Ragnarok: Colonization, intrigue and betrayal. Read online

  She took his hand. “Trisha,” she said with a reserved smile.

  “Trisha,” he repeated. “Short for Patricia?”

  She tilted her head, one brow raised in amusement. “No, Trisha is an old Sanskrit name meaning ‘wish’.”

  Frank stifled his own wishes. She’s off-limits, remember? The thought put him at ease. “An auspicious name,” he said. “Aren’t we all here on a wish?”

  She laughed. “I’ve been called many things but never auspicious!” A look of concern flashed across her face as those around them turned. She snatched her hand back, laying it across her collarbone and looking back out at Earth.

  The tension in his shoulders was back now. Well done, jackass! You’ve managed to run afoul of their ways in less than two minutes of talking. He was tempted to say something, anything to put the conversation back into the easy friendliness of a few seconds ago but he figured he’d just make things worse.

  “Boss!”

  He wasn’t sure if he was annoyed or relieved to have Terry show up. He shrugged. Given how things were going, almost any change would have to be for the better.

  Terry edged in closer, holding hands with a teenager – the young man from the cargo bay. Trisha’s son?

  “Hey, Terry,” Frank said.

  “Hey,” Terry nodded at the boy. “This is Vikram. He’s pretty cool. He’s like a genius about growing coffee!”

  “That right?”

  “Yeah. His mom’s bringing along seeds for her choice-crop.”

  The farmers in the colony weren’t allowed to just plant whatever, not on a new planet where the only long-term food might well come from their efforts. Each family had a couple of assigned crops so the colony wouldn’t starve or end up dependent on Earth.

  To compensate, they also had the right to choose one crop on their own. Frank and Terry would be growing corn and soybeans for the colony but they were also bringing along some of their best marijuana strains.

  Terry had let go of Vikram’s hand so he could gesture. He did that when excited and finding out that coffee would be cultivated on the new world would definitely excite him.

  “Oh yeah,” Terry continued a little self-consciously, “he also said dudes hold hands in India all the time and it’s totally not weird or anything.”

  You weren’t here a few seconds ago, Frank thought, though Vikram’s mother was definitely not a dude. “So you’re a coffee grower, Vikram?”

  The teen nodded. “Yes sir.”

  “Oh, sorry.” Frank held out his hand. “Name’s Frank.”

  They shook hands. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Frank. Terry tells me your choice-crop is marijuana?”

  “That’s right. I figure we might be able to develop a market in the republic, maybe even the empire as well.”

  “Tell him,” Terry said eagerly, nudging Vikram with an elbow.

  “You might have a market without having to look beyond the colony itself,” the lad told him.

  “Really?” Frank had been thinking of cannabis as more of a long-term crop so this was entirely unexpected.

  He looked back up at Trisha, realizing it might be a bad idea, chatting with her son about what might be a forbidden substance in their homeland. She didn’t seem angry.

  “It depends on where our fellow colonists come from,” she told him. “Some states allow it, some don’t. You’ll find some who disapprove.” She allowed him a ghost of a smile at this. “But the seeds…”

  “They have some religious uses,” Vikram said, “and bhang lassi is a popular drink made from the seeds.”

  “Then how am I the only farmer to bring it as my choice?” Frank asked her.

  “You must have been the only marijuana farmer they tried to recruit,” she said. “They were mostly looking for people that grow staples. When they realize you can give them a taste of home, your choice crop might make you a very popular man!”

  “Tell them about our idea,” Terry urged her son.

  “What are you two cooking up?” Her ominous tone was belied by the smile on her face.

  “Inter-cropping,” Vikram told her. “Terry tells me that cannabis is a…” He frowned, looking at his new friend.

  “We call it a pioneer crop,” Terry reminded him.

  “Yes. A pioneer crop. It helps to prepare hostile soil for other plants. Even with the alien technology they gave us to condition our fields, we’ll most likely have a long struggle to get good yields.”

  “If we mix the weed in with their coffee,” Terry added, “It might keep alien bugs away from the roots and who knows what kind of flavor the coffee might take on!”

  “Can we be neighbors, Ma?” Vikram asked.

  “Perhaps,” she told him. “It’s a little early to start picking out farm plots.”

  “Bad luck,” Terry agreed.

  Trisha and Vikram both looked sharply at Terry. She moved closer to her son.

  Terry hadn’t noticed because a pretty young lady had just moved past in front of them and she’d been aware of his obvious interest, much to the agitation of her mother.

  But Frank had caught the change in their behavior. Should I ask? he wondered but time had just run out.

  A group of armed and armored individuals entered the space and began moving through the crowd. Their heads moved left and right, probably scanning the crowd for weapons.

  One of them passed in front of Frank and Trisha’s group. His chest bore a symbol of a white circle eclipsed by a blue one.

  The armed guards respectfully cleared a space in the center of the room and stood, facing inward rather than out at the colonists. Frank had thought they were there to intimidate the colonists but why would they face inward instead of…

  The colonists gasped in surprise when they suddenly realized there was a small group of armored figures standing in the middle of the circle.

  “It’s said that they do that using only their minds!” Vikram whispered in awe. “And they can read your thoughts!”

  Trisha shushed him, as a good many parents were doing at the moment. The buzz of surprise grew quiet as the figures opened their helmets.

  “Hello, everyone,” one of the men said. “My name is Gleb. I’m sure many of you will notice that, though the republic considers me to be the lord of Irth, you’ve all had no choice in the matter.”

  He grinned. “If it helps at all, I had no choice either.”

  A low rumble of laughter ran through the crowd.

  “As far as our fellow Earthers are concerned, for now,” the woman next to him said, “we don’t exist. If you leave the planet to join a colony, then you need to know what’s going on out here.”

  “My name is Luna Morales, from California,” she added. “One of my duties will apparently be explaining manners to my future husband, starting with how to introduce your wife.”

  “She’s the future lady?” Trisha said loudly but still barely audible over the laughter. “I wasn’t expecting her to look like that!”

  “Like what?” Frank asked, taking the opportunity to glance at Trisha’s profile.

  “She could almost pass unnoticed in India! Well, not quite unnoticed,” she amended. “She would definitely get noticed but… Oh, you know what I mean!”

  “Yeah,” Frank looked back at the armored woman. “I see what you mean – about the similarities, I mean.” He added the last part hastily.

  “And she’s got spirit!” Trisha said approvingly. “Scolding a man who owns the whole planet!”

  “Yeah, well, she’s a fighter pilot.”

  “No! Really?”

  “US Navy,” Frank told her, suddenly realizing that he was feeling a little pride in the future lady of his people. “She’s a combat veteran.”

  “She’s a good match for him,” Trisha decided.

  “You think?” Frank asked, though he felt she was right.

  “Of course.” She nodded emphatically. “Power corrupts. A powerful man, such as the ruler of an entire species, needs a strong woman to keep hi
m from getting out of line.”

  A few women near them were nodding in agreement, and a few looked a little surprised when they turned to see who they’d agreed with.

  “There’s no knowing what you might encounter on that planet,” Gleb told them. “There could be vampire monkeys for all we know, so these warriors will be traveling with you.”

  “Our chief duty is keeping you safe,” Luna added. She gestured at the troops in the room. “Every member of this platoon was genetically optimized by the Meleke Corporation for combat.

  “They possess enhanced cognition, reflexes and healing abilities. These Human troops are feared throughout the empire, so they should make any hostiles think twice about attacking.”

  “You’ll have a permanent garrison,” Gleb said. “We’ll set up a six month rotation though any of these men and women can opt to remain with you if they’re... so inclined.”

  He’d left just enough pause there to make his meaning clear and a few of the younger colonists were whispering among themselves. Frank couldn’t blame them.

  With roughly three hundred people, the pool of eligible singles would be quite small. Did he say the enhancements were genetic?

  Gleb held up his hands. “Whoa! I don’t need to actively use my abilities to pick up on the current here. I’ll save you all the speculation. If a garrison member and a colonist want to marry, then that’s fine.”

  He looked at Luna’s hand on his shoulder, raising an eyebrow at her.

  “But make sure you show respect for local customs,” she insisted, looking at the troops around her. “I don’t want to hear of you guys trying to elope with somebody’s son or daughter!”

  “That’s a good point,” Gleb agreed. “I was just in Mr. Morales’ garage, asking for his blessing, so I expect no less of my troops.” He looked back out at the crowd.

  “I’m not ‘reading’ you but the mental background noise is pointing to one more… elephant in the room. Humans from the republic are all enhanced genetically. They can pass that on to their children. Most of those improvements are designed as dominant genes so they’ll live on through the generations.

  “We’re also stationing a couple of combat vessels in orbit. As your ability to support fleet operations grows, so will the defensive presence but, for now, we don’t want to saddle you with too many mouths to feed.”

  He paused. “We really do need to get going but we wanted you to know we weren’t going to just drop you out there and then abandon you.”

  “We’ve got a wedding to get to,” Luna said, “and I’m sure you’re all eager to get going, so travel safely and we should be able to get there the same time as you if we push our engines a little.”

  Just like that, they were gone.

  “Not sure I’ll ever get used to that,” Frank said.

  The crowd started dispersing. Terry and Vikram wandered off, still talking about crops.

  Trisha watched them go with a smile. “He’s a nice young man, your Terry. It’s hard for Vikram to make friends, so it does my heart good to see them so excited over their ideas.”

  Frank felt a mild surge of jealousy.

  “Excuse me,” the young woman who had distracted Terry was approaching Trisha. “That young man with your son...”

  “Kiara!” Her mother caught up with her. “Go and help your sisters unpack.” She tutted as the young woman flounced off. “She takes watching, that one.”

  “Every young man on the ship will need watching with such a pretty girl on board,” Trisha said.

  She managed to get a smile from that comment. No mother can resist a compliment about her child, even when it was so obviously true.

  The mother looked at Frank. “Your son,” she said, sounding like she was searching for the right words. “He seems like a nice young man…”

  Frank smiled. Of course she wants to get an idea of who she might find herself dealing with. “He’s not my son, ma’am. He was working for me in California.

  “He’s a good kid. With me leaving, there were no ties left to keep him there, so he decided to join the colony.” There you go, he’s single. The rest is up to you.

  “Well, I’d better go and make sure she’s gone to our quarters to help her sisters.” She bustled off.

  He leaned closer to Trisha. “How much danger is Terry in?” he asked her in a conspiratorial voice.

  She chuckled. “Mrs. Naidu’s on a mission and he’s in her sights.”

  “Really? They’d be willing to consider a foreigner?”

  “You’re asking the wrong question,” she told him. “The real issue is whether they would let their daughter marry a Christian.”

  “Ah,” Frank said, reminded of Sushil’s off-limits comment.

  “He needs to show a willingness to coexist,” she told him. “He can’t demand that she convert or raise the children in a way that shows no respect for their roots.”

  “Oh boy,” Frank took a deep breath. Terry was kind of a Human windsock. “The kid’s probably gonna be hitched by the time we reach the colony.”

  “Is that such a bad thing?”

  He thought about that. He couldn’t help but smile at the idea. “No,” he turned to her. “Now that I think about it, it’s probably the best thing that could happen to him.”

  She returned his smile, just a little.

  Outside, the Earth blurred and disappeared as the ship began shifting the Universe out of its way.

  Neither of them noticed.

  Power Couple

  Something Called a Church

  Noah opened the window of the small room to which they’d been assigned by the priest. It was just off the side of the altar and, as far as Gleb was concerned, dangerously low on oxygen. “How did you guys meet?” Noah came back over to adjust Gleb’s tie.

  “I’m betting she knocked you on your ass at some club somewhere,” Luca said, “and that made you seem more like family.”

  “Yeah, well I… What?”

  “She’s a scrapper,” Noah shrugged. “If she didn’t get through for a pilot, she probably would’ve gone for the Marines.” He grinned, stepping back from working on the tie. “Did that happen? Did she rough you up?”

  “No.” Gleb paused, wondering what was appropriate to say. “We lived in the same building. I just… noticed her on her balcony.”

  “Noticed her…” Noah glanced sidelong at his brother. “Adelina would have a few things to say about that, I’m sure.”

  “Yeah,” Luca drawled. “Our big sis has a lot to say about Luna’s wardrobe.”

  “Seems like a normal wardrobe to me,” Dexter said. “Pretty standard stuff, especially for a hot girl…”

  “You talking smack about my sister?” Noah said, his handsome features suddenly taking on a predatory cast. He leaned in toward Dexter.

  Who’d met Scylla.

  Gleb had made sure his Human friends were rewarded for their support. Dexter’s head was filled with all sorts of useful info, including a full range of combat patterns. Then he’d been introduced to the ‘high priestess’.

  He could read people like a book.

  Noah was doing a good job of sounding aggressive but he was just messing with Dex. “Not talking smack,” Dex said casually. “I’m just saying there’s nothing wrong with a gorgeous woman dressing sexy. That bikini she had on at Dex’s pool...”

  “Dude!” Luca exclaimed. “That’s our sister!”

  “How about a truce, then?” Dex asked. “’Cause this can get really uncomfortable, fellas.”

  “Especially if Aberdeen gets wind of this,” Gleb added.

  “Hey...” Dex spread his hands. “She was the one who pointed out how Luna looked in that little bikini. I agreed, of course, which only amused her. Abby knows how lucky I am...”

  They all turned at the sound of approaching voices, talking in something other than English. Luca stepped back from the door at the sound of a body slamming into it.

  Gleb sighed. I already explained this. “Turn the
handle!” he shouted.

  The handle turned and Eth burst in, Noa in tow. They wrapped Gleb in what he now knew was called a bear-hug on Irth.

  “Nervous?” Eth asked in English, stepping back to admire Gleb’s tuxedo.

  “I’d be less nervous if we could get these ties fixed,” Gleb said.

  “What?” Eth tugged at the tie he’d wrapped around his neck like a scarf. “This is not the proper wearings?”

  “Guys,” Gleb gestured, “these are Luna’s brothers, Noah and Luca. These,” he gestured again, “are my friends from back home, Eth and Noa.”

  “Hey,” Noa exclaimed, “cool namings! I didn’t expect to come all this way to find someone with the same name!”

  Gleb was trying not to laugh. Did my use of English really improve that much? These guys actually sound like they’re from some other country. “Noah, can you give your namesake a hand with his tie?”

  He moved to help Eth but Luca stepped in. “No offense, Bro, but I’ve seen the job you did on your own tie.”

  “Yeah,” Noah agreed. “Don’t let Dad see you wearing a tie like that mess you walked in with earlier.”

  “Hey, I did OK,” Gleb protested.

  “Don’t you Russians do ties?” Luca demanded. “I know your presidents usually have ties on.”

  “Yeah, well…” Gleb shot a look at Eth. “We’re from Kazakhstan – Roscosmos brats.”

  “Roscoe bats?” Luca frowned as he finished Eth’s tie.

  “Roscosmos,” Eth corrected, proving he’d memorized the briefing material his lord had sent him. “Our parents were part of Russian space program at Baikonur. We grew up there.”

  “And… no ties?”

  “It became a, how you say, backwater?” Noa said. “After Vostochny Cosmodrome came online, our town started to shrink. Mostly a place where careers are sent to die – professional gulag.”

  “But Gleb got post at Vostochny,” Eth said proudly. “He wear the hells out of that clip-on tie, yes?”

  “That’s what set you up for your current gig?” Noah asked. “Working for the Russian program?”

  Gleb and Luna had researched a detailed background, so he was itching to use it. “They do good work here but sometimes sophistication can get you into trouble. Maeve brought me on because pragmatism is practically a national sport for us.