Machine World (Undying Mercenaries Book 4) by B. V. Larson Page A

Harris turned, ripped the knife out of his own back, and ran down his attacker with it. I followed at a safe distance to watch what transpired with morbid curiosity.
    Harris cut the man to ribbons with my knife. All the while, he bled profusely and released a steady stream of profanity.
    Harris turned to face me at last. His sides were heaving, and his body was slick with sweat and blood.
    “Whatever possessed you to attack your superiors yet again, McGill?” he asked me in a hoarse voice. “You have to know you’re disqualified now.”
    “Well Vet,” I said, “I guess I just didn’t understand this contest from the beginning.”
    Harris began laughing. It was a hitching, gasping, gargling sound. He shook his head and sighed. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that boy?”
    “Yeah, I guess I do.”
    Harris slumped forward. He looked surprised, like he was going to vomit or something. Then he slipped onto his face in the water. A few last bubbling, bloody snorts came out of him—then he died. It was blood loss that done the trick, if I had to guess.
    Uncertain as to where this left matters, I retrieved my knife, wiped it clean, and walked up the path.
    When I got the top I was met by four officers. Centurion Graves, Adjunct Leeson, Adjunct Toro, and Adjunct Mesa were all standing up there together. I realized they must have watched the trial from the edge of the cliff surrounding the canyon.
    Swaying a bit, I saluted the group.
    “Specialist McGill reporting, sirs.”
    “Don’t you mean Veteran McGill?” asked Adjunct Leeson.
    “That’s ridiculous,” Adjunct Toro snapped, her face was red and her teeth were clenched in anger. “McGill didn’t follow instructions.”
    “Hell,” Leeson said, “he never does that.”
    “Well, I vote that he be disqualified,” Toro said. She’d never liked me much, so I wasn’t surprised.
    Graves turned toward the last adjunct. “What do you think, Mesa?”
    Mesa looked me over like he smelled bad meat. “I don’t think I want this man as a veteran in our unit,” he said.
    My heart sank, but I stood there, resolute. If they were going to kick me back to specialist, I wasn’t going to cry and whine about it. Sure, the game had been rigged. There’d been no way I could win outright with the vets distributing weapons to the other contestants. But complaints weren’t going to convince anyone to change their verdict.
    Graves shook his head thoughtfully. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to overrule the majority of my adjuncts in this instance,” he said. “For me, the deciding factor came to light when the last candidate attacked Harris. It was apparent through that action that he believed the fight to the death announced by Harris included the veterans themselves.”
    “Not so,” Adjunct Toro piped up again, “all that proves is that McGill’s bizarre actions confused everyone.”
    Graves shrugged. “You’ve got a valid complaint. But the fact is, and you can check the vid recordings to back this up, Harris did say the last man to walk out of that canyon alive would be a veteran. He did not specify that the veterans themselves were not participants. I don’t think any of you can argue that McGill isn’t the last man standing.”
    The two who voted against me grumbled but didn’t say anything else.
    “McGill?” Graves asked, turning to me. “What have you got to say for yourself?”
    “Well sir,” I said, “you described the situation pretty well. Harris inserted himself into the contest when he began to distribute weapons at random to the candidates. At least, that’s how I saw it.”
    Graves nodded. “Very well. As far as I’m concerned, you’re our newest man with the honorable rank of veteran. Congratulations.”
    He reached out a gloved hand, and I shook it.
    Just like that, I’d achieved a new rank. I knew there would be no love lost between Harris, myself, and the rest of the noncoms, but I didn’t much care. They’d never been