14

Through the transport’s forward viewport, Beauceron watched as the transfer station slid past below them. The system’s sun was setting over the curvature of Tarkis up ahead, and it disappeared fully as they began their descent, and slipped into the planet’s shadow. Tarkis’ continents came into view under the cloudless night sky: Beauceron could make out their outlines from the web-like golden lights of the planet’s myriad, multi-level cities.

“Air traffic control is hailing us,” the pilot reported.

“Ignore them,” Beauceron said. “Just take us down to the coordinates General Childers gave us.”

“Yes, sir,” the pilot agreed.

And let’s hope Childers’ message got through to the local IP commander, Beauceron thought. He smiled reassuringly at Dasi, standing beside him. She smiled nervously back.

They landed less than five minutes later, the transport hovering in through the open dome of a large sports stadium, and setting down in the middle of the field. Beauceron and Dasi left the pilots in the cockpit, and walked down the ship’s forward ramp. The stadium was dark, lit only by the flashing running lights of the ship – it could have been full of people, for all Beauceron could tell.

It feels empty, though, he thought. Perhaps they didn’t get the message after all.

“Over there,” Dasi said, pointing.

Beauceron squinted, but his eyes could not make anything out. “Where?”

“Sorry,” she said. “I keep forgetting that I have these implants in. There’s someone standing in the entrance tunnel watching us.”

Beauceron frowned, but set off across the grass of the field, with Dasi following. As they drew near, he saw several shadowy forms detach themselves from the darker black of the tunnel.

“Detective Beauceron?” a gruff voice asked.

“Yes,” Beauceron said.

The leading man held his hand out – he wore civilian clothes, Beauceron saw, but his haircut and posture told Beauceron he was law enforcement. “Colonel Emeka. Welcome to Tarkis.”

“Thank you,” Beauceron said. “This is Private Apter.”

“Private,” the colonel said, shaking her hand. “I’ll warn you, I’m not in a very patient mood right now. I’ve got Jokuan soldiers looting all over my city, and a standing order from Anchorpoint to just sit around with my thumb up my ass, letting them do whatever they feel like. I’m fairly pissed right now.”

“I can imagine,” Beauceron said.

“And despite those orders, I’ve already lost two officers who decided they couldn’t just stand by and watch the Jokuans gang-rape a woman. I doubt they’ll be the last,” he grumbled. “Then I get General Childers’ order to meet you two here, but the message didn’t go into any other details. So I’m hoping you can tell me what this is all about.”

“Yes, sir,” Beauceron agreed. “We’re here to help you take back Tarkis.”

Emeka looked over Beauceron’s shoulder at the small transport. “You got an army hiding on that thing, Detective?”

“No, sir,” Beauceron said. “Just the two of us, for now. But we’ve got a plan.”

“A plan? That’s comforting.” Emeka sighed. “Does that plan involve letting my officers actually do their job?”

“Yes, sir.”

Emeka grunted. “Well, that’s a shitload better than the plan we’re working with now, at least. Let’s hear it.”

 

* * *

 

They filtered into the stadium slowly at first, and then in larger groups of four or five officers at a time, appearing silently from the darkness of the entrance tunnels. They wore civilian clothes, but carried their service weapons – pistols and shotguns, and the final groups stopped at the nearest stations’ armories on their way, and came carrying auto-rifles and bags of tactical gear. The weapons were passed out, checked, and loaded. Conversation was kept to a minimum, as senior NCOs organized them into squads and platoons, and the plan was disseminated.

Beauceron stood with Dasi and Emeka, surveying the field, listening as captains reported headcounts and weapon inventories. The detective caught himself looking up at the night sky, where the lights of the orbital transfer station winked above. He looked over at Dasi, who pointed at her watch meaningfully.

Beauceron nodded, and turned to Emeka. “How are we doing, Colonel?” he asked.

“Close to three hundred now,” Emeka said, turning away from his conversation with a subordinate. “If we give it another hour, I think we could get another hundred.”

Beauceron shook his head. “I don’t think we can wait any longer, sir.”

“No?” Emeka asked. “I figured we’d need every man we can find.”

“We do, sir,” Dasi agreed. “But every minute we wait gives the Jokuans more time to consolidate territory. And increases the chance of discovery for the other friendly elements in the plan.”

“So you want to go now?” Emeka asked.

“Yes, sir,” Beauceron said.

The senior officer contemplated this for a second. “General Childers’ message seemed to imply that you were in command of this operation,” Emeka said, leaving the statement hanging in the air.

“That was my understanding, too, sir,” Beauceron said. “I recognize that puts you in an awkward position.”

Emeka sized the shorter man up, eyeing him appraisingly. “Didn’t they want to promote you to colonel after that whole Guild thing?” he asked.

“They tried,” Beauceron said. “I turned them down.”

“Well, I’ve never been one for dick-measuring contests. So long as you don’t give us any unlawful orders or do anything colossally stupid, my men and I are at your command.”

“Thank you, sir,” Beauceron said. “Let’s get down to the metro station.”

They descended through the bowels of the stadium, three hundred police with Beauceron and Dasi at their head, and emerged onto the train platform located below the sports complex. Two trains sat, empty, along opposite sides of the platform. A pair of transit employees stood waiting for the officers, fidgeting nervously.

“Has the line been shut down?” Emeka asked them.

“Yeah,” one replied. “All trains have been rerouted. The line’s clear all the way to the spaceport.”

“You guys know the Jokuans are there already, right?” the other engineer asked.

“Where?” Emeka asked.

“The spaceport,” the engineer said. “They shut it down a couple hours ago. Sent everybody away and set up a big barricade outside the terminal entrance.”

Emeka nodded. “Noted.” He turned to his subordinates. “Split up – half on one train, half on the other.”

The train engineer scowled at Beauceron as the police filed onto the trains. “You guys aren’t planning to start a war or something, are you?”

“That’s exactly what we’re intending to do,” Beauceron confirmed, heading for the train on the right.

Dasi patted the man on the shoulder. “And you get to take us there.”