“I’d advise you to start being afraid of the Gendarmerie, Lieutenant,” he bit out instead, trying to keep his eyes on her face and away from that muzzle. “However full of yourselves you may feel right this instant, the League’s not going to be amused by what you people have already done here. Compounding it by threatening or attacking Solarian Gendarmes is only going to make things worse.”
“You need to work up a better grade of threat, Captain Kristoffersen,” Hearns replied. “Get a little more sneer into your delivery…maybe grow a mustache so you can twirl it properly…I don’t know, something. In the meantime, however, I think you should understand that we’re not especially impressed by the Gendarmerie, or the Solarian League, or Major Pole—or you—and save us all some trouble. We’re here for our nationals who have been illegally detained in this star system; we’re going to take them with us when we leave; and we’re going to do whatever it takes to accomplish that objective. I’d advise you to inform Major Pole that we don’t care about his ‘medical quarantine’ any more than we care about Governor Dueñas’ threats. If he isn’t prepared to release our people to us immediately, we can—and will—reclaim them by force. And just to be perfectly clear for the official record, ‘by force’ most definitely does include the use of lethal force.”
“You think you can just come aboard this station and threaten Solarians? Just who the hell do you people think you are?!”
“People who’re sick and tired of Solarians who think they can do anything they want to anyone they want to do it to and never get called to account,” Hearns replied coldly. “Of course, that’s only my personal view. I think it’ll probably do to be going on with, though. Now, are you going to pass my message to Major Pole? Or should I assume the time to begin reclaiming our people by force has already arrived?”
Kristoffersen was rigid with rage, but he was also acutely aware of his isolation. He wished now that he’d argued in favor of bringing at least a squad of his own people along, yet underneath the surface of that wish he suspected it was just as well he hadn’t. By now, this lunatic’s attitude would have pushed at least one of his troopers into a violent response and they’d already be knee-deep in bodies…including, quite probably, his own.
“I’ll pass your ‘message’ along, Lieutenant,” he grated. “I can already tell you what the answer will be, though.”
“Really?” Hearns said, regarding him coldly.
“Oh, yes.” He showed her his teeth. “‘Fuck off’ probably sums it up pretty well. In more official language, you understand.”
The Manty with the flechette gun tilted his head. His expression never even flickered, but Kristoffersen felt a sudden cold stab of terror as something stirred like Leviathan down in the hearts of those dark eyes. Hearns only reached out and touched her subordinate on the shoulder.
“Solarian command of Standard English never ceases to amaze and impress me,” she said, never looking away from Kristoffersen. “All of you bring such eloquence and poetry to our common tongue. Assuming, however, that you’ve captured the gist of Major Pole’s response accurately, I suppose we’ll simply have to come and get our people.”
“And just how do you propose to do that?” Kristoffersen snapped. “You may have a damned fleet sitting out there, for all I know. But you aren’t out there, and neither are the assholes sitting in the brig. You’re inside, with us, Lieutenant, and you really don’t want to fuck with the Gendarmerie on our own ground. Not unless you’ve got a hell of a lot more powered armor and heavy weapons than I see! You want to try fighting your way into this section, you go right ahead, because there’re going to be a hell of a lot of dead Manties before you get into it! And it sure would be a pity if the brig should be accidentally depressurized as a consequence of your decision to attack the Gendarmerie for refusing to release legally quarantined personnel.”
His eyes glittered as he delivered the none-too-veiled threat, and Hearns’ expression turned colder than ever.
“Why am I not surprised?” She shook her head. “Let me explain something to you, Captain. It already occurred to us that you noble and courageous gendarmes might threaten to kill our civilians. I mean, we are talking about the Solarian Gendarmerie, those champions of truth, justice, and the Solarian way. Tester knows you’ve shown the rest of us poor, benighted neobarbs the high road to civilization often enough! Trust me, we’ve all been deeply impressed by your intervention battalions’ willingness to terrorize anyone who gets in your way…as long as they’re not in a position to shoot back.” Her cold contempt sent a boil of pure fury sweeping through Kristoffersen, but she only continued in that same scornful tone. “We, however, are in a position to shoot back, and if any of the civilian spacers in your custody are harmed in any way, we will hold you—meaning, in case you were wondering, you personally, Major Pole, and all of your personnel collectively—responsible for it. And for your information, the illegal detention of our civilians constitutes kidnapping and unlawful constraint under interstellar law. Which can be—and will be—construed as an act of piracy. And pirates, as you may be aware, are liable to summary execution.”
Kristoffersen stared at her in sheer disbelief.
“So now you’re threatening to try us as pirates?” he demanded.
“No, Captain. We’re warning you that if any of our people are harmed, we’ll execute you as pirates,” she said flatly.
Despite himself, her level tone sent an icicle through Jorn Kristoffersen. No one had ever threatened to execute Solarian Gendarmes! But as he looked into those cold, blue eyes and heard the unflinching certitude in that voice, he felt a terrifying suspicion that she meant it.
“Captain, I think you’d better go tell Major Pole what the situation is before you dig this hole any deeper for all of you,” Hearns told him with a curled lip. “Inform him that he has fifteen minutes to agree to release our personnel. After that time, we’ll come get them. And be sure you tell him what will happen if any of our people are hurt along the way. I wouldn’t want him to wonder why he’s being kicked out an airlock without a skinsuit.”
She turned her back without another word, and the Manty with the flechette gun twitched his head in the direction of the corridor to Victor Seven. Kristoffersen felt himself hovering on the brink of saying something else—or possibly of physically attacking Hearns, as suicidal as that would undoubtedly be. But sanity overpowered fury, and he turned and stalked down the corridor.
* * *
“Tell me, My Lady,” Mateo Gutierrez said over his private link as the Solarian stormed away, “do you think there was anything less diplomatic you could’ve said to him?”
“I certainly hope not,” Abigail replied. She turned her head, glancing back over her shoulder as Kristoffersen disappeared down the corridor, then returned her attention to Gutierrez. “I tried not to miss any of his buttons, anyway.”
“Oh, I’d say you got most of them,” Gutierrez said judiciously. “I thought twice he was going to go ahead and go for his gun, anyway.”
“In which case he’d be dead…and the universe would be a better place.”
Gutierrez twitched as he heard the cold, bitter, genuine loathing in her voice. Hatred was alien to Abigail Hearns, as he knew far better than most, but she was a Grayson. Graysons met the Test in their own lives. They did their jobs, and they honored their responsibilities, and a thousand years surviving on the planet which tried to kill them every single day gave them a sort of implacability which could be frightening to behold. It wasn’t like the fanaticism of the Faithful on their more hospitable and welcoming planet of exile, but it was something a San Martino like Gutierrez—or perhaps a Gryphon Highlander—could understand. Whether even they could have matched it was another question, of course, but Mateo Gutierrez had realized long ago why the mountain clansman in his own genes had responded so powerfully to the Grayson granite inside Abigail Hearns and her people.