still standing. Sazar, too shocked to remain at attention, turned just in time to look through terrified eyes at the gaping hole in his comrade, still smoldering around the edges. Valik’s muscles went limp, and the body slumped down quietly. Trembling, Sazar stared at the widening pool of blood and tried to take in what had happened. Instinctively, he snapped back to attention, fighting the rising urge to vomit and wondering why he was still alive.
Lokus took his time providing an explanation. He examined the pistol again, passed it from hand to hand, felt the heat of the barrel at the discharge point. Finally he looked up, his eyes narrow slits of light. “Trooper Sazar, I value loyalty and responsibility above all else, and Valik had neither. Since the primary mission had already failed, the stupidest possible course of action would have been to kill the remaining scientists—the only ones from whom we can learn their plans, the location of their temporal relocator, and the extent of their resistance. Whether or not you realized it at the time, you were quite right to stop Valik from shooting down the skimmer.”
Sazar considered whether to thank the Vice Governor for the backhanded compliment, but decided against it.
Lokus circled the desk and approached Sazar, extending the hand holding his pistol, the hand that had just murdered his comrade. “Your sidearm.”
Holstering the weapon, Sazar suddenly wondered how he would explain the pistol’s discharge to his Commander, as it would certainly show up in the logs. It would look like he killed Valik!
Lokus seemed to read his mind. “Do not be concerned about the fire logs, Trooper Sazar. I will, shall we say, review them on your behalf, perhaps transfer the discharge instance code to Trooper Valik’s own sidearm.” He reflected a moment. “Yes, yes, this unfortunate incident will be logged as ‘accidental discharge due to improper weapon maintenance.’ That absolves you of any wrongdoing and clears you of any implication in a fellow trooper’s death. You do concur with that assessment, do you not?”
Sazar numbly took in Lokus’s words. Lokus had just killed a man in cold blood, and was prepared to place the blame on Sazar’s head if he did not keep quiet about falsifying the logs. He had no choice. “Yes, sir,” he nodded.
“Excellent. Trooper Sazar, you are hereby promoted to Squad Leader. Assemble a new squad immediately, with troopers of your choice. You will locate and apprehend the remaining scientists, and bring them to me—alive. Understood?”
“Yes, Vice Governor.”
Lokus took a single step closer; Sazar could feel the dark eyes burning into him. “Do not think for one moment, Squad Leader Sazar, that this promotion in any way absolves you of bungling your original mission. Think of it more as a reprieve. If you succeed in capturing the surviving dissenters and their relocator, I will consider letting you live. If you fail again, I guarantee that your death will make Valik’s look like a hangnail. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, sir. Perfectly clear.”
“Good,” sneered Lokus. “Now get out of my sight. And send someone in to clean up this mess.”
“Yes, Vice Governor.” Sazar executed a shaky about-face and gratefully left the room, gingerly stepping over the bloody cylinder of gore and guts on his way out.
Six
Lokus walked around his desk and slid back the phone panel. In the absence of intelligent, voice-response dialers, he was accustomed to making manual calls, but still found it irritating. He pressed the button marked “Ministry of Science.”
Moments later the Western Region’s Science Minister’s face appeared as a floating hologram above Lokus’s desk. He turned away so his video unit could not transmit his image and identified himself verbally.
“Ah, good afternoon, Vice Governor. How are you?” Minister Rasel asked through an insincere half-smile. He was an unctuous little man, incredibly brilliant
Lokus took his time providing an explanation. He examined the pistol again, passed it from hand to hand, felt the heat of the barrel at the discharge point. Finally he looked up, his eyes narrow slits of light. “Trooper Sazar, I value loyalty and responsibility above all else, and Valik had neither. Since the primary mission had already failed, the stupidest possible course of action would have been to kill the remaining scientists—the only ones from whom we can learn their plans, the location of their temporal relocator, and the extent of their resistance. Whether or not you realized it at the time, you were quite right to stop Valik from shooting down the skimmer.”
Sazar considered whether to thank the Vice Governor for the backhanded compliment, but decided against it.
Lokus circled the desk and approached Sazar, extending the hand holding his pistol, the hand that had just murdered his comrade. “Your sidearm.”
Holstering the weapon, Sazar suddenly wondered how he would explain the pistol’s discharge to his Commander, as it would certainly show up in the logs. It would look like he killed Valik!
Lokus seemed to read his mind. “Do not be concerned about the fire logs, Trooper Sazar. I will, shall we say, review them on your behalf, perhaps transfer the discharge instance code to Trooper Valik’s own sidearm.” He reflected a moment. “Yes, yes, this unfortunate incident will be logged as ‘accidental discharge due to improper weapon maintenance.’ That absolves you of any wrongdoing and clears you of any implication in a fellow trooper’s death. You do concur with that assessment, do you not?”
Sazar numbly took in Lokus’s words. Lokus had just killed a man in cold blood, and was prepared to place the blame on Sazar’s head if he did not keep quiet about falsifying the logs. He had no choice. “Yes, sir,” he nodded.
“Excellent. Trooper Sazar, you are hereby promoted to Squad Leader. Assemble a new squad immediately, with troopers of your choice. You will locate and apprehend the remaining scientists, and bring them to me—alive. Understood?”
“Yes, Vice Governor.”
Lokus took a single step closer; Sazar could feel the dark eyes burning into him. “Do not think for one moment, Squad Leader Sazar, that this promotion in any way absolves you of bungling your original mission. Think of it more as a reprieve. If you succeed in capturing the surviving dissenters and their relocator, I will consider letting you live. If you fail again, I guarantee that your death will make Valik’s look like a hangnail. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, sir. Perfectly clear.”
“Good,” sneered Lokus. “Now get out of my sight. And send someone in to clean up this mess.”
“Yes, Vice Governor.” Sazar executed a shaky about-face and gratefully left the room, gingerly stepping over the bloody cylinder of gore and guts on his way out.
Six
Lokus walked around his desk and slid back the phone panel. In the absence of intelligent, voice-response dialers, he was accustomed to making manual calls, but still found it irritating. He pressed the button marked “Ministry of Science.”
Moments later the Western Region’s Science Minister’s face appeared as a floating hologram above Lokus’s desk. He turned away so his video unit could not transmit his image and identified himself verbally.
“Ah, good afternoon, Vice Governor. How are you?” Minister Rasel asked through an insincere half-smile. He was an unctuous little man, incredibly brilliant
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