“A non-standard revival system…” she said, almost to herself. “That’s amazing by itself. It’s one thing to duplicate a technology—it’s quite another to recreate an effect without using a well-known methodology.”
“That’s right, girl!” I jumped in, cheering her on. “The Investigator’s turd-tanks are so cool—aren’t they Floramel? We humans are frigging geniuses!”
Natasha looked up at me, but I could tell she wasn’t listening. Her eyes had that far-away look. I had no idea what she was thinking about.
“I want you to take me out there, James,” she said suddenly. “To Dust World, I mean. I want to see the tanks for myself.”
“That might not be—” Floramel began, but I stood and waved for her to shut up.
“Sure thing, Natasha. If you could just help us out a little first though, huh?”
Eventually, I got Natasha settled down and working with us. We didn’t magically transform into some kind of well-oiled team, mind you. Floramel didn’t care if Natasha lived or died, and Raash kept making unhelpful comments. Still, I now had two of the finest minds available working on the problem of finding Green World. To my way of thinking, things were looking up.
As the work became increasingly technical, I soon got bored and fell asleep. The two women woke me up around five-thirty in the morning. I yawned and stretched, rubbing at a kink in my back. I’d been sleeping on some kind of metal lab stool, with my head on a chemical-stained table.
“We’ve found it,” Natasha said excitedly. “At least, we think we did.”
“That’s great, ladies. Where is it?”
The two women looked at one another. They looked haggard and their eyes were like two holes burned into blankets—but they were happy. They’d figured something out. Something big.
But I also knew they weren’t entirely happy with their findings.
That’s about when a big sharp claw poked me in the back. I turned to find Raash looming over me. His breath was foul—something like sardines mixed with garlic.
“You slept like a dead-thing,” he told me. “I could have slain you a dozen times over. The temptation was almost overwhelming.”
“I’m glad you managed to control yourself, Raash. You’re really pulling it together, man.”
I clapped him on the shoulder and walked over to see what the girls were excited about. Raash followed me, puffing his hot stinky breath onto my back. Sometimes, aliens didn’t get the whole thing about personal space.
“Let’s see what you’ve got. I can tell by the look on your faces, it’s good news!”
“I’m afraid not,” Floramel said. “Green World appears to be deep in a neighboring province.”
“You mean at the frontier?”
“No, in Province 928.”
“Uh… the one controlled by the Skay?”
The women nodded. “Exactly.”
“Hmm… that sucks. We can’t go out there without causing some kind of interstellar misunderstanding.”
“A violation of treaties,” Raash said. “A diplomatic crisis worthy of rekindling the war of succession between the Skay and the Mogwa. This is what you’re contemplating, McGill.”
I nodded as I looked over the charts. Raash was right. I was contemplating kick-starting a fresh interstellar war.
-23-
The team wrapped up all their data and gave it to me for delivery. None of them wanted to go upstairs with me, they were too chicken to present unpleasant facts to the brass.
I sent them to bed in the barracks, as they all looked bushed. Then I headed up the elevators to Turov’s office first. She wasn’t there, of course. She wouldn’t be in until around seven or so.
I had the codes to get into the offices, and I used them. This wasn’t any kind of violation as I was an officer in Legion Varus, and I was allowed into the headquarters at any time.
The couch inside looked pretty good. I’d spent more than a few hours napping on it, over the years. But just before I bedded down for an extra hour of shut-eye, I stopped myself.
“Hmm… this just isn’t a Turov-level crisis.”
Heaving a sigh, I realized I was right. Instead of waiting around for morning, I went back to the elevators. I rode up and up some more, gliding ever higher inside the massive building. When I got to damn near the top of the whole thing, I stopped for an early breakfast at the best cafeteria that was open. I considered a morning shower—there was plenty of time—but passed on the idea. I figured it would be better if I looked like I’d been working real hard on this, instead of having spent the night sawing wood and being stalked by a crazy lizard.
Drusus came to work shockingly early. He arrived via air-car, coming down his own private chimney from the roof. At about the same time, his staff arrived and took up their spots. They all must have had alerts set up warning them of his approach. That was smart. Never let the boss get to work before you do, my papa always said.
When the staffers filtered in to man their desks, they looked at me like I was a streak of shit.
“Can I help you, Centurion?” asked a particularly smarmy primus. He had ass-kisser written all over him, but that was reserved for his superiors. With a loser like me, it was all an act. I could tell he wanted me out of his waiting room and gone for good.
I could have told him that wasn’t going to happen, but I don’t like to deliver bad news unless I have to.
“I’ve got an appointment to see the praetor. I’m McGill—James McGill.”
“I know who you are…” the primus said in kind of a prissy, sing-song voice. I hated it right off the bat.
He swept his finger over his tapper, then scrolled up and
