull hour passed.

  My mind cast back to that distant day, when I’d first come to the Mustering Hall to find a home among the legions.

  At that point, Veteran Harris had been sitting in the very same booth I was haunting now. Had he been placed there as a punishment, too? It seemed possible—maybe even likely. I made a mental note to ask him about it someday when he was in a good mood.

  Another hour past, and we actually managed to sign a few people. They were universally desperate and clueless. I almost felt bad, knowing firsthand what they were in for during our no-mercy training sessions.

  At about four pm, when I was just starting to daydream again, a familiar face appeared at the top of the elevator. It was Centurion Evelyn Thompson.

  She approached the booth and looked at me furtively.

  We’d shared a lot of moments. Most recently, she’d given me the book I had in my pack right now. But before that, we’d been lovers, murderers—and I still liked to think—friends.

  “James?” she said, stepping up to the counter and eyeing me with uncharacteristic shyness. “When do you get off?”

  “My shift ends at five-thirty,” I said. “Winslade’s going late tonight.”

  “Would you like to have dinner with me?”

  “Oh… My… Gawd…” Winslade said in disgust, sitting at my side with his arms crossed.

  We glanced at him, then ignored him. He figured this was some kind of dating ritual—but I knew she wanted to talk seriously. She probably wanted to know what I’d found out about the book.

  Sucking in a deep breath, I made a show of considering her offer.

  “Well…” I began.

  She instantly grew angry. “Has Turov bought you off, then? With this crappy recruiting post?”

  That stung, but I didn’t let it show.

  Winslade, for his part, was looking less disgusted and more interested in the interplay. Other people’s pain was sweet wine to him.

  “All right, all right,” I said. “I’ll see you at five-thirty.”

  The final hour crawled by. Winslade made numerous snide jokes—but I didn’t punch him. I thought about it often, mind you, but I controlled myself, and I was proud of that.

  Evelyn met with me at the Overlook Café. That was a relatively swanky place inside the Mustering Hall. As an enlisted man, I’d never been able to afford it. Now, times had changed.

  As one might imagine from the name of the place, it was located in a balcony that overlooked the main floor. Down below us, the Hall still echoed with shouts and the general buzz of a thousand merged voices. In a few hours from now, everything would shut down. There’d be nothing but the roar of cleaning drones as the recruits filtered back into the city.

  “You’ve still got the book?” Evelyn asked me quietly after our small talk died down.

  “Yeah. I’ve got it.”

  After the incident at Floramel’s place, I’d been allowed to collect my personal effects, and I’d claimed the book. That had been easy to do, as it had my DNA on it.

  I noticed Evelyn was giving me the stink-eye for some reason.

  “What?” I asked.

  “When I heard there was some kind of a mass-murder due to a love-triangle, with you in the middle of it—”

  “That’s not how it went,” I protested.

  She raised a small hand to stop me. “Okay. It doesn’t matter. You’ve got the book—and I want it back.”

  I reached down under the table to draw it out of my pack—but I stopped. I considered my options. With a shrug, I slid my hand back up onto the tabletop again.

  I took a bite of my pastrami sandwich. It was good.

  “I don’t have it on me,” I lied.

  “Where is it?” she asked, suddenly intense.

  I shrugged again.

  “Come on, James! It’s just a book. I gave it to you—it’s mine!”

  “I found it long before you even knew it existed,” I pointed out.

  “You didn’t leave it in Floramel’s apartment, did you?”

  “I did actually, when I died. But I picked it up early this morning.” That was the truth, but she still looked suspicious.

  Evelyn flopped back in her chair and crossed her arms.

  “What do you want for it?” she said in a resigned voice.

  “Revive Floramel. I want to see her breathing again.”

  “That will happen—eventually. It’s up to Central Admin. She’s not part of any legion, you know.”

  “I know that,” I said. “No one wants to pay for it—but you should want to. She read the book. She knows things about it. She took notes, had ideas…”

  She leaned forward again with hungry eyes. “Tell me what she said.”

  Again, I chewed my sandwich and stared at her blankly. My jaws moved with exaggerated slowness.

  Evelyn set her own jaw and finally, her small head gave me a tiny, tight nod.

  “All right. Fine, I get it. I’ll get your girlfriend revived—but you’d damned-well better hand over that book after I do!”

  She stormed out then, leaving me at the Overlook Café. As I was stuck with the bill, and she hadn’t touched her food, I snaked out a long arm and scooped up her dinner. After polishing off both plates, I felt better.

  Two plates—that was my standard for a full meal.

  Thinking about the book in my bag, I decided it would be for the best if I stashed it somewhere down around my home. Swamps had always been used to hide any number of sins, and my backyard seemed like just the right place to keep something people wanted so badly.

  Sauntering down to the testing arenas, I watched a few young punks who were fighting robots with cattle-goads. It wasn’t pretty. Some of them ended up in the sawdust, curled into fetal balls. They were squirming, gasping and puking. Not one of them thought to zap the robot’s power cord. They probably didn’t belong in Legion Varus.

  Then I caught sight of the snot-nosed kid who’d come downstairs to crap on my parade. Cooper was in the psych booths, trying to answer the test questions.

  He was frowning fiercely, and I could tell he really wanted to do well.

  “Hey! Hey kid!” I called out to him.

  Cooper’s head jerked up, and I grinned at him.

  “Relax,” I told him. “Don’t worry about that bullshit test. Don’t overthink it. Just be yourself.”

  He blinked at me, but then he nodded and turned back to his test.

  A stern hog officer was already frowning at me. She suspected I was helping him cheat—but that was far, far from the truth.

  Those tests did a pretty good job of figuring out who a man really was inside. I felt sure that if this cocky punk answered honestly, the psychs would figure out the cold truth: Cooper was a complete and utter asshole.

  Smiling with that thought, I left the Hall for the night. I felt confident I’d helped at least one kid end up where he really belonged.

  Call it my good deed for the day.

  -7-

  Drusus called all the Varus officers together the next morning. It was early, six a.m., and I had a full day ahead of me in the recruiting booth at the Hall. Bleary-eyed, I tried to pay attention.

  “Today, I’ve called you all here because a new challenge faces Earth.”

  I crossed my arms and stifled a yawn. I’d heard this before.

  “This time, however, we’re not planning a defense, and the Mogwa don’t appear to be involved. Instead, we’re going to project the growing power of Earth into the disputed region.”

  Drusus made a spinning motion with his arm, and the wall behind him lit up. The smart-walls were always watching us these days.

  Stars glittered, laid out in a familiar pattern. I quickly got my bearings—which was made easier by a labeling system that placed various symbols and strips of text on the various star systems.

  “Here’s Earth,” he said, “in the Solar System.”

  He indicated a yellow-white dwarf star in the right quadrant of the long, rectangular display.

  “Farther out in that direction,” he said, using a gesture to place a pulsing arrow on the wall, “lies the center of the Galaxy—and the Galactics. To the left of this display is the frontier. As you can see, we’re less than a hundred lightyears from the edge of the Empire.”

  I felt like a kid in school. If he was going to keep on lecturing on basic star maps, I’d soon nod off. I knew myself—it was inevitable.

  “When the Cephalopod Kingdom fell,” he continued, “it theoretically left a vast swath of space under our control—but they didn’t hand it over cleanly. We’ve managed to exert control over only nine stars.”

  These lit up promptly. The computer was listening and responding to his words.

  “So few, really… Zeta Herculis, Gamma Pavonis—a smattering of others. Most recently, we took Epsilon Leporis.”

  A red star lit up deep in the disputed territory. It was well known to me, and its primary planet was better known as Blood World.

  “So, here you have it. We’ve got our Home World and a few other colonies. We control a planet with vast mineral wealth, another planet with a large population of trained ground troops. What, you might ask, could be missing? Aren’t we ready to bring order to the rest of these three hundred-odd inhabited systems?”

  A large lit-up section appeared. It extended from near Earth all the way over to the Rigel region, which was beyond the frontier. We were only starting to learn of the barbaric societies that lived out there beyond the fringe.

  He looked at us for a long moment as if expecting an answer. I felt compelled to speak.

  “We need starships!” I shouted out, cupping my hands over my mouth to make a megaphone.

  Drusus smiled momentarily and nodded to me. “Centurion—ah, Adjunct McGill?” He frowned, noting my new rank insignia. He cleared his throat after a glance at Turov, who said nothing.

  After a moment, he continued.

  “In any case, McGill is quite right. We need starships. We need an industrial base in the middle of the region. Here on Earth we’ve managed to construct a few space docks, surely. But what if we could do better than that? What if we gained control of a planet with a greater industrial capacity?”