Battlecruiser Alamo: Cage of Gold

by Richard Tongue

   “I don’t like this,” Marshall said, looking out of the window at the farmland outside, where a pair of Neander were struggling with a recalcitrant mule. “It’s too exposed, too isolated. We’d be caught in a second if anyone came.”

   “It’s been six hours, Danny,” Caine replied. “If they were coming, they’d be here by now.” She gestured at a plate of congealing food, “Have some breakfast.”

   He looked down at the pair of fried eggs, grabbed a fork, and said, “You’d think I’d be happy to eat some fresh food for once. I can’t stop thinking about…”

   “The ship, the shuttle, the troopers, the crew,” Caine said. “None of which you can do anything about right now. All we can do is wait for Richardson to get back.”

   Stuffing a forkful of egg into his mouth, he said, “That doesn’t mean I have to like it. What do you think of this place?”

   “You can fit everything I know about farming onto a very small piece of paper, but I get the impression that it has seen better days. They aren’t working all the fields, and if we’re coming up to harvest time, I don’t think much of the yield. I’d like to see some figures on food storage, but I doubt they are good news.”

   The door opened, and Richardson walked in, saying, “You are very perceptive. The Governor just announced that the food ration is being cut again. Even then getting through winter is going to be a struggle. Can you help?”

   “Possibly,” Marshall said. “Once we get back in touch with the ship. What’s the problem?”

   “The soil’s exhausted,” she replied. “It was never very good, and we farmed it too intensively, too quickly. The aquifers are draining fast now, and we’ve got no way of replacing them.” She shook her head, and said, “This planet supported about five thousand Neander before we arrived, and now there are six, seven times that many people. It just doesn’t work, not long-term, and we haven’t done anything to fix it.”

   “I’m surprised you settled here at all,” Caine said. “I’d have been tempted to stay up in orbit, expand from your colony ship.”

   “It was in a very bad way when we arrived, but we might have been better off not becoming so reliant on the ecosystem. It seemed like such a miracle, though. A planet where the air was breathable, and where our crops would grow, and we could eat the native animals. I can understand it.”

   “You know what happens next.”

   “Reversion to barbarism as we start picking over the scraps of whatever is left, the collapse of what remains of our civilization, and we go back to only a few thousand people down here. With the difference that the upper plateau is no longer inhabitable, and that the ecosystem is totally exhausted.” Sighing, she added, “I’ll be surprised if there is any intelligent life on this planet in a century. I’m not sure there is any now.”

   “Have you any news of the rest of our people?” Caine asked.

   “I sent a team to take a look at the shuttle, but they couldn’t get up the plateau. They didn’t see any signs of life up there, I’m afraid. Ensign Cooper is holed up at the top of a pass, looking down on the Territorial Guard.” With a smile, she continued, “He’s attracting a lot of attention. Something like half their strength is up there waiting for him. With reports that he is building an army out of some of the Neander tribesmen to attack.”

   “What?” Marshall said. “He wouldn’t do anything like that.”

   “We’re in an information bubble down here,” Caine said. “If the situation was worse than we thought, he might.”

   “As for the rest of your troopers, they’re under effective house arrest, though no-one has dared to try and take them into custody yet. It amounts to a series of stand-offs in every military outpost. Heaven help us if any of them get attacked right now. I think my old grandmother could take us at this point.”

   Taking a drink from a cup of what was almost coffee, Marshall asked, “The Governor?”

   “No word. Just official proclamations. It might as well be Mason running the government right now. Captain, what are your intentions?”

   “Get in touch with my ship, contact Ensign Cooper, try to find a way out of this mess.”

   “That might not be so easy,” Caine said. “We still haven’t managed to establish contact with Alamo, and I took a good look at my communicator last night. The problem’s at the other end. I think we’re going to have to deal with this one with what we have on the surface.”

   Dropping into a seat, Richardson said, “I’ve got about a couple of dozen people I can count on if it comes to a fight. Most of our supporters are passive, not active.”

   “You seem quite eager for battle,” Caine replied.

   “Ready, not eager,” she said. Glancing out of the window, she continued, “It’s been apparent for some time that it was likely to come to this in the end.”

   While Marshall took another mouthful of egg, Caine asked, “Have you any concrete plans for an uprising?”

   “Nothing worth the paper it is written on,” she replied. “Scarce of that nowadays as well. The few trees we have left will likely go when winter comes. I think the Governor was underplaying our problems to try and gain some leverage.” With a hacking laugh, she added, “All we have to offer is a used-up beer can.”

   “That doesn’t mean we won’t help you,” Marshall said. “Though I don’t think the time has come for an uprising. What the hell does Cooper think he is doing?”

   “We’ve got a man with him, but I haven’t heard from him since last night. We don’t have any way of getting in touch with him directly, not at present.” Looking at Marshall in the eyes, she asked, “What do you want of us, Captain? Be honest.”

   Taking a deep breath, he said, “What I want is to bring this planet into the Triplanetary Confederation as a protectorate. To rewrite your legal code to end this two-tier system, to disband the Territorial Guard, to get a few freighters of relief supplies in, and more to put a station up in orbit. Then we can help you, all of you, to work out the long-term future of your planet and your people, with the luxury of time.”

   “Short and to the point,” Richardson said. “I can tell you aren’t much of a politician. For what it’s worth, you have my support. Even if we get through this winter, and fight off the Neander attacks, the situation’s only going to deteriorate from here. I’ll help you.”

   Gurung came running into the room, and said, “Sir, there’s a convoy of jeeps heading this way. Army by the markings, not the Guard, and one of them is flying a flag with a star on it.”

   “General Daniels himself,” Richardson said. “No, I wasn’t expecting it, and no, I don’t know what they want.”

   “Get your men out of sight, Sergeant,” Marshall ordered. “If it comes to that, I’d rather hit them from ambush. I’ll meet them.”

   “We’ll meet them,” Caine said.

   Looking at Richardson, he added, “You’d better stay out of sight, at least for now.”

   “Whatever you say,” she said. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re calling the shots.”

   “You don’t seem much like a would-be planetary ruler,” Caine said.

   “I’m an engineer, who would far rather be taking a look around that ship of yours than sitting down here in the mud. If you start accepting immigrants, I’ll be the first one on the transport out of here.”

   “Something to remember,” Marshall said, as he walked out of the front door, rubbing his greasy hands down the side of his trousers, Caine by his side. Daniels was opting for maximum effect, five jeeps driving in line-abreast formation towards the farm, his in the middle, men standing ready at their machine guns while others watched the horizon, waiting for an attack. He noted that more than half of the soldiers were Neander, one of the drivers giving the field workers a knowing look.

   “Captain Marshall, I presume?” Daniels said, his jeep grinding to a halt. “Damn it, I’ve always wanted to say that.”
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br />    “What are your intentions, General?” he replied.

   “That rather depends on you. Theoretically, I have orders to place you and your men under arrest on a rather amusing variety of specious charges. I’m under no illusions what will happen if I make the attempt, and I don’t intend to throw the lives of my men away for a politician’s whim.” He gestured to the barn, and said, “Two men in there, one on the roof of the farm, all of them keeping me well and truly covered.”

   “I left the details to Sergeant Gurung,” Marshall said.

   “Smart man. Captain, I’m a man with a problem. I need alternatives, and I don’t have any. One of your men is getting ready for a showdown with the Territorial Guard, the Governor has gone into hiding, and somehow a declaration of martial law has left the Army with little or no authority.”

   “You want me to give you that alternative?”

   With a shrug, Daniels said, “There are a lot of people down here that are waiting on what happens next. If it comes to an attack from the plateau, I know how to respond to that, but I’m on unfamiliar territory otherwise. It comes down to a simple question. Are you planning to overthrow the government and install a regime of your own?”

   “No,” Marshall said. “That is not and has never been my intention. I don’t like your government, and I’m tempted as hell to follow the course of action you just outlined, but ultimately this is your planet, and you’ve got to make of it what you choose.”

   “Not the worst answer,” he replied. “I’ll be honest, part of me hoped that you were going to tell me you would be taking over. I would have had an easier decision to make.”

   Stepping out of the farm, Richardson said, “Come on, Phil. We both know that Mason will never let any of this go through, and that he’ll try and use those jackbooted morons of his to stop us if we try. I doubt the Assembly will ever meet again.”

   “Where the hell did the Guard come from, anyway?” Caine asked.

   “About twenty years after we landed. It started as our reserves, but they quickly switched to dealing with the Neander down here in the crater, in our territory,” Daniels said. “They train them young, and I think they’re damn near brainwashed. Al Higgins’ kid joined them, and he was never the same after that.”

   “Hasn’t anyone ever complained, tried to stop them?” Marshall asked. “Did you all just sit around and let all of this happen?”

   “We’ve been fighting for survival,” Daniels said. “Whatever else you can say about them, they work their fields and provide a good surplus every year. I have about a hundred people under me, and they outnumber me two to one.”

   Richardson nodded, and said, “Don’t think we haven’t protested. I authored a bill to disband them seven years ago, but it got wiped out at the referendum. First time I realized they were probably rigging the votes.”

   “We don’t have proof of that,” Daniels said, frowning.

   “Come on,” she said. “Do you think it is a coincidence that Mason’s picked candidate wins every time? Damn it, Hammond was a museum curator two years ago, no interest in politics at all. I don’t buy it, and neither do you.”

   “So we overthrow the government, and put you in charge?”

   “No, we put you in charge, and hold free and fair elections in sixty days.” She looked at Marshall and added, “With a couple of them to make sure that everything goes according to the books.”

   “Sir,” the Neander driver said, “Our people are going to be the ones to suffer first. All the food goes into the city, but what comes out is never enough for the ration. I’ll tell you now that the men won’t raid farms for food.”

   “It’s all so damn pointless,” Daniels said. “Captain Marshall…”

   “I need one of your jeeps, a uniform, and an escort,” he said.

   Turning to look at him, Caine asked, “What crazy plan are you coming up with now?”

   “We know what’s going to happen next. You two are going to end up joining forces, and there will be a nice, bloody revolution. One in which hundreds of people will lose their lives. Likely the Neander tribes will get involved as well, and this civilization will collapse.” He pointed up at the sky, and said, “I can’t contact Alamo, so we’re not going to get any help from up there, not any time soon.”

   “What do you suggest, then?”

   “That there might be a peaceful way to end this. We don’t know where the Governor is, and he is the civil authority down here. If I could get to him, maybe I could convince him to issue an order to disband the Guard, or at least put it under military authority. Getting rid of Mason would be a start.”

   Shaking her head, Richardson said, “You’re dreaming, Captain. He’s Mason’s puppet.”

   “Granted that you are right, that doesn’t mean that the situation can’t be turned to our advantage.” He looked around at the soldiers, and said, “That has to be better than the alternative.”

   “You’d be walking right back into enemy territory,” Caine said.

   Nodding, he replied, “And let’s take the worst-case scenario. I get shot, killed. Then you continue with the plan as outlined. Right now, I’m expendable.”

   “I can sneak you into town,” Daniels said. “That part shouldn’t be difficult, but it’s a small community, Captain, and everyone knows everyone else. You won’t find it easy to move around.”

   With a smile, Richardson said, “I know a couple of safe houses. At least they’ll give you somewhere to hide. Though finding the Governor will probably be the easy part. I know where he is.”

   “The Museum of Earth.”

   “Where else?” the rebel leader asked. “Captain, if you are going to do this, you can’t do it now. Wait until dark, and we’ll sneak you in under cover of darkness. Today won’t be wasted.” She smiled, then said, “The four of us need to work out what the hell happens if we succeed. We’ve got a long afternoon to work out a Constitution for Utopia. I’d say we’ve got our work cut out for us.”

  Chapter 15

   Salazar struggled to hold onto the reins of his horse, almost bouncing clear of the saddle as they rode along an old dirt trail, New Jamestown still a few miles away, the tops of the buildings coming into view. Foster was handling hers with enviable skill, and Astris looked as though he had been born on horseback. Harper, he noted with a little relief, was struggling just as much as he was, with the air of one who was looking for the manual override.

   “Can’t we walk?” he asked.

   “What’s the problem, Sub-Lieutenant, can’t you handle it?” Foster said. “This is great! I might move here!”

   “I’m with Pavel,” Harper said. “How do you control this beast?”

   Craning his neck to look back at them, Astris said, “We’ve got to blend in with everyone else. Horses are the way everyone travels out on the farms. Besides, I picked you the gentlest mounts I could find.”

   “How are you doing this?” Harper asked Foster. “You can’t have ever ridden before.”

   “Lots of historical VR sims when I was a kid,” she replied. “I guess they were as accurate as the designers claimed.”

   “Remind me to recommend horsemanship to the Academy when I get back,” Salazar said, panting for breath. “How long?”

   “Not much further,” Astris replied. “Maybe thirty minutes.”

   “Thirty minutes?” Harper said. “I might not last thirty seconds!”

   The group continued to ride across the land, Astris demonstrating the control and skill that the others, even Foster with her exuberance, lacked. Over time, Salazar began to get the rhythm of the ride, but muscles he didn’t even know he had were beginning to ache. Glancing ahead, he saw a group of jeeps riding past, bouncing over the dunes, a mix of soldiers and guardsmen heading off into the desert.

   “Where are they going?”

   “Patton Outpost, I think,” Astris said. “Your friend is getti
ng quite an army gathered there. Once I drop you off, I’m going out there to take a look at the fun.”

   “You aren’t staying with us?” Foster asked.

   Shaking his head, he replied, “Too many people are too interested in talking to me, and I need to keep a low profile. At least until all of this is over.” He glanced to the side, at the jeeps, and added, “Show a little interest, but not too much. They look too busy to care about a few horsemen riding into town, but if you act suspicious, they might come looking.”

   They rode past the convoy, Astris even waving cheerfully at one of the drivers, who returned the gesture with a smile. The trail began to firm up as they raced past a farm, a patch of green struggling to rise from the palette of browns that made up the landscape. The flat, smooth trail became a rutted track as they progressed, the horses seeming to know where to put their feet far better than their hapless riders.

   Passing a pair of low, prefab buildings, identical aside from the varying levels of decay and the cracks in their walls, they sped into the outskirts of town, racing through an abandoned checkpoint to head down the main street. It was busy, lines of people outside the shops, mothers keeping their children close at hand as they went about their daily lives, eyes looking around as though trying to spot the bogeyman before he could leap out of the shadows. There was an air that something was about the happen, and everyone was preparing for the worst.

   A rhythmic thumping drew Salazar’s attention, and he turned to see a pair of men boarding up the windows of their house, thin strips of plastiboard being slammed into position with rough-hewn iron nails. He glanced at Astris, who guided his horse down a side alley, bringing it to a slow canter and motioning for the others to do the same.

   This time they did attract some attention, he was almost certain of that. A figure peering from behind a curtain, tugging it back into position when it saw that he had noticed her. If it had been someone from the government, likely they would already have been captured.

   “We’re here,” said Astris, and he dismounted, throwing the reins of his horse over a wooden post and tying it with a loose, easy knot. With difficulty, Salazar slid over and dropped down after him, grimacing in pain as his boots splashed in the mud. Harper almost toppled over, and he braced her with his arm just in time.