“The Neander were here when you arrived?” Salazar asked.
“As I said,” Hammond began, “this planet wasn’t our first choice, or anything like it. When we arrived in orbit and found a habitable spot, we didn’t have time to ask questions. The ship was falling apart, and we weren’t even sure we could get out of orbit, still less head for another star. We had to land.”
“There were natives living down here, of course,” Daniels said. “There was some fighting in the early days, before we came to an agreement with the local leaders. We would provide them with education, medical assistance, make them a part of our society, and in return they would stop fighting. It worked.”
“You conquered them?” Marshall asked.
“It wasn’t like that,” Hammond said.
Glancing at the Governor, Daniels said, “Yes it was, and you know it. We out-gunned them, and the only reason we came up with that was to stop a massacre.” Turning to Marshall, he said, “All of that was fifty years ago, and I’m not going to stand here and say that we’re innocent bystanders, but there are people who are going to be killed tonight unless you help us stop them, and none of them had anything to do with the Territorial Treaty.”
Shaking his head, Marshall said, “And the Neander now?”
“Those who live down here are a part of our society. Infant mortality is a hundredth of what it once was, and their life expectancy has doubled. Those who wouldn’t agree went up to the plateau. They had a choice.”
With a barking laugh, Daniels said, “Live down here as a second-class citizen or go up where you struggle to breathe and the temperature is ten degrees colder. Some choice, Bill. And you know it.” Turning to face Marshall, he continued, “We’re bringing them up, but it’s a slow process. About a third of my troops are Neander, though none in the officer grades.” The look he gave the Governor made it apparent that this was not his choice.
The door to the museum opened, and an old man in a tight-fitting suit stepped out, walking with a limp. He scowled at Daniels, then walked over to stand beside Hammond.
“You’re holding this meeting on the street?” he asked.
“Not intentionally. Captain, this is the Secretary of the Interior, Kirk Mason. About the only thing we have that resembles any sort of civil service.”
“A pleasure to meet our savior in person. You are planning on helping us, aren’t you? Those savages must be stopped.”
“Secretary, I’ve fought alongside Neander, and there are several I count as friends,” Marshall said. “Whatever they are, they aren’t savages. Has a diplomatic solution been considered?”
“With those aliens spurring them on?” Mason asked. “They can’t be reasoned with, Captain. They don’t know how. I don’t know who you were dealing with, but my experience is that they are,” he paused, “children who need to be guided. Perhaps in a generation or two, they might be ready to have more of a say in the government of this territory, but not yet.”
“Secretary, the General had just about sold me on helping you. You’re making me want to get into my shuttle and let you handle this problem by yourself. If they are such savages,” he laced the word with as much sarcasm as he could muster, “then I can’t see that you will have any difficulties in dealing with them.”
“Barbarians they might be, but they outnumber us in military effectives. Every one of them is a warrior, whereas our people,” Mason stiffened, “Our people have grown weak. They must be protected.”
“That seems to be a general theme with you,” Salazar said, earning himself a sharp stare from Marshall.
“That will do, Sub-Lieutenant.”
“I hope you are able to keep your subordinates under better control that this normally, Captain,” Mason said.
“He might have said it, but I was thinking it,” Marshall said. He glanced at the city, shook his head, and said, “I’ll contact my ship and have my ground strike force mobilized. Four men to each outpost. General, you said that Patton Outpost was the one you expected the greatest threat?”
“As far as we can tell, but we don’t have any aerial reconnaissance.”
“There we can definitely help you. I’ll have my staff prepare a briefing pack for you.”
“Thank you, Captain,” Hammond said.
Raising a hand, Marshall said, “I will not, however, authorize lethal force.”
“What? That’s absurd!” Mason yelled.
“My men will be equipped with non-lethal weapons. I’m certain they will be more than up to the task at hand.”
“Better any help than none,” Daniels said. “We’ll take what we can get.”
“What then, Captain, when they wake up? We’ll have prisoners to deal with, or are you wanting to avoid having blood on your precious hands?” Mason pushed.
“Secretary, I am doing this against my better judgment, in all honesty, and I will not allow the perpetuation of a massacre. Even if I gave such orders, my people would never follow them, and I wouldn’t want to serve in a military that did.”
“I must protest…” Mason began, but Marshall cut him off.
“Feel free, but I don’t see any need to listen. Now, do you want to continue an argument that you won't win, or would you rather I contacted my ship and made the arrangements?”
Locking a dark stare on Mason, Daniels said, “I’ll arrange for transport at the Fort for your men, as well as a tactical briefing on the situation they’ll be facing.”
“No need for the transport, General, we’ll handle that. You’ll need to appoint a liaison officer to work with Ensign Cooper, though.”
“To hell with that, Captain, I’ll gladly do that job myself. It's about time I got my hands dirty. I can’t wait to see what tricks you’ve managed to come up with after a century of progress.” Looking at the pistol in his holster, he said, “Frankly, most of our equipment wouldn’t look out of place in a Civil War re-enactment.”
“Our people have worked like dogs to provide them for you,” Mason began.
“And my people have died by the dozen to protect them from the unrest you and the Guard have managed to rouse. Don’t blame us for this.” Throwing a salute at Marshall, he said, “I’d better go and get things moving. Governor?”
“Get to work,” Hammond said, but Daniels was already stepping into his jeep, his driver revving the engine into life, the noise drowning out the Governor's words. “I’ll have to speak to him later.”
“You ought to relieve him.”
“And replace him with who, exactly, Kirk? Let’s not pretend that we’re exceeding our recruitment quotas, and I note that the Territorial Guard isn’t out on the frontier in any strength.”
“No point defending the borders if we don’t watch the enemy within.” With a withering glance at Marshall, he said, “I have matters to attend to. Until later, Captain.” He walked off down the street, without a backwards glance.
“I’m afraid you have seen the worst of us today, Captain,” Hammond said.
“I’ve seen worse.”
Shaking his head, he said, “Fighting over the scraps. I presume your science team has already determined the future of our planet? Or lack of it?”
“They’re working on a report right now.”
With a deep sigh, he said, “Our future will lie with you, or we will not have one at all. I’ve got to find a way to make them all see that. Your arrival in orbit has given us the first real hope that we’ve had in decades, but there are people like Kirk who will never admit it.” Glancing back at Marshall, he said, “I presume you have better things to do than tour a museum of old relics?”
“Later, perhaps,” Marshall replied.
“Well, tonight I will be hosting a reception to celebrate your arrival. As such, your attendance would be most welcome, and you will have a chance to meet the rest of our small political class. At around twenty hun
dred.”
“I’ll be there, sir.”
“Don’t think too badly of us, Captain. We did what we had to do, and we believed that we had the survival of humanity itself on our shoulders. Would you not have taken desperate steps under such circumstances?”
“Perhaps.”
“I’ll have my driver give you a lift back to your shuttle. I’d better go after Kirk and see if I can talk some sense into him. Good day, Captain.” With a quick word to the man at the steering controls, he walked off down the street, after the limping old man.
“Salazar,” Marshall began.
“I’m sorry, sir, but all of this…”
“I agree with you, Sub-Lieutenant.” Shaking his head, he said, “We need to keep things under control whilst we can work out a longer-term solution. For that we’re going to need intelligence, and I want you to gather it.”
“Anything I can do, Captain.”
“Tonight, while I’m suffering at this reception, you and Foster are to go out on the streets. Not undercover, nothing like that, but take a look around, and try and avoid any escorts. I want to see what life is really like on this planet, and I doubt I’ll get to do it while under a Gubernatorial escort.”
“With Foster?” he said, frowning.
“I know,” Marshall said, returning the frown with a smile. “Needs must, Sub-Lieutenant.” He stepped into the car, and said, “Come on, unless you want to miss your ride.”
“Aye, sir.”
Chapter 5
Cooper looked out of his viewport at the outpost below, trying to get a quick feel of the terrain from the air. The base itself looked like it had been torn out of the pages of a manual, a cluster of buildings protected by a stockade, surrounded by a deep trench with machine gun emplacements facing the pass up ahead. All the undergrowth had been cleared away, creating a quarter-mile of killing ground. He certainly wouldn’t want to assault it.
The pass, to the north, was a similar story. Someone had done work on it in the past, widening the path that ran through the rocks, wide enough for half a dozen people to march in formation. There were still plenty of hiding places, lots of opportunities for ambush points. A classic stalemate. The enemy couldn’t assault them without taking massive casualties, but they couldn’t return the favor either.
As the shuttle descended, a group of men raced out from the stockade, moving into parade formation. It seemed to be about an equal split, half the force Neander, all fluidly racing to their assigned position, their rifles down by their sides. A cloud of dust kicked up as the landing jets smashed into the ground, the shuttle settling into the dirt.
“All clear, sir,” the pilot said. “I’ve got five minutes before my next appointment.”
“We won’t hold you up, Midshipman,” Cooper said. “Corporal, see to the equipment. I’d better go out and see what the situation is.”
“Yes, sir,” Vaughan replied. “Come on, come on, let’s show these dirthuggers how it’s done.”
The airlock hatch slid open, and Cooper stepped through, walking down the ramp towards the waiting soldiers, their commander bringing them to attention as he reached the surface. A short, wiry man wearing a well-used uniform stepped forward, moving to the front of his men.
“Patton Outpost Garrison, ready for your inspection, sir!”
“You must be Lieutenant Blaine,” Cooper said.
“That’s correct, sir, and let me be the first to tell you that we’re all very pleased to see you. The prospect of facing a mob of a couple of thousand on our own was not something we were looking forward to.”
Cooper quickly ran his eyes over the assembled men as his troopers brought out their equipment. Their rifles were well-used, but obviously well-maintained, their uniforms patched but otherwise in good order. From the look in their eyes, they were scrutinizing him as closely as he was looking at them.
Gesturing behind him, he said, “This is Corporal Vaughan, commander of Second Squad. He’ll be leading my strike team.
“Just four of you?” Blaine said.
“I think you’ll find we’re up to the task at hand. While the Corporal sets up our equipment, you’d better give me the guided tour. We’ve got about four hours until dusk, and we’d better make full use of them.”
“I agree. Sergeant, you can dismiss the men.”
One of the soldiers glanced to his right, then said, “Permission to speak, sir.”
“Granted,” Blaine said. “Get it off your mind.”
“Sir,” he replied, looking at Cooper, “Is it true that you’ve only brought non-lethal weapons?”
“My commanding officer has not authorized the use of deadly force, yes. Nevertheless we have some toys that I think should do the job very nicely.”
“What then, sir? After you’ve knocked them out with your magic death ray? What do we do then?”
Cooper paused. The fact was that he had no good answer to the man’s question, no firm idea what he would do if he was presented with a couple of thousand unconscious Neander to deal with.
“Our goal is to convince them that attacking this outpost will cost more than they are willing to pay, and to force a negotiation.”
“Best negotiation I’ve had with those bastards is with my rifle,” one of the Neander said. “They’re not going to listen, and we’re going to have to kill them in the end.”
“That will do, Corporal. Our job is to obey the orders of civilian authority,” Blaine said. “We’ve been told what we have to do and the weapons we are to use, and that’s all there is to it.”
“Come on, Lieutenant,” a red-uniformed man said, stepping out of the stockade. “The Corporal is quite correct. The savages are an infection, and we must take any and all measures possible to make sure that it does not spread to our homes.”
With a sigh, Blaine said, “May I introduce Abel Fowler, of the Territorial Guard.”
“My pleasure,” Fowler said, giving Cooper a curt nod. “I’m looking forward to seeing what you can do, Ensign, though I hope you brought some real weapons with you. I assure you that you are going to need them, and that after you’ve faced those devils, you’ll be recommending that the gloves get taken off.”
“My troops and I are not here to perpetuate a massacre. But if it is a demonstration you want, I’ll be happy to give it to you.” He pulled his plasma carbine out of his backpack, flicking a switch to charge it, and turned to face the pass. He lightly squeezed the trigger, and a ball of green fire smashed into the rock face, sending a cloud of dust and debris flying through the air, a cascade of loose stones dropping to the dirt. “To use such weapons against the enemy you are facing would be using a grenade to kill a fly. Our job is to bring a peaceful resolution, not to destroy the enemy.”
“Force is all they understand,” Fowler said. “Perhaps if you were to demonstrate those weapons in battle, they might fall into line and accept our administration. Until then, I fear that you are chasing a fantasy. Nor do you express the stated policies of our government, with whom I must immediately communicate. Doubtless I will see you later.” He turned on his heels, and stepped back into the stockade.
“Platoon,” Blaine said, “Dismissed!” The men began to file away, some to their guard posts, others back inside the stockade. Turning to Cooper, he said, “I’m sorry about that.”
“It’s understandable, being stuck out here.”
Shaking his head, the lieutenant said, “No leave for months, all of us watching and waiting for the tribes to attack. Time was we were able to poke recon teams down the pass, take a look at what they were doing, but the last two we sent in didn’t make it back. Good men, all of them. An army could be massing two miles away, and the first we’d know of it would be when they came boiling down that pass.”
“Any surprises in the defenses?”
“We’ve laid a minefield in front of the pass, but that
was years ago. I couldn’t vouch for how effective they are now. The plan was to replace them next year, we’re just not producing the equipment we need in sufficient quantities.” He pointed at the machine guns, and said, “We’re meant to have eight. We’ve only got four because Corporal Max is good with machinery.” He paused, then said, “That was the, what did you call them, Neander who spoke earlier.”
“He seemed rather…”
“Eager to fight? Well, for him, it’s personal. He came down when he was a kid, some sort of tribal squabble that he ended up on the wrong side of. I understand it was us or death. Not much of a choice. You can trust him, and the rest of his people. I’ve fought with all of them before.”
Frowning, Cooper replied, “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you don’t seem as…”
“Prejudiced? I don’t have time for any of that crap out here. We’re all that protects our families and loved ones from a mass of savages who want to wipe us out. Anyone that wants to stand on the wall with me and hold them off is more than welcome, and I’ll gladly fight beside them.”
“I’ve fought against Neander before, and I’ve fought alongside them.”
“You are a veteran, then?”
“Five combat stars, two of them on planetary surfaces. Most of my platoon are the same.” He paused, then said, “I can’t give you the details, but we were fighting on the dirt two weeks ago. Lost some good people. I don’t want to do it again.”
“I’m glad to hear it. That you know what you are doing, that is. No-one seemed to know.” He paused, then said, “I’ve been stuck out here for ten years, Ensign. Every year it seems to get worse out here. Since those damn aliens arrived, everything’s been too quiet. I know they are coming, and soon.”
“Our recon suggests you are right. In substantial numbers, high three figures certainly. Incidentally, don’t spread this around, but I do have clearance to use deadly force against the not-men.”
“The…”
“The aliens. They’re human, believe it or not, though evolved down a very different road. Who do you think I was fighting last week?”
Battlecruiser Alamo: Cage of Gold Page 4