Triumphant (Genesis Fleet, The)

by Jack Campbell

  “That’s my job, isn’t it? Now, your job is this. I want you observing while we negotiate with those two commanders, and assist in working out a deal if we can. Beyond that I expect you to speak up at any time if you see something I need to know about.”

  “I’ll do what I can,” Carmen promised.

  “I know.” Edelman smiled. “Back on Earth, I saw your name on some of the messages that resolved a border dispute going back a thousand years.”

  “I actually did some good?” Carmen asked.

  “Yes. There, and here. You also have some experience on Mars, I understand.”

  She nodded again to give herself time to phrase her answer carefully. “I’m a Red, General.”

  “Did you think that was a secret from anyone?” He smiled again, surprising her. “I’ve never trusted any way of placing humans into categories based on where they’re from or what their ancestry is. It divides all of us into our little boxes, doesn’t it? But humans aren’t made to fit into boxes. What matters with you is the work you’ve done up until now, and that is why I want you here for this.”

  “Yes, General.” Pleased to know that she’d earned his trust, Carmen followed General Edelman to a side passage, where they met a dozen other officers. The general stopped, facing one wall where a display had been set up. Those viewing the command group that Carmen was now part of would see nothing else but a bare wall behind them that would offer no clue to their location.

  Carmen stood behind and to one side of Edelman. Not certain what to do with her rifle, she rested the butt of the weapon on her foot, canting the barrel to one side as it pointed toward the ceiling. She didn’t feel like a diplomat, and not quite like an intelligence officer, either. But, despite the sentiments of General Edelman, she also wasn’t like the others gathered here. Carmen felt as if Kosatka was home now, the sort of home she’d never had before, but this morning she didn’t feel like everyone else. Maybe she never would.

  The display activated. Carmen saw a man and a woman, both wearing the sort of nondescript camouflage fatigues that could have marked soldiers from just about anywhere in human-occupied space. Neither wore any kind of rank insignia, or any identifying patches indicating their allegiance. But she saw a small tattoo on the woman, just beneath the left ear, that Carmen recognized. She fought down a wave of hatred at the sight. That woman had been one of those feeding off the misery of countless other inhabitants of Mars. “General,” she said before the call was accepted, “that woman has the tattoo of an executive in one of the cartels that control the businesses that exist on Mars. She must be in charge of many if not all of the Reds recruited to serve with the invaders.”

  “It’s a small tattoo,” a colonel observed. “Does that mean she’s a minor executive?”

  “No,” Carmen said. “The saying on Mars is ‘the bigger the dog, the smaller the tattoo.’ It’s a way for the elite to boast that they don’t need to try impressing anyone with large tattoo displays. The highest of the warlords, gang leaders, and cartel bosses only have a single mark tattooed on one earlobe.”

  “Then this person is of high rank despite her lack of insignia?” Edelman asked Carmen.

  “Yes, General.”

  Another staff officer chimed in. “From the way they’re standing, the man is of roughly equal rank to her. Neither one is displaying dominance over the other.”

  “All right. Accept the call.” An officer tapped the command, and the call went live and real time. “I understand you have an offer to make. Talk to me,” General Edelman told the two without any polite exchange of greetings.

  The man spoke with a formal cadence that betrayed his own origins with some Old Earth or Old Colony military. “We are prepared to surrender our forces in exchange for certain guarantees.”

  “You’re in command of all of the invading forces?” Edelman demanded.

  “Yes.”

  Carmen had spotted the barest hesitation before that reply and saw the way the woman’s eyes looked slightly aside. “That’s not true,” she said, drawing measured looks. “They’re throwing dust at their own.”

  That statement brought the attention of the woman executive fully on Carmen. “Throwing dust at their own” was a distinctly Martian term for betraying your own side, born of the way the ever-present red dust of Mars could be used to blind anyone and cover secretive movements.

  Edelman nodded once in reply to Carmen before turning a flat look back on the enemy officers. “I’ll ask again, and if the response this time doesn’t satisfy me this negotiation will be over. Are you in command of all of the invading forces?”

  The enemy officer aimed an angry gaze at Carmen as he replied. “Between us we command more than three-quarters of the remaining forces, and control all of the remaining ammunition stockpiles and power supply reserves. If we surrender our troops, you won’t have any trouble finishing off what remains.”

  “What are your terms?”

  “Freedom and safe passage for ourselves and selected members of our staffs.”

  General Edelman gazed back at the other for a long moment. “Freedom and safety for you? And the other soldiers, those you are surrendering?”

  The man smiled, a thin and humorless expression. “We are sure they will be treated in accordance with the laws of war. We are looking out for them, ensuring they won’t die in senseless fighting.”

  Carmen glanced at the general, but he had obviously picked up on his own the insincerity in those last words.

  Edelman grimaced like someone tasting something foul before replying. “When are you willing to surrender?”

  “Tomorrow morning.”

  “Wait.” Edelman gestured to an aide who entered a command that caused a “mute” symbol to appear on the display. He and the others turned away from the screen so their faces and lips couldn’t be seen as they talked. “They’re willing to throw their own soldiers under the bus to save themselves.”

  One of Edelman’s senior assistants scowled. “I hate to see people like that walk away free.”

  “But . . . ?” the general prompted.

  “But,” the assistant said reluctantly, “if they surrender their forces and those ammo supplies, we’ll be able to roll up the rest quickly. It’ll save lives on our side, and prevent having to destroy any more of Kosatka to end this.”

  “Why are they willing to betray their comrades, though?” another officer wondered.

  Carmen answered. “They’re mercenaries. They got hired to fight for our enemies, so they’re not motivated by any causes or beliefs beyond their own personal profit. That woman is an executive from a Red cartel. She doesn’t care about what happens to the people she’s in charge of any more than farmers care about what happens to the stalks of grain that they’re harvesting and selling. What she does care about is looking out for herself.”

  “If they’re that dishonorable,” the first officer to speak suggested, “why can’t we agree to their terms and then arrest and try them anyway?”

  “Because then,” Carmen said, “we’d have let them dictate our actions, let them turn us into the same kind of people they are.”

  General Edelman nodded. “Exactly. We’d know we did that, and others would hear of it. Who’d trust Kosatka after that?”

  “But we shouldn’t be expected to honor agreements with people like that!” another protested.

  Edelman shook his head, his eyes briefly closing as if with pain. “I suppose not. But if we don’t honor agreements with them, why should we be trusted to honor agreements with others? It’s all reduced to self-interest, isn’t it? But what’s the measure of a people? Whether they act honorably toward their friends? Or whether they act honorably toward their enemies? Let me tell you something. I only made major back on Old Earth because I thought there were more important things than pursuing my next promotion. Out here, you made me a general. But I’m stil
l the same man. Until this world decides to demote me again, I’m going to do what I think is right. Because you need that. This is a young world. What we do will form the foundation for all that comes after. And that foundation needs to be one that you can all be proud of. Not like those two, pretending they’re doing this to save the lives of their own when all they care about is themselves. No. We’re not like those two. That’s why we’re fighting them.”

  “But do we have to agree to this deal?” a colonel asked.

  General Edelman paused. “I think we must. We don’t know how long we have until the next attack comes from Apulu, Scatha, or Turan. The sooner we end this fight, the longer we’ll have to prepare for the next one. We must assume there will be another invasion of the world that has become our home. And we must do all we can to assure that invasion is also defeated.”

  Carmen saw those around the general nod in silent agreement, and realized she was doing the same.

  Edelman turned back to face the display and gestured for the sound to be activated again. “Let’s talk the specifics of this deal.”

  Much of what followed was predictable, details of Where and When and How, until the two turncoat commanders both looked at Carmen. “We want a guarantee,” the woman from Mars announced.

  “Guarantee?” General Edelman asked.

  “A hostage,” Carmen explained.

  “Her,” the male enemy commander emphasized, pointing at Carmen. “She proceeds to a designated spot, we meet her there, and she escorts us out. Once we’re clear, we’ll send the surrender commands to every unit under our control.”

  Edelman gave Carmen a troubled look. “I can’t demand this of you. If anything goes wrong . . .”

  “I understand,” Carmen said, her eyes on the female Red. “But, as you said, many lives can be saved if this goes through. I won’t be the cause for it to fail.”

  The general frowned before turning a dark look on the two enemy officers. “If anything happens to her, neither of you will leave this world alive.”

  * * *

  • • •

  Carmen sat in an isolated corner, breathing slowly, trying to sort through words she didn’t want to say. Despite being encouraged to sleep and being given an unusually good dinner that had felt uncomfortably like a last meal, she hadn’t gotten much rest. During the negotiations it had become obvious that the enemy forces were splintering, some following the orders of officers who remained loyal to the overall enemy commander, while others were listening to the two who were preparing to surrender. With the enemy forces breaking into factions, an already hazardous mission for her could become even more dangerous. Little wonder she’d had trouble sleeping.

  Now morning had come and she could no longer put off what she had to do.

  Starting with this. She activated her personal pad, looking into it as she spoke. “Hi, Domi. If you receive this, it’ll be because something happened and I didn’t survive. I . . . I can’t ask you to understand. I saw so much suffering as a child. I’ll do anything to stop that from happening again. I have to do what I can, no matter how worried I am. I can’t stop trying. I’m sorry. I love you. But I have to do this if I’m to live with myself. I left some eggs frozen, so if the worst happens we can have children still, and hopefully they won’t be as stubborn and set on doing what they must as I am. But there have to be good things worth dying for, Domi. Not things worth killing other people over, but things worth our own sacrifices. I won’t live believing that what happened to Mars is acceptable. I can’t. I hope you never see this message, that I come back and we have a full life together. But if I don’t come back, tell our children I did it for them. And for you. I love you.”

  She ended the recording, breathing deeply. Tagging Dominic Desjani, she set the message to transmit in forty-eight hours if not canceled. Wiping her eyes, Carmen stood, grasped her rifle, and walked through the dimly lit underground garage to where the soldiers waited who would escort her part of the way to the place where she was to meet the enemy commanders.

  * * *

  • • •

  Carmen left her escort in what would’ve been the lobby of a hotel, and might someday become one. For now, it was a large, open, and bare space with shattered windows looking out on a stretch of what should have been a strip of parkland but was currently a scorched band of bare soil punctuated by the broken stumps of dead saplings.

  “This’ll be a nice town once it gets rebuilt,” Carmen commented to one of the soldiers as she handed over her rifle. “Take care of this for me.”

  Her escort stayed behind as Carmen stepped outside into the light of morning, her skin crawling with the feeling of unseen weapons aimed at her from the enemy on the other side of the dead parkland. No camouflage or armor protected her, just the fabric of her fatigues. Holding her arms slightly out and her empty hands clearly visible, she walked at a steady pace across the street, through the strip of dirt, and on across the street beyond toward the buildings on the other side. She couldn’t see any enemy soldiers in those apparently vacant buildings, but she knew they were there. Knew they were aiming weapons at her.

  Carmen concentrated on keeping her breathing slow, deep, and steady, trying to counter the hard and fast beating of her heart. She’d seen what the invaders had done on Kosatka, had seen what those of them from Mars had done on that world. And she was placing herself at their mercy, counting on the good faith of people who were betraying their own comrades.

  No, not the good faith of such people. The self-interest they had, the desire to survive the disaster that the invasion of Kosatka had become for these invaders.

  “Halt.”

  Carmen jerked herself to a stop at the command hissed in a low voice. She stood, trying not to let her extended arms shake badly enough for it to be visible.

  “Come ahead. Slow and steady.”

  She found it surprisingly hard to get her feet moving, only her own stubbornness and rising temper countering the instinct for self-preservation that threatened to paralyze her. Carmen walked onward, saw a hand gesture beside a doorway with two shattered doors offering open access, and stepped through.

  Inside, a half dozen men and women stared at her like a pack of wolves ready to strike. Their faces bore the marks of too little food for too long and nearly constant stress, wide eyes set amid bones standing out prominently. “Rainbow,” Carmen whispered through a throat that suddenly felt very dry.

  For a moment she wondered if these enemy soldiers recognized the password she’d been given. This position was supposed to be occupied by soldiers loyal to the two commanders who wanted to surrender, but what if that had changed and she’d just become a prisoner of hard-liners? Carmen’s mind was already racing through possible ways to escape when one of the enemy soldiers answered in a whisper, “Mountain.”

  The countersign. Carmen relaxed a little as an enemy soldier stepped forward, patting her down in a rough search for weapons, while another scanned her with a handheld.

  Carmen studied the enemy soldiers who stood back as the search proceeded, their weapons ready for use. Wolves, yes, but wolves who’d been run to the edges of their endurance, whose eyes were those of trapped creatures waiting for the end. She saw the way they watched her in return, both wary and hopeful. Backed into a corner, desperate, wolves could attack someone trying to help them.

  Someone like her.

  Satisfied that she had no weapons or tracking devices on her, the searchers stepped back and a man with the air of command gestured to Carmen. “Come.”

  They walked through dark, empty halls inside the building, the sound of their footsteps echoing softly. Carmen guessed at least two of the enemy soldiers were following behind her as she walked in the wake of the man in charge.

  One of those guards behind her startled Carmen by calling out to the officer in the lead, “Lieutenant? Who is she again?”

  “A guaran
tee,” the lieutenant said, his voice sharp. “The defenders have agreed to let us surrender and promised humane treatment. All we have to do is get her to Alternate Command Center Gamma and turn her over to the brass there.”

  “But this morning we got another message from the top saying to hold out because reinforcements would be here anytime now.”

  The lieutenant’s voice grew harsher. “Things have changed.”

  “But—”

  “There aren’t any reinforcements coming for you,” Carmen said, trying to keep her voice calm. “The ships in the invasion fleet you came on were destroyed or captured. Only one warship escaped, and it was badly damaged. Kosatka’s warship controls space in this star system. You’re alone. No help is coming for you.”

  “She’s lying,” the other soldier behind Carmen said.

  “No, she’s not!” the lieutenant snarled. “We’ve all been lied to! To hell with Marshal Lopez and his orders. General Idris and Colonel Liu have made a deal with the defenders. We don’t have to die here!”

  After a pause, one of the soldiers replied in a hushed voice, “I don’t want to die here. But what if the Field Marshal hears about this?”

  “Or some soldiers who are still listening to his orders,” the second soldier said. “What’ll we do if we run into somebody like that?”

  “Get through them,” the lieutenant said, his tone now grim. “We get through them and we get her to Alternate Command Center Gamma. Listen up. I explained this earlier. The chain of command is falling apart. You have to trust me. We might run into other people on our side who want to stop us because they’re too stupid to see what’s happening or too scared of going against orders from Lopez. If we let them stop us, all of us die within another few weeks when our ammo supplies run out and the rest of our positions are overrun. Because the defenders won’t have to offer us mercy then. Today we’ve still got a little leverage, still got a little time. As long as we get this woman to Alternate Command Center Gamma, we’ll be okay. Understood?”