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Nine - EARTH
The office, paid for by the good people of Earth, was enormous. Carefully tended plants stood just so, each in a matching pot, arranged to complement the cane furniture. The early afternoon sun filtered in through gauzy white curtains, a ceiling fan stirred the slightest scented air, and music, one of the arias for which Dwellers were justifiably famous, wafted from unseen speakers.
The android looked exactly as she did, and, over a period of time, Governor Sandral Usmos had come to regard the robot as an extension of her own persona. They wore the same kind of clothes, jewelry, and makeup, walked with the same determined strides, and spoke in the same clipped syntax.
A clone might have offered a more elegant solution, but would almost certainly object to the role of professional decoy. No, the robot made more sense, and would provide a much needed alibi should anything go wrong. Treason can be dangerous, after all - and is best practiced from the shadows.
Sandr
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HALF BREED Ten - EARTH
The tone was cheerful, deceptively so, and Quinn responded with that in mind. "I don't blame you for being angry, sir, but I can put things right, and double the company's revenue within the next twelve months".It was an absurd claim, but delivered with such sincerity that Zuon was intrigued. He perched on a corner of the conference table. The sarcasm was obvious. "Really? How fascinating! Tell me more".So Quinn did, starting with the macro socioeconomic situation, and going on to knit the various pieces of the scheme together. Zuon, who didn't impress easily, found himself growing increasingly excited.The plan would not only improve the companies bottom line, but put the screws to Doug Douglas Enterprises, something Zuon had long wanted to do.The industrialist sent Quinn on his way, summoned his secretary staff, and ordered them to disrobe. The clones complied, which was nice for Zuon, and for those scheduled for the pit. Their presentation went off without
HALF BREED Eleven - EARTH
A check confirmed that a Midvalian seat frame had been flown in, a top-of-the-line holo tank sat ready for use, and there were plenty of refreshments, including some grublike creatures that wriggled in the bottom of a bowl.The staff, all of whom were androids, would be brain-wiped the moment the meeting was over, reduced to their component parts, and fed into an electric arc furnace. A rather expensive precaution, but necessary nonetheless.It took fifteen minutes to complete the necessary introductions and dispense with the small talk.The guest took their seats, all but the War Vaano that is, who loomed behind Vaano's chair, and stood ready to defend him. It was a relationship that neither one of Midvalians could break, and extended to the Egg Vaano, deep in her distant cave.The group had chosen Governor Usmos to act as moderator, a role that she relished. The politici
HALF BREED Twelve - EARTH
Ishimoto-Seven came to his feet. His fingers opened and closed. "I didn't come here to take insults from corporate whores! Perhaps Citizen Quinn would like to take it outside, where I would be pleased to kick his pompous ass!"Usmos started to intervene, but Luton beat her to it. His voice was low but carried to every corner of the room. "Stow the bullshit".The room fell silent as the officer stood and clasped his hands behind his back. His eyes were like lasers and probed the faces around him. "Let's get something straight.... Every damned one of you has an axe to grind. Fine. I accept that. But nothing, I repeat nothing, is going to happen unless my people put their lives on the line and manage to win one hellacious battle."If we survive, if we win, the lot of you can squabble over who gets what, so long as you remember one important fact: We have the weapons, we have the know-how, and we have the final say. Question
HALF BREED Thirteen - EARTH
That being the case, the major's nervousness was somewhat understandable, even if he was a worthless piece of shit. Paul flipped a switch, consulted a list, and addressed his boom mike. "Transport mike-sierra-vielrot-one-niner-eight, this is Bashu control, over".The reply could be heard on an overhead speaker and had the precise, slightly stilted sound of a voice synthesizer. A sure sign that the pilot was a cyborg. The vast majority of box heads chose to maintain their original genders, and the flight officer was no exception. "This is one-ninety-eight... Go".Paul looked at Lucy. She nodded. "Tell her to return and land in the compound".The noncom relayed the message and monitored the reply. "Sorry, Bashu control, but that's a negative. My number two engine shows yellow, and I need a class three facility or better".Lucy nodded. The fort's pad was rated class four, which meant there were no maintenence functio
HALF BREED Fourteen - EARTH
The officer, not wanting to appear frightened, sent Martin a dirty look, made a note to get even, and opened the door. The tarmac was so hot he could feel the heat through the bottoms of his boots.Daniell waited for a dilapidated cargo car to pass, followed the faded yellow line out to the fly form, and mounted the aluminum stairs. Chances were that Marco would be pissed and looking for someone to crap on.Daniell plastered his best shit-eating smile across his face, stepped into the relatively cool interior, and called the officer's name. "Colonel Marco? Mayor Daniell here, come to pick you up".The response came from speakers mounted at the front of the cabin. "This is Lieutenant Morris, sir... The colonel left"."Left?" Daniell asked. "How? Where?""Sorry, sir. I don't know"."What about the prisoner? A corporal named Sparrow?""Don't know, sir. The two of them left together?
HALF BREED Fifteen - EARTH
Sparrow grinned, fed the specially programmed strip of "live" metal into the appropriate slot, and waited for the device to figure out which of the more than one hundred thousand possible shapes programmed into its memory would handle this particular lock. He had won the tool in a poker game, and used it ever since. Less than three seconds had elapsed when Marco heard a decisive click, saw the noncom turn the handle, and watched the door swing open.The sentry, plus a couple of her buddies, were seated around the cooler sipping from cold bottles of beer. She went for her rifle, but Marco was quicker. "Sorry", the officer said, "but I'll take that. Finish the beer and report to the sergeant at arms when you're done".The legionnaire were still sitting there, staring at the place where the officer had been, when the porters marched by. "Who the hell was that?" Private Joelle asked of no one in particular."That was your new commanding offic
HALF BREED Sixteen - EARTH
There was a loud thump. Marco turned to find that his other ground pounder, Captain Simon Olmsted III, commanding officer of D Company, 2nd REP, was facedown on the table. A steady expanding red stain indicated where his wine had gone. No one seemed surprised. That spoke volumes... And Marco made a note.The next officer, Captain Gandhi NY, was something of a surprise. Given the fact that there was no way in hell that her ten-ton, tractorlike body was going to fit inside the mess, and the rest of the officers weren't likely to dine in her vast underground garage, the cyborg had elected to have her brain box delivered to the table.And not just delivered, but delivered on a silver tray, which Marco found to be vastly amusing. It spoke of style, courage, and a good sense of humor.NY's brain box, which was covered with a custom-tailored dress uniform, plus rows of decorations, was equipped with a vid cam as well. It whirred as it pann
HALF BREED Seventeen - EARTH
Marco nodded and saluted in return. His voice made its way through a wire-thin boom mike and out over the PA system. "Thank you, Major. Put the troops at ease".Daniell did a perfect about-face, gave the appropriate order, and was rewarded with something less than perfection. The entire headquarters company seemed a little slow on the uptake, as if they hadn't drilled in quite a while, and the cyborgs, who backed the rest of the troops, made no move whatsoever. They'd been at ease from the start. Sloppiness? Or insolence? The first was regrettable, the second could be dangerous.Marco cleared his throat, brought the orders up in front of his face, and read them aloud. The language, though stilted and somewhat archaic, still possessed power. Not because of the words themselves, but because of the thousands who had both spoken and heard them. Some had gone on to live long, happy lives. Many had not. They lay buried beneath thick jungle foliage, under piles
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