The Impossible Future: Complete set by Frank Kennedy (mini ebook reader .txt) 📕

to. Provide a strong enough onslaught to keep the peacekeepers on the defensive, take heavy losses, then move closer in for the kill, and attack with long blades made of a metal capable of penetrating the bodysuit.

When the smoke cleared, he fired. The rhythmic vibrations of the blast rifle energized his soul and heated his blood. He saw the suicidal madness in the eyes of his enemy: a realization they could not win but intent to claim many prizes before defeat. James would not let that happen. He aimed and fired with abandon, bodies contorting as his flash pegs exploded within them. He stepped across rubble into their territory, and they turned on him.

Again and again he fired. Again and again they fell. They swung blades to the end, within range of James, coming from behind. He used the rifle to repel a blade before it cut him beneath the ribs. It was a madness with limits, for soon there were no more enemies. Only silence amid the smoke and rubble.

“End.”

He heard Valentin’s voice, and just as quickly the simulation closed down. But the adrenalin remained, as did the perspiration inside that suit and the echoes of a blast rifle in full combat mode tweaking the muscles in his right forearm.

They stood in the center of the silent chamber. Valentin tapped his helmet, which folded back over his head. James followed suit.

“Good choice,” Valentin said. “The claustrophobic engagements, those are the ones where you have the highest chance of casualties. We lost the other team leader. His helmet disruption allowed a tracer through. The man I folded in for was also hurt but he only needed a week in rehab then returned to duty. So, what do you think, brother?”

“Damnation.” He studied the console. “You say there’s three hundred years of battles in here?”

“From thirty-four colonies.”

“How much time did they give us?”

“Chamber belongs to us for as many hours as we need.”

“Music to my ears. Let’s play.”

And they did—for more than six hours, eighteen engagements, eleven different worlds. They faced open warfare in the desert, invaded insurgent camps deep inside tropical jungles, conducted Scorch campaigns that left no survivors, rescued hostages aboard a ship on stormy seas, assassinated political opponents threatening to topple a Sanctum-supported government, escorted refugees from a battle zone while taking sniper fire, and killed illegal arms manufacturers. As they danced from world to world and generation to generation, Valentin showed James the range of peacekeeper responsibilities. They were a mishmash of warriors, butchers, rescuers, hitmen, and guardians. Between engagements and looking behind that mental curtain, James asked:

“Do peacekeepers fight other people’s wars?”

“Yes. We usually settle local disputes. There have been some attempts to defy the UG directly, but the indigos can’t win those battles, so they don’t try. At least not until recently. It’s our mandate in The Foundation Treaty. Colonial governments have limited military powers, so we swoop in and take care of their ugliest business. In exchange, we remain stationed on Ark Carriers around every colony, and the Chancellory takes a healthy stake on profits involving planetary natural resources.”

“So, a cut of their economy for killing the bad guys.”

Valentin nodded. “The indigos couldn’t protect themselves without us. We’ve killed millions over the centuries. We keep them in line, and they respect the power of the Chancellory.”

“But you said some have tried to take you on.”

“Fools. Radicals. They think we’ve weakened since… well, since the fall of Hiebimini. Since we lost brontinium production, these indigo bastards think the Chancellory will stop producing soldiers. They’re positioning themselves for a future they’ll never claim.”

James selected Hiebimini from among the planet options, but no tactical engagements appeared.

“You won’t find our history with the Hiebim,” Valentin said. “It’s long and bloody, but the admiralty removed it before I was born.”

“Why? Hiebimini is painful to the Chancellors, but why remove everything?”

“The official line? There’s no point. After Hiebimini fell, the planet died. We evacuated almost every civilian. Other than a few radicals, nobody lives there anymore. There have been rumors. Some say the planet was terraformed. Others say it’s a barren rock. No matter. The system has been under UG blockade for twenty-five years. No one gets within five hundred thousand kilometers of the planet.”

This did not jibe with the history James cobbled together from Lydia the Mentor, Perrone, his newfound database, or the Jewel inside him calling itself Ignatius Horne. Or greater importance, he remembered his last conversation with Deputy Ignatius Horne, minutes before the observers killed him in Albion:

“I was named after a great man whose courage and ultimate sacrifice changed the course of human history,” the deputy said moments before he was killed. “I have tried to carry myself with the same honor and dedication to a selfless cause, and I hope that will be my legacy.”

The Jewel also praised the original man, claiming that “he and I, together” brought down the Chancellors. “He was a good man who found redemption at the end.”

James searched his database and found no cross-references to Ignatius Horne and Hiebimini. What the hell?

“Where I came from,” James told his brother, “people would hear about a blockade like that and ask, ‘What are they trying to hide?’ What have you heard?”

“My generation grew up after the blockade. We’ve never cared.”

James wanted to say, “Maybe you should,” but he held off. They were having fun, and he was learning too much about soldiering to focus on a puzzle he couldn’t yet solve. Instead, he asked:

“Where next?”

Valentin chose a new world; their simulated battles continued.

Yet with every new engagement, as hard as James focused, he felt an itch called Hiebimini. Patience, he told himself. Bigger damn fish to fry right now.

After eight hours in the simulators, they put away their weapons and entered the ReCon tubes, where they re-uniformed into