Leviathan: Book 8 of the Legacy Fleet Series Read online

  Everyone in the line wore standard light-blue prison uniforms. A handful of Findiri soldiers guarded the line, their energy assault rifles at the ready, but they didn’t appear to need them, as the line of prisoners appeared quite docile. They stared ahead, blank-eyed and expressionless, as if they’d been drugged.

  “Oh my god,” Granger murmured.

  Talus had paused for several moments to let Granger respond, or at least make a show of it for the population of Earth watching the broadcast. “But since you’re a coward, it appears I need to give you some inspiration to come face justice. Like I said, we are a nation of laws. The people you all see here,” he indicated the long line of prisoners, “are criminals. They have broken our laws. Until now, we as a society have been too lenient, too soft, which results in even more law-breaking. When the criminal mind sees that he can break our laws with impunity and receive only a slap on the wrist, he is encouraged to break more laws—to become a law unto himself. Just like our beloved hero, the traitor Tim Granger. No more. It is time we treat our criminals like criminals.” He turned and nodded at the Findiri soldier at the front of the line.

  The soldier marched behind the queue, positioning himself behind the first five men or so, who all stared straight ahead, almost unaware of what was happening.

  “Every minute, this line will advance forward by one man.”

  He motioned to the soldier, who lowered his energy weapon and aimed at the first man’s head. A second later, it exploded, and the body dropped. The face of the second man was splattered with blood, but he, too, remained expressionless. The soldier took a step to his right, and leveled the weapon at the head of the second man.

  “Every minute, Tim. Every minute that you do not turn yourself in, others will die.” Talus smiled broadly. “I find it very poetic. Do you not? You lived your life shielding yourself from danger and responsibility with the lives of the innocent. Used them like human shields. And now, at the end of your life, you will be brought to justice using the lives not of the innocent, but of the guilty. The symmetry is beautiful, is it not?”

  He motioned to the soldier again, and another burst from the energy weapon shattered the second man’s head. The wet sound of the body folding onto the ground was almost as sickening. The soldier moved to the third man.

  This one watched the body next to him, and Granger could see his eyes slightly widen. Whatever drug they were using to subdue these people wasn’t working perfectly on this one, and the man’s eyes started to dart back and forth. He trembled.

  “And Tim, in case I can’t tug at your conscience using the lives of the guilty, just know that eventually I will run out of prisoners from the East Coast Correctional Institute. And when that happens, there is a nearly limitless supply of your co-conspirators living on this planet that can keep this line moving. And their children. And their neighbors. And their friends. This line will not stop moving until you are standing here with me in front of this camera to confess your crimes.” He motioned to the soldier.

  The third man was trembling violently now, his face contorted with fear. He took a few steps forward, apparently having decided to make a break for it.

  His body, too, fell limp against the pavement, a pool of blood spreading from the gaping hole in his face.

  “We’ve got to do something,” said Granger. “Anything. Qwerty, what have we got? Are there any ships in orbit with captains we can trust?”

  Qwerty shrugged. “I don’t even know where to begin, sir. They don’t exactly keep a list of which officers are on our side or not . . .”

  “We can activate the Vestige veteran corps,” said Jasper.

  “What the hell is that?”

  “You’ve seen them in action before, Dad. Remember Arlington National Cemetery? Over a dozen of them gave their lives so we could escape. We’ve got a whole fleet—”

  He was about to protest the use of the word dad, until he heard what became of those twelve men. “How many are there?”

  “People? As many as there are Grangerites. That’s essentially what the Grangerites are. They’re united in their dedication to your memory, and to your ideals of service. And now that you’re back, you essentially have a million-man army, if you want it.”

  “I don’t,” he said, flatly.

  “And who knows how many ships. From small freighters and corvettes, to salvaged gunships and missile frigates. Maybe even a few IDF starships where they have enough influence in the crew. A fleet of a hundred, maybe more—”

  “No. I’m not going to put myself at the head of a loony bin.”

  Jasper studied his hands. “Were those twelve men at Arlington loonies too?”

  He had no answer for that.

  The camera had continued broadcasting, though Talus had withdrawn. On the screen, in his place, had appeared a timer counting down from sixty seconds, and when it hit zero, another body fell to the ground. There was now a line of five corpses on the ground, with hundreds of men and a few women lined up behind them.

  The Findiri soldier moved on to the next.

  “Get us out of here,” said Granger. There was nothing they could do right now. They were powerless.

  Part of him desperately wanted to remember her. To rush off to the Skiohra ship Benevolence and retrieve his memories in that sphere.

  But that wouldn’t help them against the Findiri. Only one thing could do that.

  “Where to?” said Jasper.

  “Mr. Qwerty? Have you had any luck with either of those manuscripts?”

  “Some, sir. But what will really help is getting the final two. The Eru’s, and the Trits’.”

  Granger nodded. “Then get us to Chantana Three.”

  “You got it, Dad,” said Jasper, punching commands into the dashboard.

  He let the dad comment slide again. It wasn’t the time to be protesting that particular issue. “And hurry, kid. Every minute we waste . . .”

  He didn’t need to finish.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Sol Sector

  Earth, New York City

  United Earth Executive Offices Tower

  The new mystery of the secret death of Abraham Haws consumed Danny’s thoughts for the entire trip back to President Cooper’s office.

  Finally, nearly about to land at the executive office tower’s landing pad, he broke his silence. “I mean, what gives? How the hell did Haws die months later?”

  Liu stared at him, momentarily widening her eyes and motioning her head up toward the pilot of the private shuttle. Shut up, moron. We’ve got secret brain-to-brain radio and you’re just going to blabber it all out loud for the driver to hear?

  He grinned sheepishly. Right. But where the hell would he go? Where could he go? Everyone thought he died at the battle of Earth. If he didn’t, how did he escape notice? Who did the UE brass think they were burying? And then, once he actually died, who secretly replaced whatever was in that grave with the real Haws? This shit’s messed up.

  I’m not arguing with that. She rubbed her temple. Okay, I’m going to get back with my buddy at IDF Intel. See if he can uncover something for us. I’m sure there are classified archived files he can sift through.

  You mean the one that was supposed to analyze Curiel’s DNA sample that Cooper scratched off his wrist?

  That’s the one. She met his questioning look. He’s . . . a little flighty, okay? Nervous about getting caught. And busy these days, what with all the shit going down. I needed to get back to him anyway to get those results. Two birds with one stone this way.

  As the shuttle touched down, Danny glanced out the window and had to do a double take. “Why the hell is Cooper waiting for us out there?”

  Indeed, waiting near the entrance to the office tower behind the launch pad, President Cooper stood impatiently, a few aides and Secret Service officers waiting in the background. As soon as the engine died down, he released his restraint and opened the hatch.

  “Mr. Proctor, when I hire a private gunship and its ca
ptains to be my personal starship and security, I expect to be able to use it whenever I need it.” Her arms were folded, her lips tugged downward.

  “Sorry, ma’am, we’re ready to go whenever you are.”

  “I was ready half an hour ago.”

  He winced. “What about Interstellar One? If it was that urgent—”

  She rolled her eyes. “Don’t you remember? Interstellar One is currently a cloud of debris mixed with the pieces of my predecessor. It’s why I even hired you, dumbass.” She kept up the lie of Sepulveda’s death for her Secret Service officers nearby, and for the shuttle pilot.

  “Oh. I mean, I thought they would have had a backup . . .”

  She thumbed toward the door. “Let’s go. It’s urgent.”

  They left the launch pad, entered the spaceport wing of the executive office tower, took a lift three levels up, and reemerged back into the twilit evening on another launch pad, this one much larger and occupied by the Crimson Phoenix.

  President Cooper started to board the ship after Danny, and then stopped so abruptly the Secret Service officer behind her bumped into her. “Ma’am?” he said.

  “You’re staying here. We’ll be back in the morning.”

  He shook his head. “Sorry, ma’am, no can do. I have orders from the SAIC that—”

  “I don’t give a shit what Danforth says. Tell me again how well he kept the last guy alive? Beat it. I’ll let you tag along on every other trip, I promise.” She turned back around and resumed her ascent. “Just not this one.”

  Once they were all strapped into their seats and the engine had started humming to life, Danny asked, “Okay, where are we going?”

  “I’ve received permission from Director Talus to make an official presidential visit to Bellarus and inspect the damage from the Russian separatists’ attack. Make a big show of caring and all that. Offer help. Yada yada. Don’t worry, we’ll be met there by half a dozen diplomatic corps ships along with a few IDF starships—we’ll be perfectly safe.”

  Danny dialed in the q-jump coordinates for Bellarus even as the launch thrusters pushed the ship into the air. “But why? Isn’t that currently a war zone? What have we got to gain? Does it help with the plan my aunt and Granger and Sepulveda are working on?”

  She looked at him askance. “Kid, there is no plan. We’re building this ship while we fly it.”

  Liu dialed a few more commands into the flight dashboard while Danny worked on the coordinates. “Makes perfect sense, darling. Bellarus was only nominally an RC world, and had been wanting out of the Russian Confederation for decades. Now that it’s in shambles, it’s the perfect time for UE to make some overtures and offers to help rebuild. Possibly sway their political leadership to switch their allegiance to us rather than stay RC. Hell, even if the politicians aren’t swayed, the people living there will see UE folk rebuilding their city instead of the RC, and vote the bums out faster than you can say Avery versus Malakov.”

  Cooper nodded. “See? She gets it.”

  It was Danny’s turn to roll his eyes. “Oh come on. Don’t tell me we’re making a secret trip to a war zone just to help build Talus’s new empire.”

  “If you’d been listening, you’d know this isn’t a secret by any stretch. Half the diplomatic corps fleet will be there.”

  “Yes, but why the cloak and dagger? Why don’t we have all your aides and Secret Service on board? What’s the real reason for the trip?”

  Cooper chuckled. “I appear to have underestimated you, Mr. Proctor. Okay, fair enough. Remember our chat with not-dead Speaker Curiel a few days ago? As the new chairman of the board of Shovik-Orion, he promised me a tour of a critical research facility that just so happens to be in high orbit around Bellarus. Since it is technically RC space, but only loosely, Shovik-Orion thought that would be an ideal place to carry out research that might be frowned upon by serious interstellar governments.”

  “Research such as?” said Liu.

  “Let’s think, shall we? What is the main lifeblood of defense contractors? What kind of projects do they get funding for? Interpretive dances routines? Innovative cooking techniques?”

  “Weapons, ma’am.”

  “Good job.”

  “But what kind?”

  “I’m not currently at liberty to say. You don’t need to know. It’s not your job to know. It’s your job to keep me safe, and to get me places I need to go at the drop of a hat. Got it?”

  Liu returned her attention to the dashboard. “Got it,” she replied, with only a hint of a grumble. Danny recognized that almost-imperceptible change in tone as extreme annoyance.

  President Cooper was momentarily distracted with her handheld comm device. “Oh no. Goddammit.”

  “What?” both Danny and Fiona said in unison.

  Cooper pointed at the ship’s comm controls. “Talus is broadcasting. My chief of staff just told me he’s about to start executing people if Granger doesn’t turn himself in.”

  Fiona flipped the monitor on and dialed into the official UE channel. Director Talus appeared on the screen, mid-speech. Cooper chuckled. “What’s so funny?” asked Danny.

  “Just look at that idiot. Oppenheimer. See him?” She waved a hand at the monitor. Fleet Admiral Oppenheimer stood behind Talus and to the right. Though the camera wasn’t focused on his face, they could see it clearly. “Watch his expression. He looks like he’s just received news that his dick is about to be decapitated. Look at him. He thought that siding with Talus would get him the keys to the kingdom. Now he’s just a court attendant to a madman, and he’s stuck. Impotent. That traitorous bastard.”

  They watched a few more minutes. Danny had to look away as the first man fell. He flinched when the energy weapon whined its blast. The second body hitting the ground had just as sickening an effect, but by the third body, he was able to watch. The fourth felt like clock-work. It was interesting to him that he could observe himself become numb to the casual violence in real time. “Secret weapons at Bellarus, you say? I’ll finish those calcs.”

  Cooper nodded, still staring at the screen as the fifth man fell. “And hurry, if you don’t mind. If we didn’t know it before: time is simply not a luxury we have.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Kiev Sector

  Bellarus, high orbit

  ISS Defiance

  Bridge

  “That’s not a whole lot to go on, Sampono,” said Zivic. Her CGI face hovered above the Defiance’s command console, and both he and former President Sepulveda were inside the blur-screen that would shield the conversation from the rest of the bridge crew.

  “That’s all we’ve got, I’m afraid. The Admiral didn’t get that much out of the guy before I popped a hole in his chest. But she was pretty insistent that you boys go check out that research lab. She thinks Shovik-Orion might be up to something.”

  Sepulveda shook his head. “It’s a distraction. We’ve got an occupation of Earth, and a rogue Swarm ship on the loose. Is now really the time to be investigating a private sector research lab?”

  “The Admiral seemed to think so. So I’d say yes,” said Sampono, cooly. Zivic was impressed that the computer picked up on that. Or maybe it was just his imagination. Either way, Sepulveda took it the way she likely intended, since he folded his arms rather petulantly.

  “Okay, Sampono, tell her we’re on our way. We’ll report back if we find something. Zivic out.” He nodded a goodbye, and flipped the transmission off. He turned to the nav station. “Set a course for Smolensk research station, Ensign.”

  “Sir, a moment?” said Commander Rice.

  “Sure.” Zivic made his way back to the tactical station where Rice stood hunched over the console with the tactical officer.

  “You’re aware of the capabilities of the Defiance, I assume.” Rice stood upright and eyed Zivic up and down, as if sizing him up.

  “We both assume, yes.”

  “Including, uh, the stealth system?”

  Dammit. Rice was implicitly cal
ling him an idiot. And he was right. What the hell was wrong with him? Ever since Bern.

  He stroked his chin, making an effort to at least appear thoughtful, as if he’d considered the stealth, weighed the pros and cons, but only after a good argument was he convinced to use it. Dammit, who am I kidding? “Fair point. Engage the system. And when we come in range of the station, get me as many passive scans as we can. Let’s learn all we can before announcing ourselves with an active scan.”

  Rice wouldn’t be the type to smile smugly, but it seemed he tried hard to suppress it all the same. “Aye, sir.”

  The Defiance drifted away from the graveyard of ships—some still occasionally arcing electricity and spewing byproducts from supercritical reactors exposed to space. Ensign Nagin engaged the thrusters to adjust the orbit, and before long they were on an intercept course for Smolensk station.

  “We should arrive within five minutes, sir,” said Nagin.

  “Good. Don’t get us too close. And when we’re within a thousand kilometers, adjust orbit so that we’re synchronized. I want some time passively scanning that thing before we’re discovered.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  Sepulveda sat down in the captain’s chair, and Zivic could almost swear he heard the man grunt hrrmph. Like a petulant child. My God, we elected this man president? Oh right, we didn’t.

  “So, Mr. President. How’s the campaign shaping up?”

  “Very funny,” replied Sepulveda. “Take your trolling elsewhere, please.”

  “No, I was serious. I assume that, you know, we eventually win this thing, that we both come out the other side alive. And that it happens sooner rather than later, since otherwise, well, the Swarm has never been content to just let us live peacefully for long periods of time.”

  Sepulveda shrugged.