Althea shook her head. “We’re dealing with someone who’s just smart enough to follow orders and not shoot himself in the foot. That doesn’t leave a lot of room for analytical thinking. If there were soldiers out there, he would have told us he was alone. Now come on, Viekko is still several kilometers away.”
Cronus went to the crawler and pulled his backpack out of the wreckage. It was scorched but looked mostly unharmed. “What was that, Althea? Why did they attack us?”
Althea looked around her. “I don’t know. Obviously someone didn’t want us to get to Viekko. I should call Isra.”
She pulled up her sleeve to activate the display on her EROS suit. Cronus, moving at a speed Althea had hitherto thought him incapable, jumped to his feet and grabbed her arm.
He looked down at the EROS computer as if he had just temporarily disarmed a bomb. “Those soldiers knew our path. They knew where we were and where we were going to be. This forest is huge. How did they know that?”
Althea pulled her arm away and looked at the blank display on her arm. “The tracking signal on our EROS suit?”
“They have hacked into our signal. It’s the only way they would know our position with that level of accuracy.”
“If we disable the tracking signal, Viekko and Isra will have no idea if we are alive or dead.”
Cronus looked at the drugged marine. “Neither will they.”
“With no relay, we can’t contact anyone. And how would we find Viekko?”
Cronus activated the display on his arm. “I can disable the transceiver in the suit. We can still use Viekko’s last known position.”
Althea looked up at the ringed planet in the sky. “And Saturn doesn’t move which will make it easy to walk in a straight line.” She looked down at the display screen. “We’ll need to move fast. Viekko will think we are dead or in trouble if he can’t see our signal. There’s no telling what horrors he will get up to then.”
Viekko sat at a wooden banquet table almost twenty meters long, staring at a hunk of charred meat on a stick while his mind drifted farther away. This room inside the ship was cavernous. It was possibly the cargo hold or even a stripped-out engine room. It was large enough to house five long tables each seating upwards of twenty to thirty Perfiduloi with room to spare all eating meat from skewers and drinking some black fermented fruit drink. Light streamed in through a series of windows high above their heads.
Viekko closed his eyes and tried to focus on the here and now. A few moments ago, he thought he was sitting at the family table just after his mother’s funeral on Mars. Before that, he pictured himself in the Colony Defense Force mess hall looking at something unidentifiable on a metal platter. Before that, a small round table in a Rio club looking at a drink changing colors right in front of his eyes.
Each time he had to force his mind back to the present. He was here on Titan. Surrounded by a hundred Perfiduloi warriors all tearing big chunks of mammoth meat from the sticks with their teeth. After that was done, there was going to be some kind of trial. At which point they were probably going to kill Carr, Viekko or both of them.
He pulled up his sleeve to contact Isra again. He whispered just under his breath, “Anything yet?”
There was a long pause before he heard Isra’s voice over the earpiece. “Nothing. I have made some inquiries with Laban’s people but that is not likely to get us anywhere. The Houston is not willing to send any of his people outside the walls. I hate to say it, but you are on your own.”
Viekko swallowed hard. “Is she dead?”
“We do not know anything yet. It could be an equipment malfunction or her signal dropped or is somewhere out of satellite line-of-sight. Viekko, listen carefully. You need to think about yourself now. Get yourself to safety and then, we will worry about Althea and Cronus.”
Viekko sighed. “Understood.”
Carr, sitting next to him, took a big bite of meat. “S’matter Viekko? Not hungry?”
Viekko looked at the hunk of meat again. Somewhere he felt vague pangs of hunger poking out through the Haze, but they were too far away. What little grasp he had on reality at the moment was entirely focused on Althea.
Carr took another bite. “I wouldn’t worry about your friends. They got rerouted.”
Viekko slowly turned his head. “Say that again.”
Carr gave Viekko a smug, grease-covered grin. “I said they got rerouted. We managed to isolate your private signal before you even left base camp. You didn’t think we’d just let you traipse all over this moon unsupervised, did you? They are safe. I just needed to make sure they didn’t interfere. Are you going to eat that?”
The world around Viekko got sharper. It wasn’t as good as a shard of triple-T, but the thought of pulling the hunk of meat from his skewer and stabbing Carr in the eye sharpened him up enough to appreciate his surroundings.
Halifaco sat at a table nearby and at the head of the room with two older men on either side. These elders clearly commanded some respect and reverence from the rest of the society. While the rest of the hall sat closely packed and conversed and joked as they ate these five ate in silence. When one of them finished the meat in front of them, someone appeared with a fresh skewer. When they finished their mug somebody arrived to fill it from their own.
Every once in a while, Halifaco raised his head as if judging the mood of the crowd. Then, once he judged the time right, he drained his ceramic mug and banged it hard on the table. The room went silent; more silent than before.
Halifaco launched into a speech in his native language. From the inflection and tone it sounded like the man was calling down fire and brimstone. The wrath of the gods, blood of infidels; the entirety of religious righteousness and wrath distilled into pure speech.
When he was done, he motioned to Carr and Viekko. “You will both be allowed to speak. Since you do not speak our language, I will tell them all what you are saying. Which of you will speak first?”
Carr looked sideways at Viekko and smiled. “Well, since my friend here is a little reluctant, I will start.”
Carr stood up. As he began speaking, Halifaco translated for the assembled crowd. “My friends. I just want you all to know that I’m as shocked and saddened as you are that this whole thing went as terribly as it did. I mourn those who lost their lives in the service of the Kompanio as much as you do. I underestimated the enemy, I will admit to that. And, for what it is worth, I am sorry.”
This was not good, thought Viekko. Most Corporation marines were a group of barely-functioning, monosyllabic sociopaths. But the one time he needed a man to live down to that ideal, he turned into a damned orator.
Carr paused for a moment to let Halifaco catch up and continued. “Now, you all are suspicious and rightly so. If you weren’t, you’d be damn fools. I’ve been accused by this man,” he gestured to Viekko, “of purposefully misleading you all gathered here today. I’ve been accused of knowingly leading brave warriors to death or enslavement. Furthermore, I’ve been accused of breaking my promise regarding the refineries. But, where was this man while this was going on? He was in The City working with the Houston and all the others to destroy the Kompanio. He was seen on the battlefield killing your warriors. He gets captured, so what does he do? He lies.” Carr turned to Viekko and smiled. It was a smug, knowing expression. “He lies to save himself. He lies to further cripple your efforts to free yourself from the tyranny of the Houston.”
He turned back to the crowd, “We all know what side he is on. So the only real question is about me. I’ve brought you tools to help free yourselves. Since me and my people have taken the refineries, not one wisp of smoke has risen from them.”
Carr sat down clearly satisfied. There was an expectant silence as the five elders at the front of the room talked among themselves. Then Viekko realized everyone was looking at him. He stood up and stared into the silent crowd. The rage helped sharpen his brain, but it was still hard to put coherent thoughts together. He stood there for so long
a few began whispering.
Halifaco cocked his head. “Do you have something to say?”
Viekko started slurring, “This…thing. This fight, you think it’s still between you and the Urbanoi. But it ain’t. Not anymore. You’ve got something new to fight, and it ain’t like anything you’ve ever seen. The people that have come to this moon, they intend to take everything from you. Maybe not at first, but they will. First they will come as friends and allies. They will offer to help you defeat your enemies. And they will. By the time those men are done, the city will be rubble and every last soul either dead or enslaved. And, once they finish with them, you will lose your usefulness and will become a threat. Then it is too late, you will share the fate of your enemy.”
As Halifaco finished translating, the people at the table stirred and talked among themselves with urgency in their voices.
Carr saw it too and he stood up. “More outrageous lies! Do you have any proof of this?”
Viekko pulled up his jacket sleeve and activated the display on the arm of his Eros suit. There was still no sign of Althea or Cronus.
He gritted his teeth and looked up at the crowd again. “Proof? Yeah, I had proof. I had proof from the City itself but that man didn’t want you to see it. So he went and made sure of that.”
Carr raised his arms in the air. “This is ridiculous! He doesn’t have any proof. It’s all just lies and—”
“You had your chance to speak,” said Halifaco. “It is time for you to be silent.” He turned to Viekko. “Do you have any proof of what you claim?”
Viekko fought through the Haze to grasp onto something, anything to convince these people. He had nothing tangible, so he had to appeal to something else. Something these people would accept without proof.
“The Kompanio!” Viekko exclaimed.
The elders whispered among themselves and one at the end said, “What did you say?”
“You are right, I have no proof. But I speak the truth and the Kompanio knows it. So let me prove it. Let me fight him,” said Viekko, nodding toward Sergeant Carr.
As Halifaco translated this to the crowd, Carr laughed. “You are not serious. You’re injured. I’d kill you in a second.”
Viekko looked at the crowd. They became more and more excited as Halifaco finished the translation. He smiled, “You’re right, I can’t possibly defeat you in battle.” He turned back to Halifaco. “Not without help from the Kompanio.”
Halifaco paused for a moment and, again, the five elders talked among themselves. While they did, excitement built in the hall until Viekko could feel it vibrating his bones.
Halifaco stood up and spoke to the crowd. Whatever he said was exactly what they wanted to hear. A cheer went up along with the clatter of the ceramic mugs beaten against the wooden tables. Viekko looked at Carr who had a self-satisfied grin on his face.
When the commotion died down, Halifaco spoke to Viekko and Carr at the table. “Judgment has been made. You are wise to put your trust in Kompanio, Viekko. The Elders agree that, if you speak true, the Kompanio will give you strength.”
Viekko grinned and leaned back. Through the rage and the Haze it all made a strange kind of sense. It was a win-win. If he could fight and triumph, he could make his escape and rescue Althea. If she was still alive. If he died, Althea and Cronus would be useless to the Corporation. Carr was a bastard, but he didn’t kill for fun. He’d let them go if they had no further value to him. Either way, Althea would be safe and Viekko could die honorably in battle.
He watched the crowd get up and start to file outside to watch the fight.
It was a perfect win-win.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Any person or government that attacks everyone out of fear of being surrounded by enemies, soon finds their suspicions correct.
-from The Fall: The Decline and Failure of 21st Century Civilization by Martin Raffe.
Viekko found himself back in the wide clearing outside the ancient derelict ship, surrounded by a circle of yelling, chanting, and cheering Perfiduloi people.
Viekko focused on the chants and yells in the Titanian language. It sounded like a thousand people speaking in tongues. They shook their fists and danced in little circles while their furs whirled around them. It was as if he and Sergeant Carr were surrounded by a pack of tall, hairy demons crying for their damnation.
Carr was on the opposite side of the circle. He took off his blue Corporation-issued coat, stripped down to the tight-fitting black EROS suit, and boxed the air to warm up his muscles. Every once in a while he’d flash a menacing grin at Viekko like a cat sizing up a three-legged mouse.
Viekko followed suit, taking off his white coat and shoulder holster and placing them in a pile just beyond the edge of the circle. There was a ruddy stain of mostly dried blood about the size of a softball where the shrapnel hit him. The Haze dulled the pain but, as he stretched, he could feel a tugging or pulling on the wound. It was useful in a way. He could focus on that to keep his mind grounded.
Halifaco stepped into the middle of the circle and gave some kind of grand speech. Something with big inflections and wild hand gestures. The crowd worked themselves up getting more and more manic with every word. Viekko got the impression that the Perfiduloi leader spent a decent portion of his life haranguing the masses. When he was done, he walked over to Viekko and pressed his palm to the Martian’s forehead. “May Kompanio grant you strength, Viekko.”
He crossed the circle and did the same to Carr. After that, he joined the rest of the spectators gathered in the circle. Just like that, the fight was on. Carr walked to the middle of the circle and Viekko went to meet him.
As soon as Viekko raised his fists, Carr launched forward with a jab. Viekko stepped back and slapped it away. Carr repeated the jab and, again, Viekko slapped it away and followed with a right cross. Carr staggered back a moment and launched forward with a flurry of punches. Viekko barely had time to react before a punch connected with his cheek and sent him sprawling to the mud.
Somewhere just beyond the Haze, he felt his jaw throbbing. The crowd yelled, clapped, and danced even more as Viekko got to his feet. He locked eyes with Sergeant Carr and put up his hands.
During that first volley, Carr might have been sizing him up. Or maybe he was just playing to the crowd. This time he went for Viekko’s weakest point. He got close enough for Viekko to throw a couple short jabs. As soon as he did, Carr stepped to the right and landed a firm punch right in his shrapnel wound.
Viekko felt something sharp scrape and tear against something soft somewhere in his guts. Lights flashed in his head. He dropped his hands to cover his wound and screamed like a man unhinged. Carr landed three more punches, two to the gut and one to the face, and Viekko fell back into the mud.
Maybe the punch pushed the little piece of metal farther in. Maybe something vital was ripped to shreds and he was going to bleed out right here. Either way, the pain was excruciating. It kept his mind on this world before, but now it was like focusing on the sun at the height of noon, too intense to manage for long. So he let his mind slide away.
Then he was standing outside his own body. He watched Sergeant Carr raise his fists and parade around the ring in victory while the crowd cheered. Halifaco ran into the circle and knelt beside Viekko’s body.
Viekko tried to will his body to get up and fight. He screamed curses inside his own head. Get up, you mori omkhii baas kheregtie, get up and fight!
His body pushed itself off the ground, got its feet underneath him, and stood. Carr waved his fists and shouted at the crowd. He didn’t notice that Viekko was up and staggering toward him.
Viekko’s body lurched into such a wild, clumsy attack—it was somewhere between a roundhouse and a windmill punch—that the soldier would have seen it coming had he been paying attention. As it was, Viekko’s fist managed to connect with the back of Carr’s neck.
The punch did little more than make Carr angry. He turned and threw a series of punches at Viekko’s b
ody. In this state, Viekko didn’t have fine muscle control, not enough to defend himself. Carr might as well have been tenderizing a huge slab of meat in a butcher shop. When Viekko’s body finally fell, it just crumpled backwards as if some unseen force holding it up ceased to exist.
Viekko tried to will his body up again and managed to get into a sitting position. But Carr kicked Viekko back to the ground, put his knee on his chest and started pummeling his head.
When he was done, Viekko’s face looked like it had been sucked into a plasma jet engine. As Carr got up and walked away, he tried to will his body up one more time, but it wouldn’t budge. He felt his mind slipping into a deeper Haze. The yells and chants of the crowd, the dark green foliage, and the black mud all faded into white.
Then, he was back in his apartment in Rio. Everything around him was fuzzy shades of white and grey but he somehow knew where he was as if in a dream. He was laying down naked while another body, just a different colored blur among the rest, rode on top of him.
Then he heard a voice. It was sweet, lilting and screaming in ecstasy. It was Althea and she was screaming his name: “Viekko!”
Pieces of the memory started to come into focus. The bright city lights streaming in through the window, the creaking of old bed springs and Althea in all her glory, tossing her fiery red hair back as she closed her eyes.
“Oh...Viekko!”
As far as memories go, this was a good one to end his life on. It was the last perfect night Viekko could remember. After that, everything went so horribly wrong that his inevitable death on some God forsaken planet was inevitable.
Althea’s voice changed from the breathy squeal of sexual ecstasy to something harsh and urgent. “Viekko!”
The memory started to fade even as he tried to hold on to it. The fine details he managed to pick out faded away.
“Viekko!”
New sounds filled his surroundings, like a hundred people all talking and shouting at once. It was as if he’d been dropped into the middle of an angry mob.
Saturnius Mons (Ruins of Empire Book 1) Page 20