The Imperium Game by K.D. Wentworth

Author:K.D. Wentworth [Wentworth, K.D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Event Horizon EBooks
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

THE HAIR on the back of Kerickson’s neck tried to crawl down his spine. He jerked out of the chair and thunked back into the console.

“I suppose there’s an explanation for this.” Quintus Gracchus’s armored body filled the doorway. He had a chin like an anvil, and close up his muscular legs and arms were even more massive than Kerickson had realized.

Kerickson turned around and punched Wilson’s code back into the keyboard. “Run diagnostics series fourteen.” The blue central screen dissolved into the Aegis, Jupiter’s traditional shield. “Look, I’ll be done in a moment, and then I’ll get out of your way.”

“Testing,” the computer said primly. “Primary stats in thirty seconds.”

“Be done with what?” Gracchus’s voice had the ring of cold, naked steel behind it.

Kerickson kept his eyes on the bank of screens and hoped that the sweat running down his temple wasn’t visible across the room. “Hey. I’m just doing my job, and I’d a hell of a lot rather be home with my feet up, but it’s in your hands—do you want Mars rampaging through the city again tomorrow or can I finish running these diagnostics?”

“All four-thousand-level buffers are out of service due to system maintenance,” the computer said. “File allocation tables in ten seconds.”

“How did you get in here?” Gracchus closed the door behind him. “I gave strict orders I wasn’t to be disturbed!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Kerickson studied the screens for all he was worth as the file allocation tables came up. Then he looked more closely. HabiTek files were showing an unusual amount of activity in the financial sector, over seventy percent filled at the moment. The last time he’d run a check, not more than two months ago, that sector had had closer to thirty percent usage.

An iron hand clamped down on his shoulder and pulled him around from behind “When I ask a question, I expect an answer!” The fingers bit into his flesh.

“Hey, watch it!” Kerickson pulled away and rubbed his shoulder. “Save the rough stuff for the players who pay for it!”

Gracchus took a fistful of his tunic and yanked him against his armored chest. “Who sent you?”

Kerickson groped for an answer, then remembered the man who had been there a few minutes earlier—what had Gracchus called him? “The short guy, you know. He just left.”

Gracchus’s hold loosened a fraction. “Publius Barbus? That insipid excuse for a worm doesn’t know the first thing about computers.”

“Of course not.” Kerickson eased his tunic out of Gracchus’s fist. “That’s why I’m here.” Smoothing the wrinkled material, he tried to look bored. “Now, can I get on with it, or are you going to waste more of my time?”

The strong-nosed face stared from Kerickson to the Interface, then back again. Gracchus’s mouth tightened into a grim, disapproving line. “I’m overdue at the Palace.”

“So?” Kerickson slid back into place before the console and punched up a new set of stats. “Go on. I can find my way out.” The inside of his tunic was glued to his body by cold sweat.

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