He stopped his machine and frowned at me. “Centurion? I don’t think you’re supposed to be down here.”

  “I sure as hell am. Imperator Turov sent me.”

  He blinked a few times. “Well, she’s a few months too early then. This deck is shut down for now. They don’t tell me much, but they say it might not open again until we get back to Earth.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  He shrugged. “They don’t want to waste the power and supplies, I guess. We’re going to be flying for a long time, don’t you know.”

  I heaved a sigh. “Yeah… I guess I do know. All right, thanks.”

  Once I left him in peace, he switched his whirring, howling equipment back on. I walked back to elevator lobby, planning to return to the upper decks in defeat.

  The situation was bleak. I was seriously disappointed. Taking girls down to Lavender Deck for some R&R had long been one of my signature moves. With that vital source of entertainment closed off to me, this trip was going to feel twice as long and dull.

  Touching the elevator call-pads repeatedly, I frowned. It wasn’t opening. Someone was using the lifts—all of them.

  A full minute later, the doors still refused to open. “Aw, shit…” I said aloud.

  I was struck by a new worry. What if the elevator was programmed to let people come down without authorization—but not to return to the upper decks without approval? But then… how had Kivi left? Had some robot clock decided to shut down the lifts?

  Worried I was trapped on Lavender Deck until I got that janitor to let me out, I began banging a big fist on the doors and hollering. This did precisely jack-squat to fix the situation.

  Finally, however, after I spent a full minute howling at the doors like a wolf in heat—they suddenly swept open.

  Inside was a delegation. A crowd of crewmen gaped at me. They were wearing their finest whites, which meant they were dressed up like waiters at a royal wedding.

  What was even more surprising was the large amount of quality food they had with them. There were cartloads of meats and fine gravies on silver trays. Sparkling cut-crystal goblets were already filled with wine and lined up on yet more carts.

  “What the hell?” I asked.

  A portly, older man with a familiar face stepped forward. It was Captain Merton, the Fleet puke who commanded Dominus. “McGill? What are you doing down here?”

  “Uh…” I said, dumbfounded.

  “Never mind. Step aside, we’re in a hurry. Why don’t the Mogwa ever give us enough advanced warning to set things up properly?”

  I got out of the way, and the crewmen hurried down the passages. “The Mogwa?” I asked aloud, talking to nobody.

  Turning back to the elevators, I saw by the indicators they were all in motion. More doors were about to open—any second now.

  My mind is slow, but it was right about then that I figured out what was wrong with the elevators. They were all full of VIPs and service people. They were all coming down here at once for a banquet of some kind.

  Licking my lips and sniffing the finest of foods like a dog under a dining table, I was struck by an idea.

  I quickly stepped after Merton and his crew. I didn’t want to lose them in the dark, lifeless passages.

  -10-

  My reasoning, such as it was, went something like this: if I took the elevators back up topside, I’d be missing out on a banquet. Sure, I hadn’t been invited to said banquet, but a man like me rarely lets such details get in the way.

  If, on the other hand, I stood around like a dummy with my thumb in my butt and waited to ask permission from the load of brass that was doubtlessly coming down in those elevators right now, I might, just maybe, get an invite. The trouble with that safer approach was obvious: they might say no.

  So, to the mind of James McGill, there was only one reasonable solution in this situation. I’d follow Merton and his pack of Fleet waiters and pretend I belonged. It might not work—but it was worth a shot.

  As I snuck along the dark passages in the wake of humming power-carts, I considered contacting Kivi and inviting her to join me. That might work out—but then again, it might make a mess of a sweet deal. It was one thing to claim I should be at a banquet honoring Mogwa, but inviting a noncom date was definitely pushing it. Hell, Galina and her father might be among the guests. No, no, Kivi was just going to have to hear in the morning about how she’d missed out big-time.

  The crew with the food carts stopped at one of the best restaurants on Lavender Deck. It was called “the Blind Fish” and the place had an underwater grotto theme. The walls glimmered with blue diffused light when they powered up the dining room, and it looked pretty cool. There were gurgling tanks all around the tables, tanks filled with swimming drones that mimicked sea creatures.

  When the crew was busy setting up, I waited until I heard footsteps behind me. The guests were coming in. Walking calmly into the place, I stood at the “wait to be seated” sign and looked bored.

  Behind me, a gaggle of brass showed up. They looked at me funny, but the waiters were fooled. They noticed the crowd and ushered us in, suggesting we sit where we wanted, there was plenty of room.

  Choosing a small table very near the growing buffet, my mouth watered. My eyes were glowing almost as much as the fish tanks. Damn, I might have missed out on Kivi’s talents, but I sure wasn’t going to go hungry.

  “McGill?”

  Glancing up and turning my head, I did my best not to look startled or alarmed. I smiled and waved at Galina, who was frowning in my direction. She came walking toward me, her eyes as narrow as a pissed cat’s.

  “What are you doing here?” she demanded with her hands on her hips.

  My mouth opened, and I was about to give her some hornswoggle lie about being invited by Sateekas—but then I was struck by a flash of sheer genius.

  Lowering my voice and leaning toward her a bit, I spoke fateful words. “You should ask your father about that.”

  That sentence changed her mood instantly. She blinked, and she looked concerned. She glanced over her shoulder—her own staffers were hanging around. Gary was among them. He looked like a lost kid at the zoo. Once she looked his way, he began walking over to her.

  “Oh hell…” Galina said.

  For my part, I was all grins. I’d told Gary he might be coming along on this trip just to scare him—and then I’d forgotten all about it. The chances he’d be dragged into deep space with us legion types were low, to my way of thinking. Galina didn’t always take her ground staffers, but this time she’d given the order.

  I had to wonder if it was all chance, or Gary himself had acted on my idea. How had that happened? Had he brought the idea up to Galina, and then she’d agreed? Had he possibly decided I was right, that he did need field experience to rise in rank, and Galina had gone for it?

  The wherefores and the why-fors hardly mattered at this point. However it had happened, Gary had been brought along for this special ride to the stars. I found the situation funny.

  “Hey, Gary!” I boomed, standing up and offering him a hand to shake. “Glad you could get off your duff and make it out into space at last. This is a proud moment for you and yours, boy.”

  Galina looked furtive. Gary looked shell-shocked. I, however, was as happy as a clam.

  “So,” I said, “you must be playing secretary for the brass on this trip, huh? Have you had a chance to sit in on a high-level meeting yet? Take any good notes?”

  Galina cleared her throat. “Gary, I’ve reconsidered my plans for tonight. It looks like this is to be a social occasion, with little need for support personnel.”

  “What…? Oh… okay, sir. I’m sorry. I’ll head back to Gold Deck, then… if you won’t be needing me?”

  Galina nodded. “Thank you for understanding, and I’m sorry about the sudden change of plans.”

  He slunk away, and I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

  Something had finally impinged on my dull mind—I got the feeling Gary was doing more than taking notes for Galina on this trip. That thought wasn’t a happy one, but there it was.

  “Uh…” I said. “You wanted to talk in private, Galina?”

  She set her jaw. She seemed ruffled. “James, you mentioned my father.”

  “Yep.”

  “Have you been talking to him?”

  I held up two fingers wrapped around each other. “We’re like this.”

  She nodded and stared at the table. She looked kind of freaked out. “So you’re the agent in play tonight… I should have known.”

  “Uh… what?”

  She looked at me. “You don’t have to pretend around me—but you’re right, it’s probably best that you do. I’m going to move away from this table before we eat. I want you to forget we spoke tonight—during the aftermath, I mean.”

  “Uh…” I was dumbfounded, and it wasn’t even an act. Then I suddenly caught on and snapped my fingers. “Oh, you’re talking about if I kill the Mogwa, right?”

  “Shut up!” she hissed. “Your tapper might be recording you.”

  “Not mine. I hack it regularly.”

  “Maybe so… but under torment, you’re more likely to confess words you spoke aloud than thoughts you had. They stick better in a delirious mind.”

  I blinked a few times. “Torture?”

  Galina shrugged. “Whatever happens. I don’t want to think about it, or even hear about it afterwards. I’m sure you’ve got your contract with my father aligned and peer-reviewed by legal experts. Most do.”

  I was gaping again. I hadn’t done any such thing. I wasn’t getting paid or anything. I’d just thought that his assassination idea was a good one, in order to save Earth’s military, and so I’d agreed to do my part.

  But Galina was giving me some second thoughts.

  She kept on talking about something, but I wasn’t listening any longer. Looking around the room, I didn’t spot old Alexander. Most of the crowd was made up of suits from Hegemony and Fleet pukes. I only recognized a few of them.

  It just so happened that as my head was swiveling around, Galina was chattering and my good mood was deflating, another crowd showed up at the entrance.

  The honored guests had arrived. Governess Nox, Sateekas and Drusus all stepped into the dining room. Every conversation died at once.

  “The Galactics Nox and Sateekas have graced us with their presence,” Drusus said loudly. “All rise.”

  We stood up as one. Drusus led us in singing a song called Submission of the Glorious Collective. We’d all learned the tune as kids in school. It was catchy, but I’d never liked it much.

  The Mogwa looked around with disdain. Then Sateekas spotted me. He pointed me out to his wife, and they began wobbling in our direction.

  “Oh hell,” Galina said through clenched teeth. “I waited too long to get away from you.”

  “Don’t worry, Imperator. If the Mogwa sit with us, we’ll get the best service in the house.”

  We stayed standing while the aliens approached. Drusus was alarmed. He’d been standing at a distant table.

  He followed in the wake of the two aliens, waving his hands toward a variety of conveniently empty tables. The Mogwa ignored him.

  “McGill-creature,” Sateekas said. “I was told you wouldn’t be present at this event.”

  “Well, Grand Admiral sir, sometimes plans change.”

  Sateekas seated his mate like a human gentlemen. Had that behavior rubbed off on him, or had the Mogwa brought it to us long ago? I wasn’t sure.

  Drusus arrived at the table. He was left without a chair, as the table only had room for four seats. Galina stepped away from her chair. “Praetor, perhaps you’d like to take my place. I was just—”

  “Nonsense,” Sateekas interrupted. “I’m tired of Drusus. He’s dull and uninspiring company. Besides, Nox and I are mates. It’s only fitting that we dine with slaves in a similar relationship.”

  “Um…” Drusus said, uncertain as to what to do. At last, he sighed. He looked at me, and his eyes were pleading.

  I gave him a smile and a little reassuring wave in return. “Don’t you worry about a thing, Praetor, sir. Our guests will be well cared-for.”

  Swallowing and nodding, he slipped away to another table. From there, he watched us with frequent worried glances. Lots of the diners were doing that.

  Leaning back, I threw my big arm out to rest on Galina’s chair. “How’d you know we were… uh… involved, Sateekas?”

  Galina looked alarmed. Under any other set of circumstances, she would have hissed and clawed at me, but she didn’t dare. She only spoke one quiet word of warning: “McGill…?”

  “It is a gift of mine,” Sateekas boasted. “When I first met my Lady Nox, for example, I knew that no other male possessed her.”

  It was Nox’s turn to become embarrassed. “That is inappropriate talk. These beings are inferiors.”

  “You see?” Sateekas rumbled and farted as he laughed. “No one else would dare scale her walls.”

  Apparently, this was some kind of Mogwa idiom. I got the gist of it, and I chuckled politely. Galina wore a pasted-on smile.

  The Fleet waiters showed up then, saving an embarrassing situation. They began to dump food on us like there was no tomorrow. I accepted every morsel and chewed with gusto. Everything was delicious.

  When we came up for air, I found I was the first to finish. This wasn’t surprising, even given the fact that I’d eaten twice what anyone else had consumed.

  “Mm-mm,” I said. “That was some good eating.”

  “Yes,” Sateekas agreed, while bits of meat dripped from his feeding spikes. Watching a Mogwa eat was kind of a horror show, but I was used to the process. “I am sated,” he purred through his translator.

  Galina politely stood and bowed to the Mogwa. “I must excuse myself.”

  “Why?” Sateekas demanded. He was suddenly all business.

  “I… I must visit the facilities.”

  “You what? What facilities? Are we under attack?”

  “No, no, your lordship. I’m sorry if I’m being unclear. I must relieve myself.”

  Sateekas looked baffled, and Nox laid a hand on him. “She wants to eliminate wastes, Sateekas.”

  “What? Oh… why not do it in your uniform?”

  “Um…” Galina said, looking flustered. “Our formalwear isn’t equipped with mobile facilities.”

  “Why wear clothing at all, then? Such an odd species… Very well, be quick about it.”

  Galina stopped to lean down and kiss my cheek. That surprised me, and I almost turned to sneak one on her lips in return, when her hot breath sounded in my ear. “This is your chance, James. Don’t blow it.”

  Then, she scampered off. I turned back to the Mogwa and frowned.

  Was Galina right? Was this the moment of truth? Was I about to gun these two down?

  It would be easy. I had my pistol on my hip, and all I had to do was pull it out and aim it under the table while they smacked their mouthparts and chatted. They didn’t even have their bodyguard marines with them tonight. They’d left them outside the restaurant.

  They must be beginning to trust us humans—a grave mistake.

  -11-

  Reaching under the table, I loosened my gun in its holster. Then I took a long look around the dining room.

  Everyone seemed to be watching my table. They tossed glances my way often, and they spoke to one another in hushed tones.

  That didn’t mean they were onto me. Not necessarily. The Mogwa were our honored guests. Every human present had to be wondering about them.

  Turning my attention back to the Mogwa couple, I felt a pang. They looked happy. That was really saying something, because I’d hardly ever encountered any of the Mogwa when they were enjoying themselves. They were usually bitterly lamenting their fate about some imagined abuse and blaming others for it.

  Sateekas really wasn’t a bad sort. He’d had a rough time of it out on the frontier. Nox, on the other hand, was a cast-iron witch most of the time—but she seemed to have mellowed out somewhat as well. Maybe motherhood had agreed with her.

  That thought struck through the rest: where was the baby?

  Dropping my eyes, I watched her hands without seeming to. There—in her pouch. I caught movement. Just a squirm, a ripple under her hooked fingers.

  She had her kid in there again. Even tonight, while dining. Jeez…

  My hand slipped away from my gun, and I leaned forward. I told a rude joke about Galina, and it got them both laughing. The ghastly baby bounced inside Nox’s pouch.

  A moment later, Galina reappeared at my side. She had her hands on her hips.

  “What’s so funny?” she asked.

  Sateekas took it upon himself to answer. “McGill has shared some of your unique sex-noises with us, Imperator.”

  The Mogwa attempted to imitate a hooting owl, but he did it poorly. The two aliens went off into another gale of laughter.

  I snuck a glance at Galina’s face. She didn’t look like she was enjoying the joke all that much. As I watched, she moved her fine right hand from her hip down to the butt of her gun. Her teeth were showing.

  “Uh…” I said, trying to get her attention. “Maybe if you gave us a bit more time…”

  She glanced down at me. She smiled, but there wasn’t any humor in the expression. “You take all the time you want to, McGill.”

  Galina walked out then, straight out of the restaurant and into the dim-lit passages beyond.

  I frowned after her. Call me paranoid, but I could tell when that woman was up to no good. I stood up and excused myself, just as Galina had.

  Sateekas made more enthusiastic hooting sounds. He seemed to have mixed up our various bodily functions, but I didn’t bother to correct him. He and his girl were having too much fun.

  “Heh…” I said. “That’s right. Laugh it up, guys.”

  Stepping quickly to the doorway, I stood to one side near a row of fake fish tanks that glowed and bubbled with such a deep blue light it looked purple.

  Two men entered the dining room. They lifted their weapons—morph-rifles, set to assault mode. All over the restaurant, officers dove for cover and clawed out their weapons.