Free Code of Conduct by Kristine Smith Page B

idomeni civil war, I killed my commanding officer in self-defense. His name was Rikart Neumann—Colonel—Gisela Detmers-Neumann’s uncle. She and others would perhaps take exception to the self-defense argument, but since they’re aware of the events that precipitated the shoot-out, they may not dare voice such .
    â€œDo you have anything to declare?”
    The Laumrau panicked when they learned of Neumann’s death . First they lobbed “pink”; the microbe infested and disabled all the weapons, environmental, and communication arrays. Then came the shatterboxes. The Laumrau had secrets to bury, which are none of your concern. All you need know is that, in the process, they buried my corporal. She died when a wall collapsed on her. Corporal Yolan Cray, Mainline Service, Twelfth Rover Corps, C-number M-four-seven-dash-five-six-dash-two-eight-six-R .
    â€œI’m ready, miss—please continue.”
    One idomeni day later, I killed twenty-six Laumrau in an effort to save my remaining troops. The deaths were not “clean” as far as the Laumrau were concerned. No human had ever become involved in one of their skirmishes before—the resulting disorder upset them. Since I had violated the Bilateral Accord, the Service would have turned me over tothe idomeni for trial followed by inevitable execution, but —
    â€œI’m sorry, miss, could you speak up, please?”
    â€” but the transport carrying me and my troops from Knevçet Shèràa to Rauta Shèràa exploded on takeoff . Lift-array failure. Everyone gone. All her real soldiers. I know their C-numbers, too . All fourteen of them. Do you want to hear them, too ?
    â€œThat’s not necessary, ma’am. Please continue.”
    I, however, did not die . Not medically, anyway. Three doctors salvaged me from the wreckage, for reasons that would shock you to your core. They pieced me together and hid me in a hospital basement in Rauta Shèràa’s human enclave. As I healed, the tide of civil war turned, and the Laumrau lost to the Vynshà . Laumrau descended to Laum, and Vynshà ascended to Vynshàrau. No one fights to avenge the deaths of the losers, not even the well-ordered idomeni.
    But they remembered. They called her kièrshia , she’d learned later. Toxin. You don’t want to allow me within your perimeter—everything I touch dies .
    â€œDo you have anything to declare?”
    The pennies on my eyes .
    â€œDo you have anything to declare?” The smiling Customs clerk stationed himself beside Jani’s chair, recording board in hand, beaming in a way that reminded her of Lucien.
    â€œJust these.” Jani removed some pieces of truesilver jewelry, purchased in a hurried swoop through a pricey Felix Station shop, from the side pocket of her duffel. With cheerful efficiency, the clerk scanned the information from the still-attached price tags into his board’s data bank and totaled the tariff. Jani just as cheerfully rattled off the Interior account to which the tariff could be billed.
    Rule One: Always have something hefty to declare to throw them off . Transaction completed, receipt tucked away, Jani settled back and watched the construction workers hover and dart like metallic bees around a skeletal hive. Take it from an old smuggler . She sipped the tea, winced at its bitterness, and waited for her boarding call.
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    â€œAdmit it, Jani. You’d never seen anything like it in your life. All those old skyscrapers! All that history!” Evan bustledher out onto the glass-walled balcony that adjoined his office and pointed out his view, which included both the Chicago skyline and the nearby lake. “I hope you got a chance to see the memorial to the Greatest War on the way in.”
    Jani took in the curious array of oddly shaped buildings, all obscured by wind-whipped snow. “You mean ‘The War of Family Aggression,’ don’t