by TS Hottle
She did not want to add his to Akrad's and Priya's.
"Commander?"
Suicide did not hear the door open behind her. Turning, she saw Persephone standing inside, the door to the room closed. "Yes?"
"John Farno would like you to come to the Administrative Suite," she said.
Suicide realized tears had been streaming down her cheek. She wiped them away without explanation. "The Gelt?"
"An Admiral Shorees has come down from the ship," she said. "She says she has information pertaining to Jez Salamacis that you might interest you."
Suicide nodded and let go of JT's hand. By the time she stood, her mask of stoicism had slid back into place, and her posture had straightened. "Let's go."
They made their way down the corridor and out into the street. Overhead, through the transparent dome, dust swirled on a wind that had kicked up outside. It obscured the red sky and turned Farigha's red dwarf sun into a white disc in the haze. Suicide had never been to Mars, but she imagined it had been like this when it had a dryer climate.
Solaris itself bustled, people moving to and fro in the streets. Most of them wore engineer's coveralls. It made sense. Farigha's primary industry—actually, its only one – was terraforming.
"Is that man your son?" asked Persephone.
Suicide had to refocus for a moment. The novelty of walking outside within a domed city had swallowed her attention. "No. Just a protégé. I've looked after him since the Gelt invaded our homeworld."
"You looked at him like a worried mother."
What could she say to that? She knew this Persephone had every scrap of information available on her, JT, and everyone aboard the Goldeneye, even Boolay. But did she know everything? "I never had a child of my own. My husband died in the Polygamy Wars, and the woman I married after I left the service also died before we could arrange for a child. JT was just a boy when he came to Amargosa. We sort of adopted each other."
Persephone gave a faint smile. "It's good to find someone you can count on."
The hologram on the conference room table showed Jez Salamacis approaching the Sovereign, the previous one, on the day of Her Accession. The tentacled crown the Sovereign of the Realm wore unsettled Suicide. It made the woman, especially with her gray skin and yellow eyes, look like Medusa.
Salamacis stood in a receiving line, the first alien behind a long line of Gelt notables. Behind her stood several other species, some of whom Suicide did not recognize. Salamacis held an ornate box in her hands. "I offer you this. It is said that inside lies the heart of the last Sovereign to keep His name, Devold. Somehow, it came into our possession. On behalf of the Security Council of the Compact, I return it to you in hopes our two nations will soon be at peace."
The Sovereign gave a sideways glance to her guards before accepting the box. With a Gelt heart inside, it would be unlikely she would open it at such a ceremony. "We appreciate the gesture. We shall examine it later." The dig at Salamacis's probable ignorance amused Suicide.
"Be assured," She continued, "we are already predisposed to peace as our war is really a crisis of the Laral family's making. This gesture assures me that Secretary-General ibn-Aziz feels as we do. If it is genuine, as we hope, peace will be inevitable as this would prove to us your honor."
"Thank you, Your Supremacy." She curtsied.
Who curtsies anymore? thought Suicide. The one time she had met Mitsuko's great-uncle, as King Yanuhito, not Uncle Yoshi, she had been instructed to bow. And most royals she had met elsewhere simply flashed a business card on their palms, which listed marketing of their various homelands on Earth or elsewhere as their occupation. Anyway, would the Gelt understand the gesture?
The hologram faded. Suicide sat between Farno and Persephone, while across the table sat a Gelt woman with a shaven and tattooed scalp in black formal armor. Persephone had introduced her as Admiral Shorees. Her face twisted into an angry scowl, but she kept her tone even. "A month later, our Beloved Sovereign opened the box. It leaked out a biotoxin that, Commander Cui, I know you have seen in action. By dawn, the Sovereign's Residence had to be quarantined as everyone inside had been reduced to… I believe the Humanic word is 'goo.'"
"Is this why the war continues?" asked Suicide. "Because Lattus Tishla of Hanar assured us your Seat of Supremacy believed the war to be of the Laral family's making."
Shorees looked down at the table, then back up at Suicide. "Our current Sovereign is the son of the Sovereign killed on Amargosa."
Suicide found the Realm's practice of stripping the names of sitting Sovereigns painfully hard to follow.
"As a whole," Shorees continued, "we understand He was collateral damage in an assassination of Laral Umish. But the current Sovereign was still in minority at the time of His death. What you would call a regency is frowned upon among my people. So, a woman named Sansar Aryanna, who was like a second mother to His Supremacy, offered to surrender her name and assume the godhood. She even implied she would abdicate when our current Sovereign was ready."
"Was the heart genuine?" asked Persephone.
"It was. The heart of Devold, the last Sovereign to reign on our homeworld before its destruction, and the last one to keep His name upon Accession. The bio-toxin your Lucius Kray…"
"Not my Lucius Kray," snapped Suicide. "He was an enemy to human and Gelt alike on Amargosa."
"Nonetheless, he weaponized our suicide toxin against us, in violation of both our laws and the Compact's, a toxin that was partially responsible for the destruction of our homeworld. Until that president of yours acknowledges it, the Sovereign will not come to the peace table."
Farno cleared his throat. "Well, technically speaking, Farigha and Amargosa are not Compact, not until Metis decides its future. And ours."
Annoyance flashed in Shorees's eyes, but the rest of her face remained stony. "If a head of state for the Compact acknowledges the murder of the most recent Sovereign, His Supremacy Himself will meet with that president."
"So, what's this have to do with Jez Salamacis?" asked Persephone.
Shorees looked over at Persephone. "You're actually a holographic interface for an AI entity, aren't you?"
Panic froze Persephone for a moment, mirroring Suicide's shock. "I am the AI John Farno mentions in his logs." To Suicide, she added, "And I am his wife. I'm just as human as you are. I just came into being without a womb or a test tube or even a body."
"Jez is probably an AI entity," said the Admiral. "But she's not a hologram. We've seen…" "
"A clone?" asked Suicide.
"Are you willing to stake the existence of both our species on the word of a duplicitous clone? I don't know if the Jez who killed our Sovereign is the original, but that iteration of her self-destructed completely. Even her clothes disintegrated. We barely found evidence she even existed and what she did to escape." Her lips pressed thin. "That first president, ibn-Aziz."
"He's stepped aside due to illness."
Something subtle changed in Shorees's features, like she heard something incredibly absurd and did not want to let on. "Curious. So, Marcus Leitman…"
"Is the Acting President of the Compact," said Farno.
"Which we are likely no longer a part of," Persephone added.
"What do you need from us?" asked Suicide.
"I need you to make it clear that Jez Salamacis is the first obstacle to peace."
Retroact: 419 IE
Utah City, Goshen Protectorate
The skies over Utah City swarmed with Border Guard aircraft flying in formation. Any civilian or rebel craft attempting to penetrate the no-fly zone would find itself shot down. In fact, nothing could take off from or land in the city.
Suicide flew into the no-fly zone with little more than a flash of Border Guard running lights acknowledging her transponder code. The last voice message she heard came from Austin up on the Hancock.
"Acknowledge end of LOS," he said as all the Falcons departed the carrier, "with a transponder flash, then maintain com
m silence. You're on your own until you reach the suburbs."
Beside her, Second Lieutenant Kray stared ahead, his face inscrutable. Something had happened to that boy during the New Kirtland mission. He'd found himself a wife among the rescued "sister wives," and away from base, seemed happier for it. On duty, he had become silent, almost sullen.
"You ready for this, kid?" she asked as they passed the western edge of the no-fly zone. Ahead, the suburb of Etfield Village lay out before them, Marine tanks already rolling through the streets.
"Been ready since basic." His Arean accent seemed flatter now, less clipped. "Why?"
"We pull this off, the war's over."
With that, something seemed to deflate in Kray. For someone traumatized by a rebel barrage only a few months before, he acted like the end of the war meant the end of an era, like graduating college or getting a divorce.
Suicide turned briefly to look back at the enlisted Marines. "All buttoned up, Mr. Parker?"
Staff Sergeant John Parker gave her a thumbs up, grinning from ear to ear. "Locked, loaded, and adrenalized, Loot."
Kray bristled when Parker called her Loot.
"Two minutes to landing," she said.
"Lieutenant," said Kray, "do you have your sidearm with you?"
It took everything she had not to snort. "What pilot in their right mind flies without it?" Never mind that, as a civilian, she shot a pirate through her forward window with a surplus KR-27. She pulled the KR-7 pistol from the cubby under her console and holstered it, all while keeping her eyes on her flight path. "One in the chamber and fast safety on."
Kray stared at her holster like he'd never seen someone arm themselves without looking. "Stay aft with me, Lieutenant. I'd like an extra shooter, even if it's only a handgun."
"'To the rear,' Mr. Kray."
"I beg your pardon?"
"'Aft' refers to a ship, whether it's in space, the air, or on the sea. The correct term is 'to the rear.'"
"But you're Navy, Lieutenant. I thought the terminology for your service differed from the Corps or the Border Guard."
She leveled a hard stare at Kray. "Lieutenant, stick with the official lingo. I've been a pilot longer than you've been commissioned." Ahead, she spotted the LZ, a cul-de-sac where Marines and Deseret Planetary Guard had blocked off entry to the street. "Stand by, troops. It's about to get hot."
She brought the Falcon into a hover over the cul-de-sac. Stray rounds hit the ship soundlessly, though they had to be making a racket of clangs and cracks outside. Suicide rotated the ship's aft toward the house at the back of the cul-de-sac before settling the ship onto the pavement. Aft visual showed the main thrusters reducing a civilian runabout to slag and blowing two flitters on their sides.
"Helmets on," said Kray, who then donned his own. With a tinny voice from his helmet speakers, he added, "I'd harden my nano-fabric if I were you, Lieutenant."
Suicide tried not to roll her eyes. He's a NUB, she reminded herself. He'd be a grunt if someone high up hadn't taken a shine to him. Although, she mused, Kray handled himself better than most officer appointees. Then again, Ares was not exactly a world of elites and overprivileged hacks.
She reached up and triggered the aft ramp.
"Let's move," Sgt. Parker shouted through his helmet speaker. "Go, go, go, go, go!"
Almost in unison, the Marines rose and charged down the ramps, seemingly oblivious to the gunfire pouring into the passenger compartment. Kray rose and followed them.
"Lock controls with command override," she said to her console. "Include Lieutenant Kray and Staff Sergeant Parker on the override."
"Acknowledged," the computer said with a happy little chirp. Her holographic control set vanished. Only she could bring it back. If something happened to her, Kray or Parker could bring the console back to life and assign a pilot. Failing that, the ship would basically be immobile until someone from the Hancock came down to retrieve it.
The rebels hid behind overturned sofas, which showed how desperate they had become. Even the most inexperienced bush fighter knew that KR-27 rounds would slice through furniture like air.
"Give it up," Parker shouted, his speakers turned way up for effect. "The street is blocked off, we're armored, and Border Guard tanks are rolling into the neighborhood. It's over."
"Infidels!" A scruffy-looking rebel man charged out from behind the makeshift barricade, only to fall from a single rifle shot.
"Target neutralized," said Izad, a reticent woman from The Caliphate's Persian province.
"Anyone else feeling brave today?" said Parker.
The rest of the rebels stood with their hands up.
"That's good," said Parker. "Step around the sofas, get on your knees, and put your hands on your heads." He turned back to Kray and Suicide, standing in the rear. "We're ready, sir."
Suicide had her pistol out, down at her side, finger outside the trigger guard. They might have surrendered, but someone inside might still feel brave. She didn't trust the hardened nano-fabric to stop a bullet.
Kray made his way to the line and stepped in front. "Who is the leader here? Who oversees the work?" His voice sounded deeper, more modulated through the helmet speakers. Suicide tried very hard not to roll her eyes.
An unrejuved man in what appeared to be his sixties got to his feet. "I do."
"What is your name, sir?"
"Ayres. Barvak Ayres."
Kray gestured for toward the house. "Barvak Ayres, you will lead us in the house."
Ayres's eyes widened. He shook his head slightly.
"Ayres," said Kray with a tone of warning in his voice, "what is it you're hiding?"
Ayres trembled. To either side, Marines bound the other men with fiber ties behind their backs.
"Oh, Barvak, ye feckin idjit." Another man with a pointed beard put his hand up as a corporal moved to restrain him. He got to his feet. "I'll take ye inside. Yer gonna see what he's hiding, anyway."
"Your name, soldier," Kray barked.
"Wat, Lieutenant. Tyler Wat." He grinned. "If you check your most wanted list, I'm probably at the top of it." His eyes flicked sideways toward Barvak. "He's the so-called spiritual leader here. I do all the fighting." He returned his gaze to Kray. "Hell, let me do this." He spun on his heel and whistled loudly. "Ladies, looks like the Compact's granting ye all that divorce ye want!"
The troops still on the line all tensed up as the front door of the house opened. A woman stepped out tentatively, dressed in a plain, homespun dress. Three more women followed her out, then a girl who could not be more than twelve.
Kray took off his helmet and walked up to the girl. "Hello, my name is Lucius. I'm here to protect you. Are you Mr. Ayres's daughter?"
The girl shook as she looked over at Ayres.
"That's his wife," said Wat. "And she's only ten."
Suicide's finger went inside the trigger guard. Her pistol came up the waist height.
"Wat, shut up," said one of the men on his knees.
Wat turned on him, causing the Marines to tense up and point their rifles at him. "Riley, be quiet. It's over. And this fooker's still buying into all this bullshit."
"Did you have a say in marrying this man, little girl?"
The girl still shivered and shook her head. "I want to go home." Her accent sounded flat, like one of the Slavic or American regions on Bromdar.
Kray turned with his sidearm out and marched over to Ayres. "Are you militia, Mr. Ayres?"
"Proudly," said Ayres, suddenly defiant. "I demand all the rights and privileges due a Colonial Guard."
Kray laughed. "I am so pleased to hear you say that. Are you familiar with Article II, Section 11 of the Compact, Mr. Ayres?"
"I don't recog—"
Kray held up a finger and clucked at him. "Oh, no, Mr. Ayres. You have already claimed the rights due a serving soldier in Goshen's Colonial Guard." He dropped his helmet. "Did everyone hear that? Lieutenant Cui?"
"I heard," said Suicide.
"Under Section 11," Kray continued, "the death penalty is banned in all but two cases. Treason and military abuse." He turned to the girl again. "Where are you from, dear?"
Somehow, the girl squeaked out "Jefivah," which surprised Suicide. The accent sounded wrong.
"Jefivah. Were you on Jefivah when Mr. Ayres made you his charming companion?"
"No." She cried.
"The two exceptions," Kray continued, turning back to Ayres, "are military abuse and treason. Now, we can't shoot the entire Goshen Insurgency for treason. That would border on genocide."
Ayres relaxed a bit. "Thank you, Lieutenant."
Kray held up his finger in Ayres's face. "Ah, but you just said you are a member of Goshen's Colonial Guard. Goshen is a colony… Well, it's been a protectorate since your little cult started spreading the gospel of forced polygamy. Anyway, this is a protectorate of Deseret, which is a core world of the Compact. As such, you are subject to the same rules as the charters of all four Compact military services, of which I am an officer."
Suicide, as much as she wanted to shoot the man, did not like where Kray was going. She could see his eyes sparkle as he built up to what he wanted to do. "Lieutenant, let's turn him over to Deseret Justice. Let them deal with him."
Kray made no sign he had even heard her. "And under the charters of all four services…"
"Kray," said Suicide. Yet legally, she could make no move.
"… of which you confess to be a member in front of all these witnesses, including your own men…"
"Lieutenant," said Parker, "I strongly advise against this course of action."
Kray's cheeks became flush, and his breathing quickened. He looked almost orgasmic.
"… I find you guilty of military abuse against these three women and this child. The sentence is death, without appeal, to be carried out immediately."