Billister decided he couldn’t trust any of them. “You three.” He pointed at a group of thugs looming over a pair of miners fixing a conveyor belt. “Come with me. We have a job to do.”
One of the thugs pointed at the men and then his own eyes. “I’m watching you,” he growled.
The miners tried to ignore him as they worked to get the belt running.
“Come on!” Billister shouted and stormed off. “Mental midgets,” he grumbled to himself.
When they reached the top, a vehicle with darkened windows was waiting. They climbed in and the driver left, not asking for a destination. He had already been told where to take them.
A sketchy warehouse on the outskirts of town, where they had to build a couple of devices before nightfall. That was when the real work would begin.
“How long is it going to take for the leaders to arrive?” Rivka asked, gripping the president’s arm to see his answers so he didn’t have to speak. Red had put duct tape over his mouth because the Ledonian appeared to be genetically incapable of telling the truth. “They should be here anytime now.”
The president struggled against his bonds. Red shook him until he stopped.
“What’s the matter? You don’t want the people to see you like this? Let me break it to you gently. I’m a Federation Magistrate. You’re in my custody because you broke the law. You’re not on trial because you’ve already been judged and found wanting. At this point, you are a convict, but I’m letting you hang around because you have information I need. I’m glad that I can get it from you without having to listen to your perpetual stream of lies. How can you live with yourself?”
“Psychotic?” Jay offered.
That’s what I was thinking. Any idea when I can get out of this thing? Lindy asked.
Ankh? Rivka checked in with the Crenellian.
Pandora Express. The ship went to Amberstrom. From there, it went through a series of Gates with a final destination of Capstan. It should have arrived there within the past day.
Red’s eyes narrowed, and his face turned hard.
“Well then, no time to dawdle,” she told the president, who had no idea what she meant. She cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled, “Come on, people! Chop, chop!”
Red couldn’t see anyone out there. It was still too early in the morning for light. The president mumbled through the tape.
“What?” Rivka asked, exasperated. She put her hand on the side of his face. “They might attack us? That would be a mistake.”
What do you see, Ankh? Rivka requested.
There are vehicles converging on your position. Most are only lightly armed, but there is a heavily armed unit coming down the main corridor in front of you.
If they want to play hardball, finish them.
What is the hardball trigger for action? Ankh wondered.
Rivka stopped for a moment and considered. “Red, we have a military unit coming at us. At what point does Peacekeeper turn them into a smoking hole?”
“They might be skeptical of the request. I hate to say it, but if they shoot first?” Red shrugged and walked to Lindy.
“That’s what I was thinking.” Ankh, the trigger is if they shoot first. The second that happens, destroy them.
Lindy moved to a better position across the street to give her a flanking view of the approaching unit.
The first to arrive came from the side streets and drove up to the barricade. Two Ledonians jumped out, using their doors as shields as they took aim. Rivka figured the leader was inside. She strolled into the remnants of the defense. With Red at her side, she crossed her arms and waited.
No one moved.
“Who’s here to talk about peace?”
“I am!” the Ledonian shouted from inside the vehicle.
“I’m Magistrate Rivka Anoa. Come out here and talk to me.”
“I’m Treacher. How can I trust you?”
“Do you trust the one who claims to be the president?”
“Hell, no!”
Rivka pointed with her chin and Red grabbed the president by the arm, pushed him into an overturned car, and leaned on him, squeezing him between Red’s large frame and the vehicle.
“Neither do I, and that’s why I’m conducting the negotiations.”
“How do I know you won’t kill me?”
“You’d already be dead,” Rivka replied with the old adage. “Come on out, and we’ll shake hands. The sooner we start, the sooner this world can get back to normal.”
Treacher left the vehicle, ordering his security to stand down before striding purposefully to the Magistrate. He thrust out his hand.
“Are you going to negotiate in good faith?” Rivka asked as she grabbed his hand. Confusion jumped into his mind. Anger boiled, but seeing the president trussed like the criminal he was provided a spark of comfort.
“Of course,” the Ledonian replied. “I don’t know what normal is for Leed’s Planet anymore.”
“It’ll be a new normal. I can work with you. Thanks for putting your anger aside to do what’s right for your people.”
A second vehicle raced into the area, then slowly circled. It parked next to the first visitor. No security appeared, just a young Ledonian woman. She made a rude gesture to those waiting in the vehicle before marching straight up to Rivka, dutifully ignoring her counterpart.
“My name is Faith, and I represent the women’s faction,” she stated confidently.
“Are you going to negotiate in good faith?” Rivka asked, and the two shook.
“I will negotiate on behalf of the repressed. I answer only to them.”
Rivka saw the honesty in the female’s mind along with unbridled rage. “Since I’m in charge of the negotiations, you will have an equal voice and equal representation.”
“I want two votes to make up for the way we’ve been treated,” she demanded.
The first Ledonian rolled his eyes and muttered, “Here we go.”
“Shut up, both of you.” Rivka took hold of them by their arms and squeezed. “I said equal. I will tolerate no bullshit, quotas, denigration, or demands. You might want to get behind something. The next group brought a lot of their friends.”
“I demand...” the woman started. Rivka pulled both contenders behind the nearest vehicle and ducked. A tank round thundered down the street and slammed into one of the guard towers.
The air crackled and tingled as energy weapons came from the sky and painted the invaders, exploding their tools of war. Rivka peeked over the barrier at the nearly complete destruction. A second salvo surprised her, but those were precision strikes to clean up the remainder of the small attacking force.
The enemy is destroyed, Ankh reported.
See if the War Axe is available for a visit. This planet will self-destruct if we don’t hang our biggest hammer over their heads. The only reason they’re talking now is because of our firepower and apparent willingness to use it.
Acknowledged, Ankh replied.
Rivka hoped that the Crenellian would tell her what he had been able to arrange, but she expected she’d find out when everyone else did—after the Bad Company’s warship was hovering over the city.
“Who else is coming?” Rivka wondered. “Driver, hand me the microphone, and let’s see who else is out there.”
She made the call and waited. Only one person answered, and that one had witnessed the destruction of his pro-government unit. “I think you’re terrorists, and I will fight you with every fiber of my being.”
Rivka turned away from the vehicle. “What is with the fucking anger? You want to see anger? That!” She pointed at the smoking crater and debris where a coherent military unit had been moments before. “You want more of that? I got more of that.”
I see him, Lindy reported.
Capture him and bring him in, Rivka ordered.
A single round cracked from the mech’s oversized railgun. Lindy pounded through the destruction and around a corner, and a moment later she reappeared carry
ing two struggling Ledonians.
She dumped them unceremoniously on the ground in front of the barricade. Red picked them up and carried them to where the others stood. Treacher’s lip curled and his fists clenched. Faith crossed her arms and snarled.
“I see you’re all friends,” Rivka interjected flippantly. “I’m Magistrate Rivka Anoa.” She thrust out her hand.
The captured soul started to spit, but Red caught his chin and held his mouth shut as he lifted him by his head. “That’s not how you treat a Magistrate,” Red growled into the Ledonian’s ear. “When I put you down, you’re going to play nice, or I will start breaking your bones.”
Red let the upstart’s feet touch the ground, but he kept trying to lunge. Rivka came close and placed her hand on his arm. She recoiled from the rage. “He’s never to see the light of day again. I believe his rational mind is gone.” Rivka walked toward the second captive. “What about you? Is there a shred of decency left?’
She grabbed the young Ledonian. More rage, but he was trying to tamp it down. Fear of the unknown gripped him. “I can work with you. What is unknown will become known. What you fear will be exposed and rendered harmless. This is why we negotiate. This is how we achieve a lasting peace. All of you will feel like no one has won, but the end result will be that the people of Leed’s Planet will survive and start thriving again.”
Red zip-tied the wrists of the angry Ledonian and used more ties to attach him to the president. “Hey you, do you want to die?” The soldier started to back up.
“No,” he replied.
“Then come over here. I have a job for you.” Reluctantly, the soldier approached. “Lock these two up. I’ll be by later to check on them. If they escape, your life is forfeit. Keep them secure, and we’ll all walk away from this.”
“Let’s go inside where we can talk in private. Jay, will you join us please?” Rivka asked. The young woman had been standing to the side and was wearing a long face, but she perked up at being included in helping to shape a better future for a planet tearing itself apart.
Billister had sent the others back to the mine and waited alone in a coffee shop across the street from where the Licensing Board was to convene. He had the impression that they were to meet in the morning but had nothing to confirm that. Billister was prepared to wait as long as it took.
After lunch he took a long walk, always keeping the building in view. He checked in with K’Twillis, who agreed with the course of action. The sun continued through the sky until late afternoon. Billister had his eye on a nearby hotel and was ready to get a room when a series of vehicles showed up, parking out front.
He walked that way briskly, studying the faces to make sure.
The board had arrived. They were consoling each other, but firm in their commitment to do the people’s business.
Billister smiled to himself. For a few minutes longer, anyway, he thought.
He strolled casually, turning off the road into a side street where he stopped, fumbled with something in his pocket, adopted a confused expression, and then returned to the corner as if wondering which way to go.
After the last of the members entered the building, he gave them another minute. He took out his comm device, input a number, and held the device to his ear and had a conversation. Any observer would have thought he had called a friend since he interspersed his sentences with laughs and nods. He said a loud goodbye. When the device was in front of him, what would have looked like the tap to hang up was the tap to call the number on the screen.
No one heard the connection as a massive explosion tore through the building. He had been ready for the explosion, but not the level of violence that erupted. It threw him into the air, after which he bounced off a vehicle and rolled into the street. Debris rained down on him and the vehicle. He was barely able to cover his face as he tried to curl up in a ball.
When the immediate danger had passed, the driver got out to help, aghast at the cloud billowing from the rubble that used to be a building.
Billister groaned and tried to get up. The driver told him to stay down.
“No, we have to help. There have to be people hurt worse than me,” Billister claimed. When he got to his feet, he felt like nothing was broken, but the bruises would convince others of his innocence. He was a victim of what looked like an accident, like everyone else. “I smelled gas earlier,” Billister lied. “I should have called someone or said something! It’s all my fault!”
“It’s not your fault,” the driver said soothingly while he supported Billister. “These old buildings. They ought to do something about them, but it’s no one’s fault.”
Chapter Twelve
Rivka, slack-jawed, looked at the three Ledonians. They were sitting as far away from each other as they could while remaining at the same table. It had been six hours, and they’d gotten almost nowhere. Every point Rivka brought up devolved into angry shouting and accusations.
“The sky is blue,” Rivka stated. They glared at each other and then her. “Is there any goddamn thing you can agree on?”
“The sky doesn’t matter. We deserve our just slice of it.”
“You all deserve what you earn, nothing more, nothing less,” Rivka countered.
Faith snarled a harrumph. “If we’re kept from earning anything, then we have nothing,” she declared.
Rivka wanted to drill down but knew that the anger that embroiled them would not allow them to move forward. They needed time, and to each be given definitive actions to start rebuilding trust. As Federation signatories, they were subject to Federation assistance. Rivka maintained a loose interpretation of that statute.
Rivka didn’t know what else to say. Repeating herself was getting them nowhere. She closed her eyes and massaged her temples.
You called? a familiar voice came over her comm chip.
Damn straight, TH, she replied. Give me a moment with these three, and then I’ll bring you up to speed.
“Here’s what’s going to happen. The Federation is assuming control of Leed’s Planet. The Federation will mandate the actions you will take in order to return to being a functioning member. Your input is no longer solicited. The one thing that you have control over is your people. If any of them does violence upon another, their lives will be forfeit, and you’ll be thrown in jail as accomplices.”
“You can’t do that!” Treacher cried belligerently. Rivka stood and walked to the window. She crooked a finger at them, but they crossed their arms and remained seated.
“Of course I can, and I just did. Any questions? They’ll be the ones enforcing it.” She pointed at a shadow looming over the city.
The War Axe—Terry Henry Walton’s flagship for his Bad Company. Rivka was pleased to see that he brought company. Dozens of ships formerly of Ten’s fleet, which the Bad Company had liberated, followed the destroyer down. As a show of force, the ships were making a slow pass over the city. Rivka smiled at the aerial parade.
She found the Ledonians and Jay standing at her side looking out at the armada.
“Floyd,” Jay whispered.
“I look forward to seeing her, too. I’m sure we will, and soon.”
Rivka switched to her chip. Our mech suit needs to be fixed. Good news is that it can take a tank’s main round and survive. The bad news is that it hammers the wearer and destroys the sensor suite.
Sounds like you’ve had more action than we have. See you soon. Colonel Terry Henry Walton signed off.
“I’ll leave you to argue among yourselves, but there’s really nothing left to fight over. Because you couldn’t negotiate, you’ll get to do as you’re told instead. That’s better, don’t you think?”
“No! That’s crap,” Faith retorted.
“Then you should have come to the table willing to talk instead of wasting your time posturing. I don’t have time to babysit. I understand that you have real grievances, but I also see your world in the middle of a civil war. We’ve been at it for a mere six hours, but none of you h
ave any interest in taking the first steps to resolve this conflict. We’ll do that for you, and then you can get down to serious negotiations. Here’s a tip regarding negotiations: pick the one thing that you must have; that you are willing to die for. That is what you demand. Everything else can be traded or negotiated.”
“That’s crap!” Faith repeated belligerently.
“That’s reality. I didn’t come here to stop your war. I came here to stop the person I believe was responsible for starting your war. I now have the information I need to go after him since he’s no longer anywhere near here. I’m turning you over to the Bad Company, and they’ll prepare you for your Federation oversight team. Now, if you’ll excuse me, my friends are arriving, and I want to go say hi.”
Jay and Rivka left without looking back. The Ledonians remained in stunned silence.
“There is turmoil in the city,” Margaret noted.
“Explain.” Tod Mackestray thrived on a certain amount of discord.
“It appears that an explosion has killed every member of the Licensing Board, one of the key committees on this planet.”
“How does something like that happen?”
“First reports suggest a gas leak.”
“I can work with that, but the sympathy voters will be out in full force. I may not be able to sway things unless a new faction is seeking a way into the system. Any nibbles in that regard?”
“No, but the challengers are stepping into the void, telling the voters that they’ll improve infrastructure to keep anything like this from happening again.”
Mackestray stroked his chin. He never accepted coincidences during an election cycle. “Who benefits from this board being eliminated?”
Margaret took a while to answer. “The board ensures that businesses comply with regulations to maintain a smoothly operating economy while keeping the Capstan people safe. I can find no evidence of bribery or undue influence of the board members.”
“Maybe that was why they had to go. They wouldn’t take the money to look the other way.”
Your Life Is Forfeit: A Space Opera Adventure Legal Thriller (Judge, Jury, & Executioner Book 4) Page 10