by John Appel
“Good to see you too, Toiwa. I heard you’d been shot.”
How did she hear that? Toiwa wondered. “In the armor, Minister,” she said, patting her side gingerly. “Broken ribs though.”
“The rebels left that bit out of their claims,” Vega said. “They claim you were killed when they took over your headquarters.”
“Not on my watch,” Toiwa said in a firm voice.
Vega nodded. “Very good. As far as Miguna getting me, well, he missed that shot too. What’s your situation up there?”
“Confused,” Toiwa admitted. “The station network is down, at least in every part my people have access to, so our information is patchy. We’re stringing repeaters and using peer-to-peer in the meantime. The transit system is down too, though the cars seem to have reached safe zones and disgorged their passengers before shutting down. There’s been fighting in the hub and in all the rings. I’ve secured my headquarters and most critical points in the forward ring, at least for now, but the rebels hold the med center, one of the airplants, and a few other less crucial locations. A runner from the north ring made it through the hub. My people have secured their precinct house and the north spoke, or at least the part near the ring. They report rebel military units hold the rest of the spoke and the hub, and rebel constables have occupied two of the north ring’s airplants and the med center there. No word from the south or trailing ring, or from the hub proper.” She paused for breath. “No word from Colonel Carmagio or her staff, or any non-rebel military units, but a few individual troopers have reported in and the senior NCO is getting them organized.”
“Carmagio’s dead,” Vega said flatly. “Her aide-de-camp shot her. Major Biya, her executive officer, saw it happen. He and a few troops escaped the HQ complex at Government House and made it to the armory in the hub, only to find it largely stripped. They’ve got access to the hardline system but are otherwise cut off.”
“Damn,” Toiwa said. She’d liked Carmagio; the woman could be a little pompous at times, but she’d been a competent officer and a good partner in managing the station’s security. “Any word on the rest of the forces here on the station, Minister?”
“Not much,” Vega admitted with a frown. “Our people hold the main shuttle bays, the military side anyway. The Amazonas, the Commonwealth cruiser, undocked shortly after the fighting started. I’ve been in touch with Captain Gupta, her commander. Ze told me that their scientific delegation and a handful of zer marines were cut off somewhere in the trailing ring near Government House. Don’t suppose you have any word of them?”
Toiwa had forgotten about the Commonwealth naval vessel, and the Saljuan one too for that matter. She shook her head. “I’m afraid not, Minister. I know military troops attacked Government House and the residential block, but I’ve had no intelligence since the infonet went down. We’ve not yet re-established contact with anyone in the trailing ring. Or the south ring, for that matter.” She flicked a glance at Zinsou, who nodded, making a note. “We’ll look into it. Sorry I don’t have more news, or better news. What can you tell me about the bigger situation?”
Vega rubbed one hand across her eyes. “My news is as confused as yours, though I’ve got better data. The Prime Minister is dead, along with about half the cabinet. I was on the conference in telepresence when Miguna and his lackeys came in and shot them.”
Toiwa ignored the gasps around her in the command center. “That’s unfortunate,” she said, and reviewed the casualty list that accompanied Vega’s statement. She thought about the rules of succession. “Miguna is after you in the line of succession. Is he just ignoring that?”
“So it appears,” Vega said. The other woman’s gaze seemed to sharpen as she looked at Toiwa. “Do you recognize him as the legitimate head of the government?”
Toiwa didn’t say anything for a few seconds. Then she flexed her left hand, grabbing control of the video pickup, and panned it around the room, pausing to show the scorch marks, bullet holes, and bloodstains, the constables and staff hard at work, some of them in bandages. She resettled the camera on herself. “He called me and asked me to go along even while his lackeys were shooting their former comrades. After I turned him down, his people did this to my headquarters, Minister, and shot my people. Hell, they shot me and who knows how many others, including Carmagio. No, I do not recognize the slimy little toad’s illegitimate grab for power. As far as I’m concerned, you’re the head of government under the Covenants, sworn in yet or no.”
Vega’s shoulders dropped a little, and Toiwa realized the other woman was just as tense as she was. “Thank you, Commissioner.”
“My pleasure, Prime Minister.”
Vega shook her head. “Just Minister for now, but the swearing in will come as soon as we can rig a broadcast. We’ve got infonet troubles too, though not as bad as yours.”
“As you will. Can you put me in touch with my superiors in the Constabulary? Or in the station government?”
“I’m not sure you have any superiors anymore,” Vega said.
That rocked Toiwa back, and she sat, stunned, for a few seconds before responding. “What do you mean, Minister?”
Vega turned to her left. “Carmen, send up the pictures from the Ministry of Justice, please.” She turned back to Toiwa as the packet arrived and Zinsou threw it up on the display.
The Ministry of Justice building was simply gone. In its place was a burning pile of rubble covered by inky black smoke shot through with orange flames. More gasps sounded around the room. Toiwa felt like she’d passed to somewhere beyond shock. “How?” she asked.
“Kinetic energy weapon deployed from orbit,” Vega said, her face taking on a grim cast. “Miguna’s got some of the Navy in his pocket, too.”
“But not all?” Toiwa asked.
“No, thank the Mother. Looks like the split is something like sixty-forty in our favor, but that’s in total number of ships. The match in combat capability is a lot closer than I’d like,” Vega said. “There’s been three close-action engagements between opposing vessels that were in proximity to each other when this all started. We won two of those fights, lost the third. Now both sides are trying to gather ships into combat formations, or using them to support ground actions, while also trying to keep individual ships or weaker groups from getting picked off. The orbital control people are having ulcers.”
Toiwa was suddenly aware of the vulnerability of the station, feeling the weight of all the souls that suddenly were her responsibility. Or were they? “What about the governor and the station civilian government?”
“I’m sorry. I should have led with that,” Vega said. “You’re the first person in the station civilian government we’ve been able to reach. The rebels claim they’ve killed Ruhindi with video evidence we believe genuine. Indications are that while they failed to take you out they were successful with the rest of the station government.”
The room seemed to recede from Toiwa as she processed this. Distantly, she sensed the eyes of all the command center staff on her. Slowly, slowly, she looked around, taking in the expressions of shock, surprise, fear, and determination on her staff’s faces. Often two or more emotions warred across the same face.
She realized one person wasn’t looking at her: Chijindu. Instead, the constable’s eyes roved across the room, returning to the doorway every few seconds. He stood between her and the door, left thumb hooked into his equipment belt, his shotgun resting atop one of the consoles with his right hand on the stock, ready to swing it into action.
He was doing his job.
So would she.
She worked her mouth once, swallowed, and found the words.
“I understand, Minister.” She opened the all-hands channel on the improvised local network her people had cobbled together. “Attention. In the absence of superior civilian authority, I, Commissioner Nnenna Toiwa, Chief of Constables on Ileri Station, hereby assume the position of Acting Governor, as of 2541 hours station time, pending the restoration of compe
tent civilian authority, in accordance with the Covenants of the Republic of Ileri. Deputy Commissioner Zinsou, would you please witness?”
Zinsou licked his lips, nodded, and added his affirmation to the record.
Vega’s head nodded in the display field. “Noted and logged on this end, Governor Toiwa. My staff is reviewing the status report your team’s transmitted,” she said. Toiwa realized that Zinsou, or one of his command center people, must have taken care of that while she and Vega had been talking. “In the meantime, is there anything you need?”
“Protection from space-borne attack,” Toiwa said immediately.
“Already on the way,” Vega said. She raised her left hand and twisted, bringing a holographic field up in the command center display. An image of Ileri and the station occupied the center, an ever-shifting constellation of brightly colored dots swirling around both station and planet. Ships, Toiwa realized. “We obviously can’t establish a static screen powerful enough to deflect any attack, and static defense is useless in space warfare anyway. Except for point defenses, that is. Your point-defense system should be automated according to my staff. It’s tied into the systems protecting the station from random orbital debris.”
“Does your staff know if they’ll function with the infonet down?” Toiwa asked.
There was a short pause as Vega consulted her staff. “We think so,” she said. “Each cluster has fail-safe mechanisms to let it operate on local control.”
Toiwa nodded. She didn’t understand military ordnance, but she could follow Vega so far. Her mouth was suddenly dry, and she took a sip of water before continuing. “Good to know. I’ll try to get contact with someone on the military side who can verify the system.” Something clicked in her mind, pieces of data coming together. “Wait, you said you have a link to Major Biya. Can you relay communications between his people and mine?”
“That should be possible,” Vega said with a nod. “In any case, we’re sending a patrol frigate to help with local space control near the station, but that’s the only vessel that will be nearby for a while. The Lomba, Commander Habila’s ship, should be there in two hours. We’ll have to relay communications with her, too, until you can get your infonet back up, or rig a tight-beam. But other ships are taking orbits which should discourage the rebels from making a run at you. They can provide interdictory fire against any ordnance launched your way as well.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” Toiwa studied the seemingly chaotic dance of the tiny lights in her display. She noticed one, brilliant purple not matching any other vessel, in a high orbit all by itself. She pointed at it. “Is that the Saljuan vessel? What have they been up to while this has been going on?”
Someone on Vega’s end manipulated the display, shifting and zooming to focus on the Iwan Goleslaw, the big Saljuan warship. “They’ve deployed what look like autonomous weapons platforms, but their radiators are still deployed,” Vega said. “They have asked if we know the status of their inspection team. Were they still in the hub when rebels attacked?”
Toiwa glanced at Zinsou, who shrugged before detailing an analyst to check. “I believe so,” she said. “We’ll try to confirm. But until you told me about Major Biya, we thought the whole hub was under rebel control.” She grimaced. “I’m a little surprised Minister Dinata isn’t calling for sanctions on the whole damn planet by now.”
The minister sighed. “Oh, she’s threatening that all right. But they aren’t shooting anyone yet, so I can ignore them for now.”
“Fair enough.”
“Is there anything else we can do for you, Governor?” Vega said.
Toiwa glanced around the room at her staff. No one indicated they had any ideas to bring up. “Not at the moment, Prime Minister,” she said finally. “It sounds like you’ve got your hands full down there anyway.”
Vega offered a thin-lipped smile. “Indeed. My staff will coordinate with yours to keep the communications line open. We’ll let you know if there’s any significant developments. Otherwise, I suggest we talk again in the morning, say 0800 hours?”
“Very good, Minister,” Toiwa said. “Until then.” Vega nodded and her image disappeared.
Toiwa closed her eyes for a few seconds, then opened them and looked around the room again. “All right, people. I need a point of contact for every department on the station that you can lay your hands on. I don’t care if they’re the third assistant deputy or a damned rookie on their first day on the job. Find the most senior person you can lay hands on and tell them they’re in charge now, at least where we have control. Okoye.” A short, slender woman stood up. “You’re liaison with the military. As soon as Major Biya gets on the line, find out about the point defenses, and find out what forces are actually under his control. And put that Army sergeant who’s wrangling our stray troopers in touch with him.”
She leaned forward, slowly, hands on her chair’s armrests, and carefully pressed herself upright. “I’m going back to my office to open the contingency files in the secure station there.” And maybe to have a moment of clandestine freak-out in her private bathroom. “I’ll hold a staff meeting in the conference center downstairs with whatever station operations people you round up at 0300 hours. Any questions?”
Zinsou looked around the room and Toiwa’s eyes followed his, taking stock of her people: determination, anger, a few tears, an overlay of fatigue and shock; but every single person was at their post, working in spite of whatever their emotions, or physical condition. She felt a surge of pride. This was the Constabulary she knew, the one she belonged to, and the one she’d fought to preserve as she’d climbed the ranks.
Zinsou turned back to her and saluted. “No, Governor. The Constabulary is ready for duty.”
“All right, then. Let’s get on it.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO
Meiko
Moonstrider Gorge,
Ileri
“I think the storm is finally dying down,” Meiko said, peering around the tarp’s edge towards the cave opening.
“About fucking time,” Okereke muttered from her seat near the fire.
Zheng had found the cave along the bluff in which the bedraggled party now huddled. It was thankfully free of creatures, or at least free of anything that felt like contesting their presence. The hike down the canyon had been hellish despite being short. Meiko and Okereke had supported Fari as she hobbled one-legged, while Teng had carried the pilot slung over his shoulders.
“I haven’t been this tired since I birthed my daughter,” Okereke said.
“Was it a hard labor?” Meiko asked.
Okereke grunted. “She massed nearly five kilos, and the doctor took his time before giving me an epidural.”
Meiko made sympathetic noises. Childless, she could only imagine that level of pain. She’d give a lot for a few painkiller tablets right that moment herself.
The cave ran back into the bluff some unknown distance, but they’d found a space to the right of the entrance that they’d partly closed off with the tarp—well, a stout emergency blanket anyway—that Zheng had scavenged from the aircar’s emergency supplies. It was the kind of thing first responders carried to cover accident victims. They tacked it to the walls with strips from a roll of Everseal tape Meiko had scrounged from the pilot’s compartment.
She chuckled softly, recalling the relief she’d felt at seeing the face of Grippy, the cartoon seal-in-a-spacesuit mascot of the brand. You could find Everseal tape everywhere in the Cluster, manufactured under license on just about every world. Sure, there were reverse-engineered knock-offs anywhere people had fabbers; but every spacer Meiko had ever met swore by the ‘real’ stuff. She’d used it herself to do everything from securing pieces of survey equipment to rover bodies to patching leaky habitats to tying up prisoners. When Zheng’s eyes lit up on seeing Meiko produce the roll, she knew she’d found a kindred spirit.
Their teeth were chattering nearly nonstop by the time they constructed their dubious shelter. M
eiko was about to start explaining how one treated hypothermia when Zheng produced another miracle from the emergency kit, a thermal bar. Zheng snapped off a portion of the bar along a pre-scored line, placed it in the center of the pile of wood scrounged from outside the cave mouth, and stroked the igniter wand across it after warning them to avert their eyes.
Even through firmly shut eyes the initial flare was impressive. When she dared to open them, she found the wood steaming and beginning to burn. Zheng put her in charge of arranging additional wood around the fire to dry and keeping it fed while the constable and Teng tended to the injured. Okereke, wiped out from her efforts with the cable, slumped nearby.
They split a pair of protein bars Zheng produced from one of her many pockets between the five of them before Fari dozed off, followed by Teng and then Zheng. The storm continued to lash the world beyond their little haven.
Meiko settled in beside Okereke, stretching her hands out to warm them by the fire. “I could use a spa visit after this,” she said, and they shared a quiet chuckle. Their companions, all in something that passed for sleep, were silent but for their breathing.
“When we’re back on the station I’ll take you to my favorite,” Okereke said. “We’ll bill it to Toiwa.” Meiko smiled.
“You don’t get along with the Commissioner, I take it?” she asked.
Okereke shook her head. “Woman’s got a stick up her ass,” she said. “She’s a crusader. Came up the cable eight months ago after supposedly cleaning up Kochi.” She smacked her teeth. “Well, the Fingers are still there all right, at least according to my contacts. But she did go through the Constabulary like a fucking avenging angel, sacking department heads and career constables who’d been on the dash for so long they’d forgotten they weren’t supposed to be.”