Someone aboard the shuttle was powerful enough to rate their own praetorian guard, and that changed the equation a bit. He wasn’t going to be able to browbeat them into getting his list filled. Colby had lots of experience dealing with the type, and usually the best course of action was to convince the bigwig that whatever Colby wanted had been what they wanted in the first place.
He plastered a smile on his face and thought about skimming the list of likely high-ranking politicians who might be arriving, but his implant had been offline since the battle with the plant daikaiju. His patience, like his smile, was manufactured, but sufficient as he waited to see who had decided to make a personal appearance on the scene. Whoever it was, Colby would just have to deal with them.
An underling, bright and eager, popped her head out of the shuttles hatch, spotted Colby, and ducked back inside. His smile faded just a bit, and he had to force it back to full wattage.
Many of the high and mighty were sticklers for protocol. The fact that there were two capital guards standing at attention at the bottom of the steps meant that whoever was in the shuttle was high-ranking, and that they expected to be met by the appropriate party, not a scruffy-looking farmer and his dog. If he was still on active duty and in full uniform, with an honor guard behind him, that would have satisfied any visiting dignitary, but not as he was now.
He expected an underling to come out first to see who he was and if he was befitting of receiving the head of this group. This nonsense was just wasting time while his list burned a hole in his pocket. He was tempted to march up to the shuttle and announce himself. Even retired, a lieutenant general still carried some weight, and maybe throwing his around wouldn’t be such a bad thing.
He’d just taken a step forward when two more guards appeared, stopping at the top of the steps, then turned inboard.
Colby raised his eyebrows in surprise. Maybe this was going to work out after all. Blinded by his own prejudices, he might have judged too soon. Not everyone who was serving at the top levels was an asshole, and if they were willing to come out to meet someone who looked as common as he did now. . .
Colby’s optimistic spin reverted to his original judgement of “asshole” as a familiar face appeared at the shuttle’s hatch.
Vice-Minister Asahi Greenstein took a moment to look over the wrecked landscape, before settling his gaze on Colby, a half-smile on his face.
This was the corrupt piece of crap who’d ruined Colby’s career. All the rage and hatred that Colby thought he’d worked through during his time spent farming on Vasquez surged in him, as fresh as if everything had happened just yesterday.
He would have expected literally anyone else, from the lowest government flack to the commander in chief, anyone besides the vice-minister. The man rarely left the confines of the capital complex on Earth. He was not a “field guy.”
But, in a way, this made sense. Colby had sent a report to the vice-minister from Vasquez, so Greenstein would have been among the first to know that humanity had been invaded by an alien species. He’d have had a jump on his rivals, and in the never-ending game of state, that could have huge benefits down the road. That big an opportunity for self-advancement could have been enough to get Greenstein out from behind his desk and into a war zone.
Colby hated the man, but he could still use him. The vice-minister certainly had the heft to get everything on his list filled and then some.
His face ached with the smile he’d plastered on as he watched the man walk down the steps, trailed by the top two guards. As soon as he stepped foot on the ground, the bottom two SUTAs performed an immaculate facing movement in unison, stepping off to precede Greenstein as the five walked up to him.
“Vice-Minister Greenstein, it is good to see you here,” Colby said, hand outstretched.
The vice-minister looked at Colby’s hand as if it were a rotten piece of meat, then said, “Mister Edson, I am surprised to see you here. Most criminals flee the site of their crimes.”
“Excuse me?” Colby asked as his smile slid from his face, replaced by an expression of confusion, his hand still outstretched.
“I might be surprised, but I am grateful. It saves me the trouble of searching for you.” He turned to one of the four expressionless SUTAs and said, “Guard Captain Heuhn, arrest this man.”
***************
Colby ran his tongue over his lip. It was puffy, and he could taste the coppery tang of his blood. The guards had been both brutal and efficient, overwhelming him before he’d had a chance to adequately defend himself. Four-against-one odds had certainly worked against him as well.
He’d gotten in a few shots, and he was pretty sure Duke had bitten one of them, but he’d borne the brunt of the fight, and now, hands cuffed behind him, his body was protesting. At least Duke had gotten away. He hoped she was OK, but if he found out they’d hurt her, there would be hell to pay.
Not that you can do much about it, Edson, locked in this room. They hold all the cards.
He still didn’t know why he’d been arrested. Greenstein had beamed while his guards took Colby down, a look of eager anticipation in his eyes. The vice-minister had enjoyed it, like some well rehearsed fantasy, Colby realized.
Two of the guards handcuffed and laid Colby on the deck while the other pair went to find a “jail cell,” as the vice-minister told them. Three civilians came out of the shuttle and stood glancing down at Colby, staring at him as if he was a rabid dog. He didn’t give them the pleasure of reacting in the least.
Unless there were more civilians in the shuttle, this was a very small contact team to start the recovery ops. Something wasn’t adding up, and not just the fact that he’d been arrested. He just couldn’t figure out what was going on.
After a long half-hour, the two guards came back with a report of a suitable room. Greenstein waved them off and returned to the shuttle, followed by his three minions.
“You gonna walk?” the guard captain had asked, at least giving him the choice.
What had the vice-minister called him? Heuhn? Maybe he wasn’t a total peacock after all.
They led him several blocks through the ruined city to the remains of a small, one-story building. The front was smashed, but the back was still intact. They took him to a good-sized room and sat him down in a chair, hands behind his back.
The four left him in the room, but Colby wasn’t naive enough to think he was really alone. He tested his cuffs, more because it was expected of him than in hopes he could break free, then settled in to wait.
He drifted off to sleep, so he wasn’t sure how much time had elapsed when a guard opened the door and the vice-minister entered.
The guard exited the room and closed the door behind Greenstein, leaving Colby alone with him. The vice-minister pulled up a chair in front of Colby, turned it around, then sat on it, legs straddling the back and arms crossed over the top.
“You really screwed up, Mister Edson.”
Colby didn’t say a word. The vice-minister was trying to get a rise out of him, calling him “mister” instead of “general.” Normally, Colby would have reacted and corrected him, but there was nothing to be gained by it given the situation. Colby recognized it for what it was: nothing but pettiness on the vice-minister’s part.
“Did you really think you could conspire against humanity?” the vice-minister asked. “And you being an ex-Marine at that. I’m shocked.”
Greenstein was playing a game, and Colby remained silent, waiting to see where the man was going.
“I’ve been trying to figure out what you hoped to gain by starting a war with an alien species. At first, I thought it might simply be anger at how your life has turned out. But then, traitor though you are, you’ve always had ulterior motives. So, I wondered. Maybe an investigation into your financial holdings would reveal something?”
Really? I don’t have enough to my name to cover the cost of next year’s seeds.
“We finally make first contact, and you instigate a wa
r. Panic ensues, and certain stocks skyrocket. Am I warm?”
Colby said nothing.
“Oh, I’ve got my investigators working on it. They are very good, Mr. Edson, and they will find what whatever I tell them to.”
Shit. Yeah, I’m sure they will.
“You know, there’s a record of my report to you from Vasquez,” Colby said, unable to keep quiet any longer.
“Oh, you mean this one?” The vice-minister pulled out his compad and looked at it. “It says here that you are demanding two-million credits for some ‘vital’ information.”
“That’s not what I wrote and you know it.”
“But that’s what’s written here, Mr. Edson.”
And it probably was, Colby knew. It would be nothing for his team to change the message.
“You’re not the only one to see the real one I sent.”
“Oh, you mean dear Erin? Yes, she saw it, but she’s had a medical emergency. Stroke, you know. She’s in the hospital now, and it’s touch-and-go, poor thing.”
You son-of-a-bitch. If my implant was online I’d be beaming this entire conversation far and wide.
And with that thought, all the pieces clicked into place. Why the vice-minister was on the shuttle, why he’d come before anyone else. Why his implant was offline, for that matter. He hadn’t believed Colby’s message, and because of that, New Mars had been devastated. His negligence had led to the loss of thousands of lives. Greestein was covering his ass!
“Lieutenant Colonel Sifuentes sent a report out, too. And you can’t do anything about that.”
“And why would I?” the vice-minister said, his tone oozing corruption. “The colonel and his Marines fought bravely after you smuggled the plant army to New Mars, wrecking your carefully laid plans to take over the planet and all its vital manufacturing.”
“So, what is it, Greenstein? I’m manipulating stocks or conquering planets? You’re just throwing shit up against the wall to see what sticks.”
The vice-minister’s eyes narrowed a fraction, and Colby knew he’d drawn blood. Greenstein had come to cover his tracks, but it was a weak strategy and lacked any supporting tactics. The man was trying to wing it, and he didn’t have a firm plan yet that would pass the sniff test.
“I’m not the one in the shit, Edson,” he said with cold certainty. “You can be assured of that.”
Colby recognized the tone, the confidence of the criminally clueless. Given an opening, he’d be able to use that to bring the asshole down. Not for the first time he wondered how Greenstein had risen so high.
The vice-minister prattled on, “You had a good thing going, you know? A fourth star, a cushy life after retirement. But no. You had to go sticking your nose into where it didn’t belong. You had to go all white knight, ready for the joust. But you forgot this very vital fact. Sometimes, knights tilt at windmills, things beyond their control.
Colby stopped short of rolling his eyes at the mangled metaphor. As if Greenstein had ever read Don Quixote. Likely he’d seen some watered down Hollbolly vid that missed the whole point.
“Whatever happens to you, remember, it was your choice.”
Finally, the vice-minister must have tired of hearing his own voice. He stood up, and without saying another word, let himself out. A few minutes later, one of the guards came back with a bottle of water. He had a black eye, courtesy of Colby and their little fight.
“Captain Heuhn says you deserve humane treatment, even if you are a traitor. I’m supposed to stay here while you drink, so no funny stuff, OK?”
“Scout’s honor,” Colby said, mentally shaking his head at the young guard’s naiveté.
A real soldier would not trust an enemy.
The irony was, Colby wouldn’t try anything. His word was good. Maybe the guard wasn’t so naïve after all.
The guard unlocked the cuffs, let Colby work some blood back into his hands, then handed him the water. He stood on the balls of his feet, ready to react, but at least he hadn’t drawn his weapon.
Colby drained the bottle, then held it at his waist and asked, “May I?”
The guard nodded, and Colby filled it while the guard watched. He didn’t care about that. He was a field Marine, and when nature called, there was no such thing as polite modesty.
He shook his hands out one more time, then put them back behind the chair. The guard reattached the cuffs, picked up the full bottle, and left. As Colby settled in, trying to get comfortable, he realized that there was some give in the cuffs.
He pulled at them, and his right hand started to slide. His hopes jumped. The young kid had made a cardinal sin—he hadn’t checked to make sure the cuffs were secure.
Colby pulled, almost tearing the skin off his wrist and hand, but after five minutes of tugging, his hand popped free. He stood up, cuffs dangling from his left hand. Ignoring the pain in his right, he swung the cuffs around a few times. They didn’t have much weight, but they’d make a passable weapon.
Creeping, he approached the door. He couldn’t hear anything on the other side. He leaned forward, pressing his ear against it to hear better, and the door moved. He jumped back, stunned. It had opened a crack. They hadn’t even locked it.
He put his hands against the door, ready to give it a shove and jump whoever was out there when sanity caught up with him.
Capital guards were not Marines, but they weren’t totally unprofessional in what they did. Even a young guard would not make the mistake with the cuffs, and they would not have left the door unlocked.
He tip-toed back to the chair and took a seat.
The vice-minister had the upper hand, but no matter what the bastard did, Colby could—and would—fight. And no matter how well-crafted the story the vice-minister concocted, some people would believe Colby. All it took was for the vice-minister and his minions to slip up once, and their carefully crafted story would start to unravel.
A traitor who was killed trying to escape, however, could not proclaim his innocence.
Colby sat back and waited for the next move.
***************
The door crashed open, jerking Colby awake. He jumped up, holding his left hand back and ready to use his cuffs as a weapon. Two Marines rushed in, then hesitated when they saw the wild-eyed man standing in front of them.
“Not a grateful way to greet your rescuers, General,” Lieutenant Colonel Sifuentes said as he entered the room. “Are you going to take us all on with those cuffs?”
“Manny Sif, I’d never would have guessed that I’d ever say this, but you are a sight for sore eyes,” Colby said as he lowered his arm. “I take it you are the cavalry, but how did you get Greestein to agree?”
“He didn’t. The Commandant insisted that you be released, the First Minister objected, and those two are fighting about it now. I told Greenstein that in the meantime, I was taking you into custody until they could get it straightened out back on Earth.”
“And he agreed?”
“I’ve got over 300 Marines. He’s got four SUTAs.”
Colby nodded his understanding. Might makes right—and this time, in his favor.
Still, he was in debt to the colonel. Sure, he held the practical power right now, but when everything was sorted out, if Greenstein somehow swayed the first minister and triumphed in the end, Manny Sif’s career was over.
Colby felt the lump growing in this throat. This is what he’d missed most after being cashiered from the Corps: the loyalty and bond all Marines had for each other.
Lieutenant Colonel Sifuentes made a show of looking around the room, then said, “Unless you are really attached to these accommodations, General, I’d suggest we diddiho out of here before a firm decision on your status comes down from on high.”
He left unsaid the fact that he’d have a much harder time breaking him out if the director general came down on the side of the first minister. It would be better for both of them if Colby was out of Greenstein’s reach before and if that was the decision.
And that decision wouldn’t necessarily be based on the facts of the matter. Neither the commandant nor the first minister knew the truth. The first minister was backing his Number 2, and the commandant was taking issue with any former general, even a shit-canned general, being held by one of the ministries, even if that was the First Ministry and the minister technically outranked him.
Colby held out his left arm, from which the cuffs still dangled. One of the two enlisted Marines stepped forward, took out his multitool, and a moment later, the cuffs dropped to the deck. Colby rubbed his wrist, and then followed the two Marines out of the door where ten more Marines waited, not exactly guarding two SUTAs, but making no effort to hide that they were waiting for anything.
The guard with the black eye stood casually, thumb stroking the butt of his sidearm as he watched Colby emerge. Colby could see the animosity the young man held for him, and he probably wished he’d just shot Colby earlier, then dragged him out to stage an escape.
You can’t hesitate, son, not if you want things to go your way.
Colby gave the young SUTA a huge smile, then nodded his head. The guard’s eyes tightened, and for a moment, Colby wondered if he’d be foolish enough to draw his weapon.
Leave him alone, Edson. He undoubtedly believes I’m a traitor, fed by Greenstein’s bullshit.
He shifted his gaze and walked alongside the colonel, flanked by the Marine squad, and left the ruined building. He felt a wave of relief as he passed through the shattered door that almost made his knees buckle. Inside his makeshift cell, he’d kept his spirits up by vowing to fight, but as the sunlight hit his face, he realized how deep into the shit he’d been. Without Manny Sif’s intervention, he may have not even lived to see another day.
“Are you ready for an update, sir?” the colonel asked as they made their way through the ruined square where the giant daikaiju, including the one Colby had controlled, had fought to the death just two days before.
The Seeds of War Trilogy Page 18