Terminus (Fringe Worlds #1) by Kevin Hardman Read Free Book Online Page A

stop it.”
    “Stop what?” Dr. Chantrey asked, seemingly surprised.
    “Stop trying to psychoanalyze me,” Maker replied. “Quit trying to push my buttons.”
    The doctor shook her head. “I’m not–”
    “Sure you are,” Maker said. “But back to the subject at hand. I’m not wild about the idea of being the military’s scapegoat again if things go sideways.”
    “What if we sweeten the pot a little?” Kroner asked.
    Maker’s eyes narrowed. “I’m listening,” he said.
    “Before your last mission,” the general said, “you applied to the officer’s program and were accepted. Of course, all of that got put on hold after you came back. And then you…left the service.”
    Maker nodded, almost dumbly. So much had happened in the aftermath of his return from that last mission that he had practically forgotten about this last thing, that he had applied to become an officer.
    “What are you saying?” Maker asked.
    “I’m saying that we’ll go ahead and push the paperwork through,” the general stated. “You won’t just be coming back to the Marines, but you’ll be coming back an officer. Something you always wanted.”
    Maker blinked, the general’s offer clearly catching him by surprise.
    “One question before I decide,” Maker said. “Why me?”
    “Frankly speaking,” Browing said, “you’re the only human being who’s ever seen these things – the Vacra.”
    “Wrong,” Maker declared, shaking his head. “I’m just the only one who’s ever seen them and lived to tell about it.”
    “Be that as it may,” Dr. Chantrey said, “you’ve got the most experience with them, which – along with your military training, knowledge, and skill – makes you the most qualified to lead this mission.”
    Maker frowned, seeming to mull things over. “Alright, let’s say I accept,” he said after a moment. “I’ll need a team–”
    “Already taken care of,” Browing interjected. He pulled a p-comp from a pocket and extended the palm-sized computer to Maker. “If you take a look at the profiles on the screen there, you’ll see that we’ve assembled a select task force to–”
    “No thanks,” Maker said, cutting Browing off as he returned the man’s p-comp, having spent no more than a moment glancing at the information on its monitor. “If I’m going to do this, there are some conditions you have to meet, the first one being that Erlen comes with me.”
    “Done,” Kroner declared with a nod.
    Of course, that one was pretty easy and expected. Even before he got railroaded out of the Marines, anyone acquainted with him knew that he didn’t go anywhere without the Niotan. However, he felt the need to make it clear that Erlen was part of the deal.
    “Next,” Maker said, “I pick my own team.”
    “Agreed,” Kroner stated.
    “Now wait just a minute,” Browing said, clearly not happy. “This is a high-level mission requiring people who–”
    “It’s fine,” the general said, cutting Browing off with a wave of his hand. He turned his attention back to Maker. “What else?”
    Maker took a deep breath. “I want eclipse authority,” he announced.
    The room went silent. Maker’s visitors exchanged telling, knowing glances. His last request was a big one; eclipse authority meant that he would have the privilege and prerogative to exceed his mission parameters whenever and however he liked. It was a literal license to do whatever he wanted, no matter how unlawful, unethical, or unscrupulous. It was usually granted to only the most trusted of individuals on the most important of missions. In fact, only three people were ever alleged to have received it since Homo sapiens began their expansion across the stars.
    After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Browing opened his mouth to say something, but Dr. Chantrey spoke up first.
    “I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head, “but we can’t do that. No one here has the power to grant you eclipse authority, or even promise