Kzine Issue 17 by Graeme Hurry et al

Author:Graeme Hurry et al. [al., Graeme Hurry et]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kimota Publishing
Published: 2017-01-23T00:00:00+00:00

THE WINNING TEAM

by Craig McEwan

“Talk,” she commanded. Dim lighting glinted from the epaulettes on her Space Force uniform.

A broad mirror, covering most of one wall, reflected the shabby interior of the makeshift interrogation chamber. Cutlery drying in a rack by the sink. Newspaper clippings of famous human victories, yellow and curled with age. A collection of pain-inflicting devices: clamps, needles, pliers. A Martian warrior, bound, naked, supine on a table, limbs splayed to reveal its pale underbelly and several mouth-like openings.

“Talk!” she repeated.

“Never,” whispered the Martian, straining at its harness. Dark green welts had formed on the skin, where it had been abraded by the rough leather straps.

“Really, General? Then I’ll have to use this.” She pressed the tip of a metallic prod against the fine scales of the alien’s underside. She pressed a button in the handle; the Martian let out an agonized scream. “That was six,” she hissed, and showed it the dial: it went up to a thousand. “How many craft in your invasion fleet?”

The Martian shook its head, its eyes unfocused. A line of drool dangled from its beak.

“In that case… ” She trailed the tip of the prod across its body, pausing briefly to caress the nerve-rich border of one orifice “This one?” she wondered. Another opening. “Here?” The Martian tensed as Daisy probed the nerve-rich entrance. “Ah yes. Here.” Grunting with effort, she forced the prod into its body. The alien struggled against its bonds, keening painfully.

“How many craft?” she asked.

“Never!”

She pressed the button.

The Martian’s scream was bloodcurdling. “No!”

The button: longer this time.

“I’ll talk!”

She thrust the prod. Hard. Repeatedly.

“I’ll talk, I said. Stop it!”

“What will you tell me?” she demanded.

“Everything!”

“Who will you betray?”

“My brothers! My Hive-queen! Anyone you name!”

“You’re a little worm aren’t you?” She was sweating with effort, as she worked the prod.

“Yes, yes!”

“A squirming worm in the ground, what are you?”

“A worm. That squirms. Ohhh.”

The alien shuddered convulsively. Something let go inside its body, and liquid gushed from a hidden aperture.

A pause, as it regained its composure

“Untie my bonds,” the Martian rumbled.

“Now, now, General. Safety word?”

“How about certain death? Is that safe enough for you? Release the bonds, Earthling.”

Daisy pouted, but obeyed. “Guava,” she muttered, as she loosened the buckles, “the word was Guava.”

***

“Was that okay, General?” Out of character, Daisy’s clipped tones had given way to a gentle Carolina drawl.

“Satisfactory. A little hurried, perhaps.”

“Customer’s always right—I’ll draw it out more next time.” She toyed with the tassels on her uniform, watching the creature wipe itself down with a towel, and pull on its clothing. “Y’know, I wanted to join Space Force, when I was a little girl. For real, I mean.”

“Had you done so, you would be long dead. Boiled away into space, with your comrades above Ganymede.”

“I know,” she sighed, “I never could pick the winning team.”

The General slapped a wad of tokens on the table, next to the soiled prod.

“Earth lost. We won. Picking never came into it.”

“And now you’re in charge.”

“I come from a warrior hive. War is over, and Humanity cow-like in defeat.

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