Steel World by B. V. Larson Read Free Book Online Page A

centurion eyed me for a moment longer, then nodded as if satisfied. After he left, Carlos came up to me and shook his head.
    “The Great James McGill!” he shouted, throwing up his arms in a victory salute. His tone wasn’t mocking, however. He didn’t sneer; he seemed bemused, like he didn’t quite know what to make of me.
    “I guess I owe you for coming back to get me,” he said.
    I shrugged. “It wasn’t real.”
    “Yeah, it was. Plenty of guys died for God’s sake! The more I think about it, I’m realizing it was worse than it will ever be again. We didn’t know that the disks we gave them when we boarded the transport had all our data, enough for a revival. As I passed out, I thought I’d been permed. It will never be that bad again. From now on, whenever I die, I’ll know I’m probably coming back.”
    I nodded thoughtfully. “You’re right about that. I figured we were screwed, too.”
    “What did you see when you opened the door?”
    “Centurion Graves. He was just standing there, and he gave me the thumbs-up when I got it open at last.”
    “What a smug dick,” Carlos said, laughing and shaking his head. “So Graves was watching us the whole time? He didn’t lift a finger to help? I can’t believe he had the gall to just let us all die while he sat in there. You’re sure about this?”
    “Looked that way.”
    Carlos’ face shifted as he thought about it. He looked more serious than he ever had. “I owe you, buddy. I owe you.”
    “Owe me what?”
    “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll jump on a grenade for you one day. It will be something cool like that. You’ll see.”
    Somehow, I had my doubts that Carlos would do that when the time came, but I appreciated the thought.

    -4-
     
    War in my time was different than in the past. For one thing, it was more regulated. I’d learned in school that the Galactic rulers had decided long ago they couldn’t directly govern thousands of worlds with alien populations. While humanity was still squatting in trees, the Galactics had decided it was best to invent a simple set of ground rules for their empire and enforce them vigorously.
    The Galactics weren’t a single species themselves. They were made up of the original elder peoples, mostly from the galactic center, where stars and planets were very close together. That core group that ran the Empire had battle fleets, but no one on Earth had seen one for more than fifty years. The fleets themselves were reported to be vast, but usually they were only used as a show of force.
    They’d come to my planet in 2052, long before I was born, and they’d delivered an ultimatum. It was same choice they’d given to every other species they’d discovered to be experimenting with space flight: humanity must join the Galactic Empire, if we could qualify for membership. In return, we’d be given a wealth of technology and access to interplanetary trade. They made it clear that this was not an annexation—not exactly. We would be allowed to run our own planet pretty much however we wished. Internal matters were none of their affair. From their point of view, we were a primitive wild species that had always been within their sphere of influence. We were akin to an anthill in a wilderness preserve. They couldn’t care less who was queen of our anthill, or who had mistreated whom. In their eyes, we’d only just become advanced enough to bother with.
    The ultimatum wasn’t entirely positive, however. If we refused membership, or could not qualify for it, our species would be erased from Earth and removed from the cosmos forever. As far as the Galactics were concerned, we were squatters on a planet which they owned. In their minds, they were being generous to offer us membership in their vast union.
    Not left with much choice, humanity had quickly opted to join. There were only two requirements, and they were fairly simple: first, humanity was not permitted to build starships or any other device capable of